Ukko swiveled his core again but had to fire the shot off early at risk of the power canister going critical. He used the opportunity to lower the power of the shot and extend the duration. He swept the gold-tinted beam across the entire dust cloud, leaving a trail of cleared up skyline where the kicked-up sand and dirt was vaporized.

            Another salvo from the Vice Admiral screeched by. This salvo, however, landed too far east. She wouldn’t make a mistake like that though…

            Above.

            She was aiming at an airborne target.

            By the time Ukko realized this, even though it only took fractions of a second, it was too late to try to get another shot off. He ejected his rifle and brought the makeshift shield arm up and extended the embedded sword on his left arm. He brought them both up in an X in front of himself as a massive axe made up of a blade and two gears hit him with all the force of God himself.

            Long yet slim propellant tanks protruded out of the back of the MAC, making it look a bit like a porcupine. Each quill-shaped canister had a bright blue flame lighting up the back. The guy must have used one of his propellant tanks as a decoy to confuse Ukko on that first shot.

            The machine was simple lines all the way through. The focus was on speed and striking first. The dark purple machine that seemed to look like the cosmos in motion had nothing more than a simple number painted on the exterior ‘8’. All in white and plastered on the upper right thigh.

            The two gears on either end of his axe blade started to turn as the blade struggled to cut through Ukko’s shield arm.

            The combined weight of the MAC and sheer power of its boosters had sunk Ukko’s legs deep into the sand. He was trapped.

            The gears crunched into his arm armor and stopped, but only for a moment. They began to grind through the reinforced plates, slowly pulling away chunk after chunk and feeding them past that massive axe blade.

            Ukko had to do something.

            He retracted the sword on his left arm. He tried to ease his left arm away from supporting his shield arm, but every inch he pulled back was an extra inch the enemy gained, slowly bringing him closer to digging that axe and those gears into Ukko’s cockpit.

            He had to be quick. It would have to be one singular motion if this had any hope of working.

            He pulled back his left arm entirely and followed up immediately by pressing it straight up against his shield arm’s hand.

            The wrist joint started to buckle, nearly snapping in two from the pressure. The axe also managed bite deeper into his arm, now only a hairsbreadth away from the cockpit.

            Ukko remained as calm as he could. He needed to think clearly. The sweat had now drenched him and his controls. The sound of cracks splintering his teeth as he clenched his jaw tighter and tighter threatened to distract him; to cause a lapse in judgement.

            But somehow, he managed not to screw it up. He flipped a switch that extended his blade again and watched as it shot straight through his own machine’s hand and directly toward the enemy MAC’s core.

            But the House Keeper was quick. Ukko was sure that these damn House Keepers had to be cheating somehow. Nobody can move like that.

            But, nonetheless, the enemy MAC shifted some of the boosters on its back, pivoting them in their sockets, and managed to shoot itself up and back.

            Ukko’s sword had severed some cables on the machine’s right leg and, thanks to that thin armor, it looked like he did some decent damage.

            Of course, hurting the leg of a MAC that seems to be focused on flying probably didn’t help as much as he hoped it would.

            And, as he took a few breaths to tally up the score, he reluctantly admitted being half buried, without his rifle, and with a chewed up right arm probably meant he was losing.

            But he wasn’t fighting alone.

            Another explosion, as if the Earth were breaking in two, bounced around endlessly inside his metal cockpit. Twelve burning boulders of metal flew in a straight line, leaving a red-hued streak of light in the night sky as they passed by like meteors.  

            All twelve shots missed as the House Keeper burned more propellant to boost out of the way of the only round that nearly hit him.

            But Ukko had seen this before. The Vice Admiral usually kept her distance, so her rounds always rained down from the sky. But when her rounds came flying straight past, it was clear that she was charging the enemy.

            Contrary to the massive size of her machine, it was one of the quickest MACs around. The massive boosters, though obvious targets, easily brought her to supersonic levels when she activated a power canister.

            The silver beast approached like a bird of prey. Its twelve main guns were spread out to both sides like the wings of a raptor.

            Although she was fast, she wasn’t very maneuverable. She spread her cannons like that to cast a wide net, obviously hoping to make some sort of contact with the enemy.

            This wasn’t the ideal plan, not by any estimation, but Ukko went with the flow. He ripped off his left arm, the arm with the embedded sword, and brought it up like a javelin. His right arm should still be able to handle this much.

            The Vice Admiral barely managed to clip the House Keeper’s machine. The House Keeper was quick and agile, but those fuel tanks were just too long. The pilot was skilled and he managed to purge the canister almost immediately, but the damage was already done. His porcupine of a MAC started to spin from the force of impact.

            Somehow, in a feat most would know is impossible, he managed to use the spin and his own speed to bury his axe into the Vice Admiral’s back. The gears, still spinning, were chewing through her machine as she passed by and continued to chew even after the House Keeper let go of the weapon that was now embedded in the Vice Admiral’s machine.

            The makeshift javelin arm had already been thrown by this point and all Ukko could do was trust that it struck true while the House Keeper was still recovering from that spin. For now, the Vice Admiral was the priority. He had no plans on letting both of his best soldiers die today, especially not her. He focused intently on the cord that was plugged into his eye socket.

            The direct connection should be enough to let him control his MAC remotely, though not for long. He used the regular controls to dig his left hand into the chest of his metal monster. As if ripping out the heart, he gripped the cockpit and gouged it out, sending a shower of cords and metal shards raining down to the ground.

            The connection between his controls and the machine was now completely severed, he had to rely on his ability to move it mentally.

            It hurt Ukko.

            It was a hot, searing pain that lanced through his eye socket and soaked into his skull. The bone housing for his eye felt as if it was fracturing in a million different places, each microscopic crack finding its way to another and threatening to splinter the bone entirely apart. He felt himself being lifted, higher and higher above the head of his MAC.

            His brain was thinking strange thoughts. The MAC felt so distinct and different, like a living breathing organism, while he himself felt less and less real. Ukko was coming to a realization. At this point, he was less a human and more a processor. A component, no, an organ of this demon.

            Blood poured from his face. It streamed from his ears, nostrils, eyes, and even pores.

            One more push, thought Ukko, just one more push.

            And then, after a sudden increase in the g-force that streaked the blood across his face rather than it pouring down, he was flying.

            The mental connection was completely severed.

            An audible and yet entirely self-contained ‘snap’ emanated from his head.

            The flight didn’t last long. The cockpit was built well and he survived the landing. He pressed the button that popped open the lid and dragged himself out of the box while still screaming in pain.

            He didn’t know where the strength to even move was coming from, but he was sure that if he woke up tomorrow, he would probably be wishing he died here.

            His aim was true and he landed right next to the Vice Admiral’s MAC. The axe had dug deep into the back of her machine before finally stopping when it hit the main gun housings. The main generator of her MAC was stored in the bottom half, so there was no risk of it going critical, but the cockpit was stored directly between the two big double-stacked gun emplacements.

            Ukko dragged himself up the sporadic handholds and metal ladder rungs that covered the machine. The pain was immense, but he was a man possessed. His screaming voice had gone silent as his mind honed in on his singular goal.

            Ukko had no desire to lose her.

            None.

            He coughed blood, staining the beautifully simple silver armor, but he didn’t stop climbing.

            He reached the cockpit and punched in a code that ejected the main armor covering. The gust of air nearly blew Ukko off the machine and to his death, but he held tight.

            Ukko’s heart went cold. The blade of the axe glinted in the back of cockpit, cutting straight across. The silver moonlight that glinted off the sharpened metal illuminated the scene.

            He reached toward the Vice Admiral, the little girl that had no business on the battlefield and yet also nowhere else to call home.

            He stopped short of touching her cheek, taking a moment to wonder why he had to survive all this.

            But his thoughts were interrupted, “Did we win?” Her voice was clearly frightened.

            Ukko had an insane thought to hug the girl, like a father might. He shook his head, splattering drops of fresh blood around her cockpit, and smiled, “I haven’t checked.”

            “Sometimes,” she choked back a sob, “sometimes I think you’re bad at this.” She tried to smile.

            Ukko realized she wasn’t afraid of what she just went through. She had become used to battle after all. She was afraid of what had happened to him. He supposed being saved by your mentor who was bleeding from every pore on his face, staining his graying hair and beard, would be a bit horrifying. He leaned back out of the cockpit, appreciating the cool breeze that was starting to blow across the sandy expanse. In the distance he saw the House Keeper’s machine. It was kneeling down on top of a sand dune with a sword, Ukko’s sword, stuck in its chest. It was still lit up by that blue light from its thrusters. “Shit, I think we actually did it…”

            The little girl had already started to climb up out of her cockpit and sit on one of the metal arrays of the radar head, “So, does this mean we’re getting that raise Admiral?” She shouted down at him, clearly feeling better now that Ukko had calmed down and started trying a bit harder to hide his pain.

            “Well, if things go as planned, I’m thinking maybe. Sixty percent chance sounds about good.”

            Ukko looked up at the little girl on her perch, still too worried about her. The moon and stars seemed to welcome her all too gratefully up there. She looked down at him, smiling widely, “Shit.”