Shades Of War (A Titanfall Story)

Shifting Tides

IMC controlled airspace,Demeter Orbit

3 years earlier...

"Everyone houses a belief that there are 'good' guys and 'bad guys...There is no such thing as this foolery that is good and bad,it is merely a matter of perspective,and the source of their inspiration.."

-Redeye,Titan Pilot,Interstellar Manufacturing Company(Deceased)
_

The IMS Collosus was currently bustling with activity.Squads of various units were shuffling in and out of pods and shuttles,Command shifting troops to reinforce for the incoming attack on Demeter,the IMC's largest and most crucial refueling depot.Assigned soldiers however,
were currently in the mess hall,riflemen and pilots alike eating and chatting,everyone in their own groups.

The overall morale was rather low,following an IMC defeat at Airbase Sierra,as well as the loss of their former flagship,the IMS Sentinel

This is the scene Azula arrived to.She walked briskly to the line,ignoring the foolish grunts' catcalling with practiced ease.Grabbing her tray of food,she quickly looked around the endless sea of whites and blues,searching for her team.She spotted a familiar spider-eyed Pilot helmet,as well as the rest of her unit.They waved her down,the male grinning as she sat between him and another woman,a corporal from the patch on her kevlar sleeve.

"Doom n' gloom!Glad you could make it!"The male said eagerly as he finished his tea,stupid grin on his face.

This was the usual for Private Kevin Irons,a newly certified pilot and squadmate of Wraith's following the recent Operation Fracture.Can a bit of an airhead,but he has proven capable and very protective of those he values.

Azula snorted,a rare thing opposed to her usual indifference.

"Huh.And here i thought you'd learned your lesson the first time I warned you about calling me that.Do you want a repeat of last time,Private Irons?"She retorted cooly,moving to take a bite of her pre-made sandwich as the poor cowered,ribs and face throbbing in remebrance of the lesson in respect to his superiors.

Over the time she spent aboard the Collosus,Azula had made use of her famlies (and by extention hers) vast wealth back in the Core Worlds.Through this,she'd been able to source her own materials and items,upgrading her combat life and off duty life.

'Besides,they cant use it anyway...'she thought bitterly,before she shook her head,getting back on track.8

As long as she had the downtime and money,she could virtually purchase and use whatever,as long as it didnt breach her contract with the IMC.

'Gotta love the IMC's extreme leniency on us pilots,makes being a crim-soldier a bit more bearable in the end.' She noted internally,before the woman next to her spoke up suddenly,breaking the comfortable flow of their table.

"Um,Ma'am? Permission to speak freely?" Seeing her conflicted look,Azula raised a delicate eyebrow in curiosity,but nodded.

Lance Corporal Nessie was also a transfer,though she came from the survivors of Angel City.She was suspected as a flight risk or deseeter,having been rumored leaving her post to avoid capture,damning her now former team to death or worse.

"Are we really the on the right side of this war?"

A pen drop could be heard at the table,thatt question silencing the entire table,as the same question had been brought up many times in Bone Squad,the countless past pilots that served here asked the same thing.

The IMC is not all money and patriots.Its money is drenched in gallons of frontier blood,spilled by the numerous warmongers,greedy businessmen,and insane soldiers.Over the past 2 years of being a Pilot,Azula had seen,done,and been through it all.She'd seen men ripped from their titans and squished into paste,with the turncoat insurgents getting the worst treatment,even worse than POW's.Shutting the lid on the quickly darkening thoughts, she heaved a tired sigh,with eyes not belonging on a 22 year old.