_In the middle of West Verne Express way

The silver phantom was fast. 

Almost disgustingly so. 

It flitted past the two mechs with incredible agility, harassing them with suppressive fire from the weapon it wielded. 

The said weapon was also clearly not designed to be fired while unmounted, but the silver silhouette seemed not to care. To make things worse, the energy projectiles fired from it were accurate and packed quite the punch - having the ability to burn a hole through the mechs energy barriers with three or four well placed shots - quickly putting the remaining two Grisham units on the defensive.

The pilot of the lead unit thought continuing to tangle with it wasn't worth all the trouble, and made a prompt decision. He immediately relayed his instructions to the other remaining Grisham unit.

"I'll deal with this thing Ghost 2. Prioritize securing the target and rendezvous with Squad Beta on Point 3A, then wait for pickup."

"...Got it sir." came the curt reply.

After relaying his commands, the pilot of the lead unit braced himself and focused his attention on the silver silhouette, fully intent on holding it down.

He was inwardly quite surprised. The thing was way too high spec for it to just be a new powered suit prototype fielded by the Confederation Intelligence Bureau. It was uncharacteristically thin for one, but he still suspected it to be a full fledged EX-Frame originally developed for military use.

He grinned in self derision at the thought. Here he was, fighting in a retrofitted 2nd Gen rust bucket, while the Confederation dogs were sporting cutting edge tech and running them ragged.

Sure, they were deep behind enemy lines, and were originally tasked with infiltration and sabotage. Getting their hands on the latest Emperium gear was somewhat of a luxury for them. But still...

He couldn't even identify its propulsion system. It was too thin looking to house any conventional boosters. In fact, it didn't look like it was flying, but was  running in mid air instead.

His mech's FCS couldn't keep up with the thing's mobility and erratic movement patterns. 

If that's the case, then he'd just quit trying to go for a clean hit altogether.

He engaged his mech's boosters and placed himself firmly in between his subordinate's mech - which was now heading straight towards the stalled van - and the silver assailant.

"Eat this, bastard!"

He switched his weapons over to full auto and unleashed an unrelenting barrage. It would be great if he gets to down the goddamn thing with this mucho. But keeping it occupied until his subordinate manages to capture the target and gets away would be an acceptable outcome as well.

His weapons continued to roar out. Pulse laser fire, solid AP rounds and frag grenades blasted the area around them to smithereens. He checked the rear camera feed and saw his subordinate making way to the stalled vehicle unhindered.

"So far, so good." he muttered under his breath. 

But then—

A silver flash launched through the air.

It dodged the weapons fire by kicking off the void through seemingly invisible footholds with fluid, almost feral grace.

The sight had a sense of primal beauty to it - like a well choreographed dance - leading the Grisham pilot to hold his breath in astonishment.

He soon managed  to snap awake from his stupor, refocusing on attacking the enemy before him with a more concerted effort.

But it was all to no avail.

The enemy had managed to close in on him in mere moments; planting its feet squarely on top of his mech's energy barrier - with a clear shot on the torso section which housed the cockpit.

It stood on the barrier as if it was on top of solid ground. An ominous blood red glow suffused the front end of the weapon in the silver EX-Frame's hands.

"Heh." the Grisham pilot snorted. "Well, ain't this rich." he spat with a voice filled with unwillingness.

The red glow intensified.

The pilot gazed at the silver silhouette intensely, as if to burn its image in his mind.

"Nice job, lady." he uttered while grinning defiantly.

His vision was then flooded with an ocean of vivid crimson.

***

The pilot code named Ghost 2 clenched his teeth in anger after hearing something loudly crash down from behind him. He hadn't checked the rear camera feed in the corner of the cockpit screen to confirm, but he was certain his unit captain had fallen in battle.

He was utterly furious. 

But he knew this wasn't the time to wallow in his rage. He had a mission, and he would accomplish it no matter what. He owed his fallen comrades at least that much.

There were only a few more meters before he would reach his target. He had to do this fast, before that silver demon manages to get in his way. 

He'd already given it a quick thermal scan earlier, and had confirmed that there were still two passengers staying inside the vehicle. He didn't know why they hadn't chosen to flee on foot while he and his squad leader were engaging that silver bastard, and neither did he care.

Besides, this made things simpler. He just needed to get the entire van, rip out its engine to prevent anymore untoward incidents, and get to the rendezvous point as fast as he could. As his mech readied its manipulator arms for a quick grab and dash—

*bang

A sudden heavy impact knocked his mech out of balance and made it crash down on the broken road pavement in an ungainly manner.

Ghost 2 had just managed to get his mech back up, only to find a dark blue silhouette gradually revealing itself after disengaging its active camouflage system.

It stood almost as tall as the Grisham mech he was currently piloting. Its overall build exuded both elegance and brutality. It only held a single monomolecular saber on its left manipulator arm, but the sense of intimidation Ghost 2 felt from it was overwhelming. It was a true, cutting edge, third generation Tactical Frame.

Ghost 2 knew he was at a major disadvantage. The silver devil was one thing, but the addition of a 3rd Gen TF was akin to sealing all paths of retreat for him. He momentarily moved his tense gaze towards the side of the cockpit monitor and saw something unexpected.

The silver silhouette was just standing stock still with its arms crossed over its chest some distance away. On its feet lay the weapon it used to shoot down his comrades earlier. The body of the weapon was letting out plumes of black smoke. It seemed to have overheated.

But, instead of feeling relief, Ghost 2 was incensed. "Just how much are you looking down on us? You bunch of damned Confederation dogs!" he muttered through gritted teeth.

He resolved himself to take advantage of their blatant underestimation and readied his mech. But before he could execute any manoeuvre—

"Uh, sorry mate. I know you're pissed and all, but seriously, this just ain't your day." a playful voice echoed out from the outer speakers of the enemy mech.

The dark blue figure suddenly vanished from his perception.

And the world was dyed in red.

***

Nightingale watched on as her partner, Gibbs, code named Shadowfox, split the Grisham in two with his XTF-2A Mistral 3rd Gen Tactical Frame. She whistled in astonishment at its performance.

"Damn. These new toys from the military sure are amazing. Even a dunce like you can pull something like that off. Color me impressed." she teased through the comms. The Mistral then walked towards her with a steady gait.

"C'mon sis. Can't ya give a guy a break for once? That was all me y'know." came the annoyed reply. It was the voice of a frivolous sounding young man.

"Whatever." Nightingale snorted. "What took you?" she then asked.

"Had to clean up another squad deployed on the Northwest." the young man answered. "They keep popping up like mushrooms after the rain. Nah, screw that. They're more like cockroaches! Just how many did the Emperium manage to smuggle in? Good thing they aren't too skilled in a fight, or we would have been in more trouble." he complained indignantly.

"Less ranting. More work. You'll get your bonus easier that way." Nightingale replied dismissively.

"You did manage to keep one alive for interrogation right?" the young man inquired.

Nightingale jerked her head back and gestured towards the damaged Grisham sprawled on the tarmac. It was the lead unit. Its torso had a hole melted through it, which narrowly avoided the cockpit.

"Great! Now the Chief won't have any reason to chew us out. Uh... Other than you breaking another expensive piece of equipment I guess." the young man exclaimed. 

Nightingale looked at the smoldering housing of the Genion cannon and sighed.

***

I had my jaw down on the floor the entire time the engagement was taking place. I was made completely speechless. Uncle Hal and his men were crazy. They were utter lunatics!

"Just who the hell are you guys, Uncle?" I asked Uncle Hal, who currently has his left palm covering his face while sighing in frustration. I seem to have heard him mumbling "Just how am I supposed to explain to the tech guys? Sure I kinda knew this would happen, but come on..." under his breath.

"Um, Uncle?" I prodded him once more.

"Huh? Oh. Uh... Like I said earlier Ryuu, we're part of the CIB. Specifically, we're the Special Tactical Response Team. Nice to be working with you son." he finally replied and stretched out his right hand.

I shook it involuntarily, not knowing what other forms of craziness the future had in-store for me.

***

—Grigwald City / Office building rooftop

A middle aged man with tired looking eyes was taking a smoke while leaning on a section of the railings surrounding the rooftop's edge.

The door behind him opened, and a young office lady came out.

"Sir, the mission has failed. All Ghosts have been eliminated. The target has been secured by the CIB. We've also detected movement within the buildings next to ours. They'll be conducting a raid on us soon." she reported.

"You know what I hated the most about this assignment, Sara?" the middle aged man spoke.

"What sir?" the young lady inquired.

"The fact that I won't ever get to taste cigarette brands from the Emperium anymore. Confederation brands suck." he answered nonchalantly.

The young woman chuckled in amusement. She gave the middle aged man a dazzling smile. "It was a pleasure working under you sir." she stated. Her body then disintegrated and scattered in the wind.

"See. Confederation brands really do suck." the man murmured to no one in particular. He took one last puff, then vanished along with the billowing smoke.