Shrapnel screamed, and especially at me, it seemed, from the stinging pains that awoke all over my chest. I ducked and backed away quickly from the source, some sort of well-placed grenadier had been lobbing rounds over the high pitted and cratered walls of the fortress. I straightened up and looked at my position, standing near the local unoffical Yo's franchise merchant's shop. It wasn't promising in terms of cover, only a solitary pile of wooden boxes that looked barely capable of holding themselves up, much less resist a punch from a young runner. A young runner without hands or arms, at that. There clearly wasn't much cover to go to behind me to scuttle to if the invaders entered the fortress.

The sun burned even more hotly now that I moved away from the pyrotechnics burning near me. I raised my hand to my brows and started looking around again, this time for members of my team that come to defend the Fortress-class Outpost. My clan needed the income from ammunition sales and radar scanning access fees. The few bright white fluffs of clouds that survived in this desert stood in stark contrast to the grainy brown of the soil and walls in the fortress.

I saw that at least my team had placed some turrets near the massive walls of the bunker-like entrance. I tried to recognize their type, but best as I could guess, they were gatling cannon mounts. I cringed at the thought and noted their positions so I didn't inadvertently get into their line of fire. I didn't have a really high opinion of the turret A.I. programmed into them, and once they opened up fire, they were just as likely to shred the people they were supposed to add their firepower to as the people that the turrets' emplacer considered enemies. And gatling cannon turrets were typically considered the "smarter" among turrets.

I shouted into my communicator, currently set to my clan's broadcast channel, and asked for the current position of my team, and got a reply quickly. The voice hid behind some weak static, but I got "Last I heard, they were setting up near the main entrance after they just shot up a GenTank that tried to jump into a wall gunslot window, Heavyporker". I jumped up, looked around, and high-tailed myself over to the wall by the front entry. I considered it far from the best place to try one's hand at survival when large numbers of fighters were going to rush in close by, but it was where most of the team was. I hunkered down near a quite burly GenTank wearing blue-anodized powered armor, and slapped him on the back to let him know where I was. I considered it proper etiquitte to let GenTanks know where I was so they didn't get twitchy if they didn't see me, as GenTanks tend to react adversely at being suprised. He stood up and turned around to look at me, then grunted and turned back. I couldn't see his face in the thin glazed visor sitting in that foreboding dome of reinforced alloy, but I knew his mood well enough from the way he held his rust-streaked and pitted RayCannon edgily, waiting to kill something. Fuck! By Crahn, the idiot GenTank was actually anxious enough that he had set it to operate over the built-in safety limiter, making the muzzle of the weapon crackle with an aurora of purplish light. I hastily backed up and mentally made a note to not stand near him anymore. A steel-armored GenTank walked past me, heavy metallic boots clanking on the pavement, and muttering about needing a drink of premium synth-wine. But his sheer bulk wasn't enough to hide that his plasma-cannon was also rigged to overcharge the capacitors, greenish flames occasionally spurting out from the huge muzzle. I stepped away and prayed to Crahn to save me from the idiocy of GenTanks.

A placid-faced fellow Monk came up and Healed me. I groaned at the rush of relief, as pain was forgotten and tension eased, as tingles danced up my spine, but that didn't cover the disquieting feeling of invisible and intangible fingers easing splinters and shards out, squeezing my wounds closed, and pulling arteries and veins together. I relaxed even further, and noticed the my other teammates were looking less tense too, apparently the Monk was exuding a powerful aura of comfort and strength, adding to our morale. A spy from an alliance came up to the monk and asked for protection. A faint, almost transparent, yellowish bubble shimmered into being around the spy.

More rockets slammed close to us, shaking the wall we stood near. We got a report from one of our observers, who were standing far away from the outpost looking at the action, she said that the invaders had regrouped from the inital defenders' intense salvo of fire. I went up near the entrance, and looked out. The invaders were close enough that I could make out their faces, and they looked hungry, hungry for victory. I gauged their distance, and jumped up on the ramp to move towards them.

I exhaled and gathered my strength, then I bought down several concentrated streams of corrosive poison onto the Monk and GenTank in their group that was nearest me. They stumbled and scrambled away from me, out of my range. I could see that my poison was having a severe effect upon them from the way they were gasping and stumbling.

A wave of extreme fatigue washed over me. I felt so very tired, so very tired, and I felt my body sag as if it carried a great weight. I quivered then, and then I got the feeling of being soft, being made from gelatin and thin sticks. I gaped in horror at two Monks in the cluster of bushes siding the road that approached the outpost. They had cursed me! Frantically I backed away for cover, just as a rocket exploded above me, having struck the roof overhead. The sheer force of the explosion knocked me to knees, and I screamed at the hot wind buffetting me. I scrambled up to my feet, wracked with pain, but the sight of a particularly well-aimed rocket flying headlong towards me transfixed my attention.

Searing light then utter darkness enveloped me. Stinging pain woke me. My bleary vision showed a clear path and I stepped forward. I saw weather-worn walls enclose the device that had cradled me. Heavy footsteps make me look straight ahead, and I saw a huge shadow fall over me. Green flames eveloped me and darkness followed. I woke up again with the feeling that I lay in a cocoon of thorns, and this time the green flames flashed more quickly.

I woke up again with the sensation that my skin was sloughing away, and I fell to my knees, eyes clenched shut and my lips begging for an end to the pain. After a few moments passed and the pain lessened slightly, I opened my eyes and saw the reassuring walls of polished stone walls and floors of my apartment. Sniffling, I found my way to the bed and slumped into its regenerative field that activated at my approach. I moaned in relief as the field tickled my skin and energized my body. I looked around the apartment, seeing the glossy concrete walls reflecting the gloomy light that managed to struggle past the wan ocean of clouds in the sky. Over the communciator, the message "Outpost lost, Security protocols compromised, Losing core inerezzzzzz..." came. I hunched my head, holding the feeling that I had let my team down and lost my clan their only outpost.

I glanced at the plastic bag atop a cabinet by the bed, containg a few vials that held several pills of Destrosol Forte that I had managed to get out of the pockets of a dead bum that had lain in a side alley in Pepper Park. One of the vials had fallen out of the bag, its loose cap off, and green pills dotting the surface of the cabinet.

I sighed.