"AAAHH! Fuckin Shit Christ!" I screamed by way of a battle-cry as I charged into the horde of grinning masochists. My aim was uncannily sloppy today. I had sat on the hill outside Suwannah'de all morning with Hundilleh, my one man support team, staring through a set of regulation binoculars, waiting for some sort of hierarchy to resolve. I was sent here as a recon man (or, as punishment, as I had decided,) told to pick up some information on the compound.

As evening had descended, Hundilleh and I had decided that there was no commander-in-charge here. After much lengthy debate (which mostly consisted of him whining about calling for backup, and me calling him a pussy-lipped cock smoker) he agreed to call in the cavalry, and wait out the night while I went in and saw if I could uncover any intelligence on what the fuck was going on in there. I suited up in some tattered rags given to us for emergencies, looked myself over, and decided it would have to be good enough. I strapped my Pincer 57 to my thigh and began the hike into town.

Now, I should inform you that I was literally born to, and raised in service. My guardian was a servant to the Commonwealth, kind of a lone gunman, who while not babysitting yours truly, went to do various crap that I never got to hear about. I resent the Commonwealth for producing me into such a shitty environment, and for giving me no freedom except to kick the shit out of whoever the enemy was today. Which, admittedly, I am quite good at.

I was judged at ten, and passed off to the Jury of Duty as unfit for command roles. Yeah, I was the kid who always ran with scissors, and didn't play well with others. The Jury decided I was to be a Black Knight, which meant twelve years of higher training, but meant I was to have some limited autotonomy, at least. I was trained in all methods of killing, black arts, and piloting. At the age of twenty-two, I went off to my assignment -- corps 216, contingent 887, and promptly outlived them all in battle with the Clack Sovereignty. Thus it was, at the age of twenty four, I was given my own little doughboy, Hundilleh, and pronounced Black Knight Class A. I report to Lt. Cmdr. Fuckstick, as little as possible.

So anyway, I was descending the hill, Crap for brains furiously pounding away at the control board for the comm suite in the Vector G behind me. As I neared the compound, I was finally noticed, and a couple of militants dressed in purple jumpsuits began to meander toward me. As they made their final approach, I decided that my usual 'rain hellfire, ask questions later' routine was unlikely to work in this situation. I put up my arms in a friendly gesture, and they strted babbling incoherently.

Now, as part of my training, I was required to take a whole suite of communication theory classes. I wasn't very good at it, and my third rate implant didn't really help, but I still could discern a basic language pretty goddamned quick. And this was no language. I couldn't even attempt to make the sounds they were making. It was like fucking chirping.

So here I am, being accosted by three bored shiteaters in purple goddamned jumpsuits, speaking -- nay beeping, and I realize that I am truly fucked.

They mechanically grabbed me and dragged me towards the center of the facility, completely stopping every once in a while, standing up straight, and rolling their eyes back. This was getting a bit too weird for me, and I didn't see the conditions getting any better, so I searched my mental map of the place for any easy escape route. I concluded that the only way out was the way I had come in. I didn't like these odds, because I didn't want to climb that piece of shit hill, and this would only make my fufture work here harder. But I really didn't feel like being executed, so I made a break for it.

I yanked my right arm right out of asshole three's hands. This was much easier than it should have been, but I wasn't about to question him and find out what the fuck he was thinking about. I pushed asshole two away, and kicked asshole prime in the gut, hard. He doubled over, but the other two were coming back at me. This was about the time I noticed that theyir eyes weren't focusing on me. Fuck, things were not getting better.

I made a break for it, and started careening for the entrance, about 200 meters away. All of a sudden, every goddamned shitface within a hundred and fifty meters of my stands up, literally dropping what they were doing. Ten meters pass, three footsteps. All of a sudden they all start running towards me. I didn't see a single weapon get pulled. This worried me immensely. I mean, what the fuck? But I keep on running. another thirty meters, and now I've got eighty or ninety people running towards me. Luckily, they were all behind me, and couldn't cut me off. Unluckily, They were gaining, and I saw a group of ten people coming up a hundred meters away. All of a sudden, I made a seventy degree turn to my left, where I hadn't seen anyone. Time for a little cat and mouse, I thought.

I ducked into the compound's market place, or whatever the fuck it was, and ducked behind a stall. Pulled my Pincer out, and turned it on. The gyros spinning up in my hand, I started running again. I had lost fifteen metersof the race, and only had another ten before they caught me. "Fuck, shit, fuck, shit," I'm screaming as I ran. The only reason I knew I was is because I heard the echos off the walls. All of a sudden, My feet stop moving. Asshole two tackled me, and my face flew straight at the ground at several meters per second. I rolled over, nose bleeding, a shot him between those eyeballs, which were incidentally still unfocused. Was this the goddamned home for rejects? What the hell was going on here? He rolled over, enough for me to get back up, and I started running for all I was worth. Initiated a connection back to the Vector, and posted a message on it to get the fuck down that hill and be ready for a goddamned quick escape. Hundilleh was probably in there shitting himself.

I glanced back behind me, and the noise from the Pincer, not to mention the exploded skull of the corpse, seemed to slow them down some. I had regained my lead, and then some. Looked forward again, bad news. The entrance had a fucking field up. This was anything but good. I pried my sensors for some info on it, trying to discern whether I could push through it, or whether I was doomed. No ping came back. Fuck. Well, The doomed option I didn't really care for, so I decided to power through the field, burns be damned.

I pushed with all my might those last few steps up to the field, hit it... and bounced off, flesh searing, straight at the ground. You can imagine the headache I had now.

I made my arms locked, climbed slowly back to my feet. The idiot brigade had slowed to a walk, still staring, but eerily silent. I pointed my gun at the nearest, set it to spray, and charged the crowd.