A resistance warship flies into battle against the Conglomerate, a mecha-company conquering planets for minerals and slave labor. When the ship crashes above the plains, the five people on board battle for survival across their world, pursued by th...
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The lingering bruises on the Recruit's arms and chest are fading now, moving from twilight blue to lavender-yellow dawn. They've been running for days now, fatigue setting in as adrenaline wears off. Injuries are healing, but slowly, the progress towards recovery hampered by the continuous, battering pace the Mechanic and the Gunner set to keep them ahead of the foot patrol on their heels. The Double keeps up with them easily in the mornings, but begins to flag most afternoons, her body not regenerating the blood she's lost, the deficit of oxygen in her body making her slip into exhaustion faster.
Days pass in the Forest, long marches through the thick foliage, thorns biting skin with every tired stumble, mud and water soaking their feets until their toes are sickly white when they take off their boots at night. The tense silence between the Mechanic and the Double remains. The Gunner pushes them on, purpose in her stride, buffering the animosity between them with her relentlessness and brusque mannerisms. The Recruit is glad of her presence; without it, he fears he would have gone mad or would have had to watch the Double and the Mechanic rip each other to pieces.
They know they cannot make it much further before the Conglomerate catches them. The Mechanic constantly badgers the Double to turn and head for the Conglomerate base and steal a ship but she steadfastly refuses, fearing the odds are not in their favor and arguing they are safer on foot whereas a ship can be tracked.
As if summoned by the ill will simmering between them, a sneering voice floats out of the dense foliage, surprising them all with its nearness. "Oh darling," comes the Commander's voice. "Darling, darling runaways."
The four of them grab each other to run but in their exhaustion, they've let the berserkers get within tracking distance. They can smell the genetic monstrosities, partially obscured by the humid rot and detritus of the Forest, but now identifiable as a meaty scent when the first soldiers come out of the undergrowth.
The foliage is so dense that they barely make progress, flight impossible. The Gunner realizes this faster than anyone else and turns for the hand-to-hand combat. There is nothing polite about the battles that follow; the Recruit has only ever sparred in training and knows steps of choreography, not their application in the scrum of a real fight. What comes next is all about survival.
The Gunner's tactic is brawny, all about her brute strength, no hesitation, no mercy. She doesn't hesitate to fight dirty, her fists as well as the butt of her rifle involved in bludgeoning soldiers into submission, the powerful muscles of her legs and core bunching with effort and propulsive force.
The Mechanic keeps attackers at a distance, using his longer legs and pistol to push soldiers back so he can strike from range. What his strikes lack in finesse, they more than make up the difference with the precision with which he finds carotid or femoral arteries, causing massive bloodloss with each bullet and knife strike. Hemmed in by the trees, he is finding it difficult to repel at range but is doing his part to push the Conglomerate thugs back.
