The MSSC’s grunt part of the military is a funny thing. In essence they throw you a gun and tell you to fend for yourself for 2 years. You also get water, but nobody wants to drink water after their first firefight. And you also get enough rations to eat at once a day. But the food was clearly made at a place that had no concept of hygiene or flavor. The grey-brown smudge is usually heated in its can before eaten. Something Grunt Lander Ibines was doing. He was part of the scout team. His squad was huddled up in one of the few skyscrapers still somewhat standing. It offered both excellent shelter, and perfect view. “Hey Lander. What’s that?” the lookout asked. Lander turned and abandoned his cooking stand to look out the shattered window. Outside he saw trails of smoke and fire plunging down. “Fallen wreckages!” his eyes shot wide open. The objects were too small to be spaceship wreckages plunging towards the surface. “Get Epsilon on the radio!” he commanded. Soon he was handed a phone. The damn thing was beyond a relic. But Grunts didn’t get state of the art radio communication so they were forced to make do with what they found. In this case, primitive radios. “Epsilon base actual. Please identify.”

“Grunt 2786. Lander Ibines. Scouting group. I am registering several crashing ships coming from space.” He was interrupted in his transmission by the lookout again. “Sir! I got visual on several damaged ones too. Engines down and the likes but the rest seems in still okay. I’m also seeing several undamaged ones sir!” Lander repeated that message and awaited orders. In the meantime, his grunts got restless. Grabbing their makeshift armor and their RM-5’s. At this point Lander wished he had concluded that trade back at Epsilon for a Temporary Personal Shielding Device. “Mr. Ibines, you are to move out towards Center Quadrant for Scavenging. We will contact several other scout groups to do the same. Please be advised, stealth is highly recommended.” That pretty much meant: if you get caught in a firefight, we can’t help you.

“Okay people, let’s move out!” Soon the troops were going downstairs with the stairwell. Lander was still eating his ration. He wasn’t going to die on an empty stomach. Downstairs they hid 2 ancient vehicles. Civilian in nature, their technicians made them work again. With those they swiftly moved. Several guys were hanging out the window with maps and goggles. One crawled back inside and marked a location on the hard-paper map. “Near this bridge one of those ships should have crashed. I saw an engine burning but it was still in one piece.” Lander nodded and gave the directions to the driver. Soon they reached the bridge. Stone and metal with fast flowing water below it. The dropship, UJF in nature, was crashed on the other side of the bridge. Never the less, Lander gave order to step out of their vehicles and travel the bridge on foot. But as soon as everyone was out of the cars, a bullet flew through the air and caught the Grunt next to Lander. The bullet shattered his femur. “Shit! Take cover!” Lander yelled, and they all did. Hiding behind the reinforced cars and the ruins of buildings. The kid was still screaming in pain, laying in the middle of the street. “Cover me!” Lander commanded. He dropped his gun and started running towards the kid. He was bleeding and squealing like a pig getting slaughtered. Lander grabbed the kid and started dragging him into cover. With bullets flying all around him. His squad seemed to be doing somewhat of a decent job of keeping the enemy off him. Lander only had 2 meters to drag the kid and they were both safe. But with a shattered femur in a combat zone, they’d probably have to amputate it. Though all those thoughts vanished when another bullet went straight through the kid’s chest. The last thing he could do was spit blood before collapsing. Lifeless. Lander yelled in fury: “Shit! Give him a chance you bastards! You just had to give the kid a chance!” As he grabbed his rifle and began to spray down the general direction of the crashed gunship. Behind him, a grunt on the radio was broadcasting their position and a call for aid from other grunt scavenging units.