Many apologies for the slow update and small chapter. It happens to be exam season at the moment.

Zeta awoke to find the hoverbuggy slowing. Blinked. Looked around the hoverbuggy, saw the four men with her. Something struck her.

"Hey," she mumbled through painkiller-numbed lips. "Weren't there five of you?"

"Hilt's in the boot," replied Bruce. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty shit," she grumbled, mind foggy and slow. "Are these smart painkillers?"

"Yeah, your AI told us you'd prefer them. I would have stuck you on some psychdust and let you sleep."

"Nah, I hate the stuff." She reached towards the seat in front of her, struggled against her seatbelt for a second. Managed to grab a hypodermic needle within a medical kit in the seat's pocket, switched the needle's payload for a yellowish liquid and injected it into her arm. The pain in her back and the feeling in her limbs began to return, her head began to clear.

"We have arrived at our destination," said Plus. Zeta opened the door on her side of the buggy and lurched out. Her jeans were still on; but her hoodie was nowhere to be found. Black underarmour covered her torso, scratches adorning its surface. She'd ordered the reactive armour only a month ago and never really needed it; now, holes filled its back. The four men inside the hoverbuggy opened their own doors; a fifth clambered out of the storage compartment in the back.

Zeta stretched and felt the fresh scars in her back before leading the men down a narrow side street.

"Plus," she said, "You there?"

"Affirmative."

"Park the buggy, please."

"Parking."

She stopped, in front of a small door built into one of the walls of the street. Knocked three times, paused a second, then knocked once.

The door swung open of its own accord, an electric motor whirring quietly in the background. She stepped inside. While the outside of the hideout indicated nothing special about the building, Snake had taken special care while building his 'home away from home'.

In the event that some other gang came to attack his main house, he could be out of the house and in a hoverbuggy zipping through the streets of Alpha within three minutes. In another five, he could be at any one of his four hideouts - each designed to be luxurious and impenetrable backup bases from which he could continue his black market operations. Zeta had only been able to open this door because one of the three cameras mounted outside had confirmed her identity. The outside walls appeared to be made from nuclear iron and concrete and were actually lined with three centimetres of composite ballistic armor. The undersides of the fake wood dinner tables was lined with borium, allowing the tables to be flipped on their side to serve as shields. The light bulbs could rotate and strobe to blind attackers. The second story of the hideout covered the two entrances - the door Zeta had just entered, and a sliding, bulletproof glass door to a small garden on the other side of the house.

Luxurious and impenetrable.

Her communicator buzzed.

"Hey," greeted Zeta, bringing it to her ear.

"Hi- fuck, Zeta! What happened?!" gasped Snake.

She glanced behind her at the camera mounted above the doorway. "Got shot in the back a few times. Feeling a little better now."

"I can get a doctor to have a look at -"

"Nah, I'll be fine." She waved at Bruce and his soldiers, inviting them inside.

"So these are the mercs you told me about," said Snake. "Which one's the Pilot?"

"The one in front," replied Zeta. "Look, Snake. We need to lay low for a day or two. That's okay, right?"

"Knock yourselves out. Food's in the fridge, you can see the kitchen from where you are. Guest bedrooms are upstairs, pool table and guns are in the basement. Do not go into my room and don't touch my Forerunners 2 save. We clear?"

"Snake, I don't even know what Forerunners 2 is."

"Its… its a simulator game -"

Zeta rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I'll probably just sleep… anyway, thanks for the help, Snake."

"Don't mention it. I'll see you later, Zeta."

"You too."

Zeta ended the call, slipped the communicator back into her pocket.

"Guest rooms are upstairs, guys. Make yourselves at home."

Bruce nodded. "Okay, I'll make contact with the Shikinami. Hilt, explore the house. Make sure it's secure. Zeta, is there anywhere we can store our weapons?"

"Yeah, downstairs in the basement."

"Gauntlet, check our weapons. Cornerstone and Crossguard, you can get some rest. Zeta, I'm not your superior or anything… but if I were you, I'd get some sleep."

Zeta glanced at the time on her communicator's screen. "18:12, huh? I think I will. Good night, everyone."

She began to walk up the fake wooden stairs -

"Aw, fuck," muttered Bruce. "Your orders? Copy that. Seven hours, I think. Wilco. Bruce out." He turned to Zeta. "I've got some bad news, Zeta."

"What now?" she asked, head turning, hand on the handrail.

"The Militia know that our starship's here, and they've got their railguns pointed at us. We can't warp out without them firing at us. We've been ordered to stay where we are and await further orders."

"Shit," Zeta muttered. "Well, what can we do?"

"We can wait. We can negotiate. We've got a trump card up our sleeves, we just need to wait before it gets here."

"What do you mean?"

"Lets just say we've got reinforcements. We'll stay here tonight, but my soldiers and I need to be ready to go it a moment's notice. This might be the last time we see each other."

Her heart sank. "Really? Why?"

"If we get an order during the night, we'll have to go immediately."

"No. You wake me up and I'll come with you."

"Zeta, you're injured -"

"I was a Pilot," she smiled, though tired eyes. "I'm used to dealing with it."

"Zeta, if you don't mind me asking, why are you helping us?"

Silence. Then, she turned. Sat down on the stairs.

"When I was 120 kilohours old the Titan wars were just beginning to die down. The New Tokyo military got cocky and one of their fleets jumped into an ambush. Would have gone okay if the jump technician hadn't of panicked. Instead of waiting it out, suffering a few blows and jumping back to safety the technician told the fleet to jump before it had finished turning around. Next thing you know, the fleet's gone along with an entire moon out in the Polaris system.

So the generals back at New Tokyo decided they needed to train some new Pilots. They did lose fifty of them aboard the Yamato. They turned to the schools of Ichi Toshi - our 'Alpha', if you will. One Colonel showed up at my school. Saw me doing gymnastics and drafted me into Pilot training.

Of course, my parents said yes. They didn't have a choice. It is an honor to serve as a Pilot. So I went off to train in New Beijing, because of the treaty there."

Bruce was silent, so Zeta continued.

"Soon enough I'm 175 kilohours old, veins loaded with stimulants and drugs, mind filled with countless hours of training and theory. The call came out. There was a riot in Shì èr - ah, 'Beta City' in New Beijing. Guerrilla soldiers, desperate to prolong the Titan wars, had attacked a district, and the people were trying - trying to climb the walls into the next district, to get away... I was called in with nineteen of my squadmates. To kill everyone, rioting civilians and guerrillas alike.

And I did. We did. Those were orders. I crush - crushed - a fam - a fami - fam -"

Zeta grunted, coughed. "A family," she spat, "under my feet." She laughed, a sad laugh that sounded more like a snort. "They didn't scream. If they did, I didn't hear them. I mean, I barely felt the crunch in the cockpit."

Her head drooped, her fists clenched.

"After the massacre we went back to the training camp. The higher ups congratulated us. Well done, they said. Your first mission! What a success! They clapped and this general gave a speech. It was the Colonel. The one who had drafted me, the one who ripped me from my family, who'd given the order to wipe the district to see if we were ready, who'd called me into his qua-"

She scowled for a second, eyes staring at the stairs full of rage as she grit her teeth.

"In any case," she growled. "He'd been promoted. And as he stood there, I decided I'd had enough. Enough of the bullshit, the tests, the experiments. That night he called for me again, and I came. And I shot the bastard's dick off, watched him bleed out. 10 hours, Bruce. That's all that had passed since the massacre. I was a Pilot for 10 hours and then I legged it.

Now, you ask me why I want to help you. Because every single government that's out there is fucked. The Asian Coalition? Fucked. The Militia? Fucked. I imagine the UN back on Earth is fucked. Venice 3 is about to get fucked by the Militia. The IMC's fucked too, except they're less fucked than the rest. They do their shit by the book, and if anyone can bring order to these frontier rocks its them. They've got the strength and they've got the technology. That's why."

"Zeta," began Bruce, "the IMC isn't perfe-"

"They're better than the rest," growled Zeta. "Besides, where else am I supposed to go? They probably know it was me who broke you out of prison. I'm going to bed now. If you get the call tomorrow, wake me up."

"Six Titans," said Rimjob, pointing with both Human and Titan hands over the south-east wall of the airfield. "No Paladins this time."

"Titan classes?" asked Jack, flicking his eyes upwards, enabling his Ogre's radar display. "Three Atlas, three Stryders. Although..."

"I'd say four Atlas; that signature at the back'll be bigger than it looks. It's moving at Atlas speed. Wait, hold on. Is that-"

"A seventh heat signature," mused Jack. "Far too small to be a Titan."

"Some sort of armoured car," muttered Rimjob. "For enemy infantry."

"Great," growled Jack. "IMC infantry, come in," he said, tapping a button on his gauntlets. "There are six enemy Titans and one unidentified armoured vehicle approaching. Take cover, find somewhere safe to hide. I want Aisling, Bonerhead and Phillip sheltering it the hardpoint. I want five soldiers in there guarding them and the hardpoint. The rest of you, make it rain archer heavy rockets. Rim, you're on the armoured vehicle. Shoot the driver, shoot the occupants when they come out. Set your Autotitan to follow me. Danniek, I want you to take those Stryders down ASAP."

"Gotcha."

"They'll be breaking through the wall surrounding this airfield any moment now, but we'll only see them when they come around that cruiser," said Jaggerjack, metal arm motioning to the enormous starship lying on the ground, five times taller than each Titan. Beside the cruiser lay a multitude of Corvettes, Frigates and Destroyers, available for purchase.

"We can use the destroyers as cover," he contined, Jaggerjack the Ogre taking a step forward towards a destroyer lying on the asphalt. Crouched behind it.

"Heat sensors say they just broke through the wall," muttered Rimjob the Human, Titan form moving towards a destroyer of his own. "Sid, follow Jaggerjack."

"Follow mode initiated on allied Pilot."

"Jack, the enemy heat signatures have breached the wall surrounding the airfield. They're behind the cruiser now. We'll have LOS in ten seconds."

"Gotcha."

Rimjob the Atlas pulled its XO-16 into firing position, aimed it at the edge of the carrier. Rimjob the Autotitan followed suit.

"Five seconds," counted Rimjob. "Four. Three. Tw- THERE!"

Six titans - four Atlas-class and one Stryder-class - stepped out from behind the cruiser, leaned forward and sprinted, metal feet shaking the ground from 400 metres away. A small armoured vehicle trailed behind them, hidden in a mass of Titan legs.

Then the firing started.

A deafening volley of railgun, 40mm and chaingun rounds erupted from the six IMC Titans. A second later the enemy fire arrived, tearing holes in the asphalt and ricocheting off Titan bodyshields.

"Critical damage," said Danniek's AI sweetly. "Please, take care of yourself."

Danniek the Titan hastily ducked behind the Destroyer it had been using as cover, allowed its shield systems to suck in ions from the atmosphere, replenishing its shield reserves. His Autotitan was not so lucky, armour dented, punctured and melted, legs flaming.

"ARCHERS! FIRE!" roared Jaggerjack, slowly retreating behind a destroyer of his own, dropping a spent magazine from his plasma railgun, slamming a replacement into its slot.

A volley of archer heavy rockets screamed through the air and impacted against the hull of the closest enemy Stryder, now just 200 metres away. The Stryder tripped, and for a second it looked as if it could recover before Rimjob the Atlas headbutted it and fired a burst of chaingun fire directly into the Stryder's torso and it exploded.

"One down!" he roared, grin wide on his Human face.

"ONE DOWN," bellowed Rimjob the Atlas, legs coated with some unknown red liquid. "YOU ARE NEXT."

"Warning. Taking fire," announced Jaggerjack's AI. Jaggerjack's screen flashed, returned to the camera feed from the Ogre he manned. Red damage indicators flashed from below, and he looked down to see the enemy armoured vehicle at his feet. The seventh heat source took the form of a Samson-class Assault truck, the damage took the form of a man spraying his legs with fire from a chaingun mounted on the Samson's roof.

"WARNING. ENEMY VEHICLE MUST POWER DOWN OR FACE IMMEDIATE DESTRUCTION," bellowed Jaggerjack the Ogre, kicking the vehicle onto its side, tossing the soldier manning the turret away from the truck.

The remaining five enemy Titans arrived at the destroyers and took cover. A lone cluster missile caught Jaggerjack's Autotitan, dropping it to half of its hull integrity.

"Rim, retreat to us," ordered Jaggerjack. "The Samson's down."

"Gotcha," replied Rimjob the human as Rimjob the Atlas activated its vortex shield and began to retreat.

Aisling peered out a window of the hardpoint building, trying to see the chaos unfolding just outside. She was only two stories high; the destroyers were too tall for her to see over.

Her gaze wandered elsewhere.

The enemy Pilots will probably be trying to get to this hardpoint and shut it off if they can, she thought, but if they get desperate they'll probably just shoot the radar dish on top of this building. Kodai command is probably treating this as some sort of test.

And just like that, she saw it.

The Samson Assault truck.

It had a chaingun mounted on the top.

That's probably mounted to a universal rotating mounting port.

"Nathan!" she yelled over the gunfire, "You know the radar dish on this hardpoint?"

"The one that's keeping us connected to the Shikinami?"

"Think we could mount it atop the Samson? If that Samson's linked into Kodai's network, we could use it as a mobile hardpoint! Beats waiting for the dish to get shot!"

Author's note:

Yesterday, a friend of mine who can't stand losing got into an argument with me. He claimed that not many people read SecondConquest, and that the ~150 page views I get each time I post a chapter are because of people browsing the Titanfall subreddit and clicking out of curiosity.

To prove him wrong, I need you to do me a favor. Look down below. There's a box for reviews. If you enjoy SecondConquest, PLEASE leave a review. It doesn't matter what it says, as long as you leave one. You don't have to be logged in to leave a review.

I've done a plan for the next five chapters ahead of time, so hopefully the next chapter won't take so long.

Thanks for reading!