Back by popular demand, it's Grimsley!

Chandana gave out an almost inhuman screech and reached down to her side for her small pistol as she saw Grimsley crush the communicator. The young soldier rolled to the side as the bullets from her weapon spewed by. Grimsley could hear Ronald trying to calm down the leader of the Red Scarf gang as the two panicked.

The pile of electronics that used to represent the communicator fizzled and sparked on the ground next to Grimsley. He had ducked behind one of the many conveyor belts in the production room for cover but he needed an escape route before he was killed.

The door he had entered wasn't the best option now; Chandana's crazed firing was usually hitting it. So where else could he leave? And how long before the military came to rescue him? Another bullet whizzed by his head. They were coming in waves now as Ronald would sometimes grab hold of Chandana to keep her from firing before she would shake him loose and try again. Luckily for Grimsley, the tussle had to two staying in one place, rather than coming over and flushing him out.

Grimsley took in a deep breath. It was time to remember some of that militia training back in Easley. What to do when stuck in a factory with a psycho gang leader and her gun. Grimsley sat still for a moment, stumped. Actually, they hadn't ever covered that drill in training. Or anything similar to it. Come to think of it, much of the training had involved shooting at cans all day. What Grimsley wouldn't do for his tank right now.

Sirens started going off in the base, warning of the approach of the military. Chandana gave out her scream again and threw the gun across the room. It smashed against a wall just behind Grimsley, after having flown right over his head. He looked back and saw it lacking a clip in the bottom; she must have run out of ammunition.

"I'm going to find you Grimsley," Chandana's voice rang out, filled with anger and malice. "And when I find you, I'm going to tear your head off!" There was an "oomph" sound as Ronald tackled Chandana to keep her from going insane and controlling herself. He understood the importance of trying to leave before the army showed.

Grimsley though, had better ideas. He could play with anger, the same way he had played with Gretta's whenever they were arguing, back as kids (and all the way through until the present). "You'd have to catch me first Chandana! And I don't think you have what it takes to do that." Grimsley was slowly moving behind the conveyor belt, looking for another doorway. Even though Chandana had lost her gun, he was still certain she would lunge for him if he tried the entrance he had come from. "You might not have enough time to catch me anyways. Once they find the infamous Red Scarf gang, you criminals and thugs will be rounded up in an instant, no questions asked."

"Thugs? Criminals? What are you talking about?! We are nothing that you speak of! Do you not know what..." Chandana paused mid-sentence. "Ronald, what did you tell him!? We're a gang? No, no, that's not how it's supposed to...argh, I'll kill you too!"

There was a loud crash and Ronald tumbled down to the floor, before scampering away from the enraged Chandana. "Wherever you are boy, run!" he shouted as he hurried out the door.

"Thugs?! We are not thugs! We are freedom! We are tomorrow's future, the saviours of the planet and harbingers of peace. How dare that old coot tell you otherwise!" Without Ronald containing her, Chandana began roaming around, stalking her prey.

"Tell me, Chandana, just what does the Red Scarf gang do then?" Grimsley saw an opportunity to buy time here. Criminal masterminds were always looking for a chance to monologue about their passion and plans. If he could just find a door...

"We are not a gang. We are a rebellion! You must be living under a rock to have never heard about us from years ago, when they captured our old leader, Allyson. It was you military scum who took her from us! Now I carry the burden of the million souls in my red scarf."

"Million souls?" Grimsley had stopped moving, caught up in the moment of listening to Chandana.

"Yes, it is what we stand for! The red scarves embody the blood of the lives that war has taken over these years. The leader's scarf carries the most weight, having been soaked in the blood from a battlefield. It is our symbol of resistance, to fight against the higher powers of this world." Chandana threw a crate out of the way and it crashed onto the ground dangerously close to Grimsley. He scampered away along the wall as quiet as possible, still searching for an exit.

"We fight for the end of all wars," Chandana continued. "Have you not wondered who you are fighting and why? Why is it that the Artisans are today's enemy, and tomorrow's ally? The people are the same, the soldiers do not change. One day they violate trade agreements or build a fort too close to the border and we declare war. Another day, we get attacked by the Eastern United States and call upon our old foes for support. Why? The faceless beings who control the strings of power in these nations do not give real reason for thousands of men and women to die, simply quarrelling over a piece of paper or a line in the sand! Ha! The Red Scarf rebellion has been working against their cause for years. I am merely the leader of the Enian Federation's division. My comrades in the Artisan Confederate are working towards peace from the other side as well!"

At long last Grimsley found an exit, and Chandana's speech faded away into background noise in his head. As he stood to make the final sprint to this second doorway, Chandana leaped over the conveyor belt in front of him, a wicked grin across her face. "You have brought the military to us, but don't think it will stop our cause! You can never crush the will of the people!" Chandana lunged forward, tackling Grimsley and reaching her hands around his neck to strangle him.

Grimsley sputtered and tried to pry the woman away, but she was far stronger than she appeared and he couldn't get her off. Her long nails dug into his flesh as her hands tightened around his windpipe. The soldier gave out a cough and felt the grip tighten even more, like a python closing in on its helpless prey. He tried to get his knees up underneath Chandana, so as to simply kick her off, but she had locked them together between her own. Grimsley's vision was starting to fade already, the edges of his sight wavering and flickering, the world beginning to undulate and spin. And Chandana's evil face, consumed with glee and rage, held sway in the centre of Grimsley's vision.

The doorway Grimsley had been aiming for burst open and two men in long black trench coats ran into the room, each leaning over their leader. "Miss Chandana, if we don't leave now..." one of them hissed into Chandana's ear. She tried to shake them off at first but they persistently tugged at her until they pried her off Grimsley and dragged her out the door.

As the exit shut at one end, military soldiers burst through the other, fanning out through the room with guns held up and ready to fire. It didn't take long before they found Grimsley moaning on the floor, his neck bruising already, and they picked him up to be carried away.

* * * * *

It hadn't taken long before Grimsley was released from debriefing and the medical ward. He was fine, other than the awful purple marks he had obtained, and was otherwise given a stern warning for having tampered with the communication device he had been issued. And that was it.

Grimsley looked down at the piece of paper he had been given before he had been allowed to leave. It had his new assignment on it, as a member of the Thirty-First Special Armour Division, with two other tanks. His was obviously the main focus of the group, being the only Goliath-killer still functioning in the entire army, but he was not made into the leader of the squad. Of course not, he thought. I'm just a rookie still.

However, Grimsley had been given a new uniform with a small ribbon attached to it for his "intelligence work" in finding and disrupting the Red Scarf rebels. He proudly stuck his left shoulder forward a little more when passing other soldiers in the hallways of the complex, in an effort to gravitate their view towards his honour.

The military complex represented much of the city of Narrius. Like its metallic counterpart, the building was an enormous conglomeration of different pieces that appeared to have been scrambled together with total disregard for any harmony or order. And yet it could be navigated. Through following signs, Grimsley found his way to his section of the garage. He was to report there to meet the members of his new squad, and proceed to the battlefield from there. Apparently something big was happening out on the front and he was needed immediately.

Grimsley spotted his tank with ease, its massive, ancient bulk sticking out in stark contrast with the sleeker designs used in modern combat. With the advent of Goliaths, tanks just couldn't compete anymore and had been redesigned to combat infantry instead. They were lighter and thinner than the models of old, resulting in easier mobility and faster speeds, and many of them lacked a large cannon, instead opting for numerous smaller machine guns. Who needed a powerful gun when it couldn't even dent a Goliath? Might as well go with the small shooters.

As Grimsley arrived at his tank, two other pilots trotted up and greeted him with salutes. Assuming they were regarding his ribbon, Grimsley proudly took up a pose, with hands on his hips and head held high. The two pilots looked at each other then burst into laughter. His ego popped like a balloon, Grimsley slouched and grumbled a little.

"You must be Private Grimsley then. They said you would be coming down around now. I'm Carla." The soldier stuck out her hand for a shake and Grimsley took it with confusion. With her short brown hair and boyish looks, Grimsley hadn't suspected Carla of being female at all. With a closer look, he could see her pretty blue eyes had very long, feminine lashes to them, and he decided it would be the only way he could tell her apart as a member of the opposite sex.

"Umm yes, it's very nice...to umm...to meet you." Grimsley coughed a little and rubbed his neck, suddenly becoming self-conscious of his bruises.

"I'm Theo," the other pilot said as he introduced himself. His brown hair was cut in identical style to Carla's, and his face had a bit of a feminine tone to it, which had caused Grimsley to never suspect of Carla of being a woman. In fact, Grimsley became so captivated by the two's similarities that he began to stare at them in awkward silence. The two looked at each other again and laughed once more.

"Is there a problem Grimsley?" Carla asked, cocking her head to the side in amusement. She was clearly older than Grimsley, but still young in a general sense, probably in her early thirties. Theo looked to be the same age as well, and his body wasn't very bulky, probably from years of only having to be a pilot and not having to go and fight serious battles on foot, which again contributed to Grimsley mistaking Carla for a man.

"Oh no, umm, you just...I mean you two look very..."

"Alike?" Theo finished off the sentence. "Yes, our two families are thought to have relations in the past. We could be cousins, I suppose."

"I'm sorry, I just..."

"No need to apologize Private," Carla said. "Just make sure not to stare at your superiors anymore." She winked at Grimsley. "Now let's get you in your tank. We need to get out to the war as soon as possible." Carla nodded towards the Goliath-killer while Theo went to board his own vehicle, a light tank with a small cannon that was meant to take out opposing vessels, provided their armour wasn't too thick. Carla's was similar, and the two made up the bodyguard for Grimsley's powerhouse.

As Grimsley turned to hop into his machine, he bumped into a shorter, older man who was walking by, and the two stumbled back. "Oh, I'm sorry sir I didn't see you..." Grimsley stopped short and his jaw dropped down at the sight of Ronald standing there. "Ronald! What...what are you doing here!?" Grimsley shouted, grabbing the attention of everyone else in the garage.

Ronald chuckled. "Don't look so surprised to see me, boy! Ol' Ronald is tough to keep down."

"Did you follow me back from the factory?"

"Oh no, they caught me. Ran right into them. But I 'splained myself as no rebel an' they took my word for it. Course, I got in big trouble for being in works with the Reds but it's alright now."

"No, no it isn't alright at all. You're in trouble. What are you doing here?"

"Well as part of the criminal rehabilitation program they have they put me to work with my skills as a technician. Assigned me to a tank, to work on it with someone. Is this one yours?" Ronald pointed at the Goliath-killer.

"Oh Ishiyama." Grimsley smashed his head against the hull of his tank. "Please have mercy and just kill me right now," he prayed.

"You have prayers 'afore you drive? That's quite religious of you, boy. I respect that!" Ronald got down on his knees beside the tank and started murmuring his own personal hymn.

"No Ronald I just...wait a second, you're not a rebel, but you were working with them? But I saw you with Chandana, you..."

"Well yes, ya see I was in cahoots with Chandana. We had a business deal of sorts. I would find 'er willing young men and women to join their cause, people they could get to become rebels, or brainwash sometimes if they 'ave to. And then we set it up to look like I owe them some debt and well, you saw that whole show and all. Just used your communicator to call 'em in. And also they're always looking for soldiers. Nothing makes 'em happier than converting the boys in uniform."

"And if they refuse to join?"

"They hold them for ransom and sell them back to the military for political prisoners or sometimes money. 'Ere was one time they only got enough money to pay for a young lass I brought them and..."

"That's great Ronald, but I need to get going to the battlefield now, so if you don't mind." Grimsley was happier than ever before that he could leave for a battle. While others had nerves or fear, he couldn't get out there (and away from Ronald) fast enough.

"Right I understand. We gots to go when we gots to go."

"We?" Grimsley questioned as Ronald started climbing into the cockpit of the tank.

"Well yes, I'm your technician. Gotta help make sure everything is running nice and right, you know what I mean boy!" Ronald winked at Grimsley and then eyed Carla as she hopped into her own vehicle. And just like that he was inside the tank, ready and waiting for Grimsley to join.

"Ishiyama, please...kill me," Grimsley said as he banged his forehead against the Goliath-killer once more.

A/N: Free from the Red Scarf rebels but not free from the horrors of...Ronald! Can Grimsley pull out the late heroics to help the CRU once again or will Ronald drive him to madness first?