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The desperado pulled up a chair uninvited and sat down putting his boots up on the table, scattering sandy soil on a tabletop already none to clean. He produced a cigar from his pocket and lit it with a pocket igniter that was much fancier than it was practical. He puffed several times to get the cigar going, large lips making a satisfied sucking noise. The smoke that issued from the cigar was acrid and unpleasant, unlike any tobacco Junebug had ever smelled.

"Danac...," the stranger rasped, drawing the word out into three syllables.

"The pure stuff, a cigar like this would cost you two hundred credits anywhere else in the galaxy," he boasted.

"How very fucking fascinating," Junebug replied dryly. The stranger grimaced in irritation at her lack of respect.

"You got a smart mouth bitch, it will get you in trouble someday," he promised. Junebug shrugged in affected boredom her eyes scanning the room. The gunmen were clearly used to having the run of the place. They grabbed at the serving girls and helped themselves to the booze without any intention of paying. Those locals that hadn't fled were handled roughly, shoved and mocked although there was no violence yet. Junebug began to wonder if it had been a mistake to bring Taya into a place like this, the young blonde was getting a lot of looks from the thugs but fear, perhaps of the leader, or perhaps of Neil whose earlier exploits were already being talked about kept them at bay. If Taya noticed she wisely gave no sign, staring nonchalantly in imitation of Junebug.

"My name is Warez," the smoking man declared with lofty self importance.

"My friends and I keep this bar free of the Spider scum," he boasted, his hand reaching down to stroke a large bore pistol in a holster on his belt. Junebug wondered what would happen if he drew on them. The swaggering Warez would be dead in an instant but his cronies around the bar were another problem. They surrounded them on three sides and though they were drinking and probably stoned, they watched the byplay at the table with the enthusiasm of hungry sharks. Junebug doubted that any of the gunmen were worth much, but it was likely that they would manage the job through raw number if not skill. Warez probably felt the same way, though Junebug suspected his logic was different.

"How do I know you aren't Spider scum hey?" Warez asked, puffing theatrically.

"Well between the three of us we only have six legs, so I suppose that might be your first clue," Taya said flatly. Junebug froze for a moment shocked that Taya would act so boldly and worried that it might precipitate a crisis. Instead Warez began to laugh and his crew joined in with sycophantic enthusiasm.
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Warez wiped his eyes with his shirtsleeve, chuckling until he could breathe again. There was a hint in the air that, despite their bravado and levity, this was still a very dangerous room full of violent people. Luckily, Neil was generally crazy enough not to care and Junebug had nerves of steel. Taya seemed somewhat put off her comment was received in such a fashion, but it wasn't as if they had opened fired so that was something.

"What do you guys call yourselves then?" Neil asked, crossing his arms. Junebug laid both of her crossed arms on Neil's shoulder and looked at the gang members, resting her chin on her draped arms to give off the casual and unimpressed look of a fellow gangster. Her tattoos with the image and she looked like a roughrider with her confident lover, simply wanting to know about the next job opportunity they had.

In unison, the men dropped their weapons and pulled up their shirtsleeves or took off their jackets to display their tattoos along their upper arms. There was another fearsome arachnid drawn in black ink on each and every one of them. "The Scorpions," Warez introduced, giving a reptilian smile. "And if you wish to be apart of our crew, you need to meet Stinger." A hush fell over the others, and Junebug and Neil simultaneously lifted their eyebrows lazily.

"Let me guess. Your nickname's Thorax?" Junebug asked.

"Like I said, watch your mouth bitch." He snapped, but Junebug's eyes were so hard that his words held little power. Neil shook his head, hand at the ready to grab his holstered revolver. "That's the second time you've insulted my girlfriend. There won't be a third, got it?"

"Why don't we meet Stinger before they need to clean up more bodies off the floor?" Taya interjected, stepping between them. If Warez had little respect for Junebug, he had even less for Taya because of her age. But her logic was sound, and he smirked. "Fine. Do you have a ride or do you need to piggyback off of us? It'll cost extra, by the way..." He made a kissing gesture toward's Taya, and the girl rolled her eyes.

"Let's discuss our tab with Stinger." Neil remarked, eyes never leaving Warez.
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"Fine!" snapped Warez, springing to his feet so fast that he almost seemed to teleport. The thug put two meaty palms on the table and leaned forward, smoke billowing from his nostrils like a mythical dragon. A grin split his face, displaying teeth long yellowed by his drug of choice.

"You know, I hope he doesn't like you," Warez said, patting the hilt of a heavy knife on his hip, then turned and yelled some instructions to his men in a dialect Junebug didn't quite follow. They stood and followed Warez out of the bar. Out in the street the exchange of insults between the two gangs was dying down as night feel and booze and sex became more appealing options than testosterone fueled violence. Both gangs had pulled heavy trucks across the road, blocking what little civilian traffic there was with effective road blocks. Both of the big both of the big disel flat beds had armament of a sort, machine guns welded in expertly to pintles and with improvised armor made of metal sheeting. Junebug couldn't imagine the haphazard armor provided much protection, more likely it would just add shapenel to the devastation wrought by whatever incoming fire it was supposed to deflect.

Neon signs blazed in the night, offering drink, drugs and negotiable affection. Naked women, and in some cases men, stood in upperstory windows gyrating unethusiastically to a variety of musical styles that volume rendered into an indistinguishable boom in the background. Wire mesh had been stretched across the windows to protect against bottles and worse being hurled at the shills. The buildings that lined the dusty street were universally business, bars, clubs and brothels all catering to the gunmens pleasure. Now that Sayeeda knew what to look for the gangsigns and colors were everywhere at this end of the street the Scorpions had a clear advantage while at the other the Spiders were boldest. Those businesses in the middle naturally muted their allegiance not so much to attract both groups, but in order to be able to deny support. It wasn't simple robber though, or at least not only that, the gunmen paid at least a token for what they did, probably because their gang bosses collected protection money from the locals. Civilians mostly stayed inside, waiting no doubt for the night to pass and their unwelcome guests to return to the fields. As they crossed the street Junebug heard screams coming from one of the brothels but none of the gunmen seemed concerned she she figured she could afford not to be.

Warez gestured them towards a four wheeled jeep with a pintle mounted grenade launcher. It didn't look like it had enjoyed any maintence in Sayeeda's life time. She climbed into the back alongside Neil and Taya, regretting that she had bought the girl although Taya herself watched everything with a determined expression trying to be tough. Warez climbed into the cab and spun up the diesel engine which sputtered and coughed smoke before the transmission caught and the wheels spun spraying dust and grit into the door of a nearby bar. One of the patrons shouted an insult as he was pelted with dirt and debris but ducked back inside with a yelp as one of the gunmen casually fired two rounds at the doorway, both missing and blowing chunks from the adobe facade. The truck pulled out into the road and down the dirt street. Beyond the bars and clubs Junebug could see houses and tenement buildings in the alleys and narrow streets beyond. Their lights were out, tryng not to attract attention.

They drove for only a few minutes until they reached the edge of the town. Junebug didn't know if it had a name other than that of the planet, though she didn't imagine her life would be much poorer without that datum. A large compound, encircled by walls topped with broken glass and retrofitted razorwire dominated the eastern approach. Armed guards, half stoned thugs really, stood infront of the gate lounging on seats of cloth stretched over wood frames and cradling weapons. There were even a pair of sandbagged block houses, better organisation than Junebug had seen thus far, protecting the large wrought iron gates. Music blared from inside them and the heavy weapons emplaced inside did not track the approaching truck. The truck pounded to a stop, its unmainted suspension hissing as Warez leaned out of the cab and screamed at the guards to open the gate, they did so without much enthusiasm but a moment later they were driving down a gravel driveway towards a house that might once have been handsome but was now disfigured by obvious attempts to make it defensible.
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Neil was impressed with just how much material the scorpions had acquired, and he was equally impressed with how wasted most of it was. The barbed wire was stretched around like a serpent, going back and forth with plenty of areas a determined man could crawl through. The trenches around it were similarly jerry-built, and Neil was just glad they didn't have the stupidity to dig across the road they were driving on.

The gates slid open shakily with a primitively automated system, and it was actually pretty funny that the whooping and hollering thugs were trying to keep their enthusiasm even as they sat waiting for the gate to fully roll open. Neil sat there, bouncing from the shoddy engine of the vehicle they were in. He looked at Junebug and Taya with a raised eyebrow.

After a full minute, the cries began anew when the path was clear and they drove up to the house, turrets placed in a variety of places without planning it seemed. Large double barrel turrets with, to Neil and Junebug's practiced eye, 35 mm slug rounds. The pilot could tell it was an automatic weapon and was highly volatile but powerful.

"When was the last time you boys were hit by the Spiders?" Neil asked the thug to his left, his crew members on his right. The man, if it could be called a man for his face was bloated and putrid and he had one eye, turned to him and merely grunted. Neil wasn't certain he knew how to speak at all, and Warez spoke up from across the way.

"We have a few hits every now and then, fucker. But we send them scuttling back to mama, eh!? He cried, and they all cheered just before the vehicles halted in the front dirt lot, kicking up dust and debris into the air. All of them vaulted and leaped out of the vehicles in a timely manner, as if it had been practiced. Neil and the others were just a second behind, and they were inducted into the house.

It was large, but hardly enough room for so many gangsters. Over a dozen of them ran down stairs and Neil theorized they lived down there among a larger complex. Neil, Taya, and Junebug however were brought by Warez and his largest thugs to the third floor, which looked to be one single roo that covered the entire story. As they made their way in, they could see couches and tables, with a corner of the huge room covered in curtains to keep out prying eyes.

"Yo Stinger! We got some new recruits!" Warez yelled.

The curtains opened up, and the men suddenly knelt when Stinger walked out. He didn't have the look Neil thought he might. Mostly because he was a she, thick bodied with full lips and curls that reached down to her shoulders. There was a dangerous look to her indigo eyes, and on her arm was a scorpion tattoo. She downed the last dregs of a whiskey bottle and set it down on the table next to her.

"Yeah I can see that, Warez" She sneered. When he opened his mouth to speak, she shot him a look that killed the noise in his throat.
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Junebug was surprised to discover that the stinger was a woman. Generally speaking the rougher a place was, the less respect women commanded, although judging by the way the toughs in the bar had been manhandling the serving women, she suspected that the Stinger was a special case. The woman looked them up and down, lingering on Neil for a minute and seeming to take in their dress and equipment.

"Ah, the foreigners who arrived on that pretty freighter," the Stinger said in a surprisingly sensual voice. She obviously thought the fact she knew something of them would shock them and their lack of reaction seemed to irk her.

"Have a seat and we will discuss your futures here on Tiosinte," she went on, making a magnanimous gesture with her right hand. The gesture exposed the tip of a scorpions stinger tattooed on her left shoulder. Jungbug and her friends obediently took their seats. Without asking servants, slightly better dressed gunmen anyway, came forward and set cans of chilled alcohol down in front of them. Junebug picked hers up and took a drink. It was sweet, some sort of wine cooler with an artificial peach flavor, she had certainly drank worse.

"I take it you aren't looking for places on the... security staff of my organization?" the woman asked shrewedly. The look in her eyes suggested she had seen off worlders before who thought they were a cut above the local variety of thug.

"You take it correctly, we are looking for short term work, a week tops while we get our ship worked over and update our nav data, then we will be out of your hair," Junebug agreed and then leaned forward slightly to rest her elbows on the table top.

"It would be a shame not to take a few credits with us though," she intonated.
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"Oh I don't doubt that. I know what it's like to want to get your hands on something." She said, biting her lip and giving a look at Neil for the briefest of moments. Junebug had been looking away at that moment, thankfully. He didn't want her to shoot their employer, but it still didn't solve the small problem. Had he not met Junebug, this girl was definitely his type. Dark and dangerous. But now that Sayeeda was his girlfriend, her look made him more than just slightly uncomfortable.

Maybe he was overthinking it, though. It was a quick look and she might simply have been playing a joke on him. Stinger continued without skipping a beat. "So, as much as I'd like to take your word on your skills, I'll need proof you're trustworthy to get a job done. I'm sure you can understand my hesitance."

"Of course!" Taya said, fingers interlocked and attentive. Neil gave her a sideeyed glance, noting she looked like she was at a normal job interview rather than looking for a likely illegal hire from a thuggish warlord.

"What exactly do you have in mind?" Junebug said, crossing her arms. Neil looked about the room to make sure there were plenty of exits in case worst turned to worse. Luckily it seemed everything was fine, with every gang member looking vaguely in their direction or outside the myriad of breakable windows they could jump out of if need be. Stinger chuckled darkly.

"I can tell we're going to get along." Her sonorously seductive voice reminiscent of the squeeze of a python. Every word wove you tighter into her point of view if one wasn't careful. Likely how she managed to rise to the top, though Neil noted she had scars to prove she could fight with the rest of them. "I have a shipment of stock that needs escorting through Kraggr Pass ten clicks west of here. Get that to its destination safely and I'll consider you hired."
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"Sounds good," Junebug agreed, "when do we get started?" The Stinger laughed an indulgent laugh at the question, which brought sycophantic smiles from the various hangers on within ear shot. It was clear that despite her outwardly pleasant persona, the thugs she surrounded herself with were rightly terrified.

"So eager," the Stinger chuckled lounging back on her chair to display her generous assets.

"The morning will be soon enough, around here we know that there is more to life than work, can I offer you lodging?" she asked with an arch look in Neil's direction.

"That won't be necessary," Junebug replied in a tone so devoid of emotion that if you didn't know her well you might have thought meant disinterest. No one who had seen Junebug in action would make that mistake.

"Well then my men will find you in the morning when we are ready to start the operation."

After a few more pleasantries they were ushered out of the building, past the drunken partying guards and back out into the city. Once they left the saftey of the armed compound, the situation deteriorated rapidly. With the addition of alcohol durgs, and the general degeneracy that seemed to come from sharing poor behavior in crowds the town had descended into more or less general chaos. Gunfire could be heard in the distance but in the random an intermittent patterns that were usually associated more with drunken good spirits rather than combat. At the dividing line between the two gangs territory thugs still shouted and posture and random civilians were being shaken down, and in the case of the women, groped, if they dared leave their dwellings. Several men staggered drunkenly towards Junebug and Taya but they weren't so drunk that Sayeeda an Neil simultaneously pulling their side arms didn't send them running.

"I had thought to sleep on the ship," Junebug said as she glanced down the street. The gangs had barricaded cars in with their bodies and the owners had abandoned them at least for the night. It didn't seem likely that any attempt to travel the few kilometers to the ship was likely to be particularly successful. Junebug took a cigarette from an ammunition pouch on her belt and sparked it alight, shielding the flame from the gentle wind with cupped hands until she got it going.

"Might not be the best idea anyway," Neil put in, "Our new employer might not think to well if it looked like we were skipping town right away. Or going to inform her insectiod buddies as to the fact that her shipment is going out to... wherever tomorrow."

"Please, if she has told anyone at, the whole city knows by now," Junebug replied, leading them away from the main boulevard without any particular destination in mind. The side streets were dark and lined with low adobe houses, many had kitchen gardens and some which might once have been prosperous. Small kitchen gardens grew behind low walls, many of which were topped with broken glass, though Junebug didn't see how that was a real deterrent. A sudden scream interrupted further conversation as a young boy, perhaps no more than thirteen years old burst from an alley, pursued by two thugs in the colors of the Scorpions. One of them whooped with glee as he kicked the childs legs from under him, sending the boy toppling to the ground. A brown paper bag spun from his hands and the boy lunged after it only to be kicked in the ribs as the second pursuer caught up.

"What have you got here street rat?" one of them laughed, snatching up the bag and shaking it like a birthday present.

"No! Please that is my fathers medicine he needs it!" the boy wailed, curling into a ball to avoid a further kick that tore the skin on his arms.

"Whoa their friends," Junebug called out taking a step towards them.

"Stay out of this bitch!" one of the thugs screamed, spinning to shriek at her with speed and fury borne of whatever drug he was strung out on. Junebug stepped within his reach before he could bring the pistol in his hand to bear, catching his wrist and delivering a punch to his stomach that drove the air from his lungs. As he doubled over she drove her elbow into his face breaking his nose with a spout of blood and pulling the gun from his hand. His partner, yelled a curse and grabbed for his own gun. Neil's shot took his hand off at the wrist a heartbeat before Junebug emptied his left eye socket with the stolen pistol. The boy shouted something that sounded like a cry to his mother as he curled up in the dirt wishing the incident to be over but psycologically unable to take any action to end it.

"Watch..." Taya shouted as a third thug, hastily pulling up his trousers from where he had been reliving himself, stepped from the alley with a sub machine gun raised. His chest exploded in bloody ruin and he tumbled to the ground, finger clamping the trigger of the weapon and blowing chunks from the adobe wall of the alley with a long spasmodic burst. Junebug shot him through the head to be certain.

"Get away from him!" a woman snapped running out of the alley with a smoking shotgun. She was in her middle years, dark of hair and dressed in the conservative garb of the locals.

"Jose get up," she told the boy, presumably her son, while she waved the shotgun in the general direction of the mercenaries. Junebug lifted the stolen pistol skyward and spread her hands to show she had no ill intent.

"Who are these people," she asked Jose as he collected the bag and scrambled to his feet, eyes darting over the now dead thugs. The one at Junebug's feet was crying, clutching at his bloody nose.

"They killed the men who attacked me, I know I should have gone out mama but papa needed his medicine an..."

"Run home Jose," the woman snapped turning and thrusting her boy off in the direction he had been running when the thugs had jumped him. The woman turned still brandishing the shotgun. Sayeeda didn't think the woman would shoot, but saw no reason to encourage it.

"Is that true, did you kill these filth?" the woman demanded, hatred evident in her voice.

"Well, that one," Junebug told her indicating the dead man laying in the middle of the alley.

"Think I have to give you credit for the one you shot though, I just dont like to take chances," Junebug explained, "Speaking of which..." she leveled the pistol at the crying man and put two shots into the back of his neck, silencing his cries. The woman jumped back wide eyed as Junebug safed the pistol and dropped it on the corpse.

"Why did you do that?!" the woman demanded. Junebug shrugged her shoulders and reached down to recover her cigarette. She gave it a mournful look and then flicked it away into the night.

"Well you used your son's name, cant take chances with people like this," Junebug advised. The woman eyes widened with understanding and she finally raised the shotgun.

"I am Magdelena," she told them, "and I owe you a great debt for saving my sons life. How can I repay you?"

"Well you dont need to..." Junebug trailed off glancing back at the almost riot going on in the main street.

"Actually, my friends and I cant get back to our ship tonight and we need a place to sleep is it possible..."

"Of course! You must stay with us, come, come," Magdelena said gesturing them to follow her. Junebug had merely intended to ask if there was a safe place she could recommend for them to find rooms but this was an acceptable alternative.
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Light spilled into the cavernous mouth of the wrecked car when Magdalena opened the trunk door with three taps on the rear axle from a small hammer. Neil gave off a low whistle when he saw the trunk of the vehicle was actually a door leading into a scrap-metal tunnel, feeding down into what looked like a large underchamber. Junebug and Neil gave one another a look whilst Taya's eyes widened in amazement. Magdalena told her little daughter to hop up and go first, and she did so obediently. She climbed onto the back bumper and hopped through, holding some loose, unplugged wiring they obviously used as a rope-like railing to descend and ascend.

Neil was told to go next, and he did so. He hopped over the bumper onto the platform, and found the way down somewhat steep by checked with various bits of scrap and wood planted to halt one from sliding, along with the wiring. Neil actually quite enjoyed this little opening, nearly doing a trick jump or two before he realized it was probably rude. That and it could damage the integrity of the tunnel around him.

One by one they made their way down, Taya coming right before Magdalena took the rear of the line. Neil had expected some vast undercity filled with huge support beams and a thriving society that gave the above-ground dystopia to shame. In reality it was barely the size of half the Highlander, and there was merely a few younger people here, all likely Magdalena's children. There was a roughly made slab of wood atop a large propeller that likely came from a surface to air, planetary flight machine. One of the younger children spun it around, sending the small toys on the table spinning.

Neil ran his hand over the wall, examining the structure of the cavern itself. He smiled. "This is an abandoned ship," He said, and on second look he was right. The walls were the color of light marble and made of pristinely designed steel, though dirt and wear/tear caked the material. Piles of junk were everywhere, though there were many cots on the ground to choose from, when the hostess presented them, of course.

"We've food ready," Magdalena said tiredly, tying her hair up in a bun and making her way to the left section of the room, beside an old door where there was a fire burning and pot set up on what looked to be a broken gravity converter holding it up. It was fascinating on how things could be rigged and utilized for different uses. Meanwhile, Taya had gone over to play with the children. That might have been a strong word, however. The oldest of the five was a young man close to Taya's age, holding what looked to be another baby sister.

Elsewhere across the room, a toilet flushed. The small sliding steel door opened by what looked to be a lever system and a bearded man walked through, brown skinned with a goatee and baggy clothing. He stopped when he saw the Highlander crew, and Magdalena hurried over to him. "Javier, these people saved Lucina. They're staying with us tonight." She explained. He pushed passed her, eyeing them. The way he held his hand, it looked like there was a concealed weapon on him.

Neil raised his hands, face easy as always. "We're not here to start trouble." He said, before he realized Junebug had already pulled on the man and the reason he had stopped was that her barrel was aimed at his forehead. Neil exhaled audibly. "But apparently we will finish it if it starts."
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The new comer, Javier apparently, froze before edging his hand slowly from his clothing. In his hand he held what appeared to be a cheaply made electric razor. Junebug's pistol vanished as quickly as it had appeared and she nodded her head in brisk apology to the man.

"It's a nervous city," the man stated, offering her the out and crossing the room to shake all three of there hands.

"Thank you for saving my son, he shouldn't have gone out there, it isn't safe for anyone after dark when the gangs are in town."

"He wen't for medicine," Junebug suggested and the man nodded.

"Heart medication, thinners and regulators, I take them since I was very young," Javier explained. As he talked Magdelena stood up and went back into a small chamber set off behind a bulkhead door. She slid it open by hand and it moved smoothly on its hinges, having evidently lost the vacuum closure in its hinges over the decades. A moment later she emerged with several large plates of spiced rice with a variety of vegetables and some kind of local sausage, she sat a plate down in front of each of them with thoughtless grace.

"It wasn't always so bad, a year ago there was a factor her from the Cartel on Kimberly, the Spiders and the Scorpions, sure they cause some problems out in the fields but not here where the Cartel could see," Javier explained, he reached into a cold box and produced six bottles of some kind of local brew, each sealed with wax and beaded with condensate.

"They were afraid of the Cartel?" Junebug asked, prising the cork out of her bottle with the point of her knife and then taking a swig. It appeared to be some kind of carbonated mead, though the alcohol burned her eyes enough to make her think it was fortified. Javier nodded sadly.

"The Cartel needs them to maintain order out on the farms, but it could bring in people from offworld for that if the locals proved to much of a pain," Javier explained, "but a year ago there was a power struggle back on Kimberly, the factor went home and hasn't been back."

"Those animals don't care what happens here so long as the drugs keep coming," Magdelana snapped with unexpected vehemence.

"Meanwhile these animals," she hooked a thumb towards the surface,"run amok here, making life miserable for the normal people."

"How long they been gearing up?" Junebg asked.

"Gearing up?" Magdelena replied, looking perplexed. Junebug shoveled the rice into her mouth with the gusto of a field soldier, talking around her food in a most unladylike fashion.

"They aren't swinging their dicks around up there, well not just that," Junebug explained, "they are both getting ready to fight, fortifying, organizing."

"I don't know about that," Javier said looking a trifle nervous.

"Mostly they just swagger around with guns."
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"Maybe you folk are just spending more time down here than up there, but it was somewhat plain to see." Neil said, flicking a spinning top that one of the youngsters had presented him. The child laughed with glee and clapped his hands, watching the top as if mesmerized. It spun in a blur on Neil's finger.

"Don't you dare insult our bravery!" Javier shouted, stomping forward threateningly. Neil nearly dropped the top at the sudden outburst, but he didn't seem perturbed or offended. Taya had seemed to have gotten somewhat cozy, albeit shyly, with the older boy at the table. As long as she didn't expect to steal him onto their ship, she could cast wayward glances all she wanted. Though both she and the boy shrank back when Javier yelled.

"I'm not insulting anybody. Just saying you've been down here a lot, right?" Neil asked, bumping the top up to spin midair before he caught it. The dexterous pilot knelt down and handed it to the boy. "I think it's smart you folk are down here, what with the kids. It's sort of why I don't want kids. Keeps me from doing fun shit like blowing stuff up and going on vacation." Javier still looked rightly pissed off, but Neil paid him no mind. "Anyway, can you tell us about who's controlling the Spiders?"

Junebug raised an eyebrow at that, curious herself. Javier's angered seemed to have disippated and he swallowed uneasily, suddenly nervous at the prospect of speaking about it. Magdalena spoke up instead. "His name is Ungol," She said, brow furrowed. She tugged at her braid absently. "I've only see him once from far off. He's half machine...and he's huge. He has six steel legs like-"

"Like a Spider." Neil finished.

"Spiders have eight legs." Junebug corrected him.

"Look, I know. But he has two arms as well, right?"

"They can't say I'm with you for your brains," She muttered teasingly. If Neil wasn't in front of the children and their parents he would have tackled her then and there. He just crossed his arms and mumbled to himself, and she ruffled his mane of hair. Magdalenda cleared her throat to draw attention, though it wasn't their attention. She gestured to multiple stacks of bowls, and one by one her kids got up and went to help serve the table.

"Please, sit. It's not often we have guests. Particularly ones who save our skins." The middle aged woman bade them, and returned to filling the bowls with a ladle. Javier for all his bluster didn't help. He just sat at the table with the guests, looking tired and put off by anything and everything. Neil guessed he was one of those men who did very little but worried over much and considered it 'working'.

"So where can we find Ungol?" Junebug asked as she was given her bowl. The question was met with abject silence. She didn't notice it until she had a spoonful of broth in her mouth. "What? We just met the Scorpion's leader."
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"You work with them?" Javier said, his face twisting with disgust. Junebug, who had been looked at by disgust by many during her mercenary career, merely shrugged. Mercenaries were rarely well regarded in the areas of operations. The local civilians tended to view foreign murders with horror and fear and their local allies tended to view them with hatred born of their own weakness.

"We work for people who can hire us," Junebug replied in a neutral tone. Magdalena laid a hand on her husbands arm, though what he intended to do other than glower Junebug couldn't imagine.

"We all do what we can to survive," Magdalena said. Junebug set down her bowl and took one of the bottles of local booze and swished it around her mouth before swallowing, choosing neither to amplify or deny the statement.

"Ungol makes his lair in the cannery on the far side of town, it dosent operate anymore, seeing all anyone is interested in on this planet is drugs," Magdalena said with surprising anger in her voice. Junebug remembered the skeletal structure from the flight in, assuming it had been some kind of abandoned construction project.

"It is a shame we cannot afford to hire men to clean the scum off this planet," Magdalena sighed.

"Honestly, other than by controlling the drugs, I don't see how anyone could, there just isn't enough industry here to afford real professionals," Junebug observed. That wasn't strictly true, like any tradesmen, there was a variety of competencies among professional mercenaries, but clearing the gangs of Tsiosinte wouldn't be a job for amateurs. Street fighting to clear out several hundred or thousand armed thugs was likely to be a messy and expensive business. The armored could have secured the planet in a month or so, though the destruction here in the city where most of the fighting would take place would have been extensive. A low end outfit might just seize control and install themselves as the new gang in charge, and even that assumed that the Cartel on Kimberly would do nothing, and a very likely response was to hire a bigger and better force of mercenaries to take the place back.

"We must hold out for better days then," Magdelena said sadly. Javier sighed in frustrated anger.

"Well let us not weary you with politics, you are tired, we have beds," Magdalena said with artificial brightness. She made a guesture to where a trio of foam pads in the corner with rolled up sleeping pads. Junebug glanced at the bedding and nodded, a little dissapointed that there was no privacy.

"Yeah, I suppose we should rack out," Junebug agreed, pushing the empty bowl back towards her host thankfully.

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The night was uneventful and dark. Only a small, flickering light in the corner of the large ramshackle room sputtered on occasionally. Neil lay beside Junebug, staring into the black ceiling. It was an odd thing, being a pilot he was used to the vacuum of space. But beneath 100 tones of steel and dirt, he felt very peculiar and unsafe. Junebug's strong arm wrapping around him in her sleep made him feel a bit better though, and soon he drifted off into a dreamless slumber.

The next day was quick, to say the least. Neil, Junebug, and Taya ate a quick meal of what seemed to be watery oats before they made it topside as quietly as they could to avoid anyone seeing the secret home Magdalena and her family had. She let them know a few people knew of its location, but bringing attention to it wasn't the best idea and so they climbed out into the morning sun. The butt of the car faced toward a rundown, abandoned steel mill and a few broken down mechs. Once they got around the pile of scrap around the car, they saw the town was far different than what they left last night.

It bustled with hovercarts being pulled by strange two legged lizards; there were merchantmen discussing business in the streets and waving papers, haggling to their hearts content; women with closely laced bodices sashayed across the street. If Neil didn't know much better he would have thought last night had been some weird dream. But a closer look gave him the impression that was a fool's idea. Loitering around the inn and saloons, and a card house were men with tattoos of scorpions and spiders. Some men wore the insignias on their scarves.

"The saloon looks like it has some cigars," Neil said with a sly catch to his voice. He wasn't one to indulge often, but a cigar sounded fine for the morning.

"Do we have time for that?" Taya asked, squinting against the sun with her hand over her eyes. Neil turned back to her and grinned his usual grin, shrugging.

"I'm just getting a cigar. Don't worry about it." He said. He wasn't sure what time limit they were on anyway. Stinger would call them when she needed them, and they had all day to go and see Ungol. "Besides, we could use some fun every once in awhile. Why am I always the one that needs to cut loos-"

A gun cocked behind him, and then three more followed suit. He turned, mildly curious to see four men, or more accurately, three men and a man with scales like a snake, aiming ion pistols at him. Neil raised an eyebrow. They were usually used against machines, but they could fry an unarmored man just the same. Much like using a flare gun at point blank range. Either way it'll get the job done quickly and brutally.

"Any of you boys got a light?"

"You were the ones that went with the Scorpions last night weren'tcha?" The scaly man asked. He had frills for ears and whatever alien he was, his people had long gotten rid of useless things like lips or fully formed noses. Instead it looked like his whole face was shoved out by a particularly hard punch from behind. After blinking, Neil saw past the shine of the sun that they had a Spider insignia on their scarves. "You're going to tell us exactly what you did that for..."
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Junebug lifted her hands slightly in an effort to appear non-threatening. It was at best partially successful. There was a cold math to making a play when you had a gun on you and although she was quick, it was unlikely she would be quick enough, or their adversaries incompetent enough that at least one of them wouldn't be shot in the few heart beats it would take to draw and fire.

"We are mercenaries, looking for work," she admitted candidly. Then men scowled at his pronouncement and the lizard like man gave a low gutural hiss.

"The lady of the house didn't seem to think very much of 'jumped up space trash who think they are hot shit' though," she added as she slowly turned to face the gunmen. Neil and Taya also turned keeping their hands clear of weapons. Looking an enemy in the eye had the advantage that you might catch the momentary tense that precceded action, though Junebug would not have liked to have bet her life on being able to read an alien. Untrained men were also less likely to shoot someone that was looking them in the eye, though that might or might not apply with these thugs.

"So the Spider bitch didn't hire you hey?" the lizard snapped. Junebug shrugged.

"We did get a nice ride in a rather shitty jeep out of the deal," she admitted, getting a nervous snicker from the accompanying men. The lizard glanced back at his cohort in some irritation.

"Well the bitch's poor judgement keeps you alive for now but if you want to live, you come see the boss at the old cannery, who knows..." he looked Junebug and Taya up and down with a lewd grin.

"Maybe he figures you aren't so useless... but if you sign on with the Spiders..." the lizard jerked his pistol sideways and fired into a brick wall, vaporising a fist sized chunk of rock that sprayed his own men. They stumbled and cursed and one managed to fire his weapon into an overhead walk way. A woman's head appeared and shouted a curse before ducking back a moment ahead of a short burst that slapped the upward face of the building. The lizard like alien looked annoyed by Junebug's lack of reaction but turned and led his men out of the alley. Once they vanished around the corner Junebug let out a long breath. Adrenaline burned through her body, desperate to be burned off but without a proper outlet.

"I think maybe I'll join you in that cigar..."
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*Four Hours Later*

"I don't care what you say bitch, this is how we do it on Tiosinte. The Widow might say you are on this run but I am in charge here!" Miguel snarled, his eyes wide with rage. Judging from the boozy sweat oozing out of the swarthy gangsters pores, he had been hitting the bottle pretty hard the previous night and doubtlessly his hangover was not improving his mood. Junebug rolled her eyes and hopped down off the skirting of the six wheeled jeep walking back to a similar vehicle where Neil and Taya sat sweating. It was nearly midday and the scorching sun beat down relentlessly casting almost no shadows over the sunbaked landscape. They stood at the top of a shallow rocky valley, atwart a dusty road that stretched nearly twenty kilometers back to the city. THe buildings were invisible now in the heat haze and dust, though the distant crack of a starship sinking towards the port drifted over the desert.

"They aren't going to listen to me," Junebug told Neil as she climbed into the passenger seat of the jeep, unslinging her rifle and thrusting it butt down into a holding clamp between driver and passenger. She took a canteen of water from Neil and drank greedily before screwing the cap back in place and wiping her lips with the back of her hand. The approach that Miguel and the other score of toughs 'always' took was a poor one. The walls of the valley constricted movement and provided cover for snipers and ambushes in the rocky hillsides. The convoy consisted of six escort vehicles, three jeeps and three flat bed trucks with pintle mounts welded to the frame to mount heavy machine guns, and in one case, a reconciles rifle. Beyond that were three tankers, rusted and dilapidated things that carried the ethanol matrix that was used to transport the drug to market. Given the vulnerability of the tankers to even small arms fire, Junebug had to imagine that either attacks were rare, or the attackers were more interested in stealing the trucks than they were in destroying them.

"Yeah well I didn't think they would," Neil admitted, puffing on the cigar between his lips. Junebug took it from him and took a drag herself before passing it back.

"Are we really going to work with these assholes Junebug?" Taya all but whined. She was dressed in a set of Sayeeda's fatigues and carried a squat but powerful automatic rifle. During their training sessions on the Highlander she had performed well with the weapon though JUnebug was privately skeptical that she would be able to control her excitement if a real firefight broke out. She was uncomfortable with Taya being along at all, she was learning fast but she wasn't a soldier in the sense that she and Neil were. It might have been better to have her return to the Highlander and to bring Saxon, but she preferred to keep the Hex in reserve and hell, everyone had to cut their teeth someplace. It might as well be against yokels who couldn't hit the broad side of barn.

"A deal is a deal," Junebug responded, though her voice lacked any emotion whatever. People who hired mercenaries were very rarely people Junebug could personally like. It was part of the job that everyone had to get used to sooner or later. The universe could be an ugly place, and odds were, if you picked a life that centered around killing people for money, you weren't much of a prize yourself.

"They aren't even paying us," Taya bitched, lifting a set of binoculars to her head and scanning the ridge lines.

"Not in credits anyway," Junebug responded enigmatically. Taya opened her mouth to ask what Junebug meant by that but before she could do so Miguel shouted something and the jeep kicked up dust as it began its way down into the pointlessly exposed valley. The remaing vehicles of the convoy stirred to life, diesel engines roaring as they crested the slight lip and began the decent. According to Miguel the village they were delivering this stuff to was at the end of the valley, where a shallow river allowed enough irrigation for growing. Junebug slipped her helmet onto her head and keyed a patrol preset that carroted movement and threat. It wouldn't be great without a more sophisticated sensor package to tie into but it was probably better than nothing. She pulled her rifle from the clamp and laid it across her lap.

"Keep your eyes open," she advised as her dust filters clamped into place to stop her inhaling a lung full of grit and sand.
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The sun beat down on Neil like he was a middle school band geek in the boys locker room. Taking a drag from the cigar, he didn't really mind it. Back on his homeplanet, he'd lived in one of the hotter regions. There was nothing like leaving your cold house to sit down in the mech you built yourself and heat up from the midday sun. Admittedly, he was overly thirsty and he took a big swig of his canteen of water, provided by Stinger herself.

She'd only given him one, and to his distress she had given it to Junebug to give to him. Sayeeda had been devoid of emotion handing it to him, but he quickly reminded her they could share now and fuck Stinger over by paying it no attention, which is what they had been doing since they got out here. What really bothered Neil, other than Stinger's attentions, was Taya wielding an assault weapon and having it on-hand at all times. He loved her but she was so excitable he didn't want to be within range when the fighting started...if the fighting started.

"I can tell you've never been an intern." Neil jibbed at Taya, grinning in the sunlight. He wore his trademark glasses, giving him a particularly arrogant look.

"An intern? What's that?" She asked him as the vehicles began to kick up dust when they picked up speed.

Neil could just barely believe she was serious. He wiggled his fingers on one hand lazily while he explained. "That's a position you take at a company or what-have-you that's unpaid, but gives you work experience to do your next job. People do it so they can be recommended elsewhere."

"...That...sounds like slave labor."

"...It kind of is, but luckily what we're doing is better than an internship. Our employment is guaranteed after we pull of this little score here, yeah?" He said, nudging her with his elbow a bit. "Come on, at least we'll get paid soon. Better than drifting through space with no hope like we were doing."

"Keep. your. eyes. open." Junebug ordered again. Neil looked her way and saw her, foot on the dashboard with her back foot behind her to keep her steady, and rifle in the air, head covered. She looked so picturesque and blatantly militaristic he would have figured she was the spokesman for some inter-stellar mercenary company. Neil slid his goggles over his eyes and swung his legs around, now watching their backs at the back of the jeep, weapon ready.

"Yes captain."
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For a time it seemed as though Sayeeda’s concerns might be for nothing. The little convey rumbled along the valley floor raising a pall of dust that was blown behind them by the desert wind. There was no proper road but the path had evidently been traveled enough to pack the earth into a functional road.

“Keep your eyes open,” Junebug advised Taya, “Watch particularly high ground that isn’t a peak, snipers prefer not to be at the absolute pinnacle of a formation.” Taya nodded looking keyed up as though an enemy force might appear on the ridgeline at any moment. There was no cure for a green soldier other than to see action but Junebug would feel better once the girl learned the trick of settling down and keeping calm till it dropped in the pot.

“Do you think it is likely there will be an attack?” Taya asked. Junebug shook her head. It wasn’t very likely if they were using soft skins like this. She and Neil could have taken out the whole convoy without difficulty if that had been their goal. The windshield shattered a moment before they heard the rifle report and a round spanged off the engine block with a metallic shriek. There were shouts of concern from the other cars and gun fire ripped from a half dozen sources at as many different targets as their were gunmen in the convoy. Neil slammed his foot on the accelerator as Junebug rose into a shooting stance, swinging her rifle towards the carrot the AI had thrown up for the muzzle flash, no where near where the gangsters were firing as it turned out. She sighted but didn’t fire as the sniper had already ducked back into cover. She kept her weapon trained for several seconds but the shooter didn’t reappear.

“New guys get up here!” Miguel shouted as his car swerved close to them, kicking a storm of dust and grit over them that prickled at Junebug’s skin.

“We are already up here,” Junebug shouted. Miguel gestured violently in the general direction of the ridge.

“Get up there and take care of that shooter!” he shrieked, clearly panicked despite the fact it wasn’t his car that had been hit. Junebug arched an eyebrow and then shrugged her shoulders.

“You got it boss,” she drawled. Neil gunned the engine, swerving in front of Miguel’s car and spraying a rooster tail of dust over the gangsters car to curses and shouts. One of the thugs fired randomly in their direction. Junebug stood, turned and fired back, the optics on her helmet allowing her to put a shot within six inches of the mans head, he dropped his gun and slapped his hands over his ears.

“Goddess damned amateurs,” she groused as they raced up to the base of the ridge. Neil wove in slow zig zags as she watched with her rifle up. Taya gripped her weapon and scanned the ridge, her finger on the trigger.

“Pull it up next to that path,” she told Neil, pointing to a sloping track that snaked its way up the rocky side of the valley. Neil complied, sliding into the spot so that he had maximum acceleration away from the rise.

“You wan’t me?” Neil asked.

“Yes, but not for this,” she teased before turning and nodding to Taya.

“Your up, stay behind me and don’t shoot until I do,” she instructed, jumping out of the car and jogging towards the path.

“You got it Sayeeda,” the younger woman replied.

“Don’t go too far but get some distance incase anyone gets an idea with a grenade,” she told Neil. The two women ascended the cliff in a series of tactical hops, covering each other as they scrambled up over rocks. To Sayeeda’s amazement the rest of the convoy was already moving on. That wasn’t a bad thing, but it was better organization than she gave the Scorpions credit for. They had nearly reached the top when the motion detector pinged and gave a read out. Sayeeda pulled a grenade from her pocket and pulled the pin then tossed it up over the large boulder that blocked the way forward. There was a flat crump of detonation and then Junebug was around the rock gun up. Taya was a step behind her keyed up and ready to shoot. Junebug slapped the younger woman’s weapon up and the rifle fired into the sky. Clutching his ears was a boy, maybe thirteen years old, he had evaded the grenade blast and was scrambling for his dropped rifle. Junebug stepped forward and kicked the rifle away. The boy screamed and lunged at her, his eyes wide with fear and hate. Junebug caught him by the front of the shirt and slammed him against a boulder.

“Easy kid,” she cautioned the boy who continued to scrabble at her arm and kick at her armored chest.

“I’ll kill you!” the boy snarled, shaking his dark hair out of his eyes.

“Yeah shit maybe, you hit our car with that piece of shit rifle from this range, pretty bad ass,” she admitted. The child stilled, confused by the compliment and scared out of his wits.

“But not today,” she told him setting him down.

“Why are you up here shooting at us?” she asked, sitting down on a nearby boulder.

“Those animals killed my father, because he wouldn’t grow their drugs!” the kid yelled before beginning to cry. Junebug and Taya exchanged looks.

“I see,” Junebug said, her face hard as granite. She sat silent for a long minute, the quiet broken only by the distant rumble of engines.

“You ok babe?” Neil asked over the radio, jolting her out of her ponderings.

“Yeah, we are coming down,” she replied, pausing for a moment before making a decision.

“Get your gun kid,” she told the boy, indicating the gun, “we will give you a ride home.”
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"What the fuck?" Miguel whispered on his comm. Neil could tell Miguel wasn't really passionate about taking risks. He was a 9-5 kinda guy. Still, the pilot was confused too, seeing Junebug heading down the ridge with a thirteen or fourteen year old carrying a rifle right behind her. He knew it was a kid but if he decided to turn that barrel on Sayeeda she'd have no chance of surviving. Taya behind the both of them should have made him feel at ease, but lo and behold it didn't. They might not be too far off, but with the sun glaring down on Neil he wasn't the crackshot he usually was.

"Who the hell is that?" Neil called to her when she was in earshot, vaulting over the back of the junker they'd been driving.

"Who the hell are you!?" The younger kid said, pointedly trying to make Neil not talk past him. Far from it, actually. Neil was a big kid himself. He knew kids were far smarter and more wiley than people gave them credit for. That being said...

"Who the fuck are you talking to!?" He yelled at the kid.

"Down boy. You're here to be pretty, not speak." Junebug remarked, trying to hide a smile from him. Neil gave her a look, knowing she was just trying to demasculate him in front of the kid. Taya had arrived to stand by the young shooter, and Neil thought they were pretty much the same size. It nearly made him laugh, but he decided to just poke Sayeeda more to explain what was going on. She acquiesced a moment later, taking the sling of her rifle off her shoulder and placing it beside her seat in the junker. "We're taking this kid back to his place."

"Is that cool with the boss?" He asked.

"We were hired to protect the caravan...we protected it. What does it matter we're a little late to making it back? They don't pay us to kill kids."

Neil tongued his toothpick, hefting his own gun in the sunlight. "You got it, Captain."
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Judging by his increasingly demanding comm calls, Miguel was both confused and irritated by Sayeeda’s new passenger. She made no reply to his transmissions simply staring out into the desert, which was probably unprofessional as he was technically the representative of her putative employer. At one point Miguel went so far as to swerve toward their car. Sayeeda reacted to this simply by laying her rifle across her lap, casually, but in a fashion that pointed the weapon at the Spider commander’s jeep. The disrupter rifle was a formidable weapon but, as she had seen on Cylonikea, it lacked penetrating power. The solution had been to attach an underslung grenade launcher that she had stripped from an assault shotgun. The lancher was configured to fire self forging penetrators, copper discs seated against a small charge of explosive that would forge the plate into a spearhead of hypersonic metal. The weapon was designed to threaten light armored vehicles and would certainly gut a soft skin jeep like a rifle bullet opening a can of soup. Miguel probably didn’t realize exactly what the weapon was, but it would be obvious to a fool that being on the other end of it was contra-indicated and he made a frustrated gesture and swerved away.

“What are you thinking?” Taya asked, clearly uneasy with the situation. The young woman had the most visceral distaste for the bandits but she was obviously determined not to be caught napping.

“For right now we are going to finish this job,” Junebug said glancing sideways at Neil. The pilot didn’t appear to have a reaction, which might be because he was thinking along the same lines as Junebug. The convoy rolled up out of the valley and over the low hillock at the end. A broad valley spread out before them, incongruous green due to irrigation channels that gathered a shallow river into weirs and canals that radiated outwards from the water like the bones of a fish. Small huts stood at intervals along the canals surrounded by a greenish orange crop with thick succulent leaves like beach grass. The hutts appeared to be made primarily of sheets of extruded plastic, often printed with the logos representing beers and soups and other canned goods. Judging by a half destroyed hutt on the edge of the town, the locals packed mud between two layers of the stuff to provide some insulation from the heat. Small kitchen gardens surrounded the huts, mostly beans, tomatoes, and other crops which could be trained to climb wooden lattices. Here and there, scrawny chickens wandered pecking at bugs and other fare among the plants. The locals toiled in the fields, picking the leaves and tossing them into woven wicker panniers or scooping buckets of water from the canals to pour into pvc piping that served as cheap drip irrigation. At the end of the village where the much diminished stream turned away to the west was a large shed sided with corrugated iron. Judging by the pile of picked leaves at one end and the barrels of transport matrix stacked haphazardly at the other, that was the … facility might be to grand a term, that the spiders used to stabilize and transport the narcotic leaves. Beyond the shed was a banked dirt road which followed the river. Along the top of the bank were a series of stakes, perhaps a half dozen, each decorated with a corpse in various stages of decay. Some were merely blackened skeletons but the latest one was ripe enough that the sound of vehicles cresting the ridge startled a swarm of flies into the air, though they returned just as quickly.

“What the fuck?” Taya exclaimed, pulling out her binoculars to get a better look. Seeing it up close didn’t please her any more and she gagged slightly.

“You bastards did this!” the kid beside Taya snapped in a voice that clearly verged on tears.

“They shoot anyone who they think grows too much food and not enough drugs, or anyone that dosent grovel enough and they stake them up there,” he spat. Junebug’s mouth compressed into a frown but she didn’t speak.

As the small convoy pulled up in front of the shed a dozen bored looking Spiders ambled out into the midday sun. Some of them looked like they might have been drunk or drugged, others scratched and swatted at insects but all were heavily armed. Miguel hopped from his jeep and started to stalk towards the trio of mercenaries. Before he could open his mouth however a woman in a dirty white dress let out a shout and rushed across from the nearest field.

“Rodrigo!” she shouted arms opened wide.

“Mama!” the sniper, apparently Rodrigo, shouted and tried to hop out of the car. Unfortunately the woman’s run brought her past Miguel who grabbed her by the neck. The woman whipsawed in an almost comicbook fashion and let out a strangled squeak. Rodrigo let out a scream and grabbed for his rifle but Neil slapped his hand down on the weapon to prevent him from pointing it. There was a general stiffening as men grabbed for their own weapons.

“Looks like I get to wipe out a whole family of useless scum,” Miguel commented, sounding very much like the cat who ate the canary as he drew a pistol and pointed it at the womans head.

“Hey,” Junebug called, “they aren’t paying us to shoot women and children.”

“Shut it bitch, they aren’t paying you at all! We know how to keep order in our own territory and we don’t need no advice from snooty off world putas!”

“Funny,” Junebug observed, “that wherever you go in the universe you will find someone willing to call you a bitch and a whore. Some things truely are universal.

“Junebug we can’t just let…” Taya began but Junebug chopped the air to silence her as she vaulted over the side of the car and landed facing Neil, Taya and the boy.

“This train is about to start rolling kids,” she told them in a quiet serious voice, “if anyone wants to get off, now is the time.” Rodrigo stared at her in mute terror his eyes darting between her and his mother.

“You know I’m always ready to dance babe,” Neil replied with a wink.

“Junebug… there are thirty of them…” Taya began, clearly not wanting to look afraid but also cognisant that they were out gunned to an almost ludicrous degree.

“Thirty seven,” Junebug corrected, then turned and walked over to where Miguel stood. She had her rifle but she kept it pointed out the ground, her manner nonchalant and the thugs seemed to relax.

“Please spare my son!” the woman wailed imploringly, Miguel responded by clouting her with the barrel of his pistol hard enough that the gun came away bloody. There was a strangled shout from the car and Miguel grinned evilly.

“So goods delivered, jobs done right?” Junebug asked, her voice so casual that despite the tense situation the guards seemed to relax another degree. Miguel frowned as he clutched the moaning woman, clearly taken aback by the apparent non-sequitur.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded. Junebug made a gesture that looked like a shrug with her rifle.

“I mean, we have delivered the goods so the job is complete? Right?” she asked, making the same gesture with her weapon.

“Of course the job is complete you stupid…”

Junebug’s left hand came out from behind her back and tossed something small and hard at Miguel. His attention had been on her disruptor rifle and so he was taken by surprise. The grenade hit him in the mouth with a clack of breaking teeth and then exploded in a blinding white light that made the midday sun seem like a distant candle. The blast was literally stunning to anyone looking at it, which she hoped wasn’t Neil and Taya, but her helmet’s sophisticated combat AI was able to blank her visor and harden her hearing protection to resist the concussion. It didn’t protect her from the overpressure of the blast, but between her battle armor and years of experience she was still able to move. Sayeeda leaped towards Miguel tackling the woman to the ground a she caught her around the waist, the weight of her gear and armor bowling her over effortlessly. Gunfire erupted from all points as the gangsters tried to shake off the effects of the flashbang. Junebug picked the woman up and tossed her bodily into the nearest canal and then leaped after her, landing in the hip deep water in a spray of mud before whipping her weapon up to rest on the edge of the improvised trench and opening fire.
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The flash bang lit Neil's eyes up like someone had brained him and he saw the white flash of death. He had managed to close his eyes just after it exploded, and he was wearing his shades, so while he didn't get the extreme brunt of the weapon's explosion, he did experience some real bad disorientation and a very picturesque image in his head of Junebug's stance and the surprised mercs. An image that was very much now outdated as Junebug had likely moved and the men had probably fallen over in surprise. Neil crouched down and closed his eyes, moving to the right where he recalled one of the ramshackle sheds stood.

He heard four rounds pop off to his left, and he recognized it as Junebug's rifle. A curse sounded from past Neil's position, and he heard three heavy thumps. They were likely falling bodies.

"Do you feel like killing someone Neil?" He said in a faux-Sayeeda tone, sarcasm dripping out of his lips. "You don't mind if I throw a flashbang do you? Nyeh nyeh nyeh."

Truth be told he was just being dumb. He actually preferred this all happen rather than letting the kid's mother die in front of his eyes. That and Junebug throwing her weight around was sexy as fuck. As long as they killed all these men and didn't let it get leaked back to Stinger, they would still have employment and make a mother and her kid very happy. He opened his eyes and saw his vision was more or less back, and he theorized he had about another four seconds before the merc's eyes came back to full capacity too, so he took the best of it and flipped the safety off his autogun.

Rather than join the captain, he went the opposite way to flank the mercenaries, raising the gun to his eyeline to aim with his ironsights. Crack, crack, crack! Three head shots, the bullets punching through scarfs and skulls. He switched to burst fire and started to fire once more, taking men in the heads, chests, arms, and lower backs. Dust kicked up and people began to scream as the mercs started firing back wildly. Neil cursed and rolled, taking a small hit in the lower leg. He stopped and saw blood streaked behind him but he checked and it had only been a glancing shot.

He turned his gun to full auto, 15 shots left and all of them were sprayed in two passes through the shed he hid behind, knowing the mercs were just on the otherside. Following the shots from Junebug and the wild ones from the mercs, Neil knew there was pretty much none of them left by the time he had expended his clip. Hastily shouldering the weapon along its strap, he took out his sidearm and aimed it ahead, stepping out to see Junebug rising from her position, seemingly satsified. Taya, for what training she had, was still crouched behind the little trench.

Rodrigo and his mother clutched one another, too shaken to really appreciate the moment just yet. Neil turned to see about a dozen dead bodies, punctured and ripped to shreds by all the gunfire. Miguel's head was bloated like a blood gorged tick, shattered teeth splattered across the ground.

"Man," Neil said. "That was some attack by the Spiders. Better go tell Stinger, eh?"
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Bullets lifted sprays of dirt and dust along the edge of the irrigation canal as Sayeeda ducked into the shelter of the earthen trench. There were enough gunmen firing and shouting in confusion, and enough of them, certainly those who had still been with the vehicles, were far enough from the stun grenade to have a reasonable chance of hitting her. Fortunately the trench was as effective for her now as it had been for the soldiers of ancient Terra in the distant past as she ducked into its protecton. The woman, Rodrigo’s mother, tried to stand but Sayeeda kicked her down ruthlessly.

“Stay down!” she yelled over the roar of gunfire, the last thing she needed was for the woman to get her head blown off because she was too stupid or paniced to stay in cover. That probably wasn’t fair, she had taken the brunt of the flashbang without protection at a distance of less than a foot, she was probably lucky to be in good enough shape to panic.

The water only half way up her shins in the shallow channel so Junebug took off in a crouching run for a few meters before popping up and putting a round into Miguel’s head. The gang leader hadn’t moved more than a few feet, had dropped his weapon, and was clutching at his eyes when he met his death, but he had been the only gunman whose position she could reliably predict. Everyone was firing now, bullets struck puffs of dust from the dry soil and punched holes in the corrugated iron of the shed, but there were still a few moments of confusion to be exploited. Sayeeda swung her rifle towards the jeep that mounted the recoilless rifle. One of the thugs on the back, smarter than his friends, was trying to swing the big weapon to bear on Neil and Sayeeda’s jeep, but the two meter long metal tube was heavy and even a strong man couldn’t swing it the one hundred and twenty or so degrees it needed to cover to bear on a vehicle which no one had thought of as a threat in the few seconds he had. Junebug fired, not with the rifle but with the underslung grenade launcher. The weapon was rocket driven so there was no recoil, though backblast from the small charge warmed her fingers. The grenade didn’t have time to even drop the few millimeters of a ballistic curve before the secondary detonation went off, firing the spear of molten copper into the unarmored jeep. Though in recent times Sayeeda had done most of her fighting on foot, the instincts of a tanker were ingrained and she had noted the location of the fuel reservoirs before she climbed aboard her own vehicle. The penetrator smashed through the fuel tank like a rifle round hitting a melon, a moment later the blast wave hit and aerosolized the synthetic diesel fuel a heart beat before the explosion set the whole mix off. As fuel air explosions went it was fairly low order, but it flipped the truck like a tiddlywink, tossing the remains of the vehicle three meters into the air in an end over end tumble that ended with the chassis smashing into the corrugated iron shed like a wrecking ball. Bodies flew out in ballistic arcs in three different directions. One of them hit the side of a trench, bounced and then vanished into the sluice with splash. Something hit Sayeeda in the chest, shrapnel or a lucky round, and slammed her into the side of the irrigation ditch with enough force to drive her armored chest plate down onto her thighs, but the ceramic armor spread the impact wide enough that there was no penetration. The impact of the blast raised a vast donut of dust and the overpressure was literally stunning. Taya had gotten behind the gunshield of their own vehicle, a good instinct under the circumstances, though without a driver to provide mobility it wouldn’t have been Sayeeda’s choice. Nonetheless it was Taya, protected from the blast to an extent by the steel gunshield, who reacted first. Her fingers clamped the trigger of the pintle mount and the weapon roared at full automatic, star shaped muzzle flashes standing out like fireworks in the dust choked air. The gun plowed a row in the dirt before the girl managed to correct and hose the fire up onto the second gun jeep. Sparks flew and metal screamed and bodies flew apart as the long burst filled the vehicle with ricocheting death. Junebug slapped her helmet to switch her view to millimetric radar and her view changed from the muted layers of dust to a greyscale representation of the battle. She saw Neil moving and firing at the run, cutting down the knot of survivors who had gathered around Miguel with a pistol in each hand. She ducked back into the trench for a moment to avoid the blast of a grenade hurled by one of the panicking gangsters, then popped back up and sighted on the final jeep. A gunner, a bearded man with a bandolier of grenades slung from shoulder to hip shoved, another thug who had frozen in terror out of the way. He was probably screaming but there was no room in the world for any more noise. He slewed the weapon towards Taya, firing before he even bore. Junebug squeezed her trigger and punched a round into his chest. The grenades on his bandolier gang fired sending a plume of fire bright enough to be seen even through the visual dampening of her visor shooting into the sky. The overpressure thrust the jeep down into the ground on squealing shock absorbers. The vehicle survived the detonation but the gun’s ammunition cooked off in a cavalcade of smaller detonations which shredded the gun mount and the cab. To Junebug’s amazement she saw Rodrigo pop up out of the back of the truck and take a shot at something, although she couldn’t see what it was. Still moving at a run along the axis of the ditch, she fired at the carrots her AI threw up for her, indistinct man shaped blurs through the opaque clouds of dust, the whang! whang! whang! of the disruptor like a lethal metronome as she panned it across the battle space. The surviving gangsters, and by now they were few, seemed to be trying to run, or cower in place, but she didn’t let that slow her down. When you were outnumbered ten to one, the only move was to hit and keep hitting until there was no one left.

Abruptly all the carrots were down. That didn’t mean they were all dead, but the AI marked them as no threat, which meant, at Sayeeda programmed and very conservative threat estimates, probably dead. Gunfire still roared from the jeep as Taya continued to fire into the splintered remains of the enemy jeep. Her weapon didn’t have the hitting power to set of an explosion like Junebugs had, but the fuel tank had been shredded and the vehicle was already burning. Certainly there was no one alive in the wreck now.

“Cease fire, cease fire,” Junebug called over the comm circuit but it was another two seconds before the badly overheated weapon jammed, its barrel glowing cherry red from the continuous fire. A distant and analytical part of her mind made a note to give Taya some instruction on crew served weapons when she had the time. Still, the jam seemed to give the girl a moment to absorb Junebug’s order and she pulled her hand away from the guns grips.

“I’m coming out,” Junebug cautioned before clambering out of the trench, dripping muck from her lower trousers and boots. Her chest and legs began to throb as the adrenaline started to fade and she changed her magazine reflexively. According to the shot counter in her helmet she had only fired 19 of her thirty rounds, but replacing a mag was as automatic as breathing was. Reaching down she brushed at the discoloration just below her left breast where a slug had smeared her armor with molten metal, she was lucky it had only been a pistol round, but the thug had probably been lucky to hit her at all. Briefly he had been lucky at any rate.

Dust eddied in the air for a moment before the desert wind seemed to draw it back like a curtain. Junebug switched her helmet back to optical and surveyed the damage. The shed had been partially demolished, leaning drunkenly even as pale flames, presumably from the ethanol matrix, licked from underneath it. The jeep Taya had shot up burned also sending up a thick pall of black smoke shot through with ugly red flames. The air stank of cordite and burning flesh mixed with the subtle stink of feces voided by dying men. Rodrigo had found his mother and was clinging to her, his eyes wide with shock and horror. He had planned to bring the battle to the gangsters, but he couldn’t have had any idea what that actually meant.

“Man,” Neil said. ‘That was some attack by the spiders. Better go tell Stinger eh?”

Junebug snorted, pulling her canteen from her belt and taking a long drink to dislodge the dust from her throat. She swilled the chilled fluid around her mouth and spat it onto the dirt. Something exploded within the ruins of the shed, though it wasn’t energetic enough to get excited about. Taya stepped from the jeep flexing her fingers to work out cramps. She looked around clearly working hard to appear nonchalant in face of the carnage.

“No kidding,” Junebug agreed, tucking her half expended magazine into a pouch for later refilling.

“We were lucky to survive,” she added, though that was closer to the truth than Neil’s statement. Villagers were appearing from their houses now that the firing had stopped, peering at them in shock and disbelief.

“I can’t believe we killed the people we were working for,” Taya said after a moment. Junebug shook her head.

“Hey Miguel said the job was done, we didn’t have a contract after that,” Junebug explained. Taya stared at her, evidently having trouble recalling the moments before the sudden and bloody firefight had erupted.

“Junebug,” Taya said in amazement, “that is the most spurious technicality I have ever heard.”

Junebug nodded and took another drink of water, half draining the canteen in a single long draught before taking a seat on an empty barrel.

“Maybe, but never let it be said that I broke a contract,” she replied. Neil snickered at that.

“Sorry I couldn’t give you any more warning,” she told them, gesturing to Rodrigo’s mother who was now openly weeping as she clutched her son.

“But speaking of contracts… I think we might make a stop before we report these events to Stinger…”

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