A few notes:

I do not own Command & Conquer, Tiberian Sun, or Firestorm, nor do I claim to. Based on my opinion, some aspects of the games have been changed to suit the story I want.

Additional information on this story can be found on my profile. I suggest you read it.

Warning! May contain excessive cursing.

You have my sincere thanks for viewing my story! I would greatly appreciate any reviews – after you've read what I have, of course. R&R, basically. Enjoy!

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Hyaka saw the black claw emerge from the darkness, and he immediately knew what it was. The sound of rocks in a wooden jar – the rattle of bony plates – broke the stillness, and he shoved Rico aside. Flat, sharp spikes, like the plates on the back of a stegosaurus, glowing eerily, embedded themselves in his left forearm – where Rico's head had been a split second ago. Hyaka winced, refusing to examine the wound. The only thing on his mind was how he would deal with the recoil of his weapon.

Rico looked up, startled to see blood dripping from the tips of the plates in Hyaka's arm. He saw the claw and scrambled to his feet, dragging his launched back to his shoulder. At that moment, two tiberium fiends emerged. They were completely black in the armour that encased their bodies, and seemed to be crosses between hedgehogs, with the legs of bears and the talons of a velociraptor. They had gently-pulsing plates on their backs into of needles, and ghostly green eyes.

"Pigs?" Rico said sarcastically, referring to the indeed-pig-like snout.

Hyaka responded by swearing and sent a rocket at the closest boar monster. He stumbled back, and fired another before the other one could react.

Rico slammed his left hand against the bottom of the shaft and pulled the trigger twice before retreating a few steps. Hyaka fell in beside him, still cursing. Without the full use of his entire body, his right arm was taking too much weight, as well as with his left leg for one too many wrong steps in an effort to support himself. "Damn! I hope you can make this up, Rico," he muttered, and Rico asked, "Has is occurred to you that you can put it down?"

"Are you out of your - " Hyaka and Rico dropped low on their knees as a sudden barrage of spikes passed overhead. "Wait… a moment…" Hyaka glanced up, then at where he would believe the creatures were, assuming they were together. "Firepower isn't going to be as effective." He looked at Rico fearlessly. "Empty your ammo."

"What - ?"

"I said fucking empty – "

"Alright! Alright! I heard you," Rico said hastily, pulling open the slide and retrieving the unused rockets. He secured them in the pack on his back. He was about to close it when Hyaka took the launcher from his hands. "Hey, I better get it back –"

"You won't be."

"You've gotta be kidding."

"Too bad for you I'm not."

"What's wrong with you? You won't put yours on the ground but you'd destroy mine without a second thought?"

"Yours is an older model – no one'll miss it."

"They'll say that if I can't take care of an old one I can't take care of a new one!"

"And maybe you can't," Hyaka replied, abruptly shoving the launcher back into Rico's hands.

Rico looked at it, uncertain of what to think, then looked at his comrade suspiciously. "What's you do to it?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

"Sure?"

"Are you English-incompetent?"

Rico turned away.

Hyaka returned his attention to the dispersing cloud of smoke, noting a pair of green slits gazing out somewhat nonchalantly. "Make yourself useful and take some of the recoil."

Rico grumbled a complaint but did not protest. He threw himself on Hyaka's right and steadied the launcher on the other soldier's shoulder with his left hand, using the other to stiffen the end in case it decided to try blowing Hyaka's arm off in the opposite direction. Then he mutter, "Selfish, ain'tcha? Doing all that just so it had to be quicker to use yours."

The soft voice, slightly raspy, that replied sounded almost distant and lost in the darkness. "Mistakes have been made, are being made, and will always be made. Failure is the only thing that changes the ways of humans." There was a pause, and the launcher shifted somewhat. "Even I make mistakes." Hyaka was suddenly leaning heavily on Rico, having just narrowly avoided a volley of spikes that were now half-hidden in the ground behind them. With obvious difficulty, he hauled himself back upright, then asked, "Ready?" Without waiting for an answer he pulled the trigger twice and was thrown a full length with a bewildered Rico in tow.

"The hell-?" They yelled at each other, flung into the sand.

Hyaka lay still, his shades fallen beside his head and his weapon an unpleasant weight against his chest. When the dust around them settled he opened one eye to glance at his comrade's condition. "You know you're supposed to be ready at all times." Rico sat up quickly, on the look out for enemies, and said, "One more second and I'd've been ready."

"Sometimes you don't get any seconds, Rico."

Rico shook his head in sad realization and knowing, and swallowed the protest that had risen in his throat despite the argument that so much wanted to escape. He occupied himself by examining the other soldier's wound. "Shouldn't we dress that?" he asked. The plates had dulled to a gloomy green under the thick red liquid, both fresh and dry, that had seeped over them. Just attempting to imagine what the pain was like made him shiver, but Hyaka did not seem too bothered by it besides the fact that he could not use that arm much. Until now.

Hyaka suddenly groaned and rolled over onto his side, allowing his left arm to sit loosely. The spikes were clearly heavy, and likely painful. His launcher clanked to the ground like a dark bell, heavily muffled, in front of him. His shades, behind him now, stood forgotten, lonely, and foreign. He was already curling into a ball of protection, as if that injury would simply vanish into the darkness if he shut off all connection to the world.

Rico straightened even more, alarmed. He was no expert, but his comrade was obviously suffering. He didn't have a first aid kit, nor did he know how to treat such a wound. Where was a medic when you needed one? And why had they been sent out as a pair? Why not a trio?

"Because… we are disposable…"

Rico jumped, realizing that he had been thinking aloud. It surprised him that Hyaka could even speak. His partner had managed to partly control himself, and was clutching his left elbow with his right hand so hard that the blood flow had slowed.

"Generally… no one really cares except those close to us… or if we are killed in the masses. After all… NOD pays to use us." Rico nodded grimly at this. "We don't get paid for this… not really. Some people can't understand why we do it. It's just…" At that moment the rumble of a subterranean vehicle emerging from below interrupted, and the mighty drill appeared first, twirling furiously, followed by the body. It had the make of a termite minus its legs, and was complexly painted in reds and blacks. "… a subterranean APC?"

"Not just a subterranean APC," Rico said excitedly, "…reinforcements."