- Lower!

He pulls the diplomat by her hair, making her let out a loud cry of despair as her body hits the ground.

A wide streak of plasma, tearing through the air in a sonic explosion, grazes just centimeters from her face. Emitting a smell of burnt hair, followed by the sound of metal twisting against the steel wall right behind her head.

"Oh, my God! I..."

He signals with a clenched fist, his back facing backward, making the queue of the most varied intelligent species one could find in the galaxy come to a halt. All humanoid, but some with extra arms and fingers, resembling hands. Others, with tentacles and extremely articulated and flexible limbs. Regardless of how many arms and eyes they had, they were exceptionally armed and armored.

They wait attentively for the next command from the one who moves forward. Wearing proudly on his chest the large crimson bear claw, bearing multiple marks of old shots and tears on his matte metallic vest. He speaks, looking attentively ahead, in a deep but low voice.

"Grin, do you know where the shot came from?"

The alien nods to his leader, positioning his old weapon on his shoulder. A simple elongated barrel, adorned with intricately carved beings of exquisite beauty, adorned with multicolored wings, accompanied by vibrant feathers. So well crafted into the metal that they appeared soft to the touch. Along with even more beautiful flora. But they didn't mask the true function of that piece of art. Firing ultra-dense projectiles at speeds several times the speed of sound, at whatever lay in their path.

His muscular tentacles held the piece with extreme dexterity, making it all seem light and easy. On his sturdy back was a thick, heavy black shield. It didn't seem to require any effort to carry. With two eyes in a strangely human face, dark blue from the bald head, and no pores visible on his smooth and shiny skin. Grin stared through a simple scope on his weapon, gazing at the horizon, crouched within a wide trench where they all were.

The diplomat looked at him, frozen. Her disheveled hair and sore neck didn't diminish her constant worry about taking a shot to the face. Or being yanked again without warning.

"Please, get me out of here! They... they were going to kill me!"

The leader looked at her with a smile, etched onto his wide head and beard, protected by a helmet and visor, almost covering his entire face. But she could still see his white teeth in a confident grin.

"We were paid for that. Red Claws." [He points to his chest, tapping the tip of the bear claw]. In five minutes, we'll break through the atmosphere. And you [he points at her, making her widen her eyes] to the United Systems."

A deafening shot causes the diplomat to throw herself to the ground, hands over her head. Shortly afterward, a thud from something heavy hitting the ground resounds not far from there.

She turns around to where the sound came from and sees Grin again, flashing a smug smile on his face as he lowers his weapon. He turns to another member of that eclectic group of mercenaries, raising six "fingers" of one of his tentacle arms.

"There are three more kills for you to beat me, Tomy, aren't there?"

Receiving an immediate response, familiar to all on Earth, from the only other female human among them. A scowling middle finger.

"Five and a half."

Grin narrows his eyes, adjusting his weapon on his chest.

"The Pituviran is worth a whole one; he was carrying a mini-missile launcher."

She retorts sharply.

"A mini-missile launcher."

Grin crosses the tentacles of his other two arms.

"Which could blow a hole in the 'Diver' big enough for Hal's head to fit through!"

The two look at one of them, among that band of space mercenaries, crouched in the metal trench. The one with a large gray head. Wearing a helmet tailored to his size.

The human grumbles.

"If only there were a brain inside that head..."

Hal turns his face to the side, all four of his eyes focused away from the talkative woman.

"You there! Pay attention."

The leader raises his voice, once again raising his hand and causing everyone to stand in position, swiftly grabbing their weapons on high alert. Even the diplomat gets into formation as if armed as well but behind the broad back of the leader. He raises a hand to his ear.

"Three minutes...? Alright, [he looks up] I see your reentry trail. Be careful during deceleration. The shield should hold for at least two more 'dives', the next one that malfunctions prematurely, and I'll deduct it from you, Jak."

Despite coming from the almost invisible earpieces in his ears, the diplomat can hear murmurs and protests from whoever is speaking on the other side even though she can't understand that language, which is odd, given that her time working in the United Systems embassy exposed her to various foreign languages. But nothing she hears through his earpieces even remotely resembles anything she's heard before.

"Let's go!"

The leader commands abruptly.

They move along the trench, each carefully covering the full expanse of space around them. Pointing their weapons toward each "sector" of vision they have of that narrow open path where the "undesirable fluids" of the city drain. Their feet and paws slip in the murky water, encountering the occasional piece of organic matter, completely indecipherable on the ground. When their AIs could see, they couldn't comprehend. In the optical visors over their retinas on the helmets they all wear, subtitles of "unknown" appear over these strange bodies.

This makes Tomy nervous, always stepping aside as much as she can when she encounters a pile of this unknown substance, usually shaped like a bulge ahead of her. Or worse, crawling toward her.

"But that's disgusting! Was this really the best way?"

Grin looks at her with a little smile, hinting at what he was about to do. This already startles her, biting her lips.

He gives a light touch, precisely placed with his foot, to one of the bulges, making it jump toward her. She nervously sidesteps it, bumping into Hal. When she regains her balance, she looks at Grin with a deadly expression.

Which changes soon after to a vacant look, with her mouth slightly open. She moistens her lips with her tongue, her eyes no longer fixated on Grin, looking right through him. This gives him a shiver down his spine, as she raises her weapon, aligning her aim with his face.

Her finger touches the trigger firmly, releasing a thick and heavy sonic shot. It tears through the air next to his temple, passing through a shooter a few meters away, crouched with his weapon, ready to fire incandescent plasma into Grin's back.

"Advance!"

The leader pulls the diplomat to his side, enveloping her with his shoulder and back, running toward a just-landed ship. A hundred meters ahead, at the end of the trench, under the open sky.

The other members promptly start firing their plasma bursts and bullets in all directions. Launching fragmentation, EMP, and stun grenades, they spare no ammunition.

They run crouched through the trench, being cautious not to expose the tops of their heads to the outside world.

"Grenade!"

One of them yells. A metal ball rolls along the metallic edge of the trench, landing beside the diplomat's feet, causing her to let out a terrified scream.

Grin grabs his shield from his back and in a fraction of a second, it transforms into a black dome. Enveloping the bomb, he throws himself over it, holding the shield firmly against the ground.

The other team members automatically spread apart. Assuming firing positions, covering the entire perimeter. Ignoring Grin completely, who had veins bulging on his face and arms. The leader grabs the diplomat with his arm, pulling her to his shoulder and back, rushing her to where the ship had just landed.

She couldn't stop looking at Grin. Waiting for him to explode into the air.

A muffled explosion comes from the dome. Grin's helmet displays small cracks, and for a few seconds, he seems disoriented, unable to properly grab his rifle.

"Grenades!"

A shout comes from the last one in their trench formation. And more bombs come rolling towards the feet of the Red Claws. But this time, they simply grab them and throw them back. Hearing the explosions a few meters away.

"Advance!"

The leader orders again. And they walk through the trench, attentive to any movement. Until a grenade rolls again.

"Run!"

Grin yells. And everyone quickens their pace. The bomb barely touches the trench floor and explodes, leaving a scorched hole in the metal.

Grin taps the black shield, which has returned to its original form, attached to his back again.

"He wouldn't have withstood a second one..."

Tomy nods in his direction, confirming.

"They're cooking the grenades. Running is the... attention!"

She points to a shooter lying above the trench, where the metal walkway meets a sidewalk a few meters above them.

He fires, hitting one of the Red Claws in the head.

"Astra?!"

One of them shouts. He quickly takes out a flask with pink liquid from his armor. He slides over to his fallen companion, while the others return fire. Tomy lands a barrage of supersonic slugs on the unfortunate one who hurt her friend.

She looks back and sees the companion receiving the pink liquid on the burns on his smooth head. The helmet is in tatters, but it did its job. He's still breathing, and his eyes are half-open. Trembling, his ocular membranes opening and closing like an epileptic frog. Suddenly, he snaps back, sitting up abruptly. He lets out a deep sigh.

"What...? Mor, why did you...?" (He puts his hand on his head, wetting his fingers in the pink goo) "No! I told you not to put your fluids on me! This thing comes from your glands. Uhhhhh..."

He fights the urge to vomit. Then, he receives a hearty slap from Mor, delivered by one of his well-loaded tentacles on his mollusk-like body.

"Thank me later... I'll let you bleed next time."

Astra widens his eyes, swallowing hard.

"Get up, warrior!"

The leader orders, with a sidelong look and a deep voice. Astra grabs his weapon and returns to formation immediately, constantly trying to wipe the pink goo that's dripping onto his eyes.

Tomy glares at him disapprovingly. But soon, she refocuses on the sights of her gun.

They are getting closer to the open area where the trench disappears, opening up to a low-relief circle. Sewer openings were positioned there, accumulating years' worth of neglect in trash and debris.

The ship awaited them right in the middle, with some of the remains of strange organic matter and synthetic pieces burning below it. After enduring the heat from the plasma jets during landing.

They were closer now to the ship's door, that was opened, waiting for them. But when another plasma shot hits the ship's hull, her legs tremble, and she covers her mouth to prevent herself from vomiting on her own feet.

The leader lifts her with one arm around her legs and another around her back, trying to envelop her with his body as much as possible. She feels his entire form shift, the thick beard on his rough face with prominent features, appearing all over his body.

Nothing about him seemed weak; he exuded resilience, along with the wrinkles and occasional scars she could see, evidence of his years of combat. Yet the most curious thing was his calm and even caring touch as he held her.

With a serene expression as he looked at her as if trying to reassure her, a slight smile forming.

Until she was secure in the cabin, he tosses her into a chair and begins to buckle her in; no words are exchanged. The sounds of shots and bangs reverberating inside disorient her. He turns to her and speaks calmly.

"You're safe. Try to get some rest."

Then he turns towards one of the doors and presses a button. He looks at Grin, who's on the other side, having just pressed the same button but at the opposite entrance. They exchange a handclasp and a tentacle tap, both of them wearing sly smiles from ear to ear. Waiting...

Their pursuers surround them, in random and disorganized groups. Like a furious mob, yelling and leaping over rubble and fallen comrades' bodies, using them as shields. This doesn't help them much when a slug traveling at five times the speed of sound comes their way. Or plasma at millions of degrees.

The smarter ones hide behind vehicles, lie down on the ground, or simply wait for the others to move forward.

Tomy raises her rifle with a smile on her face.

"They never get tired of dying..."

Hal takes position behind her, firing plasma bursts.

"Get up, Tomi! You're running out of bullets!"

"How do you know?"

"I can count!"

She fires a few more bursts, taking down a few enemies. Then taps Hal's helmet with a smile. He blinks one of his four eyes at her and takes the lead, crouching. Tomy then stands behind him, gripping his shoulder with one hand and firing her last rounds with the other.

They retreat slowly towards the door of the "Diver", now more charred and dented than if it had reentered the atmosphere ten times over.

The other team members are positioned just like Hal and Tomy, inching closer to the ship.

One of them fires grenades from a launcher attached to his shoulder armor. He shouts, motioning for Mor and Astra, who were covering each other.

"Go, I've got you covered!"

He launches his last grenades at a drone, hitting it precisely and sending it crashing in flames onto an unfortunate enemy.

Astra and Mor exchange a nod and rush for one of the "Diver" doors. But they stop upon hearing their teammate's scream. His backs are scorched, metal twisted. A plasma burn reveals his green exoskeleton, cracked from the heat and impact of plasma, mixed with pieces of colorful wings melted and fused with his "skin," distorted beyond recognition.

"They got Buzz!"

Astra yells, running desperately to shield Mor with suppressing fire. Who crawls quickly toward his fallen friend, ignoring the plasma shots and slugs surrounding him. His pinkish liquid-filled flasks in his tentacles.

He pours the pink fluid onto Buzz's scorched back.

"I'll mend your wings. You can count on it!"

Buzz turns his face toward him. His expression of pain is recognizable in any corner of the galaxy. His multiple eyes, forming a double sphere on his face, blink and tremble. His insectoid mouth keeps moaning.

"My wings... rip those damn things off! I never want to use them again..."

Tony and Hal approach. She grabs Buzz by the shoulder and Hal by the other. With Astra in front shooting to protect them, they carry Buzz, his wings hanging limp.

Mor grabs his pistol from the holster, shooting electric bullets, taking out of action some enemies nearby.

Tomy looks at Mor, her eyebrows furrowed. Gasping as they carry Buzz.

"Still using those shock bullets? One day you'll have to kill."

Mor looks at her, his facial cilia hanging low. He speaks in a heavy tone.

"That day came a long time ago..."

Tomy decides to focus on the path ahead—the door to the "Diver," where her father was. The leader wears an impatient smile, and she knows that the battle will soon be over.

Grin and the leader grab their favorite weapons, after waiting impatiently for them to form from liquid metal on the edges of the ship's entrances. The miniguns are attached to the "Diver" doors.

They begin firing dense slug rounds at the unfortunate enemies. A satisfied smile graces their faces.

Those who can still crawl drop their weapons, whimpering and pleading in various languages.

Those able to run, bolt away as fast as they can. Leaving the claws, still outside the ship, to casually stroll inside. After delivering Buzz, Tomy sends her last provocation to them, a very enthusiastic middle finger with both hands, since her magazines are empty.

The doors of the "Diver" close, and the last thing the survivors see of them are the plasma trails streaking across the sky, disappearing into the clear blue.