"I say, this is becoming too much!"

Erica heard Kraglos before she saw him, engaged in a heated debate with Damon as she rounded the corner of the administrative building.

"I'm not about to take risks with the Diezens' remains," Damon stood up straight with arms crossed, "This is non-negotiable. Especially not after that stunt you pulled in your office."

The kroll muttered something under his breath before turning about and storming off back into the building. Erica wasn't sure if he'd seen her, but if he had he'd paid her no mind. Once Damon was sure he was free of Kraglos, he brought his matrix maigum up to his mouth and was issuing orders into it. While there were none here, Erica was certain that any Altean mechans in the city were already moving to secure the Diezens' remains. 

She walked up to Damon, keeping several paces distance as he was directing the Army. After about a minute he dropped the matrix, letting it bounce and dangle on its chain as he turned to face Erica.

"I see you made it through. Anything to report?"

"... I encountered one Diezen mechan that was about to lay into a retreating crowd, but managed to deal with it. However, not before it killed two guards during a running battle." Erica hesitated to begin, but figured it would be better just to get it done than to keep trying to figure out how to soften the blow.

Damon winced, but took a slow breath before continuing, "You did what you could. Had you not been there the damage would have been worse. Did you see a point of ingress for it?"

"No."

"Then we'll have to look for any survivors near manhole sites around the area..."

"Sorry, manhole sites?"

"Dirkland is a rather advanced city, it has a subterranean network of pipes and waterways to funnel waste from the city and help keep it clean. These systems are also the way the Diezens worked their way in without our notice until they used explosives on the service entrances, or manholes, to blast their way onto the street."

Erica looked at the cobbled ground she stood on momentarily before asking, "The Diezen I fought was different from normal. It had legs that shortened and extended to help it run, it was wearing equipment, it seemed to have a sense of greater purpose to its actions than their typical mechans. What was it?"

Damon uncrossed his arms, letting Erica see a few new holes in his coat's chest. "What you're describing lines up with reports I've received from our mechans. That type of Diezen mechan is a commando, as they've referred to themselves. More methodical, more cunning, better equipped and better built than line mechans, they do some of the more underhanded work for the Diezens, when their typical loud approach isn't conducive to their plans."

Erica peeled her eyes off of the holes in Damon's coat to look him in the eyes, "And what about Kraglos?"

Damon's eyes seemed to shift a couple shades darker at the question, "What do you mean?"

"Are we just going to let him get away with trying to force you to surrender altanite by holding me at gunpoint?! What are we going to do about him?"

Damon's eyes definitely shifted several shades darker at this point, "We are going to do nothing, because in order to continue our mission on Bladefell, we need his support."

"What?!"

"I don't like it either!" Damon snapped before calming himself, "I loathe the bureaucracy I need to wade through to save lives. But it is something thrust upon us that we have to contend with. I can only imagine how it felt to be on the wrong side of his gun, but being put in that position felt... violating."

His gaze had wandered to the floor as his fists clenched, "I couldn't protect you. It's twisted to be thankful for a Diezen attack, but had they not struck when they did, I would have been forced to give him what he wanted."

Erica's fury softened, "You did what you could, and you managed to salvage the situation in the end."

"It's not enough, it wasn't enough," Damon muttered, to himself or to Erica, she didn't know, "We still failed Dirkland. I still failed Dirkland."

"Hey," Erica stepped up and tugged on Damon's sleeve, "We can't change what happened. All we can do is try to not let it happen again."

Damon inhaled sharply, "I've been set to this impossible task for over three years now. Between Angor and his Diezens, it's taking me every ounce of power, every resource I have, to try to keep things from getting worse. Forgive me for getting bleak from time to time."

"You're being hard on yourself. No one else could do what you do to keep Tarsis from being killed off."

Damon kept his gaze firmly fixed on the ground. He said nothing for a time before raising his head and regarding Erica with eyes a few shades lighter than they had been, "We need to reconvene at headquarters, a bit too much has been happening lately and I need to address the other generals. I also need to introduce you to them, come to think of it."

"The other generals? Like Joshua?"

"Like Joshua, yes. Now come along, it's a long trip back from here."

The trip back to headquarters took five days by car with Dirkland being further north than Zellas or Copperwood. Erica was somewhat fearful of passing near her former home, but they either didn't pass nearby or she had slept past it while the mechan driver drove day and night. When they were finally back, Damon told Erica to get some rest while he finalized his own preparations for the meeting ahead. Having a fitful sleep plagued with nightmares of Copperwood and pointward Bladefell, she woke to a mechan knocking on her door.

"Master Damon requires your presence in the conference room," it said in its slightly modulated voice.

"Right," Erica resigned herself to her ill-rested fate and proceeded to wash up and get dressed. She decided that she didn't want her prosthetic on full display and so opted for full gloves instead of the fingerless ones she usually donned. Satisfied that she was as ready as she'd ever be, she made her way to the conference room, pausing outside the door.

She could hear voices. Mechans, talking aloud to each other, with different levels of modulation. That was odd, she thought, could they not communicate directly through each others' matrix maigums? She noted that she didn't hear Damon, but figured now was as good a time as any to enter.

Opening the door, she found five figures gathered around the oval steel table at the center of the room. Three very different mechans were positioned at the left and far sides of the table, with a person reclining with their back to her, feet on the table. A familiar longcoat was draped across the vacant seat to their left. They had long, shaggy brown hair that reached the small of their back, tied back with a red bandana. Metal greaves extended from combat boots onto black pants while metal forearm guards that also covered the backs of their hands went over a deep teal shirt. A blued curved saber was tucked into a maroon sash that served as a belt of sorts. 

The mechan to their right was predominantly brown in colour as opposed to the typical Altean tan. The undersides of its arms and legs had maroon sections on them. Its torso had a heavy metal plate bolted to it, a similar one covering what would be its lower face. A blank narrow black visor replaced the usual animated eye display of Altean mechans with a wide brimmed hat sitting just above its brow. Crossing its arms, it revealed a belt festooned with bullets and pouches, with a holster on each hip. Each held a revolver of some kind, the left one a lighter silver while the right one was a darker gunmetal colour. A lever action rifle with walnut wood furniture was slung across its back, a neutral gunmetal colour for its mechanical components.

The center mechan was a light blue, similar to the shirts Erica most commonly wore. Its form followed that of a typical Altean mechan, barring the fact that it was shaped like an approximation of a woman's body; wider hips, narrower waist, and a moderate chest were the first of their kind Erica had seen on a mechan. It had a belt that held a sheathed sword underneath the same brown longcoat that seemed to denote rank in the Army, worn open. Its eye display was yellow instead of the cyan of the rank and file mechans. The female mechan was standing behind her chair, hand on top of its back. A standard looking mechan stood behind her, feet planted shoulder width apart and hands clasped behind its back.

The final mechan was the most striking. It was seated in the oversized chair that sat at the leftmost end of the table, and was perfectly sized to do so. Easily the largest mechan Erica had seen, everything about it was huge. Its chest was angled to a broad point at the front, with a raised gorget protecting its fairly normal mechan head from blows from below. A raised metal collar was built in to shelter the head otherwise. Its eyes were also yellow like the blue mechan's. Lower arms and legs were over twice as wide as they should have been for the mechan's size, with hands and feet to match. The forearms and shins were also very square with cut-off corners, leaving them not quite octagonal. Its undoubtedly armoured frame was painted a deep crimson, save the hands and feet that were left in gunmetal grey. Massive squared shoulder pads with silver trim helped solidify its dominating silhouette. Metal plates akin to the ones on the first mechan were bolted to this one's legs, with a tabard in Altean tan and trimmed in silver hanging from the waist. Two hole-filled pipes stuck straight up from its back, spaced nearly as far apart as the shoulder guards would allow. A truly massive weapon was slung across its back, a nearly two foot long grip angled to its right jutting out from whatever was behind its back. An approximation of the brown longcoat was being worn open by the mechan, though it lacked sleeves and had to be worn open.

The mechans turned their heads as one to Erica when entered the room. The human sitting at the table turned, saying in a light masculine voice, "Hey, Daaaaaa-mon..." 

He was of fair skin and clean shaven, with sharp features that were twisted into a knot of confusion at the moment. He raised his eyebrows and blinked twice, "You, are not Damon."

"No," Erica confessed.

The brown mechan raised an accusatory finger at her and said in a deeply modulated voice, "Who in Mortemhiem are you?"

"My name is Erica, I joined a bit over a month back."

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence that befell them until the brown mechan burst out laughing, a harsh sound that Erica wished she did not have to hear. The mechan regained its composure and leered at her, "I'm not buying it, girlie. Damon never hires anyone since picking his ass up, so I suggest giving us back that coat and crystal you nicked and forget about this place."

"Oi!" The man looked back to the mechan, "Show me at least some respect, I'm the same rank as you."

"You really think I stole this stuff?" Erica asked, aghast. The man shrugged, the brown mechan nodded, the crimson mechan looked at her silently while the blue mechan seemed to be looking past her. "I just finished resting after an extended mission with Damon and this is how I'm greeted?"

"Hold on," the blue mechan raised a hand to the brown one, speaking in a calm, soothing tone, "records indicate that there was one Erica Blaine taken in after the Copperwood incident."

"Could be a coincidence," the man said noncommittally.

"There is no record of discharge from our care for this Erica Blaine."

"Everyone's here. Good." All eyes turned to the door as Damon entered the conference room, a ream of papers in hand. Erica stepped out of the way as quickly as she could as he strode up to the table. "Let's get this meeting underway."

"Ahh, ah ah ah! No!" The other man dropped his legs from the table, sitting up straight with his indignation, "Who in Mortemhiem is this? We aren't going anywhere with this meeting until that gets cleared up!"

Damon looked between the attendees with confusion, "Did I not tell you already?"

Silence.

Damon pinched the bridge of his nose, "Damn it all, and curse how busy I've been... Alright. Everyone, this is Erica Blaine, your newest colleague as a general of the Altean Army."

He gestured at Erica, who gave an awkward wave in turn. 

"What?!" The man and brown mechan exclaimed at once.

"Why's she here?" The man protested.

The brown mechan pointed at Erica's cheek, "Why do we now count a carved-up whelp among our number?"

Erica's hand went to cover her scar, but she stopped herself halfway. "Carved up? You don't know the half of it!" She shouted, ripping the glove off of her prosthetic hand and holding it up.

There was a pause before the man spoke up, "That's altanite alloy, you've replaced your hand?"

"I lost my arm up to the shoulder," Erica mimicked a cutting motion with her hand at the point her flesh gave way to metal and stone under her clothing, "Damon made this prosthetic for me while I was healing. How's that for carved-up?"

The man stood up and walked around Erica, keeping a respectful distance. He was a bit taller than she was, and when she could see his clothing from the front could see that he wasn't wearing a simple shirt. It was held together by a string laced across the front of his chest, a black shirt underneath visible through the gap between the teal. The garment continued past his waist, forming twin tails behind him. He got behind Erica and asked, "Wait, where's your maiga harness?"

"What would I need one of those for?"

"To power your prosthetic? Even experienced shapers will wear themselves out if they have to feed something in constant motion like that on their own."

"Well, I don't," Erica waved her prosthetic around, "I shape this arm around and use it as I would my original."

"Erica has a strange relationship with maiga, in that she charges up with use instead of wearing out," Damon said as he was sifting through the papers he had brought in.

"Wait, what?!" The man exclaimed as he went briskly back to his seat, "Do you know how insane that sounds?!"

"Now, if we're done with introductions-"

"Master Damon," the female mechan said politely, "have you explained to her who we are?"

"Of course, you're the Altean Army's generals."

"Yes, but does she know who is who?"

Damon exhaled sharply through his nose, "Probably not entirely. Alright. Erica, these are generals Joshua, the speedster, Jason, the marksman, Sasha, the tactician, and Kashii, the bastion."

Damon pointed from the man to the brown, blue, and crimson mechans in turn. Erica looked at each of them as they were indicated, trying to settle on how to respond before saying, "It's nice to meet you all."

Joshua shook his head, looking firmly at Damon, "You really couldn't have told us this any sooner, man?"

"If you wish to be as busy as I am and see how much time you could dedicate to keeping track of all of our intel, I could direct Sasha to feed you all the reports she receives and generates while sending you to the four corners of the globe?" Damon gave him a sidelong glance.

"Point taken."

"Now, can we finally get to the reason I've gathered all of you here today? Yes? Good." Damon gestured for Erica to take the seat between Joshua and Kashii. Joshua grabbed his coat from the chair as she reached it and sat down.

Joshua looked Erica up and down, settling on the pommel of her sword, "Another sword user, eh? I guess axes are kind of out of vogue."

"You can chit-chat later," Damon chided, "Now, to business. As you all know, Diezen activity has been on the rise as of late. They're making moves across the world, recently launching an attack at Dirkland itself. They're getting bolder. We have to step up our efforts in turn. Sasha, since the Watersteel event, how many Diezen attacks have we encountered?"

"Sir," Sasha inclined her head, "Since the Watersteel incident six days ago, we have had seventeen Diezen events across Tarsis. Of these, one was the commando action in Dirkland. Four more were unanswered by Altean forces until after their damage was done, and the remaining twelve were answered by Altean forces within an hour of their discovery. Casualties as a whole have been light, thankfully."

"Nearly three a day," Jason stated matter-of-factly. 

"Light casualties are still too many!" Damon slammed a fist against the table, "I understand that it isn't entirely attainable to keep everyone safe with the Diezen mission, but we are about the preservation of life. Every life lost is a blow to us. But enough of that. Diezens have been testing us for a long time now, but recently they've been, to be quite frank, audacious. They are throwing more mechans at us than we normally see. I'm not sure why this is the case, but they seem to be prodding our defenses, seeing what they can get away with. My concern is that Watersteel, or another attack like it, isn't their end goal."

"What are you thinking?" Kashii spoke up, a gentler voice with light modulation emerging from his hulking frame.

"That they have some goal in mind other than wanton death and destruction. I don't know what Angor is planning, but it can't be good. His appearance at Copperwood was surprising and concerning. We still don't know why he was hunting shapers there, but Sasha has been investigating since."

Erica shuddered at the mention of Angor at Copperwood, but a thought came to her. "Damon, I might know what they were after."

All eyes in the room shifted to her. Damon raised an eyebrow, "Well?"

"The Black Apostle, before we reached Watersteel, he recognized me and asked who I was. He came to the conclusion that I was a Copperwood survivor. But not just 'a' Copperwood survivor, I was 'the whelp from Copperwood' to him. A woman shaper short an arm with long brown hair. They know me. And they want me dead."

Damon had been maintaining eye contact with her the whole way through her insight until the word 'dead'. His eyes were then firmly on a spot on the table, Erica suspecting he was staring at Copperwood's spot on the map. Everyone else's eyes wander to him before he says, "They want you dead. I'm not sure they knew that the night of the attack, or you certainly would be dead now. You woke to your powers that night, so if they were looking for shapers they would not have known to look for you."

"I'm sorry, what?" Joshua blurted out in alarm, "She 'woke to her powers'? That doesn't happen! You're born with your aptitude for shaping, so if she wasn't a shaper before she shouldn't be one now!"

"She also shouldn't increase in power when shaping instead of wearing out, but here she is, doing so with every motion of her arm."

Joshua spun to stare at Erica again, his brown eyes shimmering with maiga. Erica matched his stare, daring him to look away. She started to funnel maiga through her arm, ramping up the amount surging through the stonework. Holding up her right palm, a ball of wind formed above the metal of her hand. Its pitch and size increased until she crushed it with her fist, dissipating violently into the room. Papers and coats blew about as she rested her arm on the armrest of the chair. Joshua, wide eyed, set his gaze dead ahead, "She really does ramp up instead of wear down. That's... terrifying."

"Erica's power is a great asset to anyone she sides with, and a great threat to those who stand against her," Damon continued, "Luckily, she sided with us. Angor attempted to recruit her before taking her arm. I still regret not being able to intervene before that had happened, but we just have to keep moving forward."

"So Angor's why she's part mechan now?" Jason piped up in his deep voice.

"Part what now?" Erica said incredulously.

"That arm's mechanical. Not sure if you know, but mechan is shorthand for mechanical being. Not sure what else to call you besides part mechan."

"Enough." Damon shushed the room, "Erica can discuss all this with you afterwards. Now, with Diezen activity on the rise, I have new assignments for you all. Sasha, you are to take a detail to Watersteel and reinforce our position there while maintaining your data management role. Kashii, you are being sent to pointward Flamehaven to see to it that the Diezens don't try something akin to what happened at Watersteel there. Joshua, you're going to pointward Bowpoint. Jason, to pointward Nuulhammer. The two of you will be doing the same as Kashii there. You are all to take command of the forces in your greater region and keep the Diezens from causing more damage."

"What about our anomaly here?" Joshua jerked a thumb at Erica, "I notice that all four pointward regions are covered and she has no assignment."

"Her training has mostly been around shaping and combat, less so command," Damon stated, "She still hasn't mastered her power, so I will need to keep a direct eye on her."

"I don't need a babysitter!" Erica protested.

"No, but you need someone who can handle an overload should it happen again. I am not about to send you out on your own just yet. Besides, your diplomacy training didn't exactly go to plan in Dirkland. So, you are to accompany me to a diplomatic mission to Durhelm."

"Wait, just us?" Erica asked.

"Us and a driver, yes." Damon confirmed.

A mischievous grin crossed Joshua's face, "Oh, so you're keeping her close, eh? You have been keeping her company this whole time without telling any of us. What's the real occasion for Durhelm? Honeymoon?"

Erica felt her face flush as she blurted out, "What?!"

Damon looked at the two of them with the beginning of confusion crossing his face, "There are matters I need to bring to Durhelm's Iron Council, but they will only allow me to speak with them at their quarterly ball. They will also only admit me with a living second, the fools, and I need Joshua at Bowpoint at this time."

Joshua rocked back in his chair, howling with laughter and clasping a hand over his eyes. Erica felt her face nearly burning as it turned bright red as he regained enough composure to say, "Ha, you might as well have just said you were going on a date! Ha! Ahahahaha!" He burst out laughing even harder when he glanced Erica's way.

Damon, clearly perplexed and annoyed, had to shout to be heard over Joshua's laughter, "Enough! You have your orders, I expect you to make what preparations are needed and depart within the hour. You are all dismissed."