The cramped alleys off the under-city were littered with the cooling bodies of the dead and the dying, their myriad of blood colors spreading down the streets under the torrents of rain. The sky, what little that was visible above the towering skyscrapers of the upper-city was an angry dark grey.

Running through the torrents of water and projectiles, an armored figure slid into cover behind the wreckage of a vehicle as blaster bolts and slugs slammed into it. The figure was tall, standing slightly over six feet, and his armor was a muted and muddy crimson, made of curved and segmented plates that covered the vital areas of the body. His helmet was also rounded, with a faintly glowing horizontal line acting as a visor. Moments later another figure slid into join the previous one. This figure was shorter and his armor was more angular, and covered the figure completely

[color=aba000]"Tyder, Squad Two is reporting a concentrated push on their location and are being forced into retreat. Squad Three went silent after they radioed in the arrival of a heavy vehicle,"[/color] The second figure paused before continuing, in a deep rich timbre that seemed to reverberate slightly, [color=aba000]"And Squad One has been completely wiped out except for us."[/color]

Tyder grunted in acknowledgement as he shouldered his rifle and leaned to peek around the cover. A three bolt burst were accompanied by a high pitched whining and a strangled cry and muffled thud.

Turning back into cover, Tyder addressed his companion as return fire streamed into where he once was, [color=ed1c24]"You will address me as Commander Tyder when we are on the field, Sergeant Weraca. Call back Squad Two, where going to make a final push against these bastards."[/color]

Staff Sergeant Etanin Weraca flinched from the rebuke and began to protest his command, [color=aba000]"But Commander, the enemy is to entrenched. Assaulting them would be suicide. We should retreat and regroup, call in reinforcements. The information we had was faulty, the higher ups will understand why we failed."[/color]

Tyder growled low in his throat before wheeling to face Eltanin. [color=ed1c24]"Shut up,"[/color] the Commander ground out, [color=ed1c24]"You don't understand whelp. Me and you? We're nothing but expendable bodies, just flawed copies of some long dead hero."[/color]

As Tyder spoke, he unclasped his helmet and tore it off revealing a grey face covered in ridges and a fluted head that swept back into an elongated skull. His blue cat eyes with black sclera burned with anger and rage.

Eltanin gaped under his helmet as his eyes traced the familiar face in front of him, his eyes travelling along the high cheek bones, the ridges and plates, the way the the brows were furrowed over a straight nose. Yrtha religious code decreed that it was sacrilegious for one to remove ones head-dress in public, as it served to designate the caste one belonged in. Now Eltanin knew why, because his face was a younger replica of the one in front of him.

The Commander noted the slack in his comrades posture, and his face softened before he place his hand on Eltanin's shoulder.

[color=ed1c24]"The Rundishes have lied to us brother. There hasn't been a natural birth on Gent in thousands of years, that's why you were never allowed to find you parents."[/color] Tydus spoke softly, his eyes soft.

Those eyes turned to shock as he felt the officer plates on his chest shatter and his body filled with the searing heat of plasma bolts. Shocked, he looked down and then back up as Eltanin's face plate opened to reveal a younger, crying version of his own face.

[color=aba000]"R-R-Ru-di-di's c-c-ode 678: I-i-if a-a- Yrtha re-rev-reveals their face, the pu-pu-nishment is d-d--ea-eath."[/color] Eltanin stuttered out as tears streamed down his face. Swallowing thickly he saluted his dying commanding officer, before pulling out a thermal grenade. It was capable of disintegrating anything that was in it's radius. Activating it, Eltanin dropped and began running even as Squad Two began radioing at the Commander's failing life signs.

[hr]

Eltanin opened his bleary eyes, blinking them back into focus. Bringing a hand up to his face, he covered his eyes as he shoulders began to shake and tears began to fall. That fateful night had happened years ago, but it still haunted the Yrtha. Wiping his eyes dry, he reached over and picked up his helmet. It was pitted, scarred and nothing like the helmet he wore years ago. Slipping the object over his head, he waited for the millions of microcameras to activate, and then picked up his rifle. The heavy, but familiar weight was a comfort as he uncurled in the foxhole he had slept in.

[color=8dc73f]"Rise and Shine you ugly whore children,"[/color] A voice screamed over the comm, almost making Eltanin flinch, [color=8dc73f]"This is Admiral General Atlas, and welcome to the fiftieth day of the siege of Rakon City. Remember, you gave signed up for his expedition for InMed Corpoation. You don't fight, you don't get paid. Report to your commanding officers for your orders to day."[/color]

Sighing to himself, he got up, stretched and joined the throngs of mercenaries in search of their handlers. Some had come in large packs while others were like Eltanin, unaffiliated individuals who had signed up for a paycheck.

[color=aba000][i]"Another day on the job."[/i][/color] Eltanin thought cynically as he joined his impromptu squad in a meal tent.