Chapter 32 - Only I Can Fly High Enough

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The Ensign

The Ensign's fists bore the marks of violence, blood staining his knuckles as he loomed over Lucas, a sight of dishevelment and agony. Lucas, bound to the chair, bore the signs of brutal interrogation: his hair unkempt, eyes swollen shut, bruises painting his skin in shades of purple. Rope dug into his flesh, blood oozing from his mouth, a tooth dislodged from its gum.

"Where?" The Ensign's voice thundered, punctuated by the force of his boot crashing into Lucas's chest, sending him crashing to the metal floor, the chair splintering under the impact. Lucas lay sprawled, gasping for air amid the pain, thoughts drifting to his friends, Marcus foremost among them. Would he ever see them again?

The Ensign loomed over him, a menacing figure in the dim light of the room. "Don't think I won't hesitate to kill you, boy," he warned, his words dripping with malice. Lucas struggled to rise, his resolve battling against the agony coursing through his battered body, his mind clinging to memories of happier times, his friend's smile a beacon of hope amidst the darkness.

"I will break you," the Ensign vowed, seizing Lucas's hair in a cruel grip. "You kids have gotten in our way. I won't die at the hands of some academy brats," he spat, his contempt palpable. "Now, the codes...or the pain will only escalate," he threatened, his demeanor shifting, a sinister smile twisting his lips.

Lucas met his gaze, defiance flickering in his eyes even as tears welled and sweat beaded on his brow. "Fuck you," he murmured, a bitter laugh escaping his lips before a wave of agony engulfed him, blood staining the Ensign's face.

"Ah, the hard way it is," the Ensign remarked, shedding his jacket with a predatory grin before descending upon Lucas with renewed brutality.

Outside, Private Moreno's vigil was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a gunshot echoing through the hallway. Alertness flooded his senses as he rushed to investigate, the door swinging open to reveal a scene of horror. "What the hell..." he breathed, stunned by the grisly tableau before him.

Blood, like a macabre mural, adorned the brown rust of the wall, a testament to the violence that had unfolded. Lucas, once vibrant and full of life, now lay naked and broken, his body slumped against the unforgiving metal, a grotesque cavity in his skull.

The Ensign stood resolute, his posture rigid, the weight of his actions hanging heavy in the air. His hands, still tingling with the echo of the firearm's recoil, betrayed no hint of remorse as he holstered the weapon and began to don his military attire. Each movement was deliberate, methodical, a stark contrast to the chaos he had wrought.

Moreno's gaze remained fixed on the grisly scene before him, disbelief etched into every line of his face. "W-why?" he stammered, his voice trembling with a mixture of shock and horror.

"Why?" echoed the Ensign, his tone devoid of remorse. "Because he served his purpose."

"You brutalized him, and now you...you just discard him?" Moreno's voice dripped with contempt, his eyes blazing with anger as he confronted the Ensign.

The Ensign's lips curled into a sinister smile. "We don't need him anymore," he stated matter-of-factly, his gaze unwavering. "And besides, I've already gleaned everything I need from him. Seconds before I ended his life."

Disgust twisted Moreno's features as he struggled to comprehend the callousness of the Ensign's actions. "I didn't realize you were..." he began, his words trailing off as he searched for the right term.

"A bad man?" the Ensign finished for him, his voice laced with amusement. "We're pirates, Private Moreno. Let's not pretend otherwise."

Moreno tore his gaze away from the grisly sight, closing his eyes in an attempt to block out the horror. The Ensign's laughter cut through the silence like a knife, a chilling reminder of the brutality that lurked beneath the surface.

"A Warcasket changes things, doesn't it?" the Ensign mused, his tone tinged with mockery. "It's easy to play the hero from behind your fancy desk, but when you're faced with the reality of life and death..."

Moreno remained silent, his jaw clenched in frustration as he struggled to come to terms with the grim reality of their existence. The Ensign's words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked within their midst.

"It's best that you remember that," the Ensign continued, his tone a warning. "And as for your earlier trivial arguments with me...well, let's just say the Captain won't always be around to protect you. At his age, accidents can happen all too easily."

The Ensign's footsteps echoed ominously in the desolate hold as he made his way towards the door, eager to escape the oppressive silence that hung thick in the air. He moved with a hurried urgency, a palpable unease gripping him as he sought to put distance between himself and the gruesome scene behind him.

As he reached the threshold, a shiver ran down Moreno's spine at the sound of the Ensign's voice, a sinister melody that sent a chill coursing through his veins. The Ensign's words lingered in the air like a sinister refrain, each syllable dripping with a malevolent intent that sent a shudder down Moreno's spine.

"Would you believe me if I told you...that he asked for that?" the Ensign's voice was laced with a sickening mixture of amusement and cruelty. "It was a mercy after what I did to him."

With a sense of foreboding, the doors sealed shut, trapping Moreno in the suffocating darkness of the hold. The Ensign's words echoed in his mind, a haunting reminder of the darkness that lurked within the hearts of men.

Piper

Piper found herself immersed in Lucas's cramped dorm, the air thick with the melodies of a jazzy album that reverberated from the speakers he had installed. Despite being a Lieutenant, he was relegated to a small, closet-sized space, barely enough to accommodate a desk, bed, and a meager storage compartment nestled within.

Her gaze drifted to the desk, where Lucas's brown flight jacket hung snugly, waiting for its owner's return. Amidst scattered homework assignments from the academy, Piper couldn't help but smirk at the juxtaposition of scholarly pursuits against the backdrop of their perilous mission on the fringes of space.

But her amusement faded as she focused on a series of taped-up photos resting on the desk. They chronicled their travels through lush forests, unforgiving deserts, and vast water worlds. Yet, it was a particular photo that drew her attention—a snapshot from their younger years, featuring Margaret, herself, Lucas, Piper, and the rest of their house, with Zephyr even making an appearance. Piper, with her green eyes, peered out from the emergency hatch of her orange mech.

As she studied the photos, a bittersweet smile tugged at Piper's lips. "We'll return to those days, Lucas," she whispered softly. "I'll step into your shoes...there's still time."

The irony of her words hung heavy in the air, overshadowed by the reality of their precarious situation. Suddenly, the ship trembled beneath her feet, sending a subtle shiver down her spine. Piper's breath caught in her throat as a more violent tremor rocked the room, forcing her to cling to the walls for stability.

As Piper's eyes widened, the room was bathed in a swirling cascade of lights emanating from the window, casting an eerie glow across the horizon. The sight sent a shiver down her spine as she struggled to maintain her balance.

Her radio crackled to life, Ernest's urgent voice cutting through the chaos. Other voices clamored in the background, frantic and disorganized, adding to the sense of impending danger.

"What's happening?" Piper's voice rose above the din, desperation tinged with fear.

Ernest's response was strained. "We're under attack!" His words hit like a thunderclap. "Multiple enemy Warcaskets closing in from the right port. How the hell did they slip past our scouts?" His tone was laced with disbelief and alarm.

Amidst the chaos, Piper seized control, her voice commanding attention over the commotion. "Listen up, everyone!" Her words cut through the frenzy, commanding obedience. "All Warcasket pilots, prepare for immediate launch. Engineers and support staff, man your battle stations."

Ernest's breath came in ragged gasps. "But Piper, most of us are engineers and—"

Piper's interruption was swift and decisive. "You and everyone else received Mercurian Battle training. Now's the time to put it to use."

"Yes, ma'am," Ernest grumbled reluctantly. "At once, everyone, to your stations!"

A determined smirk tugged at Piper's lips as she swung open Lucas's door, leading the charge. Her gaze swept over the crew of House Mercury, scrambling to heed her command. They rushed to don their pilot attire, a sense of urgency propelling them forward.

Ernest rallied his crew in the hangar, his voice cutting through the tension. "You heard the lady!" he bellowed, a hint of reluctance in his tone. "This is why we're here—to defend our house and our honor."

But amidst the fervor, a voice pierced through, soft and trembling with fear. A young girl, tears streaming down her cheeks, sought solace in the arms of a male friend.

"I don't want to die," she sobbed.

Ernest's response was gentle yet firm. "I know," he murmured, his voice tinged with empathy. "But it's our duty to fight back against these invaders."

As Piper stood firm, a formidable battalion of twenty-five Mercurian pilots stood behind her, a silent force braced for battle.

Ernest's gaze swept over the assembly, his resolve steeling with each passing moment. "Get those pilots and their Warcaskets ready," he commanded, his voice echoing through the chaos. "This is a fight for survival—them or us." The ship shuddered violently, flames erupting from the ceiling like fiery tongues licking the air.

"Piper!" Her name sliced through the tumult, a desperate plea in the midst of chaos.

Ernest waved off her concern. "I'll have one of the juniors handle it," he declared, his eyes fixed on the task at hand. "But the rest of you, prepare yourselves!"

Piper rushed to join him, her pilots following in her wake. They were a diverse group, clad in the standardized Mercurian gear, each bearing their own array of weaponry—assault rifles, melee weapons, bazookas, grenades. But there were five among them who stood out, their equipment adorned with strange and formidable additions. One of them, a young man, slipped into a Warcasket fitted with a massive tank cannon on his shoulder.

"Prepare for deployment!" he cried out, his voice ringing with determination as the Warcaskets, their visors gleaming like trident guards, were fueled and launched into the fray.

Following his lead, the squad of four scrambled into action, their Warcaskets leaving trails of orange sulfur in their wake. Bullets and missiles streaked through the air as they dove headfirst into battle.

"Orange Rocket here!" the young man's voice crackled over the comms. "I've spotted their command vessel!"

"Good," Piper responded tersely, her attention torn between the chaos around her and the dormant eye of her own Warcasket. Another violent tremor shook the ship, threatening to throw her off balance as she scrambled towards her mech.

"Piper!" Ernest's voice cut through the chaos, a note of urgency in his tone. But Piper's focus remained unwavering, her gaze fixed on the silent sentinel before her, her hands clenched into fists of determination.

"Our people are out there dying," she declared, her voice carrying the weight of their collective struggle. Then, with a determined resolve, she turned her gaze towards the looming enemy mech.

"Piper," Ernest's voice cut through the tension, filled with concern. "You can't—"

"I've been out there," she interrupted, her tone firm yet tinged with weariness. "Five minutes, and already nosebleeds. I've faced worse."

Ernest's protests fell on deaf ears as Piper stood before the Martian mech, a formidable presence amidst the chaos. Ernest approached, his urgency palpable as he pleaded with her to reconsider.

"Piper, you have to see reason," he implored, his words laced with desperation. "Humans and mechs weren't meant to merge like this. It's not natural. And with that eye of yours connected to another mech—do you feel it?"

Piper remained silent, her gaze fixed on the enemy looming before her. Another explosion rocked the ship, flames dancing in the air as Ernest sought cover.

"People are dying out there, Ernest," Piper declared, her voice unwavering. "This suit, cursed as it may be, can turn the tide of battle in an instant. Are you going to deny me that chance?"

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Ernest faltered, his arguments crumbling in the face of Piper's determination. "But how do you know you'll survive?" he pressed, his fear for her safety laid bare. "What if you don't come back? Then we'll all be—"

Piper's smirk cut through his words like a blade, her fiery spirit unyielding. Memories of conversations with Henryk flooded her mind, filling her with a fierce confidence.

"I know," she declared, her voice ringing with certainty. With a defiant gleam in her eyes, she turned to face Ernest, her red hair ablaze like a phoenix reborn. "Because only I can fly high enough.”

The Ensign

The Ensign and Travis streaked across the expanse of the Mercurian vessel, their rusty bazookas tearing through the metal with devastating force. Inside, the youth scrambled to their stations, screams mingling with the captain's booming commands over the vox.

"Damn, we caught them with their pants down, didn't we, Ensign?" Moreno's voice crackled over the chaos as he deftly maneuvered his mech, his steel blade cleaving through enemy mechs with deadly precision. Bullets whizzed past him as he returned fire with his assault rifle, the bursts tearing through their adversaries.

The Ensign paused, assessing the situation. "Their shields are holding," he observed, his gaze shifting to the imposing command tower of the enemy ship. A smile tugged at his lips as he surveyed the unfolding battle from the viewport of his warcasket.

With a salvaged arm pack and a makeshift axe in hand, the Ensign danced through the fray, dodging blows and delivering devastating strikes. Amidst the chaos, a voice crackled over the radio, but it was drowned out by the thunder of explosions and the roar of battle.

"It's a hell of a fight!" Moreno's cocky laugh echoed through the commotion as he joined the fray with his bazooka in hand.

The Ensign snorted. "Adding numbers with that last battalion?" he remarked dryly, his focus unwavering as he pressed on towards the enemy command center. "This is a last gamble at best."

Moreno's gaze flicked to the Ensign, his expression grim. "Luckily, we had Lucas's intel," he replied, his tone tinged with dark humor. "It's either victory or death."

Suddenly, a bazooka blast from the Ensign jolted Moreno back to attention, and he plunged back into the thick of battle. Meanwhile, the Ensign deftly dodged a hail of bullets, realizing too late that they were encased in a glass enclosure dotted with gatling turrets.

"Die, pirate!" Ernest's voice cut through the chaos, his shots echoing into the void of space. The Ensign's gaze flickered to the incoming shells, his reflexes kicking in as he directed his fire downward, striking the side of Ernest's turret.

The ceiling collapsed around Ernest, flames engulfing him as he was violently ejected from his seat. His scream pierced the air as he was thrown amidst the fiery wreckage. Meanwhile, the Ensign maneuvered swiftly, dodging the haphazard barrage from the inexperienced crew.

Beneath the command vessel, the Ensign steadied his aim, intent on ending the battle by taking out the captain. But before he could fire, a urgent voice shattered the tension.

"Ensign, we need you now!" Moreno's voice crackled over the chaos, drawing the Ensign's attention to their own command vessel. A distant explosion rocked the ship, sending shockwaves rippling through its hull.

From the midst of the chaos emerged a blazing orange comet, streaking through the breached hull with malevolent purpose. Rockets followed, embedding themselves into the ship as it was overrun.

"Fools on the turret!" The Ensign's voice dripped with anger as he unleashed a barrage of fire towards his own vessel. Time was against them, with the enemy swiftly gaining the upper hand.

"We're trying!" Another voice chimed in, gunfire echoing in the background. "It's too fast!" The voice was abruptly cut off by an explosion.

With every ounce of determination, the Ensign unleashed his rockets, while below him the Mercurians fought fiercely. But this unexpected turn threatened to tip the scales of the battle irreversibly.

"Private Moreno!" The Ensign's voice rang out, urgent and commanding.

"Reporting!" Moreno's response came, amidst the cacophony of gunfire from his warcasket.

"We lose the command vessel, we lose the battle... and our lives!" The Ensign's words carried a weight of desperation. Failure was not an option.

"I'm doing my best!" Moreno shouted back, but doubt lingered in his voice.

The Ensign inched closer to his mic. “If you fail, I’ll make it my mission to find whatever hell you crawl into after battle. You will never be safe, and, when I find you… I’ll do to Lucas, to you. You were never my favorite.” And he shut off his comms and beamed forth towards the encroaching battle.

Piper

The battlefield was a chaotic dance of debris, a testament to the ferocity of space battles. But amidst the swirling fragments of shattered vessels, Piper cared little for cover. She soared forward, a streak of orange amidst the darkness, blood trickling from her nose, the false eye pulsing with electric blue.

"This is true power!" Piper's exultant cry echoed in the void as she deftly maneuvered around obstacles with inhuman precision. Her mind flashed to faces from the past - Logan, Atticus, Henryk - eager to showcase her newfound abilities upon her return to the academy.

As she raced past her comrades and darted among enemy warcaskets, Piper jettisoned her propulsion tank. The enemy pilots pointed and shouted, but she was a blur, too swift to be caught. With a smirk, she homed in on the enemy hangar, left vulnerably open.

The realization dawned on the enemy too late, their panicked chatter audible over the radio. With a widening grin and blood staining her jacket, Piper burst into the hangar, sparks trailing in her wake. The crew froze in terror as she calmly declared, "Found you."

With ruthless efficiency, Piper unleashed her bazooka, a weapon of unknown origin loaded with ten rockets. Metal crumpled beneath the onslaught as she targeted engineers and crew alike. Then, turning her attention to the enemy warcaskets, she unleashed a barrage of firepower, determined to turn the tide of battle in her favor.

An explosion roared, engulfing Piper's view in a fiery inferno. From the flames emerged her mech, rising like a phoenix from the ashes.

"Is that you, Piper?" The familiar voice called out.

Piper chuckled. "Yep."

The boy laughed. "Looks like our ace is a warship sinker now."

Piper's laughter echoed again. "Keep up the good work," she encouraged before maneuvering her mech around the vessel, unleashing destruction upon its hull.

Explosions rocked the ship, the captain desperately trying to maintain control amidst the chaos. "We can't take any more structural damage!" a lieutenant screamed as flames licked at the viewport.

"We've lost all engines and power is fading fast!" another voice joined in the frantic cacophony.

Gritting his teeth, the commander braced himself against the controls. Through the flames, Piper's orange thrusters blazed, heralding another onslaught. With a final barrage of rockets, the vessel teetered on the brink of collapse.

As fires raged and crew members were engulfed, Piper charged forward, her mech's arms becoming instruments of destruction. AK-47s blazed, bullets tearing through the command tower and crew. With a thunderous explosion, Piper's mech leaped, propelled by crashing legs, and she soared away from the blast.

Breathless and flushed, Piper's grip tightened on her weapon as she surveyed the aftermath. "Ernest, is that you?" a voice crackled over the radio.

Her eyes widened. "Ernest!" Relief flooded her voice. "You're okay!"

He chuckled weakly. "Got some bad burns, but they'll make good stories. You took out that flagship... How are you holding up?"

Piper unfastened her helmet, feeling the weight of a cold puddle forming along her chin. A shiver threatened to overtake her, but she suppressed it. "I'm fine," she declared, though she could taste the metallic tang of blood. "Just a nosebleed. I still have a few minutes left before I need to return."

Ernest's silence was punctuated by the rapid clattering of keys. "Piper, we have two inbound and more on the way," he informed her urgently. "They're the ones we've been wary of. They move faster than the rest."

Examining her helmet, Piper grimaced at the sight of blood obscuring her vision. She wiped her nose and stripped off her flight suit, revealing a white tank top beneath. With practiced efficiency, she tied her hair into a ponytail.

"Piper?" Ernest's voice broke the silence.

Piper continued her preparations in silence, stuffing the suit into the mech's pocket. "Ernest, I appreciate your concern, but I've got this," she reassured him. "I can't handle your voice and theirs right now."

Ernest's response was soft but encouraging. "Then go get them, Piper. Good hunting." With that, he signed off.

As the approaching threats came into view, Piper steadied her breath and closed her eyes. She was fighting for her comrades—for Margaret, Lucas, Eric, and the others. Justice demanded retribution, a debt to be repaid in full.

Throttling toward her adversaries, Piper whispered a prayer. "Grant me your strength, Eye. Warcasket of Mars, lend me your power!" Her voice echoed in the vastness of space.

Drawing closer to the enemy, Piper was struck by an unexpected response—a voice, ancient and ethereal, echoing in her mind.

"You are not my master," it declared, a chorus of ages reverberating within its timbre. The words stirred memories of Ernest's grandmother and her tales of the supernatural.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" she had once asked him, laughing at his earnest response. Now, facing the unknown, Piper couldn't help but wonder if there was more to those stories than she had ever imagined.

The clash was brutal and relentless. The Ensign wielded his axe with lethal precision while balancing the weight of a bazooka in his other hand. Opposite him, Private Moreno descended with dual machine guns, salvaged remnants of a bygone era.

Amidst the chaos of battle, they momentarily disengaged. Piper's attention was drawn to a ping on her console, a faint signal cutting through the din of combat. She raised her eyes to a small, antiquated monitor, displaying grainy footage of two men. Questions surged through her mind—wasn't Mars a feudal world? And what of Henryk, the enigmatic interloper who might hold answers?

"What's wrong with your eye?" The Ensign's voice cut through the tension, his tone sharp and probing.

Piper recoiled at the question, her silence betraying the turmoil within her.

Moreno's voice dripped with scorn. "Deaf, ginger, or just retarded?" he taunted, a cruel laugh punctuating his words. "You've got a lot of blood on your hands, bitch. How many of my friends did you kill on that vessel?"

Anger flared in Piper's eyes. "You two..." she began, her voice trembling with rage. "You were there that day!"

The Ensign's chuckle was chilling, sending shivers down Piper's spine. "Ah, talking about dear old Lucas..." he mused darkly.

"Where is he?" Piper demanded, her voice rising. "Where are all of them? What have you done with them?"

Moreno's laughter echoed through the commotion. "We barely had time to start our reaving and raiding," he mocked.

The Ensign nodded in agreement. "There was another group here, with different colors but bearing Jacen's mark. They took your friends..."

Piper's hands clenched around the controls. "But you know where they are!" she insisted, her voice raw with desperation.

Moreno's words cut through the chaos like a blade through the night. "Are you a fool?" he roared. "If they weren't killed, then they were captured and sold on the black market. Jacen doesn't waste time—he'll have them auctioned off to his cronies in the darkest corners of the frontier within hours."

Piper's heart sank, a sickening feeling gripping her as the weight of Moreno's words settled in.

The Ensign, sensing her distress, surged forward, his axe gleaming with deadly intent. Piper darted away, her thrusters propelling her out of harm's way as she readied her bazooka once more.

Tears welled in her eyes. "What will I tell Margaret?" she whispered, just before evading a barrage of gunfire from Moreno.

Diving into the ship's cockpit, Piper was joined by Moreno and the Ensign, their weapons drawn as they prepared for the impending clash.

"Shit!" Piper cursed as the Ensign unleashed a torrent of laughter over the comm.

With grim determination, Piper pushed forward, her mech crushing the remnants of fallen crew members as she fought her way through the carnage. Dodging explosions and gunfire, she felt the weight of exhaustion settling over her like a suffocating blanket.

As doubts crept in, she murmured to herself, "Come on, fight..." But her nose was bleeding, her head swimming with fatigue. Her mission lay in ruins, her resolve wavering.

In the heat of battle, amid clashes of metal and sparks, Piper and the Ensign faced off. Their weapons clashed, each strike ringing out with a haunting echo. Piper's gladius shimmered with an ethereal blue light, its blade humming with otherworldly power.

The Ensign's mech buckled under the force of her blows, but his arrogance remained unyielding. "You failed, girl," he taunted over the radio. "And you couldn't save dear old Lucas."

Piper's eyes widened in disbelief, memories of Atticus flooding her mind. She saw him, standing tall and defiant, a symbol of unwavering strength and resilience.

"You're lying!" Piper shouted, her voice trembling with defiance. "Lucas was trained by the best—he's unbreakable! Nothing could ever break him!"

Yet, the Ensign skillfully wielded his lone stub arm and tossed his bazooka into Moreno’s eager hands. Moreno chuckled as he took aim upon their blade lock.

The Ensign chuckled darkly as he whirled his attention towards Piper. “Oh, sweet girl,” He said. “Lucas died on the tip of my penis. It was a mercy what I did to him after. I doubt a proud son of a Milworld could’ve borne such a shame.”

And Piper was aghast, so aghast and stricken at the implication of Lucas’s fate, that she failed to realize the rocket coursing towards her. She rose her left arm only for the rocket to come careening it…and hard, she was knocked into the metal, crushing it but her head struck hard along the back of her cushion causing her to see stars.

She wanted to nurse her head, but danger signs echoed as her view was engulfed by Ensign Moreno’s mech’s axe about to crash into her. Instead, she skillfully whirled herself away on her agile thrusters, narrowly dodging the cleave.

She beamed away as the Ensign and Moreno started to continue there chase.

“Lucas,” Piper spoke his name, her voice shuddering. “Oh my god, Lucas, I am so sorry I wasn’t able to reach you in time.”

First came sadness, and then grief, but then…anger bloomed. Piper slammed her hand hard along the console. She planted her mech’s legs infront of her and slowed her descend cycling backwards to face the pair.

“I don’t care if it kills me,” She spoke darkly. “But that earlier hesitation is gone…I’ll have revenge for you and all the rest, Lucas.”

Piper slammed forth, and the Ensign and Moreno’s trackers lit up.

“Holy crap, she’s going so…,” And Moreno was slammed hard, he grunted as blood came rising from his throat, Piper came hard.

“Fuck you!” She shouted. “I’ll kill all you useless dogs!” She shouted, and all of them, they all came appearing across her minds eye. Friendship, honor, love, hope…grief.

But a memory lingered. “Why do you have to go?” Her father had cried.

“To make something of myself,” She had uttered as she held her duffel bag. “Dad, I know what you offering me is good and I want to listen to you, but I can’t. There are things that people need to do in this world…and I have to.”

And her father's plea echoed in Piper's mind, a haunting reminder of the sacrifice she was making. But as she stared into his eyes, she knew there was no turning back.

"Goodbye, Dad," she whispered, her voice heavy with determination. "I'm doing this to protect you all. It's an honor."

Her father's expression twisted with a mix of emotions—pain, anger, and perhaps a hint of pride. "Then never come back," he spat, slamming the door shut behind him. The memory lingered, casting a shadow over Piper's thoughts. Was she the same person who had walked away from her family all those years ago?

As Piper grappled with the weight of her past, the present demanded her attention. With a sharp focus, she unleashed a point-blank bazooka shot at Moreno, the blast engulfing him and his mech in flames as they careened into the corridor.

"You!" bellowed the Ensign, his rage fueling his every move as he charged forward with his melee weapon. Piper shot upwards, navigating through the debris as the orange glow of their battle illuminated the darkness of space. Help would come, Piper knew, but it would be too late.

The Ensign's teeth clenched as he collided with Piper, his kick throwing her off balance. Regaining her composure, Piper unleashed a torrent of bullets, but the Ensign deftly evaded them. She fired her rocket launcher, grazing his thigh and igniting a blaze that danced across his mech.

"Damn it, I'm hit," he muttered, scrambling to reach Moreno's unconscious form. "I'll make you pay for this, Moreno!" he roared, returning fire as Piper closed in.

Gritting her teeth, Piper surged forward, activating her gladius and purging her backpack. The Ensign whirled his axe, taunting her with boasts of superiority. But Piper was undeterred, her determination burning brighter than ever as she faced off against her adversary.

Piper descended with a fierce determination, the wire trailing along her cheek, a reminder of the chaos unfolding around her. "Die, you bastard!" Her battle cry pierced the tumultuous air as she thrust her blade forward, meeting the Ensign's axe in a clash of metal and fury.

The Ensign's axe tore through Piper's right mech arm, rending it asunder, and plunged deep into her chest, piercing the very heart of her mech. "H-Henryk," she gasped, her eyes widening as darkness threatened to consume her amidst the flickering lights that danced in the Ensign's viewport.

A primal scream tore from the Ensign's lips as Piper's supercharged gladius retaliated, driving into his chest module with unstoppable force. His cockpit shattered around him, his desperate protests echoing over the radio in a frenzy of madness. "J-J...ust a g-girl!" His voice crackled and faltered, a final plea lost in the chaos as the Ensign met his end.

With the battle's climax reached, a tense calm settled over the wreckage. The Mercurians, victorious but battered, surveyed the aftermath. Ernest nursed his wounds, his gaze fixed on the distant blue planet—a reminder of the lives saved by Piper's valor.