ELIJAH

	The battlefield just west of New Vaelyn was in complete disarray. I stood on the bridge of the Usurper beside Captain Bennett, awaiting his command. Behind me was my platoon, all of them standing by with an intensity in their eyes as we all watched the battle unfold. By some miracle I had rallied them and they, like me, were more than ready to get stuck in and give it to the mercenaries, but Captain Bennett had other plans. 
	The Federal forces regulars were being reinforced by another three companies sent by Panthera and they were already giving those invaders hell, but they were receiving it right back. Somehow they had reached a stalemate, and Bennett seemed to be looking for a chance to strike. The airships on either side were keeping their distance now that the MUTT battles were in full swing. The Captain cupped a hand around his mouth as he stared at them for a time, flashes of spitfire and aether in the distance casting shadows across his face.
	“Lieutenant,” Bennett began, his forefinger tabbing gently over his upper lip, “Do you recognize that ship?”
	I looked at the one he gestured to that was listing back and forth behind enemy lines. It was a long airship with one great envelope that had a built-in steel bridge and bow at the top of the main balloon. It had several spitfire cannons mounted on struts on either side of it and several gondolas underneath that could have carried at least a dozen or more WarMUTTs. Apart from Thaddeus Crone's personal airship Cerberus (which no doubt doubled or possibly tripled this one in size alone), this was the biggest airship I had seen in some time.
	“No, Captain. I can't say that I have,” I admitted, “Must be important, though. Look how all the other ships are crowding it like a screen.”
	“Yes, I noticed that as well,” he said, still focusing on it. “I'm thinking we have our target.”
	“Shall we get suited up, then? We can circle around and hit it from the side,” I suggested.
	Bennett shook his head doubtfully, “Suicide. Too many MUTTs to get through and the ships themselves would see you coming.”
	I looked to our south and saw the jungle and the gears in my head began to turn, “The fighting is happening out there, but what if we came at them from the Oasis?” I suggested.
	“They'll spot you before you even leave the treeline.”
	“I disagree. Just send first platoon. We would be small and fast enough to get in and out in minutes. Look at the aether coming out from the Oasis. What's a few more MUTTs in all of that?”
	He considered it for a time, then turned to me, “You're down three men, Lieutenant.”
	“We'll manage,” I answered with conviction.
	“You might get stranded out there, cut off from the rest of us and killed.”
	“That happened to us when we were still Evokers. We always came out on top,” I pointed out.
	“True,” he conceded, “Very well. Get ready to launch, your target is that flying behemoth. I will have second and third platoon back you up if things get too hot. Whoever is inside that airship may be the ones coordinating their defense. If you're successful, we will cut the head off this snake.”

	My men and I made it to our WarMUTTs in moments, each of us ready to drop when the order was given. There were looks of determination on all of their faces, particularly Dylan's when he glanced at the vacant tethers where our lost soldiers would have been. He looked ready to take them all on, or die trying. Lucas on the other hand stared blankly at something I couldn't see, not a quip or comment. I gave him a pat on the shoulder and he seemed to acknowledge it but only for a brief moment. There was something on his mind, but it wasn't in my nature to pry. As long as he did his job everything would turn out alright.
	 I had watched every one of my soldiers climb into theirs first, all but Lucas, who turned to me.
	“Lieutenant, I have a bad feeling about this mission,” he said in a low voice so only I could hear him.
	I shook my head, “I have a bad feeling before every mission, what's your point?”
	“I'm telling you, something bad is coming. I don't know what, but we're gonna find out real quick out there.” The look on his face told me he was deathly serious, which gave me pause. I had known Lucas for months by now and he never struck me as the type to take anything seriously, even the few battles we had been in were nothing more than a joke to him. That was more than enough to have some worry creeping up my back.
	“Just get to your MUTT and keep your eyes peeled,” I said, feeling the hairs on my neck stand up. Whatever had him spooked, I couldn't let him or anyone else see that it was starting to spook me as well.
	“Just keep Dylan close,” was all he said before he turned and got into his Harrier. I shook my head and climbed into mine. It wasn't like I could call this off, even if I wanted to. Still, his words stuck in my head, ‘keep Dylan close.’ Why would he say that? Was his bad feeling about Dylan? When I had strapped in and gotten my manascope on, the Captain's voice came through our radios.
	“We're touching down in five,” He said, continuing to count down, “Good luck, Aries.”
	 I took a deep breath and felt my Harrier release from its tether, falling hard and fast. Each of us landed behind the Oasis facing west and I started moving immediately, everyone in first platoon following me.

	The jungle itself was the usual mess of overgrown trees, vines and other foliage, the animals either hiding or driven off by the mining operation or the ensuing battles taking place nearby. It did well enough to conceal our movement but it also made it more difficult for us to gauge our distance from the target and the terrain was a lot rougher. I silently wished we had some dingos right about now so we could cross the distance on faster legs.
	“We're getting close,” Lucas informed me.
	I did my best to look through the trees myself and couldn't make heads or tails of the battlefield. “How can you tell?”
	“Just a gut feeling,” He answered. I had my usual doubts, but then again this wasn't the first time he had done something like this.
	“I can scout ahead, Loo,” Dylan offered.
	“No, we can't risk being spotted too soon, or we'll never pull this off,” I replied, not willing to even humor the thought. I supposed I would have to rely on Lucas’ gut instinct, for what it was worth. We went about half a kilometer more before Lucas piped up again.
	“This is it, we can cross the battlefield from here and take out that ship before they even notice us,” He said. I weighed my options before I opened my hatch and grabbed my binoculars.
	“I'll look ahead, just to be sure.”
	“Be quick, Lieutenant, we might miss our window.”
	He was right. I hurried as quickly as I could, taking the tow lift down from my hatch and hitting the ground running until I reached the treeline. I didn't even need my binoculars, we were in the perfect spot behind the enemy line. Sure, there were trenches and infantry from here to there about three kilometers long, but there were only a few MUTTs between us and that airship, and they were too preoccupied watching the western side of the battle, ready to act if the fighting turned their way. The battle was coming their way alright, just from another direction. That would cost them, I thought.
	I hurried back to my Harrier as fast as my legs could take me, grabbing hold of the tow lift and letting it hoist me up to my hatch where I hopped into the cockpit.
	“Only a handful of MUTTs between us and the target, move out, hit them hard and fast. Once we're in range of the airship, hit it with everything you got!”

	We broke through the trees in a rush of metal and aether fire, downing two enemy WarMUTTs as soon as we came out of the jungle.
	“Good shot, Louis,” I heard Dylan say as he slugged a Dingo's cockpit open with his offhand, the cockpit caving in on itself. It fell to the ground hard, its pilot likely mush, I thought. I fired off two shots from my aether rifle and clipped one and destroyed another behind him, only for Lucas to finish him off and cripple several others with a flurry of beamfire. The infantry in the trenches didn't stand a chance at slowing us down. We were in the clear. As one unit, we raced across the battlefield, heading straight for the cluster of airships before us. I could already see the perfect vantage point where we could get a shot from a small ridge. The airships were already beginning to notice us, but they were reacting too slowly, there was nothing they could do to stop us from tearing them down out of the sky!
	“LIEUTENANT, STOP!” Lucas shouted, and I pulled back, a beam of aether flashing across my eyes on the manascope. A moment later and I would have been slag.
	I turned to look for the source of the attack and found six WarMUTTs heading right for us. They were using the trenches and rocks as cover, but I could see them clear enough. Three were Dingos, they looked like mark-twos and the others were Harrier Ds painted fire red.
	“Take cover in the trenches!” I ordered at once, “Use them for cover and keep moving! We have to bring down that airship!”
	My men did as ordered, each of them hopping down into the trenches and hurrying through them as quickly as they could. The trenches were only wide enough for one, maybe two Harriers at a time, so they traveled single file. I was right behind them, with Dylan and Lucas at my back.
	I looked back at the oncoming enemy. At first I didn't know what to think, just a couple extra mercenaries bringing up the rear, but then I saw the markings on the frontman's Harrier.
	A five-pointed star with a name written in a harsh white. My heart dropped.
	It was Crimson Kilroy. There was no way she was still alive, but then there she was.
	“Enemy west!” I shouted, panic in my voice, “Keep heading for the target! Don't engage directly! Don't let them close the distance!”
	“It's just six MUTTs, Lieutenant!” Louis shouted back, stopping in front of me to look over the trench, “We can take them!”
	“I gave you an order-!”
	Before I could even finish berating my subordinate a flash from a spitfire round blew right through the top of his MUTT, blowing the man out the backside of his Harrier, a smoldering cadaver among the melted steel slag against the edge of the trench. All eyes were on him for what felt like an eternity before I heard Dylan screaming on the radio.
	“LOUIS!” He cried out, firing his own aether at the enemy, attempting to climb up and out of the trench to close the distance. I jumped back to him and grabbed his Harrier, pulling him down with me.
	“Get it together! Everyone!” I screamed over the radio. “Unless you want to wind up dead like Louis, I suggest you all move it to that ridge! Double time! Move it! Dylan. Lucas, we're taking up the rear! Make sure they make it to the target! Keep your damned heads down and watch for those escort airships!”
	They hesitated for a moment, but did as ordered, each of them running to head for the target. I spun over the top of the trench and took aim for a brief moment before returning fire. That had caused them to take cover, their dingos firing as they fell back to the trenches. One of the Harriers wielding an aether rifle was taking aim at my subordinates.
	“Get some suppressive fire on them! All we need to do is keep their heads down!” I hollered between shots. Lucas ducked down beneath the enemy's aether beams, a dozen shots piercing through the ground behind us.
	“I'll kill ‘em!” Dylan snarled, about to leap back over the trench again. I grabbed his MUTT and shook it, “GET IT TOGETHER!” I roared, “If you stick your head out there, you're dead!”
	“But Louis-”
	I gave him another shake, “Louis is dead, and you'll end up just like him if you don't start using your head!”
	“Listen to him, Dylan,” Lucas added, “If you go out there alone you're dead!”
	I watched as our sections moved in and made it closer to the ridge. The spitfire from the enemy was keeping them down, and they couldn't find an opening to fire on the main enemy airship. They exchanged fire for a time, downing several of the screening airships. I ran towards them, pulling Dylan with me while Lucas brought up the rear, each of us stopping every now and then to fire at the enemy MUTTs to our west. We were so close!
	“Come on!” I shouted, hoping for a miracle.
	But it never came.
	One after one I saw my men get picked off from the enemy airships and the six MUTTs despite our covering fire. The six were just too good, too accurate. I got a grazing shot on one of them but they returned fire and blew off my left shoulder, putting that arm out of commission. Quickly ducking back down into the trench, I moved positions. I slammed a fist on the console, grinding my teeth. It was just my luck that Crimson Kilroy would be on the battlefield against us. I never thought she and her crew were this good. I had to think of something. Anything, or we were going to end up dead!
	“Send up a flare!” I ordered, looking to Lucas and Dylan.
	They both hesitated, “But-”
	“Just do it! Get second and third platoon here as soon as possible. The three of us need to move up and get that airship ourselves!”
	With any luck we might survive this. I began weaving my way through the winding trenches, heading for the ridge where my men were pinned down.
	Every now and then Dylan, Lucas and I would fire back and they would duck down for a brief time before we started all over again. We were taking too long. My MUTT's disabled arm wasn't helping things.
	“Lucas, move ahead and get the shot off, bring that thing down!” I ordered, “Dylan and I will stay here and draw fire.”
	His MUTT's eye focused on me for a moment before he moved on.
	“Got it.”
	I looked at my rifle, its barrel already starting to glow red-hot from the constant firing. This had to work or it would be all over.
	The flare went up and I pulled off the arm practically hanging from my Harrier's shoulder. Maybe I could hold it up as a fake target, I considered for a moment. It wasn't like I was going to get any more use out of it.
	I glanced over the trench as best as I could, using the extra arm as a decoy. A beam flew right through its palm. Whoever that was, he was a crack shot.
	They were also getting closer.
	Dylan and I took aim and fired at the first thing that poked their heads up. Both of us together managed to blow the arm off one of the dingos, disabling it, while also catching one of the Harriers in the leg as he peaked out of cover. Thankfully it was the one carrying the spitfire, so that was one less threat to worry about for now. But where was Kilroy? A split second count I only saw five of the six. Last I saw she was wielding a torch, so she would be closing the distance as best as she could. Had she been in cover all this time? No… back in Mexico she would move cover to cover while we suppressed the government loyalists. Then it hit me. Shit!
	I turned just in time to see her coming around the trench. I lunged at her and knocked the torch away with the barrel of my rifle, the flames glassing the dirt and burning the wood of the trench wall. I took aim and fired, but her off-hand batted my rifle up and away before she closed for a follow-up punch. I dodged aside, wary of her bayonet that flashed out from her wrist. It scraped a hideous screech across my chassis, sparks flying in my vision as I narrowly avoided death.
	I lunged forward, using my Harrier's heavier body to push her back, but she grabbed my rifle again with her left hand and dragged me with her, dropping her torch so she could punch me with her right arm. I was throttled, my whole cockpit shaking violently. My ears were assaulted by the loud crunching and screeching of metal on metal, and pain ran through my shoulders, neck and collarbones as my straps fought to keep me in place. I watched helplessly as my main camera was broken by her fist, my backups my only means of seeing now.
	“Dylan! Shoot her!” I roared, and dropped my rifle, grabbing her fist to stop her from striking me again, only for her to smash the butt of the rifle into my chassis, breaking it over my thick armored plates. I was doing everything I could with one arm to keep her from killing me.
	“If I shoot her that close you'll both be dead!” He cried out. 
	“If you don't then both you and I will be dead!” I tried to reason with him. I'd rather risk dying and taking her with me than for her to come out on top!
	I heard Dylan cry out in a rage and moments later I saw him leap at her from my left, his own bayonet going in for the kill. She caught his arm with her own, forcing it into the dirt behind her, while I pushed her back with everything I had left. She shoved Dylan away and slammed him into the trench wall with my momentum, then she grabbed for her torch on the ground in the same fluid motion.
	I couldn't believe my eyes, she had beaten us both by herself. Even if I still had my other arm I don't know if I could win. I was staring her down the trench, her torch aimed directly at me. Dylan pulled himself off the wall before he rushed the red Harrier and rammed into her. She turned and stabbed her bayonet into his leg, and he fell into her, bringing her down with him to the ground where they continued to beat each other’s MUTTs senseless. Dylan's strikes were wild and uncoordinated, battering her chassis with dents, while she aimed hers for the joints in his arms, and it wasn't long before she managed to catch his hammerfists in one hand and bayonet them at the servos, dismembering his Harrier.
	Her eye glared a bright red as it refocused on me. I felt my hands shaking, my heart was beating so hard in my chest it was like she was already beating me herself. That damned Crimson Kilroy! I looked for anything. My men, either dead or disabled, where was Lucas? Dylan's rifle! It was there, in the trench behind me! She slowly shoved Dylan's chassis away, her own MUTT heavily dented and beaten, but still coming. I couldn't help but admire the sturdiness of her Harrier D, somehow it had outperformed our supposedly superior Harrier Es. Or maybe she was just better. I would never make it to the rifle in time, she was already raising the torch on me. I would die like everyone else in this damned war, burning in agony for a fraction of a second, and then I'd be nothing.
	Suddenly and without warning, a hail of beams soared overhead. Crimson Kilroy seemed to notice them as well, and she turned her focus on the origin point. I did my best to look as well, while trying to keep her in my vision as best as I could with my backup cameras. It was second and third platoon. They were rushing over the battlefield from out of the treeline. They fired at Crimson Kilroy and her team in the distance, forcing them back. She took one cursory glance at me before she quickly retreated back through the trenches, smart enough to know that even these numbers were not in her favor.
	I let my breath go, feeling like I had been holding it for over an hour's time when she finally disappeared from my vision. I fell back into my seat, completely drained of adrenaline. I saw Dylan lying helplessly in the trench, his Harrier only afforded its one working leg.
	“Dylan, are you alive?” I dared to ask, hoping that by some miracle he was still conscious after the beatdown he had received
	“Yeah… but my MUTT's on its last leg.”
	“If that's a joke, it's in poor taste,” I couldn't help but chuckle under my breath.
	“Hey, Loo?”
	“Yeah?”
	“Did we get him?”
	I didn't know what to say. I had my doubts that second or third platoon got Crimson Kilroy, and first was in dire straits as it was, if any of them were even still alive.
	“Dylan, we just survived one of the toughest bitches I ever saw on the battlefield. I say that alone is a win.”
	“Let's not do that again,” He groaned, using his remaining leg to kick the chassis onto its back before opening his hatch.
	“I think something is broken…” He grunted as he tried to get out of his cockpit 
	“Don't move around so much, let the chirurgeons take care of it,” I said, doing my best to check myself for any wounds. I would definitely have a few bruises before the day was through, at worst a few broken bones.
	A flash of light broke our brief silence as I watched the great enemy airship go up in a blazing fire, several of its escorts burning up with it.
	Lucas must have pulled it off, I thought.
	“Lieutenant, we have to go, now! The enemy is sending more MUTTs!” Lucas said.
	“Is anyone left from first platoon?” I asked, moving to help Dylan get into my cockpit. There was a pause as I closed the hatch with my avalonian junior sitting behind me in a slump.
	“...No.” Lucas answered bitterly.
	“Damn it…” I swore under my breath, watching second and third platoon make their way to us. I hobbled my Harrier up out of the trench, making sure to grab Dylan's aether rifle on the way. I turned to spot Lucas scurrying as fast as his heavy MUTT would allow.
	There must have been hundreds of enemy MUTTs trying to cross back toward us in a futile attempt to save whoever was on that airship. Good, I thought, now they'll crumble.
	“Hurry and relink with us, it looks like we're leaving the way we came.”

	“What the hell happened out there?” Bennett demanded of me. I stood at attention as best as my battered body could, with both Dylan and Lucas on either side of me. Despite his own wounds, Dylan was a tough bastard and refused to accept medical aid until we finished our report. Behind the Captain was Gavin and Amelia, both of them holding back barely restrained rage. For me, for the enemy, for my men who had died, whatever their reasons, they looked like they wanted to kill me.
	“Your entire platoon, all of them, casualties, most of them dead! What were you thinking, sending them on their own?”
	“It's war, Captain, I saw an opportunity to achieve our goal and took it. They knew what the risks were.” I answered bluntly.
	“Permission to speak, Captain,” Lucas interjected.
	“Permission denied, you ought to count yourself lucky, Lieutenant Akkerman, for taking out the target. Six MUTTs, that's all it took to topple your platoon. Explain, now!”
	“First platoon gave their lives to defend the people,” I answered again.
	“Give me the less patriotic answer, MacGellar, or so help me God you'll hang-”
	“It was Crimson Kilroy,” I simply replied. Bennett went quiet. His expression went from livid, to stern, to a look of concern as he considered some things. Even Gavin and Amelia's expressions softened at the mention of her name. They must have been aware of who she was as well.
	“Are you sure?” He asked quietly.
	“Saw it written on her MUTT. Plain as day.”
	He shook his head, “It could have been someone else.”
	“Red MUTT, Star right next to the name. She fought like hell and killed all my men, who else could have done that?”
	That had given him something to consider, and the other two were convinced as well. After he pondered this for a moment he turned his attention back to me.
	“This changes nothing. You should not have separated from your men to play hero. You should have called us sooner. How you're still alive is… beyond me.”
	I had to agree, it was nothing short of a miracle. That and whatever gut feeling Lucas had prior to the mission that urged me to keep Dylan with me.
	“I have Lieutenant Bailey to thank for that,” I nodded toward the dog-man who, despite the serious look on his face and the pain he felt, still found it in himself to look proud.
	“Yes. He did very well for losing a new Harrier E,” Bennett's sarcasm went right over my junior's head, which irked the Captain to no end, I'm sure.
	“Not bad for a week's worth of training!” Dylan stupidly beamed. Bennett stared at him with dull eyes for a moment before nodding.
	“In light of your performance against such a daunting enemy… and for taking out the target, perhaps a change of pace would do you some good.“
	“What did you have in mind, Captain?” I dared to ask.
	“I think we need something a little more your speed. I hear Harrier Heavy Industries is making a new model of MUTT, something that's ‘never been done before,’ you know how they are. Their facility near Cairns was… commandeered by our government officials not too long ago. I will put in recommendations for the three of you to be the test riders effective immediately. When you are done, you will bring the new models to Aries and we will see about you making up for your mistake.”
	That would be his excuse to get us out of his hair for a time and make it look like a valiant effort from Aries to the rest of the Chimera higher-ups, no doubt. I saluted through the pain in my shoulders, prompting the other two to do the same.
	Bennett looked at us grimly, “Dismissed.”

	“How did you know?” I asked Lucas as we made our way to our quarters.
	“I don't know. It was just a gut feeling,” he answered, whether that was true or not I couldn't be sure.
	“What are you, some kind of esper?”
	He shook his head, “I doubt it. I never did well with divinity magicks.”
	“Well it was enough to save my life,” I retorted, “If I hadn't kept Dylan around I'd be dead. Kilroy would have gotten all of us.”
	“Who the hell is Crimson Kilroy, anyway?” Dylan asked, still seething over his loss. I opened the door to our quarters and we went in, each of us practically falling into our bunks. I hurt all over, but the chirurgeons said nothing was broken, another miracle for me, no doubt.
	“Someone I fought with back in Mexico,” I answered, my mood soured by the mere mention of it.
	“You fought in Mexico?” Dylan asked.
	“Yeah. I did. We called her Crimson Kilroy back then. The Romeristas called her Eterna. No matter what they threw her at, she and her crew always seemed to come back alive. They called themselves Star.”
	Dylan scoffed, “That doesn't sound too impressive, didn't we only lose two MUTTs in that war?”
	“What, did you read that in the government approved papers?” Lucas sneered at Dylan, sounding more like his old self again.
	“What other papers are there?” I shot back, silencing Lucas, “You shouldn't believe everything you hear, Dylan. Yes, the war only lasted a few months, but the government fought hard, and found ways to kill riders. Who do you think figured out gunpowder worked around aether? Now shut up and I'll explain.”
	Dylan took a moment to think about that, his world view changing ever so slightly. Lucas was listening as well, curious to know more about today's enemy.
	“One day she didn't come back. Her team said she was captured by the government. We all thought she would be tortured and killed… or worse. We knew what they did to the rebels… to their women and children. The Romeristas were no angels by any means, but the government… they were monsters. Star fought hard to find her. They must have killed hundreds of soldiers and ran hundreds of missions, and we all wondered if she was even still alive.
	So when the government collapsed and we freed the few living prisoners, she was released back to us. She was missing an arm, but despite that she looked no worse than the day she had been captured. Why would they feed her? Maybe she didn't need to eat? She didn't look like the other women… she didn't seem traumatized by…” I trailed off, not wanting to think about someone forcing themselves upon her. I shook my head and continued, “That's when they named her Eterna. She wouldn't die.”
	“What the hell is she?” Lucas asked with his mouth slightly agape as he took the story in.
	“I don't know. She's no race of man, but I've never seen her kind before. She's no avalonian, no orc or goblin. I thought maybe she was somehow one of the tamer beastmen, but I had never seen one like her.”
	“Maybe she's a vampire, or some kind of demon?” Dylan suggested, not sounding too sure himself.
	“She couldn't be out during the day if she was a vampire, you dimwit,” Lucas groaned.
	“Why not? Those MUTTs might as well be big walking coffins!” Dylan argued. I had to give him credit there, they were certainly starting to feel more and more like coffins day by day. Especially after today.
	“She could be some kind of elemental,” Lucas suggested instead, “They're rare, but they exist. The fact that she has a tangible body suggests to me that she is an earth elemental.”
	“What about her missing arm?” Dylan pointed out, “Even I know if she was an elemental she'd just make a new one.”
	That seemed to have Lucas stumped, and his face turned red at the thought of being outplayed by the avalonian.
	“Then maybe she's a golem!”
	“What the hell is a golem?” The dog-man shot back.
	I tuned out their arguing, thinking on it myself. A demon? She couldn't be. Those things were a calamity wherever they went. Still… what else would I call what happened today? It was a calamity for first platoon.  The Crimson Demon, another name she could add to her list, I thought. Bennett made it sound like some of first platoon survived, but how likely was that? Would any of them survive recovery? Aether burns were not something you would want to live through. They continued to burn even days and weeks later. I knew plenty of men who took their own lives because they couldn't stand the searing pain. I didn't want to think about it anymore. I looked out of the porthole window and watched as the ship turned and we headed northeast to this Harrier facility. Whatever those eggheads at HHI were cooking up, maybe it would help turn the tides of this war.

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