**Recap:** Quim and the others made it to a service hatch which led to an abandoned warehouse of some sort. Their journey in the sewers had been eventful and each member of their team was happy to see the last of it. 

![](https://images.ecency.com/DQmb4RW9aESZQ8DXBm5c6MWPQZbTHfxC4jk7h7FCaAQT1US/mki9rdh0tki3wl3fytbq_1_tjo2c.jpg)
[Source](https://creator.nightcafe.studio/creation/MKI9RDh0tki3WL3fYtBQ)

*If it was easy to accomplish tasks, everyone would be successful* Quim thought as he looked out into the derelict warehouse. Mold, rot, and mess of all calibers covered the area. The stench was pungent, and it was an uncomfortable place, to say the least. 

He sent the others to scope the place out for anything of use. Not that he thought any of the junk that filled the place was worth using. The bombings had wrecked the interior worse than the apparent years of disuse had. Holes in the ceiling had been letting the rain in for years by the look of it. *This whole city isn't worth occupying.*

"What's the plan?" Lags had asked him. But, Quim had no idea how to respond. Their target was clear, but the course was a mystery. To get to the mountain range they would need transport, so long as it wasn't a Confederation ship. Walking the streets and back alleys, which were most likely crawling with Trisken soldiers, was the other option. Some of the others were rearing to get some fighting done. Their comments made that clear. Hatred filled the hearts of the combined squad, some of the newcomers most definitely wanted revenge. But, the withered husks were hardly fighting fit. Weeks in an abandoned sewer system would do that. They weren't exactly frail, they were however pale and malnourished. Waifs, skeletal figures shuffling in the shadows, barely the strength to wield a weapon. The newcomers would do though. With the losses Quim's squad sustained, reinforcements were a gift. Anadi had taken to the role of squad leader well, even if he was more than a little bit crazy. The mumbling musings would turn most people off, but, at least his team seemed to know him and like him well enough to follow his commands. 

"There's more to being a leader than being likable." Oheara had told Quim a long time ago. It was one of the first times the man let his guard down and spoke to him like a human being. Before that, Quim was somewhat of a whipping boy to Oheara and his squad. A feeling of regret filled Quim. Regret for taking this assignment, regret for putting the lives of himself, his squad, and the Raws in danger. Regret for Tera. His life at one point was easy. There was a time when all he needed was one person and nothing else mattered more than that. Gone. All of it. 

He was taken from his memories by the sound of hissing radio static. It had been so long since he had heard it, that he had nearly forgotten the sound. Familiar, but alien at the same time. Quickly Lags ran from behind some crates, straight to Quim. As he came closer the hissing sound became louder. "Got something. It's a transmission, but, the signal seems weaker than I'd like it to be." Lags said while he took the radio off his back and knelt down to mess with the dials. Garbled voices filled the airwaves and as he trained his ear to the sound some of the others stopped their search and came over to listen.

"Repeating message: This is for any Confederation soldiers stranded here on Trisk carrying out the occupation." The voice became clear enough to hear and some of the others looked at each other while listening. "Failed occupation." Triple scoffed. *It wasn't successful, by any stretch of the word. It was at the very least a work in progress.* Quim thought, not wanting to reply, for fear of interrupting the transmission. "Sounds human," Triple said. But, this time he was shushed by Bird.

"This is Sargent Fin Panes. Of the third battalion. I'm a first-wave survivor. We're currently en route to a substation near the centre of the city. We believe that they're blocking all outgoing and incoming transmissions from there. Without communication, none of us can organise, there are enough of us on this planet to at the very least stir up trouble. What's left of my team will take it down if we can." Lags shrugged. "Can't argue with that logic. But, it's not a great idea to announce their intentions."

"Most of my team have been captured or killed, what was left were camped out in a tunnel network beneath the surface of the planet, for days. There were twenty-three of us down there, when we returned to the surface, there were only seven of us left. There's something down there. It's intelligent and picked off my team in three separate attacks. We couldn't do anything to stop it. If anyone can hear this, get out of the catacombs. Repeating message:" A cold streak ran through Quim as the message ended and started to repeat. He slowly turned to the door they came through, where the service hatch was that they used to leave the sewer system. 

"Who was the last one up?" He asked, with an ounce of uncertainty in his voice. The others were dumbstruck. "Me." One of the Raws replied. As they did, Quim could hear a creaking and ticking noise coming from the direction of the door. "Did you close the hatch?" Quim asked without turning from the doorway. "Well, no. I thought we might need to make a quick escape." The Raw sniveled. 

Quim readied his rifle, fixing his sights on the door. He could hear the others do the same. Stepping forward slowly, everyone else shuffled, following suit. Meters from the doorway he stopped. He could see into the room and looked at the open hatch. "Spread out. All sights, fixed on the door. Get in there and close it." He said as some of the others fanned out and took up positions on either side of him, forming a semi-circle. He could see the Raw out of the corner of his eye. He was afraid and shook his head in response. "No. No, I'm not going in there. Every "Raw" that you've sent to do something gets killed!" The man whined. 

"That's an order." To that, the man nearly started to cry. "I'll do it." Doc Freeman said as he stepped forward slowly. Doc Freeman walked through the doorway, looking down the hatch. He held his shotgun with one hand while grabbing the handle of the metal cover. Using all the strength he could muster he wrenched it up and let go. The slam of the hatch rang out and echoed through the warehouse. "See, it wasn't so hard." He said in a jovial yet, irritated tone. Then Quim let out a breath of air. 

Drips could be heard. He watched as they landed around the Doc. "Must be raining." He said while rubbing some of the liquid from his head. 

After looking up and he froze to the spot. Diving forward, he aimed his shotgun above him and fired as a large dark figure descended on him from the ceiling. It swiped at him, ferociously. But, he was able to fire another shot at it. It landed, and the creature was hardly fazed. The appendages were long and scrawny. Its slick skin reflected the light. There was no face to speak of, it was just a thing. 

"Get down Doc!" Quim shouted. He dived on his back, through the doorway toward the others. Scrambling away from it while, Letting off another round, which seemed to hit the thing in the gut. Everyone opened fire at it, Quim hoped to spook it. It had the opposite effect, however. Instead, it seemed to make the thing angrier. Leaping forward, it caught Doc by the foot with its teeth and dragged him back into the room. He screamed as it clamped onto him and he let off another shot. Which did nothing. The shooting persisted, and the creature resisted all damage. It was fast, but, with Doc in its mouth, it was slow and lumbering. 

Doc was halfway through the door and he fired again. This time, the thing dropped him, fleeing back into the room. Doc quickly got to one knee and slammed the door shut, just in time for the creature to dive at him once more, the steel door closed. It didn't seem to close all the way, however. "Help!" Doc shouted, still holding onto the handle. The others did. Then it became apparent why it wasn't closing. The creature had an arm caught in it. Its three fingers jittered as it tried to claw its way through the door. Quim fired at the hand, and some of the bullets ricochet off the steel. Soon the hand shook and disappeared back inside. The door closed and they secured it. Howls could be heard coming from inside and the steel hammered. 

They were safe, for now. "Block the door," Quim said and the others responded to the command. Quim helped Doc Freeman to his feet. "Good work." He said through breathless lungs. But, the Doc just screamed in agony. A bone-curdling scream, shocked Quim enough to almost drop the man.

It was then he could see. The creature didn't drop Doc Freeman. Instead, he blasted his lower leg off with his final shot. The floor was sticky from the visceral mess he had made of himself. On top of missing a leg, Doc Freeman had sustained many other wounds and gashes from the attack. "Doc. I'm sorry." Quim was lost for words and he looked at the others, who were too busy to notice. 

"Help. He's hurt, badly. Help me prop him up against the wall." Quim said through a shaky throat. Some of the others came to his aid and soon the Doc was sat up. Huffing as he slumped. "Bastard. Fuckin' bastard thing. I had no choice, the only way I could get that thing to drop me was." He stopped, and the man struggled to get the rest of his words out. "We'll fix this. We'll treat your wounds. We'll." Quim spoke fast. Faster than he could think. But, Doc Freeman waved a hand to shut him up. While taking in a few deep breaths.

"Dert Bird. Look." Triple said. "What is it?" Quim roared back at him. "The Raw." Triple stared behind him. Turning around, he saw a man pegged with bullet holes in a puddle of his own mess. He was trying to speak, but, all that would come out were clicks of his tongue, which was flopping around his mouth. Quim walked and stood over the man, there was just enough time for him to stare into Quims eyes. One single look of fear until he watched the life fade in his vacant stare. *The bullets which ricochet from the door. They found a mark.* He shook his head, as he walked back to Doc Freeman. "What can we do? How do we fix this?" 

"I don't know, Quim. I just don't know. How bad is it? Because I'm starting to feel pretty bad." He said, with a faint smirk. He looked down at Doc Freeman and shook his head. "It's. I don't. You've seen better days, Doc." He said in a defeated tone, which only seemed to make Doc Freeman smile. A toothy smile, but, every tooth was red, stained with his own blood.