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Fate Twister (Redux Edition)

Act II Chapter I

"5 Minutes Alone"

H.D. August 25th, 2528

It had been over two years since the two had been 'rescued' from the Humans that had held them. Ironically the Sangheili that had questioned them back on the ship had proved to be very quick to the underhanded way of person trafficking for profit. It was lucky for the pair as it gave them another chance of survival. The Sangheili officers held the two in secret until they had returned to the Sangheili's home planet, Sanghelios. Once there, the officers had sold the two off as of a lesser class to a coalition company that had a huge ore mining operation in an un-unionized zone near the equator of the planet. They have been working in the mines as excavators and machine operators in the sprawling mining community of Tallaham.

D'rok pulled back his two handed drill bit and held it idle, the invasive plasma based bit spun slowly as its drive eased from operating levels. He exhaled through the filters of his protective helmet and looked down through the green illuminated eye pieces at the drill, looking down at the clock on his drill. It was just about to be the end of his shift. As this was the case, he stepped to the left slightly and started the drill as he shoved it easily forward, widening his stance as he began to further operate. He spent a few moments chipping another layer of rock that he was working at. Just as he finished that layer another miner patted his shoulder to get his attention.

"Yeah?" D'rok asked loudly as he started to shut his drill down.

"Are you done for the shift, brother?" The Sangheili asked in his native tongue. His voice sounded through a radio filter.

"Yes I am. I was just now turning the drill off." D'rok answered as the drill shut off, he held the heavy drill at his side in his right hand.

"Very well, I am finished in a little while. Where do you think you can be found this evening?"

"I will most likely be with K'an at housing" D'rok paused, thinking "That is if he is not drunk!"

"Yes!" The miner gave a laugh "That much is true, brother! Very well. I shall see you later."

"Likewise. Now don't blow the cave up while I am not here. I don't want to miss any fireworks." D'rok joined him in laughter.

"Oh halt that talk! You jest. You leave before I do that exactly."

D'rok shook his head with a chuckle as he headed off for the exit of the cavern that they were working in and headed down the lengthy path towards the elevator to the surface. He dropped his drill off at his locker unit and entered the elevator. A few other miners joined him before the gate closed and the elevator began its slow ascent towards the surface.

Since the two had been there they have picked up the Sangheilian language as early as they could. They did their best to learn the way the Sangheili spoke as well as the culture and trivial norms and other things. If they were to survive they would need to blend into society perfectly. The language was not very hard to learn, as D'rok had always been a fairly competent learner of new languages and how they worked, how the words formed together and such, there were a few miners who spoke some English and were willing to help teach the two. If there was something K'an could not figure out, D'rok would help him and vice versa.

As for their current situation: Since they were sold to Win-Rok, a prominent ore mining company, they were to mine underground for ore with thousands of others beside them in unison. Win-Rok seemed to buy the services of either criminals, elderly, or sometimes even other species who were lower class. There was very little money to be made and what was made was usually swindled out of individuals by some backdoor means. The rate of crime was high in the community and there was even a prominent mafia-esc underground power, known as the Bloodfist Clan, who controlled and highly influenced the immediate established area. They, however, were not a force to trifle with.

The elevator came to a slow grinding halt as it reached the surface. The doors opened and D'rok joined the flow of miners who all had just finished their shifts. A quick gust of wind kicked up sand and blasted along the small crowd leaving the elevator; D'rok held a covered arm and hand to help keep the sand from buffering against his helmet and mask. Their work uniforms and equipment were fitted to take the sandblasting, however even the best prepped material will wear from exposure. Having a tear or being uncovered from the buffeting sands in these parts could be medically devastating. D'rok exhaled as the gust lessened and the hot sun fell onto his uniform and harness, adding a sudden and nearly stifling sense of heat from the cold underground climate his body had grown to during the shift.

The group dispersed as the miners broke off evenly to go about their paths to whichever office or time punch station they needed to be. D'rok walked briskly between moving equipment and mobile machinery as he headed across the large flat that served as the current operation yard for the mine's machinery and large scale drills. Several more gusts of sand filled wind kicked up before D'rok had made it to the entrance of his punch card office. There were several different punch card stations snuggled in the line of buildings that served as somewhat of a wall between the operating yard and parking and transport stations which were beyond the other side of the buildings. Once he reached his punch card station, a fellow miner held the door open for him briefly and left him to close the door. D'rok pulled his mask off carefully, flexing his mandible muscles as he did, and clipped it to his belt before entering the office that the entrance way was connected too. Inside the office was a pair of desks that were built in the shape of 'L's, behind one of them was a middle aged female Sangheili.

"Good afternoon, Mayia" D'rok began as he approached the desk.

"Hello…" The female looked up at him with hazel eyes from a data pad, her hand still lightly clasped over her shirt neckline that covered her breasts. "You are looking for your punch card, D'rok?"

"Yes I am, lovely miss." D'rok answered in a soothing and kind voice.

"Give me a moment please, D'rok" Mayia set her datapad down and reached over into a folder on her desk. After a moment of flipping through the contents she pulled out a thin, metallic sheet. "Here you go, D'rok. I'll see you tomorrow." She gave an attractive smile as she held the sheet towards him.

"Likewise."

D'rok took the sheet from her and looked down at the orange holographic charts and information that was being portrayed on the flat metallic surface. He moved towards the rear exit of the building as he looked over his coming shifts and accumulated hours for this week. He stopped before exiting the building to put the sheet against the punch-in scanner and also to put his mask back on. After he exited the building, and also after being met but yet another sandy gust, he walked across the parking area towards the nearest transport station where a small fleet of ground based transport crafts waited for departure.

He entered the one of the nearest transports that was heading towards the housing complexes. Each transport, known as the outdated Vena-class transport, was lengthy, similar to a bus, sitting upon a set of eight large deep tread tires. The transports were each approximately 12 feet in height and 50 feet in length and were a dull gray color. The paint of each was scraped and buffered from the natural sandy winds. He had to duck his head slightly as he entered the dimly lit enclosed cabin through an opening under a hatch that was lifted vertically from the hull for entry. Inside were several other miners who sat with their backs against the hull of the Crawler on the bench seats. There was not much room inside of them for more than two rows of people down the either side of the Crawler. He took a seat towards the middle of the vehicle, slouching slightly as he rested himself in the first seat he had used that day. It wasn't before long for the transport to start rolling along towards its destination. D'rok further rested his back against the interior hull and tried his best to get comfortable. The ride was not overly horrid, however it was just so lengthy to be of a mild annoyance. The crawlers slowed to an abrupt stop; some of the miners who had fallen asleep during the ride slightly scrambled as they readied themselves for exit. D'rok was one of the first to exit the crawler as he was the last to get on before it departed.

D'rok stepped down onto the packed sand as he exited the transport. There was no gust of sudden wind to meet him as he left the safeness of the wheeled metal box. There was, however an open area that served as the transport station. It was enclosed by some buildings and a large metal wall. D'rok moved away from the transport as more miners exited the hatch and dispersed among the station lot in multiple directions. D'rok moved along the crowd for a bit and went his own path as he entered a street that branched off of the lot. The street was fairly busy, there were numerous groups of people who stood around the fronts of the taverns and little run down shops that ran along both sides of the street. The street was darkened by the lack of sunlight; the suns were setting and the only illumination was the glow of the neon-esc lights on the cement walls and the occasional lighting from an open store. D'rok passed a tavern as some unruly Kig Yar was tossed out the front door, a shattering of glass ringing out from inside just before. He ignored events like that; stuff like that always happened here in the town.

This was the town of Tallaham. It was actually more of the size of a settlement, with only having a few streets of housing, a couple of bars and shops, and a transport station. There was no paved or stoned path within the settlement; only packed sand and the occasional cement sidewalk which were found closest to the transport station. For the most part the settlement was mostly cool as the angle and the narrowness of the streets prevented a good portion of direct sunlight from heating the streets with the exception of perfect midday. Nothing here was in well condition; the cement lay set, cracked and crumbling; the walls of the buildings stand firm, yet covered in graffiti and porous from time. There was hardly any sand blasting damage there as the settlement was snuggled within a large metal wall that stood at the height of nearly 40 feet.

As secure as it sounds, the place held a similar overbearing sense of a facilitated keep.

After making his way down several narrow streets and neon lit districts, D'rok turned into a set of two doors that opened to a group of housing settlements. He opened and entered the one that lead to a staircase to the second of two floors of apartments. At the top of the stairs was a mid sized hallway that continued inward. D'rok walked down this hallway, passing by the many numbered doors of tenants on either side, until he reached his room. With a quick fumble of his keys, the metallic door opened and he entered into his living space. Inside was a small kitchen and a living room split by a walkway that lead to the bedroom. A table rested with two chairs closely to the couch that opposed an outdated holographic television display against the opposite wall.

D'rok dropped his things at beside the doorway and fell back onto his couch. He gave a sigh as he looked down to the little end table next to the arm of the couch. On the table sat several empty bottles of alcohol. One had hardly been drank from, the large blue colored glass bottle still held most of the original content. He lightly picked the bottle up, sighing, and he drank from it. His eyes closed slightly as the fermented liquid washed down his throat; it was room temperature and somehow still a bit carbonated. As he continued to sip the warm beer he sat there thinking quietly of previous events as he usually did.

He quickly found his head growing heavy as he began to slip in his consciousness. He nodded off just as he had a thought about the long work days being tiring. There was not much he would dream of. The small list mostly consisted of dreams of his human experiences. Sometimes he would dream of when he was a child where he would help his father work on classic era cars. Sometimes he would dream of his mother's cooking or school events. However more often than not he would dream about Morgan. He missed her terribly, although he knew he couldn't let that pain drag him down. He had to try to move on, knowing very well that he would not see her again. She would have wanted him too. It would be the best for both him and K'an.

D'rok was abruptly awoken by his data pad from across the room. With a groan he got himself up and went to check the data pad. On the screen was a message from the owner of one of the local taverns in town. The message of the owner was that K'an was, once again, 'making allies' at his bar.

D'rok cursed under his breath and set the data pad down. He went into one of the cabinets near the couch. From it he pulled a Type-52 'Mauler' pistol and two disk style magazines for the weapon. He took one of the disks and slid it upward into the magazine bay until a click sounded. He set the weapon down on the cabinet and quickly changed from his work clothes to more casual wear. He attached a holster on his side that was disguised as a tool bag and slid the weapon into it. It was a necessary disguise as projectile based weapons were outlawed in Tallaham. The pistol fired a compressed bunch of heated metal that would spread like a shotgun upon exit of the barrel. It was a Jiralhanae weapon, so it was more primitive than the elegant plasma weapons of the Sangheili, however it costed less to smuggle into the town. It was in itself a costly purchase, but a worthy one at that.

D'rok quickly made his way towards the bar from the housing complexes. It was now the late evening and the town was dark. Music could be heard and small groups of miners stood around the streets near the night activities that commonly happened. His pace was swift, his fists clenched and with a tense form. He received several nervous looks from the standing groups along the path. D'rok had learned early off how present himself as intimidating. Even as early to when he used to be human he learned this. In turn for the act he would not be bothered with. He soon arrived at the bar that he was told that K'an was. He stopped for a moment to let his angered mandibles flare until he tightened them as he enter and He slipped past a drunkard stumbling out of the wide entrance. D'rok headed right over to the bartender.

"Where is he?" D'rok asked the bartender.

"Over there" the tender pointed to a corner in the back. "I don't want any unrest here, D'rok."

"I'll do my best." D'rok growled as he turned to the table.

Over to the corner where K'an sat. K'an had his back to the corner and was clearly intoxicated. In front of him were four Sangheili who stood around the table in a fashion to somewhat block full view of what was going on. They were marked with the Bloodfist Clan insignia. D'rok placed the leader of the group and identified what they were carrying. Two had knifes, one being the leader and one to the left of K'an, and another on the right had a Type-25 "Spiker" rifle on his hip.

D'rok began to approach the table. He could hear the conversation over the noise of the bar. They were discussing K'an's debts. As D'rok drew closer to the table, he slipped several credits on an occupied table as he grabbed a large bottle of alcohol from them while passing. Gripping the bottle at the neck in his left hand he shouted at the group surrounding K'an. As the leader turned counter clockwise D'rok swung his arm backwards at him, violently smashing the bottle over the leaders cheek. The leader recoiled, turning to fall onto the table K'an sat at. One that stood nearest to the leader turned to face D'rok. He was not fast enough to D'rok's right fist as it plowed into his nose. The strike dropped the Sangheili like a brick. D'rok watched the one with the Spiker struggle with his holster. Drink drew his Mauler and sent a shot into his chest as he was just pulling the Spiker out of the holster. The shot Sangheili fell back against the wall behind him from the force of the shot. D'rok fired once again. The spread of metal bursted his chest open straight through the bones to his innards. D'rok turned the gun to the last Sangheili standing, aiming it at his head. He seemed to be in a state of shock.

"Leave!" D'rok yelled at the Sangheili who still stood. The Sangheili ran for the door, scurrying like a fleeing animal.

D'rok turned to the leader who was leaning against one of the chairs. He was clutching his face. His blood ran down his arm and dripped from his jaw, mixing with the strong bourbon that had soaked into the wounds on his face. D'rok gripped the large Sangheili by the shirt and hefted him to his feet. D'rok then gripped him by the neck and shoved him hard against a pillar of the bar. The Sangheili struggled to breathe with D'rok's fingers pressed into his neck.

"I want you to tell the people you work for that the debt for K'an is finished. You will no longer bother him about it." Drok growled in the face of the Sangheili before shoving him away towards the front of the bar.

"You will be slain for your actions! Metirchi will make sure of that!" The Sangheili shouted highly of his boss.

D'rok's lip curled."You give me five minutes alone with that punk and I'll kick his ass!" He snarled as he instinctively showed his teeth.

"I'll be sure to send him your yield." The D'rok shoved the off and watched the Sangheili quickly leave the bar.

At this point the entire place was quiet, all of the customers stood watching D'rok after the violent altercation had unfolded. D'rok looked down at all of the blood, glass, and liquor that had been thrown across the floor in a grand mess. He turned as the rest of the bar started to return to it's previous notions and then he stepped over the legs of the dead Sangheili. K'an was still at the table he sat at before, only now he was unconscious. This position for him was not uncommon as of late, as he was constantly drinking himself to oblivion. With a sigh of annoyance, D'rok gripped K'an after placing his weapon back in its holster and lifted him to his shoulder. He shook his head and began towards the door.

"Sorry about the mess" D'rok exhaled as he tossed several credits to the bartender. "It won't happen again."

D'rok continued to the door of the tavern, occasionally brushing past drunken miners who were stumbling to their seats after the commotion had taken place. After he left the building he paused on the sidewalk to adjust his shoulder to better bare the weight of K'an before continuing onto the housing complexes. D'rok stuck close to the well illuminated and decently busy streets; even if it was a longer walk, it was better than getting jumped by the Bloodfist clan. Despite the paranoia involved with dealing in such travels, it was all but necessary as the clan was fairly prominent in the area. He received many second looks from the people he had passed. The looks were quick to look elsewhere to not draw attention to themselves.

Soon, however, he was fumbling with his keys to open his housing unit. Once the door had opened, he entered the room and quickly set K'an on the couch. He then stood from the couch and quickly sealed the door tightly. D'rok sighed heavily, pacing in front of his kitchen area. with a frustrated growl, he sat heavily onto the chair at the kitchen table. The chair shifted under his weight and he set his Mauler on the table next to him. He sat there for a while just contemplating about how to act on this mess that was quickly spun up for the two. The Bloodfist clan would definitely set up a retaliation. Even with the fact that D'rok had worked with the clan's leadership for a few side jobs, he never had directly got involved with their work and trifled with their deeds. He couldn't have just let them hurt K'an though, that was a definite.

K'an woke up hours later with a groan, causing D'rok to look up from his palms that his face rested in.

"Wh...where am I?" K'an gurgled from the couch.

"You are on my couch, K'an." D'rok answered. K'an's face seemed to grimace.

"Oh. Of course I would be here" K'an growled; the two still had that feuding rivalry.

"You are better off than where you were."

"Oh I bet I am." K'an sighed in a displeased manner.

"Come on…" D'rok sighed. "I just saved you from a mess."

"I did not need any saving" K'an spat back at D'rok.

"Are you joking me?"

"Of course not!" K'an sat up on the couch

"You were drunk off your ass-"

"So what! I don't need your help" K'an glared.

"Oh for fuck sakes cut that shit out!" D'rok yelled, taking a stand from his seat. "It has been two fucking years, man! Ever since that fight you have been constantly bitter for what I said." D'rok's nostrils flared "I'm sorry! I always have been."

"That does not help-" K'an tried to cut it.

"Of course not! It won't, either!" D'rok's hands went into the air in frustration. "It also doesn't help that you're ending a relationship because of one five minute fight during the most traumatic events either of us have gone through." D'rok had stood there staring back, his mandibles flaring with adrenaline. "Enough of this. You need to grow the fuck up!"

K'an watched D'rok's emotion from where he sat quietly. His mandibles twitched slightly as he was about to retort, however his mouth closed and he looked down considering the facts. He exhaled softly before looking back up apathetically at D'rok.

"You're right… I'm sorry." K'an quietly admitted.

"Thank you… Finally." D'rok approached him and sat next to him on the couch beside him.

"Well… ok…" K'an sighed again. "Now that the friendly girl bullshit is over… what the fuck now?" K'an looked to D'rok.

"I don't know…" D'rok paused. "I have not thought of anything yet."

"That is just dandy. I will start digging graves for us now" K'an smiled slightly, as some of the tension was gone.

"No. We just have to stay on our toes." D'rok answered.

"Oh? What the fuck are we going to do? Cut them in on our cookie selling profits?"

"No." D'rok stood from the couch chuckling.

"No?! Why not?" K'an asked jestingly as D'rok left the room temporarily. "It could work! It is a valid business venture!"

"Again… No" D'rok said as he reentered the room.

"But why?" K'an looked.

"Because…" D'rok tossed a energy dagger hilt to K'an, in which he caught. "The cookies are ours to keep." D'rok smiled.

H.D. August 27th, 2527

D'rok and K'an were back to work on the mines. Nothing had happened with the Bloodfist clan the day before; D'rok had noted this, as he and K'an were paying very close attention to their surroundings. Surprisingly there was no suspicious activities from the norm of the working community. The Bloodfists had not attempted to poison, or crush, or explode the two. To D'rok this meant they either decided it was not worth of a task, or they were planning something big. The latter was not wanted by either of the two.

Despite them wanting to just hide it out or run, they had to continue working. There really wasn't much they could do as they were under constant watch and the checkpoints to leave would never open for the workers as they were technically 'owned' as property by Win-rok. So for the time being, the two were working the day away. Given the chance, the two would make a break for it. They would head north as it was told that some of the northern states were very forgiving in their laws and legislation. The problem was getting out of the facilities.

As the norm usually was, D'rok was down in one of the mines that he was assigned to for that day. He held his Plasmite drill with both arms flexed, fists balled fiercely on the two handles attached to rear half that was the drill's engine. The frontwards end of the drill was illuminated by the several beams of plasma that projected out to a point several inches in front of the end of the drill. How it worked was at the point of collision of all of the beams any solid material would disintegrate. The beams, as programmed by the control module at the handle end, were designed to smartly disintegrate everything but valuable material. This allowed for no useful material to be wasted and it would come out as a pure clump like it naturally preserved in the rock around it. Once the stone around the mineral was disintegrated, the material would be pulled to the front tip of the drill inside of the plasma beams that would cage around it. There it would hover and spin slowly, taking heat from the beams and slowly melting into a spherical shape. Once the sphere of material would reach a certain size, the beams would shut off until the user released the sphere into a cart. D'rok continued through the motions of drilling.

D'rok looked over quickly at his common drilling partner, the one who he always worked with it seemed, who was moving a full mineral cart to make room for another. The two made temporary eye contact, and nodded to each other. This was just to make sure that everyone was ok, as it was difficult to hear over the drill at times. D'rok adjusted himself and went back to drilling. Several moments passed, the drill heavily vibrating in his hands, when the ear-piece connected to the local frequency buzzed.

"What are you doing down here?" The voice of his mining partner asked through a soft buzz of static.

D'rok began to slow the drill down to an idle until he noticed a bright flash of green illuminate the wall in front of him. D'rok looked back quickly as the sounds of struggle began. In the middle of the cave segment that D'rok was working was a Sangheili wrestling with his mining partner. He noticed that the Sangheili was not uniformed to work with Win-rok; he in fact wore the Bloodfist clan mark on his shoulder. The intruder held an overheated Type – 25 Plasma Pistol in one hand and with the other he was fighting off D'rok's partner. His partner was gravely injured, his torso was a melting mess down to the bone after receiving an overcharged plasma bolt to the chest. The injured worker fell to the floor quickly in agony at the attacker's hooves. D'rok and he made eye contact.

The Bloodfist member snarled and took a step back from D'rok, trying to prepare for a brawl. D'rok skipped a beat and turned on his heel to lunge at the clansman. He gave a adrenalized yell as he brought the butt of the drill to the clansman's sternum. The clansman struggled against D'rok's sudden speed and fired the now cooled pistol in vain. The shots missed and hit the floor of the cave as the drill made contact. The clansman recoiled and fell against a mineral cart behind him. D'rok continued his charge and shoved his shoulder into the clansman's gut, causing him to further fall back onto the cart. D'rok turned himself to the clansman as he struggled to get up from the cart. D'rok started to run the drill again, this time the front end was pointed at the attacker. Before the Clansman could react, D'rok drove the drill forward as the motor began to spin. The drill's tip made contact with the clansman's belly and began to very quickly disintegrate his flesh. It was not a very messy process until the bit began to sink into his innards. Through the clansman's screams, the drill only slowed very slightly as it began to chip away at his ribcage. D'rok continued the lifting motion of the drill as it continued eating through the clansman and he did not stop until the clansman's futile screams and resistance ceased. D'rok stopped the drill and pulled it back, letting the body of the clansman slide to where it would sit against the mineral cart.

"Huh" D'rok hummed as he stood over the body. "Don't get up" he chuckled and dropped the hefty drill onto the bleeding corpse.

D'rok retrieved the Plasma pistol that now lay nearby on the ground before he began to move for the chamber exit. He stopped briefly to look over his dead mining partner who was melting still from the plasma. He shook his head and tightened the grip on the pistol, grimacing the death of a commoner. With a sigh D'rok left the and started to make his way to the surface elevator

He needed to get to K'an. The guy clansman was sent here to kill D'rok, and it would be highly likely that K'an would also be targeted. After receiving several nervous, unsure looks of fellow miners he passed, he entered the elevator and began to ascend to the surface as the gates closed on the elevator. The ride seemed longer than usual, as if it was stretched by situational pressure. D'rok was on edge, as he should be, but he tried to calm himself bye fiddling with the heat duct on the Plasma Pistol. The gates opened as the elevator stopped, D'rok let the heat duct close on the pistol before exiting.

D'rok took the pistol in both hands and held it downward to his side as he broke into a jog out of the elevator. He needed to quickly get to K'an; his life was at stake. It was probably good that he made haste, slipping and dodging passed several shocked workers, as he broke around a corner into the heavy mechanics sector that K'an worked in. K'an was standing besides his machine with his hands up open in front of him as if to argue innocence or a plea. In front of him were several members of the Bloodfist who had weapons to K'an. A darkened wheeled truck sat close behind the group of clansmen. D'rok snapped into action once again and sprinted the distance. It was a stretch, but there was not much he could do with a single plasma pistol, As he rushed towards them, D'rok lifted a metal hammer from the top of the tracks of a machine on the way.

Surprisingly the group had not noticed D'rok barreling towards them, they probably were too entertained and arrogant towards their current prey. D'rok lunged at the nearest clansman with the hammer, cracking the bastard against his head. A loud crunch rang out, as his skull was simply crushed in by the hammer. The others in the group flinched at the new attack, the several furthest in the group fled to cover while three stood flustered. The nearest one began to turn his Spiker on D'rok; however, his forearm was met with a swinging hammer that snapped the two bones in the forearm. D'rok took the Spiker in the same motion after letting go of the Plasma pistol. The injured clansman fell to the dirt holding his snapped forearm and D'rok quickly used the newly acquired Spiker to fire point blank at the two that still stood frozen. Those two quickly fell to the onslaught of spike projectiles.

"D'rok?!" K'an yelled through his environment filter after his overtaking of the situation.

"What?!" D'rok asked as he ducked against the side of the nearby truck as the clansman who ran to cover began to fire back at D'rok.

"What are you doing?" K'an ducked from the shots against his machine.

"Are you serious?!" D'rok yelled as he raised the Spiker to fire back at the Clansmen. "Shut up and get in the fucking truck!"

K'an shut his mouth and quickly slid around the truck and got into the passenger side of the vehicle. D'rok continued to exchange shots until the Spiker clicked at the end of the magazine. He then quickly opened the driver side door and slid in. He frantically fumbled with the keys that were in the ignition as a few Spiker bolts flew through the back window of the truck. The truck started and he shifted the vehicle into drive and stamped the pedal to the floor. The truck's big tires spun madly against the packed sand; a dual spray of sand was thrown behind the truck as it lurched forward, gaining speed. Several more bolts flew through the windows of the vehicle as D'rok struggled to drive the truck without any massive collisions.

D'rok slid the vehicle out of the heavy mechanics sector and into the operation yard. He found himself fishtailing the truck in order to avoid several batches of workers who were changing locations and shifts. It was a high traffic as it was the center of operation. The truck bounced around, shaking D'rok and K'an up badly in the cabin, as it struggled to stay in forward motion over the low traction of sand. Soon after several frantic moments the truck was out of the thick of people and picking up speed for one of the several Win-Rok checkpoints that led directly out into the open desert around the compound. This one was used for machinery to pass through and was guarded by a checkpoint with a crossing bar that hang positions across the lane get out.

"Hold on" D'rok warned K'an as the truck's tires hit the short lane of cement before the checkpoint.

The truck lurched with sudden grip and began to accelerate towards the checkpoint. The two braced for impact just before the front of the truck plowed through the crossing bar. The crossing bar bent harshly to the side and the truck somewhat slipped into a bit of a power slide from the collision. D'rok brought the vehicle under control and followed the cement until it ended and then he turned onto the next northbound sand trail. There possibly would be some chase from either Win-Rok or the Bloodfist, but it did not matter. They were heading to the North and hopefully away from the hellhole that had claimed their lives for over two years.