The shipping yard was a large square of ferocrete, ringed in razor wire. A half dozen freighters stood in various stages of repair. None of the ships was as large as the highlander and several were laid open completely, an indication of major fusion plant rebuilds. Only two of the vessels looked vaugely serviceable. Worse still, as they approached, the large billboards that seemed omnipresent, normally reserved for advertising some sleazy bar or junk shop began to shimmer and shift. Poor quality holos of the four of them appeared along with text reading: 2 million credits dead, 4 million credits alive.

"Maybe I should turn you all in," Junebug said, her voice wheezy and cracking from the drugs and her injuries. Neil started surprised she had spoken, and then laughed.

"Yeah well I see your picture up there too," Neil chuckled.

"Should we lose the mech?" Sven asked, "not exactly incon-fucking-spicuous now is it?" Sayeeda began to laugh but it trailed off into a racking cough that sprayed a fine speckling of blood. She was glad Neil had the presence of mind to remove her helmet.

"A bit late for that," she replied and nodded her head at the shipping yard. The mech would be a major disadvantage if they were planning to stay on planet any length of time, but if they didn’t get off shortly then there was no way they were leaving. With the reward offered, ever person they met would be another chance to get turned in.

"Charge!" There were as many different millitary doctrines as their were soldiers but Junebug had learned her trade in an armored unit. There was nothing subtle about the use of an armored spearhead, you hit hard, hit fast, and kept hitting to the other guy quit. WHen times were desperate, it was always best to attack as ferociously as possible. Neil smashed through the fence without slowing a stride. The flimsy chain link recoiled to its posts with a musical twang and a shower of sparks. Workers screamed and ran in panic, abandoning tools and equipment. Several guards emerged from barracks hefting weapons but one look at the rampaging mech sent them fleeing. Neil fired a burst of gun fire into the air to encourage their hasty departure.

“Ok, now we just need to fly a junk freighter into orbit passed the stars no how many hostiles…”
[@POOHEAD189]