Neil imagined most mercenaries would look at the Hahn desert and feel like it's such wasted potention, or that there was very little to be gained here if it wasn't for the treasure coordinates. The kind of guys who could only appreciate hard drinking and soft women, and don't get him wrong, Neil was all for both. But he also enjoyed seeing other worlds and their biomes. The vastness of space and all it held within still amazed him. He could travel his entire life and not visit all of the habitable systems, much less all of the habitable planets. Even a desert like this, he could appreciate. Good music, the hot sun, the promise of wealth, and a nice engine revving beneath him. He'd donned his shades for this particular mission, and he still had an attitude that screamed 'I'm stylish' after three days of travel. Of course, he was a bit wary of Saxon. Though most would say he was simply...saner now. Usually Saxon's moods that could easily turn violent didn't bother him unless he had nothing else to preoccupy his time with. He reoriented the rearview mirror, and the plume of dust in the far distance behind him told him that the caravan was on schedule and keeping a good track on their movements. Not that Neil minded. As long as he and his crew got their fair share. Well, it was Sayeeda's crew, but still. In the way back, Saxon sat unmoving, gazing into the open desert as if he were a crocodile basking. All he needed was the open mouth. A red ping went off on the display system of the transport, and Neil smacked the side of the vehicle to let everyone know they were slowing down. They were now within the sector of the treasure, though that still meant there was a hundred square miles to sift through, and nothing in the immediately landscape screamed 'significant.' They had decided before they left that they would plant beacons once they entered, to gradually send signals through the sand and rock to see what exactly dwelled beneath. The vehicle juttered to a halt, and Neil gave the girls in the back a grin before unneccesarily vaulting over his doorside and stretching, making his way to one of the side compartments where most of the supplies were stored. Reaching in, he found purchase on what looked to be a long pole. A subtle shift of his grip and three prongs shot out like knives from the bottom of the contraption, and a red beacon flittered to life for but a moment to indicate it was on. "Neil, hand me some water?" Taya asked, holding her hand out feebly as if she was dehydrating before the crew's very eyes. It was an obvious exaggeration. Junebug wiped her forehead and asked for one two. He tossed them both bottles. "What about you, big guy. Want some?" Neil asked. Saxon didn't turn or answer him, though the rise and fall of his massive chest spoke he was still awake and alive. He shrugged, and grabbed himself one. "You know, this'd make a good beach. If there was water here." Neil remarked, and took a swig of the bottle. The water had an iron taste to it once the projectile punched through the plastic. He almost didn't notice it at first, but the distant sound of gunfire and the water now spilling onto his hands sobered him up. "Oh SHIT!" Neil dived low as the sand dunes to the east revealed dozens of hidden dervish raiders, all with slug weaponry as they began to unload on the less than armored transport. As if to prove again he was awake, Saxon gave a warbling cry and launched out of the transport with a massive leap, bullets ricocheting off his armor as he began to fire at the northern section of the enemy lines, a rocket flying out of a wrist launcher to engulf two men in flame and shrapnel. [@Penny]