Jan looked me in the eyes, and that was all the need I got. I whispered to myself, "Go!" And tha was it. There were four of us; me, Jan, Donwald, and Ferguson. Me and Jan led, and I guess it was irony that we were the only two what didn't get shot. Daonwald took one in the eye right after he got in. It was about then that I started shooting Purplebellies. When Ferguson came in, he took one to the shoulder. Spun him about, and he landed on his ass. Still, he laid down some cover for me and Jan as we moved into some more substantial cover than air. There were at least three Alliance folk in the room; I took one with a cluster shot to his gut. He fell none to graceful-like across a table he'd been usin' as cover. Jan dived away, and we were on different sides of the room. Ferguson was crawling up the middle, his pistol out and taking some poor bastard with a dime-cluster to his chin. So it was now one on three. Prick had a shotgun, but he was too far back for it to be of much use. That's what I don't understand about Alliance folk, they put the one guy who could, concievably, take out an entire squad in a few shots in the back of a long, narrow room, where he is least efffective! Still guess I should be thankin' 'em for givin' their recruits none too much in battle- schoolin'. "All clear!" That was Jan. He liked that aspect of the job; the shoutin'. I nodded, then moved forward. Jan went behind me to cover incase someone decided to shoot me in the face or somesuch. Both our rifles were leveled and steady. We've been too much of the same shit to be scared that much by now. You get scared afterwards. That was fine with me. I was probably going to be crying myself to sleep tonight, what-with losing Donwald. We moved to the door. I peeked my head in. Seeing as no one shot me, I assumed that it was clear, for now. "Clear!! MEDIC!!!!!!" The call reverberated both ways down the hallways that we were fighting in. A few seconds later, I heard a faint call from a few dozen yards away. "Roger!" It was so quiet that I almost hadn't heard it. I looked over at Ferguson; he seemed fine, if only a little pale. Still, blood loss will do that to a body, I figured. I bent down, and appraised the shotgun in the dead guys hands. It was a peice, it was. I picked it up, and gave it the once over. Eight shots in, it looked. And, what luck, the guy had a bag full of the shots hooked onto his belt. I couldn't be bothered to count, but it seemed to be at least enough for a good four or so full reloads. That could be helpful. I pumped a round into the chamber, and there is not a more reassuring sound in all of Creation. Sure enough, a medic came through the opened door, flanked by two soldiers. Not even PFC's, by their uniforms. You don't get no Duster until you prove yourself. Donwald had had a duster. I suddenly had the urge to shoot somebody in the face with this bigass shotgun; preferably someone Alliance looking. I recognized the medic; I think his name was MacDonalbain or someat. I honostley couldn't care at the mo', though. Medics are great an' all, but they ain't the ones usually gettin' shot. Mostly, mind. Well, MacWhatshisface patched up Ferguson, but he was still shakin' his head by the end of it. "No good; he needs some new blood in 'im. Lost too much, he has." "Mother cunt fuck," said Jan. "Constructive. Alright, I'm guessin' that you need help carryin' him about?" "Me an' someone else. You," he said, pointing to the burlier of the two conscripts. The recruit nodded, and picked up Ferguson by his shoulders; Doc got him by the legs. They headed off, and Jan was nominally in charge. Even before Doc was out, he was movin' forward. "Alright, folks; even undermanned, we gots a job ta do." I nodded, and backed him up, the shotgun in front. Both of us had had the prescence of mind to grab a weapon from the downed Alliance; Jan had a shiny new rifle; both of us had our standard issues slung over our shulders, safeties on. One thing 'bout the Alliance no one can dispute, they made sure that their tropps had at least fair to goodly rifles and such on 'em. The Kid fell in line behind us. And so, there we were, three guys goin' in a straight line down a hallway that is prolly infested with bloody Purplebellies. I suppresed a sigh, and kept on following Jan. We came upon another room. Fucking bunker must have fifty of these bastards stashed away, just to make my life a fucking deathtrap. Jan held up a fist, and both me and the Kid stopped. He turned slightly; he was smiling. I shool my new shotgun meaningfully at him. He frowned slightly, but nodded anways. I took my place in the lead, so that Jan and the Kid were behind me. I went in... Life seems to slow, or even stop when you head into a breach. That open maw that beckons you in and won't let go. There were at least a dozen Alliance in there, but maybe half appeared to be armed. Again, time seemed to be busy catching up with me. I felt Jan push past me, going right as I went left. The Allaince all turned to me. They seemed more surprised than anything. One shouted at me through the haze, but I couldn't hear him. Or, I didn't want to. The one nearest to me, maybe only three, four feet away, tried to draw his pistol. Time seemed to catch up to me when I shot him in the face. Point Blank. Somebody screamed; sounded like a woman. Seein' somebody lose their entire head in a spray of blood and gore in a shotgn blast has that effect on civilians. Then, if anything, time seemed to speed up. Jan sprayed two Purplebellies when they trained their rifles on me. Both went down, screaming, dropping their weapons. Two more came at me, drawing their pistols. Made it so much easier. My first shot caught the lead one in the gut; he went down. He was in too much pain to scream. The second hesitated, and that was all I needed. I cross-checked him with the butt of the shotgun, knocking the wind out of him while also knocking him to the ground. He coughed, and tried to brieng his pistol to bear. I say tried. I shot him in the face with the shotgun less than six inches away. He doesn't have a head anymore. I had to fight down the urge to vomit, although I still think that I was paler when I looeked back at the other Alliance folk. With three of their own dead and two injured, they had given up on fighting. Jan had both of his rifles out, to give him that much more fire should anyone try anything funny. He had someones pistol under his foot. Just for good measure, I had my shotgun on them as well. Except for maybe one other, the other half dozen were civilians. Scientist types, by their look. Without turning, I said to the kid, "Nice cover fire." He didn't reply. When I chanced a look over, he was on his knees, looking at the first guy I had corpsed. "Oh, shit." I shouldered the shotgun, taking out my riflle to train on the people. I backed up, never turning away from our prisoners. When I reached him, I placed a hand on his shoulder, all comforting like. "Hey, Kid. What's your name?" I had to shake him to get an answer, but he did tell me, "Makinh. Jay Makinh." "That's a good name; strong name. Hey, Jay, you mind going over to H.Q.? Tell 'em that we got prisoners in Section 7-C?" He nodded. Poor bastard. I think that I was worse when I saw my first dead body. Oh, Christ, the Kid can't be even older than Sixteen. I turned back to Jan as Makinh left. He nodded, and we took opposing side from the prisoners. They were all in a little bundle, which made our job that much easier. The dead did not move.