The boom of the bandits' homemade cannon interrupts the Fallen's accursed chittering and a round shot plows straight into the advancing pack, vaporizing several of them in a bright flash of light. A large gap appears in the pack's ranks and any other enemy would have been left shell shocked by the sudden devastation they have suffered. Not the Fallen. They keep charging towards us without hesitation with not a single break in their stride.

By most standards, the Fallen are completely inadequate as soldiers. Savage and not terribly bright, the Fallen have managed to remain a menace despite their heavy losses thanks to the near limitless numbers they can bring to bear. But for all their faults as soldiers, cowardice is not one of them. The Fallen fight without concern for their lives, willing to attack regardless of the odds against them. Fallen armies don't rout either, at least in the traditional sense. From personal experience, Fallen don't have a strong sense of cohesion and rely purely on the more powerful variants to provide a very crude form of leadership. Which usually involves charging in a straight line at their opponents. Once these 'commanders' are defeated, Fallen armies rapidly degenerate into smaller packs, which then break off to pursue their own targets.

And that's exactly what happened here. The bandits were trying to lure me into their ambush but had inadvertently attracted a loose pack of Fallen to their location.

A ragged cough of mundane gunfire from the bandits sweeps the advancing line of enemies with little effect. As the Fallen steadily draw closer, a volley of thrown spears is added into the mix. The results are disheartening, with many spears and bullets failing to even penetrate the rubbery skin of the Fallen, bouncing off harmlessly to clatter on to the ground. Its nothing I had not expected when I saw the weapons the bandits were using. The heavy lifting, no make that all the lifting, for this battle will have to be done by me.

I extend my bulwark's layer of ablative armor and perform a headlong counter charge into the pack. The Fallen snarl at the challenge and swing their claws, tearing away pieces of the additional armor, but failing to deal any actual damage. I slam into the pack at full tilt, swinging my sword as quickly as I am able, the blade cleaving through the crowd and staining the ground with black ichor. The Fallen chitter furiously in response, as they move swiftly to encircle me, no longer bothering with the bandits.

Just as planned.

My bulwark explodes upwards into the open sky as I trigger the thrusters beyond maximum velocity. The Fallen extends their arms, trying to swat me down like a fly, while the bandits keep pouring more gunfire into their flanks. I dodge and perform an evasive roll through the air as those inky black claws close in. But to my dismay, my bulwark shakes from repeated impacts to the legs as the on board computer bleats out a warning.

Damage to the legs, condition yellow. Heavy armor loss, systems not compromised. More serious than what I hoped, but I can deal. The engines of my bulwark scream in defiance as I coax more altitude out of the machine and signal the bombs to be readied. Faster, I need to be faster. The Fallen are already adapting to my new approach, withdrawing their arms and growing bat wings from their backs. Give them a few more moments and the entire pack will be airborne as well.

But that is more than enough time for me to do the needful.

The targeting circle displayed on my HUD tightens completely around the pack and I immediately let fly with my bulwark's pair of bombs. Neither bomb possesses any advanced tracking or guidance systems, but the Fallen are too preoccupied with their mutation to be able to dodge. Many pilots mock the Stormer's poor fire control, but its more than capable of hitting the broad side of a barn.

And that's coincidentally also the approximate size of an average pack of Fallen.

There's a thunderous explosion, throwing shattered asphalt everywhere as fire blooms from an expanding epicenter of concussive force. A lazy cloud of grey dust forms around the blast site and as it slowly settles, all that's left of the Fallen pack is a pool of black slurry at the bottom of a large crater. My sensors pick up the hooting and cheering coming from the bandits holed up in the cinder block building. I quickly shush them with a gesture from my armored fist. As an uneasy silence settles over the battlefield, I frown in consternation at the tactical map on my HUD. I can't see any other Fallen present, but the map still insists on drawing that red blob representing their presence.

"Stay alert!" I bark from my bulwark's external speakers, "The next wave is coming!"

The bandits begin to jabber in confusion, but I have no further time to spare on them. The Stormer-Kai's tactical system begins harvesting updated sensor data from the surroundings, refining its approximations of the Fallen pack's size. The feeling in my gut gets progressively worse as the estimated numbers of the pack keep falling while the size of the red blob highlighted on the map remains constant. I tighten my grip on the sword in apprehension as a high pitched scratching sound emits from somewhere nearby. The Stormer-Kai finally completes its analysis and spits out the answer.

One.

There's just one Fallen left. That red blotch on my tactical map represents just a single Fallen. The bandits had not just attracted a loose pack, but one of the higher Fallen as well.

The scratching noise has now gotten so close that I don't need cockpit amplification to hear it. Then the noise is interrupted by the loud crash of a nearby building crumbling apart from being split evenly right in the middle. As the wrecked masonry spills all over the place, a jet black buzz saw tears straight out into the open, rolling across the street on the edge of its circular blade. Sparks fly as the higher Fallen drives in a straight line towards the cinder block building, its blade carving a shallow furrow into the ground. The scratching noise from the blade as it wears away against the street has become absolutely deafening, causing the wolf folk bandits to cover their ears in pain.

"FALLEN GRADE C DETECTED." the Stormer-Kai chooses this moment to helpfully inform me.

"Run!" I boom at the bandits. This is far more trouble than I bargained for. And I've already expended my bulwark's most powerful weaponry.

But instead of taking my advise, a burst of fire and smoke erupts from the cinder block building as the bandits fire their homemade cannon at the higher Fallen. The round shot impacts against the Fallen with the usual flash of light, but the buzz saw powers through the attack without pausing, a mild dent on the blade being the only noticeable injury the higher Fallen had suffered.

Damn fools, I curse inwardly to myself. I need to run interference for the bandits so they have the chance to escape. As the buzz saw bears down on the cinder block building, I jet forward, angling myself towards the Fallen's six.

The Stormer-Kai's thrusters rapidly eat up the distance between myself and the giant buzz saw and I begin searching for any possible weak spots on the higher Fallen's body. Despite not having eyes or sensory organs to speak of, the higher Fallen reacts immediately to my presence. The buzz saw emits a mechanical groan of effort and heaves itself off the ground, performing a flip as it slashes down the spinning blade in a deadly arc.

I almost bite my tongue from panic as my own reflexes kick in, bringing up the Stormer-Kai's sword in a hurried block. There's an earsplitting clang of metal on metal and I feel a jolt of impact travel up my arm. I hear a brittle snap as my sword is sliced apart by the buzz saw, and the momentum of the blow sends me flying backwards.

"WARNING. PRIMARY WEAPON DAMAGED." the Stormer-Kai drones in its infuriatingly calm voice. I throw the machine into a series of flips to bleed off some of the speed before managing to right myself at a steady hover.

Just in time to see the buzz saw pinwheeling towards me at full speed.

As I desperately back away from the advancing Fallen, I idly notice bullets impacting against my opponent's body. Those idiot bandits are still fighting instead of taking the chance to run away. As the blade draws inexorably closer, my heart is caught between feeling touched and being incredibly annoyed. If today's the day I'm going to make a noble sacrifice, I would hope that at least the said sacrifice would not be wasted.

"VALKYRIE DETECTED." the Stormer-Kai announces completely out of the blue.

My heart jumps at this sudden news. Before I can make sense of what is going on, a continuous stream of tracer fire erupts from the skies above me, slashing into the buzz saw. The Fallen jerks backwards as if it had been punched and the cannon rounds chew mercilessly through its structure in a series of small explosions. The buzz saw abruptly begins spraying ichor everywhere as it wheels out of control, the blade wobbling dangerously.

I take the opportunity to dodge to the side and just in time for the buzz saw's blade to shatter like glass, causing what's left of the Fallen to crash into one of the abandoned buildings. Hot steam rises from the Fallen's body as it begins to dissolve all over the ancient concrete wall, leaving behind a trail of foul black sludge.

My rescuer descends from the sky and draws level with me. As the Stormer-Kai stated, its a Valkyrie piloted bulwark, but unlike the more graceful designs usually fielded, this one resembles an armored trashcan. The rounded body is coupled with a set of blocky, heavily armored limbs and a large metal slab is attached its back, resembling a backpack. The Valkyrie carries a chain cannon in her arms, the barrels still spinning in expectation of more violence. A set of overly stressed jets manages to keep the clumsy machine aloft. I wait with my heart in my mouth as the Valkyrie regards me silently. She could be a hunter dispatched from the Citadel. I think my Stormer-Kai can outrun her, but that chain cannon would cut me down before I got too far.

My attention is diverted by the sight of another wolf man dressed in a short sleeved shirt and trousers darting out of one of the abandoned buildings, the exposed portions of his luxuriant pelt of grey fur mottled with dust. Despite the dirt on the newcomer's clothes, he is clearly better dressed than the bandits that I had come to rescue. The clothes are both more fashionable and made out of much better material.

The bandits quickly surround the grey wolf man but instead of pointing their weapons at him, a tense conversation takes place between both sides. After a few minutes of this back and forth, the grey wolf man begins waving to both the Valkyrie and myself.

"Friend! All friends!" the grey wolf shouts, "No need to fight!" The Valkyrie shrugs and lowers her chain cannon, cutting power to the barrels.

"Sure." her voice crackles from the bulwark's speakers, "Whatever you say Jackson."

Jackson. I remember that name. I'm sure he was one of the talent at Loveless. Looking at him more closely now, I see several welts all over his face. Someone must have beaten him really badly. What is he doing here anyway?

I follow the Valkyrie's lead and land my bulwark next to the group of beast folk. Just as I am internally debating whether or not to show my face to the crowd, the Valkyrie dismisses her machine entirely, revealing a red headed woman with a friendly look in her eyes. The Valkyrie walks right up to me without hesitation and offers a hand to shake. I cautiously extend my armored hand in return, not sure how to react.

"I don't bite y'know." the Valkyrie comments as she clasps my metal mitt, "I save that for the boyfriend."

"Uh, sorry." I mumble, finally dismissing my own bulwark, "Just taken by surprise, that's all."

"Happens to the best of us." the Valkyrie beams as she gives my hand a vigorous shake, "I'm Sammie."

"Let's be friends, OK?"