2 klicks from Skull Makers camp. Classified colony, Leelo System, Hemia Cluster, Tortsinan Empire territories

  August 6th, 2505

  It took a few days for the mission to go green-light. Preparations and inspections had to be made, which included adding the H’ikene O’Ren G’Aat to the equation. Platoon 1, B Company, of the Hell-Takers Battalion were 2 klicks, south-east side, overlooking on a vantage point to the camp held by the raiders. What made it distinctive is the amount of skulls strewn across the area. Dust-weathered skulls of all shapes and sizes, a few so small you could palm it, covered in fracture marks, drill holes, and other signs of laboriously slow death

  Those raiders been a thorn to the Hell-Takers for quite a while, though it was to be expected as as the battalion was a penal unit sent to this classified high-priority Imperial colony as punishment for supposed misconducts in the Imperium’s Army. And despite the Imperium’s security efforts in their colonies, piracy, terrorism, raiding, and other belligerent acts are a fact of life even beyond the Tartarus Sectors.

  However, this mission was less about the Raiders and more about the Crimson Iron outpost that had an underground tunnel connected to this camp they’re about to assault.

  On the north-west side, 1 klick from the camp, Ranger Grim and O’Ren G’Aat scouted for viable flanking positions through their binoculars. The camp was filled with makeshift walls as defensive measure, though the south-east side was open. An opportunity.

  Ranger Grim took off her binoculars for a moment, and eyed on G’Aat who was a few feet away from her left while he was setting up his anti-encryption software. True to his species, he sported a dark-red metallic carapace, two arms on each side that are tipped with four small claws, and a pair of legs. Of course, the H’ikene’s distinctive feature being that they have three eyes on each side, allowing the species to see more around their surroundings than what an average humanoid species could do.

  G’Aat looked at her, then chirped.

  “First time meeting a H’ikene, yes?” G’Aat asked. Grim chuckled. “Yeah, most assignments had me in the battlefield, so not a lot of time to hang out with other species who are with us in the Frontier.”

  “Hmmm, Frontier Regions...” G’Aat inquired. Grim nodded.

  “Hard-working, resilient people. Fighting against giants. Struggles stretching years.” G’Aat mused, Grim silently deduced he’s speaking about the decades-long struggle the FDA against the UHD. It is no hidden secret as it is currently the hot topic across many regions of the galaxy, with some institutions and societies analyzing and debating whether the war would be the death-knell for humanity as an interstellar superpower.

  “You were scouting at the Skull-Makers camp, yes?” G’Aat inquired to Grim. “Skull-Makers?” She asked.

  G’Aat silently chirped “Belligerent raiders. Decapitate their victims, boil their skulls, then display them at camps to intimidate and scare us. But with you and the Hell-Takers, they shouldn’t be anything but a nuisance, yes?”

  Grim looked back to the camp, keeping an eye on any Skull-Maker patrol. A pair was seen walking near the south-east side of their camp wearing a necklace filled with jaw-bones while one was at a vantage point at a pre-fab building. Most likely something they stole from the settlements. She was waiting for a call from Lieutenant Colonel Astrid Wallin, the “Hell-Takers” Battalion Commander, to make their move. She hoped that O’Ren G’Aat was right about his assessment

  G’Aat was by Grim’s side, looking at the camp. “Worried for plan not to go right, hmm?” He asked.

  “No plan survives contact with the enemy, G’Aat.” Grim stated nonchalantly. G’Aat chirped again, sounded like a chuckle. “Please, call me O’Ren. We are after all, comrades, like you humans say it.”

  “Right.” Grim paid no attention, focusing her eyes on the camp. “Not the talkative type, hmmm….” G’Aat mused. “I’ll leave you be.” The H’ikene backed up and continued working on his tech. [J-71 Actual to Grim. J-71 Actual to Grim. Do you copy?] Ranger Grim’s COMM crackled from the Colonel’s call. “Copy, Actual. What’s the news?” Grim responded.

  [Armor and Artillery from B-Company; 2nd Platoon, Anti-Air from A-Company; 3rd Platoon are near the Crimson Iron outpost, 2 klicks. I need you and O’Ren to head to the camp immediately, eliminate any Skull-Maker assholes there, and terminate their communications. You’ll be supported by Sniper elements on the north-east and south-west. Once that’s done, you confirm so Bravo’s Artillery can lay down fire. Once you confirm you’re inside the outpost, we’ll hold fire and focus on the ground.]

  This was a risky plan, and Grim knew it. Chances were likely that the artillery barrage would hit the Crimson Iron’s outpost, tear it down completely, and depriving Grim gathering intel inside there.

  Still, the Colonel’s voice showed vigor and determination to put the enemy in their place. And Grim had no room to argue when this is the moment. “Got it, we’ll head there now. Out.” Grim ended the call and looked at O’Ren “G’Aat?”

  “O’Ren!” He shouted in frustration. Grim groaned slightly, “O’Ren, is your software ready?”

  “Indeed so. Are we on the move?” O’Ren asked. Grim nodded. The H’ikene narrowed his eyes. “This shall be fun.”

  Grim’s COMM crackled with another call [Grim, are you there?]. It was Captain Roderick Jones. Grim sighed “Can it wait, Captain? Me and O’Ren were supposed to make way to the camp a minute ago.”

  “I know, this is why I called you about him. Sergeant Amsler requested me that you try to keep O’Ren safe. If something happens to him…” He didn’t have to say more for Grim to know what Amsler requested of her. Given the sergeant’s devotion to protecting civilian life, the notion of someone dying under her watch is unacceptable and intolerable.

  O’Ren was of course hearing this, as he was equipped and connected to the battalion’s comm channels. “Captain Roderick Jones. Sergeant Erica Amsler should not worry for me. I knew what I volunteered for. And if I die protecting my beloved, my hatchlings…” He paused a moment, then chirped “Then it is a death I earned well. It is not a burden she should bear alone.”

  There was a pause for a moment, then a sigh [I understand. Grim, O’Ren, give those Crimson Iron/Skull-Makers bastards hell.]

  “With pleasure.” Grim answered, then the call ended. She glanced again to O’Ren, who was looking towards her with determination. Both nodded, then moved ahead towards the objective.

  Time to teach those mercs/raiders a well-remembered lesson.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  2 Klicks from the Crimson Iron outpost

  It has been around 15 minutes of waiting in the sands only a few klicks from their target. Captain Roderick Jones of the 2nd Platoon, B-Company, took his breaths face down in the sands not far from the Crimson Iron outpost. Tension hung around him and his unit like a guillotine falling down their necks. The battle ahead would be heavy, and Jones knew that. He knew that one way or another, there’ll be casualties and there’s no avoiding that. He brought a rosary from his neck and gave it a smooch, praying for his Lord to keep him and his unit safe. He brought his binoculars, where he saw several patrols consisting of personnel and a couple of vehicles around the north-west and south-east perimeters. Putting the binoculars away, he then unsheathed his tablet, the red circle he saw on the screen was the area that represented the Crimson Iron base. It’s the area of operation for the Hell-Takers and the 2nd Platoon was ordered to hit the areas surrounding the base. Suppress the enemy and prevent them from flanking

  A comm crackled in his ear, [Captain Jones, how copy? Over.]. It didn’t take long for him to register the voice, as it happened to be B-Company’s Commander Officer, Major Frederik Howe, His superior.

  “Artillery is in position and the armor is on hold. Over.” Jones answered, his breathes heavy, awaiting for his next order.

  [Got confirmation from the Colonel, The Ranger and her teammate have spoofed the communication system. You have greenlight. Out!]

  The call went off, and the Captain took a light breath. This was the moment. “Hogwild 1 and 2, come in.” Jones radioed in. The comm crackled on his ear, [Hogwild 1 here, ‘Cap. What’s the order?] Hogwild 1 spoke, his voice was outgoing and casual

  “We got the greenlight. Ready the cannons.” Jones spoke to them.

  [Affirmative. Readying the cannons now.] Hogwild 1 confirmed. Through his binoculars, he saw the two artillery cannons around north-west from his current position. They were in the back of the four-wheeled Hogwild vehicle, lifting up slowly to unleash fire.

  The lifting process was finished in seconds, with Jones’ comm crackling again [Cannons are ready. Standing by for fire order, ‘Cap.] Hogwild 1 spoke.

  Jones used the binoculars, then marked the perimeter around the Crimson Iron base. [Firing locations confirmed, Captain. Ready on your mark.] Hogwild 2 spoke, his voice was more formal and no-nonsense.

  “Mark!” Jones shouted, and the artillery’s boom reverberated as they were fired from the Hogwilds into their intended location. Within seconds, the artillery had hit the perimeter around south-east and north-west, decimating the patrols.

  [Weapons free! Weapons free!] Colonel Astrid Wallin’s voice shouted through the overall Battalion’s comm channels. Volley of mortar/tank fire, ballistic, and plasma perforated the perimeter in and around the base. Crimson Iron’s wasn’t holding back either, a harmony of ballistics, plasma, and turret systems sang against the Hell-Takers.

  Captain Jones was prone, assisting his platoon in suppressing the enemy while Hogwild 1 and 2 kept firing, reloading with each fire. He heard grunts and screams across the battalion’s comm channels, but focused more on his task ahead.

  Then that crackle again from his comm came on, [Grim to Jones. Are you there? Over.]

  Jones groaned, then answered “Kind of busy right now, Ranger.”

  [I know. I need your artillery to hold fire and fall back. Crimson Iron is sending four aircrafts against you.] Grim warned.

  “Fuck!” Jones hissed. “Alright, where are you, now?”

  [Inside the base’s command center. Got the intel.] Grim answered nonchalantly. “And O’Ren?”

  Grim was silent for a few seconds, and there was only one conclusion.

  “Shite… how did it happen?” Jones shut his eyes, his breath went heavy.

  [It’s my fault. I’ll tell you after the mission. Out.] Grim ended the call, and Jones was left to wonder whether he could tell Sergeant Amsler and Corporal Gallo about what happened to O’Ren G’Aat. For what it’s worth, he doesn’t blame the Ranger. War doesn’t care who it kills, for it is indiscriminate to its victims.

  [Recon 1 to Captain Jones, come in!] Jones heard the call, and knew who it was. “Captain Jones here. What do you have, Recon 1?” His tone was weary in his inquiry.

  [We’re on the cliffs, overlooking the entire base. I’ve marked it for orbital bombardment to the Colonel. She’ll handle the rest.] Amsler noticed the weariness on her CO, but paid no mind. Indeed, the Hell-Takers have an orbital station in the colony’s orbit, as insurance policy. They never used it before. A first time for everything.

  “Excellent work. Stay hidden and don’t move, Crimson Iron are sending four aircrafts on us at any minute.”

  Jones could hear Amsler’s sigh [Nothing’s ever easy, is it, Captain?]

  “Why else would we call ourselves Hell-Takers?” The Captain’s sardonic laughter

  [What about Ranger Grim and O’Ren G’Aat, sir?] Corporal Gallo’s inquiry made Jones flinch slightly. He took a deep breath, “Grim just called me. She’s in the base’s command center and got the intel she needed.”

  [And O’Ren?] Amsler inquired as well. He couldn’t keep her out of the loop, “I’m sorry, he didn’t make it.”

  Silence met in the comms for a few seconds, until… [Dammit! I knew this would happen. I just knew…] Amsler shouted in frustration.

  [Easy, Sarge. It’s not your fault.] Gallo tried to defuse the tension. [How are we supposed to tell his progeny that they’re no longer going to see their father? They’ll pin the blame on us, Victor. And we’d deserve it. We shouldn’t have let him….]

  “I know you’re hurt right now, Sergeant.” Captain Jones gently interrupted “But I need you to stay focused. Stay hidden, don’t make a noise.”

  [Sorry, sir.] Sergeant Amsler understood the order and stood down.

  [Stay safe, Captain] Corporal Gallo sent his regards, then the comm went off. It was just the Captain, his platoon, and the Battalion’s channels going through his ear.

  Then in a hail of gunfire, Jones saw two-rotary wing aircrafts painted in Crimson sweeping through the Battalion’s lines.

  “Fall back! Get your anti-aircraft in gears, everyone! Take down those fucking aircrafts!” The 1st Platoon and the remainder of the battalion fell back to avoid further volley from the aircrafts. A few dozen soldiers weren’t so lucky before the order, they were just left in viscera and gore.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  This battle would become one of tenacity and bravery.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  30 minutes earlier

  Near the tunnel entrance to Crimson Iron’s base.

  The tunnel network was not as guarded as Ranger Grim expected. Given what the Crimson Iron were guarding, she was expecting a sizable well-armed patrol. But that didn’t matter now, she felt the ground shake thanks to the artillery fire from the Hell-Takers on the other side. Infiltration was off the table. Furthermore, the camp was cleared thanks to Grim’s tenacity and assistance from Hell-Taker sniper elements. O’Ren’s part in spoofing the communication were the reason why he and the Ranger are feeling the ground shaking.

  Meanwhile, O’Ren G’Aat worked his way get the door open that’ll take them to the Crimson Iron base. “Not what you expected it to be, hmm? Do you Rangers go looking for the thrill of battle?” O’Ren’s inquiry got Grim’s attention. She looked sharply at him, then scoffed “Not always. Sometimes, it’s about recon and gathering intel. No kills.”

  O’Ren breathed. “Indeed. I have heard stories about you. Including the most prominent Ranger among your group. Colonel Malcolm Hawkins. Known as well as Sparrow.”

  Grim shifted her head. “Yeah?”

  She’s familiar with who Malcom is, not just his accomplishments, but also his family name.

  “Best Ranger among the ranks of STR. Founded the organization, was one of the founding members of Frontier Defense Alliance. Helped in defeating the Cyberis during the second war.”

  O’Ren talked of the man like he’s a legend, while Grim listened. Indeed, the STR venerated Sparrow as a legend. The shining star, the template for every value that Rangers hold dear to, the person whom every Ranger strives to be.

  O’Ren took a breath, then continued “But also notorious in reputation. Decimated populated planets taken over by the Cyberis, as mercy kill for the settlers from torture and misery by those horrific cyborgs. Showed no mercy to the Cyberis. Cold, ruthless, and calculated.”

  Grim shifted her head again, then nodded. Special Tactics Recon do idolize Sparrow, but he’s not without controversy. His actions were met with outcry in later years after the second Cyberis War. Fiery debates were met. In fact, his family line over the next generations were met with suspicion and mistrust. With time, that mostly disappeared, though there was the fear whether his descendants will follow his footsteps. Given that Kate Hawkins is well known among the community in Primoor and her status as a Ranger, that fear is still there.

  O’Ren narrowed his eyes at the Ranger “Understand, Ranger Grim, that I do not hate the Sparrow. He was ruthless and cold, yes. But… I understand why he made those actions. The Cyberis are, for the most part, cruel and nefarious. Their hatred for organics, their relentless crusade to turn our galaxy into a post-organic society… He wanted to keep them at bay.”

  Grim nodded “Yeah…”

  After much time, O’Ren’s hack got the door open. Ranger Grim took lead while O’Ren stayed back. Sweeping through the stairs, she looked left and right at what looked like a maintenance room. “Clear.” Grim gestured at him to follow.

  “Back on mission, then.” O’Ren stated nonchalantly, readying his rifle. Grim took a peek at it before. The ergonomics looked to be built for H’ikene. Long handguard, and hider on the muzzle. Stock combined with the rear grip. Square-like side magazine.

  “Hey!” A Crimson Iron merc spotted the two, aiming his pistol at them. With a trigger pull, direct energy fire hit the merc in the chest and collapsed. Thankfully, he was only wearing the dress uniform, as that firing killed him immediately.

  “Thanks.” Grim nodded at O’Ren.

  “We should move out, immediately. They’ll find the body sooner or later.” O’Ren was correct, and Grim took the lead to move out of the maintenance room. Outside, they were in the hangar bay and saw four aircrafts on their landing pads. Foot mobiles weren’t here, which made it easier. But the aircrafts were a problem.

  “Should we warn them?” Grim asked. O’Ren shook his head, “No time. We need to head to the command center and get the information.”

  Grim saw a closed bay door above her. It would take some time before Crimson Iron got their aircraft to launch. She and O’Ren moved ahead to the door on the north-west. The door hissed, and two Crimson Iron mercs came out. They were in banter, though they were alerted when they saw two tangos running ahead. “You. Stop!” One merc ordered.

  Plasma and ballistics screamed towards them, and found purchase in their head. The mercs were down while the Ranger and the H’ikene made it inside.

  One camera saw the bodies, then the alarm blared. “Warning. Hostiles inside the base. Hostiles inside the base.”

  Grim hissed, knowing there are other mercs out looking for blood. They went to the left, taking their route to the command center. Through the tunnel, they saw the door. A dozen mercs came out and opened fire. Grim and O’Ren took cover at the crates, though they were under suppressive fire. “Got any ideas, Ranger?” O’Ren shouted.

  Grim peeked at a few explosive barrels that were just beside the trucks the mercs took cover at. “Yeah, explosive barrels near those trucks these idiots stopped by. I’m gonna set them up.”

  “I hope you do not collapse the tunnel while you’re at it.” O’Ren keenly remarked at the Ranger.

  “Bite me, O’Ren!” Grim shouted at the H’ikene, made him chuckle. She ran straight through another crate, just a dozen meters from the trucks and explosive barrels. Rounds from her DA85 Assault Rifle pincered the barrels, made an explosive solution that equaled in the truck’s destruction and the mercs over there dead.

  The remaining mercs panicked and dispersed. O’Ren took the advantage, then peppered them with his rifle, leaving collapsed with burn marks in their chests. Grim ran from her cover towards the door in front with the H’ikene following her lead. Stacked by the door, they move in and find themselves in the command center. It was circular, filled with three screens and windows showing the base’s exterior. There was also the CRC, Combat Readiness Computer, on the middle, with three large monitors hanging above it.

  One merc was in there, but he surrendered and put himself down to the ground. Smart move, but they weren’t taking any chances, so O’Ren restrained him with energy-chains. Grim inspected the merc for anything useful, finding a drive with in his shirt pocket. She took it and inserted to a plug in the CRC, awaiting for what intel it got.

  O’Ren swept through the circular command center and kept an eye on the windows. He saw a screen, where it revealed a camera feed of the aircraft landing pads already on exterior and ready to launch.

  “Damnation! Look.” O’Ren gestured to Grim to see what’s on the other screen. “Fuck!” Grim hissed.

  “You can’t win, Ranger. We already moved our schedule.” The imprisoned merc taunted them. Grim didn’t respond, aware that their prisoner was trying to provoke them.

  O’Ren looked at the controls and saw that the command center’s systems were more dense than he thought. “I will disable the countermeasures and allow you to warn the battalion. Download what you got from the drive.”

  “My friends are coming. They will kill you all.” The merc growled, hoped his taunts would provoke them. Grim grabbed his head and twisted it, then he collapsed. “Tell them to meet their maker.” Grim remarked.

  She focused on the drive she inserted, and kept an eye on the three monitors above. 12 Thermonuclear bombs marked with Tortsinan Imperium’s serial numbers. And they’re ready to be transported at 12 FDA colonies.

  Elysium, Skylis, Marv, Ram, Polit, Gava, Odis, Yuma, Jaspar, Kialo, Esra, and Eridani.

  “Aquila, download all the data to my TACPAD.” Grim whispered to the AI.

  “Affirmative. Download initiated.” Aquila pinged on her helmet. A few seconds later “Download complete.”

  “Thanks, Aquila.” Grim whispered. Aquila chirped “Have a pleasant day, Ranger.”

  Aquila went silent, and Grim took the drive with her and kept it in her pocket as backup, just in case.

  “Ranger. The countermeasure is terminated, but you only have three minutes before they…” O’Ren informed Grim, were he would’ve said more if not for the projectile that him in the back. He collapsed on the ground, and Grim instinctively took cover on CRC from enemy fire. She threw a flash grenade at the armed mercs.

  As soon the bang sounded off, Grim took aim and fired at the merc squad, perforated then collapsed in seconds. After that was done, she checked on O’Ren’s wounds. The hole where his carapace got shot at was of directed-energy fire. He was bleeding pretty badly.

  “A shot from a coward.” He wheezed. In each breath, he continued to wheeze and cough.

  Aquila pinged. “His vitals are critical. He won’t make it.” The AI informed.

  “Do not mourn for me, Ranger Grim. I did my duty as what would any citizen of the Imperium. Bravery and sacrifice in service for the community, my people, my family.” His breath was very weak.

  “Tell my progeny, tell my beloved… Tell them I died well.” A final wheeze, then a final breath. O’Ren eyes were closed, soon to meet with the afterlife.

  “Vitals are at zero. He’s dead.” Aquila pinged. Grim nodded. She saw the aircraft engine spooling. A few seconds later, they launched into the air. The Ranger called up Captain Roderick Jones “Grim to Captain Jones, are you there? Over.”

  Shortly after [Kind of busy right now, Ranger.] Jones answered. Grim would’ve sighed in relief, but there was a matter of the aircrafts at hand. “I know. I need your artillery to hold fire and your platoon to fall back. Crimson Iron is sending four aircrafts against you”.

  [Fuck! And O’Ren?] Jones asked of the H’ikene’s status. Grim couldn’t say anything, how could she? O’Ren’s dead. The silence only took a few seconds for Jones to know what happened. [Shite… how did it happen?]

  Grim sighed “It’s my fault. I’ll tell you after the mission. Out.”

  After Grim finished her call with the Captain, she got another call from Colonel Astrid Wallin [Come in, Ranger. Come in!]

  “I’m here, Colonel Wallin. What is it?” Grim answered promptly. [Recon have marked the base for orbital bombardment. You have three minutes before the orbital strike takes the entire base. You’d prefer not get disintegrated, would you?]

  Grim chuckled grimly. “Indeed not. I’ve got the intel I need. About the aircrafts…”

  [I know. The unit is falling back and we’re readying our anti-craft fire to shut those pesky fuckers down. Get out of this base, fast!]

  The call shut down, leaving Grim to kneel as she picked up O’Ren’s body and putting it on her left shoulder. “Ranger, is this necessary? This will only slow you down.” Aquila pinged, voicing her concern.

  “He deserves a proper burial.” Grim moved out from the command center, alarms blaring across the base. “Warning. Orbital bombardment imminent. All personnel must evacuate immediately.” The Public Announcement system blared as well. Grim held her comrade’s body tight while running back to the maintenance exit. O’Ren’s body felt heavy, but she pushed through. There were a few mercs, but were too busy in their evacuation process.

  Grim ran her way across the tunnel network as fast as she could. Then, shae made it out to the camp, gently putting O’Ren’s body on the ground with only 10 seconds left on the clock. She saw the bombardment’s visual, and felt it when the ground shook heavily. She steadied her posture, and avoided falling down and get herself hurt.

  [Sniper Element 1 to Ranger Grim. Are you there? Over.] Grim’s COMM crackled. She would’ve been that the Snipers were still nearby, but figured they’d stay to make sure.

  “I’m in Skull-Makers camp, Element 1. I’m okay. Over.” She promptly answered

  [What is O’Ren G’Aat’s status? Over.] Element 1 asked again. Grim looked at O’Ren’s body, and sighed. “KIA.” Nothing more needed to be said.

  A few seconds of silence later [Understood. We’ll have medevac retrieve his body for burial. Out.]

  Grim’s COMM went silent again. She laid down on the ground, not minding the bodies of dead Skull-Maker raiders nearby and focused her eyes on the red-filled sky. The stars made it look prettier, as it often referred to as hell.

  There was a lesson Grim learned during her upbringing, memories of a life long past that she’d rather forget. It was simple, really. “The galaxy is cruel and unforgiving.” A statement that usually permeated in her mind. And in this moment, she felt that statement heavily.

  Grim’s COMM crackled once again [Grim, are you there? It’s Captain Roderick Jones. We did it, Ranger. We took down their aircrafts and their base is decimated. What’s your status?]

  Grim stood up, hearing Jones’s voice turned her melancholy to relief. “Thank god you’re alive, Captain. I’m at the Skull-Maker camp with O’Ren’s body beside me. I’m.. okay.”

  [You sprinted all the way from the base to the camp while carrying him? Shite, you must be tougher than I thought.] Captain Jones gasped.

  “I wasn’t gonna leave him behind and let him become part of the debris. He deserves a proper burial.” Grim stated plainly. [Ah, I see. So you are a softie underneath that rugged Woman of Mystery persona.]

  “Shut up, Captain.” Grim sassed, but was amused nonetheless.

  [Alright, sit tight, Ranger. We’ll have VTOL extract you back to base in 15 minutes. Out.]

  Grim sat down, then blew out a breath. She looked at O’Ren’s dead body, then smiled slightly. “You died well, O’Ren. You did your progeny proud.” She murmured, and hoped he’d be hearing her in whatever form of afterlife he believed in.

  As she awaited for the extraction, Grim chuckled. She couldn’t help herself. In some way, she expected the worst. She expected this battle would have the Hell-Takers nearly wiped out. Instead, she felt amusem