The smell of the earth was comforting to him. It took him to days long past where he could sit with the sun on his face for hours, just drinking it in as the smell of wheat and farm air took him off to a faraway place, free of strife and turmoil. He came out of the reverie, shaking his head free of nostalgia. No one said anything as they delved deeper into the earthwork passages of Osk. Tanus could make out the shadows of the people ahead of him; he was surprised that Jeg had only managed to hit his head once as they stepped over the uneven terrain. The silence of Osk Company was something new to Tanus; he was very much used to screaming and raving as they commenced with the slaughter. All of a sudden, the line of pirates stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Kami hissed from the shadows.

Jager seemed to look around, not really hearing what was said behind him. Tanus only sighed; he knew it was only a matter of time until they eventually got lost. Kami reached over Jeg’s massive shoulders and poked Jager in the shoulder.

“What, damnit?”

“What’s wrong? Why’d you stop?”

“Well, I always did get confused here…”

A collective sigh went up from the column as they hunched down in the earthen corridor. Tanus felt a drop of water hit his forehead and run down his face. He wiped it away with the back of his gloved hand. The tension was palpable as Jager assessed his surroundings. Snipes only chuckled in the darkness.

“Come now, my friends. What is life without a little risk? I have full trust in Jager’s abilities.”

Tanus only just stared at what he assumed to be the silhouette of the man he had grown to know as the “Mad King.”

“I really hope you’re kidding or drunk, Snipes,” Tanus said in a low whisper; the crew started to chuckle. All except Jager, who spat in derision. Tanus saw the flash of a flask as it hit Snipes’ lips. He took a long draw then placed it back under his coat.

“Eh, a little of column A, little of column B.”

“Fair enough.”

Without a word, Jager pressed on, leading them down a left passage. The smell of deep earth works gave way to a smell more akin to either decay or sewage; Tanus suspected it was a little of both. A blast of cold air hit him square in the face as they drove onward. It was both refreshing and slightly irritating at the same time. It left a nasty taste at the back of Tanus’ throat. They must be close to The Locker; he could taste bad decisions and life choices. Abs quipped up behind Tanus.

“Jager, how much longer do these tunnels go?”

Jager grunted in response as he ducked under a low hanging stone. As they proceeded further down the tunnels, Tanus the distinct hum of water running close by. Kami swore under her breath as she heard the noise too.

“Damnit it all. Do these empty out into the sewers?”

Jager shrugged as he continued on in his guiding. His frame blocked much of what was ahead of him.

“Yes and no. They’re more access ways than they are sewers, although it smells about as awful as sewer. A lot of the ones that survived ran down here and then made more passages for themselves.”

“Well, how much further do we have?”

“Not much longer. When the smell hits you hardest, that’s when you know. And from his distance, I’d say we’re another 500 meters out.”

“So how the hell do we find these so called survivors?” Jeg asked as he crouched down even lower to avoid smacking his head a second time.

“Well, here’s the thing… You don’t find them so much as they find you.”

Tanus grimaced a bit. He had seen what going stir crazy had done to soldiers and civilians alike. That, coupled with the thoughts of those undead buggers a few months back made him a little more than anxious. He pulled the Samurai Edge a little tighter into his chest.

“That sounds… more than unpleasant,” Bastard as he pulled his large brimmed hat down a little further over his eyes.

“Yeah… it can be. It should be fair to warn you that they try to bite. So keep all appendages close.”

Tanus looked down at his weapons just to be sure he had brought enough with him. The Rebel-1 Disruptor sat at his right hip, the war hammer slung over his shoulder. In a chest holster he had his Samurai Edge with a silencer and his M5 blaster rifle. Normally, he’d consider this under armed; he hated working from the shadows. They advanced further still into the shadows, the smell getting worse with each step. It was not much longer before Tanus began to see some light edge itself around Jager’s silhouette. Thank the Maker. It’s about damn time we got out of here. As they neared the end of the tunnel, it began to widen out slightly as a dim, blueish light illuminated the dark of the tunnel. As they came to the end, Jager held his hand up for the others to stop. Tanus froze. He heard them too: Voices. A pair of what sounded like refined voices echoed off the large stone walls of service tunnels; the sound of steel crunching down on the stone echoed in Tanus’ mind. They brought back memories… dark memories bathed in fire and blood. Blood lust filled him as he clenched his hands into fists, forcing himself to remain still. As they neared, he heard their conversation better.

“…The High Inquisitor is aware that the pirates have made their return? Why does he insist on sending patrols down here? Less return than are sent as it is.”

“You know not to question the High Inquisitor. Besides, it’s not as if the Pirates can actually break our ground hold. We control the surface, and it is only a matter of time until their space forces are broken with reinforcements.”

“Even still. These pirates are resourceful. If they’ve found a way to survive this long, then they will find a way to come back – like vermin.”

“And when they do, we will deal with them like we have the others. The High Inquisitor would very much like some new trophies.”

The two passed onwards, trading words as they continued their patrol. When their voices and footsteps faded, Jager dropped out of the hole in the wall, landing on his feet without making a sound. Each of them stepped forward and dropped down silently. Tanus peered out as he dropped down below; it was a lot further off the ground than he thought. As the others came in to join them, Kami, Jager and Snipes gathered at the center of the group. Snipes took in a deep breath and smiled.

“Ah. The Locker. How I’ve missed you. The sweet stench of decay, despair and drunken debauchery.”

“You know they couldn’t keep you away, Snipes,” Bastard said from the back.

“What do we do now? Any idea when the Survivors are coming?” Kami asked.

Jager shrugged nonchalantly as he started to look around. The halls were derelict with the exception of them, and nothing else was making a sound. Tanus took a long draw from his flash as he drew his Samurai Edge and attached the silencer to it. The occasional drip of water permeated the silence of the hall and the hum of the lights gave the whole environment a very eerie feel.

“There is no real plan. If we’re going to be found by these survivors, we need to start moving, although if they already knew we were here it wouldn’t surprise me. We just need to wait for them. But I still say we should get moving.”

“I fully agree,” Snipes said with his typical flourish. “Come! In a that way direction!”

Tanus only sighed as he fell in toe behind the Mad King. His swagger showed confidence and relaxation; Tanus couldn’t imagine a better place for Snipes. He was now at the eye of a storm – a chaotic storm whose sole purpose it was to wash away the stain the Crusaders had left upon their world. With one quick shift, Tanus knew that Snipes would crush them in a wave of violence and death. Tanus quieted the adrenaline rushing through his veins; soon, he would have his time for vengeance. Soon, he would make the Crusaders fear the dark.

A collective sigh rose up from the midsized group of exhausted pirates as they splashed and stumbled across the stinking puddles to rest upon the few dry patches to be found in the tunnels.  Bottles were revealed from the tender cradles of rags and cloth that prevented them from breaking, attracting the attention of others as their owners ripped the cork out from the opening with their teeth- producing a nostalgic popping noise.  Cigarras and cigarettes were clamped tight between the jaws of others, and were hidden behind hands that lit and shielded them.  It was not long before the smell of smoke and grog drowned own the stink of filth and rot- and so the rest was better than it could have been.

Beneath one of the dim lights that lit the passageway sat Ron, with his back to the mossy walls and both heels dug into the floorway of the dismal path, which made his ankles wet and toes dry.  He held in his hand a large rough sketchpad (kept onboard the Iron Victory as blueprint paper for the conceptions of repairs and onboard additions whilst voyaging in space) with which he flipped open to the midsection, where he could closer inspect the tracing he had made of the image they had seen on the wall only a few hours ago.  It was an ugly, unworldy image- but it had given Ron an idea.

After making a few hurried sketches, Ron shrugged off the knapsack that he had until now kept on his back and reached inside to feel around for a can of red marker paint, commonly used to mark where an incision of a pipe or a break in the main line should be made while onboard.  With a smug smile, Ron ripped the canister out of the bag and stood up, both feet sloshing in the mire as he took a step into the center of the aisle.  Then, turning around quickly he held the rough sketch in one hand, and in the other hand eyeballed a rough outline of what was portrayed on the paper upon the wall with a black cutting pen- about three times bigger in proportion than the drawing.  Then, holding the paper on the outside of the outline to prevent excess paint from running, he sprayed it in.  When finished, it resembled a pirate skull.

"What the hell is that?"

Ron turned around just in time to notice Tanus brushing past him to get a better look at the image.

"Looks like one of those shit symbols we saw just an hour ago." growled Jager.

"It's a Jelly fish." Ae said confidently.

Tanus reached over to touch it and retracted his hand suddenly as he felt the wet paint.  He grabbed at the papers which Ron held in his hand to wipe away the paint from his finger tips.

"Not dry yet, Cap'n." Ron chuckled.

"No shit." Tanus replied.  "So what is this?"

"Our mark." Ron replied smugly.  He had successfully captured most everyone's attention by this time, most of whom were genuinely curious rather than angry or annoyed.  Among them were Kami Sharpe and Snipes the Pirate King.

"Our mark?" Repeated Jager.

"Yeah." Ron said, almost nervously.  "You know, like our graffiti or clan sign."  Silence still.  "Well we don't have to use it..."

"It's not bad."  Snipes said suddenly.  "I like it."

"Simple enough." Kami shrugged.  "Besides, we need something to make us stand out from the competition."

"Still say it looks shitty." Jager grumbled.

People started to drift away.  Snipes pulled Ron aside to ask him about the design and to ask a few questions regarding the reproduction of the symbol, after introducing himself of course.  Ron agreed to make some copies of it, and even started to make up an outline for a flag.

After a few minutes, Snipes laughed and turned away to get another smoke and some rest.  As he walked over towards his things he said over his shoulder,

"I like your work, mate.  If you need me for anything else, let me know."

Fresh images of revenge filled Ron's mind at those words.  Revenge against the Vast Empire Army.  He manged to laugh and said, "Alright, Cap'n.  I'll let you know."  Then he turned back to his own things, lit himself a smoke and took a pull from a bottle that he kept in his knapsack.  All the time thinking to himself:

"If we ever get out of these damned tunnels."

OOC:

Osk Graffiti:
http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/images/8/8a/Osksymbol.png

Bastard was more than unhappy. His clothes were sopping wet, including everything he had brought along for the trip beneath the Locker: Weapons, ammo, rations, and spare clothes. Several minutes prior, the group had waded through quite possibly the most foul smelling water Helo had ever smelled. And as luck would have it the man next to him tripped, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him down as well. Almost instantly members of the party helped both men up, but not before Helo had swallowed a mouthful of the stagnant water.  All around them their companions laughed at their misfortune while Helo tried desperately to puke up what he had swallowed.

“Poor Bastard!” cackled Tanus with a big smile as he leaned on his war hammer. “Decided to go for a swim did we?”

“Frak off!” Managed Helo between coughing fits. Instantly the onlookers erupted into another bout of laughter while Snipes swaggered calmly into view.

“Well met Bastard!  But I would advise against going for a swim again.” 

Helo didn't answer...he know it was funny. No point in fighting back really. With a smile that only he could manage, Snipes turned to Tanus. “Have those two stop for a spell... let's give these buffoons a few minutes to straighten themselves out while he scout ahead. Leave a third here with them.”

Tanus nodded, and the others groaned as they followed Snipes down the narrow tunnel. Helo took his coat off and plucked his hat from the water. The once eleagant feather was now all clumped together, bits of moss and decay clinging to it.  The other wet pirate was busy trying to clear water out of his ears,then moved to drying his blaster and power cells. Helo decided to do the same, resting his word against the tunnel wall so that it was out of the way while he cleaned his pistols. Usually, he kept them stored away under his bunk on the hound, but for this little mission he decided to replace his usual sidearm with something with a little more kick. These pistols now rested comfortably in his shoulder holster harness with spare clips of ammo placed conveniently inside of his belt. Leaning against the wall he pulled the one on the left and began disassembling it, using a dirty yet dry cloth to dry the rounds and the parts of the assembly. Next to him, the older looking brigand that stayed behind sauntered up with a bottle and plopped down.

“Mighty fine looking weapons you got there,” he said in obvious interest. “I reckin' those ain't Imperial issued.”

“They aren't. But I was never really enlisted with the Vast Empire so I wouldn't really know.”

“Well I made a career out of the Empire. In Basic they told us blasters were far superior to slug throwers as you can fire em' in space. Saved my ass many a time during boarding actions.”

“Like I said...never was in the military.”

By the time the man had finished, Helo had the pistol reassembled back in its holster and had begun the process on the other.

“Coulda fooled me,” the man stated as he gestured to Helo. “Any man who claims to have live a civilians life but can take that fancy weapon apart and put it back together again that fast is a liar.”

Abruptly Helo stopped as the mans words hit him. It wasn't shock....but something else.... a memory perhaps?

“What does it fire?” the man asked, oblivious to Helo's reaction. Bullets? He thought to himself. How the hell should I know?  Then it flooded over him so quickly that he never had time to think...


“Fires 5.7x22mm kinetic energy cartridges that are usable in atmospheric and zero-g combat and capable of tearing a hole clean through a battle droid.”

The man smiled a nearly toothless smile. “I knew it.  Let me guess...You fought for the alliance...hell don't be ashamed. We all have a past here, but frankly yours is a bit of a mystery to us...”

With lightning speed Helo whirled around and pushed the man back against the wall, fully assembled pistol pressed hard against the man's skull, his eyes wide with fear.

“You don't get it do you!” he hissed between his teeth.  “I don't know a gods damned thing. I have no past and with the way things are looking I have no future. The alliance has no idea who I am and the Empire has no record except from what Snipes' tells them. That man is the closest thing I have to a friend and he knows NOTHING ABOUT ME!”

When the anger subsided the silence hit him. The other pirate had stopped what he was doing and just stared at the two men. When Helo turned the man stood with his hands in the air. “I didn't see nothin' man,” he stated reassuringly. Boot steps from down the tunnel announced the arrival of Tanus, who slowed to a stop when he saw the two men. Quickly Helo let the man go and holstered his pistol, hastily bending down to grab his trench coat and hat off the mossy floor before moving down the tunnel.

“Wanna tell me what all that was about?” demanded Tanus as he passed. Helo ignored him, instead continuing down the passage with the others hot on his trail.

“Hey Bastard, a word of warning!” shouted out Tanus.  “We ran into them survivors just up and around the bend. There are a lot of them and I dont think it would be wise to startle our new allies.”

Again paying no heed to his words, Helo rounded the corner and into a spectacular sight. The Tunnel was now crowded with beings, human and otherwise, many reaching to grasp at Snipes who was being carried around on the shoulders of two bothans, holding his cutlass in one hand and what appeared to be a whiskey bottle in the other. The other members of Osk were spread around the crowd desperately trying not to be trampled while others tried in vain to get their king down.  Tanus and the others rounded the corner behind him, stopping just short of the crowd. Tanus stood next to Helo while the other two made sure to give him as wide a berth as possible.

“Amazing how he manages to Inspire such loyalty isn't it?”

“Aye,” Helo replied as he watched an adult rodian weep openly. (something which greatly bothered and amused him.)

“But an even more spectacular feat will be for all of us to get into the Locker come out of this alive.”

Snipes presence was announced by the deafening echo of his Casull firing and the bright arterial bloodspray. He wasn’t one to sit idly by. He didn’t even like the overwhelming praise he’d been getting from the refugees, he wasn’t sure he liked them. What he loved of Osk had been the free spirits, but these people followed him blindly, he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He let it slip from his mind as he bounded to cover, Kelevra laying down suppressive fire with a blaster carbine.

The problem with the Crusaders was simply that most weapons would not penetrate their armor. As the Oskers neared The Locker, patrols of Crusaders became common place, and each time the group of privateers lost a few of their members, the Crusaders enduring blaster and slug-thrower fire, shrugging off bolts and bullets until they were within range of their grav-lances, and swords and hammers. Snipes weapons blew giant craters in their heavy armor, but even so the heaviest of them required being shot more than a few times.

Jager seemed to lash out at one or two at a time, sinking his blade into chinks in their armor, in fact most with blades had found that a preferred method of dealing with them. The chaos that ensued exhilarated and angered Snipes. He did not like it, he spun among them, twin weapons screaming and blocking the enemies thrusts.

Once he had drawn to close to one with a lance and found himself held and even drawn towards it, saved only by the giant metal spike of Tanus’ warhammer. The lances held them, making them easy targets, they had learned that quickly, the blue glow around the spear-points was some sort of gravity well, small but deadly. It explained why the weapons were so long.

Snipes was forced to take to the ground, sliding on his back as the twin weapons cried for murder, a swing from a large sword had gotten too close, and as he slid back Bastard was upon the swordsman, his pistol in hand he lept upon the enemy, sticking the barrel into his neck before pulling the trigger and riding him to the ground, a quick look around and he was gone.

Snipes twisted himself up in time to shove the barrel of Jackal into the eye of a Crusader foolish enough to loose his helmet, the resulting splatter coated the proud Pirate King.

With that final gunshot it was over. It had lasted a bare few minutes, but the intensity made it feel like days, even Snipes was sweating, but he was smiling, a smile filled with joy. Battle. It had been so long since he’d fought one like this, one that was dangerous, one that he was personally involved with, in the midst, in the screams and yells and cacophony of gunfire and sinking blades.

Snipes looked over to Kami, they were both breathing hard. She was covered in blood as surely as he was, he smiled.

“Haven’t had this much fun in a long time,” He said, straightening and stretching, still trying to recover his breath.
“Fun?”

Snipes shrugged and reached into his pocket, the pack of cigarettes he pulled out were covered with blood and ruined by the liquid, he crumpled them and tossed them over his shoulder, opening a new pack.

“Jager, any idea how much further?”

The gruff cyclops cast his gaze over to Snipes from where he crouched, cleaning his blade, “Not sure, we’re getting close to the parts held by the Crusaders.”

“Lovely!” Snipes stated, turning and stepping again in the direction they had been traveling, mindless of the dead and dieing, ignoring them completely, almost unaware they were there.

“What about the wounded?” Kami asked, a matter of course rather than deep seated caring.

“Those that can follow may follow, those that cannot will stay, those that will not may tend those that cannot.” Snipes was getting closer and closer to the most hated people he had ever met, distractions slid from him like oily water.

* * *

The Paladin. It was his title, his pride, and his duty. He was The Paladin. Of all the Blessed he had brought he was the only Paladin, the leader. This was not only his sacred duty, but the duty to his dead family, his duty to the galaxy. The all consuming need to find and destroy this demon.

He listened with half interest as the reports came in, monsters in the catacombs, monsters advancing, demons from the depths of hell. He unconsciously felt the cybernetic box where once his larynx had been. The descriptions had all been the same. The Demon was coming, his grip tightened on the large gravity-hammer in his first, a full head taller than he was.

He stood, with a creaking of old bones, a grating on armor and a whirring of prosthetics. He was clad from feet to neck in a heavy silver armor, ornately engraved with vine-work, his head was hidden in a white hood, a part of the white and red tabbard that covered his armor and draped to the floor. The only difference between his and the rest of the Crusaders was item hanging from his neck, the great twisted cross of rough steel, once it had been a shining example of their craftsmanship, but generations of crusades and the Paladins who had worn it had made it twisted and pitted with conflict. It was the symbol of his station.

“Let us go forward, Blessed of the Light, let us teach them of God and preach from the tower of their corpses.” The Paladin did not need many words, he never had, “Send two legions.”

Too long. It had been too long since he had seen his home. The lopsided rooftops gave it a slight disjointed feel, but that is what separated Osk from the others: Order within chaos. Snipes strode forward, looking on his mad kingdom with a glint in his eye; Tanus knew that glint all too well. It was the shine seen in a child’s first happy memory – it was the shine seen in a man who knew his return home was going to come to an end. Tanus’ warhammer rested on his shoulder as Kami stood silently to his left; she too lacked words to describe the scene. For once in his life, Tanus could honestly say Snipes was speechless. Jager stood off to the right, foreboding and silent, checking the surrounding area for any would be aggressors. The legions sent to route them remained lost beneath the surface, but it would not be long until they found their way out.

“It’s good to see the sun again,” Garryll murmured from the back of the group; Tanus nodded.

It was good to see the sun again – it was good to see his home again. The sentiment was shared by all gathered. Snipes’ arms were quaking; Tanus couldn’t tell if the Mad King was simply shaken by the scene or running on adrenaline. On the air was the scent of decay and time passed – and even more than that, sadness and woe. The sunlight above cut through a veil of smoke and clouds to reveal the cityscape below. Smoke rose from where buildings were or used to be; small fires dotted the streets. Even from here, Tanus could spot the tell tale signs of battle. The Crusaders controlled this place with a steely death grip. Now it was their turn to strike. They rising groans from behind him made Tanus turn; Aeos and Jeg were helping the survivors up from the gap in the earth. Kams strode up to Snipes, silent and thinking as she took her place at his right; Tanus hefted his hammer onto his shoulder, silently taking his left. Snipes breathed in a deep breath of air and smiled a wicked smile.

“I can smell them. I can smell the steel, I can smell their blood… I can smell their fear. They know we’re coming, and they know that they cannot hide.”

Kami sighed as she rested a hand on Snipes’ shoulder. The Mad King did not turn to look at his lieutenant; he was busy basking in the glow of his kingdom.

“Snipes, as much as it pains me to say it, you’re going to need to slow down for a bit. Before we can do anything, we need to get the wounded to a safe place and let them heal. They’ll slow us down in their condition, and they’re not going to be of much use in a fight, besides being meat shields.”

Snipes turned to stare at Kami, his eyes suddenly glazed over with a grim, steely look. He holstered his weapons and turned to look at his ailing people. Many of them could not walk, or if they could, did so slowly and gingerly. Snipes grimaced and spat on the ground.

“What use is it? We can’t leave, but we can’t bloody take them either. Well, my two lieutenants, do we have any suggestions?”

Tanus stepped forward, hammer still in his hands. His gaze met Snipes’ and then looked past to the sick and dying.

“If we are going to survive this mad crusade, then we are going to need a few things, namely reinforcements and a working resistance force. The only way we’re going to be able to push through the Locker is with help, and the only way we’re going to get that help is with our ships and Fury.”

Kams stepped up next to Tanus, her green eyes slicing the line of sight Tanus had with Snipes.

“He’s absolutely right, Snipes. As much as you want to rush into this and take your home back, you can’t do it without help.”

Snipes looked between his two lieutenants and gave them both a wry smile; Tanus knew that look all too well

“Well, it appears the Warhammer has a plan brewing, so let’s hear what he has to say.”

Tanus nodded and turned to look at the Locker. In the center of the Locker was Snipes’ stronghold, which was currently controlled by The Paladin. On the outskirts of that were smaller dens of debauchery, but even more than that were several other waypoints the Pirates needed.

“All right. The best way to do this is to split in to two groups: One will be a distraction, the other will be the commando group. What needs to be done is get the wounded to safety and get them healed up and get Fury in here. The distraction will head out first and cause havock in the city, just enough to draw the Crusaders away from the communications hubs and medical centers.”

Snipes and Kami nodded at the same time; Snipes took a long draw from his flask and then nodded at Tanus.

“You mean to flank them.”

“Yes and no. Fury can’t just push through the Crusader forces outside; he doesn’t have the man power. The second part of this plan lies above us. Fury has brought in some reinforcements via the ICS, which for the most part should be able to hold the assault of the Crusader fleet. Luckily, we won’t need to pull them away. If we can get the smaller freighters and fighters down here, they can disrupt the ground forces long enough for Fury to push through and get into the Locker. The aerial forces can then land, disembark and meet up with the main force to drive the Crusaders out of the Locker for good and all.”

Kami stepped forward, hesitance shining on her face; Tanus knew what she was going to say before it left her lips.

“That’s all well and good, but the Crusaders have a substantial defense network. They aren’t going to just let us kill them off with air support.”

Before Tanus could answer, Snipes looked at him with fire dancing in his eyes; he knew what was going on.

“You mean to disrupt their anti-air defensive network.”

Tanus nodded. “Aye. It’s the only way this is going to work, and even then, it isn’t a sure fire thing. The distraction team will leave ahead of the communications team, wherein the distraction team will get past the Crusaders and hit the air defenses, or at least knock them out long enough to get our men and Fury’s men into the Locker. When they go down, the communications team should already be in position by this point. They’ll send a message to the freighters and fighters we have. Order them down here to take out the Crusader ground forces hassling Fury. When they go down, Fury can push through with his forces and we’ll catch them in a vice.”

Snipes nodded with a smile. Kami had a smirk on her face too. It was a good plan. Now just came the hard part.

“Fine, who’s going with who?”

“We’ll split the surviving resistance fighters up the middle; each team will take half. That said, I’ll take the distraction team into the Locker. I want to take Ron, Garryll and Jeg with me. The communications team will be everyone else. Snipes, you should lead this one; your people need you, and Kami is a computer wizard, so getting the messages through shouldn’t be a problem. When we hit the aerial networks, we’ll get a message to you. You relay it to Fury and the others. From there, we push the Crusaders out into the awesome for one final strike.”

Snipes nodded his approval, as did Kami. The plan was set; the teams were in place. Now just came the part about not dying mid way through.

The man’s screaming had become unbearable. In one smooth motion, Jegora turned and brought his vibrosword down straight through the man’s heart. The super-heavy armor that the crusader wore literally melted as the rapidly vibrating, phrik-reinforced blade passed through it into the body underneath, and quite suddenly the screams stopped.

“Shit, we’re lucky if he didn’t let everyone in the entire city know we’re here,” Garryll muttered as the man finally fell silent.

Tanus turned, a gleam in his eye that Jegora registered as more than slightly feral. “Good,” the warhammer-wielding warrior intoned, his voice eager. “I wanna smash a few more skulls.”

Snorting quietly, Jegora wiped his blade clean on one of the dead bodies before sheathing it once more on his back. “Contrary to popular belief, Tanus, I don’t have a death wish. I enjoy revenge as much as the next man, but I’d like to survive the process.”

Tanus opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything a new voice rang out. “Found ‘em!” Ron said from where he was hunched over a computer terminal. “Looks like these assholes have six mobile AA positions set up in addition to the eight quad cannons that the Locker usually sports.”

That information was met with more silence. There was no way that the four pirates and the ragged men and women they had brought with them could take out the eight stationary guns, let alone the mobile ones. If they didn’t, however, then there was a very good chance that whatever air support they managed to call in would simply get slaughtered before they could do anything particularly useful.

Glancing back, Jegora examined the men and women they had brought with them and did some quick calculations in his head. He took it all in; their numbers, their physical condition, their mental condition, their morale…nothing escaped his hyper-observant gaze, and within seconds his analytical mind had dissected the situation and had come up with the only possible conclusion.

“Alright, we’ll split up-” Tanus began, but Jegora cut him off.

“Look at them, Solvona. There’s no way you’re turning THAT into an assault squad. The only way they retain any effectiveness as a fighting element is if you use them as cannon fodder.”

Tanus glared at Jegora, not use to being interrupted, but Jegora returned the man’s fiery gaze with a coldly dispassionate one of his own.

As the two pirate captains stared one another down, the tension in the room grew nearly palpable. Eventually, it was Garryll who broke the silence.

“Well, we can’t stay here,” the younger man said, exasperated. “What’s the plan?”

Jegora didn’t have an answer. This was so far outside his standard operating procedure that he was rather lost as to what to do next. Normally, Jegora’s operations were always planned thoroughly in advance. While he realized that even the best plans only lasted until the first shot was fired, he sought to counteract the unknowns of combat by creating extensive and detailed, yet flexible plans. He strove to foresee every problem that might arise, every alternative course that might present itself. He was always ready to adapt, but at the same time he always had directive.

Now, however, that was not the case. The pirates operated on the assumption that any obstacle could be overcome with the proper application of determination and sheer courage. It was an admirable philosophy, but certainly not one that Jegora agreed with. Nonetheless, he was in the minority, and so for the moment he found himself at the mercy of the pirates.

The silence stretched on, and suddenly Jegora wondered if they were simply going to stand around until some more of the crusaders found them. That wasn’t to be, however, for mere seconds later Ron provided a temporary solution to their problems.

“I think I found something useful,” the slicer announced quietly. “Seems that all the Locker’s anti-air cannons are slaved to a central control room. Also seems that at least four of the mobile devices are on a direct path to that control room.”

Jegora shook his head, amazed that once again lady luck had conspired to assist the privateers. Tanus was grinning again, his warhammer resting on one shoulder. “Well, you heard the man,” he shouted. “Let’s go burn our way to that control room. Kill anything that moves!”

Kami is the computer wizard so getting the messages through shouldn’t be a problem.

Tanus’s endorsement of her skills was running over and over in Kami’s mind as she swore yet again and kicked out at the nearest computer terminal with a booted foot. She was unsure as to whether or not the other Osk Lieutenant had been being sarcastic back before they had parted ways, or if he just had a skewed perspective of her ability. She’s wasn’t the worst hacker out there, her time in the Kuati Military Academy and the Vast Empire had ensured that, but she sure as hell wouldn’t be winning any ‘super whiz’ prizes anytime soon.

“Anytime now Kami”

Snipes called to her from where he was huddled up behind the sparse covered provided by an overturned table in the adjacent room.  Deznim and the remnants of the communications taskforce were scattered about him behind smoking terminals and the blackened skeletons of chairs, popping up when they dared to fire back at the persistent Paladin forces charging through the entryway. Whilst they had managed to avoid confrontation until now they were in a difficult position, pinned between the alerted and suitably desperate Paladin forces and the dead end communications tower located near the centre of the Locker. That it had taken the Paladins so long to notice them suggested that Tanus and the others had been successful in their task of providing a spectacular distraction to draw additional forces away from the tower. Kami had initially been torn between relief at their success and anxiety over their fate, but since she had started her attempt to slice into the Paladin security network in order to broadcast to the Osk forces overhead she’d forgotten completely about their plight. Now she was just pissed off.

“Kami!”

The first hint of panic had crept into the undertones of Snipes’s usual gruff tone. The Pirate King cast another emptied rifle to the side and pulled a frag grenade from his belt. He held the grenade before him for a moment as Deznim gunned down a Paladin converging on the King’s position, before standing up and pegging it at the immense Paladin officer shouting wildly at his comrades just within the confines of the doorway. The grenade hit the shocked officer directly in the middle of his forehead before it exploded and sent a sticky shower of red blood spattering over everyone in the vicinity.

“Into the control room!” Kami took advantage of the momentary distraction, screaming at the survivors from her position before the console, “Now!”

Snipes, Deznim, and a dozen others complied, laying down a steady stream of covering fire as they retreated into the cramped space.  A few Oskers remained pinned down in the adjacent room, their eyes widening in shock as they began to comprehend Kami’s tactic. A few turned and charged recklessly at the recovering Paladin forces, casting themselves onto the end of the deadly lances at they sought to drag an enemy down with their deaths. The others took on grim expressions and set their jaws as they resolved to draw out the fight for as long as possible to give those in the next room the time to do what was needed.

Kami hesitated for the briefest of moments as she witnessed their immense courage before Snipes appeared at her shoulder. His presence spurred her back into action. Her fingers flew over the keypad before her and in response; the large blast door hovering just above the single doorway to the control room began to descend.  The Paladins cried out as they became aware of the movement and let loose with renewed vigor, lighting up the very air around the Oskers with a maelstrom of laser bolts. Snipes arm landed heavily across Kami’s back to force her to ground along with him as round after round of deadly energy splashed over anything and everything in the room. A few meters away a stunned Osk member was caught in the blast, her arms flinging out from her body in a series of bizarre twitching movements as green lasers scorched deep within her chest. There was a screech of metal upon metal as the blast door finally touched down and abruptly the noise ceased.

From about the room the remaining Osk members rose slowly to their feet, Deznim lowering himself down where he had somehow managed to scale up on top of the light fittings of the domed roof. Kami regarded him with a quizzical expression until the Ryn shrugged in response,

“Don’t ask me. I don’t even know how I got up there.”

A series of loud bangs interrupted the two as the Paladins in the outer room began to hammer at the heavy blast door with their bare fists and pikes.  Snipes took a few automatic steps towards the blast door, before grimacing and pulling his bottle free of where it was hooked on his belt and taking a large swig, “They’ll get laser torches soon.” He looked back to Kami, “Send the message now. We don’t have a choice.”

Kami nodded and flicked her green gaze back to the screen before her. A slight frown crossed her face as she navigated past a series of firewalls and finally succeeded in pulling up the necessary codes to initialize a broadcast. The first message was to Fury, sent as an encoded transmission via his own personal military comlink,

“Fury. Kams. If you and yours are still up and kicking we need you at the Locker ASAP. We’ll try to get some air support in for you. Over.”

The reply was immediate, “Good to know the bastards haven’t killed you yet. We made it through our initial encounter with minimal causalities. Are already on the way. Will be there within the hour if you can hold. Over.”

Kami caught Snipes gaze briefly before replying, “We’re not planning on dying before you get here. Good luck.”

Without waiting to hear Fury’s reply Kami cut the communication and punched in a new series of numbers that would broadcast an open transmission into the space above Osk91.  It was a dangerous move considering that the Paladins would also be able to intercept the message but a necessary one considering that they did not have the security codes on hand to individually address the remaining ships in their fleet.

“This is base. Go for the Jolly Roger. Repeat. Go for the Jolly Roger.”

She repeated the code five times and then shut down the system. Without any ceremony Kami stood back from the console, pulled her blaster free and squeezed on the trigger to turn the entire console into a slag heap of superheated metal. Deznim witnessed the display quietly and then arched a bushy white eyebrow at her when she was done,

“The Jolly Roger? Really?”

It was Kami’s turn to shrug, “Consider the IQ of the majority of our Captains before you judge.”

Deznim tilted his head and then reluctantly nodded, “Point made.”

The clunking on the blast door had stopped and was now replaced by a fierce hissing. As the small group of privateers watched the door began to change color, a section near one side starting to glow as an immense heat was applied from the other side. Snipes stormed up the door and glared at the offending section of wall as he pulled in another deep swig of his bottle. He turned to Kami, “Remind me to wring the necks of the cheap pricks who sold this to me.”

“Will do boss,” Kami walked up to his side to examine the Paladins progress. They had only minutes, perhaps ten at the most. But from their position they had nowhere to run. It would be fight and die unless fate intervened, and that thought was somehow calming in its simplicity.

Kami hadn’t hesitated when it had come to casting herself out of the window. Sure, logic defined that catapulting her slight form over a distance of a few dozen meters towards unforgiving ground wasn’t the smartest move in the book, but in the face of an advancing horde of furious Paladins it seemed like an awfully appealing option. She landed heavily on one shoulder, feeling something shift as she did so. Somehow managing to bite back an exclamation of pain she tucked her legs and rolled down the slight slope before slamming into a fleshy yet solid obstacle at its base. Snipes looked down at his second in command from where she was sprawled across his boots and arched both eyebrows in mild curiosity,

“You alright?”

“Fine.”

Kami clenched her jaw and climbed back to her feet, one arm clutching the throbbing other. She felt her inflamed shoulder with her fingertips before steeling herself and forcefully rolling the dislocated joint back into place.  It slid home with an audible crack of bone against bone and this time she wasn’t able to prevent the gasp that escaped her lips. Snipes watched the display, sniffed, and then raised his blaster back up to shoulder height and swept the barrel over the window that Kami had just excited. Deznim and a few other Oskers were making the leap to relative safety, more than a few landing more heavily than she had just done. Deznim landed perfectly on two feet and trotted over the short distance towards the two Pirate leaders.

“The others are dead,” The Ryn managed between rasping breaths, “We need to go. Now.”

As though in response to the Ryn’s words Paladin soldiers abruptly appeared at the window, showering the Oskers below with lasers as they sought to cover the expanse of ground between their position and the cover of the first of the Locker’s buildings. Snipes snarled out loud and returned fire, Kami joining in as she used her good arm to pull her heavy DC free of its holster. One of her shots took a heavily armored Paladin in the unprotected flesh between his chestplate and helmet to drop the large man like a stone. The Pirate King killed two more before the remnants of the group backed up and away from the window to prevent their fate from echoing their doomed companions.

“Where to now?” The intimidating and heavily armed man to Snipes side spoke up, shocking Kami into noticing him for the first time. Somehow in the blur of the assault she had not noticed Kelevra’s stalwart presence, “Back into the maze? Kill until killed?”

“No.” Kami was the first to become aware of the high pitched droning in the distance. She tipped her chin towards the darkening sky, her green graze attempting to trace the source of the sound, “They’re here.”

The others followed her gaze and eventually Kelvara laughed and pointed with a bloody finger to the horizon over the eastern sky of the Locker. Black dots were visible and growing with every second. Eventually they became recognizable as a series of battered and unique looking freighters and starfighters, the smaller ‘uglies’ sweeping out front of their larger counterparts. They didn’t hesitate as they reached the outskirts of the Locker, tipping their wings and roaring over the anti-air cannons lining the lopsided walls. The cannons failed to shift from their positions to track the Osk pilots as they swept past and instead remained tellingly inactive, their turrets pointed harmlessly down towards the earth.

Snipes tipped back his head and roared in a mixture of laughter and a cry of triumph, “The old dog did it! Tanus shut them down!”

Kami smiled in response to the Pirate King’s words but her eyes remained locked on the assaulting air force as they maneuvered into place with a display of skill developed over time as a necessity for survival in the cutthroat world of piracy. With no opposition they let loose with their haphazard collection of weapons, sending a seemingly never ending stream of multicolored lasers down into the streetscapes to target unfortunate groups of Paladins flocking towards their position.  The Paladins evaporated under the assault, their stolid armor no match for the power and intensity of the starships fire. Another cluster of uglies, headed by the sleeker Star-Viper class members of the Heartbreaker Fighter Group veered off and sent proton torpedoes jetting down to unmercifully target the side of the compound that the Paladin forces had utilized for a barracks. The torpedoes landed with a gentle ‘crumping’ sound that was immediately followed by an intense cacophony of noise as flame billowed up from the interior of the building. The walls collapsed inwards before the entire structure toppled over to one side to land amongst those who had managed to flee at the approach of the attacking Osk faction.

The Osk members at Kami’s side were screaming in pure joy with each act of destruction, but Kami had to resist the urge to flinch at the flyboys enthusiasm. With every building they knocked down in their mad revenge-fuelled assault she was calculating the cost and labor required to reconstruct the structures once they were firmly back in their hands.  If they managed to successfully regain the Locker she was praying that there would still be something standing in which to salvage. More than a few off-world assaults would be needed to provide the cash flow to give the Osk Company’s hometown a makeover that would make it passable at the very least.

“We haven’t won yet Kams,” Snipes had ceased his celebrating and was examining his second in command, “Worry about your facts and figures when we’ve scraped the last of the Paladin scum from the surface of this world.”

“Am I that obvious?” Kami pulled a face at her old friend, “I’ve been spending too much time with Deznim it seems.”

“Hey!” Deznim perked up at the implied insult despite his obviously exhausted condition, “You were playing with politics and figures long before I met you!”

“We need to get you to your throne,” Kami’s demeanor unexpectedly became serious as her train of thought shifted once again. Her gaze swept to the lopsided crown on Snipes head, “They need to see their king back in his proper place. We’ll direct the remaining forces from there.”

“Yes...” Snipes straightened, the others about him quietening as they sensed an impending decision. The Pirate King turned from Kami to address the remnants of the communications assault force, “We need to fight our way to the command center. I will accept the Paladin’s surrender there.”

“Surrender?” Kelvara snorted at Snipes choice of words, “They won’t surrender boss.”

Snipes shrugged his shoulders in response, “It seems I have been inspired by my politically correct friend here,” He tilted his head at Kami, “We will follow protocol. If they continue to fight we will destroy them to the last man. If they surrender I will receive them.”

“And then?” Kami knew the Pirate King was leaving a lot unsaid, testament to the bond the two had strengthened throughout their time in Osk. Snipes met her gaze again and his expression twisted to become almost ugly with the strength of the emotion playing across his face.

“Then I will kill them all, one by one. They gave us no quarter, so they shall receive none. All will die.”

Their blood was thick on the air. He could smell it, through the scent of burning tibanna gas, gun smoke and burning flesh. It was on his tongue, burning hot like a smoky fire. Crusaders lay dead at Tanus’ feet as he made his way over their corpses, wading into the sea of armor and gravlances. A flurry of blows came from the heavily armored Crusader forces. Tanus blocked them all and feinted to the right, drawing out one of their number. The swing of his mace flew by Tanus’ head, blowing his hair to the side with breeze. He landed lightly on his back foot and swung his hammer down in a savage arc, smashing the Crusader’s skull under the force of the blow. In vengeance, the Crusaders struck out at Tanus. He calmly leapt backwards over their fallen comrade, righting himself with his hammer coming up to rest at his shoulder.

A fountain of blood followed by a scream and shouts from the armored horde caught his attention. Tanus looked over to his left, watching Jeg, his former commander-turned-wouldbe-pirate carving through the gleaming ranks of the Crusaders, washing them in the blood of their fallen comrades. The fountain of blood had reduced itself to little more than a babbling bloody brook, the source of the blood laying silent and minus one arm. He shifted his stance, using his blade to divert a gravity lance stroke aimed at his liver. Jeg turned to look at his assailant, glassy eyed as he shifted the blade, angling the lance point away from him towards the ground. With one upward slash, Jeg separated the man’s head from his shoulders. The corpse stumbled once then fell backwards into the former soldier’s comrades. They pushed the body off of them and continued their assault.

Garryll cackled as he drove his knife through the eyeslit of one of the Crusaders. The man screamed bloody murder as blood surged out of the visor. He fell to the ground, tearing at his helmet, trying to staunch the wound. The Blackjack SL made his way around the wounded fighter, taking on another target, dodging a dire hammer blow that dented the floor of the control room. As he was about to come up for another strike, a puff of smoke followed but a few muttered swears caught Tanus’ attention. Ron came up, driving the point of his blade between the slits in the Crusader’s bulky armor, piercing the ribcage. The man slumped over, not dead but soon to be. He clutched at his side as the life drained from. The two Oskers backed up, taking up a line with Tanus and Jeg. Behind them were the remaining freedom fighters liberated from the sewers. Their numbers were few to begin with, and they continued to dwindle.

“So,” Tanus said as he raised his hammer from his shoulder, letting the head fall into his empty left hand. “Any ideas on how to get out of here?”

“We could cut ourselves out of here,” Garryll suggested as he spun the knife on his index finger; the gap made by the pirates slowly started to fill back in with some very angry Crusaders. Jeg snorted in derision. Tanus looked sideways at his old comrade: Despite how he worked with the pirates, Jeg was still a soldier through and through. He was by the book, cold, hard and calculating. That was one of the few reasons why Tanus actually liked Jeg, and for that matter any of the other madmen he often associated with.

“If we try to cut our way out of here, we’ll be lucky to make ten feet out that door. We don’t have the numbers for a full repulse. I don’t even think Tanus is that crazy.”

“I wouldn’t know about that,” Ron said as he lit another cigarette. “His nickname is ‘The Warhammer’, Jeg. I don’t think madness and lunacy is too far out of his game plan.

Tanus chuckled as another Crusader charged him. He could feel the tug of the gravlance dragging him towards a grim demise. Tanus swung his hammer across his body, slamming the gravlance’s point away from him and causing the Crusader to stumble forward. Tanus drew his DT-57 and fired three point blank shots into the man’s sternum. They exited through his back, penetrating the armor is a haze of smoke and boiled blood. Tanus pushed the body off of him and holstered his pistol, taking in the scene with great pleasure. They had done their job. Now it was time to finish the buggers off.

“Does anyone have any det packs left?”

A few of the surviving freedom fighters responded with grunts and shouts of confirmation. Tanus then looked at the growing number of armored Crusaders. It’ll be tight, but I think we can do it. Tanus fell into a ready stance, daring the next man to come to him and die. For a brief second, there was calm, like the eye of a storm. Tanus issued his orders in that brief lapse.

“All right. We’ll hold them off for as long as you need to set those charges. When they’re set, blow the windows out. That’s our getaway. When we hit the ground, I want to see these bastards blown to kingdom come. I want to see armor raining from the sky. I want to see smoke and fire and blood and madness take these bastards back to their precious light source. Am I understood?”

In answer, Tanus could hear the sound of arming weapons and the sound of steel cutting through the air. The Warhammer smiled a feral grin.

“That’s just what I wanted to hear, gentlemen. Now, boys,” Tanus said as he looked sideways at his three closest comrades.

“Try to keep up.”

With one step, Tanus was halfway across the room, bringing the spike of his hammer down through the helm of a Crusader charging to meet him. He pulled the spike out just as he heard the scream of another Crusader, and the distinct sound of another limb hitting the floor; Jeg’s work. Garrryll and Ron worked in tandem like a pair of dancers, their surgically precise knife strikes tearing apart the Crusaders as if they were paper dolls. Tanus chanced a look back at the remaining fighters he had: Many of the charges were already set, and those that weren’t setting up the charges were providing fire support for the four fighting mad pirates of Osk Company. Another pair of Crusaders took a step towards the War hammer, their shoulders set to strike. Tanus only grinned and went straight to his hip, pulling a small black cylinder with a bronze hand guard.

Garryll and Ron both turned to look as they saw the bronze colored blade leap forth from the igniter on the lightfoil. All movement in the room stopped. All eyes turned to stare at Tanus, who only wore a feral grin with murder, fire and blood dancing in his eyes. The combat had taken him; now the animal came out to play. Jeg only chuckled.

“There’s one in every crowd.”

Tanus swung with his hammer, disarming the closest Crusader to him. As he fumbled for his weapon in the air, Tanus drove the lightfoil’s blade into the Crusader’s body, just under the armpit of his armor and into his lungs. The soldier hung there for a second, feeling the heat of 1,000 suns light up his body as his life drained away. Tanus pulled the blade out just in time to block a savage blow from a gravlance, landing with a solid kick to the chest of the Crusader, sending him sprawling back into his comrades. And just like that, a voice was heard from the back of the room:

“Charges are set, sir!”

Tanus looked back to the windows and computer terminals, then to the survivors and nodded. Time to go. The survivors turned on the windows and fully depressed the triggers on their weapons. Fully automatic blaster and projectile fire tore the windows to shreds in a wave of shards and steel. When the smoke cleared and the glass had settled, the survivors began to make their way through the windows. Tanus looked out the windows to see the survivors running down stairs leading into the street below. He looked to his comrades in arms, who were still geared to fight and kill for the Mad King. They all turned to look at Tanus, who only smiled at them and looked towards the windows. In a flash, all four were out the window, leaving their opponents dumbfounded and confused.

Tanus hit the metal walkway below the control room hard. He rolled off to the side to take some of the force off from the landing and looked up to see many Crusaders staring down at him. He could feel their malice and wrath boring into him like a drill. And he stared back, matching each of their gazes with wrath and malice of his own. They had taken his home away – and they were going to pay for it. Garryll came up next to Tanus and could only look at the hordes grilling them.

“Tanus, as fun as this is and has been, we need to go. Now.”

Tanus nodded and turned towards the stairs. Jeg and Ron were already waiting for them. When he got down there, Jeg looked up at the Crusaders, who had only now begun to fall back from the room.

“So, what are we gonna do about them? They’re going to try and get us to be sure.”

Tanus nodded with a grin. “Oh, absolutely. But ya see, that’s why we did this.”

Tanus turned to one of the freedom fighters that had survived.

“Hit it.”

The fighter pulled the detonator out of his pocket and looked up to the control room, his face beset by a grom look. Tanus knew that look; it was the look of a man who had watched his friends die and his home burned. It was the look a man wore when vengeance was to be carried out. The man pressed the button on the detonator. For a half second there was calm, and then in an instant, the world was rocked by a tremendous explosion. Bodies, computers, weapons and armor were blown out of the window as the walls split from the force of the explosion; the ground quaked as smoke and fire poured from the windows. Over the roar of the flames, Tanus could hear the screams of his enemies. It filled him with adrenaline, with vigor. As Tanus absorbed the moment, Jeg broke it with a throat clear. Tanus turned to stare at him.

“While this has been fun and all, Captain Light-Hammer, I really think we have other business to attend to. Such as aiding Fury and Snipes.”

Ron and Garryll nodded in agreement. Tanus started at Jeg with cold eyes, determination gripping every muscle in his body.

“Aye, you’re right. Gentlemen, it’s time we came to aid of our Mad King. It is time to repel these invaders once and for all. Let’s give them hell for the men and women of Osk-91, for the men and women we have lost.”

The group cheered as Garryll raised his hand in protest; Tanus turned to his Underthing.

“Yes, Garryll?”

“Do we even know where Snipes is?”

Tanus shrugged. “No, but he shouldn’t be that hard to find. Just follow the mad cackling.”

Thousands upon thousands swarmed towards the Pirate King’s throne room, cascading into and through each other in a cacophony of violent noise broken here and there by the groans of the dying and the shrieks of the wounded. Here and there patches of gleaming silver, the ranks of the resilient Paladin forces, made their way slowly yet surely through the patchy rabble of the Osk Company pirates leaving only bright red pools of intermingled blood in their wake. They would not falter in their divine task despite the increased vigor of the Osker’s assault. Their god had declared that his servants cleanse this world in which to make his own. Who were they to question the divine will of their cherished almighty? It would be death or victory for the metallic knights. Either way they would find redemption.

Kami watched the Paladins decimate another wave of Osk Company members, roused from their captivity by the assault led by Pirate King’s assault force. Even more of her brethren had cast off their chains and rebelled following news that Fury and the other Captains had joined the fray. It had seemed a suicidal task until the arrival of the Osk pilots bare minutes ago and yet still, the odds appeared to be set against them.  Wives and children died alongside gamblers and mercenaries, weapon smiths and merchants alongside lunatics and smugglers. Osk did not discriminate against its members and as such a uniquely diverse collection of individuals fell before the unyielding strength of the Paladin’s might to die beneath the feet of others. Despite the validity of their cause in reclaiming their homeworld....Kami despaired for the first time since beginning the fight that this awful loss was not worth such a symbolic badge of pride.

“Stand strong!”

The mad Pirate King, their savior and destructor, stood on a mound of crushed bodies a few meters away from her. His head was held high despite the carnage about and beneath him, his eyes seeming to glow beneath a mane of dark hair dripping with blood, “To me! Come to your King!”

The Osk members roared in response to his words, cascading forward to bolster the faltering line of pirates. In spite of her earlier desolation Kami found herself roaring along with them, charging to meet yet another Paladin soldier in close combat. Her pair of long Kuati blades locked unrelentingly against the Paladin’s lance as it swung down to remove her head from her shoulders. With an animalistic cry she span beneath its heavy weight and brought one blade swiftly underneath and across the Paladin’s exposed face. The man cried out as the pinpoint sharp edge tore into delicate flesh, tearing away the skin to reveal of mash of raw bloodied muscle and the white gleam of bone.  He fell gurgling to the soil and immediately became yet another obstacle for those survivors to clamber across in pursuit of their goal.

“Kami!”

She span, her green gaze impossibly wide, her gleaming white teeth bared in an open snarl as she sought out the newest threat to her being.  Recognition dawned only as she brought her blades about and before her to attack, and she hesitated as the owner of the voice strode confidently towards her.

“It’s about bloody time,” Tanus rested a hand heavily on her shoulder in way of greeting. The Osk Lieutenant was similarly clad in a bizarre blood streaked ensemble, the remnants of several unfortunate Paladin soldiers caked across the breadth of his large hammer, “Lines are breaking all over. The bastards are reforming and consolidating their position. Soon they’ll be in a position to push us back.”

Kami looked over the Warhammer’s shoulder to perceive Garryl, Ron and Jegora at his back, still alive though resembling more creatures of nightmare than a group of comrades. With a slight shake of her head she forced herself to focus on Tanus’s words, “If we move Snipes any further forward they’ll converge on us. They’re more than aware of his relevance. They won’t let him breach the command centre.”

“We have no other choice.” The first dregs of frustration crept into Tanus’s voice, “Either we die here or we die fighting towards the throne. There’s no going back and trying over.”

Kami glanced sidewards at Snipes, her voice barely more than a whisper as she replied, “You're right. We can't go back."

“There’s no finer group of people with which I would be honored to die,” Tanus’s grim expression gave way to a sardonic smirk, “And no enemy that I would rather die fighting.”

“Aye.” Jegora nodded, “Fanatics deserve a special place amongst the ranks of the damned.”

“Are we much better?” Kami felt dazed, her vision still torn between the violent scenes about and before her, “Do we not ask the same sacrifice given by the Paladins?”

Tanus lowered his head to look his companion in the eyes, “Did you get a lance to the head Kams?”

She shook her head at his concerned inquiry, attempting and succeeding at once again focusing her thoughts, “A few...I’m fine.” She straightened and pulled in a deep breath of the smoke tinged air. Reflection and commiserations were for after the battle. For now she had yet another job to finish, “He won’t stay back from the front line. We’ll have to be right there with him or his head will roll five seconds in.”

“We’re ready.” Garryll answered for the group, resting his large flamethrower resting on one shoulder.

“I am as well.”

Jager stood forward from the heaving mass of bodies, his predatory gaze flicking between Kami and Tanus before focusing on where the Pirate King was still fighting atop his mound.

Kami opened her mouth to question the renegade’s motives but stopped herself immediately. A fighter was a fighter. And now, in the final charge, she had no time to be fussy. Together the small group turned as one and moved towards their King’s position, the crowd subconsciously parting for them as they went. As they reached the base of the mound Snipes finally noticed them and paused mid-strike. Two pirates at his back stood forward to finish off the kill as the King pulled a deep swig from his bottle and grinned down at his most senior Captains and trusted aides,

“Are we off then?”

Tanus nodded and matched his grin, whilst Kami simply declined her head at his side. About them the remaining Osk members cried out once again, their weapons stretching into the sky in salute as they turned to face the direction of the throne.

“Then onwards!” Snipes capered down the mound and took his position at the head of the immense column. Before them the Paladins milled about in frenzied haste to deploy a defensive formation to prevent the Pirates from reaching the heart of the Locker. It was no longer a question of tactics, nor cause, but of skill and luck. A few hundred meters away lay the simple structure that would end the bloodshed and determine the victor.  It was a deathly parody of musical chairs with the continued survival of Kami and her friends as the stakes.

The gods, Paladin or not, had favored Osk Company thus far. Kami paused to offer a fleeting prayer to those watching that this trend would continue for the next few minutes, and that somehow, they would make it out of this madness.

The rain came steadily down in a shifting, grey curtain that swept steadily across the ravaged landscape of Osk91. It pooled in the gullies and rivets torn into the soil by projectiles, eventually overrunning the boundaries of those unnatural features and sweeping downhill to the ever growing basin sitting just on the outskirts on the Locker. Along the way it traversed over the thousands of bodies littering the vista, pulling some along with its flow, leaving others to roll along steadily in a contorted fashion in its wake.

Kami watched the lake fill from her position within the Command Center of the Locker, her astute gaze noting the soiled film to the water’s composition. The blood and grime of the battle was tainting the relatively pure substance as it fell from the heavens to begin its cycle on land.

“It’s awfully symbolic isn’t it?” Deznim was standing at her side, leaning heavily against the viewport as he too looked out over the scene, “Even the rain cannot erase the memory of what has happened here.”

Kami’s bright green eyes narrowed as she considered her friend’s words. She did not doubt that any still standing on the planet would be able to forget the nightmare of the last few months, even if they would want too. The atrocities committed by the Paladin’s in their attempted coup of the Osk Company would leave long reaching physical and mental scars on the survivors and their families, to the extent that they would struggle to return to a semblance of their normal lives. Additionally the Osk Company and VE IC members that had led the attack to reclaim the planet would be similarly scarred. It had been a long and ferocious battle, bloody beyond any that Kami had experienced in her long service within the VE military. Combat on home soil brought a plethora of emotion into the equation that had seen a degree of savagery emerge on both sides that had shocked her to the very core.

“Sharpe.”

An overweight Captain bearing a heavy beard abruptly came up to her side, three men at his back dragging a chained figure up before the Osk Lieutenant. The Captain paused to wipe the thick sludge dripping steadily from his hair into his eyes before gesturing to his prisoner, “Tanus said to bring this one in to you. He’s middle ranked as far as we can figure. Then again, the bastards have a bloody stupid system in place. He reckons he’s an Inquisitor.”

Kami glanced briefly at the captive who hung limply in the grip of the burly pirates. The Paladin glared back at her with obvious hatred in his eyes, seemingly oblivious to the blood cascading from the numerous wounds visible about his armored form.

He was one of dozens who had been coming in over the last few hours as the remaining Osk forces, led by Tanus and Fury, continued to hassle the retreating Paladin forces. The last report she had received placed the Paladin’s far beyond the boundaries of the Locker, a good sign in that their position was secure and the throne was safe, yet disheartening in the fact that Paladin air support had rallied to their trapped brethren. Even as Kami regarded the lone Paladin before her, hundreds of his comrades escaped the wrath of Osk Company as transports took advantage of lagging air superiority to maneuver into the atmosphere and whisk their men safely away. Osk and the IC forces were simply spread too thin to effectively halt the Paladin withdrawal.  Every soldier that managed to flee now exponentially increased the chance of a reprisal in the future.

The only victory is a decisive victory.

Kami resisted the urge to grimace as her long dead father’s voice echoed in her head. It had been one of the first rules of war taught to her, and it had held true throughout the years that had led her to this exact moment. Despite all of the Company’s astounding success so far, without the complete elimination of such a relentless enemy she was more than aware that the Paladins would continue to be an issue for Osk.

“Whore.” The Inquisitor spat the word at Kami, his gaze tracking up over her heavy boots, her leggings and her tank top to her face, “You spread your legs for the damned and damned you are for your filthy transgressions.” He pulled himself up in his chains, bloodied spittle flying from his mouth as his voice rose to a high-pitched screech of fury, “Your demon spawned children will burn in the righteous fire of the almighty. Their flesh will peel and their bones will shatter to reveal their tainted souls, and you will witness their deaths a thousand times over as the cherished enacts his vengeance.”

Kami’s jaw clenched at the obscene display. She flicked abruptly cold eyes to the pirate Captain, “Shut him up.” She told him through gritted teeth, “Now.”

The Captain nodded at his men and two immediately lashed out with the butts of their rifles, smashing the unyielding metal into the Paladin’s exposed face. The Paladin cried out under the blows and momentarily buckled, hanging from his wrists.

“This is ridiculous,” Kami murmured to Deznim as she turned to move away, “They’re all the same.”

“Whore!” The scream at her back caused Kami to hesitate mid-step. The Paladin rose up beneath the continued blows of the pirates, an animalistic roar breaking free of his throat as he did so. The pirates redoubled their efforts, tearing mercilessly away at their captive in an attempt to knock him down, yet the Inquisitor refused to crumble, his wild gaze still locked onto Kami, “My god reserves a special place for hell spawned sluts!”

Kami stilled dangerously, “That is enough.”

Her first and only shot hit the Inquisitor directly in the forehead, drilling through yielding tissue to spatter brain matter all over the wall at his back. The Paladin’s mouth dropped open in an expression of pure shock before his large form slid sidewards to collapse completely in a growing pool of dark red blood.

Deznim sighed, the sound emerging as a soft whistle through his beaked nose.

Kami shot her Ryn companion a dark look as she re-holstered her blaster, “Not...one...word.”

Deznim raised both hands before him at her rare display of anger, “As far as you’re concerned, I’ve gone mute.”

With a growl of pure frustration emerging from somewhere deep in her throat, Kami span about and stormed from the main room towards the adjacent chamber that held Snipes throne. The narrow area was almost completely empty save for the elaborate structure resting on a raised platform facing out towards the rest of the command center. Upon the decorative throne Snipes was slumped, a single medic and droid aide at his side. The Pirate King had refused any but the most basic of treatments, and as such blood was still visible through the white bandages wrapped about his upper body. He looked up as Kami approached, waving the rum bottle still in his hand in her direction,

“News?”

“Not good,” Kami replied immediately, sparing any elaboration, “There’s still pockets of resistance about the Locker but the majority of the Paladin forces have made it onto the plains. Fury can’t keep all of them from breaking through. They’re getting away.”

Snipes snorted, seemingly in amusement as he regarded Kami with dull eyes, “Why aren’t you out there chasing them then?”

“Because you!” Kami snarled at him, jabbing a finger at his face, “Are being a goddam arse! Someone has to stick around here and make decisions without having their wits addled by severe blood loss!”

Snipes laughed again at the outburst, “Think this...is the most riled up I’ve ever seen you Kams.”

Kami’s expression softened as she regarded her friend, “Just let them dose you up with some painkillers Snipes. And get off that moronic throne. You need surgery. Sooner rather than later.”

“No,” Snipes pulled himself up straighter on the throne, slamming his bottle of rum down on an armrest to steady himself, “I’m not moving until they surrender.”

“You killed their leader Snipes!” Kami countered, “Who do you want to surrender to you?”

“Someone,” Snipes replied stubbornly, adjusting his crown with his spare hand, “Find someone.”

Kami cast her hands up in the air, “Gargh, damnit Snipes!” With another growl she span back around and swept back into the main chamber of the command center.

“You,” She halted next to a pirate manning the communications console, “Get me on to Tanus. Or Fury. And if you can’t get them get the closest ranking individual.” Her green gaze flicked back to the swirling storm clouds clambering above the Locker, “I need a leader...a General....or something. Just tell them to get me a scapegoat to stop this sithspawned war.”