“What the fuck are they doing!?” Kolme said in disbelief.

The IAFS Casnels had arrived bringing a moment of hope to the survivors, but they hadn't been alone – Following behind them was a squadron of 6 Nemo's and 3 Vijaik Heavies, the 12 mechs together being the complete compliment that always accompanied the Tradech. And while the Casnels tore apart enemy machine's one by one, the Nemos and Heavies were not nearly so successfully, being wiped out in mere moments.

“They should of come here and helped defend the Fluchtig and the Weapon, the Hell were they thinking?!”

Kolme yelled at no one in particular as he watched the last of the Heavies get unceremoniously ripped apart after having charged head first into the fray.

“It would seem our good Captain Legro has gone somewhat rouge Kolme – The weapon is turning - If I were to guess, Legro isn't here to rescue us but rather for a glorious last minute victory.”

Nate mused.

“Wha?!” Kolme turned his machine to look and indeed, though a slow process – The colossal length of the weapon was ever so slowly moving.

“ARGHHHHH!!!!”

Kolme turned again to see one of the Nemos nearby him writhe in pain before exploding violently – The next moment a second, than a third.

Kolme looked straight up – Literally circling in the space above the Fluchtig, having skipped past the war-path of the Casnels, were just three mechs – Blue, with something akin to wings affixed to their arms and long pointed heads. A Mleue, a mech Kolme had faced back in his days aboard the Tradech.

If memory served him, it was a high-spec Vijaik, designed for speed and close quarters combat.

One of the trio in the sky swooped down, imbedded in each of its arms was a short Arc-Staff, a bayonet of sorts – Getting in close and easily dodging the counter fire of the Nemos, the Mleue drove the two bayonets straight into another units core before pulling free and flying back up to the circle above – Before long this Nemo too exploded.

“Bastards, they've given up on overwhelming us with number? Trying to beat us with a single Ace unit instead?”

Kolme scowled.

“More likely,” Aurin cut in, “they simply want to focus on the Tradech's Casnels and the Weapon and so felt they could only spare this one spare unit of Aces.”

“Well we'll show them – Hold your ground everyone, we have them outnumbered still!” Kolme issued across the local comms with the remaining Tristian Vijaiks.

It was a desperate defence, behind them the weapon continued to turn, while lifeboats kept on trying to reach the Fluchtig's relative safe haven – Above them the IAFS Casnels continued to fight on against hundreds of enemy machines.

The now just 20 Nemos fired under Kolme's command, even from the open door of the hanger-bay the mechanics of the Fluchtig had wired up some unused rifles and added to the assault.

They desperately tried to push back the three Mleue above, aswell as many squads of Ogres that snuck past the Casnels and headed straight for the Fluchtig.

But one by one, the Mleue picked off the Nemos – With speed and power they jabbed and stabbed the Fluchtig's meagre forces to pieces.

Kolme took a deep breath; “Nate, take what's left and ram the control centre or something – I'll give you a distraction.”

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“Kolme no, we need you!”

Kolme laughed softly, even as he did another Nemo exploded to his right, while the Mleue continued to mockingly circle overhead like birds of prey;

“We can't let the weapon fire, Sabban and Hoki might still be out there and who knows how many others – The Weapon fires and they're gone – I owe it to them not to let that happen. Make a break for it, Admiral, and stop this madness once and for all.”

There was a long pause before Nate spoke again; “Very well we can try it. Good luck old friend.”

Kolme drew an arc-staff in one hand and cut the cable connecting him to the bridge – Rifle in his other hand he kicked off the deck and floated up. The Mleue seemed to find some novelty in this, perhaps also recognising Kolme's machine possessing a different design to the other Neos – They began to tighten their circle.

Kolme rose his rifle and fired off a few shots – They weren't aimed at anyone of the three enemies but just at the circle in general, presuming if they kept circling he was bound to hit one of them.

Unfortunately for Kolme, the Mleue closest pulled up and skimmed past the energy volley, instead closing in on him its bayonets at the ready.

One blade cutting his rifle in two, Kolme just barely managed to rise his arc staff to block the other – The Mleue passed as fast as it had appeared, re-joining the circle.

“Tsk.” Kolme groaned, his rifle now gone he laid both his Vijaik's hands on the arc-staff.

Kolme knew for a fact he was a fairly mediocre pilot but if he could atleast act like an ace, atleast keep the Mleue occupied with the novelty of the Neo-C, perhaps it would buy the Fluchtig a little time.

On que another strike from the Mleue, it rapidly came straight up to the Neo-C, easily batting aside the arc-staff it reared back its other hand ready to strike – When with all his might, Kolme pulled on his axillary levers – The double barrel cannon on his back swung forward and fired off without hesitation.

The Mleue pulled out of its attack, ducking beneath the last minute assault and falling back.

“Ha! How do you like that!” Kolme shouted – He began firing the weapon again and again, circling around, creating his own fireworks show of energy charges.

Then:

“Shit!!” - This time the Mleue had dropped the niceties, one coming in from the front, while another struck from behind – The double barrel cannon was pierced – It exploded nearly destroying the Neo-C with it.

Kolme was rocked around the cockpit from the force of the explosion but it didn't stop there – One by one the Mleue took turns swopping in and cutting at the now weapon-less Neo-C – Kolme could only watch as with each hit the Mleue seemed to take massive pleasure in slowly tearing the flesh of his Neo to pieces – An arm, then a vent – A hand followed by some of the kilt armour – Impact after bone shuddering impact.

Kolme stood out of his chair, crazy-eyes fixed on the main monitor – His read-outs showed there was little more for the Mleue to strike at aside from his legs or the cockpit itself;

“Come On Then!! Finish Me You Bastards!!” The old man roared, beating at his chest.

And then the Mleue left.

“What are you doing?!” But his words fell on death ears.

His mech thoroughly disabled after having bought barely any time at all, Kolme could do nothing but watch through the cracked camera screens as the three ace-Vijaiks left his buckled machine behind and once more descended with all their might on the bedraggled Fluchtig.

He watched as one by one the last of the Nemos fought to their last breath. He watched as one of the three stopped circulating and began hanging just above the Fluchtig's bridge, from its back it unsheathed a long rocket launcher looking weapon – Aiming straight down at the Fluchtig's central dome.

Kolme leaped for the controls, desperate to do something, anything;

“Come on unit 3, god-damn it, COME ON!” But the machine didn't respond to his cry.

Just as the barrel of the rocket-launcher glowed, ready to split apart the Fluchtig itself, a thin beam of red cut across the sky – It pulsed into the launcher, shattering it.

Kolme stared in joyful disbelief – The Mleue's assault suddenly halted, they also turned to see this final intruder – Closing the distance with remarkable speed was a Casnel, the grey and navy blue of Lt.Commander Emilia Von Sheen.