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GO, DESOL! GO!!
Rage seemed to pump through the machine like an insane bull. The fiery engines roared and swift speed and skating motions caused Desolation to tear across the ground, with a tenacity unseen by most of these other mech pilots. The obsidian figure skated hard, banking to the right to dodge an incoming missile, which whizzed past the suit and erupted in a massive fireball. Blades raked into the mountain sides as the figure pulled a crossover, leg-over-leg and seemed to slingshot off the curvature of the rock formation, racing harder.

Mute, the target is being pulled away. What should we do?

Dammit! We don't have time to snipe the dregs!
Coming off the bank of the hill, the machina unit Desol preformed an aerial side-flip that allowed her to cross over top of a pursuing unit, that exploded. It seemed almost voluntarily. During the mid flip, the primal katars were unsheathed and the figure was sliced in two, still five more after him and the convoy was taking the cargo away. Mute could be heard roaring within and the vocals seemed to have Desol act wildly, almost a boosted levels for the machine's psyche. With a wild, horizontal spin, on the round-about turn one of the katars was hurled at blinding speed, crossing the distance like a perfect shot and taking out one of the four cables that attached this precious cargo inside, however the carrier still hauled onward -- sending back one of the dreg drones to lift the drooping end with the nose of the micro-jet.

Another dreg who was assisting the get away turned and another missile was fired. The inbound flashed over Mute's HUD and he didn't care about this, whipping the second blade through the air, which hit the second rear cable and snapped it clean in two, sticking into the belly of the carry all and explosions roared around the container. The second snap, swung the cargo container downward forcefully, shoving the assisting dreg into the ground with a ripe, metallic ball of gassy flames.

SIR!!
The missile neared and unfortunately for Desol and Mute -- it wasn't at all a missile, but a multi-staged rocket. Throwing her hands forward, Desol's palm verniers reacted almost to Mute's thoughts and the rocket seemed to be subdued by the pressure and bend. Following the hands, that made a thruster arc, the rocket nearly made it completely around the loop to sling-shot back at the container when it staged in Desol's face, destroying the head unit, the HUD, and nearly the entire pilot cabin.

MMMMUUUUUTTTTTTE---------
The lights dimmed and then all the interiors sprang on, and illuminated a path to exit the chamber. Mute stood slowly, hissing and shook his head walking out of the chamber. He slapped his leg as the door opened and a catwalk was revealed and he moved out of the training simulator, breathing heavily. He stopped to look across the way, no more than 500 feet across from him was Desolation, tied up into the simulator as well, however her head turned away when Mute came out to look at her -- ashamed.

Mute sighed and shook his head at her, as if saying it wasn't her fault and then walked into the command room where three men stood, all brass.

Link the boy to his unit, please. One of the commanding officers said as they sat down. Surrounding the men and Mute in this room was massive monitors and televisions, all displaying Markas Desch's file. A hand full of the other monitors were displaying various points of view from units that were in the combat with him, as well as Desolation's performance and statistics. Mute looked around slowly and then took the appointed seat that he was offered with a sigh and a lowered head.

Son, what is the matter.

Forgive me, sir. I have failed this simulator mission.
He hadn't failed any of the other simulations before this one. There had been many in the past that had accomplished this feat as well, and all had done so greatly out of CTU Tech, however none of them -- unknown to Mute, had met with these three men after this skirmish.

And why did you fail this mission, Markas?

I'm not sure, honestly -- sir. I played it all by the books. I did everything accordingly. I even bypassed enemies -- against protocol to stop the carrier. Hell, I even unarmed myself against protocol in the face of destruction and still I failed.
I did everything I possibly could, but the carrier seemed like it was set to be faster than I was to start.

I ... I'm sorry.

These are all excuses. Truth is, Desolation and I didn't make it because we weren't fit enough. We'll be ready, next time -- I swear it.
The three men looked to one another and then the man who had been speaking, stifled a laugh and shook his head slowly. Mute couldn't decipher the man. What he was thinking and the way he laughed, almost sounded mocking, but at the same time -- an exasperated astonishment. Markas looked to the other two men and the larger one seemed to have been sweating, though the room was well conditioned. He frowned to this and the bald superior spoke again.

Son ... there are no more tests. However, before Mute's wide-eyed expression could protest, the man cut in.

There are no more -- because we believe your training is complete. The mission ... no one has ever touched the container, aside from the few people who accidentally blew it up -- or took out the carry-all and it fell, crushing the unit's contents. Truth is Mute -- It wasn't made to be beaten, but to end you training with a failure. You need to know how it feels. Everyone does.

But you ... my boy, you fought for the mission. And you did everything against our rules and almost took it out, that's why you've already been assigned. You leave at 0500 hours. Pack up...