The night sky bled. Tracer fire marred its murky perfection with slashes of crimson. Small arms, undoubtedly. Occasionally, liquid fire outlined the ruins as if God himself had unleashed the Rapture. Then the night flooded back in, trying to wash away the blood and screams. It did little good; it never did. Peace in the Tatters came only in death, and even then only if you were lucky.

Asha sighed, leaning forward and stared down into oblivion. The bare girder had been her perch for the last hour or so. The building around her had been stripped clean long before she’d arrived in Telos. She felt like Jonah in the whale’s belly; ribs of smartsteel and ferroconcrete reaching thirty stories in either direction. For a moment, she could escape the pressures of life below. Pressures like those in the deep sea, crushing a body to dust.

Another torrent of gunfire streaked across the horizon; a gun battery of some sort. Then something reached out of the night and found it; turning it into a minor sun. Ghost images burned on Asha’s retina, refusing to fade even as the afterglow disappeared. Just what the hell was going on out there? Somehow, she knew. She simply refused to accept it.

A shadow moved to Asha’s right. Normally, her weapon would be drawn out of pure instinct. But she unconsciously recognized the man’s sounds, his breathing. He’d allowed her to notice him. Normally, he was a cat’s whisper; a smoke phantom. This was simply his way of being polite.

Grey nimbly walked out onto the girder and sat down beside her. This close, she could smell his tension. Immediately, her heart sank. So, it would be bad news, then.

“It’s the Razorbacks,” Grey said in a voice of stone. Another volley of lightning and death scorched the sky as if to accentuate his words. “Someone’s moving on them with heavy metal. No markings, no colors. Just bots and psychos. They’re mounting heads on a gundam like a damned necklace.”

Asha’s belly twisted. So it /was/ the same ones. She’d seen their work only three weeks ago. They’d done her a favor back then, turning the Gorillaz into protein confetti. It’d seemed like a blessing at the time since those bastards were pushing in on her territory. Now she wasn’t so sure. At least the Gorillaz took prisoners. These… things didn’t believe in mercy or gaining turf. Just death. Empty, meaningless death.

And with the Razorbacks gone, it wouldn’t be long before they came looking for Asha and her family.

She remembered a time long ago and far away- not elsewhere, but else when. Though the players were different, the scenario was the same. A faceless invader come to turn her world upside down. She sighed ruefully at the thought. It might seem vanity to make the whole thing about her- but it seemed no matter how far she went, trouble followed. She looked at Grey through the reflection of a AV panel, the detritus of some earlier nameless battle. She dared not look directly at him- for to do that would be to let him see the need for an out on her face. And that she could not do. Though she knew that he was a man of honour, and antiquated moral values, trust was a commodity to be hoarded, not given, in as hostile an environment as the Tatters were. She worried her lower lip with her perfect teeth. She knew that the man was aware of her scrutiny- but also knew that he would not acknowledge it unless she did.

What was she to do? She felt so out of her depth at times like these, in the world of concrete and steel that her life had been transformed into. She had to admit that the other gangs were more powerful, and had more resources that she could ever muster. Long before she had ever joined them, Skag- their former leader- had made a critical mistake. One that had cost them most of their number, and forced them to the Tatters where they had been reduced to dealing with the skavvies from the fringe. Then the - whatever it was - with Franx... they were in no position to deal with this. No position at all.

She looked from his craggy, scarred face to her own reflection. He was one hardened by a lifetime in this place where the sky was burnt by battles with weapons that man was not meant to wield. He had more experience in these things than she could ever hope to have, and it seemed that every encounter was written in a map of lines and worn flesh across his body. In contrast to her pale skin and fine porcelain features that some found attractive- but that also told a story of one whom had not any experience in the ways of this harsh world. It was only by dint of fate and its fickle hand that she found herself in command of the gang- a place that she felt he would be more suited to. But as he had told her over and over, she had been the challenger- the one to kill Skag in mortal combat. So the leadership position was the spoils of the victory. "This ain't no fraggin' democracy," he had said when she tried to turn the position over to him. "You can't just turn it over as you please and expect any of us to survive the fallout. You challenged that geek Skag, and rightfully so. You beat him, and so you lead. It's just that simple."

But it wasn't that simple to Asha, and it didn't make any sense. And it sure as hell didn't make her feel any better about the whole thing.

So that brought her full circle to the same question. What was she to do? What was he expecting her to say? She clamped down on the spike of fear that tried to rise in her psyche, and forced herself to think with the clarity that this situation required. Reaching inside of herself, she ran through scenarios and possibilities with a speed that defied reason. Every one of them ended the same way- with their total annihilation. And the percentages on her mental sims was so high, that she dared not even hope that she could be wrong.

So retreat was their only option. But was it? And retreat to where?

"Analysis," she finally queried, without looking at him, her voice as steady as she could make it.

Grey stared out into the night for a moment. While thinking, he drew his thumb along the curve of his jawbone. Asha could hear the faint scratch of fingernail over stubble and scars. A low sigh, more like a growl, escaped his heavy chest.

“At current strength and morale, I doubt we’d survive a probing mission from those troops. We’re just not trained to handle bots. First sign of a Kill-happy, half our droogs will break. We go after them, we’re scrap. Already other boosters are drooling at the thought taking us from behind like lovebombed whore.”

A needler pistol, diminutive and evil, found its way to his callused fingers. He spun it with stunning alacrity until it cam to rest in his off-hand. A dark smile painted his etched features. “So, my analysis is this. Go on the offensive. You have a weapon in your hands, you use it. Right now, Kane’s Boyz and the Glorious Lords are going at it full-bore. The Boyz control a tasty chunk of real estate in the Fallen Plaza. If we hit them from behind and offer tribute to the Lords, we could get the hell out of this kill-zone. It’d also boost morale.”

A staccato of gunfire erupted, then silence. Soon, the uncontrolled fires and oily smoke were the only signs that a battle had been fought. A bloody glow on the horizon marked the approach of day cycle. “I’ll scout the front before light. Maybe I can get my hands on some scrap before the Garbage Men take their share. You think on what I’ve said.”

Even as Grey finished speaking he was off into the mists of the battlefield, picking his way so adeptly among the deadly killing zone that even knowing where he was, her eyes could barely discern him. But even with his honed skills, she knew that skill only took you so far in this blasted landscape, and that the weapons of this impersonal time killed indiscrimately and suddenly.

She looked at herself, and what she had become, and it saddened her. Was life worth any cost if you sold yourself in the process? While most in this cursed place considered life worth less than the sum of its parts, she could not buy into that. The gang still fought for what it had and the living they could eke out in this place, but as of late, she had curbed their worst excesses...

But, in the end, would she do anything to ensure her survival?