“Bunker three, before I can promise anything, I need some ID on your team.”

Summers listened to the voice on the radio intently as Nowak responded.

“Oscar Zulu three, I need a second to get that to you.” Nowak motioned to Pat. “Get me the green box in the corner, now.” He must have noticed Summers’ questioning look because he continued. “They’re Rhodes’ papers, had a list of challenges. We were a part of his platoon. That’s our story until the army tells us otherwise.”

“You sure you want to be lying to Command?” Summers wasn’t looking forward to adding what was probably a felony to whatever else the army was going to hit them with.

“We can explain later, for now, lying’s easier, safer, and probably our only chance here. I don’t know how many of those things out there were soldiers, and I don’t know how paranoid they are, but whoever’s in command is not going to waste resources on a bunch of nobodies like us.”

“Solving todays problems with tomorrows court marshals, loving the idea, Sarge.” Cortez remarked.

“If they think we’re trying to pull one over on them, who’s to say they won’t just hit us with a missile or something?”

Cortez scoffed. “There’s no way they have a fucking missile.”

“We saw a tank.” Nowak replied flatly. “If I know the army, and I do, they’ll be bringing in as many big boy toys as they can. And I do not want to give anyone an excuse.”

“Well whatever we’re going to do, we should hurry it up.” Cortez poked her head out the slitted window in the concrete. “Those things are still just standing around, don’t expect that’s going to last.”

“I get it.”

Pat returned with the green box a moment later. Summers turned to the others as Nowak started to read off a list of challenges.

Asle was huddled in a small, dug out room below the bunker along with Synel. Probably one used for storage. They weren’t comfortable, but Summers hoped they’d have some degree of protection from the fighting.

He moved to the large metal hatch that would close the hole off from the rest of the bunker. They’d briefly considered closing the two inside for their safety but decided against it. The thing was two inches of solid steel, and Summers was fairly sure he was the only one that could lift it alone.

“You two doing okay?”

Asle nodded as Synel gave him a small smile back. They both looked tired. Asle was trying to keep a brave face but they’d been riding hard for the last few days, and a child’s body was not meant to be put through the kind of abuse they’d experienced.

“Everything’s going to be all right, we’ll get this handled and get you to somewhere safe.”

“Oh, worry about yourself, we can handle our own business.” Synel responded. “Besides, this is hardly the worst place I’ve been in.”

“…Seriously?”

“Gods no. When we get out, remind me to tell you about the great winter.”

Asle smiled up at him, gripping the small pistol in her hand a little tighter.

Summers could only smile back.

“…Sure…”

Looking around, he saw Cortez along and Orvar watching the growing crowd. Nobody had made a move yet, but they were definitely working their way there.

Nowak was arguing with the radio now, with Pat thumbing through the files he’d brought. That just left the twins. Bard sat beside Viggo, muttering something.

“…To the embrace of our mothers, our fathers, our sisters, and our brothers. Back, to the beginning…” Bard spoke in a low, reverent tone.

“And into the memories of the ones we leave behind…” Viggo finished.

The two suddenly realized Summers was watching, bowing their heads in response.

“Apologies, Commander.”

Summers raised a hand, waving away the remark.

“No, sorry. It’s fine.” Summers noticed the white knuckled grip they had on their weapons. Once again, they were wearing typical looks of indifference, even if their anxiety was obvious. “Was that a prayer? …Didn’t peg you two as the religious type.”

“…We are not.” Bard replied. “Not normally.”

“Well, we’re not exactly doing normal shit out here.”

“…No, we aren’t.” Bard looked back to his brother. “We will not disappoint you, commander. This we vow.”

That caught Summers off guard.

“…Guys, you don’t have anything to worry about. Just following us this far is more than I could ask.”

“…Commander, we were farmers before this.” Bard gestured to the hundreds of men and women below. “…Poor farmers.”

“I had animals.” Viggo volunteered.

“He had one.” Bard corrected. “A small one.”

“…Would have gotten bigger.”

“Okay…” Summers started. “Look, from here on out I’m not your ‘commander’. That was something Rhodes’ set up and if I’m gonna be honest, I’m not really ‘officer’ material. We fight together. That’s the way this works, the way it’s supposed to work, anyway. You get my back, I’ll get yours. Nothing that happens outside of that matters. Understand?”

The two hesitated for a moment, not knowing how to respond.

“…That’s an order?” Summers ventured.

“Yes, Commander.” The twins responded in unison.

“Uh, good. And don’t worry, you’re not just farmers.” Summers patted the weapon at his side. “You’re farmers with guns, and just enough brains to use them. That’s a scary fucking thing where I’m from.”

Summers heard something from the side of the bunker and saw Cortez readying her gun.

“There’s a couple hundred out there now, Sarge.” Cortez called over. “And from the sounds of it that big bastards headed this way too.”

The twins made way for Summers as he moved to the front of the bunker.

Through the window slit, Summers caught sight of the thin man, his tar black skin standing out against the light scattering of brush at the bottom of the hill.

Summers felt something bump into his back and immediately went on alert, until he realized it was Bard. Quite literally pressing his back into Summers’ own.

“Bard, I didn’t mean-“ Summers stopped as something occurred to him.

Both times he’d been attacked by the thin man, he’d created a portal behind them. And that portal went both ways. Meaning that as long as he had someone watching the inside of the bunker, they could fire outside reasonably safely.

Considering the twins were their worst shots by a wide margin, that was an excellent use of their talents.

“Scratch that, you’re a goddamn genius. Keep doing what you’re doing. You see something odd in here, you shoot it, understand?”

Bard nodded as his brother took up a post beside him.

Then, Summers saw some of the men outside walking forward.

“Shit. Sarge, if we’re going to do something it should be sooner than later. I’m starting to see movement.”

“I get it!” Nowak shouted, keying the mic. “Oscar Zulu Three, can you assist or not?”

“Negative Bunker three.” The woman responded. “We’re en route, but our ETA is three hours at the least. Can you hold?”

“Guys?” Nowak looked at them questioningly.

“Maybe if they were people. But these things don’t seem to mind dying too much.”

“Sarge!” Cortez shouted.

“Shit. Negative!” Nowak replied into the radio, sounding a little more frantic than before. “Is there anything else –“

Before Nowak could finish, the fire of Cortez’ rifle cut him off.

“Get down!“

Summers hit the ground along with everyone else just as the bunker exploded.

“Everyone good?” Nowak called out.

Summers coughed as the smoke began to clear and his ears stopped ringing.

“What the fuck was that?” Summers looked to Cortez.

“Grenade. They have guns, didn’t see them until they were on us.” Cortez poked her head over the window, ducking down a moment later. A stream of gunfire slammed into the concrete in the next instant.

“Fucking great.” Summers looked around.

Nobody looked to be hurt. But that wasn’t going to last if they managed to get a shot inside the bunker.

“Pat, Orvar, do what you can to suppress that group on the left!” Nowak shouted as he sprayed down the area in front of the window.

Summers got his head up long enough to see nearly two dozen men charging up the mountain. He fired into the closest man. The man dropped, only to get right back up a moment later. In the back, he saw a soldier, rifle leveled on him. Summers managed to duck behind cover just before a shot slammed into the concrete beside him.

There were six men with guns at the bottom of the hill, weapons trained right on his position. He winced as flecks of concrete rained down from the constant barrage.

“Oscar Zulu Three can you hear me?!” Nowak was keying the radio but there wasn’t any response. Summers could only assume the explosion had knocked off the antenna.

“Where’s the handheld?!” Summers yelled over the gunfire. “That might be in range!”

“Outside!” Pat answered.

“…Fucking great.”

Summers took a deep breath before noticing the duffel bag shoved into a corner beside Asle. The gunfire hadn’t stopped since he’d taken cover, and he was fairly sure it wouldn’t until the bulk of the group had overrun them.

“Asle, throw that bag over here!”

Asle covered her ears, crawling to the bag and sliding it his way. Summers winced as the grenades inside rattled.

He’d had sincere nightmares about this bag, but it was about to save their lives.

He unzipped the top to find the long string of grenades Cortez had altered. She’d removed their pins, replacing it with a thin layer of tape over the levers. All of that could be severed with a single length of wire that ran through them. It was one big, makeshift bomb. But that was for the big guy, and right now they had to worry about the others.

Summers pulled out a grenade at the end, tore the tape, and launched it out of the window with surprising force. He’d aimed for the bottom of the hill, somewhere that was decidedly out of grenade range, but he’d been banking of the fact logic no longer applied to his strengthened body.

Boom.

The distant, satisfying explosion preceded a break in the gunfire. Summers didn’t hesitate, he popped up to find one of the shooters on the ground, and the other two stunned. He fired once, twice, then emptied his weapon into the approaching horde running up the hill.

“We got –“

Cortez was cut off as a man rushed into the bunker’s entrance from the opposite side. Just as he cleared the doorway Orvar swung his weapon like a club, taking the man off his feet. Cortez made sure he stayed down with a quick burst from her rifle.

Summers readied another grenade as a cluster of men emerged from behind a rock, one with a grenadiers’ rifle, the under-barrel attachment in a distinct firing position.

Summers threw the grenade with enough force that he didn’t see an arc. It shot straight into a man beside who he’d been aiming for and shattered, then exploded.

The blast took most of the group out of commission. He was readying another grenade when he felt something kick him from behind. Bard fell into his back just as he fired his weapon. Summers turned, expecting another intruder, only to see the man firing directly into the back wall.

“What –“ Summers stopped as he noticed the wall was gone. In its place was an extremely surprised thin man, still standing at the bottom of the hill, the floor of their bunker gradually giving way to grass. Impossibly, behind the man Summers could still see the bunker they were in.

It was at that point he remembered he was holding a live grenade.

“Oh, fuck!” Summers hurled the grenade at the thin man, he stumbled at the impact, and the portal collapsed. The wall of the bunker reappeared once again. Chunks of square, cut concrete clattering to the ground in its wake.

Summers stared wide eyed at the sight. If the thin man had tried the same trick he’d done before, Summers might have blown them all to hell.

“Uh, good job.” He clapped Bard on the back.

Just as Summers finished a distant roar sounded, then, suddenly it was closer. Much closer. He turned to see the face of the dragon nearly a hundred feet from the bunker, charging at them through a portal being held open by a very pissed off looking thin man.

“Oh…”

Summers grabbed Bard and pushed him towards the center of the bunker.

“We need to get out of here, now!” Summers raised his rifle, firing at yet another man in the doorway. The creature’s footsteps were shaking the ground with every step, Summers was not optimistic about the bunker’s chances of stopping something like that.

“I don’t think that’s happening!” Nowak answered as gunfire peppered the entrance.

Summers scrabbled for an idea before he remembered the room below them.

“Down, through the hatch, go!” Summers fired a continuous burst towards the groups of enemies still climbing the hill, hoping to give the others enough time to retreat.

It took only a moment’s hesitation before they began to move, Summers could see the dragon still charging, seconds away.

“Summers!” Nowak shouted.

Summers saw that the others had made it to the hatch, he turned on heel to follow just as something caught his leg. He heard something tear.

Summers turned to see the bag that had been at his side partially open, the activation wire tangled around his boot. The metallic tinkling of the levers hitting concrete let him know that a few of those grenades had come loose, and they were now live.

Summers really, truly hated that bag with every fiber of his being.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Summers grabbed the bag and heaved it out the window with everything he had, straight into the path of the dragon. He felt the rest of the tape tear loose as the grenades spilled out, not nearly far enough for his tastes.

Summers moved as fast as he could. He saw the surprised looks on his friends faces as he slammed the hatch shut on them, just before an explosion of light, sound, and concrete overtook him.

Summers awoke to find himself sprawled on the ground, looking at the half-collapsed ceiling of their former bunker.

He saw the head of the monstrous “dragon” laying in front of him. He tried to get to his feet before the pain stopped him.

Then he realized it wasn’t moving.

Summers stopped struggling as he noticed the substantial crater in its neck. Large enough for Summers to see its spine. Its head was leaking some kind of liquid as well, probably something that was supposed to be inside.

He’d never gotten a good look at the creature when he’d first seen it, but up close, it looked to be falling apart. Even discounting the damage he’d done to it. Pieces of flesh sluffed off the bone of its torn wings. The skin looked rotted, like it had been dead for weeks.

Summers didn’t linger on that long though. The important part was that it wasn’t moving. Which was good because Summers was fairly sure he’d broken something.

He tried again to get to his feet only to feel a strange resistance from his back. He looked down and see the large piece of rebar sticking out from his chest. His first instinct was to ask for help.

But as he looked over to the hatch, he found it had been buried underneath a small pile of rubble.

“…Shit.”

After a moment of psyching himself up, Summers pulled the piece of metal from his chest with one fluid motion, gritting his teeth with the effort. Blood flowed freely from the wound, something that he was sure he’d have to handle very quickly. For now, he limped over to the hatch, a dull thumping growing louder as he approached. He understood immediately the others were trying to get out.

Then the hatch disappeared, and Summers found the bloody, partially burned form of the thin man in front of him. He only had a moment to react before the man’s hand snaked out towards his neck, grabbing him before he could stumble away.

“That’s enough for now.” The thin man looked at Summers, a soft smile on his face. “I have to say, you are by far one of the most interesting individuals I’ve come across here.”

Summers struggled to break the man’s grip only to realize that he was as strong as Summers. Given the monster they’d just killed, that shouldn’t have been a surprise.

“…Fuck you…”

“Original.” The thin man effortlessly threw Summers into the dragon’s corpse. He felt something snap on impact, from the pain in his side he wasn’t sure if it was the dragon, or him.

Summers looked up in time to see the thin man walking forward, more of the beast-like men and women pouring in from the outside. More than a few had rifles trained on him as they entered.

This was not looking good.

Summers watched as the thin man appraised him. He was covered in the black shifting, tar-like substance Summers recognized from the hamr he’d fought in the city. Though oddly, it wasn’t covering him completely, there were still patches of skin around his neck and arms. Summers could see his very human ears, as well as a few tattoos that looked more appropriate on a grunt than whatever he was.

“What the hell are you?”

“We are a harbinger.” The thin man explained. “Now then...”

The thin man raised a hand towards Summers, then paused.

“Something’s wrong… Your mind should be...”

Summers grunted in pain, he could feel parts of his body shifting at the man’s gesture, more like a muscle spasm than anything. But by the confusion on his face, that wasn’t what he was trying to do.

“What’s the matter with you?” The man leaned forward, looking at Summers intensely before putting a hand on his forehead. “What have you done to your head?”

“…This.” Summers reached back and gripped the exposed spine of the dragon. In retrospect, announcing he was about to make a move may have been a mistake. Just as the dragon’s tail swept through the cracked concrete, two bullets slammed into its body, inches from Summers’ position. He allowed the momentum to carry him around as he forced the creature to use its entire body as a blunt instrument, sending everyone in the room but himself into wall opposite.

There were a series of crunching noises as the dragon came to a stop. Summers concentrated, forcing the creature to back off.

The room had been painted various shades of red in its wake. A group of men had somehow survived the worst of what happened, their mangled arms and legs struggling to move to the weapons that had been thrown to the far corner. Summers allowed the creature to tilt to its side and crushed them.

He took a breath as he slumped off the creature, utterly spent. Summers wasn’t sure how the skeen’s power worked, but after moving something that big, he felt as if he’d run a marathon. Considering they more or less had done that as well… Summers didn’t have much left in him.

“That… was interesting.”

Summers groaned as he looked up to find the thin man still very much alive, though his torso looked to be bent at a ninety-degree angle. He sat, twisted in the most grotesque manner Summers could imagine.

“Just, fuck you…”

That was all Summers could imagine. His breath was coming in ragged gasps now. His head swimming as he forced himself to stay awake.

Thankfully, the thin man didn’t get up. He just sat there, watching as Summers struggled to his feet, then threw open the freshly cleared hatch that led below.

His friends were waiting for him.

“What the fuck happened?!” Nowak looked up at Summers, all of them had their weapons trained on him.

Summers didn’t answer. Instead, he awkwardly sat, then lay on his back. Vaguely he could hear Synel yelling to Nowak about the gouge in his side. That wasn’t important right now, though. He was sure things would work out. He let his attention drift, looking up at the sky above.

It had been a really shitty day.

“Oscar Zulu Three do you read me?” Nowak spoke into the handheld radio.

There was no answer.

The radio had more than a few dents in it, the fighting had seen to the end of most of their horses, and the equipment they carried.

Asle watched as Synel treated Summers wounds. She’d removed his shirt, working to clean the large gash in his torso, among dozens of other things. Cortez had said he was more shrapnel than man at this point, Asle wasn’t sure what that meant, but she was certain it was bad.

He’d been too weak to do anything else for more than an hour now, even though his wounds had mostly sealed up.

That wasn’t what worried her, though. The strange, thin man sat at the far end of what remained of the bunker. Cortez had held a gun to him the entire time Pat and the twins had “secured” him within the bunker’s basement using a few lengths of rope. Asle had been the one that suggested they not touch him. His skin looked eerily similar to the hamr’s, and she’d already experienced firsthand what that did to a person.

Cortez had instead decided to drop a big rock on his legs and arms and hope for the best.

Asle was not fond of the snapping noises she heard.

Despite all that though, the thin man just laid there, smiling at them. He didn’t answer any of their questions, only stared back with that same expression.

It worried her.

Cortez scowled down at him. The man’s smile didn’t waver.

“Army should be here soon.” Nowak tossed the radio to the side, frustrated. “Just need to keep him like this until then.”

Asle watched as the thin man seemed to consider that a moment.

“…What if we made a deal?” He managed to smile, even despite his appearance.

“You got a shitty sense of humor.” Cortez replied. “Not a chance in hell we’re making a deal with… whatever the hell you are.”

“We’ve already-“ The thin man stopped. “Ah, our mistake. It has been a long time since we’ve spoken to someone… new. We are a harbinger. We came to your world in search of people. People like you.” He eyed Cortez.

“Since you’re feeling chatty mind telling us where the rest of your group is? That would buy a lot of good will, since you’re so eager to make a deal before the army gets here and all.” Cortez smiled back.

“…Apologies, we’ve explained ourselves poorly. We’re aware that you and yours aren’t native to this place. When we said ‘your world’, we meant yours. In every sense of the word. We hadn’t even touched on this place until you showed it to us. And we have to say, those are odds we still haven’t wrapped our heads around. Life in this galaxy is rare. Far, far more than you can imagine.”

Everyone froze as the thin man’s smile only widened.

“Good, let us get to the point. We want your bodies, that is unfortunately a point we can’t budge on. The system has forced priorities onto us and that is at the top. We can, however, promise you that you will be back.”

“…What do you mean? What’s happening on our world?”

“Submit to us and we’ll ensure you survive to learn about it. You’ll be revived just as the others of our kin.” The thin man gestured to a few of the soldiers. “More than a few of yours understood the rationale. We gave them the same deal. A place for them, and their families.”

“That’s a lie.” Cortez snapped.

“Why would I lie? My standing – well, laying here should be proof we can do as we say, the rest are just a matter of…” The thin man hesitated a moment. “Paperwork? Details, at any rate.”

“We got you dead to rights, why in the fuck would we help you now?”

The thin man took a moment, watching Cortez.

“You really have no idea what’s going on, do you?”

The group was left in stunned silence.

Before anyone could answer, Pat called out. They each turned to see a dust trail rising in the distance, the unmistakable sign of something travelling the road.

“-unker three, we are fifteen minutes from your location.” The radio sounded from behind Nowak.

“...Thank god for small miracles.” Nowak said in a low voice.

Asle just watched the approaching cloud with some trepidation.

She had never really liked the army, or trust them, even despite her friend’s insistence they were “better than most assholes.”

But now, seeing the smiles on the others’ faces, she couldn’t help but hope that she was wrong.