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### Revenant: Into the Abyss

### Cameron Walker

### Copyright 2020 by Cameron Walker/Forsaken Press

### Smashwords First Edition

### To anyone who has ever supported me or my work, this is for you.

Revenant:

Into the Abyss

Chapter One:

Grim tensed his muscles, blinked sweat from his eyes, and pushed aside the pain that tore at his arms. Gritting his teeth and tightening his grip on the bar he exhaled and pushed upwards once more with all his might, groaning with the effort as he lifted the heavy weights for a final time and brought them to a rest on the stand above his head. With a sigh of relief, he collapsed back onto the bench and lay there for several moments to catch his breath and wait for the aches in his muscles to subside. Breathing heavily, he closed his eyes and relished the feeling of another gruelling work out successfully completed.

A harmonic beeping sounded as his commlink demanded his attention. With a groan he rolled up into a sitting position and picked up the bleating device. He looked at the data screen and grunted in irritation, the summons always came at the most inconvenient of times.

He clicked off the commlink and sighed, deciding he had time for a quick shower before he reported for duty in the allocated briefing room indicated in the message. Running his hands through his crew cut Grim stood and plodded into the bathroom for a well-earned shower.

Removing his shorts, he stepped into the shower and activated it, gasping in surprise as his body was shocked by the sudden assault of cold water that rained upon him and cascaded down his naked body. It had been a month since Revenant Squadron's last mission, their deployment to the Acacia Avenue Apartments to apprehend the notorious computer hacker Cyrus Green. The mission hadn't gone quite as planned with the squad being ambushed by over thirty bogeys. But still, they had come out victorious in the end, and although half the squad had spent a good amount of time in the infirmary, they hadn't suffered any fatalities. They had spent the past four weeks recovering from the mission, training, running drill exercises, and for Grim and his Sergeants, hosting classes on various topics at the academy. Despite his initial objections to the undertaking Grim had come to quite enjoy teaching classes on combat tactics and the theoretical side of warfare, in connection with more practical training exercises.

Grim was the last to enter the briefing room. The rest of his team sat at the table before Colonel West, a stern-faced black officer who had the same displeased expression permanently frozen on his face. Grim noted that the buzzcuts the five other members of Revenant Squadron wore made them all look alike at first glance, like brothers. " _Brothers in arms_ ," he thought to himself.

The other members of the team greeted him as he entered, his hair still wet from the shower he had taken before answering the summons. He replied with a lacklustre hello and nodded to them all in acknowledgement before taking the seat nearest the Colonel.

"Thank you for joining us Lieutenant," West said with zero enthusiasm. "I'm glad you could find time out of your busy schedule to attend an official military summons in a prompt fashion," he said, dryly. His cold, dark eyes fixated on the commander of Revenant Squadron.

Grim didn't take the bait and nodded in response.

Colonel West turned from him and addressed the entire team, getting straight to business. "Just over a week ago, on a mission to apprehend a wanted fugitive, a commando in our armed forces stole some valuable and classified information and deserted, taking with him some highly classified and dangerous data and a cache of weapons in a stolen gunship," West said as images appeared on the large screen behind him to emphasise his point. "The deserter was pursued and his ship badly damaged in the chase. Unfortunately for us the chase had descended into the lower city and the gunship went down somewhere in the recesses of Downtown. Due to the complicated nature of the terrain and its depth from the surface it has been difficult to pinpoint the crash site and track the deserter," West explained. "But several days ago we finally got confirmation of the location of the crash site and his last known position," the Colonel said, a map appearing on the screen behind him as several flashing lights indicated the crash site and his position. "Due to the delicate nature of the information and the significance it holds command wants Revenant Squadron to requisition it and apprehend the deserter," he said, sweeping his gaze over the six commandos seated in front of him. "You're to bring him in alive. I have specific orders from headquarters that he is to be captured and brought in for questioning, failure to do so or seize the data will have dire consequences for Revenant Squadron," West said, looking them all in the eye one by one.

"Um, excuse me, sir," Jet asked, raising a hand.

West glared at him. "What is it Corporal?"

Jet shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "The date on the deserter's last known position sir. It's from three days ago," he said, gesturing to the board behind the Colonel.

West nodded. "It is. Unfortunately, we were unable to track him any further as he had removed his armour's tracking system," he explained.

"A target could move a long way over the course of three days, even while trapped Downtown," Dex pointed out. "He could be anywhere in a hundred-kilometre radius. That's if he even stayed down there and didn't move up into the lower city, in that case, the search area could be huge," Dex continued.

Colonel West nodded in agreement. "Revenant Squadron was specially chosen for this mission due to the complex nature of the parameters and the logistics involved," he said. "Plus," he continued, turning his gaze to the lieutenant. "The deserter is someone you're well acquainted with, and General Vulcan thought it would be appropriate to allocate Revenant Squadron this mission as a result. Considering your....rivalry of sorts, it should provide some extra motivation."

"Who?" Grim thought aloud, before the realisation hit home.  
West noticed his expression and nodded curtly. "Yes," he said simply, before turning to the screen and pressing a button on the remote he held. The image changed to that of a grizzled, battle scarred warrior roughly Grim's age. "Gentlemen; meet Major Jax Caskar. Four purple hearts, three silver stars, two medals of honour, and one Federation Commendation of Valour," West said.

Jet whistled in appreciation. "Damn, that's impress...." he began before a glare from his superior officer shut him up.

As soon as he realised who their target was Grim clenched his fists and grit his teeth, burying the rage building inside him before it boiled over. He and Caskar had history together, to say the least.

"Caskar's a certified war hero, why is he suddenly stealing government documents and deserting from the military?" Cram asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Doesn't make much sense, does it?" Wes chimed in.

The Colonel's expression became even more displeased, if such a thing were possible. "How or why isn't important. What does matter is Major Caskar is a traitor and has turned his back on the Federation, and made off with highly classified documents," West said. "Your job is to track him down, recover the data and bring him in alive for interrogation."

"You said Caskar deserted after obtaining the documents on a previous mission, what were the mission parameters?" Dex asked. "Perhaps if we knew more about it and what he intended to do with the information we could get a more accurate idea on what he's planning and where he's headed."

"That's classified," West said flatly.

Dex rolled his eyes; but said nothing further.

The Colonel ignored him and continued with his briefing. "What we can tell you is he is alone, deep in unfamiliar territory, and without any assistance. What he intends to do with the information is unclear at this time, but we have reason to believe he plans on locating a Syndicate resistance cell and either selling or trading the information to them," West elaborated.

"Let me get this straight," Cram said, reclining in his seat with his hands folded behind his head as he chewed on something that was likely gum, or some other non-regulation condiment. "You want us to go into the depths of Downtown, which is an alien, hostile and unknown territory, to hunt down one of, if not the most dangerous men in the Federation, capture him alive, recover some data he's stolen and return it to you, just like that?" he asked.

"Yes," West replied. "No one said it would be easy," he added.

Grim snorted. "You make it sound like a routine job, it's practically a suicide mission. The chances of surviving let alone succeeding are virtually nil," the lieutenant said with a frown.

"Going into hostile territory without adequate reconnaissance, let alone none at all, has a long history of ending very badly," Cash commented.

"Which is why Revenant Squadron has been assigned the mission," West said, unmoved by the dissention shown by the commandos. "Aside from Nova squadron you're the best there is," he added, naming Caskar's squad he had commanded before deserting. When no one said anything further he continued with the mission briefing. "Caskar's tracer was found roughly sixty kilometres from the crash site, where he's gone since then is unknown, but he is no doubt trying to find a way out of Downtown and establish communications with the Syndicate rebels."

"Twenty kilometres per day, give or take a few," Grim piped up. "Which is a decent pace considering the environment, but he's either in no rush, or is wounded. Considering his ship was shot down and crash landed, I'm leaning towards the later."

West nodded. "We have reason to believe he's either moving to an arranged meeting point with the Syndicate or is attempting to establish one and bring them to him."

Grim rubbed at the stubble on his chin. "He will be wanting to get as far from the crash site as possible. Since he knows that's the first place we'll look for him," he mused out loud.

"So, he'll continue to move away from it," Jet finished.

Grim nodded curtly without shifting his gaze from the map displayed on the screen that filled the wall in front of them. "For the next day or two at least he will be wanting to stop somewhere to set up camp and organise himself, which means he won't be still on the move," he said. "Alternatively if he is still active he's got a three day head start, but baring a smooth journey we should be able to catch up to him in a couple of days, hopefully before he meets up with his contacts."

Colonel West nodded his agreement and took the hint, highlighting a section of the map that lit a search area 40 kms squared in a 180-degree grid from his last known position.

Grim studied the highlighted area for a few moments before smiling. "Looks like we've got our hunting ground."

Chapter Two:

The gunship wove through the maze of buildings, navigating its way through the valleys of steel as it moved through the lower city, gradually descending towards the limits of civilisation where the city ended and Downtown began. The commandos of Revenant Squadron sat in the passenger bay, strapped into their seats as they waited to reach their destination.

The gunship's intercom crackled to life as the pilot addressed his passengers. "Approaching landing site, ETA three minutes Lieutenant."

"Affirmative," Grim replied before turning his attention to his squad. "Alright boys, this is it," he said. "I don't need to tell you we're on a dangerous mission here. The chance of success is woefully slim and its practically a suicide mission," Grim said. "We're headed into unknown and uncharted territory where anything and everything could be a potential threat. On top of that we are hunting a very dangerous foe who we have to bring in alive, despite everything."

He paused briefly to let his words sink in and consider what he said next. The tension around the mission had been evident ever since they had taken off from the base, and now it was so thick they felt as if they were almost swimming in it. Grim didn't blame them for being anxious and afraid, if they had any sense they would be.

"We've all heard the rumours about the mutants, freaks, abominations, creatures of the night and monsters that supposedly inhabit Downtown," he continued. "If the stories are legend, myth or true I know one thing for certain. If it's true, then they're real. If they're real then they're alive, and if they're alive they can bleed, and if they can bleed, they can die," he roared.

A chorus of cheers and fists pounding against chest armour and bulkheads answered his declaration.

Grim picked up his helmet and placed it over his head, its systems coming online as it settled onto his shoulders. The rest of the squad did the same, the visors on their helmets lighting up with a crimson red glow as they came online, and the helmet's systems synced with their armour. In their polished black armour, the commandos resembled high tech versions of medieval knights, the glowing red strip visors making them look menacing. A feature that inspired fear in their foes and gave them a psychological edge.

The Lieutenant undid his crash webbing and stood, grabbing hold of an overhead handrail with one hand. "We can't do this by the book, because no one's ever done it before," he began. "So, we improvise and draft a new battle strategy that suits the environment. Standard urban warfare procedure, but also utilising covert operations of jungle battle tactics," he said. "We're entering the abyss and don't know what we'll encounter, so for all intents and purposes we play it safe, keep our guard up and constantly be on the look-out. I'm splitting us into two three-man teams for the operation, like the triple A assignment. Team Alpha will consist of myself, Jet and Cash, while Cram leads team Beta of Wes and Dex. Stay together as a unit unless instructed otherwise, should the situation require it, and always maintain visual and audio contact with the squad," Grim said. He tapped the side of his helmet and taking the hint they all switched over to the internal communications system. "Any questions?"

The rest of the team all turned their heads in Jet's direction and the rookie shrugged. "No sir," he replied.

"Closing in on our destination, 60 seconds until landing," the pilot announced over the comm. "Target beacon is in black zone, have to land at alternative position two kilometres away to ensure safe landing," the pilot added.

"Affirmative, standing by," Grim replied. He motioned his men forwards and they all moved into position, holding onto the overhead handrails as the gunship gave a whine and slowed before gradually making a vertical drop. The commandos all activated their weapons with a chorus of electronic beeps and whirls as the powerful blaster rifles powered up. They activated their helmet's night vision and prepared their armour's systems for combat, per their preferred settings.

The two gunners situated in the gunnery pods flanking either side of the gunship scanned the area for any potential threats as they descended, the pilot bringing her down neatly in the middle of a rectangular area that was the ruins of an ancient walkthrough mall.  
The access ramp descended with a whirl as Jet and Dex led the team's exit from the gunship, flanking both sides of the ramp and taking up defensive positions in front of the ship as they fell into a crouch.

"All clear," Dex declared after a few seconds.

The rest of the team followed suit, scanning the area for any potential threats as they exited the gunship, falling into formation within their two smaller designated teams as the two groups moved out.

"Falling back to Checkpoint Charlie, let us know when you need us Lieutenant," the pilot said to Grim over the comm.

"Copy that, beginning trek to the beacon. Good luck, and thanks for the ride," Grim replied.

"Same to you sir, happy hunting."

The landing ramp ascended once more as the gunship lifted off vertically and made its way back to the lower city where the crew would check in at a local security HQ and wait for news from the Revenants.

The commandos moved out through the streets, each team taking an opposite side as they made their way towards the tracking device Caskar had ejected from his armour. Skirting the walls of ancient, crumbling buildings they strode through the area, constantly on the lookout for any would be ambushers, locals, or anything that might present a problem or a threat. The streets were eerily empty and silent, devoid of any signs of life.

"Jynx, this place is creepy," Wes commented. "It's shocking cold down here too."

Cram scoffed. "We're what, seven kilometres below the surface? Of course, it's cold, this place hasn't seen sunlight in centuries."

"Quiet," Grim snarled. "Maintain comm silence unless necessary."

The two soldiers said nothing further as they continued to shuffle through the streets, rounding a corner and suddenly stumbling upon an inhabited area. Several dumpster fires and cooking pits lit the street with a warm, welcoming glow as they moved into the street and inched their way down it, exercising additional caution now they had encountered signs of habitation. Makeshift seats and debris surrounded the larger fires, their recent occupants having vanished.

"Weird, there's obvious signs there's people living here, but where did they go?" Jet wondered aloud.

Cash chuckled. "We came in on a gunship, the sight and sound of it caught their attention for sure," he said. "In this place it's like waving a massive flag and screaming "here we are, while setting off fireworks."

"Oh," Jet replied as he realised their arrival had been noticed for kilometres around.

"And they've all high tailed it and gone into hiding," Wes finished.

"Where?" Jet asked, before realising the folly of his question.

Cash chuckled, "Take a look for yourself kid. Switch over to infrared," he said, tapping a finger on the side of Jet's helmet.

Jet did as suggested, and the area immediately lit up with several dozen glowing red figures. "Oh, I see," he said, sweeping his gaze around the street.

They moved through the winding, narrow streets towards the tracking device, their night vision lighting the streets on their camera feeds with a clarity that allowed them to see everything within two hundred meters of their position as if it were daylight, albeit a curiously green tinted one. There was something foreboding and unsettling about the dark, empty streets kilometres below the hustle and bustle of civilisation where they could see the sun's rays and feel its warm caress upon their skin. Down here, in the poverty-stricken recesses of Downtown it was cold, dark and damp. The smell of a perpetual wetness and stale, stagnant air invaded their nostrils, even through the filters in their helmets.

"I've got a bad feeling about this place," Cram muttered, more to himself than anyone else, speaking aloud because it made him feel better to interact with his teammates.

"Civilisation left this place centuries ago and abandoned the destitute. Whatever fragments of society remain are going to be primitive at best," Dex said. "It's like they've reverted to precivilisation and become a tribal race once more."

Wes was about to comment when something flashed past at the edge of his vision. "What the fuck was that?" he said, whirling in the direction of the movement he had only the barest glimpse of.

"What was what?" Dex asked, turning to see the source of his squad mate's alarm.  
"Over there," Wes said gesturing with his rifle off to their far left. Bits of brick, stone and cement littered the ground between the crumbling remains of two walls. "Something moved past us. I only just got a glimpse of it, but it looked like a large reptile of some sort, with six legs," he said incredulously.

Cram joined the two of them in studying the place where Wes said he had seen the creature, studying their surroundings with his infrared scanner, but seeing nothing.

An uneasy shiver raced up Wes's spine as he replayed what he had seen in his memory again and again. He hadn't got a good look at it, and what he saw was brief, but it was nightmarish to behold.

"Whatever it was, it's gone now," Cram said. "Keep a lookout just in case, we don't want any nasty surprises."

Wes and Dex voiced their acknowledgement and the three of them resumed their trek towards the tracker, Grim's squad waiting for them so the two groups didn't get separated.

They continued their journey and before too long arrived at their destination. The tracker was located on the second floor of a crumbling four story building, still emitting its signal, which had allowed the Revenants to pinpoint its precise location.

"Cram, your team is to remain outside and watch our backs, keep an eye out for any suspicious activity," Grim ordered, leading Jet and Cash into the building through its crumbling doorway.

"Copy that," Cram replied before turning to his subordinates. "Defensive positions, Dex take point and find a good vantage point somewhere," he said, addressing the team's sniper.

Dex nodded and began hunting for a location that provided him with cover; but allowed a good view of the street.

Meanwhile Wes and Cram took up defensive positions near the storefront Grim's team had entered.

Grim led the way into the building, moving through what used to be a combination grocer/convenience store on the first floor, but gave way to apartments on the subsequent levels. They made their way up a winding, narrow staircase and onto the second floor, inching down the hallway towards the location of the tracker. Entering the apartment through the shattered remains of the door they quickly located the device, laying on the floor of the main room which stood empty, with the exception of the odd piece of debris and tell-tale signs of recent habitation. The bones of devoured vermin and the remains of a small fire sat in the centre of the room. The tracking device and some pieces of scrap metal and circuitry laying nearby, in conjunction with some bloody rags and bandages.

Grim stood over the remains of Caskar's makeshift camp and took in what he saw.

"Looks like Mister hotshot ain't so hot after all," Cash commented, coming to stand beside him while Jet conducted recon of the rest of the apartment.

Grim nodded. "Well that adds some context to his situation," he said. "He's wounded and his armour is damaged, looks like he had a bit of a rough time locating and discarding the tracker."

"My question is, why go to all that effort to remove the tracker, then just leave it here?" Cash asked. "He could've smashed it and stopped it from transmitting, which would make it a lot harder for us to find him, but he didn't."

"Hhhmmm," Grim uttered. "I don't know. It doesn't make any sense and that makes me uncomfortable. Knowing Caskar he's got something up his sleeve, and that means we've got to be ready for anything," Grim said.

They made their way out of the building and joined the rest of the squad to discuss their next move. "What could you find out about the surrounding area?" Grim asked Dex, who had been holed up in the window of a 6th floor building across the street and had gone to still higher ground to scope out their surroundings.

"Not a lot," Dex admitted. "Heading away from here without returning to the crash site there's only two possible routes he could've taken. I couldn't see too far ahead, even with my helmet's spotlight activated briefly and attempting a simulated recreation of the place I'm sketchy on the details. It appears a couple of larger buildings to our west collapsed some time ago and brought down a few smaller ones around them, hence that way is blocked off for quite some distance."

"We could split up and take both routes?" Jet suggested.

Grim shook his head. "We stick together. We can't go splitting up every time we come to a fork in the road. We'd soon be alone, then likely dead."

"How about we shake down some of the locals and see what they know?" Cram suggested. "Someone is bound to know something about Caskar and where he went."

"Good idea," Grim said, combing the area with his infrared scanner. The building two doors down was occupied by five inhabitants, currently sitting and remaining in place, apparently hiding from the commandos and hoping to go unnoticed. No such luck. "Ok, we do this by the book, treat them as non-combatants and with the same degree of decency we extend to normal civilians," Grim said. "My team will go in through the entrance and apprehend them, while Cram's team goes in through a back to prevent any escape and counter any potential ambush," the lieutenant ordered.

"Copy that. Let's roll boys," Cram said leading his two commandos down a narrow alleyway between the two buildings. Grim and his team took up position across the street from the building, crouching behind anything that gave them cover as they waited for the signal that Cram's team was in position.

"Bingo," Cram announced upon sighting the rear door to the building. "We're in position boss."

"Copy that," Grim said, motioning to Jet and Cash in turn. "Let's move out."

The three commandos jogged across the street with Jet and Cash taking up defensive positions on either side of the entrance as Grim kicked the door in. The door fell inwards and broke apart on rusted hinges as Grim bounded into what had been a reception area. Jet and Cash drifted into the room close behind, flanking their commander on either side, rifles held at the ready.

A man in tattered rags cowered behind the reception booth with his hands in the air, while another got up and bolted from the room.

Cram threw his shoulder into the rotted remains of the timber door that marked the exit and it fell apart under the force of the blow. His team hustled into the building, just in time to catch the fleeing vagrant. "Freeze, on the ground," Cram shouted over the external speakers, shoving the nozzle of his blaster into his face.

Wes and Dex moved to apprehend another who scrambled to his feet in a back room and attempted to flee as well, an elbow from Dex smacking him in the jaw and knocking him to the ground.

Jet kept the man behind the desk firmly in place by gesturing for him to stay put and keeping his blaster levelled at him.

Grim approached the one Cram held at bay with his blaster firmly pointed at his head. He lowered his own weapon and gestured for Cram to do the same.

Cram obliged but kept a close eye on the hobo; in case he decided to try anything or make a run for it.

"You, understand me?" Grim asked.

The man, who was filthy and looked to be in his 60's nodded. "I speak, yes," he said in a somewhat thick and drawling accent.

"Good," Grim replied. "We don't want to hurt you, we want information. Tell us what we need to know, and we leave."

The man looked around uneasily at the commandos and then back at Grim with a nod, his eyes wide with fear and his face covered with a sheen of sweat.

"There was another one like us, here three days ago. Did you see him?" Grim asked.

The man looked at him fearfully and swallowed with a nod. "Yes, we all see. Always notice strangers, especially demons from world above," he said.

Grim scoffed. "Where did he go?" he demanded.

The old man looked around frantically as if searching for an escape.

"Hey," Grim barked. "Look at me and answer the question," he snarled.

"No know," the vagrant replied.

"Yes yes," Grim snapped. "Tell me, where did he go?"

"Don't know," the hobo insisted. "He come one day, gone next. No see leave."  
Grim grit his teeth behind his helmet, preparing to have to beat it out of him if he had to.

"He go bad way," piped up the vagrant Jet was guarding.

Grim turned to him. "Where?" he demanded.

The vagrant's eyes widened with horror as he trembled in fear, suddenly overtaken by a deep sense of terror that confused and unnerved the commandos. "No go," he insisted, his lip quivering.

Grim took a step towards him and pointed his blaster in the bum's direction without raising it.

The hobo's gaze flicked from the glowing red visor to the blaster rifle, taking the hint he nodded and swallowed hard. "Gorgotha," he rasped, as if he was afraid to even utter the word. "He go through home of Gorgotha."

"What's a Gorgotha?" Jet asked.

"Greek pastry?" Cash quipped.

"Gorgotha, big evil. Monster from abyss," the vagrant said. "None ever return. Me told him, he go anyway, faster route he say. No afraid of monsters."

"Neither are we," Grim replied flatly. "How do we get there?"

Chapter Three:

After a gruelling ten minutes Grim had finally managed to wring a coherent set of directions from the vagrant. The commandos set out with the promise that if he were lying, they would return to deal with him. Grim led Revenant Squadron down the road the hobo had indicated as leading towards the domain of Gorgotha, which Jax Caskar had supposedly passed through as a means of detouring the wreckage of the ancient and crumbling buildings that blocked the way to the North-West.

"It makes sense Caskar wasn't just fleeing in some random direction," Cram was saying. "Considering he has immensely important information on him he intended to rendezvous with the Syndicate somewhere. Somewhere not too far from where he ended up crashing, in the grand scheme of things."

"I doubt he'd head right for their meeting place though," Dex said, as they conversed over the helmet's intercom while the two teams moved down the sides of the street. The area had opened up with a much wider main road and larger more spread apart buildings dominating the landscape. An icy breeze had kicked up and rattled the commandos inside their armour as its chill sunk through to their bones, forcing them to engage the combat suit's internal temperature control systems.

"Correct," Grim replied, half paying attention to the conversation, as he focused his attention on their surroundings. The way the wind whistled through the streets of ancient buildings, shrouded in darkness and devoid of life made him anxious. There was something eerie and sinister about it that he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Caskar's many things, but stupid isn't one them. Considering the nature of the terrain and his own lack of recon of the area he'll want to be keeping as simple a trajectory as possible, lest he put himself at greater risk of getting lost somewhere, or endangered by some hazard or unwelcome attention," Grim said.

The conversation ceased momentarily as they continued in silence, the creepy atmosphere settling upon them like an invisible pressure they could all feel. All around them unseen things seemed to watch from the darkness, shadows danced around them as if taking on a life of their own. Unidentified sounds resonated here and there, their sources as vague and mysterious as this lost, forgotten realm.

"Did you see that guy's reaction when you mentioned following Caskar?" Jet suddenly asked, breaking the uneasy silence.

"Yeah, he was shaking in his boots," Wes replied. "Very bizarre."

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Jet continued. "This Gorgotha thing sounds like a monster of some sort," he said, the slight quiver in his voice betraying his fear as he tried to remain composed and professional.

Grim grunted in disdain.

"Silly superstitions kid. I bet these people believe all sorts of nonsense," Cash said.  
"Not surprising really, just look at this place," he added.

They moved through the streets, following the directions given to them by the vagrant, when they reached a toppled high rise that had fallen across the street, blocking the way for miles around, forcing them down the side street that apparently led to where they would have to pass through Gorgotha's domain. The Revenants moved into the street and made their way along its long, winding path until it opened up into the shattered remains of an old harbour, where black, polluted water lapped at the wharf that snaked its way around the port. The commandos moved into the harbour and made their way along the wharf, following it around its parameter where centuries old ruins of stores, cafes and restaurants sat silent and abandoned.

"The exit we want is at the far end of the docks," Grim reminded them, pointing to the opposite side of the bay that had been made into a small recreational and shipping harbour centuries ago. They marched in single file along the dock, looking this way and that to keep an eye out for any signs of trouble.

Wes looked out at the water, noting its black, slick, oily surface. "I wonder how far this jynx stretches out for before you get to the ocean," he mused out loud.

"A long way, by all accounts," Dex replied. "The Federation pumps a lot of crap Downtown and most of it allegedly ends up in the water. It's apparently a sewage dump for a good hundred kilometres out, but after that its clean oceans and nothing but clear skies," Dex said with a faraway tone to his voice.

Wes chuckled. "Can you imagine that? Actually seeing the real ocean?"

"Seen it," Cash replied. "Apart from a vast, dark blue, wet thing, you're not missing much."

Wes shrugged and continued to stare into the distance, across the lifeless black water. "Still, would be nice to see it, just the once," he commented.

A splash just on the horizon caught his attention, followed by another, then another as they began moving towards the group of commandos on the wharf and increased in frequency. "What the fuck?" he uttered, not quite sure what to make of what he was seeing. "Hey fellas?"

"The hell is that?" Jet commented, his confusion matching Wes's.

The commandos stopped and turned their attention to the source of the disruption in the water before the splashes became a wave and a large, shape loomed just beneath the surface of the water, rapidly advancing upon them.

Shouts of alarm echoed over comm channel as something broke the surface of the water and reached up dozens of meters into the air.

"Take cover," Grim shouted over the comm as a giant, withering tentacle came crashing down upon the dock, almost taking the lieutenant out as he dived aside of the flailing limb. More tentacles burst from the depths and lashed out at the soldiers, the air becoming thick with blaster bolts as they instinctively returned fire. Tentacles whipped and slashed through the air, attempting to grab hold of the commandos as they fired upon it and fled for safety.

The slimy appendage struck at Grim, lunging at his face as he dodged aside and fired a volley of automatic blaster fire at it. Most of them missed, but several connected, blowing chunks of meat from the appendage, making it recoil in pain, before it thrust itself at him once more. Grim threw himself backwards onto the ground and released another volley of blaster bolts at it that chewed through flesh and muscle, spattering his armour with its foul smelling black blood as the appendage spasmed and retreated.

Elsewhere Cash fired frantically at a slippery tentacle that whipped itself at him again and again. Jumping, dodging, ducking and weaving about, thus far he had managed to stop it from getting hold of him. The flailing limb was proving difficult to get a lock on as most of his shots missed it, blasting charred holes in the ancient cement of the dock or flying off into the distance. Finally, he managed to hit it with a couple of lucky shots as it trembled and reared up like a snake ready to strike. Cash seized his opportunity and hit it with a barrage of blaster bolts, the super-heated energy blowing the tentacle to pieces and leaving it a mangled, gory mess.

Wes jumped back from a tentacle that came slithering towards him across the cement, wriggling and thrashing about like a frantic snake as it attempted to grab him. He danced about, skipping and hopping this way and that as he struggled to stay away from it, firing pot shots at the ooze covered extremity.

It suddenly shot up and wrapped itself around his helmet, making him stumble backwards as its slithering mass impeded his vision and began coiling itself around his helmet. He fired blindly in a panic, turning this way and that as he tried to dislodge it.

"Help!!" he screamed.

"Roger that bud. Relax, I've got ya back," Dex said, rushing to his aid.

Suddenly its grip slackened as it uncoiled and flung itself back at its attacker. Dex withdrew his combat blade and buried it up to the hilt in the tentacle's soft, leathery flesh. It lashed the commando like a whip, throwing all its strength into the blow. Dex stumbled; but didn't lose his grip on the knife. He clung to it as if his life depended on it and with all his strength sawed through the thick mass of the tentacle until with a slop it came free, slicing the withering limb in half.

A slick, serpentine tentacle slithered out and wrapped itself around Cram's ankle as he fought off another that kept striking at his head, lunging at him like a cobra pouncing upon its prey. It caught the commando by surprise, yanking him off his feet and sending him crashing to the ground, hard. It began dragging him towards the water as he slid across the concrete, trying to grab hold of something to stop himself, but unable to find purchase on anything.

A shower of blaster bolts from Jet landed all around it, some of them hitting the tentacle that seemed to vibrate with pain as the bolts blew scorched chunks from its flesh. It didn't relax its hold on Cram's leg, as it continued to drag the flailing commando into the water.

Cram fired blindly at it, blaster bolts peppering the cement and occasionally getting lucky and scoring a hit. He saw the edge of the dock rapidly approaching and giving up on the blaster, withdrew his combat blade and hurled himself into a sitting position as he began hacking at the limb coiled around his ankle.

Jet seeing this caught on; and leaping over a slashing tentacle and ducking under another, came running with his own blade drawn. Grabbing Cram by the arm he managed to stop his decent over the side of the wharf as he dropped his blaster and leant down and they both hacked at the tentacle that refused to let go.

The appendage shuddered with the impact of their blades, flinching in pain as they cut their way through it. It responded by wrapping itself tighter around Cram's leg and pulling with more force than ever.

Jet was hauled off his feet and came crashing down next to Cram as he was dragged over the edge, grabbing hold of Jet and almost taking him with him as he hung over the side of the wharf, the water lapping at his feet.

Jet slid towards the edge but stopped short as the Lieutenant suddenly appeared and grabbed him by his free hand, grunting with the effort to stop the two commandos from toppling into the water.

The targeting computer inside Grim's helmet flashed as the HUD display's crosshairs signalled a lock on the tentacle and he put several well placed blaster bolts into the limb, severing it as the remainder flapped about and disappeared beneath the waves. He helped Jet and Cram pull themselves to their feet. "Come on, move it," he snapped. "Let's get the shock out of here," he said as he jogged backwards, away from the water, covering his two subordinates as they retreated and regrouped.

Jet retrieved his weapon and turned just in time to see two tentacles explode from the water and go hurtling through the air, wrapping themselves around Wes's middle as he cursed in surprise, was hauled from his feet and lifted ten meters into the air. A string of colourful language erupted from the suspended commando over the comm channel.

Cash and Dex fired upon the tentacles, attempting to blast them apart while they tried to avoid others that whipped, swiped, and lunged at them.

Grim opened his mouth to voice a command; but stopped short as something huge burst from beneath the water, raising a dozen meters into the air and letting out an ear-piercing shriek that rattled their brains inside their helmets. The huge monstrosity uncurled two enormous pincers, each the size of a speeder, and glared down at them with a pair of huge, bulbous, black eyes.

"Fucking hell," Cash shouted in alarm as the abomination rose out of the water, spread its claws and began flexing them, the huge crablike pincers opening and closing with loud audible clicks.

"What the fuck is that?" Dex exclaimed.

Grim hadn't had time to consider it when it had ambushed them with its tentacles. "Gorgotha," he breathed, as it dawned upon him the old vagrant hadn't been merely relating the folklore of Downtown; but trying to warn them of a very real and horrific threat.

It opened its mouth to reveal a gaping maw of dozens of razor sharp teeth as it let out a sizzling hiss. The tentacles holding a struggling Wes began to bring the commando towards its hungry mouth, the tentacles moving as if in slow motion, like Gorgotha was taunting them as it promised to make them watch as it ate their comrade.

"Revenant Squadron; form up. On me," Grim roared, falling onto one knee as he flicked a switch on his blaster and aimed it at the hellish abomination intent on eating Wes.

The rest of the squad made a beeline for their commanding officer, Cash and Dex ducking and weaving around flailing tentacles that grabbed at them as they ran, the extremities efforts being hindered by a shower of blaster bolts from Jet and Cram that provided them with cover fire. They reground with the rest of the team and following Grim's example took up firing positions and activated their grenade launchers.

"Fire," The lieutenant commanded, pulling the trigger at the same time. The other four commandos followed suit as five grenades rocketed from their blasters and shot towards the hideous monstrosity. A fraction of a second later they impacted and exploded with a dazzling display of flames and billowing black smoke as they smashed into the creature's cranium. The beast roared with pain and howled in fury as the smoke began to clear, revealing its thick bone skull to be charred, pockmarked and creased with its black blood. Here and there blood ran from gaping wounds and chunks of meat littered the ground before it, some entrails dangling from pits that oozed blood and slime. Enraged it hurled Wes at his comrades and they caught him awkwardly, his rough landing knocking several of them from their feet.

"Fuck me it's still alive," Cram exclaimed.

"Orders boss?" Jet asked, stumbling back to his feet as Cash helped him up.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," Grim said. "Revenant squadron, move out," he snapped, motioning his men forwards as they moved off and broke into a run, with him following close behind.

Gorgotha screeched with fury as it advanced on them, its pincers opening and closing ferociously as it jabbed them at the fleeing commandos, its tentacles lashing out at the soldiers as they fled. The commandos engaged in a running fight, firing at it as they ran in an attempt to hold its flailing limbs at bay as they tried their best to avoid them.

"Move it, move it, move it," Grim barked, forcing them to run as fast as their legs could carry them while they ducked, dodged, weaved and jumped around the snapping tentacles, running around the edge of the harbour as they raced for the exit at the opposite end of the docks.

Its pincers shot out at the fleeing commandos, smashing into the ruins of the buildings above their heads and raining debris upon them as Gorgotha clumsily struck at them with its cumbersome claws. It jabbed the claws at them again and again, the commandos leaping aside of, or ducking under the pincers as they crashed into the buildings lining the harbour.

Cash came to an abrupt stop as a pincer smashed through storefront directly in front of him, and narrowly avoided catching himself on the ridge of deadly looking spikes that lined the claw's edge. "Whoa, jynx that was close," he said, ducking under the claw as it removed itself and receded for another attack.

Debris from above peppered their helmet's as Grim fought to see through the puffs of dust and bits of material that rained upon them. He stumbled and almost fell as the force of one of the pincers shattering a wall behind him knocked him forwards, managing to steady himself as he ran.

As they approached the exit he looked over his shoulder and felt a spine tingling fear slither up him as the abhorrent creature climbed onto the wharf on a number of stubby tentacles, its torso resembling that of a crocodile that ended in a long reptilian tail that disappeared into the depths of the water. Tearing his gaze away from the monstrosity Grim focused on running and was close on the heels of his men as they tore up the narrow road, none of them slowing until they were well clear of the street. They could hear the foul creature's shrieks of anger behind them as they ran, the sound gradually decreasing in volume as they widened the gap between them. It was either unable or unwilling to squeeze its way down the narrow road to follow them, much to their immense relief.

Once they were sure they had escaped the commandos came to a stop to rest and catch their breath.

Chapter Four:

They continued their trek through the recesses of Downtown, following the most direct path available on the conclusion that Caskar would have wanted to make his own path as simple as possible, so to not get lost in the dark, labyrinthine streets of the subterranean realm. The commandos made good time, running into no opposition and covering a good distance over the proceeding hours as they gradually closed the gap between themselves and the renegade commando. They moved quickly through Downtown, ever vigilant for any potential ambush from the local residents or, more specifically, the foul creatures they were now certain resided in the darkness, watching and waiting.

The Lieutenant eventually called them to a stop to make camp for the night, choosing the third and top floor of a squat, rectangular building that looked out over a parking lot, a number of rusted hulks of centuries old vehicles dotting the space. The base allowed them a good vantage point from which to see anything that approached the building for 270 degrees around it.

The third floor was broken up into three rooms with the commandos occupying the largest and most central. A flat circular device lay in the middle of the room, giving off a soft glow that illuminated its centre, leaving the edges and corners of the room bathed in shadow. The six commandos sat gathered around it, with their helmets and blasters by their sides, within easy reach. They sat around the light conversing softly among themselves and sharing a meal of combat rations. Despite the centuries of technological advancement, the quality of field rations hadn't improved a great deal since the 21st century, but at least they still got a hot, nutritious meal that tasted decent.

Grim ate in silence, lost in his own thoughts about the mission at hand and his personal rivalry with their quarry, his mind swirling back and forth between memories and plans for the future and how what he knew of Caskar could potentially aid them in apprehending him.

Cash finished his meal, sighed, and took a swig from his canteen, deciding to leave the energy drink ration for the morrow.

"What're you sighing about?" Jet asked, finishing off the last traces of his dinner.

Cash shook his head and smiled. "Nothin' kid, forget about it. It doesn't matter."

Across from them Cram smirked. "He's missing out on a social event of some sort," he explained to the rookie, who was still getting to know his squad mates.

"Ah," Jet said with a nod. He glanced at Cash, "Well there'll always be plenty more," he said.

Cash scoffed and took another drink without saying a word.

"And probably a date with a beautiful, young woman," Cram added.

"Yep," Cash uttered, with another sigh as he took another swig from the canteen and replaced its top. "Of all the things I could be doing right now, I'm stuck here," he said, with a look of disdain.

"Get used to it Sargent," Grim interjected. "You're not the only one who would rather be elsewhere. If you think any of us are thrilled about being here, you're wrong. Dead wrong," he said, his tone betraying nothing of his emotions. He gazed around the circle of commando's, looking them all in the eye one by one. "That's the price we pay as soldiers of the Federation. That's what it means to serve the state. It's the sacrifices we make that ensure the safety of its citizens, and we do it because no one else can," he said, his tone flat and matter of fact.

His subordinates all nodded their understanding and voiced their agreement, the conversation around the light fading away as they sat there in silence, the Lieutenant's pep talk effectively killing the mood as he put them in their place.

A couple of minutes later, unable to stand the silence any longer and finding himself short on conversational material Jet spoke to no one in particular. "I didn't really have any plans. It was just another night yanno? If I wasn't on deployment I'd probably be in cyberspace, doing some bulletpod racing or taking part in a Battle Royal," he said naming two of his favourite past times to indulge in within the virtual reality realm of cyberspace.

"Cheater," Wes joked. "That military training gives you an unfair advantage in battle royals."

Jet grinned in response, while Cram shook his head in amusement.

"Give it a couple of years. When you've done this enough in real life, you lose the passion for Battle Royal. The reality of war sucks any fun out of it," Dex said.

Jet's smile faded as he considered Dex's words. "I guess it would," he replied, a few seconds of silence passing by before he asked Dex. "What would you be doing now?"

Dex took a few moments to think about it before replying. "Probably reading something, I'm currently reading a book about the development of hologram technology and the impact it had on society," he said.

Jet nodded in acknowledgment and turned his attention to Wes.

Wes shrugged. "Nothing special, most likely sitting on the couch watching some holo-series. I'm a big fan of Blazers," he said, naming a popular comedy series.

Cram chuckled. "I'm more a fan of The Board. Although it's probably a bit too serious and complicated for you boltheads," he joked. "But to answer the question, I'd probably either be doing some unarmed combat training or hitting the gym, as boring as that sounds," he said. "But I always try to get a few extra sessions in each week to keep on top of my game."

Jet turned to Grim. "What about you chief?"

Grim looked at Jet, his expression impassive. "Preparing for war."

They rose after a scheduled 6 hours sleep, and after a quick meal set out for the day's trek, the lieutenant insisting they make haste to catch up with Caskar as soon as possible. A few hours after setting out they stumbled upon the first signs of life they had encountered since questioning the vagrants. Unlike the first group of Downtown's inhabitants they had encountered, this group had been taken unaware of their presence and went about their daily business, the scene resembling a 11th century village, but lost within the darkness of Downtown, kilometres below 26th century civilisation.

Grim signalled for the commandos to halt and take up defensive positions, the squad ceasing their march and quickly dispersing across the street as they spread out. In the debris strewn ruins of Downtown it wasn't difficult to find some appropriate cover to position oneself behind. The lieutenant motioned for Cram to follow him and he and the sergeant moved out from behind their cover and casually approached the small community, alert and ready for trouble, but presenting a casual and relaxed demeanour so to not alarm the locals.  
Grim mentally selected some options from his helmet's HUD and his live feed was slaved to the units in his squad, the others all seeing a small screen that displayed his point of view on the right side of their own displays.

It didn't take long for the locals to notice the two commandos walking up the street, Cram tagging along behind and to the right of his superior officer to provide him with back up, should he need it. Some of them quickly shuffled off, running inside to hide from the soldiers, while others kept their distance, watching them with a keen interest.

Grim came to a stop in the middle of the street. "We are soldiers from the world above," he began, his voice being projected out by the helmet's external speakers. "We mean you no harm and are travelling through your home, I wish to speak to your leader," he said. "Help us, we will leave you in peace and you will never see us again." He stopped, watched and waited. For some time nothing happened and he was about to speak again, more forcefully, when an elderly man came shuffling towards him from further up the street, flanked by four rugged looking individuals bearing melee weapons who he assumed were bodyguards of some sort. Grim waited for them to approach and nodded in greeting to the elderly man as he came to stand before the commando.

"Greetings sir," the old man said with a solemn nod. "You here for other like you?" he asked, in the same broken English the vagrants they had questioned earlier had spoken.

Grim guessed that centuries in isolation had led the inhabitants of Downtown to gradually develop a dialect of their own, that was more basic, primitive and direct than what the commandos were used to. "Yes," Grim confirmed with a nod. "He's a wanted criminal. We are here to hunt him down and arrest him," he explained.

The old man looked at him with a quizzical expression, as if he didn't understand. The lieutenant realised they probably had a limited vocabulary. "He bad man, we are here to catch him," he reiterated, cringing at having to talk like a simpleton.

"Ah," the old man said. "He come this way, two days ago, want our help."

"Did you help him?" Grim asked. "What did he say?" he inquired, relieved to hear they were successfully closing the gap.

"Yes, we help all who ask," the elder replied. "He not say much, keep to himself. Say he want meet friends, they come get him when he ask. He no ask, talker no work, too far. He get closer, make meet point, then they come get him," he said to the lieutenant.

Grim was pleased to learn that their suspicions had been correct, although the options available to the renegade hadn't been many to begin with. "How did you help him?" he asked. "Can you tell us which way he went?"

The old man closed his eyes momentarily then opened them once more with a nod. "Yes, we help, tell him way to go, where he can make meet place," he confirmed. "Tell you how find him, follow path he take and find him you will," he said nodding sagely. "We want no fight. None our problem, no sides, friend or foe nobody," he said, staring hard at Grim's glowing red visor.

"I understand, yes. Thank you for help. Now what path he take?" the commando asked. It took a painfully long time for the old man to explain the directions, with his simplistic language and attempts to explain ruined landmarks Grim had never seen before it was a long, frustrating, and tiresome affair. They got there eventually however, and Grim had constructed a basic map, stored within his helmet's intel files of where Caskar was headed and what path he had taken. The old man seemed non-pulsed by the whole business, remaining calm and nonchalant throughout the process.

Grim signed inside his helmet, immensely relieved the ordeal was over. He bid the old man farewell and returned to his men who had remained in position, should anything go wrong. "Ok, good news," he declared. "I know where Caskar is headed and what path he took," he said, updating his men, who he had muted during his conversation with the old man to spare them the torture. "The leader of this village was happy to oblige us and see us on our way," he added.

"Good. Wise move on his part," Cash said. "I'd hate to have to start busting some skulls to get answers."

"Oh?" Cram asked, feigning surprise. "Since when?"

They could practically hear Cash grin inside his helmet as he replied, "Since just now."

Chapter Five:

They had been continuing their trek through the abyssally cold, dark depths of Downtown for a few hours before they stumbled upon a place where the buildings spread out, became smaller and opened up into what had once been a large housing estate. Once green, vibrant well-manicured lawns had been reduced to dirt. What had once been a symbol of quiet, suburban life was now a bleak, dark, desolate wasteland where nothing grew and an air of melancholy settled itself over the team of commandos, so thick it felt like an invisible blanket had been dropped over them, shrouding them in an atmosphere of despondent hopelessness.

Moving through the neighbourhood Dex shivered as the feeling noticeably settled upon the team. The other commandos of Revenant squadron shifting uncomfortably in their armour or clearing their throats audibly. He set his mind to pinpointing what it was that caused this morose atmosphere and quickly came to a solid conclusion he was fairly certain of. Although the look had certainly changed in the centuries since, the area still represented the image they could all relate to of a stable, happy, safe and secure life where people achieved their dreams of home ownership, settling down and having a family. It was symbolic of the life people strove for, in one way or another. To see that image in a state of broken desolation was to destroy the symbolic ideal at its core, thus it now represented the opposite of that ideal, hence the current atmosphere.

"Whoa, what was that?" Cram declared, shaking Dex out of his musings.

"What was what?" Cash asked, puzzled.

"I just saw something fly by between those rooftops," Cram explained, gesturing vaguely. "Something big, like the size of a big dog."

The commandos looked around as they moved though the ruined streets of the suburb, their attention focused on the dark, formless sky above.

"I don't see...." Wes began, before Jet interrupted him.

"There," he declared, pointing his rifle in the direction of the flying creature he got a glimpse of. "I see it too."

Dex looked and watched for a few moments, but it didn't reappear.

"We've got a situation here," Grim said flatly. "Switch over to infrared," he instructed before anyone could respond.

The rest of Revenant squad did as directed and immediately their HUD's burst to life with dozens of glowing, red targets that hung from a ceiling no more than twenty meters above the festering remains of the housing estate. The base of a structure of some sort that had been built over the top of the dwellings, back when Downtown was still part of civilisation.

"Holy jynx," Cash exclaimed as he looked around them. "There's hundreds of them. We're surrounded."

"What the shock are they?" Cram asked.

Without being commanded to Dex deftly climbed the side of a house and scrambled onto the roof, the others watching as he fiddled around with his helmet's computer and conducted a scan of one of the lifeforms. The scan was then transmitted to the Federation's encyclopaedic database while he waited for it to come up with a match. It gave a beep as the words "no match, data unavailable," flashed before his eyes. "Jynx," he cursed. The commando considered switching over to his night vision but decided he could get a clearer look at one of them if he activated his torch. The cone shaped beam of light shot out from the side of his helmet and illuminated one of the creatures with a bright circle of light. "What the....." he declared upon seeing the creature clearly. It was hideous looking. Hanging upside down from the ancient ceiling by a pair of rear legs that ended in suction cup like hooves. It was about the same size as a large dog. With scaled reptilian skin and two shorter front arms that ended in huge clawed talons before its folded, batlike wings, that possessed an outer ridge of spikes that resembled chainsaw teeth. Its head resembled a snake's with two long canine teeth protruding from its mouth by several inches.

Dex had only just began to study it when its eyes suddenly flew open, growing a neon green as it gave a high pitched shriek and hissed at him, suddenly leaping from its perch and onto the commando, knocking him from the roof of the building as it clawed and snapped at him.

Dex fought fiercely against it. Having dropped his rifle in the sudden attack he punched at it and tried to hold its claws at bay as they scratched deep gouges in his armour.

A volley of blaster fire hit the creature in the side as pieces of meat and green blood splattered his armour. It howled in pain before another bolt hit it in the side of the head with an explosion of brain matter and skull fragments.

Before any of them could act the entire colony came to life with deafening, ear piercing shrieks that made the commandos instinctively duck and cover their ears.

"Shit," Grim snarled. "Not good."

Then the hideous, flying creatures were everywhere. The flock took to the skies and launched themselves at the commandos, diving, swooping and dropping onto the squad in a feeding frenzy.

Blaster fire lit the night as the commandos opened fire, shooting at anything and everything that flew as they found themselves surrounded and caught in the middle of a maelstrom of snapping mouths, slashing claws, and flapping wings.

Dex scrambled to his feet. Ducking under a swooping beast, dodging another and diving aside of a third he managed to reach his blaster, scooping it up as he rolled over onto his back just in time to empty a volley of bolts into the underside of a creature descending upon him. He was splashed with a deluge of green blood and guts as its stomach burst open, narrowly avoiding its corpse crashing into him by rolling aside at the last second. He scrambled onto his knees and blasted another that came flying at him, the barrage of blaster bolts tearing it apart with a spray of blood.

Grim grit his teeth in a barely contained rage and opened fire on the flying monstrosities as they attacked. One swooped down at him, only to catch a volley of bolts that tore apart its wings, chest and head before it fell to the ground, a mutilated and bloody mess. He barely had time to gather his wits before another came flying at him with a shriek. The lieutenant leapt aside as it grazed him, the gust of wind from its descent rushing past as it screeched in rage and pulled up to turn about and make another sweep. Before it had the chance, he put half a dozen rounds into its back, making it convulse with the impacts and drop from the sky like a stone. "Revenant Squadron, reform on me," he barked, falling into a crouch and cocking the grenade launcher as a grenade was loaded into the rifle's lower barrel.

A trio of the winged abominations came flying at them like fighter jets zooming in for the kill.

Cash turned at Cram's exclamation of surprise and began pouring blaster fire into them. The rifle bucked with the sustained automatic fire as the whining click of blaster bolts sounded throughout the battlefield. The beasts screeched in agony and rage as the bolts tore through them, quickly tearing them to shreds as Cash kept up the salvo of fire, the continued assault turning them into mince as they crashed to the ground in bloody heaps of mangled meat.

Another, drawn to the noise created by Cash's onslaught swooped at the commando while he was distracted, opening its mouth in a silent roar as it reached out with its talons, the webbed suction cups on the rear legs folding in and revealing two long, cone like spikes.

"Cash, on your 3."

Cash barely had time to turn his head before the shrieking horror was upon him, getting a close look at its gaping maw before its head burst apart in an explosion of blood and brains and the thing barrelled into him, taking him down with it.

Cram rushed over and helped Cash shove the corpse off him, offering to help pull the commando to his feet. "Whew, talk about a close call," Cram said.

"Great shot," Cash replied with a grin, as the two of them acknowledged Grim's order and began making their way over, through the chaotic turmoil of screeching winged beasts swooping, diving and flying all around them, and the bursts of blaster fire that peppered the air, launching a crimson light show of deadly energy into the sky.

Wes peppered one with a volley of bolts, the fiend being more savvy than some of its brethren dodged and weaved around the shots, managing to avoid most, but several tore through its wings, yanking it from the sky as they became useless and it howled with rage. The creature landed on its feet and shrieked at him before it charged the commando, gaping jaws snapping as it rushed him.

Wes brought his rifle up and pumped several rounds into the creature's skull as it approached, stopping it dead in its tracks.

One of them dived at him, dropping from the sky above with a shriek.

Wes looked up just in time to see it come hurtling towards him, "Oh fuck," he cried as he leapt aside, its talons scrapping his armour as it pulled up with a shriek and began to come around for another attack. He hit the ground hard with a roll and came up in a crouch, retaliating with a salvo of blaster bolts at the careening beast as it banked and conducted a tight turn, narrowly avoiding his weapon's fire. Wes flicked a switch and hit a button on the side of his rifle and a burst of flame erupted from the barrel as its flame thrower incinerated the thing, making it scream with agony as it burst into flames and frantically tried to escape.

Crashing to the ground beyond him it withered about, screaming in pain as it was burned alive.

"Copy boss, on my way," Wes replied to Grim's order.

Jet fired frantically at the creatures that filled the sky, their sheer numbers and ferocity overwhelming the rookie as he felt his pulse quicken and breathing become heavy as the onset of panic begin to inch its way into his heart. "There's too many of them," he protested, unsure what to shoot at as he was overwhelmed with enemies flying all around him. He fired a volley at one that swept past, peppered another with bolts as it began to dive towards him, turning in alarm when he heard someone shout a warning at him over the comm.

The winged monstrosity tore past him, slashing at him with its claws and opening three deep cervices in the left side of his armour as it passed. The force of the impact made Jet stumble backwards and fall with a grunt as fear seized him in its icy grip and he felt himself begin to panic. Rolling over he climbed onto his hands and knees, looking up to see the lieutenant standing in front of him, appearing as if from out of nowhere.

"Relax kid, you're going to make it out of this alive," Grim said, his attention elsewhere. Before Jet could utter a word, the lieutenant's rifle roared to life with a burst of super-heated crimson bolts, the projectiles flying through the air and tearing one of the winged creatures to pieces with splatters of blood and gore.

The rookie climbed to his feet just in time to see the lieutenant calmly turn and launch a grenade. The explosive rocketed through the air, hitting one in the chest as it exploded, an expanding ball of flames consuming two others as the explosive detonated and consumed them before they could attempt to flee. Shrieking, the nearby members of the colony retreated, but kept the commandos well within view as others to Jet and Grim's rear continued their assault on the commandos, flashing past as they slashed, hacked and bit at their intended prey.

Wes quickly joined them, with Dex running in a zig-zag pattern joining them seconds later as Grim provided him with cover fire while Wes and Jet kept any attackers at bay with targeted fire.

"Cash and Cram?" Grim asked, not shifting his attention from the abominations that filled the sky, gunning them down with lethal efficiency as he put two rounds into the mid-sections of every target, dropping them to the ground, either dead or dying.

Dex joined him, the sniper's assistance paying off as they built some distance between themselves and most of the colony, he was able to properly scope and bring them down one by one with a head shot to each target. One of the creatures screeched with fury as its mate was shot out of the sky, it's cry being cut short as its head exploded with a spray of blood and brains.

"Right here boss," Cram said over the comm as they came running up the street to join the rest of the team.

"Excuse the delay, we were held back by some fans," Cash jested. "I just can't seem to escape the ladies wherever I go."

Grim only grumbled something intelligible as the rest of the squad laughed. He gestured to a two-story house on their three O'clock. "Take cover in that building, regroup and reassess the situation," he ordered. "Now move it."

The commandos assumed a rough oval formation as they rushed towards the dwelling, jogging as they kept up a steady stream of blaster bolts to hold the creatures at bay. The creatures now moved to avoid the weapons fire, having learnt the streams of crimson energy brought pain and death with their touch.

The commandos made it safely inside the house without much trouble, Cram and Dex stationing themselves near the windows to fire on any of the creatures that approached. For now, the winged beasts had ceased their attack, seemingly content to sit and wait for them to emerge from their hiding place.

"I want an update, how're we all looking?" Grim asked, requesting an assessment of his condition from his own armour. A readout scrolled up his screen and he scanned it briefly, noting the important information, his lips mouthing the words as he read them. "Systems at 70% power, armour 90% operating capacity." He had taken some minor damage during the battle with Gorgotha and the attack from whatever these things were. Mostly cosmetic from the looks of things.

Cash hit the release on his blaster and an empty magazine clattered to the ground as he shoved another into its place. "Lookin' green, 90%," he said with the others all confirming they'd suffered nothing more than some relatively minor damage thus far. "What the shock was that all about?" Cash demanded. "Did the old man tell you about these things?"

"No. He didn't mention it," Grim said, his mind wandering as he pondered it. He pushed the thought aside and returned to the job at hand, that could wait until later. He nodded in response to Cash's assessment. "Good, prepare to move out. We're not going to sit around waiting for them to decide we're dinner," he said, cocking his rifle's grenade launcher once more. "The plan is we keep moving. If we stay in one spot, they're sure to overwhelm us, so we stay on the move and keep close together," he said, his voice stern. "We took them by surprise with the initial battle, but they've quickly learned what we're capable of and are ready for us."

"We can't fight all these things," Wes said. "We'll run out of ammo well before then, there's hundreds of them, maybe thousands."

Jet, looking out across the street which was littered with their corpses nodded. "No matter how many we kill they just kept coming, like it doesn't even bother them."

"They're animals," Dex replied. "Obviously predators, their life revolves around the cycle of hunt, kill, eat, sleep. The most primitive of urges are all they experience."

"Thanks for the nature talk doc," Cash snickered. "Next time maybe don't poke sleeping predators."

"Our goal is to get out of here in one piece," Grim cut in before Dex could retort. "Keep moving, stay together and be conservative with the ammo, semi-automatic only, make every shot count," he said, moving towards the door. "Ready grenade launchers and let's move out." The lieutenant led the way, the other commandos forming up around him in a rough, close quarters oval shape upon exiting the building. They continued to move through the estate at a jog.

It didn't take long for the winged beasts to notice they'd left the sanctuary of the house, almost immediately high pitched cries of alarm sounded from all around them as the creatures began to take flight once more, circling the group of commandos as they tracked their path through the ancient ruins of the housing estate.

"I don't like this," Wes commented, watching the creatures fly around them in lazy circles, keeping a good distance between themselves and the soldiers.

"Yeah, talk about creepy," Cram agreed, tightening his grip on his blaster.

"I suddenly know what it feels like to be a mouse," Cash added. "Not a fan of knowing I'm on the menu."

"Be ready to launch grenades on my order," Grim said. "I'll go first then we go round clockwise, only fire when I give the order. Otherwise fire at will," he clarified, wanting to space out the grenade attacks to achieve optimal efficiency over the greatest period of time. For another slow, agonising minute nothing happened as the commandos resumed their journey and the animals continued to stalk them.

Then suddenly without warning the foul creatures attacked.

The commandos opened fire, the whine of blasters echoing all around as streaks of crimson energy peppered the darkness, plucking winged beasts from the sky and sending them plummeting to the ground. A duo of the creatures banked, dived and came hissing towards their formation at a 45-degree angle, as if challenging them.

Grim raised his blaster and fired the grenade launcher, the projectile trailing a path of smoke as it flew through the air, hitting the creature on the left in the chest as it exploded. The explosion turned both of the winged terrors into hunks of flaming meat as the explosion rapidly expanded and two others exploded and three more caught fire, screeching in pained rage as they fluttered about aimlessly, losing altitude as the membranous flesh of their wings burned and they spiralled towards the ground.

The fiends around the explosion screamed in alarm and dispersed, their numbers rapidly thinning around Revenant squadron's formation as they moved through the streets. Diving back for another attack the creatures strafed the commandos, swiping talons, jagged wings and snapping jaws lashing out at the soldiers as they flew past, climbing into the sky once more before they banked in tight turns and came back around for another attack.

Blaster bolts lit the night as the commandos fired on their attackers, dropping them from the sky as corpses littered the area around them.

Several bolts tore through a wing of one of them, it screeched in pain as it fluttered to the ground in a controlled fall, landing on its four legs as it ran at the group of commandos with a roar.

"Wes! Look out!" Cram shouted over the comm, his squad mate barely having time to turn his head to the source of his team mate's alarm before he saw it come snarling towards him, barrelling into him with an impact that knocked him off his feet. Wes dropped his blaster as the weight of the creature hit him like a truck. Hitting the ground with a heavy thud it leapt on top of him and began clawing and snapping its jaws at his armour, determined to pry it apart and get at the flesh beneath. Wes instinctively brought his arms up to protect himself, frantically trying to push the rabid beast off him to prevent it from tearing his armour open.

It roared in fury, snapping its jaws inches from his face, revealing rows of long jagged teeth that looked like they could shred the armour from his body. It dragged its talons down his chest, the metal screeching in protest as it dug a series of gashes in the chest plate.

He punched it in the side of the head again and again, which only served to distract it momentarily.

It hissed in response, gnashing its teeth centimetres from his visor as he tried to inch away from it.

"Help!!" Wes pleaded over the comm; the distress evident in his voice.

It roared with fury and placed both its taloned claws over his face, seemingly to rip the visor from his helm.

Its head burst in an explosion of blood, bone and brain matter, cutting its cry short.

"Head shot," Dex declared, turning and returning his attention to the creatures dive bombing their position. The sniper's aim was deadly, one shot one kill, with each bolt being expertly placed through the skull of every target.

"Now, fire!!" Grim barked.  
Cram's rifle bucked with the launch of a grenade as it plunged into the stomach of a passing target and exploded, practically vapourising it and blowing two others to pieces as they fell to the ground, husks of dead, charred meat.

A dozen of the creatures came running out of the darkness on their left, hissing and snarling as they hurled themselves at the commandos, who had their attention fixed on the enemy above.

"Incoming hostiles on our 8 o'clock, down low," Cash warned over the com, being the first to spot them as they came running at him. His rifle bucked as his grenade launcher fired, emitting a plume of smoke as the projectile burst from the barrel. It hit one of them in the head and exploded, the explosion taking out four of the creatures in a shower of blood, guts and entrails as green slime flew in all directions, the pungent smell of gore and viscera making Cash want to retch.

The other eight kept coming, opening their mouths to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth as they hissed.

Jet whirled around to come to Cash's aid, adding his own fire to the sergeant's as they tried desperately to stem the surprise attack before the creatures were among them. "Get some, get some," he snarled blowing a hole in the side of one's head and putting a trio of bolts down the side of another as its stomach fell open and its guts spilled out onto the ground.

"Jynx, fuck, there's more of them," Cash screamed over the comm as another dozen landed and joined the fray, running and hissing in excitement as they joined the others.

"Cash, give me a visual feed," Grim said, a smaller screen of his sergeant's POV appearing on the right side of his viewscreen a few seconds later. He grit his teeth and growled as he assessed the situation, they were now under attack from two fronts. Keeping the creatures at bay had been difficult enough when they were just attacking from the air, but now with them attacking from the ground as well they weren't just out numbered, but under manned to defend their formation as they tried to flee. "Reform," Grim yelled over the comm, "Jet, Cash and Cram cover us from the ground attack, Wes and Dex you're with me, let's keep these mongrels off us," he said. "By the way Wes, fire."

The grenade rocketed into the air and exploded, taking out four of the creatures as blood and guts rained on the soldiers.

The other commandos acknowledged the order and altered their positions to reflect the new arrangement, Cram moving to join Cash and Jet as they fought furiously to keep the horde of creatures from overwhelming them, blaster bolts tearing through flesh and dropping the abominations to the ground, either dead or screeching as they bled out.

Cash fought with both his sidearm and rifle, blasting away with one, then the other.  
As he gunned one down, another leapt aside and swung around to come back at Jet, lunging at him from the side and wrapping its clawed limbs around his legs. It yanked the surprised commando from his feet and began dragging him away from his comrades, the soldier screaming in terror as its jaws snapped at him.

"Help!! It's fucking got me," Jet shrieked, his eyes wide with fear as it began chewing at his armour, another quickly joining it to devour the commando.

"Fuck," Cash shouted as he watched Jet get dragged away from them by one of the creatures, quickly gaining the attention of other members of the colony who moved to join the feast. "Cram," Cash called out to his team mate, the other sergeant turning as he threw his blaster to him, catching it in one hand and tossing it up and catching it again by the handle as he now wielded two blaster rifles.

Cash withdrew his other blaster pistol and ran to Jet's aid. He shot one right between the eyes, leapt onto its head and used it as a springboard to catapult him into the air as he came down firing at another, placing a volley of bolts into its spine.

It screamed with pain as it collapsed and entered its death throes.

Cash hit the dirt and slid across the ground towards Jet, pistols blasting away as he put a salvo of shots into the chest of the creature that had the rookie pinned to the ground. It reared up and shrieked in agonised rage, then went silent as he put another bolt through its skull.

Jet rolled aside as it crashed to the ground where he had lain moments before. He climbed to his feet as he and Jet fired at the creatures descending upon them, intent on surrounding the commandos and isolating them from the rest of the group.

Noticing the way the creatures recoiled from the flames and the way the creature he'd awakened had reacted upon shining his torch on it an idea occurred to Dex. As one of the beasts swooped at him, he turned his torch on, the long cone of light flashing to life and stretching across the darkness to illuminate the creature. It shrieked as soon as the beam of light touched it, recoiling as if in pain, fear, or possibly both? Dex smiled behind his visor. "Bingo," he declared. "Activate your torches," he shouted to the others. "They don't like the light."

"What?" Wes protested, slightly confused.

"It either hurts them or they're afraid of it, but they avoid it at all costs," Dex replied.

Without any further pause the torches on all the commando's helmets flashed to life, beams of light illuminating the darkness around them.

It worked like a charm. The creatures shrieked and began to retreat, not daring to approach the beams of criss-crossing light as the commandos regrouped into an outward facing close formation. They stayed out of range of the light, fluttering around the soldiers just beyond its reach, not daring to move any closer, but reluctant to give up the hunt.

"Nice work," Jet commented, clutching his rifle in both hands as he walked backwards, the group staying close together, well within the sanctuary of the light as they moved through the suburb.

The creatures continued to follow them for some time, circling their formation as they looked for an opportunity to attack the soldiers. Occasionally one would get brave and attempt a swooping attack, only to be repulsed by a torch flicking in its direction, bathing it in light as it let out an ear-piercing shriek and quickly retreated beyond its reach.

The commandos continued their journey through the suburban neighbourhood until they reached what resembled the ancient, crumbling remains of an industrial area. One which, thankfully, the creatures didn't follow them into, the flock breaking off and returning to their nest as the commandos crossed the boundary of their territory.

Chapter Six:

"What the fuck was that?" Cash snapped, his voice echoing throughout the ancient factory. "Someone explain to me what happened there, because I have no fucking idea."

Dex nodded. "Apart from the obvious it would seem the village elder neglected to mention that part of the journey to us."

"Intentionally?" Jet asked.

"Possibly," Dex replied, going over an assessment of his equipment and weaponry as he sat with his back against the wall.

"Yes," Grim replied. Standing away from the camp he turned to face them, the light of the lantern in the middle of the floor casting shadows across his scarred and battle-hardened features. "It was a trap," he said matter-of-factly. Wes went to speak, but Grim raised a hand to silence him. "I know Jax Caskar well. We served together in the same unit for a number of years. He's a cunning and ruthless opponent. The old man gave up information too eagerly, it was too easy. Why? Because Caskar had convinced him to do so, and instructed him to give us no information about obstacles and threats we would encounter along the way," Grim said, his impassive expression becoming a sneer of contempt.

"But why do that and allow us to follow him? Why not have the old man tell us the wrong directions that leads to us getting hopelessly lost?" Cram asked.

Grim shook his head. "The old man wouldn't agree to that. There's too much of a chance we'd catch on and find our way back to him, and he wouldn't want an angry team of commandos to deal with," Grim explained. "Caskar wants us to follow him so he can lure us into a trap and finish us off himself," he added. "He reasoned that command would send the team of his greatest rival to hunt him down, and he set about preparing for that by luring us into a battlefield of his choosing and making us run a gauntlet of sorts."

Jet, who was applying a solvent to his damaged armour, looked up. "So, there's more to come?" The solvent would fill the gouges in his armour and harden into metal as it oxidised, providing makeshift repairs for the damage done.

"Yes, Caskar's probably been planning this since he crashed. Even going the way of Gorgotha's lair was intentional to throw something in our path. He's alone and prepared. Probably been conserving his own power as much as possible and saving his ammo," Grim said.

"Meanwhile we've dived in after him packs raging at full capacity and blasting away at everything that moved, draining our equipment, power supply and ammunition in the process," Cash said, catching on.

The lieutenant nodded.

"Then he can choose when and where we fight, set a trap, wait for us to arrive and finish us off," Dex concluded, before adding. "Whatever injuries or possible fatalities having been sustained along the way giving him a bonus advantage."

"Correct," Grim confirmed. "I don't know what else he has in store for us, but I guarantee it won't be pretty. So, we have to play it smart, keep on our toes and be ready for anything."

"Couldn't we find another route around the directions we were given?" Wes asked. "You know, act like we've fallen for his ruse, but then go an alternative route, come around and hit him from where he doesn't expect it. Beat him at his own game," he suggested.

"Negative," Grim said. "The risk of getting lost in unknown territory is too great. It would be too easy to think we know where we are, take a wrong turn and end up hopelessly lost. We have no choice but to play his game, as much as I hate it. There's no other option available to us."

Their situation wasn't looking good. With their power supplies falling to 60% battery power, equipment beginning to run scarce and ammunition now being rationed Revenant Squadron's capacity to engage in a pitched battle had been compromised. Their suits of armour had been sparking, hissing, smoking, and crackling for several hours after the battle as they all worked on repairing the damage sustained. Luckily apart from some bruises, aches and minor cuts and abrasions they were unharmed, but their armour had taken a significant amount of damage. Grim was glad he had insisted they all bring additional ammo, equipment and supplies. It weighed them down a bit more than was comfortable, but it had been worth it. In unknown, unpredictable situations such as this it paid to be prepared for any situation that could arise.

"We move out in six hours," Grim said. "Get whatever rest you can because you're going to need it. We're hot on Caskar's trail and we can't let up now, every moment we delay gives him more time to prepare and thus, more of an advantage."

After the exertions of the day they were all exhausted, sore and mentally drained. With Jax Caskar ready and waiting for them, and unknown challenges and horrors lying in wait they would need all the rest they could get.

Grim lay down and rested his head on his supply pack, using it for a makeshift pillow. The hard ground and armour didn't make for a comfortable bed, but after twenty-five years in the military he was used to sleeping in uncomfortable places. He had no idea what time or day it was. He had deactivated his suit's clock upon setting off on the mission, in order to better adapt to the eternal night of Downtown. A troublesome anxiety tugged at his mind, ever since they had cleared the territory of the flying monstrosities and he had realised they were being led into a trap it had been nagging at him. He was worried for himself, worried for the success of the mission, and most of all, worried about his men. Pushing the negative thoughts aside he tried to ignore the anxiety scratching at the edges of his consciousness, the foreboding sense of doom that penetrated the atmosphere of Downtown becoming more prevalent as he felt it like a physical weight pushing down upon him. With a scowl he rolled over onto his side and focused on more pleasant thoughts as he closed his eyes, relaxed, and gradually drifted off to sleep.

Cash felt like he had barely closed his eyes before he heard an alarm go off, startling him awake as the signal blared inside his helmet. It wasn't that loud, but in the complete silence it was almost deafening. After the incident with the flying beasts he had opted to sleep with his helmet on, so he was ready for action at a moment's notice, just in case. He groaned and dragged himself up into a sitting position, the alarms from the other commandos echoing throughout the empty warehouse as they were also roused from their sleep. Much to their chagrin their commander only allowed them a few minutes to quickly eat and prepare to move out, insisting that they get going asap and resume the hunt for Caskar.

With a sigh Dex hauled himself to his feet, joining the squad as they moved out, taking up the rear of the formation to watch their six. Despite his tiredness it had taken him a few hours to get to sleep, the four hours of restless sleep he did manage to get not leaving him feeling too rested as his muscles and bones still ached from the previous battle.

They marched along, constantly on the lookout for trouble as they followed the directions given to them by the villagers. They had to stop a few times to clarify which path they were to take as the reality of the terrain and environment was very different to the map Grim had drawn from the directions he had received. The map only consisted of the path they were to take and the major landmarks they would encounter along the way. Grim wasn't even sure they were going the right way, but they had little choice but to continue and hope they were where they were supposed to be.

Their journey came to an abrupt halt when they came to a fork in the road, the landmark being signified by a huge, towering building that stretched up into the abyssal darkness. Grim recognised the skyscraper as the one they wanted by the massive, ancient sign promoting Coca-Cola. He referred to the map on his HUD and noted they were to take the left-hand road here, the only problem being there were two roads that went left. One at their 9 o'clock and another at their 11. The old man hadn't specified which of the two was correct. They spent some time deliberating which path to take before Grim finally settled on the road at their 9 o'clock. The way the elder had given the directions made him settle upon that path, although with some uncertainty. He had told them to take a turn left, the other path was more straight ahead than a turn, due to the angle of the roadway. It made sense, and he hoped he hadn't misinterpreted the man's fractured speech. Unsure of whether they had made the right choice, the commandos ventured forth down the road.

Chapter Seven:

Hours passed as they continued their trek through the darkness, eagerly anticipating the appearance of their next landmark, to be comforted by the fact they were indeed heading in the right direction. The more time passed the more increasingly anxious they became as time seemed to drag on without end, and still the ancient arena was nowhere to be seen. The commandos training and professionalism lent them the discipline and self-awareness necessary to deal with stressful situations, but the anxiety provoking environment of Downtown had proven to be a challenge, even for them.

The notion that perhaps he had been wrong, and the old man had indeed lied to them and sent them off on a march into oblivion occurred to Grim. He had thought Caskar was playing one game when he was in fact playing another, in effect pulling a double bluff in a genius move he couldn't help but admire. Shaking his head, he pulled himself out of his musings and returned his attention to the task at hand. It wouldn't do to get caught up in obsessing over hypothetical situations.

Not long after the arena finally appeared in the distance, bringing a collective sigh of relief from the team of commandos. They cut across the arena grounds and into an even older neighbourhood that was ancient when the arena was young. Here the buildings were narrower and packed tightly together as narrow streets wound their way through the maze of Georgian architecture dating back almost a millennium.

Grim tightened his grip on his blaster, ever vigilant of their surroundings as buildings loomed around them, the potential for an ambush being high as many promising options from which to mount one presented themselves. He flicked over to infrared, scanning the area with his sensors to make sure no one was lying in wait. He was sure it wasn't coincidental that their path had led them to this place. Although, as he had expected, no one lay in wait for them up ahead. Apart from the odd heat signature of a rodent the area was devoid of life.

KA-BOOM!!

The building on their right suddenly exploded with a plume of flame and flying brick and mortar, sending the commandos hurtling through the air as they were hurled from their feet by the force of the blast. The opposing wall brought Cram's flight to an abrupt and painful end as he hit it with a bone rattling crunch that left long, jagged cracks in the bricks.  
Large pieces of flying masonry hit Wes in the side of the head as he went down, rattling his brain inside his helmet, the armour plating saving his life.

Clouds of dust, smoke and powdered masonry clung to the air as the commandos lay on the ground, surrounded by debris, and began climbing to their feet. Aches and pains suddenly flaring to life as their bodies protested the movement. The sudden explosion left most of the team dazed and confused, as the shock of the unexpected assault wrapped them in an icy, tingling blanket of fear and anxiety.

As he rolled over on his stomach and climbed onto his hands and knees Grim identified the cause of the explosion, a mine. When they had walked past the device the movement had activated and set it off. No sooner had he completed this thought than the whine of blaster fire filled his ears and streaks of crimson energy began to rain down upon their position.

"Caskar!! Grim screamed. "Take cover."

The commandos leapt to their feet and ran for cover. The lieutenant and Cram taking shelter behind a crumbling section of wall that now lie across the street, while the other four ran for cover, Dex and Jet crouching within the smouldering remains of the exploded building.

"I'm hit," Cram exclaimed, the pain evident in his voice.

Grim looked down and immediately identified the injury. A fist sized hole had been blown in the side of the sergeant's armour, a buckled shard of rusted, ancient steel protruding from his side as blood leaked from under it, slowly running down the polished black armour. "Jynx," he swore.

The smoke, dust and ash from the explosion did them the unintentional favour of providing them with extra cover, making their positions difficult to pinpoint. Otherwise Caskar might have taken them all out before they could scramble for safety.

A flurry of blaster bolts collided with the wall, blowing chunks of brick into the air that peppered the armour of the commandos hiding behind it.

They returned fire, a volley of retaliatory shots rocketing through the smoke and darkness in the general direction of their attacker.

They heard a descending whistle and Grim had just enough time to shout a warning of "Grenade," before the projectile drove itself into the smouldering remains of the blown-out building. Right where Jet and Dex had positioned themselves as it brought the crumbling building down on top of them. With a final volley of blaster fire, the assault stopped as suddenly as it had begun and an unsettling silence returned to the world.

Grim rose from behind the wall as Wes and Cash emerged from their hiding places, rushing over to attend to their fallen comrades, trapped under the rubble of the now demolished building.

"Dex, Dex," Wes shouted over the comm as he and Cash raced to the scene of the explosion and began pawing among the rubble.

A series of pained groans came over the comm. "Wh....what happened?" Jet asked, disorientated and rattled by the force of the blast and the impact of building materials that had buried him and Dex under a pile of rubble.

"Dex," Wes called out again, an uncoherent, mumbled response from the commando answering his calls.

"I'll see to them, Cram is wounded," Grim said joining them.

"Copy that," Wes replied with a nod and moved off to tend to the wounded soldier.

Grim and Cash began sifting through the rubble, casting aside bits of broken masonry and lifting debris from their fallen comrades. The pile of rubble shifted as the buried commandoes tried to dig their way out, fighting against the weight of the masonry that covered them. The two commandos stumbled to their feet, their armour dinged, scratched and torn, having saved their lives.

Cash helped an unsteady Jet to regain his balance. "You've got a nasty habit of being in the wrong place kid," he said. "And a stroke of luck to go with it that a gambler would be envious of."

"Ha, weird, I don't feel very lucky," Jet replied, looking around as if seeing their surroundings for the first time.

Dex scrambled to his feet, a sharp, throbbing pain in his right leg made him look down to see a long gash in the armour, blood and torn flesh being visible through the tear in his thigh plate as blood began seeping from the wound.

Noticing the wounded commando Grim and Cash rushed to his assistance, each getting under either side of him and helping him to where the medic was treating Cram's injury. They eased him to the ground near Cram and he leant back against the wall, removing his helmet and activating its torch as it lit the area around him with its soft, pale glow.

Numbing the area around the wound with an injection from his med pack, Wes removed the shard of metal from Cram's side and treated the wound. Disinfecting it with a spray he then withdrew a haemostatic syringe and inserted it into the wound, filling it with a blue liquid that shortly after oxidising turned into a foam and expanded, filling the wound and soaking up the blood. The medic placed a tourniquet over the injury, taping it with an airtight seal that would hold the foam in place and prevent any further bleeding. The other commandos watched as he treated Cram's injury, marvelling at the speed and efficiency with which he worked. A few minutes after beginning he was finished and applying putty armour over the hole before he moved on to treating Dex's leg. Soon Dex was also back on his feet, although walking with a noticeable limp.

"Regroup and prepare to move out," Grim ordered. "Caskar just hit us hard, which means he's not far away. Let's get moving. Form up on me, on the double, move it. We've a traitor to catch," the lieutenant growled, leading the way after the renegade commando. The rest of the team followed along behind him, Dex being assigned once more to the rear of the group seeing as his mobility was impeded by his injury.

They weaved their way through the winding narrow streets, ever vigilant for signs of another impending attack as they scanned their surroundings. They came to an area where the buildings spread out once more, the old houses giving way to another industrial area. This one was noticeably more ancient and run down than the previous one they had been through.

Grim noted a large, block shaped cement building that served as a docking bay for vehicles of the age. Each level had a significant gap in its wall before the next floor began, the perfect spot from which to mount an ambush. He had hardly completed his assessment before a burst of flame flashed to life on one of the upper levels and his HUD screeched with a warning. "Incoming," he roared.

"Take cover," Cash shouted as the commandos all fled in different directions, diving for cover.

The grenade drove itself into the ground where they had stood seconds before and exploded, leaving a large crater in its wake. The shockwave from the blast knocked Dex and Jet from their feet, as the grenade exploded with a ball of fire and shrapnel that flew in every direction.

Cash looked down at his chest to see an inch long piece of shrapnel protruding from his sternum and with a snort of disdain returned fire in kind, hie rifle discharging with the familiar thunk of a grenade launch as it sped from the barrel and smashed into the concrete wall of the building, right where Caskar had been. "Suck on that," he snarled.

"Nice shot," Grim commented. "But I doubt he stuck around to let us return fire."

"Nope, there he goes," Wes said returning to his feet and gesturing to the right of the building.

Grim looked and zoomed in on the area, just in time to see the back of Caskar's armour disappear around a corner. He growled upon spotting the traitor and leapt to his feet. "Cash, Jet, on me," he ordered and took off at a run after the retreating renegade. He activated his scanner as he did so, not forgetting to check for any potential traps that could lie in wait.

Jet and Cash, taken by surprise were a bit slow acknowledging the order, but followed close behind their commander, holding their weapons at the ready as they raced after Caskar. Wes, Cram and Dex followed not too far behind, the other two matching pace with Dex who couldn't manage much more than a jog.

They followed him into the street, turning the corner and looking down the length of the long, narrow road, flanked on either side by the festering remains of the industry of a long dead civilisation. Caskar had disappeared from view up ahead, the darkness consuming him where their night vision sensors couldn't penetrate at this distance.

Grim switched on his infrared scanner and he appeared up ahead once more, shuffling along at a noticeably slower rate than he had been moving. A feral grin formed on his lips, apparently Caskar's injury was really wearing him down after all the running he had done. Like a predator smelling blood he homed in on his target, bringing his blaster up as he ran and followed the heat signature around a corner, whipping around and opening fire as he strafed his way across the street, pumping several bolts into his target.

Caskar stopped, shuddered, and fell to the ground, hit by a trio of bolts.

Grim switched back to night vision and approached the corpse, Jet and Cash rounding the corner and joining him.

"Nice shootin' chief," Jet congratulated him.

Something felt off. It was too easy. He'd gunned Caskar down like he was game without much effort at all. Cautiously he approached the corpse and as it came within focus, he realised the truth. The corpse he'd shot wasn't Jax Caskar.

"Who the fuck's that?" Jet asked, his question echoing their sentiments.

"Dunno, but it ain't Jax Caskar, that's for sure," Cash commented, as he studied the corpse.

Grim kicked the corpse over onto its back. The corpse that lay sprawled on the ground before them was of some hideously deformed humanoid with sickly grey skin. Dressed in tattered rags he was barely clothed and filthy, looking more animal than man, his expression curiously blank and lifeless.

"Sheesh, handsome he ain't," Cash exclaimed.

"Still better looking than the CO, right boss?" Jet joked.

Grim responded with a growl, looking about their position. "Something's not right," he said.

As if on cue, a nearby ancient and rusted gate swung open and two dozen humanoids resembling the corpse exploded out of the gateway. They raced towards the commandos with arms outstretched, hooting and hollering in excitement as they rushed the soldiers.

"What the jynx?" Jet cried. "What are these things?"  
"Target practice," Grim said as he raised his blaster and began firing on the group of deformed mutants charging towards them. His first shot pulverised the face of the foremost target, the second and third tearing through the chest of another, dropping it to the ground as it twitched in its death throes.

Cash and Jet followed his lead and began firing on the hideous mutants as the three of them backed away from their attackers, the combined blaster fire dropping half of them in a matter of seconds.

Despite the ease with which the commandos cut down their attackers the mutants weren't put off by the deaths of half their brethren, as they just kept coming, racing head on into the line of blaster fire as they ran over the corpses of their fallen.

Cash blew the arm off one with two bolts into its shoulder, another's knee exploded with a shower of blood as Jet took his legs out from under him.

Amazingly, despite the loss of limbs and the intense pain they were surely in, they still came at the commandos, as if driven by a pure blood lust.

Grim put a bolt between the eyes of another as it careened to the ground. "Aim for kill shots," he ordered. "Anything else just slows them down."

As the mutants closed in on the commandos they switched to automatic via their commander's order and sprayed the group with lower calibre, higher density blaster fire. The effect was devastating. Gouts of blood erupted from the mutants as they were hit by multiple bolts, chucks of meat, bone and guts adding to the carnage as they were mowed down without mercy. Blood splashed from pulverised meat, splattering the commandos' armour with sticky crimson gore. The last of the group's face burst, half of it vanishing in a pulpy mess as it bellowed, the insides of its skull clearly visible as various liquids oozed down its face. It came lumbering towards them still.

Cash put another bolt into its skull, its head exploding with a splatter of blood and brains as it fell to the ground with a wet thud.

It was in that moment that Wes, Dex and Cram joined them, rounding the corner and uttering cries of surprise upon seeing the carnage laid out before them.

"Whoa, what happened here?" Wes asked.

"We ran into some of the locals, not the friendliest of folk," Cash replied.

"Jynx," Dex exclaimed. "They're like some sort of hideous mutants, freaks or something."

"I guess the stories were true," Wes muttered.

"Stories?" Jet asked.

"Yeah, you know? All those stories about how toxic waste dumped Downtown by the Federation over the years turned some of the inhabitants of those areas in horribly deformed mutants?" Cram said. "Apparently the radiation stunted a lot of their brain development as well and left them as little more than wild beasts. Seems it was true after all."

The sounds of hooting and hollering from the distance suddenly filled their ears, rapidly getting louder as they came closer.

"Looks like we're about to meet the rest of them," Cash said, turning to the source of the noise.

Grim turned and surveyed the way they had come, considering whether they could retreat back that way and circle around the oncoming horde, when a building behind them exploded. The building fell onto the street with a hail of debris that blocked the route from which they had come, leaving them with no means of escaping the pack that bore down on them.

"Caskar," Grim snarled, turning back to face the hollering mob. "Form up," he barked, noting the area left them with no means of taking cover or putting any sort of barrier between themselves and their attackers. "Tanga formation, single shot, fire at will," he ordered taking his position in the second row of commandos flanked by Cram and Cash on either side of him, spread out three meters from each of them. The other three crouched in front of them at a slightly obscure angle, with Dex and Wes filling the gaps between them with Jet on the far-left hand side.

The commandos stood ready and waiting, gripping their blaster rifles and standing silent and statuesque as they waited for the freaks to descend upon them.

"Load grenades. Cram you're 1, Crash 2," Grim instructed, cocking his rifle.

The other two acknowledged his order and loaded grenades with the distinctive double click as they cocked their launchers.

The mutants rounded the corner up ahead and immediately upon spotting the commandos began running towards them, hooting and hollering as they charged.

Grim wasted no time giving the order. "Open fire," he shouted as he began firing on the oncoming horde.

The other soldiers needed no further encouragement and blaster bolts lit the darkness like a dazzling light show, impacting with the rushing mass of bodies as gouts of blood flew through the air and their targets fell to the ground.

The assault of blaster fire only seemed to excite them more and drive them into a frenzy. They began sprinting down the street towards the besieged commandos, their numbers swelling as they came into view and numbered at over a hundred of the ravenous, shrieking abominations, intent on devouring the commandos.

"One," Grim shouted over the din, he command being answer by a plume of smoke bursting forth from Cram's rifle as a grenade rocketed from the barrel, ploughing into the oncoming horde with an impressive explosion that sent bodies hurtling through the air, among the shower of blood, guts, limbs and chunks of burning flesh.

But they kept coming, a sizeable hole appearing in their ranks, only to be filled by more of the onrushing mob.

Grim fired, launching a grenade of his own that barrelled into the front ranks, blowing eight of them to pieces and knocking others from their feet, setting fire to some and maiming others as they resumed their stampede. Volleys of blaster bolts decimated the front line, dropping almost a dozen to the ground as they withered and shrieked in agony, or hit the street dead. "Three," Grim said, the grenade erupting from the barrel before he'd finished the word, landing in the middle of the mutant ranks and blowing everything around it to pieces in a burst of blood, meat and flaming debris.

Jet shot one right between the eyes, hit another with several bolts to the chest and pumped another full of bolts to the stomach, as the wounds spilled open and his innards splattered onto the street. "Jynx, there's so fucking many of them. They just keep coming," he screamed over the comm, the whine of blaster fire almost drowning out his words as it echoed throughout the abyssal caverns of Downtown.

The horde kept coming, the abominable mutants trampling their dead. Some stumbling, slipping and sliding in the blood and guts strewn across the street as they charged the commandos. The freaks were closing in on their position, despite their best efforts to stem the assault they ignored the existential threat, having no regard for their own lives or their comrades as they were consumed by the primal instinct to feed.

Dex dropped four in quick succession, perfectly aimed head shots striking them all in the face and blowing their skulls to pieces.

The horde loomed in front of them, rapidly advancing as they came closer, their cries taking on a more sinister tone as they began to snarl, scream, and hiss at the commandos.

Grim decided upon a new tactic. "Cease fire. Forward rank, load grenades," he ordered.

The whine of blaster fire shuddered to a halt, a series of double clicks sounding as the three kneeling commandos cocked their rifles and took aim at the advancing mass of snarling mutants.

"Fire," Grim snarled.

The trio of grenades rocketed from their prisons and pummelled the charging formation one after another. The three explosions making the ground rumble under their feet as their attackers were consumed by fire. Shrapnel and igniting explosives from the devices wreaking havoc within their ranks. The expanding balls of fire receded into nothingness just as quickly as they had burst to life, leaving a scene of carnage and devastation in their wake as plumes of black smoke wafted throughout the street. The gap between the mutants and commandos had been widened significantly as dozens of them lay dead or wounded. The charred remains of corpses littered the street with sticky, crimson gore being splattered all over the walls of adjacent buildings.

Silence descended upon them for a few, brief, peaceful seconds before the roars of the grotesquely deformed mutants once again filled the night and they came galloping towards them once more. Their relentless onslaught even in the face of having two thirds of their number slaughtered unnerved the commandos, there was something about the reckless abandon with which they threw themselves at the enemy that was disturbing.

They advanced on the commandos once more, Grim ordering his men to hold their fire and activate their flame throwers. His finger hovered over the button to ignite the incendiary device, waiting until they got within range before giving the order. Then they hit the ten-meter mark, "Light em up," he barked, pressing the button and holding it as a long, serpentine burst of flame erupted from the barrel. The other commandos followed suit and half a dozen bursts of flame licked out at the freaks.

The front ranks burst into flames, the fire catching hold of their flesh and quickly spreading to consume them as they shrieked in agonised terror. The ones behind those in front pushed them forwards and into the flames, a wall of fire igniting as they burned and fell to the ground, the corpses burning as the fire spread to consume each wave of mutants as they charged.

The sight of these hideously mutated freaks burning and shrieking in pain brought a smile to Grim's lips. The abominations surged forwards, desperately trying to get their hands on the soldiers as they shambled towards them, engulfed in flames before they finally collapsed at the commandos' feet. "Move out, crescent formation, let's finish these things off," Grim said.

The commandos fanned out into a single line as they fired bursts at flames at the remaining mutants, their onslaught having been halted as the vanguard of their formation was obliterated by the flames.

The remaining two dozen ran at the commandos in small, disjointed groups, any sense of cohesion in their assault being lost as the soldiers moved to mop up the survivors.

Calmly and with textbook precision the commandos moved through the remnants of the horde, rhythmic blaster fire putting down the survivors with ease as they approached the crescent formation. Then it was over. The street was littered with over a hundred corpses, blood splattered the buildings around them and collected in pools of congealed, sticky crimson gore. Body parts, guts and entrails were spread throughout the street among the dead bodies, many with their organs and innards exposed or falling out onto the road through mutilated, torn and ruptured flesh that had been shredded by grenades or blaster fire. The smell of scorched flesh, blood and blaster discharge was overpowering.

"Fuck me, what a massacre," Jet said, his tone betraying shock more than enjoyment as he surveyed the scene of the slaughter and stifled the urge to vomit.

Grim narrowed his eyes in the direction Caskar had fled. "Reform, move it," he barked, as they hurried to obey. "We've got Caskar on the run now," he said, "He can run, but he can't hide."

Chapter Eight:

The commandos followed Caskar's path of retreat, Grim regularly consulting the directions they had been given. Their senses alert they stood on edge and ready for any surprises he may have in store for them. Several hours passed as they closed in on their target's destination, and the purported meeting area for his rendezvous with the Syndicate rebels. According to their informant the meeting place was an ancient stadium that had been used for sporting events back in the twenty first century. Their situation was looking desperate as their power supply fell to 40% and their ammo supplies were running low after the confrontation with the horde of mutants.

The shortest way to the stadium, thanks to a large amount of decay and fallen debris in the area, and conveniently the most appealing route for anyone wanting to set an ambush, was through an ancient factory complex which was a literal maze of rooms, ancient machinery, hallways, catwalks and multiple levels.

Grim led his men into the building, through a decayed foyer and past a cluster of offices and administration areas. The lieutenant scanned the area for any live electronic devices that could be explosives or a trap of some sort. When nothing flashed on his feed he continued through the administrative area, heading towards the factory itself.

He kicked open the door to the factory floor with his blaster raised and moved into the room, scanning the area from left to right as the rest of the team shuffled in behind him.

Something in the office adjacent from the entrance exploded as Grim heard the blast that shook the building, feeling the heat of the fire through his armour as he stumbled and fell to his knees.

Blaster fire rang out from an office at the end of the hall, firing on the commandos as they lay on the ground, the force of the blast blowing them off their feet and sending them crashing to the ground as their armour was peppered with shrapnel.

Someone started screaming in agony, their cries over the comm sending an icy shiver up the spines of their teammates as it became apparent someone was badly wounded.

Wes raised his head above the whine of blaster fire and looked around, spotting Dex several meters away, laying against the doorframe to the factory, a wet splattering of blood over the floor originating from his side.

"I'm hit," Dex declared between sobs. "Oh fuck," he cried looking down at the wound, seeing his insides on display as blood gushed from the hole in his stomach.

Wes crawled over to him, blaster bolts blowing holes in the ground inches away, almost hitting Jet as he tried to take cover by rolling up against the wall and placing his hands over his head.

Cram climbed to his knees and sighted the target, seeing it was a sidearm jury rigged to begin firing after the detonation. At this distance they hadn't noticed it sitting there, ready and waiting. He frowned and fired off two bolts, the crimson blasts of energy pulverising the auto gun with a burst of flames and sparks as it exploded, and the incoming fire ceased.

Wes leapt to his feet and rushed to Dex's aid, the rest of the squad picking themselves up and crowding around their wounded comrade as they watched Wes tend to his wounds. The concern was heavy within the group. Dex had been seriously wounded and was bleeding out fast. The explosion had blown a huge gash in his side that had decimated his armour and torn a wide, deep laceration in his flesh.

Grim ordered the rest of the squad to attention, Cram, Cash and Jet forming up on him as they continued the hunt.

Wes remained with Dex to operate on the wounded commando and help to patch him up, he just hoped he possessed the skills necessary to keep his comrade alive long enough for him to get to a hospital. "You've got to call in the gunship, Lieutenant," he addressed Grim over the comm. "He needs surgery asap. There's only so much I can do with a field kit."

"Affirmative," Grim acknowledged, making a dispatch to the gunship on standby to extract them. "Man down, repeat man down, request immediate medical evac."

"Copy Lieutenant. We'll be there as quick as we can. Just hold tight," came the static ridden response.

Grim cut the commline and led his four man team onto the factory floor, the commandos surveying their surroundings as they made their way through the maze of ancient machinery, ever vigilant for an ambush as their anxiety levels ran high. Thus far Caskar had successfully ambushed them three times and had been gradually wearing them down, despite their best efforts. Worse, now they were reduced to an active team of four, greatly increasing the odds in their opponent's favour.

"Bogey at two o'clock," Cram shouted a warning, just before blaster fire began to rain upon them from a catwalk above.

Grim ducked behind some rusted machinery as several bolts flew over his head and the other commandos dived for cover.

Cash poked his blaster out from around the machine, chancing a look at the source of the weapon's fire. Spotting Caskar crouched on the catwalk above, taking cover behind a large steel plate, he fired several bolts at their attacker before dodging back behind his shelter.

Cram risked rising to return fire, standing just long enough for his rifle to spit a salvo of blaster bolts in Caskar's direction before he ducked down once more.

"Give me some cover fire," Grim snapped, preparing to expose himself to their target so he could get a clear shot at him. One good shot was all he needed.

"Copy chief, one distraction coming up," Jet said, popping up and unleashing a salvo of automatic fire at Caskar, the bolts impacting with the section of steel he'd set up as a barricade and shredding it.

Caskar ducked down and his assault paused for several seconds.

It was all the chance Grim needed. He stood and took aim, pulling the trigger several times as twin bolts burst from the barrel. The first virtually disintegrated part of his makeshift cover and the second smashing into his shoulder with a shower of sparks that made him stumble.

A loose volley of shots answered Grim, being sprayed in his general direction as Caskar returned fire, turned and fled through a side door, his distinctive black armour disappearing into a corridor above.

"Don't let him escape," Grim snarled, standing and taking off after their quarry.

The other three commandos followed suit, keen to get their hands on the devious and illusive Jax Caskar; who'd forced them into playing this deceptive game of cat and mouse where he appeared to be the hunted, but was in fact, the hunter. They followed him down a long, empty corridor with a pair of swinging doors at the end, a flurry of bolts blowing craters in the doors and adjacent wall as they fired at him and he ducked around the corner.

Grim saw it as soon as Caskar moved aside, no longer blocking it from view. But the doors were ajar and behind them on an ancient gurney sat a small tank and device on top of it. He instantly recognised it as the flame thrower and fuel tank from their blaster rifles.

"Get down," Grim shouted, diving to the ground as the flame thrower activated and belched forth long gouts of flame that passed overhead just inches above the commandos who threw themselves to the ground just in time.

Grim raised his blaster and blew the thing to pieces as it exploded in a ball of flames.  
He leapt to his feet and took off after Caskar, the other commandos scrambling to keep up as they raced through the factory, running through a maze of hallways and corridors, following the sound of the renegade's retreating footsteps echoing throughout the building. They followed him into a large storage facility at the rear of the building, towards the exit onto the loading dock. The area was full of ancient crates, shipping containers and long abandoned equipment and supplies, making it a labyrinthine journey to the loading dock.

Jet suddenly howled in pain and whirled around, firing at the darkness as a shadow slipped past him, driving the blade of a combat knife into his side, just above the hip where his thigh armour met with the cuirass. "Jynx," he cried, keeling over. "He fucking stabbed me."

Grim and Cram swooped on the area, sweeping it to catch Caskar before he could retreat, but to no avail. Silent, fast and lethal, he had struck and made a swift get away before anyone could react. "Hold on kid, we'll get you some help as quick as we can," Cash assured him as he inspected the wound. "It's fucking deep, but not fatal. Not if we can get you to a doctor."

Jet lowered himself to the ground and Cash began tending to the wound with what meagre medical gear standard commandos carried. "Fuck, that's another one of us out of commission for this fight," Cash said as Grim and Cram joined them. "You're gonna have to go back to Wes so he can treat it. Wait it out with them until help arrives," Cash instructed.

"I'll be fine, we've got to get Caskar," Jet insisted as he stood, Cash helping him to his feet.

"Negative," Grim interrupted. "You'll bleed to death before then. Join Wes and leave Caskar to us. That's an order Corporeal."

Jet nodded and threw him a sloppy salute before he turned and shuffled off the way they had come.

Grim led the two sergeants out of the factory and across the stadium grounds, his two subordinates flanking him on either side as they jogged through the gardens and paved areas around the ancient entertainment complex. They entered via the main entry, a wide crescent shaped screen of a dozen double glass doors that had long since broken.

Caskar appeared at the top of a flight of ancient escalators on the opposite side of the expansive foyer. His rifle bucked with a grenade launch as the commandos ran and dived for cover.

The ground shook with the rumble of the explosion.

Grim covered his head with his arms and grit his teeth as he felt something bite the flesh of his left arm as pain shot through him. He immediately leapt up and returned fire, Cash and Cram doing the same as they fired a flurry of bolts at him from three directions.

Caskar turned and fled into the stadium, not bothering to stop and engage the commandos.

Grim snarled in rage. "Caskar!" he roared at the retreating traitor, climbing to his feet and sprinting after his foe, his blood boiling as a white-hot rage consumed him. He was thoroughly sick of this hit and run garbage, being made to chase Caskar while he was slowly dismantling his team. Ignoring the pain in his arm where a shard of shrapnel had buried itself in his bicep as blood ran freely from the wound, he charged up the escalators, with Cash and Cram hot on his tail. Grim reached the top of the escalators and looked around, spotting Caskar as he disappeared through a ruined doorway that lead down into the lower grandstands. "Stand and fight me you coward," he bellowed, going after his quarry. His mind consumed by the thought of catching up with Caskar and wrapping his hands around the deserter's neck.

The commandos passed under the doorway and came out into the grandstand. The stands wrapped around the circumference of the stadium with a large pitch of dirt in the centre.

A flurry of blaster bolts came streaming towards them as they all dived for cover.

Cash felt the intense heat of a bolt pass by him, leaving a long, scorched laceration across his chest armour.

Grim grunted as a bolt smashed into his sternum, his armour taking the brunt of the impact. He ducked for cover behind rows of crumbling seats and returned fire, firing a trio of bolts at his attacker as they became embroiled in a fire fight.

Cram's armour flashed warning signs at him, which he ignored and shut off. His suit's defence capabilities compromised following the beating it had taken over the course of the mission. He crouched behind seats across the walkway from Grim and sprayed a volley of automatic fire at their target, the bolts chewing through the chairs and shredding them with a spray of plastic and metal.

Cash rolled up and over into a kneeling position as he fired on Caskar, hurling himself aside as a volley of return fire threatened to rip him to shreds.

A predatory grin formed on Grim's lips as he realised they had Caskar pinned down and unable to escape, one against three he was hard pressed just to keep them at bay.

A sudden grenade launch from Caskar's position barely gave Cash and Cram time to dive aside. The commandos were hit by the shockwave of the blast which sent them hurtling through the air. Their HUD systems screaming in protest as their armour absorbed blast damage and was pock marked and scorched with shrapnel and flames, chunks being blown out of the protective plate.

While the commandos were distracted by the grenade Caskar leapt to his feet and ran for cover, throwing himself behind a raised concrete section that divided several seating sections.

Grim rose and fired at Caskar as he took cover. His anger and frustration at the situation reaching boiling point. Caskar having commandeered a Federation gunship had taken spare ammo, grenades and equipment for the coming fight, being far more prepared for this than they had anticipated.

"Mother fucker," Cram swore. "Eat this," he hissed, returning Caskar's hospitality with his last grenade.

The grenade slammed into the cement barricade, blowing a massive hole in the wall.  
Cask appeared from within the cloud of smoke, vapourised cement and ash, exposed from the chest upwards thanks to Cram's demolition work. He fired an arching fire of bolts at the three commandos attacking his position, the rifle bucking with the sustained automatic fire.

The three commandos exchanged salvos of blaster fire with the renegade when a sudden noise of incoming engines and the light of a pair of spotlights tore their attention from the battle.

"What the jynx?" Cram exclaimed upon seeing a small freighter descend from the sky and land on the stadium floor, the two spotlights lighting the area with their luminescent glow.

"I believe that would be Caskar's ride out of here," Cash replied.

"Well let's make sure he doesn't get the chance to take it," Grim said, pouring another volley of blaster bolts at Caskar's hiding spot.

"Looks like we've got company," Cash said.

Grim glanced towards the freighter and swore as the boarding ramp descended and two dozen Syndicate rebels disembarked, wielding weapons with half of them taking up defensive positions around the ship as the other half came running across the field to join the fight. "Jynx," Grim swore. "Just what we fucking need. Cash, Cram, you're on our uninvited guests, keep them occupied while I deal with Caskar," he ordered, cocking his rifle and loading his last grenade into the barrel. He opened a commline to the gunship. "Mayday, mayday, Lieutenant Dazitz of Revenant Squadron calling for immediate air support. We're pinned down and under attack from Syndicate rebels. I repeat we're pinned down by Syndicate rebels and request immediate air support."

The reply was almost instantaneous. "Copy Lieutenant, gunship Lightning is inbound to provide medical evac, hold tight Revenants, we'll be there as fast as we can."

Cash acknowledged the order by cocking his rifle, also down to his last grenade as their ammo supplies ran thin. "Copy that, let's rock," he declared, descending the stairs in leaps and bounds until he reached the cement walkway around the base of the stand.

Cram ejected his empty clip and loaded his last. He raised his blaster and began firing on the incoming rebels, he and Cash peppering their ranks with blaster fire as they moved into position.

The Syndicate troops ran for cover and began returning fire, while Cash and Cram took up positions and exchanged blaster fire with the rebels.

Cash's rifle bucked with an audible thud of grenade fire, as the projectile launched and span through the air, leaving a trail of exhaust smoke in its wake as it climbed and then descended towards the rebels. The grenade ploughed into the seating section with an impressive explosion that incinerated three of the rebels, their screams being cut short as they were burned alive in seconds.

Caskar and Grim exchanged volleys of blaster fire, each raising just long enough to fire several rounds before he took cover once more.

Grim launched the last of his grenades as the concrete wall was obliterated.

Caskar was sent hurtling backwards by the blast as he rolled with the fall and came up on his knees, spraying Grim's position with a salvo of automatic blaster fire.

Cash and Cram found themselves being besieged by enemy fire on two fronts as they were forced to fall back behind a concrete barrier that divided seating sections. Only having a two-foot barrier to take shelter behind they took up firing positions with Cram taking those surrounding the freighter and Cash maintaining his assault on the group that occupied the stands. Five of them lay dead with Cash making it six as another rose and fired at him, standing for a fraction of a second too long, giving Cash the opportunity to put two bolts into him, one in the chest and the next through his throat.

Cram dropped two of them taking cover around the freighter, but found it difficult to get a good shot at any of the others, as they were protected by the vessel.

Blaster bolts flew all around the two commandos, occasionally grazing their armour or sending debris spraying over them as they found themselves being overwhelmed by the incoming fire.

They heard a whistle and saw a grenade go hurtling over their heads and land among the group in the grandstands, exploding in a ball of flame as it annihilated four of them, sending corpses and chunks of meat flying. The four remaining suddenly lost interest in the battle and began to retreat, running back for the safety of the freighter as their cover became scarce and most of their brethren lay dead.

Cash and Cram turned to the source of the assault and saw Wes making his way towards them as he opened fire on the group surrounding the freighter. "I thought you guys could use some help," he said.

"Jynx yes," Cram replied with a chuckle as Wes joined them and the three commandos began their assault on the freighter.

The celebration was short lived as the ship suddenly deployed blaster cannons and began firing upon their position, the high-powered cannons shredding the entire stand as the commandos tried to take cover from the onslaught of its powerful guns.

Grim noted Wes's arrival and the turn in the tide of the battle, but his smile faded when the freighter deployed powerful guns of its own and began a devastating assault on the grandstands. Its weapon's fire giving a morale boost to the Syndicate soldiers as they joined the fight with renewed vigour.

Grim and Caskar continued their duel, each of them being hit in turn as they battled. One shot hit Caskar in the shoulder, another obliterating his kneepad as he stumbled backwards and sprayed a volley of bolts at the lieutenant. Two of them hit Grim in the stomach, the first knocking the wind out of him before the second bolt scored the meat beneath, making him howl with pain and see stars from the agony that shot through him.  
He growled and roared with fury, leaping to his feet and returning fire as, to his opponent's surprise, he charged him, blaster firing all the while.

"Caskar," he roared as he ran at his arch nemesis, the other ducking down behind a row of ancient seats that were pulverised by the bolts.

Caskar rose and fired with one hand, his blade clutched in the other, ready to fight the marauding berserker hauling himself at him.

Grim released his blaster, letting it fall to the ground as he speared Caskar, the two of them tumbling over the barrier of the stands and down into the dirt below.

Caskar broke Grim's fall, landing with a heavy thud that drew a grunt from the deserter, as he lost his own rifle and Grim crashed on top of him.

The two of them began wrestling in the dirt, rolling back and forth, struggling for possession of the blade as Grim tried to prevent a determined Caskar from disembowelling him. Grim leapt aside as Caskar freed a hand and grabbed hold of his own combat knife, drawing it from its sheaf and attempting to drive it into his kidney. The two of them scrambled to their feet as Caskar had possession of both blades and came gliding towards Grim, slashing and thrusting at him with each in turn.

Grim kept his distance from the other commando, dodging and weaving around his attacks as he looked for an opening, waiting for his chance to disarm his opponent.

Caskar came at him again and again, stabbing, slashing, and hacking at him as he continued to shuffle about. "What's wrong Dazitz, getting a little slow in your advancing years?" Caskar taunted. "Or just upset over the fact I'm going to enjoy killing your entire team?"

Grim snorted; but didn't respond. He wasn't about to get sucked into Caskar's games.

The freighter's guns were coming perilously close to the commando's position when they suddenly exploded, being hit by a rocket from the gunship as it swooped upon the stadium, launching a duo of rockets at the freighter, the two blowing massive holes in its hull and leaving it little more than a flaming husk. The gunnery pods on either side of the gunship opened fire, pouring bolts at the syndicate rebels as they attempted to flee, the heavy repeating blasters tearing them to pieces as the battle became a scene of butchery.

The three commandos cheered the gunship's timely arrival, saving them from what would surely have been their deaths.

Caskar came at Grim again, stabbing at his stomach with his left and following it up with a slash at Grim's neck with his right.

Grim hopped aside of the thrust and brought his arm up, blocking the right with his forearm as it sparked and left a gash in the plate. He suddenly ducked down and deftly retrieved Caskar's fallen blaster with his right hand, swinging it around and blocking another strike at his chest with the rifle, grabbing the blaster with both hands he yanked it aside, making Caskar's arm go wide as he swung it up and around and brought it crashing down on Caskar's forearm, making him drop the blade in the process.

Caskar thrust the other blade forwards, driving it into Grim's abdomen, just above the hip where the thinner mesh armour was located.

Grim roared in pain, dropping the rifle he grabbed Caskar by the forearms and yanked him forwards, thrusting his head out as he did so and delivering a devastating headbutt to Caskar that shattered his visor and dented the face plate.

Reeling from the blow Caskar stumbled back, only to have Grim yank him back towards him once more and drive his boot into his crotch, doubling the deserter over before and causing him to drop the knife as Grim brought his knee smashing up into his face.

Caskar flew backwards and crashed to the ground.

Before he could move Grim was upon him, grabbing his helmet and tearing it from his head.

Caskar smiled up at the lieutenant and chuckled. "Fuck you Dazitz. You idiot, you have no idea what you're doing or who you really serve. If only you saw what I have seen."

Grim replied by driving his fist into Caskar's face, again and again.

His nose shattered, jaw broken and eyes swollen Caskar could only moan and writher about as Grim had him pinned beneath him.

Grim stood and strode over to retrieve the blaster.

Caskar rolled over and climbed onto his hands and knees, readying himself to attack once more when he looked up and saw Grim lower the blaster at him.  
"On the contrary, it is you who is fucked," Grim said as he pulled the trigger twice, putting two stun bolts into the renegade.

Caskar convulsed violently, thrashing about in the dirt before he stopped and went limp.

Grim cast the blaster aside and stooped over him, going over his person as he looked for the stolen data card. He finally found it. Holding it in his hand he stared at it for a few moments, Caskar's words playing over in his head. "If only you saw what I have seen," what had he seen? What information did this card contain that had made a loyal, dedicated solider turn renegade and desert? He found the thoughts disconcerting and considered pocketing the card and telling command it had never been found. He shook the thought aside and shrugged it off, it was none of his business. He had a job to do and he had done it, anything else was irrelevant.

Meanwhile the gunship had landed, and the remaining rebels disposed of. No quarter being shown to those who surrendered or were wounded during the battle. Happier than ever to see the welcome sight of the ship that would transport them out of there, the other commandos made a beeline for the ship while the gunners left the ship and went to Grim's aid, hauling a handcuffed Caskar on board.

The lieutenant met the others at the gunship, a smile forming on his lips as he spotted Jet and Dex safely on board.  
"We had to make a brief stop-over to pick them up," the pilot said, making sure their wounded were secure. "It was tough getting them out, but we managed. Excuse the delay, but they called in an evac request, heard some unfriendly locals nearby. Said you'd approve," he explained.

Grim nodded as they boarded the ship. "I certainly do Captain. Now if you don't mind my men and I would like nothing more than to get the jynx out of here," he said.

The captain chuckled, flashing him a goofy grin underneath the helmet's visor. "No problem Lieutenant. Easier done than said."

THE END.

About the author:

Cameron Walker is a thirty-two-year-old writer from Sydney, Australia where he resides with his two cats Bubbles and Einari. He first began writing in 2003 at the age of sixteen where he quickly became interested in writing fanfiction and soon went on to participate in chain stories and online text-based RPGs. His debut novel is the high seas pirate adventure novel Devil's Eye. He mostly writes speculative fiction in a wide range of genres, but specifically horror, fantasy, historical, cyberpunk and science fiction. Cameron cites R.L. Stine, George Lucas, J.R.R Tolkien, Robert Louis Stevenson, Joss Whedon and H.P. Lovecraft as the main influences on his writing. He is known for his eclectic style and willingness to always be experimenting, trying something new and pushing the boundaries of his work.

"The day I cease experimenting and pushing the envelope is the day I fail as a writer." – Cameron Walker.

