In the skies, Outskirts of the Empire
“Come on, Come on, Come on, Come on!!!” Harvard yelled as he tore through the Empire’s formation, skillfully evading shots and returning them in kind. Ten minutes into the battle and he was already getting bored; the enemy simply had no pilot that could match his battle prowess. He fired a shot through a Doll’s cockpit, making it his fifth kill already. “Isn’t there anyone here worthy of my blade?” he screamed through a public channel, intimidating the already terrified soldiers.
****
“What do we do sir? We are losing too many men to that soldier,” Rick asked, and grimaced as another blip disappeared, signalling another loss.
Jacobson cursed under his breath; the differences in combat skills were even higher than he had feared. If care was not taken, they would be defeated in less than an hour.
“Pull up the Doll on the monitor,” he ordered and one of their soldier’s cameras relayed the image of their reaper. He sucked in his breath when the image came on the screen.
Harvard's Doll was designed solely for speed and attacks, thus no outer frame had been put on its skeleton. While it made the green suit faster, any little scratch could out-rightly kill the pilot. 'It held a plasma rifle in its hand but that was clearly his secondary weapon because a significantly large longsword rested on its back. Jacobson knew then, that whoever the pilot was, he was someone who had no fear of death; a trait most of his men lacked. This meant there was only one way to fight the pilot.
“Order Bravo team to surround him, and use long ranged shots. He is fast so he will be capable of closing in quickly, but with that kind of speed, he will not be able to switch directions so easily. Aim for where he will be, not where he is. But do not aggressively attack him. Your mission is to keep him occupied until the angels arrive. Spirits guide you,” Jacobson ordered.
****
“Brook, Fren, on me!” Staff Sargent Mosa ordered as she got in formation around Harvard. “We have to babysit this son of a bitch for a while.”
“Roger,” Brook acknowledged as he pulled out his high pressure rifle and fired at Harvard, disengaging him from another soldier.
“If I get him, will you go out with me?” Fren joked as he too joined the triangle and pointed his rifle at Harvard.
“Fren focus. This guy seems to be trouble,” Brook condemned while he fired continuously at Harvard, who dodged them easily and returned fire, but Brook also dodged in kind.
“Don’t worry, I got this,” Fren replied laughing and fired at Harvard’s back, but he back flipped above the blast and fired at all three soldiers consecutively.
In the brief moment where Fren dodged his blast, Harvard pulled out a sabre, accelerated and almost stabbed him, but he was forced to stop in order to dodge Mosa’s well-aimed shot. The pause gave Fren enough time to retreat quickly, and their collective shots forced Harvard back to the centre of their triangle.
“Not bad,” he acknowledged when they seized fire and sized each other up. “You guys might just be worthy of salvation,” he said as he fingered his sword, but did not draw it. “Now then, let’s see which of you will be saved,” he laughed as he dashed towards them.
****
The party leading Rosaline snuck out of the castle through a secret tunnel in the basement whose initial purpose was to let the royal family escape in times of crisis.
After a very long trek, they climbed a flight of stairs and emerged through a trapdoor. Crow flew out unnoticed and saw they had come out in a hangar; the royal hangar, it presumed, from the royal emblems on the aircrafts.
