A/N: A million apologies for the disappearing act. After my last chapter update I had some...major personal things come up. I've had to work countless hours on setting my life back on track, and even now I'm not sure where it is headed. I haven't gotten much writing of any sort done in ages, and I'll fully admit three things about this chapter: 80% of this was already done 4 weeks ago, I had originally NONE of this chapter pre-written like I do so many others (my story bible had only "Hunter and the crew meet with the next city" for the description...nothing else. At all.), and I cut this chapter shorter than I originally intended because of how long it has taken just to finish it. Nothing truly important has been lost, only about 1500 words, but I still apologize for this.

Something else I'll note: this chapter is differnt from most of the ones directly preceding it. Why? Well, you'll see and I'll explain more at the bottom A/N.

And one last thing of major notice...this wouldn't have ever been finished if not for everyone who reviewed the last chapter's support. Blackhole1, SolarisAce, OMAC001, mivpus, Asuka Sakura26, Kaery91, Negitivity, SweetMichaela, coincidencless, Black391 and undead3 are what bring me back to writing despite my current real life situation giving me every reason not to. Your reviews mean a great deal to me, and I cannot thank you enough for them. I'm not sure how many people exactly still read this given my recent inactivity, but if you're willing to leave a message at the bottom to let me know you still do it'd mean a lot...

Well, here you all go! I hope you'll enjoy and let me know what you think!

(Suuran, Present Time, Hunter POV)

"James, where are you going? That monster will kill you with him if you go over there!"

"I'm going to go help Gerolf! We all got in this together, and we're all coming out alive or we're not coming out at all!"

"I'll get the ship. Bring him back, you here?"

"Okay!"

James had done his part...but damn physics for screwing Gerolf over after all of that. I don't even know how he survived that long to be honest, but I would rather not think much more about the entire matter.

I cut power to one of the back engines, the device's readout on my screen screaming all sorts of warnings. The lack of power causes the screaming to gradually shut down, but it doesn't stop the screaming of my partners as they are all tossed about.

As I manage to steady the ship, being the only one not thrown from their position given my seat and my mass. I can't spare them all a glance as I put the ship into full throttle and it rockets forward as fast as it can manage.

Air leaves my lips in relief. Even as I hear part of our ship clip part of a building I don't worry because now we're at least not going to nosedive into the ground. I swivel my chair and look to the others, "Is everyone alright?"

James lays where he was tossed, the wall, and stammers, "Ge-Gerolf got knocked out of the ship!"

I had only briefly seen it, but that didn't stop it from giving me this damn feeling in my gut. "Damnit James, what do you think I can do about that right now? We're too far away to turn back for him in time."

Despite my snapping at him the soldier younger than his years kept talking, his head sunk and his tone confused and hurt both, "But...we're the heroes. We don't leave each other behind to die. We always get out alive no matter the odds, because we try our hardest and pull through everything. This is..." I hear him choke back a sob as his voice trails off. He reaches to his helmet and unfastens it, tossing it away from himself as he finishes weakly, "wrong."

I tap a button on the ship to maintain course, the only thing in the direction we're heading being forests below and the general direction of the two other cities beyond. This being done I stand up and walk towards our team's weak link of sorts, "James, this isn't the time to dwell on it. We have wounded aboard this ship and more than a few likely got hurt when that engine cut out."

Strewn across a seat in an awkward position, Mac groaned as he tried to lift himself up in his Marine armor, "Was that what happened?"

I nod to the soldier before walking over to help him, "Something was firing at our back left engine and the damn thing cut out on us in a flash."

"Can we make it to the next city?" Crowley asks from his position atop the unconscious Paul, who would have made a better cushion if he wasn't still in full armor. His body had been tossed as if it were a ragdoll and now lay on the other end of the bridge than it had before.

"Yes, easily," my response contains a bit of the pain I am feeling because of our loss, and I almost let out a sigh to accompany my words. I fight it back while I think, for I'm not even sure how much Gerolf's death has registered on the others yet besides James, but if it's anything like in the past we're about to have a really quiet ride home, "Now that I've adjusted our engine output, we're fine but we'll be going a bit slower than we would be otherwise."

Finished there, I go back to check our ship's status and course without another word. James and Pierre remain quiet too, having their own thoughts and things to deal with I couldn't even begin to understand.

Mac though, having been through this situation the most out of any of us, is seemingly the least fazed for the moment as he approaches me and gives a light punch against my suit's shoulder, "I remember a time when you were too dumb to pilot. When did you get so savvy?"

I don't get up from my seat or even look towards him as I continue navigating the ship, knowing that our lives as well as many others depend on getting as ahead of the Zerg as possible, "Traded info with Crowley. He learns how to use the weapon and armor design software I use, and I learn how to fly."

Unlike the two ships of civilians who were helped escape, we are not heading up into atmosphere to escape the planet. My course is set to the next city, where there is the possibility an entire population has no idea of what happened here in the last few minutes. Radio transmissions had been sent from what I picked up, but the degree of knowledge the next town has is not known currently.

I frown at the readouts in front of me. Top of the line sensory equipment, but poor communication capabilities. That's what you get for bringing a ship meant to sense threats instead of communicate with them, like most common pirate ships. The transport ships heading to space are within our reach, but we have quite a few miles before we can contact the next city.

Our course punched in completely now, I lean back in my chair and let out a breath. I may be the only one sitting currently, but the vacancy in the seat to my right felt so...wrong. It had been a million strokes of bad luck that brought this about on us, and it's hard to believe what happened. Any other bastard would have died long before-

An extremely audible explosion shoots my attention to my readouts in front of me and I scramble to find out what just happened while the others all scramble to grab something.

Mac grabs the back of my oversized chair to brace himself while he yells, "What the hell is that noise? Is the ship coming apart?"

I shake my head as I see all of our previously undamaged systems remain that way, "Not this thing. It's too tough-" another, yet smaller, explosion catches my eye in the glass before us, and its source brings a larger scowl to my face, "Evacuation ship with the designation..." I read our information on the ship that has a broke ass rear end and grab its name, "Bradford, your rear engine is malfunctioning. Shut it off!"

A communication comes back from their ship and plays through our dashboard, the voice being that of a panicked female pilot who sounds so green that they're likely younger than even Gerolf was, "We need every engine we got if we're going to get out of this place! We can't afford to-"

The bright explosion was what cut her off not a moment later, the entire system of engines going off in a chain reaction and their fuel supply going with it. What was once a clunky ship escaping to the stars is now a fireball and pieces of debris, the lives on it now lost despite having just escaped death.

As memory serves from my initial sweep of the city, the Bradford had been the ship undergoing repairs when the Zerg arrived.

A silence hangs among us once again, this being a day with many reasons to lose our voices. I close my eyes and hang my head, pissed that none of us had managed to catch that the ship we saved's issue. By the time we noticed it was too late. And the damn idiots on board didn't know either. Wasted lives, all because nobody took a fucking look to see if the engines were fine.

"We are going to the other cities to make sure those people can escape too. No-one else dies if we can help it," I look back towards the others, "Pierre, you fly. James, you and Mac come with me. We've got some people who are wounded in the back."

I try not to sound gruff, but I know a bit of my current emotional state creeps into my words while the other two and I enter the back of the ship, where some cargo is strapped down and where people stand like packed fish in place of the cargo we could have picked up if not for this side trip, "Who here needs medical attention? Raise your hand if you do, and don't bother lifting it if you have a few scrapes."

Near the very front of the crowd a couple hands shoot up, the civilians raising their hands displaying no wounds. Next to them, however, lay a few militia members that are on death's door with vicious wounds and bite marks who are likely too weak to do so themselves. A flaw in my statement about how we're doing this, but I can't really focus on that now.

A few more hands raise to our right, these people displaying more minor wounds. Something that somebody like me with no medical training could handle, what with the first aid kit I have.

I wave my armored hand at the first group, "James, you attend them. Mac and I will help these few over here."

He goes, and a thought comes across my mind. It strikes me as odd that so few of these dozens of people are wounded...

Upon a moment of thinking, it is likely that those wounded in the invasion never had the chance to run. That's why only the militia is displaying major wounds. They hadn't had the advantage of our gear, and they had to fight longer than we had as well. We're lucky we only lost one of our own, the stupid bastard...

I hold back the water in my eyes just as Mac and I reach the wounded people we are to help. Mac, who had decided to change out of his armor for some reason, gets to them first and kneels down next to one, a young girl with a large gash going down her left leg and the pants torn at the knee point. She cowers slightly away from him as he does so, but the wounded adults next to her prevent her from scurrying away.

Mac gives the young child a reassuring smile as he pulls out the medical kit he brought, "Hey there, my name's Mac and I'm here to help you. What's your name?"

The girl shrivels into a ball as I finally reach them, having had issues getting through the packed people in this giant suit. Mac holds a hand back out to me, signaling that I should stop and stay still, before speaking to the child in a kind voice, "Come on, it's okay. No one is going to hurt you here. It's our job to make sure you're okay."

That's why he removed his armor. My monstrous size in this thing scared the child, who no doubt was suffering from some kind of trauma after this whole event. I'm no head shrink person, but I can understand that much.

After a moment the child retracts her head from her fetal position, it coming to my notice that she hadn't pulled one leg into it, "My leg...the ceiling fell on it and I can't move it now. The others carried me."

I go about helping the adults beside the child, none of them resembling her in the slightest. Wherever her parents are, these are not them. The two men and one woman all have dark black hair, while the girl has red...ish hair. I'll admit I've never learned much about those gene things Paul knows about with his education...

The adults stay silent as Mac continues to talk with the girl, reaching into his medical kit while he does so, "Sounds like you've got some good friends," he pulls out a syringe from it and injects it into her leg slowly, the girl whimpering slightly as he does so, "There, does that feel any better?"

She takes a moment, but she nods affirmatively to him, "Yes, mister soldier."

The older soldier keeps his relaxed smile on his face, all the while cleaning up the wound on her broken leg with some of his other tools, "Come on, the name's just Mac. You don't have to be all formal."

"Mister Mac...where is my mommy?"

My stomach falls when I realize I was right about the parent issue. The previously withheld water dribbles down my cheeks inside of my helmet, none able to take notice of it but me.

Mac looks around and behind his shoulder, still speaking in that same voice I'm not sure I could if I tried my hardest, "She isn't here?" after doing his mandatory look, he turns back to the child and continues his help to her, "Well I'm sure she's fine. When we all get out of here I'll make sure you get to see her. Okay?"

She shyly nods, not saying another word. Mac pats her on her red haired head and starts to get up, "That's a good girl. Now why don't you get some rest? We're going to be in for a long flight and you'll need your strength to get better."

"Will I be able to walk again?" she asks with her eyes focused on her broken and wounded leg, her small voice sounding so...sad.

I'm going to enjoy my next Zerg killing spree so, so much.

He lifts his hand from her head as I finish wrapping and disinfecting the other three's wounds, the adults giving a nod of thanks as I too rise. The child doesn't notice my presence this time, instead fully focused on Mac as he speaks again, "Of course you can, but you have to get better first."

"Okay...thank you, big mister Mac."

No others are calling for our medical aid, and a quick look around the room confirms that we aren't really needed now. We have other things to take care of anyways, so I find this lucky.

We depart without another word, Mac giving a wave to the young girl, and once we are far enough away from them I speak my mind, "You handled that well."

"Been a soldier many years more than you have. You pick up a thing or two," He chuckles at pats my armor on the back, surprisingly being able to reach high on it due to his tall form. While not the massive form that was our deceased leader, he still had managed a good seven feet of height. I had never really asked Gerolf what had made his height so freakish, and I guess I'll never be able to.

"Their mother is likely dead," no use denying the most likely of possibilities.

Mac gives me a slight stare, removing his hand from my back, "But they don't need to know that yet. Better to have hope than to give in because you lost everything and know it."

I let out a breath and look at the large man, his muscled form the only one on par with my own here, "You think he's still alive?"

He instantly picks up on what I'm asking, "Not a chance. If the crate didn't break his neck, the fall would have hurt him a bit even if it was only a few dozen feet. With the Zerg all around he wouldn't stand a chance," "Can't believe sheer dumb luck screwed him over. He took a hell of a beating before that, and to be killed so stupidly just seems wrong."

I don't get the chance to follow up on his statement, an excited voice breaking into our conversation, "All done here!"

I look over to James, who has finished patching up his group with those nanobite-things of his, and soon enough he hops over to where we are.

Our group reformed, James calls out to the crowd saying that if anyone needs additional medical aid to just come up front. None of the refugees respond, and we depart.

"Who is this speaking?"

We've reached the point where we can communicate over our ship's radio-thing, and so I did so at the first opportunity.

"We are a vessel that was visiting one of this planet's cities when it was attacked by the Zerg and we've come to warn you of their coming attack."

The person on the other line laughs, "This isn't a communication channel for jokes, sir, as good as that one was. I'm pretty sure if one of the other cities had been attacked we'd have gotten some sort of communication."

The transmission cuts out.

"Hello? Hello?" knowing that we were just hung up on, I slam a fist down, "Damnit!"

The others all realize what has happened, and I realize I should have maybe thought this through a little more. With a heavy sigh I announce, "Looks like we're going to be going in and sorting things out in person. The refugees in our ship should change their minds."

We receive another transmission from them, this time just as we approach the city.

It's not the kind one wants to get. In fact, it technically isn't even to us. It's just over the open channel and we hear it, knowing it is about us.

"It's a pirate ship! Take it down!"

This city, unlike the last, must be made of some more military minded people because the moment they yell that I notice gunfire erupt from turrets placed on the city's edge.

"Damn idiots, if they could just listen-" Mac's curse is cut short by Pierre, who steers the ship away from the gunfire and towards the nearby forest while he speaks.

"We can't approach them like this, and they are refusing all communications now. What do we do now? These people in charge are grade A idiots."

This whole situation is giving me a migraine. Why do people have to be distrustful, stupid morons at the worst of times? "When we get to a landing place, disembark and head to the city on foot. We have no idea how soon the Zerg will be here, so time is of the essence."

Fuck it, this whole mess is giving me a migraine if I'm going to be truthful. I'm no leader. I'm the muscle who does what he's told. The most complex thing I can imagine ordering someone to do is go beat some information out of someone else.

I thought I had everything in my life set already...I was to be the loyal second to my boss when he rose to be our family's boss. But he's gone and now I'm left in charge of a group of quiet guys who like fighting...what am I supposed to do now? Even if I get back home I'm finished. There is no way I'll be given any major positions or jobs anymore...not after I've fucked up this badly.

'Bring him back' was what boss's father said...that was my only job. Threatening the right people to end up on the military police's list of prospectful marines instead of the frontline ones, killing the sergeant who had their eye on us to be transferred...anything to let Gerolf live out his fantasy of being a positive influence in the world before bringing him back home to do his damn obligation to our family. Let him come back a war hero of sorts, but not the kind who died.

Then we left the marines. Then we got caught by Arcturus and his cronies...I'd thought back then that I had failed, since as our leader of dissidents Gerolf was sure to die. They thought the Icehouse would do it while also torturing him a bit. Of course it didn't though. You can't punish someone who has lived on the streets of Deadman's Port with mere harsh living conditions. Can't bring down someone who's so stubborn and headstrong that he'll live just to prove you wrong.

We're both living proof of that...or we were at least. He did what he always wanted: to be the hero. Damn bastard never knew when to stop. Be it being the knight in shining armor to a deranged and resocialized lieutenant, fighting pirates every now and again to clean the sector up or fucking leaving this ship to go save some children who will likely fucking die before they ever accomplish anything, he never could think things through. If I had to choose between that small child in the back who Mac helped or my leader, I would pick the damned man any day. But he had to play hero. He had to live up to his father's expectations, who wouldn't have forgave us for just turning our backs on people in need. That's why Gerolf is my boss after all, the good will of the man who rose him. But after a damn bad hand of life, my boss got himself in over his head in a fight he never should have started. And...

I feel my head sink into my armored chest.

And...now my best friend is gone.

A/N: No Zerg you say? Prespostorous? Hahaha...there's a good reason for that. Look at the chapter's title. This chapter and the next take place basically side by side time-wise, although the next one has more events and thus will be a great deal longer. And it'll have Zerg the whole way through. I wanted to do this split for quite some time, and so I did it. Part of the reason the chapter was harder to write, actually. I guess I'll have to get used to writing one perspective per chapter pretty soon though...

Cookies for whoever guesses the next few chapter titles. There is a trend behind them. In fact, someone with a great deal of fridge brilliance can determine just about everything that'll happen in the next chapter as well as the chapter that ends this first act, chapter 25.

I hope everyone is doing well (or at least better than me) and I hope to hear from those of you who still remain! See you next time, and hopefully that will be within a week rather than within a season! Thanks again for reading!