"I always up for a challenge. This war was getting boirng anyway, maybe fighting something besides other people will make sniping interesting again."

Alise was thrown into the room by a pair of naval security officers. She stood up purposefully, brushed herself off, and turned around, standing at attention although completely ignoring the open gashes across her eyebrow.

"Neg." she replied, "Space combat is the realm of AeroTech pilots. Mechs strapped to the sides of combat spacecraft are little more than glorified turrets."

She looked around, letting her obvious point set in, "Unless of course, they want to strike at a planetary target? I do not see why they need us with such powerful alien technology, considering they can easily cripple and destroy our mechs with dishonorable suborbital strikes."

Giving them all a rather wrathful look, she added, "And why are we already conceding defeat? You would rather fight and die for these American dogs rather than attempt to escape?"

Milo turned to Alise. "Of course not, but if you've got any better ideas, let's hear 'em."

Zwei shook her head, one of those rare moments when she actually made gestures. "I only choose death when Master tells me to choose death. I cannot make a decision until I hear what Master says."

Milo looked at Zwei. "You know, you really creep me out sometimes." He turned to Radchenko. "Do they really expect to bring the entire planet together? That's next to impossible. Some would rather die than carry an American flag. We - " He stopped mid-sentence. "Wait, how far away did you say this battle was? Something's not right here, I think..."

((More and more clan starts to show through. To me, they're an integral part of the mech genre.))

Alise tilted her head slightly and closed her eyes, turning around, "I do not suppose they will honor a trial of possession." she states, "Therefore, our only alternative is to either accept the American's proposal and serve as their bondsmen, or break out of this cell, kill the guards, and steal an AeroTech gunship from their launch bay."

"I refuse to submit to a foe who has yet to beat me in a test of cunning, only through sheer firepower."

Scott pulled out a bottle of aspirin. He popped a few and offered some to Alise.

"You need some of these. You're not making sense."

"Your forgetting who they are asking us to fight after we gather everyone together. If we don't get all the countries to band together, then the aliens sure will. But by then, it will be to late, so we have got to act now. You can fight then all you want yes, but with the technology they used to capture us, I wouldn't be surprised if you couldn't even make it out the door."

"That is what they say. It may very well be true, but one must take the facts into consideration." Alise continues, "This is a naval battle. The Americans have superior technology. We do not. Therefore, despite our "Experience" we are at a significant disadvantage, no?"

"Necessity matters not when practicality fails to deliver. Either the Americans will have to supply us with completely new mechs which function more like spacefaring vessels than mechs, and of which we are entirely nonproficient with, or we will be stuck clamped to the sides of their ships, sitting ducks for any counterattack. Most likely, is that we will be sent to assault an alien planet, vastly outnumbered by hostiles with superior technology."

"Either way, we *will* die. You must see this."

"I'll be fine, I'm used to fighting in all 3 dimensions."