*Fight like a man, fanny cunt!*

  The FN Minimi 5.56 Mk3 ripped across the hallway in the direction of the escaping captive with a red shirt and his hands zip tied to the back. The tall, lumberjack built man wielded the weapon as one wields a light stick. The hallway rocked from the explosions up ahead.

  *Dobson, enough already!*

  The st bullets bounced off the sparkling wall as the hallway made a bend to the left, the running prisoner disappearing in the hail.

  *Alba, why bother bring the fairy if you're going to lose him to the first shove!*

  The short-haired Alba shrugged his boss's remark trying to say to forget about it.

  The small group of merchants and other sellswords just about lowered their hands from their ears, with the ringing still present as the noise from the bullets and the screaming reverberated. The merchants dressed in their best, vish garments, albeit short enough that they would not get caught in their feet should they need to run. The mercenaries, for their part, were equipped with a variety of weapons and armor - short axes and flexible medium-rated ptes, vile-chipped thick nces and baroque upper-body suits, along with other combinations.

  *Green! I can't control the robot!*

  On the tunnel stairs above the blocked doorway resonated with desperate bangs. On the ones below, the blond-haired, woman-looking haka punched the doorway built like a safe. As the fists impacted harder, the face split in half, moving underneath and exposing a chrome-colored solid piece face more apt as a mold to make masks.

  Green: Fish, get the bag.

  The two white polo mercenaries passed each other while the haka continued to pound where the hinges of the door would be, only making surface dents on it.

  Green: Oi, tin-can!

  Grabbing the haka by the shoulders, a razor-sharp metallic spider leg came out of from under the jacket, the head spinning 180-degrees to face Green. His attitude went from annoyed to angry.

  Green: The door is fucking 'eavy! Next time you act out like a pillock you're dead!

  For what felt like minutes the haka did not reacted. At st, the mold face folded back to the human looking one.

  Green: Now wait upsta'res!

  The haka's human face made an annoyed, defiant face at Green, reluctantly going back upstairs with an indignant huff, albeit one absent any noise.

  *BOOM~*

  Curly-bearded merchant: That coward warden master! If they break in we're all dead!

  One of the mercenaries, sitting cooly on the floor and kitted out with a chainmail shirt, looked at the merchant with a look of disbelief as he slowly stopped spinning his bde.

  Thin-mustached merchant: What's taking so long? We should have been on our way already!

  Dobson: All part of the job, guv. So suck it up.

  Fish continued to rummage through the duffel bag, pulling out tied cables and cy-like cubes.

  *Pop*

  A slight draft made its way from the towards the tunnel, and the burning tinge in the air made him wince his thick, curved mustache at the smell.

  Green: Well then?

  Fish: There's enough explosives, alright, but it could twist the door in an unmovable position...

  Green: We have no choice, so this'll do. Alba - over 'ere! Dobson, keep an eye up above!

  Dobson: Make it quick, sir, they're almost through.

  When they returned to the bottom of the stairs, Alba and Fish went to work setting up the explosives, while their leader with the combed hair tried one st plea, and spoke through the heavy door.

  Green: Right, girls. We got you' attention? You open the doo' now and I promise to clip you fast in one-tap. You force us to blow it down I'll finish turnin' you into women the 'ard way!

  The other two looked back in disgust and perplexion the proposition. When he produced a pair of pliers and snapped their bdes, the others acknowledged in approval and continued rigging the door.

  No response. And no more time to wait.

  Green: Al'ight, ds! Up! Up! Up! Step aside from the tunnel, cover the ears and ready yourselves for the figh'! Expect 'ostiles down below ready to ambush. Fish, pack the bag.

  As the three returned up, the other mercenaries roused themselves to attention and the merchants felt a sense of relief. Until the screams from above pronounced louder and the draft brought the smell of blood and smoke. They rocked as another mortar round exploded.

  The group covered their ears preemptively, save for the haka and the outsiders with their earplugs already in.

  Green: Right. Hit it!

  As the detonator clicked the explosion forced air to rush down as dust and a few chunks of rock kicked up.

  With the way open, the mercenaries in white polo shirts took lead, weapons at the ready. As they made their way into the room, they each sliced up the room with their muzzles, calling off the all-clear as they finished scanning their section. By one of the walls, the main leader found a pile of corpses. The top one had a hole perforating from back to front. The others had no visible wounds but dry trails of blood skidded from the neck or face area.

  The haka followed the four-man fireteam down, followed by a few of the more bulky mercenaries.

  Green snapped his fingers to get the others' attention and indicated to them the lonely corpses. Immediately, the others looked at each other with worry, though unconcerned with the dead and more with the fact that they were stripped of their armor and weapons. He looked upward, trying to pay attention for any noises or slight pings.

  Green: The lot of yeh - select a rea' guard. Get the clients behind yourselves 'n tin-can over 'ere. Team - forward but stay alert.

  One of the other armored mercenaries went back to assemble the party, and as the vanguard headed forward, Green could still not get the uneasy feeling of being watched.

  Compared to the tunnel above, the walls lit dimly orange the further they went down, just enough that they did not trip over each other. Green and the other three took out their night vision goggles before continuing further. On a few corner and at the end of some walls, streaks of red and dead men greeted the entourage.

  They reached a room rge enough to pass a subway station, complete with a tunnel splitting it in half. In the middle of the tunnel was a metallic bridge, and further ahead, a dark entrance, and from the night vision goggles, Green eyed a shape make a right turn.

  With one finger, he signaled the other three and the haka of the shade sighted. Moving ahead, the four mercenaries did their best to minimize the noise of their steps, even if the living-machine did not. Reaching the turn, the four readied themselves, and in one quick motion, Green lead the three in - in the dark room, there were four rectangur pilrs in pairs of two, four adjacent corridors, and a bridge inclined upwards ahead on the other side.

  The fireteam moved cautiously covering the corridors, while the haka walked in, its stiletto boots click-ccking upon the stone floor and its humanoid face giving way for the solid piece chrome colored mask.

  Quickly, its spider-legs sprung from underneath the jacket.

  *Click* *Click* *Click*

  Green: Ambush!

  He was not done pronouncing the st sylble when three taps from his muzzle illuminated his area of cover, with a man in tattered clothing came out of hiding before twitching under the muzzle fire of the FN F2000...

  Green: [nah, mate...CAN'T keep bettin' on 'em football. I al'eady burned too much crown an' I need to rethink my priorities...] Ay s, got a drink?!

  Through his blurred vision he couldn't help but guess that his men were recovering from a hangover. A blond woman with an odd face waltz with some ragged individual, sparks bounced off the two pilrs.

  When he recovered his bearings, Green noticed some of the other mercenaries hack their way into the tunnels, while the haka, drenched in gore, took cover behind another pilr.

  Three fast-moving mercenaries attempted to rush through the bridge only to be perforated by the sparks, firing at somewhat above half a second or more.

  Dobson: Get to cover!

  He reached over to where Green was, while Alba and Fish just made it to cover on the opposite pilr. Eyeing over the other side, Green noticed an improvised barricade on the left corner with an "otherworldly" machine gun with a wheel on its side churning as the operator opened fire. A few other militiamen stayed behind with crossbows and captured nky firearms, shooting off a few rounds to dissuade anyone else from crossing over.

  Green gave quick instructions with hand gestures to Dobson, and waiting for an interruption in the fire, he unleashed suppressing fire at the militiamen ahead, with Fish doing the same on the other side. Signaling to Alba, Green instructed him to activate the grenade uncher on his FN FNC. With the militiamen no longer firing back, Green and Alba fired 40x46mm grenades at their position - one overshot the threshold, the other erased the crank-operated machine gun in a white cloud and shower of splinters.

  Without warning, the living machine charged from its cover straight across the walkway, past the mangled hot lumps of flesh and straight into what was ahead.

  Green: Damn yo...Move forward!

  Crossing over the bridge, the four observed through the night vision goggles the haka tearing through a few braves, having no chance to nd a strike as the spider legs sliced them or the arms crushed anything it held on to. Beyond them, a line of shields moved forward with their spears raised, and behind them multiple clicks pinged in the dark tunnel.

  Green: Cover!

  Dropping onto the ground, the explosions popped off one by one...

  Raising his head slightly, Dobson observed the guards with an "X" on their chest drag a few of their injured behind the shield wall. Before the guards had a chance to move forward, Dobson emptied his Minimi into them, causing them to break and run. Below, Fish did the same, ripping through the legs and backside of anyone in the way of his FNC. Some of the shields were thick enough to withstand the bullets, while others were no better than toilet paper.

  At st, the guards retreated.

  Running from behind the merchants made it inside. A few had crimson streaks across their face. Some other mercenaries made it along with them as well, armor dented and leather partially torn.

  Dome brim hat merchant: They're everywhere! They're going to kill us!

  Multi-jeweled merchant: Why are we standing here! They're right behind us!

  Quickly weighing his options, Green turned to Dobson.

  Green: Buy us five minutes.

  Dobson: Go on, I got 'em.

  Out of nowhere, the haka rose from the ground, with a few broken spider legs, a missing arm, and its clothing partially burnt. It picked off any loose bits and discarded them off on the ground.

  Alba: Who else stays?

  While they reloaded, Alba looked at the other mercenaries until two volunteered with hesitation on their face.

  Green: Start counting. The rest - wait for the bangs to move out. Robot - watch yourself.

  Old portly merchant: What about us?

  Fish: Wait for us to clear the way!

  Brushing his hair back in a slick comb, they moved out to the end of the tunnel, covering the corners before putting their backs on the opposite wall with two entrances on each side. Alba on the left got a fshbang ready, while Fish and Green on the right took out a concussion and fragmentation grenade respectively. After pulling the pins, they let them "cook" for a second before flinging them.

  When the explosions did their work, with people numbing into disorientation and ripped by shrapnel, the fireteam shot at the scattered crowd on the floor below - a stone blue floor with crates and barrels for barricades, a rge empty storage room on the left, and on the right a long canal with a ship parked. A rather polished, vish river barge with a two-story conning tower and white metal stairs on its right side connecting one side of the deck to the other. If there was a window, it would be in the front.

  Green, quickly eyeing the area above, opened fire at the balcony rail on the opposite side, forcing the militiamen above back into the entrance. Those on the ground not under fire backed off the best they could.

  Green: Attack! Attack!

  The air thickened with vicious murder as the sellswords charged at the broken militia. A few javelins and stones flung at the mercenaries but did nothing to slow their attack. Heavy axes cracked the heads of anyone standing in the way and limbs were severed under the vile bdes of the mercenaries. A few militiamen regrouped with the guards and pierced their spears at the mercenaries. Even though they did nothing to puncture the armor, it was useful enough to push them away.

  Reinforcements rushed forward from ahead, and despite their shambled armor and mismatched weapons they threatened to overwhelm the mercenaries. While the fireteam continued to fire now with precaution, the haka along with a particurly rge mercenary with a two-handed warhammer came forth to confront the mob. What usable limbs the haka had it employed in a careful, albeit slow, murderous dance - with its right arm missing, it focused its remaining spider legs and arm to slice open and crush anyone it could catch with long swipes while keeping its right side out of reach as much as possible. The rge mercenary's attacks were more blunt, bringing down the warhammer in one powerful strike before closing the distance and keeping his opponents in check with his peaked vambraces.

  Green: Go! Now! Get to the ships!

  He barked at his employers, whom made the mad dash towards the ship while trying to avoid blood getting on their person.

  In the brief moment the hake took to recover its bance, one spear caught itself with one of its metallic ribs, while another went through a cavity in the chest. Trying to push the living machine, the guards kept it in pce while a few attempted to bash it in. The two that did so did not made it as their necks and arms were sliced by the spider legs. The haka grabbed at one of the spears churning the wood hard enough to crack it and immediately went for the second one.

  From the corner of its left eye, the haka saw a fsh of yellow envelope its vision, and as its spider leg made a swipe up above, its spider legs shattered at the joint when it made contact with a luminescent shield that vanished just as it was formed. Before it could look up properly, the st thing it saw was a muzzle come closer before one loud bang emanated, spttering metal and fluid in a rge pop.

  As it tumbled to the ground, whatever sembnce of a line of combat disintegrated into a mire.

  Iku's temporary shield, brightly colored yellow, thinned away from the air, and the haka at st ceased to function. Unfortunately for him, he could no longer use his devices to move faster for the time being, but without hesitation, he continued on with the attack with his bde, nicking off the mercenaries' bdes away and striking wherever there were chinks in the armor.

  Fish: The ship's leaving!

  *Bang*

  He immediately went down, struck in the shoulder, from a guard above where Iku came from. Alba and Green made the guard dance as the 5.56x45mm NATO made him a pincushion.

  Alba quickly reacted to Iku's bde and moved aside, managing to only get his chest armor sshed. As the two fought, Green opened fire upon those about to whack him with clubs...

  *Click* Click*

  Dodging just in time, he flung his weapon by its strap to his back, switching quickly to his sidearm and managing to injure one of the assaints. The attacks were persistent, and unable to get enough space, he was forced to close the distance in melee in order to gun them down. Somewhere along the way, the sidearm was lost, so he bashed them with his closed fist before switching to a knife. Despite wounding the attackers, they were not out of action, but before they could continue, their backs were crushed by the burly mercenary with the warhammer.

  Warhammer mercenary: Go! Get the ship!

  As he quickly turned his back, he brought down the warhammer upon Iku. Barely able to produce the yellow circur shield, the warhammer bashed what was there and came down upon Iku's right ribs.

  He had not finished colpsing to the floor when Green made the mad dash to the short pier on the starboard side of the ship. Sparks came out of the ground, but that did not matter. Behind the ship's conning tower was a square space where two jeeps could fit in, and with little room left, the haggardly combed mercenary leapt as far as he could. Landing on the slick floor, he slid towards the conning tower, rolling himself at the end before bumping onto the hard metal.

  With little room left, the well-groomed leader leapt as hard as he could. As he nded on the slick floor, he slid towards the bridge, rolling himself at the end before bumping into the bridge. He took a few moments to breathe before lifting himself back up. From afar, the chaos was in full fury. Only a thin trail of blood was on the ground leading to him, and no sign of anyone else.

  There was but the slimmest of chances all was for not.

  Reloading his rifle, he made his way to the right stairs, towards the upper level of the conning tower. With a hard kick to the left side of the knob, he saw the merchants squeezed to the opposite side in terror. As he lowered the FN F2000, he opened his mouth to order them to get the ship back, but the words failed to materialize.

  A bite struck him by the arm, and before he knew it, he was out of breath as his nerves burned, bringing him down to his knees. Biting his lip hard, Green tried to keep his sense of self in the present.

  *No! why is he not dead?!*

  *Kill him! Kill him now!*

  *Don't just stand there, do something!*

  Though they were brave to electrify Green, only one of the merchants dared cross the line - a skeletal, grim faced merchant in bck robes and a hat simir to that of an ancient high priest on Earth, puffy round on top, and also bck. Taking out a finely crafted weapon more appropriate in an Z-film alien production, he mustered a growl quickly turning into a scream as he squeezed hard on the handle of his weapon. At the same time, Green pulled himself up and raised his rifle at them, fighting the sensation of his skin being scorched and his organs being pinched and pulled downwards. Before either opened fire, a small yellow cylinder approached the head of the merchant before rupturing in a loud bang and a white fsh.

  Green colpsed to the floor with his body pierced all over. In pain, he tasted iron and struggled to get up, much less process his sense of being. When his vision slowly cleared, he saw a lump of bodies across from him, a few bursts emanating from them and sowing the ground in scarlet streaks.

  Putting his palms on the ground, he took a few moments to try and breath despite the building liquid in his throat. Gritting his teeth and lifting himself up, a hard pressure forced him back down, his face hitting the ground with a sm. Before he could asses what his situation was, his thoughts, his fears and worries, his sense of self, escaped from his head to mingle with the blood of the contorted, broken corpses of his former employers.

  After reloading his MP5SD with armor piercing rounds and his Webley, Becker took control of the ship, and pulling some of the leavers, reversed the ship to head straight back where it parted from, cleaning some red off of the peachy olive skin on his face. Not too far from where the ship was, there was a short walkway with stairs leading upward to a hallway, simir to a subway utilities exit. On the walkway, Sae held on to a young man in a red long shirt, bck pajama pants, and bck solid piece mukluks, whom just reached her chest.

  Sae: Alright, Sor-Harach, get ready. This might be painful.

  Looking down at Green, Becker could not help but get a sense that his eyes were asking him why.

  Becker: I told you it was a bad deal to work for these characters. If I had been lying to you, what am I doing here? What would I hope to gain from such an exercise?

  Returning to the docking area, the surviving militiamen finished stripping the dead off of their weapons and armor, haphazardly lumping them off onto a corner. From the tunnel, Taribar and company cautiously poured out, minding their step for the grease and blood coating the stone. Their dead friends and family were being id on empty storage rooms, and though it was becoming impossible to allocate enough room to allow their close ones to grieve over them, allowing them one st moment to say good-bye allowed the rest to load the barge as well as the other ships in the adjacent docking areas.

  In the meantime, Becker worked on Iku and Sor-Harach over some crates as improvised beds, with Sta and Ajka as assistants. Both young men could almost pass as brothers, albeit with obvious differences - Sor-Harach's ash bck hair was thicker especially on the front, his face and fair skin with an orange-yellow tint was slightly boyish, his sharp blue eyes were slightly bigger, and he was shorter.

  With Iku's chest bandaged, Becker cleaned the poor medical work done on Sor-Harach's leg. Though it did not appeared to stink of rot, Becker dispensed enough sanitation agents upon it to make sure any microbe was really dissolved and made him swallow some antibiotics as a precaution. Meanwhile, Sae took some polearms and cut their bdes out to turn them into walking sticks.

  Becker: Iku, if there are broken ribs, you'll have to find a medicine man once you make ndfall or risk walking it off. As for you, Sor-Harach, is it? I'll finish with you ter.

  Taribar and a few others showed up with the outsiders' equipment in hand, pcing them nearby.

  Taribar: So I guess those "secret tunnels" really were unguarded.

  Becker: Thank Iku for that...still, it could have been executed better...

  Even his wry smile did not softened his cold assessment. Sta kissed her beloved in the cheek and hugged him tightly, to which he gave a hiss of pain before responding in kind. Ajka looked away with a slight reddening on her face. Sae helped to get Sor-Harach to try and walk, make him adjust his stance in conjunction with the stick.

  Taribar: What should we do with these?

  Going over to look at the gear, Becker inspected the explosives and grenades in the duffel bag, pcing one of the fshbangs in a pocket of his own armor. He did his best to keep the wires and C-4 on one side and the grenades on the other, and on the sides, he pced any small tools the fireteam carried with them. Moving on to the weapons, he made a quick count of the magazines, ammo boxes, and 40x46mm grenades before emptying the rifles, machine gun, and sidearms. Finally, Becker inspected their knives and pced them along with the ammunition.

  Becker: I'll keep the bag and its contents. You can keep the knives - they're simple to use, obviously. If any of my kind should show up in the Desert, you barter the rest off or get them to teach you how to use it - that's your prerogative.

  Holding on to one of the 40x46mm grenades, he continued with the instructions.

  Becker: Store these with care - you don't want to explode all of a sudden, now do you?

  Taribar: We'll take care that won't happen.

  Holstan: *Grunt* The fishermen already got the hang on how to work the ships, so...whenever you are all ready.

  He showed up from behind Becker, his skin covered in grime and his top stained in dried blood.

  Taribar: So, how does it feel to be the big, brave hero?

  Holstan forced a pained ughter, enough to bring a smile to Taribar's tired face.

  Holstan: Good to know you did not cut-and-run, too! So, does anybody know what we will find in the Desert?

  Before Becker gave his input, Sae approached the while Sta and Ajka helped Iku to his feet.

  Sae: If you keep heading down for about a week, you should come across a rocky coast with rolling grassnd and windswept mountains. About a day or two, there should be some rusted structures, maybe a cluster of crumbled houses. If you walk about a month deep in, there is a valley of shrubs and cold ponds.

  Holstan: Eh! I thought it was a desert we were heading to.

  Taribar: That's not WHY it's called that. So, I don't think we can convince you to join us?

  She shook her head but gave a small smile.

  Behind them, Iku almost colpsed to floor, supported by Ajka slowly sinking to the ground. Before the others could help, Sta quickly steadied Iku back into position.

  Becker: We better head off. No doubt the chaos above will be out of control now.

  Taribar: Well, it was a pleasure working for you. I'm sorry you cannot stay with us.

  Becker: I don't want to sound like a gold-in-the-eye magpie, but business comes first.

  Unsure for a moment what he meant with that, the st three words made it clear what his position was. Grabbing the duffel bag and pcing his arms through the handles, he and the rest said their good-byes and well-wishes.

  Holstan: And may your life involve less smashing, boy.

  Iku wanted to ugh, but the pain would not let him.

  Iku: And may your status continue to bring you advantage.

  Holstan: *hah* Sharp as ever!

  As they parted ways, Becker looked on to the st of the mob boarding the barge, with one of Taribar's men coming from the long tunnel informing him of the situation back at the entrance. He could only guess what the worried faces were about, but it whatever it was, his small group would be dealing with it now.

  Ajka: Becket?

  He snapped back and regrouped with the others. The made their way past hodgepodge ships filled with civilians, past the stairs and eventually onto a rge, hidden room with a wall made of pipes, with a section of it torn rge enough for animals to pass through.

  Through cold corridors with pipping on the roof, past rooms with consoles and terminals rusted to the breaking point long ago, the band reached a room with wet spiral ft stairwell lit dimly by the entrance outside - a hard orange hue shifting to bck every second by the passing storm and the smoke in the sky before being completely snuffed out.

  And the rainwater, hard as it hit, pricked the threshold pushed by the wind.