Tryzer brought the Thundrum down to the ground as close as he humanely could to the HSMP without setting off its sensors.

The Thundrum skidded on the ground before rolling to grind, then picked up its pace whilst speeding across the sandy surface of the Carib Waste.

Not before long, an HSMP tower appeared in front of us, and we passed it by. HSMP stands for Heat-Seeking Missile Perimeter. It’s a missile guidance system array that shoots anything within one hundred meters within its sensor.

The system was set up in a way, that anything that flew, was shot down immediately. A countermeasure to ensure no one could enter Antillean Air space easily.

These towers were raised during the Second Continent War when Antillea, Latrina and no plane has ever flown through Antillean Federation airspace without clearance.

Anything in the sky would be shot down. No questions asked.

As we were hunting for Elhisia’s kidnappers, we didn’t have clearance, which kept us grounded.

“Gentleman, welcome to the Waste,” Tryzer said, only for everyone to groan out in annoyance.

You see, there was an unwritten rule amongst mercs and soldiers. Once you’ve passed the HSMP, you were officially in the Waste.

…and once you were officially in the Waste, so were your concerns, about returning

Bones crunched beneath the Thundrum’s wheels filtered through. Annoying me as my SMB still clutched my brain tighter as time passed on.

I stimulated it and felt a jolting tingle shot down my spine, and watched as my Cybernetic eye read out my Slethe levels.

Slethe levels 27%

Shit, my synchronization is waning I thought, feeling agitated.

The hallway of reefs we were passing through was dead. I was taught that reefs were once rich in varying colours such as, white, yellow, green, purple…red. Now, they were coloured black, the colour of death.

As we sat in silence, the scent of dust, grime and possibly excrement filtered through the truck’s filtration system, spiking my headache from a mild throb to a consistent pounding on the left of my head.

“Holy shit…where the hell did you bring us, Tryz?” Rynord scoffed. “How the hell would I know. I just followed the smoothest section and made the best of it.” He answered.

“More like dropping us in a PILE OF SHIT. WHERE THE HELL DID YOU LAND US?” Stelig roared.

“How in the IMBIBE would I know?” Tryzer spat back.

“Keep your traps shut, the both of you.” Naedon hissed.

The Captain of the Cobra Squadron had been anal ever since Stelyne told him to divert to a settlement close by. A friendly settlement? I mused, oh how things have changed.

Two dozen decades ago, in my platoon days. It was unheard of, for settlements to be friendly with The Federation…or anyone for that matter. They did what suited them best, staying out of the hair of The Federation, Latrina Empire and the Doasa Nation.

“How interesting,” Colvolt said, pointing through the window. A flock of birds passed us flying low and zipping past us the Thrundrum, barely visible in this black sky.

“You can see? Without cybernetics?” Rynord asked, surprised.

“Of course, I have Night-Eyes,” Colvolt answered, tone sarcastic.

“Night-Eyes?” Stelig asked confusion painted onto his face.

“Eyes that allow him to see in the dark,” I answered.

“Huh?”

“It’s not that simple, but yes. My eyes allow me to see in the dark. I have surgically implanted nodes, grafted around my corneas, to heighten the light around my eyes, permanently.” Colvolt said.

“Wouldn’t you need to wear shades all the time?” Rynord asked.

“I have Day-Eyes as well.”

“Let me guess, surgically implanted nodes around your cornea, to dull light, permanently?” Stelig guessed.

“Wrong…the nodes are grafted along with my cornea in a way that would allow me to see during the day without the night-eye nodes hampering them.”

“That sounds unnecessary,” Tryzer said.

“Of course, it would, to you…but we live in different worlds, so it’s not meant for you to understand.”

“Never cared to. But it’s funny, you’re in my world now Mr Weitson, and my world is made up of bullets, blood and pain.”

“…and my world isn’t made up of that?” Colvolt said with a scoff, “…let me remind you. Mercenary. My credits pay for the equipment you use. My Credits make you who you are. you can be chippy with me all you want, but remember, you aren’t anything without my credits.”

“…And let me remind Colvolt, death comes to those who least expect it,” I said.

The industrial mogul slowly turned towards me, lips drawn to a line, then curled into a smile flashing his sparkling white teeth.

The smile looked genuine, but after his display regarding Elhisia, I pretty much surmised this was another act because when I took notice of his eyes, and how blank they were as he eyed me, I could tell…how evil this man truly was. It was looking into the eyes of Hortot Calisum once more.

“…is that a Threat?” Colvolt asked me. “Hardly,” I answered. “…a simple warning…we are in The Waste after all…where do you think I lost half my body? In a riot?”

A light chuckle pierced the momentary silence. Zanton, the bodyguard slapped his knee, looking at Colvolt, then turned away, mumbling something beneath his breath. If I knew any better, he just called his boss an ass wipe.

Colvolt smiled too, but not pleasantly. He eyed the bodyguard, then shook his head, not in disappointment but with disdain. Odd I said to myself, looking at Zanton. Is he really Colvolt’s bodyguard? It doesn’t seem that way to me…it’s like they’re archenemies. But why?

I let the thought of Zanton and Colvolt dissipate from my mind after a while, and concentrated on getting some rest.

A bout of motion sickness struck me, whilst the truck shook from left to right, as it paced through the craggy surface. Thankfully, I didn’t have anything to eat earlier or I would’ve heaved up my guts in its entirety. However, that lack of sustenance, drained me completely, making it hard for me to concentrate.

It’d been a while since I last drove through such a craggy surface. It made me yearn for the return of Bridge City’s very own potholes and water wells for gravel roads. Which, was heaven compared to this.

The Thundrum tilted back, then slowly began climbing a steep hill. Rocks and dead trees snapped beneath its tires as it reached the apex of the hill after a two-minute grind.

“You see that?” Stelig asked.

“Yeah,” Naedon said. “We’re coming up to the Sauter Settlement”

I looked out my window, catching a full view of the settlement in the background. It was what I expected. A Fortress, by scavenger standards.

The Sauter Settlement was surrounded by walls, probably made up of a mixture of scavenged metal and stone. I zoomed in, trying to get a better gauge of the height, but I was too far.

The wall had guard towers, at least four based on the lights beaming from outside, strafing across the surface looking for any intruders, which were probably us.

In the background, white and yellow lights flickered, giving it a glass-like gleam. I honestly couldn’t say I was impressed by the structure, but I rarely cared about anything that came from the Carib Waste.

“…about time we reach,” Tryzer said.

“About time? We’ve diverted from the mission!” Naedon snapped.

“…yeah, but we need rest Cap. We’ve been going at it for three hours strong. Hell, Cypher had two firefights, two of which he pulled our asses out of.” Rynord said.

“That’s not the point. We’ve been built for this.”

“I’m not saying we aren’t ready for a fight. But we need a plan. We need more information on where we’re headed and knowing Stelyne, she orchestrated this side trip, to allow us to gather ourselves.”

“Rynord is right sir,” Tryzer said, uncharacteristically calm. “We need a breather, but most importantly, we need a plan.”

“Ye boss, we need a plan. Is the transponder still moving?” Stelig asked. Naedon eyed his teammates with fury in his eyes, and finally quelled his frustration. He turned forward, tapping a sequence of buttons on the dashboard. “Yes…they’re still on the go.”

“They have to stop eventually,” Tryzer said. Let’s just take a minute here. We’re better rested.”

“Fine,” Naedon said gruffly. “Fine.”

Tryzer began a rolling start and I felt each dip the truck made over the surface. That was the motion for the next two minutes before a sequence of red and blue lights flickered to my right. “Did you all just see that?” I asked.

“See what?” Stelig asked.

“Morse code…I swore I saw lights flickering on to my right.”

A light beamed towards us, from the left, quickly smothering our vehicle in light. My cybernetic eye sent a stinging sensation to my nerves, which made my SMB clutch my brain, forcing water from my eye because of the sudden flash of illumination.

The light swerved off, then swerved in front of us.

“It seems you were right about the morse code Cypher,” Tryzer said. “Damn it…” I hissed.

“Yellow and Red light flickering in front of me,” Tryzer confirmed.

“Green and White to my left,” Stelig confirmed.

“Shit…Rynord, take the gunner seat and be ready.”

“Lethal?”

“Incendiary.”

“What’s happening?” Colvolt asked confused.

“We’re under attack Colvolt,” Zanton said. “We’re being hailed by the flickering lights. As we don’t know the colour coded response for the morse code, our trusted mercenaries, are looking to take action…understand?”

I looked to my right, engaging my night vision, and straining my SMB whilst hunting for the interchanging lights.

Magazines clipped into their slots, echoed throughout the back of the truck, with Zanton strolling over to Stelig. Mr Weitson sat in his seat, eyes goggling from us preparing ourselves for what was about to come.

Naedon jumped from his seat, fastening his flak-jacket and pulled one of the ammo bags to him, leaving the rest to Rynord, Stelig and I.

The gunner seat snapped open once more, and Rynord jumped in, ready as ever for another shoot, this time he could use live ammunition.

Stelig pulled a grenade launcher from the crate next to an ammo crate and began loading it. I checked the ammo bag, placing my preferred mags in place for a reload. Incendiary and Armor Piercing Rounds then unclipped my AR-BZ-459 onto my flak-jacket.

“Everyone ready?” Naedon asked

“READY!” Everyone barked.