[Unmaking] The Siege of Markov

[Ohm Zui]

It took Lee and her gang several moments to recover from the sight of a robot (it has to be a mech suit I swear Bee if you even think about trying to hack it I will kill you myself before it slaughters us all) tossing an elephantine zoid above the skyline, but once they had, Lee put her foot down and the van sped even closer. Already they had begun to pick off the occasional void zombie that lurched into view: the path the CBA had designated was generously sized, and earning enough for a magazine with every bullet just made sense.

They turned the corner onto a larger road, one on which they could see the large hulking form of the amazonian robot that stood there, clearly recovering after their impressive feat. Other guild teams that had decided to participate in gathering extra cash through this deal were arriving piecemeal, but already arcane explosives and spell snipers were cutting down akata that were lurking in the side streets, picking them off before they could get the drop on the fighters that had begun to team up against the remains of the zoid elephant’s charge. Lee spotted a familiar blade of eldritch light in the hands of a figure jumping from the roof of a nearby building and smiled.

“Looks like Zeph’s pack are here already,” she called over her shoulder, eyes locked on the road as she sped down the street. “Let’s give a good showing!”

Simone’s drones zipped through the air, fanning out behind the van to mop up the zombies the others missed as Filigree and Giorno opened fire. They swept down the road, picking off the early arrivals, and charged into the fray. Beezlebub’s eyes glowed for a second, and he gestured right in time for Lee to spin the wheel. The van curved round, allowing Giorno and Filigree to launch a salvo at the flank of an elephant zoid who’s leg had been crushed by the robot’s unwilling improvised projectile.

Lee sped them through a side street, magic missile launcher clearing the way of a limping akata, and turned to bring them back towards the main road. As she did, they rounded the corner to see a veritable horde of zombies accompanying four akata as they stalked towards a club-wielding man and an enormous battle boar that accompanied him.

“Brace!” she called, and span the wheel.

With a skid, the hovervan slid sideways through the crowd of void zombies. Blood and blue goo went flying as Lee guided the armoured vehicle in a controlled drift, coming to a halt besides the fighter.

The gang opened fire, bullets and acid flying, The akata, taken by surprised, were forced to step back or risk being cut to ribbons, and as they did the war boar and the man gave a war cry and returned to the fray, cutting down the zombies in a swathe of violence.

Giorno and Filigree focused fire on the slowest akata, staggering it with thorn bullets and a well placed acid bomb before Simone’s drones swooped in for the finishing blow. Beezlebub’s eyes glowed, and he projected an illusion as a distraction in time for Lee’s magic missile launcher to blow a hole in the second akata. The club wielding man pulled himself up onto the boar to then launch himself into the air, the duo clearly enjoying the fight as they teamed up on the third akata.

The fourth akata, prowled, looking for an opening. It leapt at the fighters on top of the van, Giorno turning with his sword too slowly. The akata crashed into Filigree’s environment suit, tearing her magnetic boots from the hovervan and sending her crashing to the street.

“Fil!”

The runners opened fire, trying to avoid hitting their andromedan companion. The akata’s claws scrabbled and scratched at the mechanical suit, scoring gashes that bled acid and motor fluid in hissing green. The beast leaned down, roaring as it opened its maw to bite into the large glass covering over Filigree’s torso.

“Hah!”

The fighter took the opportunity to slide into its blind spot and crack it in the neck with its club, sending it staggering backwards. The war boar followed up with an almighty stomp of its hooves, pounding the akata’s body into the street and trampling it to death.

Filigree, staggered upright, servos whining as the suit slowly repaired itself.

“Thanks for the assist,” she said.

“No problem! Let’s go chase down some more!”

Lee leaned out of the window to address them.

“You with the Guild?”

“Yeah! Tusker and I are part of Clan Gruul. I’m Domri, by the way.”

“Cool. Let’s get cracking before the PU get here. You ready Fil?”

Filigree gave a shaky thumbs up as she clambered into the back of the van.
“Alright then. Beezlebub, give us and our friend here a route to the next combat.”

As the tiefling summoned the illusory path to guide them to the next spot of conflict, Domri climbed up Tusker and Lee revved her hovervan to life. Together, the group dived back into the fray.

 

[The Future Warrior]

"Just get yourself back to the headquarters as best you are able."

That statement still echoed in her head, even as she spent several precious minutes trying to simply get herself moving again. She had not spoken a lie; she was in fact still functional, and she could indeed still move. But not effectively, and not easily. She had severely overstrained and overworked nearly all of her systems, and the cooling and damage management systems were very nearly burnt out entirely from trying to mitigate the absurdity of what she had just put them through.

The fact she could still move at all was remarkable in and of itself.

Slowly, her arms shifted along the ground, sliding to a narrower stance to start pushing herself further upright. A loud grinding, whining noise of straining gears and servos set off several additional warning bells in her diagnostics. Her arms, especially, had born the brunt of the self-wrought devastation; even supporting her own weight was now almost more than they could bear. Pushing herself up again was taxing them to the limit, and even set a few sparks to burst from one shoulder joint, but she accomplished it.

First one knee, then the opposite boot slid onto place under her. Swaying and heaving unsteadily and crazily, as if the ground itself were pitching and shifting around with the chaos and noise of the ongoing siege, Ashe-0 managed to stand up again. She took the additional time to fully gain her bearings again, letting her sensors adjust to the damage and find the proper direction for her, while watching the chaos at hand carefully. A thin veil of static and haze was set over everything visually, preventing perfect clarity, but it wasn't difficult to make out the general route of everything. Additional reinforcements had arrived, it would seem. Not quite as...professional as anything truly military, but their effectiveness couldn't really be dismissed even so.

She was quite thankful for their timely arrival and the extra distraction and assistance they provided.

Though it was further taxing on her overburdened condition, she still put up what fight she could offer. A small handful of the void zombies at the scene were cut down by the remaining charges of her concealed weapon systems, before she deemed any further action would compromise her self-repair efforts too greatly. When things began to turn into a full-on fight to capitalize on the broken momentum of the elephant zoids as additional reinforcements started to arrive, Ashe knew it was time to make her exit.

"Beginning...retreat," she managed to get out. She doubted anyone would hear it through the chaotic din, but that wasn't important. It was just a reminder to herself and to update her systems, as she slowly took one step, and then another. Unsteady, lurching paces that never really smoothed out even as she started to pick up speed again. Much less of the graceful and coordinated sprint she had managed on the way to the scene, slipping around and through obstacles and vaulting over buildings and larger obstructions in her way and...more of a barely-together run, carefully stumbling around anything in her path.

Machine-driven precision, and a spark of unnatural determination kept her going in spite of the compromised parts of her internal workings. It was enough to keep her from simply falling over and eating shit after a dozen paces, at the very least. It did not, however, do very much at all for the heat still built up from her unadvised overclocking attempt as it still radiated off of her in visible ripples. The continued exertion, forcing already strained and damaged components to work above safe resting levels, was only causing extra complication. No cooling down at this rate, until she had a chance to drop into a resting state for repairs.

* * *

How long it had taken she couldn't even begin to guess. At some point, perhaps 30 seconds after she had vacated the scene of the siege breakers' fall, her systems had gone haywire and shut down most non-essential functions. Memory logging of something as monotonous as 'retreat to headquarters' was one of them, apparently.

All she knew and could fully be aware of was that she suddenly slowed to a near-stop. A slow, lurching stumble as she finally reached the perimeter of the command post again. Entire limb shaking from wear and tear, Ashe brought a trembling hand up to her head as she tried to forcibly boot her comms again. "M-M-Major..." Her voice was unsteady and wavered heavily, fighting against the system-demanded efforts to shut down more functions to assist with preventing further damage. "...travel complete. I have-ve-ve...returned." The sound of fluid spurting from a rupture in her arm sounded, even through the comms. And her system had finally had enough.

A voice that wasn't Ashe's own, but that of her central monitoring software, suddenly cut into the call. "Entering...low power state." And the line went promptly dead.

Her raised arm fell limply to her side, the light in her eye fading from a bright blue to a dull bluish-gray. With a sound of something shifting with an unhealthy metallic crunch somewhere in her torso, several vents of steam ejected from her joints as she almost comically tipped forward and crashed to the ground. "This...seems to happen...with irritating frequency..."

 

[Ohm Zui]

Ohm is working on their nintieth drone when they receive Mustang’s message. About a fifth of the drones are communicators, now, and another sixth have been destroyed during operation; some by stray fire, a couple being attacked by zoids, one being blown to bits by a trigger happy mercenary. Still, before they reply they finish adding the holographic mechanism they took from a video game console and boot it up, slaving its controls to the CBA chatroom.

“Good news?” Celerity asks. She’s been keeping track of every product Ohm has used to build their drones, as well as removing packaging and adapting to the zoombini’s methods. They’re sure they could not have built as many drones as they have without her help, especially without her organising for Ohm to be allowed to work in the warehouse.

“Yes, we’ve finally got a reply from the Kingdom,” Ohm replies. “I’ll need to head there personally. I’ve got your contact details if I need more supplies while I’m there.”

She nods. “Keep up the good work.”

“Za-doo! I will.”

---

Ohm can’t fly and use their phonic device at the same time, and as they head towards the Kingdom’s forward base they take a breather on a lamppost. A few key independent fighters catch their eye: so far most of the mercenaries and independent defenders have had phones or communicators of their own, but these specific groups seem to be more potent fighters, and worth sacrificing some more drones. They contact the volunteers controlling the nearest drones and prepare to make contact.

---

As the sound of their ki blasts and magic knives faded, the two combatants took a moment to take stock of their situation. Chara and Orion ducked into a small alcove in a ruined wall to catch a breather, and hopefully avoid notice until they had found a way around their latest predicament.

As the saiyan glanced out at the battlefield, he spotted a small object hovering towards them.

“Tristelle, what is that?”

“My name’s Chara.”

Orion ignored the child as his AI replied.

It seems to be some kind of observation drone. It seems to have communication capabilities.

Orion nodded.

“We should get its attention.”

Chara looked in the direction the Saiyan was looking and nodded as well.

“Got it.”

The kid reached out a hand and a red string appeared from it, unfurling out to catch the drone’s attention. As the magic faded, the drone turned and hovered towards them. Hopefully it would be of use.

---

Lightning flew through the streets as Blade cut her way through more enemies. In a pause in the combat, a humming sound from above caught her attention, and she tilted her head to observe a small flying drone descend from the sky.

“Greetings,” a tinny voice rang out from the communicator built into the drone. “My name is Ohm Zui. I represent a group establishing communications with the independent fighters on the battlefield, so that the defenders can better coordinate. Do you have a communicator of your own?”

“Alas, I do not,” she replied.

“This drone can turn itself into a temporary communicator for you then. Please keep it functional as long as you can: it will provide us the feed of your surroundings.”

“And can you provide this information for my own maneuvres?”

“Yes, it should be on screen.”

Blade watched as a small screen emerged from the base of the hovering drone. On it, she could see her surroundings, as well as a number of enemies marked as moving through a nearby street.

“Very well. Provide me with this device, and I shall use it.”

---

Zedd reached out and plucked the drone from the air as it dropped, and watched disinterested as it tore itself apart to become a communications device.

“We will make use of this as long as it remains of use,” he said to himself, before turning to the soldiers that were following him. “Come! There is a beast that should suit out purposes not far from here!.”

As they continued to fight their way across the battlefield, the soldiers sighed and shouldered their weapons once more, following their best hope of survival back into the chaos.

---

With more fighters now in the loop, Ohm took flight. They shouldn’t keep the Major waiting much longer.

---

Ohm buzzed through the open door to find themselves in a bustling control room. In the centre of the table that lay in the middle of the room, Kingdom forces and their engagements were plotted in real time. Computers manned by soldiers and technicians filled the adjacent rooms, and the intense concentration of the staff was only broken by quiet, urgent conversations and the occasional group order.

In the midst of this hustle and bustle, Major Mustang stood by the table, clearly forewarned about Ohm’s arrival. What appeared to be his second in command confirmed something with a short, firm question, and at his nod she strode out of the room, the sound of her barking orders faintly audible outside.

Ohm looked for a place to perch, but any seats that might ordinarily be placed around the table were absent. The closest was a bench against one of the walls, on which a racoon being was cleaning some sort of gun with a toothy grin. Deciding that resting on the floor would be less than conducive to the upcoming conversation, Ohm buzzed over to the table itself and perched on one corner, putting them at almost eye level with the Major.

“Major Mustang, thank you for having me.”

“Ohm Zui. Where is your friend, Exodus Alight?”

“Exodus Alighted, Major. They are an information broker and skilled networker: to do what they are, they would not even need to be on planet. Besides, I am the one they are helping here. It was my choice that involved the two of us in this conflict.”

“Well then. Where did you come from, Ohm Zui?”

“Govermorne.”

There was a surprised pause, as Ohm had intended. The major seemed set back, and the zoombini pressed the advantage.

“Strictly speaking I am not a native to the Crossroads, but I had spent my time here traversing the gear districts before the disaster. If you are wondering why I am here, helping you, it is because I am going to outthink and outmaneuver those responsible for the destruction of so much, so quickly.”

“... and you're starting with intelligence gathering.”
“Yes. I was a designer of defences for the colony I am from, and I have a strong grasp of strategy and problem solving. Given the materials I need…”

Ohm takes out a collection of small electronic devices. As they rapidly adjust and reassemble them, they glance up to see the Major watching them intently. The man was not confused by the rapid movements and assembly, but instead was watching and calmly judging something about the zoombini, though what they could not say. They returned their focus to the drone as it was finished, hovering up unsteadily from the table into the air.

“... I can create the resources to assist,” they finish, leaving the drone unconnected to the CBA network.

Mustang raised an eyebrow thoughtfully and gestured for Ohm to continue.

“As you may have noticed, while we have a lot of information on the conflict, it loses focus in its diversity,” they said, hovering into the air and letting the drone project the CBA hologram next to the Kingdom map table. It was indeed much busier, but plenty of places were marked with question marks, or crowded beyond readability with detail. “It differs, however, from Kingdom data, in that we are gathering intelligence from multiple sources. The drones are providing aerial camera feed, we’ve begun appealing to the Guild members for their personal data sources and anything that is available online, be it news footage, weather data or volunteered numbers by concerned citizens,” they highlighted the barrier energy levels, currently at about 83% and still slowly dropping, “and with the number of civilians volunteers we’ve been able to sift through it all quickly, if only roughly.”

“So why does it matter? Why go through all that effort?” Mustang asked, question more rhetorical than direct. Ohm could see he was already comparing the two maps, spotting places where the Kingdom’s information was better than the CBA’s and vice versa.

“Because with it I can spot the places that the defence needs shoring up. And with that, I can solve the puzzle of how to stabilise this conflict.”

“Explain.”

Ohm nodded and adjusted the hologram so that it was now overlaid with the map table. The two differing systems overlapped, allowing Ohm to hover into the air and circle it as they pointed out their words with their propellor.

“The barrier’s collapse is the goal of the attackers, obviously, because then there’s nothing between them and the populace of Markov. At that point, artillery fire alone could cause casualties stretching into the millions, and would force an evacuation. The main approach is the one that the Kingdom’s forces are protecting against, the defensive line that’s held between the oncoming horde and the barrier itself. However.”
Ohm switched the hologram to show a graph of the barrier’s integrity over time. Since the beginning of the conflict, it had fallen from 100% to 83%.

“These numbers, while approximate, are based on the energy fluctuations provided from one of the coupling facilities. Cytokine’s fusion reactors are functioning at maximum capacity, which should be restoring the shield slowly overtime. This isn’t happening because the barrier is still under attack.”

They shifted the hologram again, this time highlighting the enormous mech that sat at the back of the enemies forces.

“This machine has been slowly and steadily firing powerful shells, on average one every five minutes. While they have chosen to strike at the most successful parts of the defensive line, it is also focusing on the barrier the other half of the time.”

They shifted the focus again, this time highlighting a collection of zoids.

“These zoids are what is preventing the barrier recharging between strikes. These flying zoids are choosing to target the barrier whenever they are unengaged by Pilot’s Union forces or Kingdom artillery fire. These artillery zoids are focusing on the barrier when not engaged similarly. Something is preventing Markov’s defenders from targeting these attackers and allowing the barrier to recharge.”

Mustang furrowed his brow. He gestured for a few of his staff to stop and listen.

“And I suppose you have an answer to that question, then.”

“Not entirely. I suspect that there is less communication than ideal between the Kingdom and the other factions, but I can only point at the size of the safe distance between Kingdom anti-air and the Pilot’s Union in the air, and the same between the Pilot’s Union bombing strikes and the Kingdom’s ground forces. I’m assuming you’ve not been able to share IFF frequencies at such short notice?”

“You’re wrong,” Mustang stated, glaring at Ohm. “The Pilot’s Union has our IFF frequencies already. It is only the Guild and Cytokine that we’ve had trouble with.”

“Zoo-ee?! Then why so much of a safety margin?” Ohm asked, confused. They reexamined the pattern of flight trails and flak, confused.

“The dogfights that the PU mechs are engaging in are too frenzied for the AA guns to fire near safely,” the major said, “and there’s not much we can do about that.”

“Unless you were to present your firing patterns to the PU pilots,” Ohm responded, mind racing as they took in the new information. “Then they could plan their flight paths around your flak, instead of you having to respond to them.”

Mustang glanced up at a nearby staff member who had been listening. The staff member checked a few things on their datapad before looking tentatively up at the major. “... that might work.”

“See to it.” Mustang turned back to Ohm. “You sounded like you had more to say.”

“Yes. You’re already aware of the akata and void zombies that are harassing the defenders behind the Kingdom’s main line: between posting micro bounties on troublespots and the communications network the CBA is creating between the independents that situation should be reaching a stable level. However, in order to properly reinforce the main line, Cytokine’s forces need to be reassigned.”

Ohm changed the highlighting. The positions of the Cytokine gundams and droid detachments sprung to life in and around the kingdom positions, and Mustang blinked in surprise.

“What happened? There’s no cohesion at all!”

“We’ve done some digging, and it’s no fault of Cytokine’s, not directly. You’ll notice that their official forces, the ones directly belonging to the main company, are positioned carefully to support the Kingdom line when they need it. However, presumably because of laws regarding quantity of armed defences, the majority of their forces aren’t held by Cytokine directly. Instead, they belong to their various subsidiaries. This gundam here, for example, officially belongs to Eezo Electronics. They have no security forces of their own for internal security, that’s handled by Cytokine proper, and their defence budget has gone to a small warehouse that housed the gundam. Similarly, this drone squadron here belongs to Yokai Industrial, and is being directed from their servers. The CBA have been compiling a list of which units on the battlefield belong to which subsidiaries, but we don’t have the authority to direct them.”

“But I do, as a Kingdom representative,” Mustang said. “Cytokine officially is following our lead, but we’ve only been giving instruction on the direct line. Provide us with that list and we can get them in position.”

“Exactly. Here.”

Ohm lands and uses their phonic device to send the list to Mustang’s communicator.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. So, once these problems are addressed, the conflict should reach a stalemate,” Ohm said. “At least with regards to barrier conditions. I don’t have the figures on rates of attrition yet, though if you’re willing to send the CBA data, even pared down, that may come later.”

The Major nodded, clearly calculating the costs of the choices he might make. Before he could answer, one of the doors popped open and a young kid poked their head in.

“Hey Mustang? McStuffins sent me to give you the preliminary findings we got from the goo.”

The major turned, but before he or Ohm could react further, his temporary communicator burst to life with Ashe-0’s voice.

 

[Mickey Mouse]

Ashe-0’s return to the forward command post would’ve been heralded with trumpets if not for the increasingly dire situation the defenders of Markov found themselves in.

Luckily, Hiro had enough fanboy-ish passion to make up for the lack of accolades she received, gazing longingly at her as some of Major Mustang’s soldiers escorted her to the repair bay. Just like Starscream, she was truly a thing of beauty -- designed to perfection, in the young genius’ opinion. He’d grown so used to shoddy craftsmanship of the Pilots’ Union mechs and Cytokine droids, state of the art at some point in their lives but now behind the times. Something felt different about artificial intelligences like Ashe-0, Starscream, and Baymax; they felt, somehow, a level above the rest of the more mundane bots Cevanti had to offer.

Naturally, Hiro had to see the elephant zoid-chucking cyborg up close.

“Hiro,” Baymax chirped as the boy started to cut a path from the command center to the repair bay Ashe had been ushered into, “Major Mustang asked us to ‘stay put.’”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, he’ll be fine,” Hiro waved off Baymax’s protests, continuing his charge.

“He was ‘very serious,’” Baymax quoted the Major’s words. “I will play the audio for you.”

Behind him, Hiro heard Baymax’s speakers replay Major Mustang’s order to them. Indeed, the phrases ‘stay put, Hamada’ and ‘I am very serious about this, do not leave the command post’ were included in the de facto commander’s spiel. Certainly, he knew, the Major hadn’t really reacted… positively to news that the dark matter had almost taken over Baymax’s circuitry, and had made moves to keep the pair of vigilantes farther away from the fight. But Baymax was fine, now -- he and the Doc had managed to reboot him nicely, and a quick diagnostic scan showed all his systems in operating order.

Hiro rolled his eyes. He’d never paid any mind to the Kingdom’s authority before, so why start now?

His hoodie flapped in the wind as he wove through a sea of scurrying soldiers, each marching determinedly towards their destination. He hadn’t yet been let in on what exactly the big final push was, and knowing Mustang and Hawkeye, he wasn’t sure if he would be. Sure, they’d felt just fine placing him in danger when it was useful to them, but if his unique set of skills wasn’t something that could provide a direct benefit, he knew the pair of them probably felt pretty hesitant to send a fifteen-year-old kid out to the front lines -- even if he did have an impressive flying robot companion to back him up. Hiro wanted to fight, though, desperately -- something in his heart told him that he was the only one who’d zeroed in on the focal point of the threat.

Investigating this Ashe-0 might prove fruitful for that endeavor, as well. He pushed through the curtain into the repair bay, shirking any thoughts of trying to be stealthy and instead immediately sidling up next to the mechanic working on the large golem.

“Fuckin’,” the mechanic said as she felt Hiro’s presence at her side. She glanced down at the short intruder, and huffed. “Goddammit, not you, Hamada.”

Heh, Hiro thought, so I really do have a reputation.

Ashe-0 was impressive. There was a reason she hadn’t been brought into one of the regular repair bays and instead had been cordoned off in this hangar normally reserved for tanks and fighters and other vehicles -- she was easily ten feet tall, cutting an impressive silhouette even sitting on the ground, hunched over from the damage she’d received. The mechanic stepped down off her stepladder, taking a few steps back and scratching her head as, Hiro supposed, she attempted to discern what to do next.

“Having trouble?” the boy genius smirked.

“Absolutely not,” the mechanic held up a wrench-wielding hand. “I’ve gotten her back online, I’ve just…”

Ashe’s head tilted upwards. Her single big eye began to glow a brighter shade of blue, and Hiro Hamada couldn’t stop his jaw from hanging just a bit lower than it normally did. Damn, for all this shit that was happening, at least he was getting an up close and personal look at some badass robots.

She seemed… distracted, though. “Ashe-0, huh?” the boy spoke, stepping towards the bot. The mechanic reached out to stop him but he brushed her off. “What’s going on up there, Ashe? Are your language filters back online yet?”

There was a little bit of mechanized white noise before, finally, the war construct seemed to find her words again. “I have many warning messages popping up in my displays, but am not yet rebooted enough to pinpoint the source of the issue.”

Her head tilted slightly, and Hiro watched as her eye zeroed in on him.

“You are a small child.”

He bristled. “I just haven’t hit my growth spurt yet!” he whined, approaching her further. “I wonder what you run on. Supercapacitors maybe?” he muttered to himself, reaching out and placing a hand on a section of Ashe-0’s torso. Immediately, he jerked his hand back, the golem’s ‘skin’ feeling entirely too hot to the touch. He nodded, biting his lip a bit, and spoke almost to himself. “You’re overheating.”

Ashe-0 stared with as much interest as she could. “Yes.”

Hiro spun around, rushing to the mechanic and swiping the goggles off her face and the wrench from her hand. “I’ve got this,” he informed her, and, above whatever protests the woman tried to make, continued. “Can you grab me some gloves?”

***

The mechanic and Baymax watched as Hiro managed to cool down Ashe-0’s systems in record time. As it turned out, several of her coolant cords had been ruptured whenever she’d, as some soldiers had described it, fucked up that giant horde of elephant zoids -- an easy fix, once Hiro had convinced the mechanic to fetch him the necessary parts to replace some of the broken sections. She also needed some tune-ups to some of her hydraulics, and within maybe half an hour, the boy genius stood before the gigantic war golem, arms crossed satisfactorily as she began to move her servos at the proper level of function.

Her single eye trained, once again, on the young boy before her. “You have impressive skill for a boy of your age,” she stated matter-of-factly. Hiro blushed slightly.

“Ah, I just have lots of practice living in this hell-hole,” he shrugged. “Anyway, I wasn’t able to give you a perfect fix -- I’d need a little bit more time for that -- but you should be able to get back out in the fight, if you wanted.”

Ashe-0 nodded. “Yes,” she deadpanned, “I assume I am needed.”

“From what I can tell, they need all the help they can get,” Hiro said, ripping off his gloves and stuffing his hands in his hoodie pockets. “That’s why Baymax and I are going back out there, too, no matter what Mustang says.” This seemed to elicit higher interest from Ashe-0 than anything Hiro had yet said.

“Major Mustang is a wise and rational leader,” she noted. “You are young. If he deems it an inadvisable course of action for you to re-engage with the enemy, then perhaps it is.”

“Chances of survival are low,” Baymax echoed.

“I don’t care about the odds,” Hiro swerved around to his healthcare companion. “You know what Tadashi would’ve done, Baymax. Someone has to help, right? That’s what he would’ve said. I have to help.”

“Tadashi… would want you to be safe,” the healthcare bot replied.

Unprompted, a video popped up on Baymax’s chest of Tadashi, but he didn’t look the way Hiro wanted to remember him. In the video, his brother was lying on a hospital bed -- and the younger Hamada knew it had been taken in the hours before his death. The older boy looked over at, Hiro supposed, Baymax, and the strain and hurt in his eyes was clear. His breathing was ragged, and tears gathered, about to overflow onto his cheeks. Hiro looked away.

“Baymax…” Tadashi’s voice rang out behind him, “...you’re all Hiro’s got now. Keep him safe, okay? Keep him safe for me? That’s an order.”

“Tadashi would want me to do what’s right,” Hiro scowled. “Turn it off, Baymax. I’m one of the only people who’s seen that big thing at the back up close. They’re gonna need me. I’ve gotta go help.”

“Humans are not rational,” Ashe-0 observed. “I do not know who this ‘Tadashi’ is, but it is not advisable to let your feelings about him cloud your judgment. You are correct that the mech at the back of the horde seems to be the focal point of the enemy’s efforts. I will do my best to communicate this.”

Her joints lurched as she pushed herself off the ground and back into a standing position. Hiro watched, his awe mixing with his fury and anxiety, as she staggered out of the repair bay and back into the open air section of the forward command post.

The mechanic had disappeared to other duties as Hiro’s repairs of Ashe-0 seemed to be winding down, so he and Baymax now stood alone in this section of the hangar.

“Hiro,” Baymax chimed in, “your clenched fists and gritted teeth indicate you are… frustrated.”

“I’m not frustrated,” the boy barked, snapping his head to look up at the robot.

“Your raised tone of voice suggests otherwise,” came the response.

“I’m just determined,” Hiro said, low. “I’ve gotta help, Baymax. I’ve gotta do whatever I can.” He could feel his heart pounding, but wasn’t sure if it was fear, adrenaline, passion, or something altogether different getting his blood pumping. “I don’t know what else to do but fight. This is our… this is our home, Baymax. It was... it was Tadashi’s home.”

He felt his voice break just a bit. Baymax didn't try to offer a counterpoint.

“Come on,” Hiro started out of the hangar and back towards the forward command post, gesturing for Baymax to follow. “Let’s suit up.”

 

[Lord Zedd]

Zedd’s posture shifted at the sight of some sort of fighter jet approaching. He was familiar with them, as he’d destroyed plenty during his rampage across the planet Earth. It was almost comforting to see some level of technology he was recognized with in this new, desolate world. Yet, it would burn all the same.

The fallen warlord braced himself, letting out an audible cackle before a shocking development silenced him abruptly. As the fighter approached it began to reconfigure in midair, taking a shape that somewhat resembled a humanoid. Of course, it stood far taller. Zedd shifted backwards, his body language betraying the surprise he was trying to hide with this shocking development.

“Identify yourself!” the robotic being roared as it towered over the warlord.

Zedd glanced in every direction before assessing that he would have to murder or be murdered.

“So, you are a fabled… zoid!” Zedd roared back as he struck a battle ready stance. He only paused as he struggled to remember the names of these beasts. He would not be intimidated by the display.

“Zoid!” Grace nervously, yet helpfully confirmed from behind him.

“I am no zoid, imbecile!” the robot retorted. “I am Starscream, rightful heir to the Decepticon throne!”

“How long winded,” Zedd scoffed as he relaxed somewhat, immediately judging the being as inferior to him. Not that his assessment was any different that usual. “If you wish to strike fear, keep it simple like this: I am Lord Zedd, emperor of all I see.”

“Soon the Decepticons will be all you see, but I can assure you that you will rule none of them,” Starscream replied, assessing the situation himself. This was very clearly the uncertain arrival he had heard of on the radio. “None of it will matter if we do not direct our strength to these invaders.”

“And I would join you for what purpose?” Zedd demanded as he sized up the machine, still.

“They would kill you now, I will not,” Starscream couldn’t make it any simpler. This newcomer had a lot of rage, and that was something he found easy enough to redirect.

“Very well!” Zedd agreed. He didn’t like the situation, but at the moment he didn’t have much of an advantage. Aligning himself with the machine that would strike at him tomorrow instead of today was a best case scenario. “Show me where I can seize the most power.”

Starscream scoffed as he began to convert to a fighter once more. This would would be of use. “This way…”

Zedd took one last look at the four who served as his welcoming committee. It was tempting to end their existence, but he was still learning up from down, and didn’t need to anger his temporary allies. Perhaps another day.

“You may flee, minions,” the lost conquerer remarked. “Screaming, if you wish.”

The others watched as Zedd charged after his new flying ally. All they could do was shrug and feel overwhelming relief.

“Let’s get to a safer place and do what we can,” Knox decided, pointing behind them. “Link up with another squad.”

“Good enough for me,” Laci agreed.

“You think they’ll be alright?” Grace asked as she watched the departing warriors.

“…Does it matter?” Cade was blunt with his opinion. They were dead if they followed those lunatics into the heart of the war.

The soldiers agreed, and were quick to retreat to a defensible position where they could help their home.

 

[Rebecca Chambers]

A roar of jet engines thundered overhead as Starscream swooped back toward the command post, turning in a wide arc over the tattered assortment of buildings scattered about. The sound of laserfire and explosions in the distance drummed out a fierce staccato in the background, an occasional blast striking the massive energy barrier wavering overhead, ripples traveling through it like a disturbed puddle. Meanwhile, the sky overhead remained dark and foreboding, burdened by tumultuous masses of living shadow.

The ‘Con kept a weather eye on the warlord tramping across the battered and broken landscape after him, only sparing the barest amount of attention to ensure this “Lord Zedd” was still following. Emperor indeed! The boastful organic couldn’t even fly. That, at least in Starscream’s opinion, was enough to mark him as little more than an annoyance. A necessary annoyance, and one that could potentially be thrown at larger threats, but certainly nothing approaching the sheer might of a being like Megatron, as much as Starscream loathed to admit it.

Starscream’s jet form wavered slightly in the air, a powerful shudder traveling through his chassis. Ugh, even thinking that dreary old buckethead’s name was enough to get him out of sorts. Best to think of bigger and better things… primarily, just what he planned to do now that the battle seemed to be reaching a turning point, the scales of fate poised to dip in either direction: certain and immediate destruction versus a... well, delayed, yet still quite certain destruction.

It didn’t seem to matter how he looked at it; the situation on Cevanti appeared devastatingly bleak. It was a wonder that the forces protecting Markov hadn’t yet abandoned their posts. Either he wasn’t giving these organics enough credit or (and this was far more likely, he supposed) they were all hopelessly, dreadfully stupid.

Ah, well. Only time would tell. As it was, Starscream amused himself with examining the military resources he could see scrambling about below, his flight speed slowing as he searched for a clear space to land. His visual sensors roved over the convoys of military vehicles he could see speeding off to the front, the ant-like forms of tiny organics skittering around them. It was quite a surprise, then, when he caught sight of a figure even remotely approaching his height striding out into the open, their colossal height towering over all other lifeforms nearby— discounting those seated inside battlemechs, of course.

Taking a moment to check on Lord Zedd’s progress, Starscream noted that he was still a ways behind; it would likely be several kliks before he’d reach the seeker’s position, provided that the warlord didn’t veer off course. Not that Starscream particularly cared either way, but, well… he was still holding onto the hope that his visit to the frontlines hadn’t been a total waste of time.

The nose of Starscream’s jet form veered toward the ground sharply, transforming mid-air with a series of mechanical pulses. His pedes struck the dirt with a resounding quake, and a moment later saw the seeker straightening up with deliberate grace, turning to regard the other towering figure standing a short distance away.

He startled to see a single blue optic staring back, obvious trauma and microfractures marring the apparently synthetic skin of the being standing before him. Starscream’s own optics shuttered in response, his wings drawn up tightly against his back, a mixture of suspicion, nervousness, and arrogance oozing off him in waves.

“A-ah,” said Starscream, attempting to regain his composure and not stare like a dim-witted fool. Primus, this one was certainly decorated like an organic. “Forgive me, I had not realized there were other… titans... on this side of the conflict.”

The other living machine, who had up until this point been crouched as if braced for a brawl, tilted her head to the side. “You are not an enemy zoid.”

Starscream scowled. “No! Why does everyone keep assuming that I am the enemy?” (‘Is it the optics?’ he muttered under his breath, prodding delicately at the side of his face with one sharpened claw.)

“Your appearance is quite alarming,” said his conversation partner in response, observing his theatrics with a bland expression that Starscream probably deserved. “My designation is Ashe-0. Will you identify yourself in return?”

My appearance is alarming? Starscream demanded internally, utterly at a loss for words. Never before had he come across a machine actually masquerading as an organic with all the odd frills and fabrics attached, though he supposed posing as a mode of transportation wasn’t much better. At least his disguise had some utility!

Forcibly clearing his vocalizer, Starscream dipped into a theatrical bow. “Of course. My name, Ashe-0, is Starscream. Well met and all that nonsense. Now, I know what you’re thi— where are you going?!”

The one-eyed she-behemoth was walking away from him. At his query, Ashe-0 paused and turned, a stiff resettling of her shoulders delineating the tension in her frame.

“It has likely not escaped your notice that the city is under attack. If it has indeed escaped your notice: Markov is under attack. There is no time to waste.”

“Yes, of course, that is plain to see,” Starscream sniffed, not appreciating her tone one bit. “But you are a mechanical organism. Capable of mathematical thought, of strategy beyond the ken of these… fleshlings. Look around, hm? Surely you recognize an unwinnable fight when you see one.”

Ashe-0’s cyclopean eye fixed him with a look of scrutiny so intense that Starscream skipped a half-step backward, anticipating an attack. Instead of lashing out at him, however, the other robot seemed to take his measure, analyzing him from the point of his helm down to the tips of his pedes, before responding at length.

“Affirmative. This is a difficult situation. One that I will attempt to rectify,” her eye flicked to his wings, then, with an inscrutable glint of interest. “You are capable of jet-powered flight.”

Starscream blinked at this apparent non sequitur. “Yes…? What does that have to do with anything?”

Ashe-0 turned, looking at the massive energy barrier in thought, her stare penetrating beyond it to the horde of feral zoids and shadowy akata swarming across the battlefield. “It is as you say. We are mechanical organisms. It stands to reason that we are equipped with the means necessary to mount a counterattack.”

“A… counter…” Starscream’s fiery optics narrowed to slits, even as it felt like his very spark jolted in alarm. “You’re joking—”

“Ah, so we will bring the fight to our enemies!” came a boisterous roar from underfoot, and Starscream had to curb the urge to blindly kick out at the noise’s source, still acutely aware of the multitude of squishy little creatures wandering around.

Thus, the seeker merely glanced down, glaring at the slightly winded form of one Lord Zedd. He was so sure he would have a few moments more to converse with a fellow advanced being, but alas...

“I see no reason why I should even consider doing that,” Starscream continued, returning his attention to Ashe-0. “That would be almost certain death. You’ve seen that colossal mech, haven’t you? Only a fool would dare to stand against such a mighty foe!”

Zedd scoffed. “Mighty? These enemies are mere stepping stones in my quest for power. They will fall like all the rest.”

Ashe-0, for her part, rewarded Starscream’s spluttering with an infuriatingly placid stare. “I am a machine. As are you. Do you doubt your capabilities?”

Oho, she had his number. Starscream visibly wavered, features twisting in a mask of indecision as his arrogance warred with his cowardice, a truly fierce battle indeed. Finally, the seeker ex-vented an enraged hiss, shoulder pauldrons slumping in defeat.

“This is a terrible idea.”

SQUAD UP!

 

[Mickey Mouse]

Normally, around this time of day, if dark clouds hadn’t blotted everything up, the skies around Markov’s northwestern forward command post might’ve turned a delicate mix of orange and purple. The Crossroads’ star had begun to dip just barely below the horizon, signaling the decline of the longest day in Cevanti’s known history since The End.

Hell, at this point, it might’ve been longer.

As Hiro Hamada fastened his violet breastplate into place over his dark gray fatigues, foreboding messages started to feed in over the comms link in the lab. He fitted himself back into his armor as cries of alarm and pessimistic readings on their chances flooded in. “I’m not sure how much longer we can hold them off,” one soldier radioed in. “The barrier’s strength is dropping too fast,” another warned. The fifteen-year-old boy couldn’t bear the thought of letting his home fall to these monsters without doing something about it.

He’d already done a lot, but he knew the fight wasn’t over until that big mech at the back of the horde was wiped from the face of the planet. He still wracked his brain trying to discern the origins of it and the weird, dark matter it used to infect the zoids and akata and other various creatures it held in its thrall. It had even almost gotten Baymax, something which the boy genius just couldn’t abide.

He slid on his gauntlets and glanced over his shoulder at Baymax, standing across the lab trying his best to put on his own racing red armor. The bulbous robot was usually able to slip his feet into the boots, but pretty much everything else was a task quite out of his depth. In the midst of all this turmoil, Baymax’s struggle brought a smile to Hiro’s face, and he crossed the room to help his buddy suit up, as he always did.

“Here, Baymax,” he said, gently lifting the abdominal armor from the bot’s hands and moving to squeeze it on. Baymax blinked as Hiro struggled to click the pieces together and stuff his big stomach into it, but eventually, he managed. Next, the rocket fists.

“Hiro,” Baymax chirped as the boy went for the big, rocket-powered gauntlets, “I still have concerns about your participation in this attack. I will list them now.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Hiro shrugged as he shoved one of the fists on, “save it, Baymax. I’m going.”

“One: you are small and very susceptible to injury.”

“Thanks but no thanks for that one, buddy,” Hiro laughed as the bot continued to list off reasons he was wholly unsuited for this mission. Baymax wasn’t wrong -- he wasn’t exactly in tip-top physical shape like the rest of the people fighting to save the city. He knew Major Mustang’s original call had been meant to summon powerful heroes from other parts of the galaxy. His geeky, thin, fifteen-year-old form wasn’t exactly the ideal body to answer the call, but… what choice did it have? From what he could tell, most of those defending Cevanti were people from Cevanti. He’d heard very few reports of others responding to Mustang’s distress signal, save for those like Ashe-0, and from what he understood, she had a personal relationship with the Major.

Why had the rest of the Crossroads abandoned them? Did they just not… understand the magnitude of what was happening here? Maybe they figured it wasn’t going to affect them, but the pure, unadulterated darkness of the whole situation had made Hiro’s blood run cold. This wasn’t going to stop with Markov, or even with Cevanti. This force, whatever it was, was here for the whole galaxy or nothing at all -- and the fact that those on the outside hadn’t yet grasped that disturbed the boy greatly.

Maybe, after Markov was saved -- or even if it wasn’t -- someone, a survivor or something, could try and turn the tide on the other worlds. The longer the deep evil of what they were facing sat with Hiro, the more he felt like any resistance they could manage here today was just a bandaid.

But he had to do his part to keep his world safe as long as he could, right?

I have to.

“It appears Doctor McStuffins has already evacuated the planet,” Baymax observed, turning his optics toward the pair of escape pods on the opposite wall.

Hiro had seen them before, when he and the Doc were in here examining the zoid sample -- he supposed the Kingdom’s military put some in here just in case. In situations like this one, saving minds like McStuffins’ had to be a high priority. Her medical expertise could be of use on the front, yes, but certainly they couldn’t risk losing her intellect. When the going got tough, it seemed, these pods -- and, Hiro supposed, others throughout the command post -- could be used to evacuate important figures. It was morbid, but it was effective, and one, it seemed, had already been launched.

Hiro didn’t have any negative feelings about McStuffins getting chosen to evacuate; in the short time he’d known her, he’d grown to respect her quite a bit. Certainly, she would be able to accomplish great things wherever she ended up. She would be essential in the fight to come against this Darkseid presence, and her knowledge of the dark matter from their time together might just prove to be invaluable.

Arbiterspeed, Doc, he thought as he clambered up onto a table and shoved Baymax’s helmet down onto the robot’s head.

“There,” the boy smiled for what he knew might be one of the last times, “all suited up.”

Time to move ou --

“Whoa!” he yelled as Baymax’s big arms scooped him up off the table. “Buddy, what are you doing?”

The healthcare robot did not respond, but carried Hiro Hamada, largely against his will, in the direction of the other escape pod. After only a few steps, the young genius realized what was going on.

“Baymax, no -- ” he shouted, flailing and squirming as best he could, but especially with his armor on, Baymax’s grip was nigh inescapable, and within moments, Hiro found himself being tossed into the pod and the door closing shut behind him. He scrambled to his feet and tried to slip through the opening, but it fastened shut before he could reach it. His fist smashed against the burgundy-tinted window. A small slot at the top of the window, which would close when the launch sequence initiated, allowed him to still converse with the robot who’d placed him there. “Baymax,” he growled, “let me out, Baymax.”

Baymax stood outside the escape pod, blinking. “You are my patient,” he stated simply, “I cannot let you do this, Hiro.”

“Let me do this?!” the boy roared, slamming his fist against the window again.

“The chances of your survival are slim to none,” Baymax said. “Tadashi… would want you to survive. It was his final task for me.”

Hiro felt himself start to hyperventilate at the sound of his brother’s name. He blinked back tears, stumbling slightly away from the window of the pod. He saw Tadashi again and again, strong and mighty like he was most of his life, and weak, splayed out on a hospital bed like he was near the end. He heard, all too clearly, the message that Baymax had played before, in Ashe-0’s presence.

“You’re all Hiro’s got now,” his brother had said. “Keep him safe, okay? Keep him safe for me?”

Hiro closed his eyes. None of the images were real -- they were all in his mind -- so he didn’t know why he thought that would help. As expected, it didn’t, and he just saw his brother’s stupid face more.

Why?! Why, Tadashi?!

Why did he prioritize Hiro’s safety over everything else? What the hell even was he? A snarky kid, with a mildly impressive brain. Sure, he had robotics skills that could put everyone working for Cytokine to shame, and he’d managed to become a pretty stellar bot-fighter in his fifteen years, too, so much so that he felt confident he could probably take out any of the Kingdom’s mech fighters with a little more practice. But wasn’t that the reason he needed to stay and fight? As much as he’d wanted to get off Cevanti, he needed to stay and ensure its survival -- he needed to fight. This wasn’t the way he wanted to leave his planet. He wasn’t going to just leave it behind, he was willing to give up everything for it.

His eyes snapped open. He’d been willing to give up everything for it. He’d been willing to throw away all his tech expertise, his years of potential, his knowledge of the threat, his robotics skills… he’d been willing to throw all that into the garbage and burn it up in the name of defending this planet, in the name of defending his home. His heart sunk into his stomach and he felt his gut twist every which way as it hit him like a missile just how selfish that was.

He looked up at Baymax, who still stood in the same place outside the escape pod. He blinked, and felt a wetness begin to roll down his face.

“Baymax...”

“Hiro.”

The pair looked at each other for several moments. Baymax was a robot, so Hiro was pretty sure he couldn’t feel emotions, but in this moment, he almost looked sad.

The bot waddled over to the escape pod, opened his arms, and hugged the tiny spaceship. Hiro pressed himself against the inside wall, hugging him back.

“Baymax,” Hiro repeated, “you’re still going?”

“Yes,” Baymax whirred. “Your escape is what… Tadashi… would have wanted. Protecting Cevanti is what… you… would want.”

Hiro wiped snot from his nose and reached a hand through the slot in the window, pressing the tiny circular button on Baymax’s chest. His chips slid out, and Hiro removed the mint-green one. He glanced at it, looking at the piece of tape with a Baymax face drawn on it in permanent marker and the name ‘Tadashi’ over it. He pressed it to his chest, and looked back up at the bot. “You won’t be much good totally annihilating that mech if you’ve still got your healthcare chip telling you to save everyone,” he sniffled. He bumped a fist to the window, and Baymax bumped his back.

“Ba-la-la-la-la-la-la,” they said in unison.

Baymax stepped back from the pod. “I cannot deactivate until you say you are satisfied with your care.”

Hiro bit his lip.

“I... am satisfied with my care.”

***

Outside, Baymax watched the escape pod holding the small form of Hiro Hamada blast off into the atmosphere. He stared at it for several moments until it disappeared past the clouds and he could be sure his… friend… had made it safely off the planet.

Not far away, Ashe-0 and the robot responsible for Hiro’s safe return to the forward command post stood, with a creature more comparable in size to Baymax himself, planning something. The healthcare robot blinked as he observed the war golem. As much as he could admire something, he found himself admiring her, and her tenacity, and her willingness to help the humans. It was in his programming to also be this tenacious, to also stop at nothing to help the humans.

He waddled towards the group. When he was in earshot, he spoke to them in his traditional monotone. No one would be able to discern the metaphorical fire raging within his circuitry.

“Hello,” he said, “I am Baymax. I would like to join you.”

And I'm out! This has been so fun, one of my favorite Multerra experiences thus far, y'all.

Hiro has escaped Cevanti, probably landing on the ARC eventually. Baymax is joining Starscream, Ashe-0, and Lord Zedd in their assault on the Fade.

 

[The Future Warrior]

“I have calculated that it is a very terrible idea, yes,” Ashe quietly spoke. Her blunt admission of agreement seemed to momentarily take the seeker off-guard, judging by the way his head slightly tilted a scant few degrees to one side. “With a situation as bad as this one, however, a terrible idea is better than none at all.” She turned her head aside to again gaze out over the battlefield, past the barrier, and to the distant point where the gargantuan form of the strange mech instigating this entire affair stood. Even if it was not currently visible, she knew where it was.

From what she had gathered, it had yet to move since beginning its onslaught.

“Speak then, of what your plan actually is, machine!” the strange entity of bare flesh and steel spoke up, his voice an almost palpable snarl of barely-restrained fury.

“Yes, by all means. Please do enlighten us what you have in mind, beyond a direct charge into certain death,” Starscreem added.

“Continuing with the current state of affairs and strategy is not likely to result in a victory. Perhaps a stalemate at best.” She went quiet for a moment, as if lost in thought. “...that is why it falls to deviating from the current plan, and from what is logical or even sensible, to the completely outlandish.” One arm slowly rose up, to point toward the distant location of the huge mech at the heart of this catastrophe. “Engaging the leader of this directly.”

“Yes, yes, but to what end exactly?” Starscream cut in with a quick swipe of his taloned fingers. “Simply charging directly at it is sure to result in utter annihilation. Even a glancing blow from the firepower of that…thing would tear us to pieces!”

“I am aware.” Ashe’s gaze returned to meet the optics of the seeker, with as unfazed an expression as ever. “I ceased calculating the odds when the percentage chances for survival or success reached six decimal places one falling below one.”

“So you mean to say that it is not a true certainty of death or failure.” Zedd crossed his arms as he spoke up, his boiling anger receding to a dull simmer as he contemplated this new information. “You wish to take the chance and bank on the absurd, then.”

“....no.” Ashe’s voice suddenly went quiet, and low. “I do not wish to defeat this entity. I do not think we can defeat it, even if we should manage to take it by surprise with a sudden attack. But destroying it was never my objective.”

“What?!” for a single, fleeting instant, the voices of Starscream and Lord Zedd merged into a single, rage and confusion-filled duet as the voiced the same word in unison.

Before the war golem could explain further, the large form of Baymax waddled into speaking range. As Ashe momentarily diverted her single eye to look down at him, he spoke up.

“Hello,” he said, “I am Baymax. I would like to join you.”

“Another machine?” Zedd snapped, voice somewhere between simply raised and outright shouting. “How much of this world’s inhabitants are so…automated?” He spat the final word with a surprising venom.

Curiously, Ashe turned fully to look at the healthcare robot and slowly knelt down to get a closer look. “You were with the young child who performed my repairs. Hiro.”

“That is correct,” Baymax droned in response. “I have secured his safety.”

“Our current task has a less than 0.000003% chance of survival,” Ashe-0 spoke quietly. “Is this acceptable?”

The healthcare robot was quiet for a moment, his face briefly turning down. “Yes,” he finally answered. “That is satisfactory.”

“Very well, then.” With nothing further said to him, Ashe simply stood back up. “As I said before...destruction or defeat of this entity is not my objective, nor do I believe it to be an easily-achievable feat; an even lower likelihood of success than our survival. Another objective, however, has much higher odds for successful completion: distracting it, and breaking its focus.”

“Unbelievable…” Starscream seethed, lifting a clawed hand to rest over his optics. “That level of idiocy is almost beyond me to follow, and it pains me to admit that I even can follow it at all!”

“Whatever the odds or chances are do not matter!” Lord Zedd barked, unfolding his arms to let them rest at his sides. “But the question which does matter remains: why risk everything for such a feeble objective?”

“As I stated before: currently, a grueling stalemate or complete defeat seem the most likely outcomes as things stand.” Ashe-0 turned away again, starting to slowly pace away from the central part of the command post and toward its edges. The others somewhat reluctantly started to plod after her. “However, I have...a theory. If the strange mech at the rear of this unprecedented force can be staled, its focus broken and attention diverted even for a few minutes...then it may buy enough time to mount a re-organized effort, as well as taking pressure off the shields from its artillery fire.”

“Chances for success of this operation are...low,” Baymax helpfully supplied. “But not entirely unrealistic. Chance for positive outcome if successful are promising.”

“Very well, then. I understand your intention and objective now,” Starscream interjected. “But I must still ask why are you willing to risk yourself for such a thing?”

“This city...is the last safe place on this world, as my understanding tells,” the amazonian golem spoke. As if questioning this, she turned to look silently down at Baymax. The healthcare robot looked back up at her. The momentary silence and lack of disagreement seemed enough confirmation for her as she looked back forward and continued. “If it falls, then this world falls. If this world falls, it will be only a matter of time before everyone and everything on it falls as well. Such an event is--”

“And what does something like that matter?” Zedd cut in suddenly, waving a hand through the air to gesture out at the city. “If this world falls, then it simply means they were weak enough to be defeated. Why should we care at all what becomes of them?”

Ashe paused, and came to a complete halt. Slowly, she turned to regard the lost conqueror with her cyclopean gaze. After several tense, silent seconds she slowly lowered herself into a crouch, then down into a full kneel. Further down, until her huge single eye was level with the visor of the enraged warlord. “We. Are also on this world,” she said. Her voice came out slow and even, but with a surprising volume and weight to it. “We. Would die as well.”

The statement seemed to momentarily stall any further comeback from the tyrant of flesh and steel, so the golem took her chance to stand back up. “Inevitable death and certain at the end of complete and utter failure….or nearly certain death at the cost of providing a chance to do something meaningful and give others a chance. That is the reason for this task, foolish as it may seem.”

“I have already taken...contingency measures,” she went on. “I have a set of components that can assure my own reconstruction and safety even in the event of certain death or total annihilation. I cannot offer the same security to you. But, this world...or at least, these worlds at large, have...ways of restoring the dead. I can offer the security of my efforts to restore you after this, should you assist.”

Starscream’s optics narrowed to glimmering points of light as he waved a hand dismissively. “If there are such efforts, why should we have to--”

“It is not a certainty,” Ashe-0 cut in, with a surprisingly cold edge to her voice. “I would have no obligation to render any assistance, nor can I guarantee anyone would remember or notice your inevitable death at the end of this conflict should you perish in any other fashion.”

“You are also a machine,” Baymax added, indicating Starscream. “As am I. We can be rebuilt with far less difficulty, provided the correct plans and materials.”

Zedd, having been uncharacteristically silent, finally spoke again. “Then so be it, machine,” he sneered. “I will grace you with the honor of my assistance, and your pledge of assuring my return from whatever fate awaits at the end of this absurd plan of yours. But know this…” He lifted an arm and pointed at Ashe in a fashion which, she supposed, may have been menacing if she weren’t well more than three times his size. “Should you fail to revive me...I will find another way to return. And you will be made to pay for your betrayal.”

The utterly unfazed stare he received in response was almost comical. Especially punctuated as it was by the distant whistle of a falling bomb, matching the slow blink of her single eye as it exploded. “Affirmative,” she finally said, with all the amusement of a funeral, and slowly swiveled her eye to look at Starscream.

“This...is completely absurd!” he said again, before throwing up his hands in final defeat. “But, fine! Very well; I will assist you!” he wailed, clenching his talons into fists. “I am far too generous and sacrificial for my own good, I know! Simply do make sure you bring me back every bit as perfect as I am now, or I will be...very displeased.” He slowly let his arms fall to dangle at his sides. “....and please enlighten me as to how we may all assist. By your earlier comment, something to do with my ability to fly, yes?”

“Affirmative,” the she-behemoth confirmed. “We must cross the battlefield quickly to reach the target, and engage it before it has time to fire upon us.” She turned away briefly. “....I will need you all to provide assistance and distraction against it, while I prepare a specific weapon.”

“A specific weapon?” the seeker leaned in slightly, seeming intrigued. “What, pray tell, would that be?”

“If simple brute force and surprise will not distract it sufficiently, then perhaps enough raw force can inflict a wound of some caliber upon it and force it to retreat, even if temporarily.” Ashe straightened up, all four hands slowly curling into fists. “If all else fails...that is my final option.”

* * *

After the agreement for assistance had finally been made, Ashe took a moment to part from the others for preparations of a different sort. She carefully flagged down one of the soldiers in the base, and knelt down for a quick conversation with them. “I have a small request, if I may,” she said softly.

“I, uh...y-yeah, sure?” The soldier in question said quickly, shifting their weight from one foot to the other. “I’ll do what I can.”

“I have a message that I need relayed. To Major Roy Mustang.” She lifted up a hand with one raised finger to stall any immediate response. “This should not be relayed immediately. Only after some time. When there comes a signal” With another arm she pointed out toward the distance, where her current objective was. “It...will be there. I doubt it will be missed.”

“Uuuh….o...okay, then.” The poor soldier was visibly confused, quickly glancing from Ashe to the indicated direction and back several times. I’ll see what I can do. What’s the message?”

“It is important it be delivered verbatim,” the amazonian machine said, with a far more firm tone than moments before. “The message is thus: ‘Major. This is Ashe-0. Repairs were successful. I had a realization and developed a new strategy, which I have put into action. By now you have likely seen the blast. I will not be returning from this objective in one piece….or at all I do hope it was successful in lending even some minor advantage.’ Will you be able to pass that on?”

The soldier had quickly fished out some kind of communications device and fiddled with it. “I, uh...h-hold on, that’s kinda long to remember, lemme just…” And he held it up. “Got this set to record, now. Could you repeat it? Might be better if it came directly from you, too, y’know?”

“....yes. That is acceptable.” And with the recording set, she did indeed repeat her message, though added a final statement to it: “....’I am happy to have been of service.’” The faint beep of the recording ending drew the smallest of nods from her. “You have my gratitude.” She rose up to stand again. “Do your best to survive this incident. It may be coming to an end very soon...for better or worse.”

“Uh, y-yeah…” The soldier fumbled with the comms device to stow it away again. “Good luck out there, with whatever you’re up to!” And they snapped a quick salute, which Ashe simply nodded to silently and turned away to lumber off and rejoin her momentary allies.

* * *

“Are we all finished with pleasantries now?” Starscream snapped as Ashe rejoined them. “This suicide mission won’t start itself.”

“Yes. I am finished with plans here.” Ashe’s tone remained flat, but had gone strangely...dull and quiet. “Let us set off. I will try to contact any others who may be willing and able to assist while we are en route.”

“I doubt there will be many more who are willing to sign up for certain death,” Zedd scoffed. “But for a task such as this, any amount of extra power to throw at this beast will be needed!”

“Odds of success can only be positively influenced from any additional help,” Baymax agreed in his own fashion.

“Further air support to help cover our flight would be appreciated,” the seeker sniffed, turning this way and that to mimic stretching. “I am more than capable of sufficient speed and maneuvers to evade most of the chaff up there normally, but…” He paused to look at the others. “...not when weighed down with the likes of you.”

“Understood. Contacting air support now…” Ashe momentarily went quiet as she switched over to her comms. “....this is Ashe-o. Prepping for and imminently departing for deep strike at large target which seems to be the heart of enemy forces. Requesting short-term air support to assist with clearing immediate battle zones near the city.”

Correct protocol in her own world, at least, expected of something of her model line: short, to the point, and stating no more than what was the objective and what was needed. There were a few murmurings of agreement, from a few incredulous souls who had seemed to have heard her name and were willing to lend whatever assistance they could. And one more clear-cut communication.

”This seems like a dangerous mission,” the pilot in question spoke. ”You sure about this?”

“Chances of death are nearly guaranteed,” Ashe said flatly. “Other objectives in mind besides victory.”

”....can’t argue with that...you seem determined,” they grimly replied. ”Alright, then. Fox McCloud here, at your service. I can swing by and provide some covering fire and support until you clear the city, but then you’re on your own. Can’t afford to leave the immediate warzone for too long!”

“Affirmative. That will be sufficient,” the war golem answered.

”Best of luck out there, with whatever your plan is!” Fox responded smartly. ”See you in the skies. Over and out!”

With a faint hiss of static, Ashe’s comms were deactivated again. “That should be sufficient. We can begin now.”

“Absolutely wonderful...” Starscream sighed heavily. “Let’s get this over with.” And with the sound of shifting metal and whirring mechanical wonders he transitioned into his flight mode.

“Affirmative. When you take off, I will grasp hold,” Ashe noted, watching as Zedd sprang up with heavy, lurching movements to place himself in the cockpit of the seeker’s jet form. Much to his dismay and disgruntlement, it seemed.

“I will follow externally,” Baymax droned.

”Excellent,” Starscream hissed, his displeasure almost a palpable thing.

 

[Roy Mustang]

Mustang stared at the map with growing agitation, cross referencing the official reports with the information on Ohm’s network of volunteer workers. The line was holding, but it was growing thinner and more over stretched with every passing moment. Their sacrifices had kept the barrier intact, but artillery fire from the rear of the Zoid forces had managed to tax it heavily; the readings placed it just above half strength at this point. For their efforts they had reduced the enemy’s effective numbers by about a third. It was a significant accomplishment given the size of the attacking force, but it wouldn’t be enough to force the enemy back. They were of the Unmaking. Attrition worked to achieve their ends nearly as well as outright conquest.

There was a buzzing behind him as Ohm Zui zipped past to confer with a technician about opening a controlled hole in the barrier. It would hopefully create a new choke point if the outer defenses crumbled, where they could focus their smaller forces and hopefully delay the advance enough to evacuate the town. It would be a last stand, there wouldn’t be any hope to break the assault if they retreated into the barrier, and the zoids might just ignore it and throw themselves at the energy field en masse. Governmorne had been forced to evacuate in a matter of hours as their world fell about their ears, Cevanti would be better prepared for their fate at the least.

He gave a frustrated sigh, rubbing his face as he stared at the one marker on the map that was a large enough component to warrant a distinguishable semblance. The doomsday mech, the men were calling it. It hadn’t directly engaged their forces throughout the entirety of the siege, just lazily bombarded their fortifications and strong points while it surveyed the battlefield. A tyrant reveling in the carnage it had constructed. Several of his impromptu recruits were moving through the warzone towards it now, and though it likely was a suicide mission, Mustang couldn’t bring himself to try to recall them. If there was any sort of desperate hope to snatch a victory for the day, it would have to be through that. Through what was, by now all but confirmed, the very arbiter of their world.

The idea that the guardian force of their world was seeking to destroy them was something he wasn’t entirely sure how to handle, but with the knowledge he had managed to gleam from the cultists’ ramblings and Ohm Zui’s description of the fall of Governmorne there was now little denying it. The connection between Governmorne and their own predicament had been sequestered to those present in the room, Second Lieutenant Hawkeye had quickly moved to keep the rumor from spreading, and with good reason. Those in the room were to be commended for their resolve to keep working in the face of almost certain destruction, but the somber air of people who have accepted their own deaths was a palpable weight on the efforts of the room.

Markov had already accepted defeat. The realization pierced him like a cold iron spike. There was no doubt that King Dulamare had been able to ascertain the identity of their foe, he had decided to stalemate the enemy in the hopes that outside help would come to save them. Suddenly the tactics made sense, this was all a bid for time. And their time had just about run out.

There was nothing else for it then. It would only go one way or the other.

“I’ve always considered myself a poor defensive tactician.” Mustang spoke to the open air. A few of those nearby looked up with confusion, Ohm pivoted in the air, watching Mustang through their oversized goggles. A frown started to form on Hawkeye’s face, had she already guessed what he was planning? Before she could interject, he continued.

“Second lieutenant, get the fastest vehicle we have to Central Headquarters. Rocket will be able to fly it.”

“… Sir.” She responded with the slightest hesitation. Mustang turned to Ohm Zui and typed a few commands into the communicator they had given him.

“I’m putting you in contact with Colonel Herich, he’ll be the one to speak to about our defense plan in the event that our forces have to pull back to the barrier. I’ll be counting on you to give our people as much time as possible to get out of Markov. The people make the city, and in this case, the planet.”

The zoombini’s expression was inscrutable as ever. They nodded, already checking the line of communication as he turned to leave.

“Your phrasing implies that you will not be an available point of contact for the defense coordination going forward. What are you trying, major?” Ohm asked quickly, eyes flickering over screens as they coordinated figures and reports.

“Playing to my strengths.” He replied, as though that was all the answer that was needed.

---​

The bullet fighter screeched to a halt outside of Central Headquarters, decelerating almost as sharply as it had picked up speed leaving the base. They were near useless in a dogfight due to their lack of maneuverability, but damn, in the right hands those things could pick up some speed. Mustang stepped out, book under one arm, nodding a farewell to Rocket as he did so.

"You’re an idiot, just so you know!” the rodent called after him. Mustang only waved his hand, already ascending the steps of the Central headquarters.

It had been some time since he had last been in Central command. There had been some minor incidents shortly after his promotion. He had been considered too young by some, too dangerous by others. They wouldn’t say it outright, but the climate in the halls during the weeks before his transfer had been unmistakable enough. He didn’t have time for the politics of Markov’s military command, however. This was about whether there would even be a Markov tomorrow.

He remembered the layout of the building well enough and turned the corner to the planning room at a brisk pace. Here would be his first obstacle. The door guard noted his approach with minor surprise, then the two corporals moved to intercept him. They were young, and clearly knew enough about the situation to be scared right now. Easy.

“Stop, Sir! You can’t enter the war room right now, King Dulamare is in conf-“

“Do I look like I don’t know that, Corporal?” Mustang barked, purpose twisting his voice into a blade of conviction.

“Well, no sir, but all the same We can’t just…”

“You can’t really stop me either.” Mustang interjected flatly. The poor young man’s face paled at the threat.

“There’s going to be one main outcome of our exchange, which is me entering that doorway. There are a few details that are up for debate still. How long it will take me to get there, and what shape your career is likely to be in when I do. I don’t like to control people’s lives, but there are countless others out there fighting and dying right now. I don’t have to time to do this nicely, so I’ll give you one chance to make this easier on the both of us.”

The pair of guards exchanged glances, withering under Mustang’s deadlock eye contact. Finally yielding to his sheer presence of purpose. The guards slunk back to their posts and Mustang swept into the war room pushing both doors open with a snap and a bang.

A room full of Markov’s top general looked up from a holomap. Mustang ignored them, gaze already settling on King Dulamare. The old king had been the head of Markov for all of mustang’s life, and many years before that. Now he watched it teeter on the brink of utter ruin. He looked tired. It wasn’t a weakness of the body, nor a frailty of wit or mind. He was directing the overall strategy; it was clear from the way his gaze snapped briefly towards Mustang’s arrival then had immediately shifted back to map. But there was something… lacking from the man who held Markov unified. He was no longer aiming for victory.

It was Aaria T’Loak who was the first to address Mustang’s arrival. The Asari gave a short laugh, then crossed her arms.

“This will be worth the interruption.” She spoke. It was a statement of expectation, not a question.

Brigadier General Carillus spoke up, clearly shifting mental tracks in a way he wasn’t expecting. “This is Major Mustang, for anyone who hasn’t run into him yet.” The turian turned in Mustang’s direction, his last few words dropping into a sound more evocative of a warning hiss than anything else. “Something of an over-achiever.”

“I have a suggestion and a request, Sir.” Mustang saluted, undeterred by Carillus’s remarks.

“Markov’s current plan is to delay the Zoid forces for as long as possible, in the hopes that allied forces from other worlds will arrive to alleviate our plight, or to provide us with the time to complete as much of an evacuation is possible on this timetable.” He stated, gaze still firmly fixed on Dulamare. The ancient king of Palatinu was still pondering the map, but there was a tell-tale flicker in his eye that left Mustang confident he was listening.

“This strategy is in error. Our enemy is corrupted by the Unmaking and is indeed quite willing to engage us in a prolonged battle. The weight of attrition works almost entirely in their favor, and though we may succeed in slowing the Unmaking of Cevanti, to our opponent, the lives of a few thousand Markovians will not tip the scales of their success in this assault.”

“How have you come by your information on the Unmaking, Major.” Came a melodic voice from the edge of the room. The elusive Golden Dragon, Palaxia, stepped forward, walking up to Mustang with an appraising glance. Mustang held up the book Hawkeye had gathered from the unmaking cultists, which Palaxia accepted with a keen interest, briefly examining it before opening the tome and beginning to read sections of it at an inhuman pace. Mustang dropped into parade rest, forcing aside any doubts about the audacity of his current actions.

“In addition to the details I have been able to decipher from this text, I have been able to corroborate our experiences with a refugee from Governmorne. I have little doubt remaining that our own Arbiter has been heavily influenced by Darkseid’s unmaking, if not wholly corrupted by it.”

“That’s all well and good, Major.” Aria stated with a smile that did not reach her eyes, “But you haven’t made your suggestion nor your request, yet you continue to be an interruption.”

Mustang nodded, now addressing the room at large.

“Markov has never been forced to defend its life before. We’ve had Zoid raids and skirmishes with Akata, but nothing on a scale that can threaten the security of our city in this way. Living on a planet with only one city tends to make one rather confident in their ability to retreat to safety. You grow accustomed to the belief that you will always have the upper hand if you coordinate your forces well enough.” He placed his hands behind his back, gaze shifting in turn to those who had started to listen.

“The problem with having more resources than any foe you fight is that time is perpetually on your side. When I fought insurgents in the eastern districts, it was always to our advantage to draw out the conflict, sap their strength and force them to surrender without ever having to risk a full clash of fronts.”

“In a pitched firefight, you cannot rely on the vastness of your forces, on your network of resources or your tactical coordination. When armies meet in earnest, chaos will abound. The lucky serpent can score a hit on the mightiest of eagles. I’ve been the eagle enough times to see it happen.”

Dulamare was now watching him. The man had yet to speak since Mustang’s arrival, but he was clearly weighing the merit of Mustang’s words.

“Right now, we are fighting like we have the advantage in time, in the faint hope that we prove to be correct. If help is coming, they’ve given no sign to those fighting and dying on the front. Morale is running low, and the front is moments from breaking. When it does, I would propose that all our forces not vital to shielding the evacuation effort be assembled for a final push towards the enemy Arbiter.”

Now that had gotten their full attention. Several of the generals opened their mouths to protest, but Mustang noted with some interest that Aria’s face had the hint of a smile. He pushed on to drown out their objections.

“It will be disastrous for our side and theirs, a clash that will lead to substantial casualties, without any guarantees of success. However, in this instance we are the desperate ones. We can draw out our defeat and minimize the severity of our loss, or we can muster what strength we have left for a last swipe at victory. It may well end in the utter destruction of our remaining military strength. Yet there is also the possibility that we can succeed in defending our homes and preventing the Unmaking from claiming a second planet.”

It was Palaxia who spoke next, glancing up from the cultists journal towards him. “That was your suggestion then, Major. May I ask what you are requesting?”

“I am requesting to be placed in command of that attacking force, Sir.” Mustang responded without hesitation.

This sentence brought a moment of silence to the war room, the static humming of the holomap the only sound in the room before Aria laughed.

“Well, there have been worse wastes of time!” she spoke almost lightly, turning towards Dulamare. “I won’t be sending any of my gundams to assist with that little escapade, but I like it. We’re just cutting our loses right now, unless the ARC shows up real soon! I say throw the dice, Dulamare. You just might get doubles.”

King Dulamare cast an inquiring glance towards Palaxia, but the woman only shrugged, refocusing her attention on the book. He sighed, standing up straight from his position hunched over the holomap. He locked gaze with Mustang, then sniffed.

“Your proposal has merit, Major Mustang, enough so that I’ll ignore your somewhat lax regard for proper procedures. I will not give you personal command of the last spear thrust, but I will want you to assist Major General Ossin with leading what troops we can spare in a push towards the Arbiter’s mech.”

“At the very least, it should provide us some information as to the strength of the thing.” Palaxia nodded in agreement. She closed the book with a snap. “I shall be keeping this, Major. I’ll have a scribe send you a transcription of it as soon as possible.”

Mustang nodded “Of course.” He turned to King Dulamare, bowing at the waist with his hands at his sides. “Please forgive my brashness in proposing this idea, Your majesty. I feel time is of the essence in the matter.”

“On that we can agree.” Dulamare responded with weight, “Ossin, assemble all undeployed battalions from the Artillery division and every able-bodied regiment we can get from the Second Infantry. Be it victory or death, we shall be sure that the reverberations of our fury will be heard on every planet left in the Crossroads!”

Mustang is using one application of Focus to enhance his charismatic presence to influence the Markovian military defense tactics in a way that is pretty above his station.

 

[King Kong]

The warthog's mud terrain tires constantly buzz while they drove on the civilize paved roads. They just now entered the designated Pilots Union airfield of Markov. This airfield is vital for the kingdom's air force that ruled the skies before the unmaking took over. It was easy to grant access to the base thanks to official orders coming from a Major. The compound had high security to keep trespassers out involving high barb wire fencing, surveillance cameras, motion sensors, and armed military police patrolling the base.

Everywhere they go, the base is frequently in action by soldiers moving equipment around, towing services hauling damaged aircraft/mechs that made it back safely, and remaining pilots rushing to their designated birds. It was all familiar to Fox of how operations usually ran on a militaristic airfield. He was just concerned deep down to see if the arwing got finally repaired and ready for take-off. First, they must find the selected hangar number that its housed inside.

The warthog rumbles, passing others by making their way to the enormous airfield filled with wide runways. Many hangars settled on the runway, so it was going to take time to find their number. Most of them had the giant barn doors open, revealing if there was an aircraft present inside or not. The hangers housed aerial combat mechs that were impressive to witness. Teams selected to each hangar prepped the aircraft for take-off or resupplying the pilots with ammunition.

To Fox, the whole system was impressive in how the Pilots Union set up their military power. It was almost entirely similar to Corneria's, but the Cornerian Army didn't have a big battalion of mechs than the Pilots Union. Some military jets remain stopped on the runway roads while their engines heated up and hissed with energy. They waited for signals on their radios when the air traffic controller gave them directions for take-off. On the main runway, two fighter jets blasted off at incredible speeds and went airborne.

Their engines scream as the jets flew further away from the airfield. Fox and the driver found the assigned hanger where his arwing rested. The two enormous barn doors were open to reveal a team of engineers surrounding his bird. They enter the hangar bay on the warthog and parked twenty yards away from the group. It was the end of the line for Fox, hopping off the warthog before the driver leaves him, driving away.

He walks toward the scene, finally seeing his bird remain intact more than before when he crashed. The body rebuilt to its former self with the engineers' excellent skills, the wings remain unbent thanks to their useful tools, and the paint restored to its factory colors designed to fit the color scheme of Star Fox. He can also see that they even were nice enough to repaint the red-winged, four-legged fox symbol that represented team Star Fox. The team approach Fox, greeting his arrival to see their most sufficient work.

"Commander Fox, welcome to hangar 13. We successfully finished restoring your awring." The team leader greets the fighter pilot to their operation.

"Thanks, I was a little worried that she wouldn't be like her old self after the crash" Fox is relieved to hear the engineer's words.

"Well, there's going to be a catch. You see, some of her operations aren't quite fully repaired yet, but they are fully operational. Her speed won't be the same as it was before. The weapons system had to be factory reset so that your laser cannons will fully work. I can tell some stuff on this bird fully customed and highly advanced compared to our other fighters, but if we did fully restore like it was before you crashed, it would've taken weeks to get everything back to normal." The engineer explains the situation about the arwing.

"That's okay. I can make what is due. The minimal settings won't be a problem for me." Fox responds in confidence.

"Ah, good then, everything is cleaned up and ready for take-off."

The pilot nods in response to the engineer's words and proceeds toward the arwing. All the engineers gather their tools, pushing their toolboxes and rolling service carts out of the way. Fox unlatches the glass cockpit, opening it wide to be able to climb inside. He jumps off the ground and lands perfectly into the comfy leather seat. The glass cockpit closes onto Fox after he booted up the computer.

Welcome

System Check Processing

Internal Power Enabled – ENB

External Power Disabled – DIS

Primary Weapons Enabled – ENB

Secondary Weapons Primed – PRM

Life Support Enabled – ENB

G-Diffusion Shields Primed – PRM

Alpha Interface Enabled – ENB

Beta Interface Primed – PRM

Twin Laser Enabled – ENB

Starflight Mode Enabled – ENB

All Range Mode Primed – PRM

All Systems Go

Acknowledged…

Arwing Ready to Deploy

Good Luck!

His fingers flipped a couple of switches, igniting the engines to heat immensely before the G-Diffusion system became fully activated. Once his jets run hot, the arwing suddenly hovers off the ground. Air is being pushed all around the aircraft. If anyone stood close to the ship, their hair would get messy, or their hat would fly off just how much air pushed around the technologically advanced space fighter. Fox moves the arwing forward slowly to exit the hangar.

His HUD eyepiece lights up fully green, displaying vital information about the status of the aircraft. Not only it gives a closer look at the ship's log, a targeting reticle appears at the center of the eyepiece linking to the targeting system. He activates the arwing's communicator to synchronize with his headpiece and connect to the Pilot Union's channels.

"This is Star Fox one reporting, testing 1 2 3."

"This command tower, we can hear you loud and clear."

"Permission to take off on runway 139."

"Permission granted, Star Fox one you are clear for take-off."

"Copy."

The arwing hovers five feet off the ground over the designated runway. Fox activates full power on the engines, heating up more than before. The blue color belonging to the rear engines grows brighter than before. His engines hiss louder while hydrogen fule made the machine alive. Seeing the levels his engines met, it was time for initial take off.

Fox unleashes the ship from its halt, beginning to accelerate forward at incredible speed the arwing can produce. He shoots off the runway similarly to a bullet fired out of a gun. His ship soars higher in the sky, heading straight toward a specific part of the dome. Tower command sends signals to the dome defense control post to uncover a particular area to let the pilot out freely. The arwing continues to fly with immense speed toward the solid protective dome shield.

His trust still holds on to the Pilots Union, opening the dome for him. Before he reached the designated part, it opens enough to let one ship out. In a blink of an eye, the space fighter flies past the exposed dome, now entering hostile territory. After passing through, the protective dome closes instantly behind the space fighter. The chaotic, destructive warzone awaits Fox with swarms of zoids dominating the skies and others on the ground, destroying any living creature for the unmaking.

Before he jets off further into the battlefield, his comms buzzes off in his ear of someone requesting air support.

Afterward, Fox remains his focus on piloting the awring into dangerous combat. The space fighter remained in starflight mode for offensive maneuvers and remain engaging speeds. Aerial bird zoids detected a new enemy in their airspace, targeting the new fighter class ship. A squad departs from the rest and soar head-on toward Fox. They fire their primary weapons directly at the hostile involving laser beams.

"I'm not running away this time. I'm the one that's attacking!" Fox bravely announces, steering the centre stick and pulling the primary trigger, releasing a barrage of lasers.

He does hope that Ashe-0's plan could turn the tide in this desperate battle back in his mind. He is willing to stick his neck out if it involves saving the planet.

 

[Saryuu Evan]

Blade had been contacted with someone that she never heard of before but as they were assisting in terms of defending the city. Even from behind the mask, she can see the action of what is going on and a communication device will come in handy with her in general. However, watching the red dots on screen did help her track movements of the enemies in the environment and she would be best to take this carefully albeit seriously as well. Of course, she did rush off with the drone following after her to encounter another set of rogue machinery to take care of as she was doing earlier though for some reason, there seemed to be a scramble of movements with these particular invaders as the red dots were moving around in unusual ways.

This is strange.

‘It’s almost if they don’t know what they are doing.’ she thought to herself, only to investigate the abnormality for herself as something or someone had to happen to make the invaders move in such a manner.

As she investigated for herself, she had some time for her electricity to recover since the last fight before a brief charge of her electricity would jolt her ahead while she ran forth to see for the phenomenon as the district she was in is an industrial side compared to the earlier residential side that she was coming from since she did have to help people get away from the rabbid chaos in some format. The fact of reality was that she was vastly outnumbered and she would have to choose her fights carefully and while she can pick off several loners, a group is when things get challenging unless she thinks outside the box.

Back at the recent fight, she had to outwit the rogue Zoids just to get by but something was pulling them back to life, almost if they were possessed by some force. While they were damaged heavily, she is sure they came back because the mysterious force of darkness and that wasn’t any good at all.

A pain but she had to keep on and get rid of any doubt.

She was silent and to herself, precise and calm at the same time as she hardly spoke even as the drone followed after her to send back feeds of information to the other.

The chaos of explosions and other means from nearby in the city was commonplace as the once grand city of Markov was crumbling apart around her. She’s seen what horrors it brought when the invasion happened and thought if the same thing happened to Governmorne or for some horrible twist of fate, it was automatically corrupted and warped. It all seemed so sudden when all was calm but that’s what made it more dangerous.

The calm before the storm as they would say when things were about to go down through a maddening spiral after some time of peace and tranquility.

Just as she thought that, she came across several more ground-level Zoids and small akatas in her path though they seem to be shooting lasers around causing her to immediatedly take cover to prevent damage to the drone. She was determined to keep it in good condition and it wouldn’t be long before she spoke to the drone in her calm yet serious tone of voice while keeping herself and the drone safe as she was against the backwall of the alley corner.

“There has been some enemy movement but they seemed to be confused, a malfunction of sorts. It looks to be there has been a disruption in this sector because something or someone must have messed with their programming somehow even if they are still active.”

She can’t help but to wonder. If she did somehow disrupt the electrical flow, she would remember but oddly enough, she didn’t and in fact is curious about the root cause. Of course, this is a new mystery in itself and perhaps they’re an ally she can work with on this effort.

“Is there anything on your end, Ohm?”

 

[The Future Warrior]

The takeoff was less than smooth. It had involved Zedd fitting himself ‘elegantly’ into the cockpit, and then Starscream himself needing to make an awkward loop back over his original starting point for Ashe to make the leap up to grab hold of him. The added weight had very nearly brought them all plummeting straight back to the ground, and the sudden strain on the seeker’s flight systems was all too audible.

“By Primus, you she-behemoth!” he howled, struggling to so much as keep his altitude even. “I suggest you hold on very tightly. This will not be a smooth flight, despite my best efforts.” His statement was followed shortly by a dull thrumming noise and then a cascade of red sparks of energy over his entire frame.

The already high whine of his engines increased in intensity, and then slowly rose to a deafening roar as the seeker and his passengers shot forward with an explosive increase in speed. Baymax, unfortunately, was somewhat left behind at the unexpected acceleration, though was surprisingly quick to adapt and jet along after them.

“A surprising ability,” Ashe noted calmly, seeming utterly unperturbed by the sudden burst of speed.

“You should be thankful,” Starscream sniffed. “This utilizes a very precious resource, that is in very...short supply.”

“Then it is fitting we use it for such an endeavor!” Lord Zedd roared from within the cockpit.

“I will provide what defense and assistance I can. But this position does not afford me much opportunity.” Ashe simply shifted in place, adjusting her grip on the sleek frame of the seeker’s form. The sheer force of wind at this speed was more than enough to leave her vision clear, hair blown well back out of her face. “I am uncertain of how the recoil from my main weapon would interact with flight under these circumstances...and my systems are not calibrated for precise targeting at this speed.”

“Pah!” Starscream hissed dismissively. “Then we will have to rely on our little fleshling friends for the moment!”

“They will make for useful chaff to cover our passage, at the least,” Zedd rumbled in agreement.

The comms crackled to life, with the droning monotone of Baymax. “There are hostile entities approaching.”

Any further attempt at argument was cut off as all eyes and assorted sensors were directed forward. Sure enough, a number of aerial zoids had broken off from the rest of the conflict and were making a beeline for them.

The amazonian golem had scarcely even let go of her perch with one hand, leaving her precariously off-balance, to try and line up a shot, when a volley of laser fire cut through the incoming swarm. Two of the offending zoids were shot down, sent crashing down to the earth below in a smoking spiral. The remainder of the group broke apart to avoid being an easy target just as the blue and white form of Fox McCloud’s arwing shot through the space they have just occupied. The pilot flashed a thumbs-up for the brief fraction of a second he was visible before they rocketed past each other.

”Fox here.” the pilot chimed in over comms. ”Sorry about the delay, got caught up dealing with these buzzards soon as I cleared the barrier. Looks like I still got here in time, though!”

“Affirmative,” Ashe responded. “Your timely arrival and assistance are most appreciated.”

”Looks like more help is on the way, too.” Fox noted, as the trails of a handful more fighters thundered by across their flight path, assorted weapons tearing into the zoids as they tried to circle around again. “We’ll cover you as best we can, but I don’t think most of us can keep up with you at that speed.”[/i]

“Yes, terribly unfortunate, indeed,” Starscream muttered.

“Any assistance you can provide is invaluable.” The war golem slowly swung her free arm back up to grasp hold of the seeker’s frame again. “We need to keep as clear a path as can be managed.”

”I got you loud and clear!” Fox announced. ”Just keep on going, we’ll cover you.”

* * *

The flight across the battlefield was not entirely smooth. Even with the fire support they received until the city limits, the skies just grew more and more inhospitable and unfriendly the further away from the city they got. Further away from relative control and constant fighting, where there was only enemy presence in the skies.

Two of the pilots were shot down, the rest forced to retreat. Fox himself stuck by as long as he could, but was forced to pull back near the city limits with a quick apology as he returned to the main fight.

Ashe-0, Starscream, Lord Zedd and Baymax pushed onward. The three exposed to enemy fire were not left unscathed by the trip, suffering no small number of glancing hits from enemy fire and the countless explosions of worrying-close missile and rocket fire.

It was only by the grace of Starscream’s desperate attempts to maintain control at this speed and with such a payload, and no small measure of sheer, plain luck they survived such a desperately stupid plan.

Eventually, inevitably, blessedly, they finally broke through. Like bursting out of the water, or through a torrential waterfall, the seeker and his cargo--er, passengers, thundered out of a cloyingly thick cloud of smoke. Sparks flickered in numerous places from the countless hits and impacts, but the determination of the seeker had been surprising. As if he was going to let himself actually get shot down, or out performed by these things, even with such a glaring handicap!

All that bravado and determination immediately wavered and faltered as they burst through the smoky veil, and finally lay direct eyes on their target. The doomsday mech. The leader of this entire assault. The one who had been agonizingly, worryingly, terrifyingly complacent and idle aside from its infrequent shelling.

It was gargantuan, towering over any other model of gundam or similar mobile suit the city had deployed, nearly to the same scale that Ashe-0 stood over most average-sized humans, she realized.

“Aha! So there was actually a Zord here!” Lord Zedd bellowed, slamming both fists against the interior of the cockpit. “How fitting, for such a thing to be the leader of these mindless mechanical beasts!”

Starscream has, with Jade’s permission, used his “Red Energon” consumable item to assist with this incredibly dumb plan.

 

[The Future Warrior]

“I am unfamiliar with your combat capabilities. So I will not offer advisement on how to engage a target like this. Act as you see fit.” Ashe-0 stated, in virtual silence were it not for the comms clearly broadcasting to her allies of the moment. “I will be doing the same.”

With no further warning or ceremony, she released her grip on the seeker’s hull and let gravity take hold once again.

“Are you daft?!” Starscream shrieked, as the sudden lack of payload made him jerk sharply upward in the brief moments before he compensated for it.

The war golem plummeted downward, and forward. Directly toward the colossal doomsday mech below. She noted, as it drew steadily nearer, that it seemed entirely and utterly uninterested in them. Aware of them -- perfectly aware since long before they had even gotten within visual range, if she had to guess -- but utterly disinterested and disregarding them. The same way one might ignore a bundle of buzzing flies at the window.

It was an expected outcome, but no less infuriating. She twisted herself in the air, to properly orient and prepare as best she could, and slowly spun around to sail down toward the huge mech feet-first. She didn’t have time to prepare her main weapon systems properly, but she could at least let gravity lend its own considerable bulk to her first strike against this gargantuan behemoth.

She was dimly aware of Baymax closing in as well, and of Starscream making a wide arc at top speed to circle around for his own efforts. She ignored them all for the moment, focusing her gaze and calculations solely on the Fade. On her target. All four of her hands hands glowed bright blue, the charge of her weapon systems building up and readying to fire.

She dropped out of the air with all the force expected of a fourteen thousand pound war machine, all concentrated into two (comparatively) miniscule points. Her boots smashed into the head of the immense doomsday mech like the hammer of some war deity, producing a deafening CLANG of striking metal, accompanied by the sky turning completely white with a flash of lightning.

She sank down until her knees nearly touched the shining black armor of her foe, then reversed motion with a lurch. She launched herself back up, out and away. A crude, rough backflip and she threw all four arms out. One after another, cycling fire in a clockwise ring, she let loose with every last charge in her concealed weapons, focusing fire on the impact site of her missile-like dropkick as she fell freely toward the ground below.

The entire scene erupted in a brilliant conflagration of blunt-tinged vapor, smoke and light, shrouding the entire head of the Fade from sight. By the time the amazonian war machine had let off her last shot before needing to recharge, she was scant inches from the ground. Her landing produced a sound of a similar noise to her impact with her colossal foe, though far less intense and resounding.

Dust and rubble kicked up in a huge plume around her, as her vision was clouded from static and the damage of her own foolish stratagem. It took only seconds for it to clear, however, and as it did she re-focused her sight above. She zeroed in on the head of the doomsday mech, searching desperately for some sign of results of her surprise attack. Surely it had to have sustained heavy damage?

….but no. Goliath this foe may have been, but she was far from being David.

For all her efforts, the only sign of any damage was the smallest, barely noticeable pair of dents from her boots, and a few minor scorch marks from her laser onslaught. As if someone had accidentally dropped a heavy ball on a car, or messily wiped up spilled ashes from an overturned ash tray. It was hardly enough to even be called a scratch. It barely qualified as an insect bite.

If Ashe-0 had had actual blood, it would have turned to ice in her veins at the sight, and at the sight of it finally turning to look at her. Not simply a sweeping gaze, taking her in and moving past her to focus on its next target...but at her.

Directly at her.

She strained and scrambled to sit up, desperate to simply move and escape the direct attention of this thing. The same proxy of nausea from the message she received on Erde Nona. The same overwhelming wave of crippling pain and confusion as something entirely alien bore down on her with tremendous force. The same inescapable certainty she was staring down something many, many times greater than her.

But it was not the same comforting, reassuring and pleading presence she had felt before. This one...was cold. Icy cold, as the void of space. Bitter, malignant, suffocating even without breath to draw. Bearing down with all the indifferent and omnidirectional malice of a calculating machine, driven solely with an objective to kill.

Even without doing anything, without so much as twitching one of its weapons, the Fade had seemingly soundly defeated Ashe-0. She lay there, half-stuck between lying prone and trying to rise, her cyclopean gaze locked on the glowing crimson eyes of the towering mech’s face. She dared not so much as twitch, lest she draw more than simply its attention.

Lightning flashed overhead again, and in the haze of all-encompassing white, there was a dull gleam around the colossal mech. Some shimmering field, normally all-but invisible to casual observation. A barrier? It had all but completely absorbed her desperate surprise attack, but something of her efforts had gotten through.

This thing….was leagues above her level. If she had been at 100% optimal performance, with all systems online...then maybe. Maybe...but now, as she was…
FWOOO--KA-THOOMM!

A sharp hissing of disturbed air sounded, and the tell-tale whine of an incoming missile announced itself an instant before impact. The fireball of its explosion as it struck the Fade directly in its face provided the single instant of distraction Ashe needed.

With its gaze broken, her focus repaired itself enough to move. She shakily rolled over, and rose to her knees. A deep thunk echoed in front of her, and she looked up to find the large, racing-red armored form of Baymax standing before her. “Hello. I am sorry for my delay. Do you require assistance?”

“...yes,” the war machine muttered softly, and accepted an outstretched hand as the healthcare bot assisted in hauling her upright again. It took him lifting into the air to do so, but he didn’t seem to mind. “It has strong defenses, but not entirely impenetrable. I am still uncertain...whether a single, powerful impact or repeated lesser strikes focused in a single area are better.”

“Then we shall have to experiment,” Baymax monotoned, hefting his hands up as they curled into fists.

A shadow flashed by overhead, and moments later the ground quaked nearby as Lord Zedd dropped to the earth in a manner that was sure to be awe-inspiring, had there been anyone at all at hand to inspire awe in. “Experimentation,” he scoffed. “This is not the time for that. This is the time to bring this humongous hunk of garbage down.” He lifted one clenched fist, shaking it for emphasis. “Whether destroyed, or brought to heel, I care not. But it will fall!”

”Your theatrics are not necessary!” Starscream’s voice hissed over the comms. ”I will remain in the air, to capitalize on the effects of my...maneuverability. But my supply of missiles are limited. So make use of them when they strike!”

Ashe-0 turned her focus back to the mech as the smoke of missile blast cleared fully. “Affirmative…” she all but whispered.

All three ground-bound combatants instinctively bolted in different directions when one of the weapons of the doomsday mech swiveled around to aim directly at them. It fired, and the ground was reduced to a smoking crater, just as the air was reduced to a red-tinged haze of nightmare and agony.

 

[The Future Warrior]

The crater where the three combatants had once stood was huge, and nearly as deep as it was wide. Smoke rose from it in several dense streams, and the crackle of shifting and sliding rubble from its edges was the only noise at the scene save for the distant din of the ongoing siege.

Far overhead now, Starscream made a much slower pass. “Good sweet sparks….don’t tell me that you’re all done for already?” he all but whispered. “After just one strike…”

A movement among the smoking crater drew the seeker’s attention, and the bright red form of Baymax slowly tore itself free of a mound of rubble. Heavily scorched, burned and marred, but otherwise seeming intact against all odds. “We are heavily outmatched in terms of firepower,” he noted in his monotone way, spinning once in place to dislodge the coating of grit he now sported.

At the opposite side of the crater, a mound of disturbed earth shifted and rumbled for a moment before positively exploding outward in all directions. A wordless shout of unbridled rage erupted as the mangled form of Lord Zedd ripped himself free from the muddy grave he had been unceremoniously thrust into. “You dare bury Lord Zedd in such a manner?!” he bellowed at the gargantuan mech, with such thunder and fury in his words that the Fade actually spared him the briefest of sidelong glances.

Ashe-0’s return to action was somewhat slower, and involved her quite literally crawling out from under a mound of rubble and slowly getting back to her feet. “This assessment...has already begun to produce results…” Even as she forced her battered and damaged frame upright again, Ashe was quickly collating all of the information she had managed to piece together from this brief confrontation. The sheer size of this goliath, its defenses, the unprecedented weight of its mere presence, the magnitude of its close-ranged firepower.

She still needed more, though. More tactics, more strategy, more results, more information. She needed to distract this thing, and learn anything and everything she could while doing it. Even the smallest speck of knowledge might be the one that could turn the tide.

She turned round to face the Fade again. “We should launch a coordinated attack. From separate locations, to split its focus, so that it cannot catch all of us with its primary weapon.” Or, at least, what she hoped was its primary weapon. So far it had done nothing but almost lazily use that huge artillery piece; whatever other weapons it might have had were still a mystery.

”Ah, now you speak of working together,” Starscream almost laughed. ”Did you not moments ago say you would not advise us in any such manner?”

“I am not advising you on your tactics or methods. Merely on a course to utilize them.” The battered bruiser wasted no more words while standing idle and broke into movement. “Shall I change that decision? I am capable of rudimentary tactical decisions in a scale this immediate.”

”Bah! Do as you wish!” the seeker screeched, as he thundered by overhead, the red light of his energon-boosted speed casting him in a bloody haze.

“....very well.” She did not slow down from her pace, even as she closed in on the Fade and rammed with all her might into one of its legs, shoulder first. She was met with a flash of deep red light, and the feeling of a toddler running into an iron wall. She slid and rolled along it in an almost comical fashion. “It is sturdy…”

She tumbled away, dropping clumsily into a roll to avoid landing flat. “Starscream. Baymax. You are capable of flight; engage it from the air. Keep it distracted and focused on you; Zedd and I will find a suitable means to attack it from the ground.”

“I will do what I can,” Baymax’s voice answered, as his rotund form lurched into the air with surprising force.

”Yes, yes, truly spectacular decision-making!” The rolling of Starscream’s optics was apparent, even at such a distance and with his transformed state. ”but very well; I will keep this nuisance occupied.”

The only dissenter was Lord Zedd. “I have no intention of following orders or directives from you, machine,” he snarled. “I agreed to assist you, but not to follow you. I will fight this monstrosity in my own manner, and none else!” He raised a fist in challenge, taking half a pace toward the she-behemoth.

“Understood.” The response was such a passive, unmoving one that the lack of resistance visibly caused Zedd to stumble.

“W-What?!” he demanded.

“I am not giving orders. Merely suggesting the optimal course of action.” She rose up again, shaking herself back to full action. “We are limited by our size and the strength of our foe. Attacking it in any meaningful way will not be easy. You are free to search and find an effective manner of attack in whatever way you deem appropriate. I shall do the same.”

“....hmph. So be it, then. I will find a way to topple this titan myself!” the lost conqueror barked, before turning on his heel and lumbering away into the haze of the fray.


* * *

The whine and roar of Starscream’s engines continued unabated as he swerved and circled around for another pass at the Fade. He was loath to admit it, but maintaining flight for so long (and especially at such high speeds!) was absolutely, positively exhausting. He couldn’t even begin to guess at how much longer he could hold up, but with any luck it would be at least a few seconds longer than he actually needed to.

“Keep this monolithic menace focused on us, indeed...” he seethed quietly to himself. “Who does this infuriating cretin think she is? I am Starscream! I am not a decoy!” He positively trembled with suppressed indignation, but held his composure. For now. If it was a distraction she wanted, then that was precisely what she could get. Somewhere within his transformed state, a smile curled across his face.

And it would be a glorious distraction, indeed…


* * *

Far less nimble and agile in his maneuvers, Baymax was doing his part. He had blasted off the ground and taken to the air, his racing red body arcing up and toward the head of the doomsday machine. “Hello. I am Baymax,” he droned as he rocketed past its head and over one shoulder. He tiled to one side, turning in a wide arc as he curved around and passed over its opposite shoulder. “I am here to put a stop to your assault on Markov.”

He blazed a trail out in front of the huge mech’s body, turning around so that he angled himself to fly backward. Both arms lifted up, fists outstretched toward the face of the huge death machine….and then fired. Clenched fists rocketed forth with all the force the healthcare robot could put behind them, one aimed at each eye.

A near simultaneous CLANG-CRUNCH sounded as they both hit, rebounding away in a comedic fashion.This served to draw the attention of the Fade, its face turning ever so slightly toward the bright red pest before its eyes. While its crushing presence barely seemed to faze the bot, he did make one observation: “Initial attack unsuccessful. Preparing additional options.”


* * *

“I have devised a plan!” Zedd announced, after what felt like several fruitless minutes of effort at assaulting their foe from the ground. “You will have the privilege of throwing me up to a more favorable height for attacking this beast.”

Ashe came to a sudden stop, turning to quizzically peer at the lost tyrant. “....are you certain that is wise?” she finally spoke in response.

“Wise? Of course not!” Zedd swept an arm through the air. “But it is too well-defended and armored at ground level, and its shielding prevents easy grasp to attempt climbing. A more immediate ascent is needed!” He clenched his outstretched hand. “Now, as I ordered: throw me!” he bellowed.

“As you wish.” The amazonian war machine didn’t bother to aggravate the already enraged warlord any further. She simply strode across the distance between them in four quick strides, and bent down to grab him in one hand. She rose up, turning in place as she did to gain some small amount of momentum, and hurled the monstrosity of flesh and steel that called itself the emperor of all he saw.

Like a gruesome projectile, the deposed and confused conqueror roared through the air. His mad laughter was loud and boisterous enough it could be heard even over the rushing wind about him, and the deep reverberating CLANGRASH as he struck the Fade dead-center in its chest seemed to echo for miles.

His gory mitts grappled with the shielded hull of the doomsday mech, seeking purchase anywhere he could, and finally found it after falling several feet. He cackled with mad glee, holding on with a vice-tight grip from one hand while his other drew back in near slow motion as it clenched into a steel-hard fist.

The blows he struck were better than any warhammer. Better than nearly any firearm. Nearly as good as a missile. He punched. And he punched.And he punched. Strike after strike, and blow after blow, his deranged and overly-enthusiastic laughing cackles echoing over the clanging and shrieking impacts of his fist. The damage being done was miniscule, but every impact brought a momentary bright flash from the shields of the huge mech.

Just as this thing was slowly whittling away at Markov’s barriers…

A flash of understanding lit in Ashe-0’s eyes, as she immediately lurched into motion. They had a chance…!”


* * *

“Bear witness, you overgrown refuse pile!” From out of the air, Starscream dove straight down at the colossal doomsday machine. His engines were on full burn, and he was pointed straight down, building up all the momentum he could. When he was barely a dozen meters away, he spun into a quick roll in his flight and swiftly transformed into his more humanoid appearance in a flash of red electricity.

The clawed talons of both hands lashed out, gouging and striking at the Fade’s huge wings as the seeker blurred past them. Another flash of red light, and his form was once more a jet, curving into a straining maneuver that left him only a perilous few feet from impact with the ground as he thundered away again.

A blur of motion, he shot out and pulled into a gravity-defying spinning U-turn, sending himself flying right back at their collective target. A pair of missiles launched out, their explosive payloads striking in the mech’s left shoulder with a pair of resounding blasts. A deft twist and tilt, and the seeker breezed through the space between the Fade’s body and arm at mach 1, the sonic boom blowing the smoke and missile-ash away completely even as he lurched back into humanoid form and lashed out with a clawed hand at its winds again.

Talons scraped and sheared through metal with a shower of sparks and the ear-splitting whine of shredding metal, and he used the final moments of impact to swing himself around and launch himself across the back of the towering behemoth. For his hard work, he had ripped one of the ‘feathers’ of the Fade nearly in two. Superficial damage, in all likelihood, but he would count it as a victory!

He crashed into the opposite wing, and swept his taloned limbs up in a vicious X-chop before him, gouging and shearing several chunks from two more of the gargantuan ‘feathers’ as he passed through them before resuming his jet form once more and thundering off into the near distance again.

“I am Starscream!”

In this specific scene, Starscream has (once more, with Jade’s permission) used an application of Focus to dramatically bolster his agility, maneuverability and transformation speed to deftly assault and harass the Fade.

* * *

Baymax, having retrieved his rocket fists, went once more in a circle around the gargantuan foe. He was somewhat surprised as the artillery cannon of the Fade wavered slightly, starting to shift back toward the city before stopping. It was a curious sight, but he was not one to appreciate what such a thing could mean.

Instead, he simply opted to continue his assistance.

Assistance in this case coming in the form of a huge, red-armored healthcare robot crashing into the chest of the doomsday mech alongside Zedd, matching his impact with the conqueror’s own pummeling. There was a sharp CRACK, and a clear crack appeared in the glowing red emblem on the Fade’s chest.


* * *

The combined efforts of the assault had done nothing more than cause the equivalent of stings and miniscule scrapes. An annoyance, and they were beginning to tax the Fade’s shielding...but they stood no chance of actually defeating it.

Their efforts were, however, supremely distracting and interfering with proper targeting of the city of Markov.

Finally, the doomsday mech moved. More than just turning its head, or aiming its cannon, it actually moved.

With all the speed of an inching glacier, but with all the implacability of one as well, it moved.

It shifted its stance, legs drawing up into a more upright stance as the artillery cannon at its shoulder slowly craned up and back out of sight. The red light in its eyes blazed to a new intensity, and a single message erupted out of the colossal machine, like a wave of physical force striking all four combatants desperately struggling against it and numbing them to the very core of their being.

Your End is here.


* * *

“Detecting greatly elevated threat levels,” Baymax announced, with some hint of urgency to his message.

“It has completely broken off its attack on the city…” Ashe-0 whispered. “...success.”

”Yes, yes, wonderful! Our merry little suicide squad has successfully focused the wrath of a nigh-indestructible titan directly on itself!” Starscream screeched, panic welling up his his every word. ”Are you proud of us?!”

“The fact it has focused directly upon us only means we are an actual threat!” Zedd’s voice wavered only slightly, but his boisterous confidence and unyielding rage seemed to serve him well in holding himself together.

“No...we aren’t any real threat. We are simply a nuisance interfering with its activities.” It was a painful truth to admit, but one that Ashe-0 spoke plainly for the others to hear. The lack of any disagreement spoke far more than any hours-long rant to the contrary could ever have.

A flash of red light and the sound of shuddering steel preceded the form of Lord Zedd rocketing through the air and hitting the ground, hard enough to tear a dozen-foot long furrow in it with his body. His entire front was scorched and bloodied, from some kind of attack. “You...dare…!” He didn’t seem fazed, though his attempts to rise again were somewhat slower than before.

Several similar flashes of red light lit up the air around the Fade, like a massive swarm of bloody fireflies, before dozens -- no, hundreds of lasers erupted in an omnidirectional storm. While no combatant was struck more than a handful of times, they were all struck with devastating force.

The airborne ones were knocked clean out of the air. Baymax tumbled and rolled along thanks to his more or less round body, but managed to end up thankfully undamaged by his rough landing and slowly regained his feet. Starscream was not so lucky and only barely managed to return to human shape and end up with a crazed ass-over-elbows tumble instead of a direct crash; he was battered, and he was quite sure something had broken just due to his momentum, but he could still rise and was in one piece, at least for now.

Zedd was driven back into the ground, the metal on his body glowing red-hot from the laser impacts and his exposed flesh now scorched black and heavily blistered. He shook with no longer suppressed rage as he heaved deep breaths, struggling to rise again in spite of his damaged state. Pain seemed to have no grasp on him, from the way he moved. But whether he felt it or not, he was still rapidly accruing damage and injury.

Ashe-0, this time, remained down. Laying where she had fallen, with huge sections of her synthetic skin blistered and burned completely away by the laser strikes. Her single, cyclopean eye was glassy and dead, devoid of the blue color normally heralding activity.

“Pfah...has our fearless leader fallen already?” Starscream snapped, hauling himself back up on unsteady legs. “How dreadful…” he mock-swooned, the back of one hand delicately brushing at his optics.

“Regardless of their size or origin, machines are destined to break in the end,” Lord Zedd growled as he regained his footing.

“Ashe-0 is not deactivated or offline.” Baymax jumped up into the air with a brief flight. “I am detecting an abnormally large amount of energy building up.”

“It...is time…” At Baymax’s statement, the fallen form of the amazonian behemoth spoke up. “My final option. I have sent what data I could manage to gather here back to the city’s defenders.” Slowly, she hauled herself upright. “Now it is time to stall and damage this entity for as long as we can.”

She lifted her head. Her eye was cracked, nearly shattered in fact, but it shone with a renewed intensity of bright blue, nearly white light. “I require...one minute to prepare and reach a suitable position for detonation.”

Without missing a beat, Lord Zedd scoffed. “Only a single minute? You shall have it, then!” he roared, and immediately turned to lumber into motion back toward the Fade. “You! Red machine! Assist me!” he ordered.

“I am Baymax,” the healthcare robot monotoned, but obliged to the demanding tyrant and took flight to get the monstrosity of a conqueror airborne.

“Detonation, you said…” Starscream’s optics narrowed, fixing Ashe with a keen stare. “....hmmm. So that is why you said there was no chance for survival.” He rolled his eyes. “Oh, I do hate you self-sacrificing types…” he muttered. Turning away, he took several quick steps before leaping into the air and quickly shifting into his jet form before launching into the skies again.


* * *

”This message is for Major Roy Mustang….or anyone from Markov who receives it.”

She quickly finalized her collation of data, and started the transmission.

”This….is Ashe-0. I have collected some small amount of data on the capabilities of the entity I believe responsible for this attack.”

Ashe knelt down, curling all four hands into fists and resting them gently on the ground, knuckles first. The energy in her systems continued to build up, steam beginning to hiss and whine from the countless breaches in her battered body.

”I cannot estimate its accuracy. Nor can I say with any certainty it is all correct, but I am certain it will be of use. You will not be caught as wholly unprepared as we were in our brief engagement with it.”

She lifted her head to look up at the Fade as the other three did their best. The remainder of Starscream’s missiles and his astounding speed, the brute strength and unflinching ego of Lord Zedd, the methodical composure and analytical assistance of Baymax. An uncoordinated frenzy, but it was stealing the Fade’s focus for the moment.

”Put it to good use. I hope the minor damage we have managed to do here will assist your own efforts in bringing it down.”

And just like that, she bolted into action. A blurred streak of blazing, bright blue-white light. Her boots left sizzling, sparking prints in the ground with every step as she thundered across the cratered terrain, and launched herself into a flying leap with all the strength she had.

Something shattered in her legs from the strain of her vastly increased performance, one limb bursting asunder to leave a rain of steaming fluid and nanite ‘blood’ to spatter down, along with a large stream of busted mechanical components.

”I apologize there was not more I could do to assist in this battle. I awoke on this world, and was asked to assist by….a friend. But I am too damaged to contribute in any other meaningful way.”

She soared up, and landed in a heap on the jutting protrusion of the doomsday mech’s chest. All four arms scrabbled crazily to find purchase, just for a moment, before crackling lines of energy erupted from several tears in one arm to virtually weld herself to the far larger mech.

Her eye, blazing with the massive power threatening to burst loose, locked with the gaze of you the Fade.

The End is here. The thought again weighed down on her, crushing and threatening to destroy her will to finish this final action…

...but it didn’t.

“The End...of this siege,” she said softly.

”Ashe-0….signing off.”

Everything went white.

Ashe-0 has used an application of focus to bolster her physical performance to reach a suitable detonation point.

She used a second application of focus to jury-rig her Highvolt system to spot-weld herself to that suitable point long enough to set off the blast.

* * *

Distantly, at the forward command post in Markov, a soldier stopped in the bustle of activity. He felt something….off, as he turned toward the distant battle. “Huh…” He lifted a hand to shade his eyes, staring intently out...and then saw it. The flash of white, and the huge mushroom-like cloud in the far distance, well beyond the hordes at the city limits.

“…she really went and did it...Arbiterspeed.”

......Ashe-0 has used her “Final Option” consumable in an attempt to damage the Fade.

Ashe-0 is dead. She has sent a transmission to Markov's forces relaying what she has learned about the Fade, and a warning about the radiation and fallout from her self-destruction.

This was a blast (hur hur hur), y’all. Here’s to hoping the outcome of this thing is favorable!

 

[Roy Mustang]

The morning light had risen upon a desperate, scrambling defense. Markov had not been prepared for an assault of this strength. The setting sun found instead a haggard, belabored force. The crumbling remnants of Markov's defenses refused to surrender the field, fighting on in spite of the increasingly bleak odds.

Private Kerric was curled up behind the shredded tatters of a support pillar. The mechanical crunching of zoids sounded from the street outside the parking garage what was left of his squadron had taken shelter in. They were pinned, but they might be able to take down a few of the bastards in the offing if they could draw the smaller zoids in here.

Tired fingers fumbled open the locket he kept around his neck, pictures of Elisha and their little Davis. He fervently hoped Cytokine would have them evacuated by now. Surely Elisha had gotten them both to safety? There was a quick bark from his sergeant, a call of warning. He kissed the locket, then stowed it away. gripping his pulse rifle, as he made ready. He would have to make sure he lived to see them.

The heavy weapons opened, a trio of rockets that managed to cripple a tiger zoid out in the street. The zoids retaliated with their characteristic metal howling, missiles thudding into the building around them, as several akata and some smaller raptor-like zoids stormed their position. Private Kerric stepped out of cover with a yell, pulse rifle ripping through the ever-silent akata, scoring large tears at this short of a distance. akata fell, but the zoids pushed through their assault. Already bloodied raptor claws gleamed in the light of muzzle flashes, and Private Kerric grit his teeth, preparing for death.

"Coming through!"

A magical missile smashed into the raptor zoid from behind, sending it sprawling. It rebounded with an indignant screech only to be bowled over by the fender of Lee's Van. The Guild band sped through the bottom floor of the parking garage following the illusory arrow's path up the parking garage's sharply turning ramp. Lee spun the wheel with frantic energy, hardly braking. The edge of the van was showering sparks as it scraped along the guardrail.

"Step on it, Lee! The CBA's tracking that damn eagle zoid, and it'll be swooping right past here any second!" Beezlebub shouted, "Exodus's marked that one worth extra!"

"Shut up! I know!" Lee hollered, wrenching the steering wheel around as they ascended floor after floor.

The open air of the top floor spread wide in front of them as they sped out of the spiral and across the rooftop. The Eagle zoid was in hot pursuit of a pair of star fighters, weaving through the abandoned buildings at high speeds.

"Let 'em have it!" Lee shouted, swerving the van broadside as Giorno, Beezlebub, Simone and Filigree brought their weapons to bear. A high octane barrage of arcane bullets caught the eagle zoid completely off guard. It spiraled away, colliding with a nearby skyscraper as it fell. Their celebration was short lived as a pair of zoid missiles slammed into the rooftop near the vehicle.

"Shit!" Lee hissed, "This is why we don't fuckin' stop rolling, Bee!" She slammed down the gas pedal. The van lurched back into motion as the structural integrity of the rooftop gave way and sections of it began to collapse underneath them. The van bucked and heaved over chunks of duracrete, before another zoid missile struck mere meters ahead of their bumper and sent it tumbling end over end into the air. The world spun outside as Lee desperately tried to keep her orientation.

They had gone over the edge of the roof, there was no way the van would hold up from a fall this big. Lee almost started to say something when there was a metal clunk! and an abrupt halt to their trajectory. Lee craned her neck out the windshield to see a mech had caught the van in mid-air as it swept in towards the street level.

"Carver here! Good shooting, but you should leave the sky fighting to us Pilots, guilders!"

Lieutenant Nathan Carver ignored the rude gesture Lee flashed from the window as he set the van back down on street level, already powering the mech's thrusters to get them airborne again.

"How's our ammo holding up, Halen?" He called as he scanned the surroundings.

"Bad Lieu... Carver." Airman Dasha Halen answered from the back of the mech. "We've got a few bombs left and several flares. We're out of rockets though and running low on the flak cannons too."

"Incoming on our eight! Forty-five up!" Nathan announced, positioning Dasha perfectly to riddle the incoming gryphon zoid with shots as it swooped in. The perforated creature faltered mid-dive and fell away to the ground below.

"Correction, left cannon's depleted, right has probably three more good bursts left." she stated, eyes sweeping over the diagnostics and reports. They wouldn't be able to keep the fight up much longer, but she also didn't think it was likely that Carver would have them abandon the battlefield, especially not at this point. She took a deep breath, mentally refocusing her attention. She would need to make these last couple shots count.

"Noted, we'll do some spotting then!" Carver announced. He wheeled the mech leftwards, weaving between buildings until he found a street heavily occupied by Zoids. Carver danced the mech through the air to keep them from locking onto their signal, ducking around a water tower and back into the street.

"This'll be a good target for the bombers, Halen. Fire off some signal flares!"

"Sir!" She punched the buttons, and a quartet of pink flares arced away from the mech, sparkling brightly in the fading light. Carver banked upwards hard, evading a missile that was a little close for comfort. They couldn't stay to drop their own bombs, the mech wouldn't be fast enough to avoid getting hit. With a frown he wheeled away between two skyscrapers. Hopefully someone else had noticed the target. A voice broke through the background chatter to Carver's headset.

"We see you Lieutenant Carver, This is Blair Williams coming in for a bombing run!"

A trio of fighter jets streaked out of the sky, Blair taking point, with Auburn and Duvan forming a V-shape behind her. The street was packed full of zoids that had wrapped around from a few different blocks to this choke point. A perfect target if they could hit it.

"We didn't get away clean, Blair!" Auburn shouted, a pair of Vulture Zoids were in hot pursuit, anti air fire exploding around the trio as they tried to position the start of their run.

"Got you covered!" came a new voice over the channel.

At first Blair thought the vehicle speeding towards them was another zoid, but as it neared she saw the unmistakable shape of an arwing in flight. Fox McCloud zipped past their formation with ridiculous speed, Laser cannons tearing into the unsuspecting zoids. One exploded on the spot, and the other peeled off, chasing down the arwing with a scream of rage. Fox McCloud worked the controls with a veteran's practice, the G-diffuser humming to life as Fox sent the arwing spinning in a barrel roll to evade the vulture zoid's fire.

"Bombing run is cleared!" He shouted into the intercom, "Now somebody get this bogie off of me!"

"That's disgusting, use a tissue or something." The dry sarcasm that greeted his call for help gave Fox pause, that voice didn't sound right for a normal human, but was strangely... correct to him.

"Boo-Yah!" Rocket Racoon shouted into his headpiece, locking onto the vulture zoid with his own "borrowed" fighter. A pair of missiles sent the vulture zoid crashing to the ground, and the two independent pilots fell into formation behind Blair's trio as they swept over the street, bombs and missiles raining destruction down upon the zoids below.

"Now this baby is what I'm talking about!" Rocket cackled, fingers dancing over the weapons options with anticipation.

"I owe you one!" Fox thanked, but Rocket only laughed.

"Put it on that Mustard guy's tab!" he paused, "Unless you got like a robotic arm or something..."

Fox glanced with some alarm at his cybernetic legs, but wisely didn't bring up the subject, instead, contacting Blair's fighter jet.

"This is Fox McCloud, ready to assist!" he barked with a dash of pride, "What's our next target?"

"Yeah! Who's asking for it?" Rocket piped up.

Blair looked down at the intercom screens with some small degree of surprise. Duvan's incredulous voice spoke up.

"Auburn, am I seeing things, or are that fox and racoon piloting fighters with us?"

"You tell me, Duvan. I still swear there were some yellow rodent critters running off that zoid before it shorted out."

"Hey! You take that back!" Rocket shouted angrily, slightly peaking the audio channel, "I'm not a racoon, and I ain't no freaking rodent!"

As the pilots rocketed back towards the ensuing dogfighting, four such rodents scampered through the destruction with intent and purpose. Pikachutwo had split the group into two teams, trying to disable as many of the not-steel-types as they could. It had been hours of running, hiding and ambushing but there seemed to be no end to the zoids and they were running low on power.

Pikachutwo darted up several chunks of broken piping and concrete, scouting out the route for a way towards shelter. Their part in the conflict was drawing to a close, they had done all they could to help the humans in their fight, now Pikachutwo's responsibility was to get the rest of the pikachus to safety. They had put their trust in him and he couldn't fail them now.

There was a roar and shouting from up ahead. A group of human soldiers were fleeing from a rhino zoid. They were occasionally firing at it as they fled, but the shots were sparing, and more to slow it than a hope for any real damage. they wouldn't get away from it without help, Pikachutwo could tell. He glanced back to his fellows, catching their breath in the shelter of a zoid carapace. If he asked them to, they would help him fight. He knew they wouldn't even question him either. They had so far escaped the fighting with only some slight burns, incredible luck when the enormity of the chaos was considered. But they were tired, and running low on energy. Could he really ask them to risk their own lives again, this late into a battle that showed no signs of ending?

He glanced back to the battle with a troubled expression as a new human dashed out of a side alley, slicing at the rear legs of the rhino zoid with a curved sword. It wasn’t very effective at disabling the creature, but as it’s head twisted backward he realized she was just trying to draw the beast's attention. The Zoid bellowed, more in anger than pain as it whirled on the newcomer. She evaded several stomps, then backed away, running desperately to stay ahead of the minigun fire coming from the creature's shoulder-mounted weaponry. It shredded a good portion of the street with bullets before a rocket smashed into it from the direction the soldiers had fled. A direct hit severely dented the minigun, and it sputtered into silence with a grinding of metal.

"That was our last one!" the soldiers called towards the newcomer, who nodded in response. She dashed over to protect them from the zoid, holding the blade in front of her and focusing her energy into it. Lightning began to arc into the blade in a way that Pikachutwo didn't think a human should have been capable of doing. She was clearly tired though, as the rhino zoid prepared to charge directly into them, Pikachutwo was confident she would not be able to accumulate enough power in time.

"Come on, everyone!" he shouted back to his fellows, "We need to help the human with the sword!"

With a cry, the four pikachus raced down to the group of humans, arranging themselves around Blade.

"We're here to help!" Pikachutwo hazarded an explanation, fully expecting the look of confusion that passed over Blade's face.

"What?" she asked, trying to focus her power into her weapon in the face of an impending metal wall.

"Pika-pi! Pika, Chu pika-pika, CHU!" one of the rodents chattered at her. As the phrase finished, lighting sparks arced from the four of them, forming a web of current between the five of them. Power suddenly replenished beyond her expectations, Blade refocused her attention on the rhino zoid. It was charging in, bellowing with corrupted rage. She swung the katana forward, the sections elongating into a chain-like structure that wrapped around the zoid's neck. With a shout, she poured all of the electricity she had accumulated into the blade. It glowed blue with power, lighting spitting off of it in globes as the excess current coursed through the rhino zoid. It's thundering charge faltered, smoke wafting off of it with the smell of burning metal. With her remaining strength she twisted the blade with a growl. The zoid's head sheared clean off as the blade-whip retracted to its normal state. Blade fell to one knee, barely sharing a glance with one of the yellow rodents before they scampered away into the streets.

"Are you alright?" one of the soldiers asked, walking over with a somewhat mystified expression. Blade nodded, slowly stepping back to her feet

"Yes, Do you know where we are?" she asked, sheathing her blade once more. There was an audible groan from one of the soldiers.

"Not ANOTHER newcomer!"

"Shut up, Cade!"

"Honestly though, what are the odds we'd find another one out here today?"

"This one hasn't threatened us, at least."

"Yet."

Knox looked back at his crew then towards Blade.

"We're attempting to link up with another squad, get back to somewhere we can at least get more ammo. Care to join us?"

Blade considered before nodding, "For the moment." she said finally.

"Uh... yeah, sure." Knox shrugged. The electric adept held up their arm, where one of Ohm's temporary communicators had been affixed.

"Ohm, are there any allies nearby we can make our way towards?"

There was a moment of static, then the Zoombini visage of Ohm Zui flickered into place in the display screen.

"Zoo! You guys are way out there in the field! Get back towards the barrier! I'll see if I can find someone nearby to link you up with."

Ohm Zui flicked between diagrams and charts, pulling up a feed of the reports near their coordinates. They briefly glanced towards the holomap, noting the progress of the disengagement. Markov's forces were preparing to fall behind the barrier, they needed to get these people moving before they were isolated from any support. There was yet another ping from the communicator, This time, showing the one eyed face of the mercenary known as Orion. He was bleeding from a jagged cut just below his good eye, it looked serious, but the veteran seemed not to think it was worth his attention.

"Chara just finished off the last one from the flanking force in this sector, that knife isn't normal. It cuts too clean for my liking. We're letting a child fight out here, but..."

"But we certainly can't argue with her results." Ohm nodded with agreement, "Zooo... I hope that we can maintain a line well enough that Markov's children are not placed at risk during their evacuation. Governmorne was not so lucky..." The Zoombini flicked through a running list of target assessments from the Crystal Ball Array. Several of its key members had already evacuated, and in the mounting fear and panic it’s effectiveness had somewhat faltered. However, several brave souls were still actively at work, and a few of the evacuated members were signing back in to do what they could remotely. There weren't any targets of particular note within easy reach, should they just pick up those stragglers and head back to the barrier? There was a roar from the screen behind Orion, and the mercenary’s face fell away to a jumble of moving concrete and metal.

"More coming!" a child's voice called from the screen. There was a shout, and the unmistakable sound of a ki blast that also temporarily saturated the camera's lense.

"There's more than those two. Too many." the child said with a strange calm.

"Right, then we're going airborne! Grab on Chara!" The sound of rushing air fuzzed the audio before Orion's face reappeared, Chara slightly visible arms wrapped around his neck as she hung from his back.

"Any more targets?"

"Zooks, no! Get back to a secure point near the barrier, we're going to pull back and..."

"Belay that order!" a new voice broke into the dialogue, "Link up and join the offensive, we're taking the fight straight to the Doomsday mech."

"Understood!" the mercenary answered without hesitation. Ohm was slightly more incredulous of Mustang's declaration.

"Is that advisable, Major? We don't know very much about the danger it presents and the cost to our forces could be severe!"

"Maybe so, but I'm not about to let Cevanti go without a fight, not while I'm still on my feet and able to try and stop it." Mustang answered with what was likely undeserved confidence, "Collect as many CBA users as possible to join our force, any guilder runners who are still alive out here too. We're going to drive a wedge straight through the front and into that Mech!"

He put down the communicator, and got out of the jeep. Second Lieutenant Hawkeye was there with the other officers, she saluted with a restrained smile. He saluted the group of them with a nervously eager grin.

"It's going to be bloody fighting, men. We aren't going out there to thin the numbers of Zoids, no need to confirm kills, just disable, disarm and keep moving. Keep pushing forwards, with any luck enough us will make it to deal some damage to that bastard in the mech! Dismissed!"

A cry went up as Markov's forces charged out towards the front in force. Lasers and bullets tore into Zoids, missiles and claws sent good men and women flying and screaming. A wave of flame rolled down the street, Roy moving from cover to cover, ignition cloth gloves snapping as soon as he could confirm a good target. The streets exploded into chaos as akata swarmed into the counter attack. The man to Roy's left was blown away by a zoid missile, and before the smoke had cleared an Akata was there, pouncing in towards his throat. A rifle bullet intercepted it, thudding into its neck and dropping it without a sound. Roy turned to give Hawkeye a wave of thanks, but she had already shifted targets to the boar zoid that was charging her position. One, two, three rifle shots snapped into its head, but the bellowing creature barely slowed.

"Woo hoo!" came a hollering shout, "Flesh'n blood beats scrap!" A scrawny looking kid shouted from the back of a massive boar. It slammed into the zoid mid charge, redirecting the creature into a nearby concrete column with a rending crunch. "That'a boy Tusker! This is our kind of scrap!" the kid shouted from the back of the beast, it bellowed, goring the zoid several more times for good measure.

Roy breathed a sigh of relief, then grabbed the nearest soldier.

"Hey!"

"Sir?" the hapless man yelped in minor surprise.

"Whatever your name is, get some more guards on the left flank. We need to get sharpshooters into the buildings and off the streets."

"Erm, Steve, Sir. Steve Nessing. I'm just a PFC sir."

"Then get your C.O. to do it!" Roy verbally snapped before physically snapping another burst of flame into a cluster of his men that had risen as void zombies.

"Right, Sir!" Steve barked before scampering off to find Sergeant Swift or maybe just a good place to take cover in this hellscape.

"Major Mustang," came Ohm's voice from the communicator, "I'm bouncing a message we just received back to you. It's information about our target from Ashe-0."

Roy ducked behind the broken shell of a gundam and glanced at the communicator, the diagnostic info all but ignored when he saw the message that accompanied it.

"Woah." PFC Steve remarked as he risked a glance from behind the wall he had taken shelter behind with PFC Axle and Sergeant Swift, "Now THAT is a bright light!"

---​

Three successive waves swept outwards from the point of Ashe-0's detonation. First, an electromagnetic pulse that raced the flash of light as it swept outwards. Even hampered by the magnetic fielding of Ashe-0's failing power cells it scrambled communications lines and downed lights and screens all the way through the near edge of the barrier. This was quickly followed by the ever-growing sound of igniting air, drowning out the screeches of zoids and the cries of Markov's defenders with its overpowering roar of sheer obliteration. Finally the shockwave of air pressure hit. A few of the closest buildings were leveled. Across the outskirts supports weakened by time and conflict gave way in an expanding crescendo of destruction. The characteristic second flash swept out, but only the truly insane would be looking on to see the fireball expanding outwards from the point of impact on the fade itself. The shockwave impacted the great barrier of Markov with an audible exchange, a fizzing static of burning air that further drained the waning barrier's energy supply. The mushroom cloud rose above the ruined skyline, smoking red with nitrous oxide as it expanded away from the super-heated air. A temporary monument for the war droid's sacrifice.

---​

In the forward command post, Colonel Herrick struggled to his feet. Ohm Zui's lack of footing had benefited them in recovering quickly from the impact and they were already at work restoring the holomap to functionality. It winked back into fuzzy existence, the red and green markers populating the map like blooming flowers as radar arrays recovered from the emp.

"What the hell was that?" Herrick demanded, ignoring the static feed his disabled cybernetic eye was screaming into his brain. Ohm only shook their head, flitting over to the portion of the map the Doomsday mech had occupied. The entire sector was a blur, coupled with several warnings from the holodisplay to avoid the area.

"No idea... Zoooo-ie! The heat readings in this zone are still off the charts, and its saturating what sensors are still operational to the point we can't make heads or tails of the readings we do get!" A philia scratched their chin thoughtfully. Eventually, Ohm gave what could best be approximated as a shrug.

"Either one of our number has hit the doomsday mech with something quite significant, or it possesses enough firepower to have leveled the city this whole time! Zounds, but I wish I could see what is happening out there!"

---​

Starscream pushed his engines to their limits as he raced to escape the fireball expanding outwards from the giant mech's face. That idiotic hero had really gone and blown herself up on the the thing, and hadn't even thought to warn them all to get distance first! The red energon had been burned away, and even his vaunted speed wasn't going to be enough. Starscream strained his engines for their last shreds of extra speed. This would not be his end!

The shockwave buffeted his jet form, throwing him off balance and tumbling through the air. Unable to reorient his momentum as he plummeted, Starscream transformed back into his robotic shape, crashing into the roof of an empty building with enough impact to smash clear through three stories. He lay there in pain and barely able to move. Starscream watched the small hole of sky above him literally catch fire as the oxygen ignited in the chain reaction. Regardless of its crude application, that power was something that Starscream could appreciate. Why did that idiot listen to anything the humans told it?

With aching servos, the decepticon crawled his way up out of the desiccated structure. clawed hands grabbing and lifting him through the stories until his head crested the rooftop. He cringed, shielding his optical sensors against the angry glare the mushroom cloud was reflecting down onto its surroundings.

Primus preserve them all, the Doomsday mech still stood. Small sections of the mech were melting and dropping off of it to the ground far below. Smoke wafted off of its superheated metal in waves of acrid black, steaming up into the mushroom cloud. Starscream sunk back into the hole his impact had made in the rooftop, thoroughly cowed. Just how powerful was this foe? just before he ducked back down to hide, Starscream noticed something that gave him pause. It was most likely some byproduct of the distorted air that surrounded them, but it almost looked like the Doomsday mech was moving backwards? That couldn't be right, it wasn't stepping, and it almost looked... fainter?

---​

"No!" the blackened and charred form of Lord Zedd bellowed with a rasping voice. He surged muscles of pure defiance, refusing to die buried in rubble like some forgotten creature. With a final effort he burst free, shoving aside the inert form of Baymax, sparing barely half a glance to see the robot's back half had been utterly shredded by the explosion it had been shielding Zedd from. Zedd took a shaky step onto the surface of the blast zone, staring up at the Doomsday mech as it smoldered with more light than the fading sun provided. It looked transparent.

"No!"Zedd's fury overcame his utter exhaustion and he forced himself forward, managing to reach a staggering half-jog by the time he neared the Fade's feet. They were sliding away from him, moving away without sign of motion from the mech itself.

"You cannot escape me!" Zedd howled, motor functions failing as he body screamed its need for rest, to stop. He screamed louder at it to do what he demanded. Zedd crouched down and sprang with his full energy towards the Mech's left leg. He threw all of his remaining energy into a punch that sailed right through its knee, passing through it like smoke as Zedd crashed back to the ground, unable to muster the energy to try again. He lifted his head to stare up at the massive mechanical being as it faded away towards the forest's edge.

"You cannot escape me!" He shouted, but the Fade gave no response, Disappearing from view completely as the sun set behind Markov's skyline.

There was a moment of pause on the battlefield, then a distant scream of frustration, pain and rage swept out of trees, washing over any defender who had managed to recover their wits, causing them to clamp their hands to the ears, curling up to seek any sort of respite they could. As one mind, The surviving Zoids turned towards the scream, and began to race towards it, heedless of their previous quarries.

The stars of Multerra twinkled into view above an eerie and suddenly still battlefield.

 

[Arbiter]

In some dark and twisted corner of the Crossroads, a monolithic figure watched the events unfolding within the limits of Markov.

As the Fade, crippled and defeated, retreated from the battlefield, Darkseid scowled as he turned away from the tear in space-time and stalked his way back toward the crest of a nearby precipice. From the summit of that small hill, he could stare across the shattered and disjointed remnants of a long-forgotten World of the Crossroads. Now, this collection of twisted wreckage was a festering cesspool of parademons and vile, shadowy monstrosities.

Although his features were tight with a twinge of frustration, the scene brought a gradual grin to Darkseid’s visage.

“They have forgotten the part they play in these events."

Something shifted among the sea of living darkness as the collected mass of Corruption seethed and called for blood.

The God of Apokolips sneered deeply at the horrors that awaited the vain and ignorant who might stand against the beauty of the Unmaking.

"We must help them understand.”

Spoiler

Markov has been defended, and the Corrupted Arbiter has withdrawn. The army of attacking zoids and akata will disperse eventually. Continued efforts must be taken to combat the Corruption on this World. Its defenders should be aware that their job is not yet over.

All PCs may give themselves +10 Influence with the Markov faction of their choice or +4 with all three factions.