Shar'khee paced back and forth beside her beloved sprawling nest of blankets and mattresses, eyes focused on nothing in particular. She hunched underneath the ceiling, face purple under a blush and tail wrapped around her waist. Her stomach bore the heat of a fire too hot, an uncomfortable pressure within waiting for a release.

She could not lay down, not with such feelings in her. Nor when she felt so close to knowing what she needed. For all Cera told the paladin about herself, the way her dearest Harrison fit into such was not clear. There were only two star-sents who knew… and one promised to explain why Shar'khee felt so tense in her skin.

…Why her stomach burns and writhes with a need. Why the Creator sparks such a thirst within her. Why the shocks between her hips inhibit her ability to even teach the new ones, much less perform well in combat.

So she waited… For an answer. For a release. For what she knew she needed.

And, as if the Goddess of the Winds heard her crying thoughts, the door to the bunk room opened. Tracy, clothed with no more than the most basic undergarments—at least, for her and her breasts—stepped into the room. Her moist and glossy-black hair glistened under the light. She locked eyes with the paladin, pausing the Malkrin's pace entirely.

The Artificer smiled. "Hey, Shar-Shar…" And it dropped into a concerned frown. "What's got you so tense?"

"I…" Shar'khee faltered, anxiously clacking her talons together. "You promised to teach me how to 'sex' a star-sent."

A deep red washed over Tracy's white skin as she silently pressed the door pad to shut it closed behind her. She took a few steps forward.

The paladin continued, knowing she was not to leave a sliver of her thoughts hidden from her mates. The pressure within forced her words ever faster. "I-I spoke with Cera, but… I feel as if my body is without rest. I need something else. I need Harrison. You. But you also need that something. The star-sents are different, so nothing is certain… A-And I am left feeling unsure and flustered all of the time. Especially when you offered our dearest to mate with us the other evening. I was without a release for these fires within me, I—"

"Shar," the Artificer gently interrupted, hands held out to calm the overwrought mate. "Slow down. You're alright. Just slow down. Sit down on the bed… Please?"

Shar'khee nodded, feeling restless as she found a seat, too unsettled to relax her back against the locker. Tracy let herself down across from her, taking in a deep breath.

"I think I know what you feel. Kinda… pent-up? Yearning?"

"Yes! That is quite apt," the paladin confirmed, staring into her entwined hands. "I know it must deal with mating. Yet, I am still ignorant of you star-sents—my mates. I do not wish to push my needs onto you, nor does it fill me with confidence in having to pester you with my foolish questions. The other night's excitement had me believe I would learn. That I would be able to piece together what I need and how I can satisfy my mates, but now… Forgive me, I do not wish to be so obtrusive.

"It is just that I crave and burn so intensely, but I do not wish to be selfish. My dear mates are busy, and I do not know how to bridge this gap. That is all."

A warm hand gripped her weaved digits, softly pulling it down and dragging her attention to the soft smile of the Artificer. "You're not being selfish, dummy. And you're not asking 'foolish' questions. Or pushing your needs onto us… I know how you feel. Really."

Tracy crawled closer. She was so small, minuscule underneath the paladin, yet her palm on Shar'khee's thigh seemed to hit her heart with the strength of a machine. It siphoned off a hint of her restless heat and replaced it with a soothing warmth.

"You just want affection," the Artificer asserted, squeezing the maroon-skinned Malkrin's digits tight. "Plain and simple. There's nothing wrong with that. Seriously, nothing."

Shar'khee absently placed her arms around the smaller female, her words washing through the paladin in waves of gratification.

"I also want affection. Not just hugs and kisses and cuddles, but intimacy. Real love. I can see you do too. It's that desire for more, a physical need…" She looked away, tiredly biting her lip in thought. "We can't always get that kind of thing all the time. Harry-bear's busy keeping the settlement running. But, I know it's not like he doesn't feel like us."

Tracy leaned forward and poked Shar'khee's chest, smirking. "I know he wants to be satisfied like you do. What you want isn't exclusive to just you. Just don't beat yourself up or anything like that. Kay? I'm sorry I haven't helped you out, and I'm sorry Harrison and I… and you are busy all the time. Should've gone along to make you feel more comfortable a lot sooner."

The Malkrin shook her head and smiled, holding her mate tighter. The Artificer gave into the paladin's strength, letting her pull the small female into an embrace. She was warm. Very much so. Tracy's heat was wholesome and saturating, suffusing through Shar'khee like a shot of glorious star-sent 'painkiller.' It soothed the stiffness of her strained and taut limbs. "…It is nice to know I am not so alone in these needs… And that you accept them so readily."

The small female's hand roamed the paladin's chest muscles and around her neck, squeezing softly in tune with her sweet tone. "Of course I'd accept them… Listen, I'm not used to this kinda relationship. Or, relationships at all, really. I just know that I should be looking out for you two because I know you two are doing the same for me."

Shar'khee's ears shot up when a pair of lips pressed into her pectorals, while her body melted with the heater in her lap. "I would lay down my life for my mates. There should be no doubt in your heart that I am looking out for more than your well-being."

Tracy couldn't wrap her arms around the paladin, but still squeezed what she could. The maroon-skinned Malkrin wrapped her with her tail and did just the same. Silence filled in the gap of the conversation. Only soft, pleased breaths and the occasional groan of pipes reaching her ears.

Her restlessness had settled with the lovely star-sent's words and presence, yet… Goddess of the Winds, her stomach still burned with a desire. Perhaps even more now. There were still a final few queries that had gone unanswered, forgotten about for the last few minutes.

"Tracy?"

"Mmm?" the Artificer hummed back, already on the edge of slumber in the paladin's muscled bosom.

"I believe I am still left in ignorance. I understand you may be too tired, but perhaps… perhaps you could still explain to me how I may satisfy the needs of the star-sent… and my own."

She felt the tiny female tense and exhale deeply. Tracy looked up at her with a curious blush and interested smile. "M-Maybe I could show you some other time, but if you really wanna know, I think I'd be doing Harrison a solid by tellin' ya.

"…Myself too."

- - - - -

Shar'khee's tail swayed and her ears perked up at the sight of her dearest entering the room. A thousand thoughts battered her mind after hearing Tracy's descriptions of the fairer sex… She looked down to see even the Artificer staring him down.

But something was amiss behind his smile. An unseen trouble kept her alert as she held her hand out to her adored mate for him to lay down for the night. The tiny female quickly left her lap, freeing up its space for the male.

She pulled Harrison down into her, letting out a rumbling purr as soon as his head pressed into her chest. Tracy followed suit with another pull, completing a 'cuddle sandwich,' as the artificer would say, nesting her chin into the crook of his neck. The Artificer tiredly peppered his ears and cheek with star-sent kisses, whilst the paladin offered a long lick across his head in a successful aim to relax him further.

Shar'khee finally laid down with her precious cargo, letting the mattresses take in her frame and perfectly outline her weary limbs. The immediate closeness and safety of her mates almost lulled her into slumber upon her first blink.

And yet, no matter how much he flattened across her wide torso… his heartbeat still pounded uncontrollably. She felt it through his ribs and inside her own beating core. It was nothing like a rapid pattering pulse of love or… something more… No.

He was tense, far down within, and she felt every drop of it. The tips of his digits softly dug into where he held her. He did not shake, but every sigh of hot breath that rolled onto her skin was steeped with a restlessness she could not ignore. What was wrong?

In time, their pre-slumber excitement died down, and the three returned to their usual positions, with the paladin as the biggest spoon, and the artificer as the littlest. The lights were turned off and the room was comfortably dark. She hoped that his heart would settle in time, but through his slackened body, his pulse remained the same. Why? What spiked his nerves so?

Perhaps he felt a fraction of the similar internalized agitation the past few nights, but what about this evening? What burned through his mind?

"Dearest?" she whispered her intent into him, tenderly squeezing him.

"Mm?" he hummed back quietly so as not to wake the sleeping Artificer.

Shar'khee nuzzled her snout into his soft hair, which now smelled like her tongue—sugared glowberry desert, specifically. It was hard to suppress another instinctual lick before she reset herself with a gentle tone. "Are you okay? Your pulse is restless… Is there something amiss?"

Harrison shook his head, mumbling in the negative.

She massaged along his bicep and down onto his side, making small circles between his naval and hip as he would for her. "Are you sure? I can help with anything. You only need to tell me."

"S'fine. Don' worry," her mate whispered back. He pressed his head further back into her chest in an attempt to ease her.

But nothing helped his internalized struggle. She could feel it so clearly, so why did he not share it?

Was it an accumulation of stress? He could not be blamed for such… Not after the other nights.

That must be it.

A pang of sadness tugged at her heart. He said he never witnessed death until he was forced into Ershah. His star-sent comrades' passing unsettled him deeply, and killing the inquisitors shook him in a way she did not understand, but with the settlers… The tears he kept unshed would not be forgotten by her.

Shar'khee recalled how her village reacted to the death of a fisherwoman at the maws of a predator… The paladin was hardly sixteen winters old, having slain many heretics by then. The scent, sight, and feeling of the dead was more of an afterthought to the climax of the slaughter. She never thought of it as anything impactful other than the final ascension to the Mountain Lord's palace. Another part of the process… a means to an end.

But the way her village wept and hummed songs of mourning that spring would still ring in her ears. It was the first time she was bathed in the emotions of others so thoroughly. The other pups and juveniles she had begun to be fond of leaked from their eyes like no other… and she felt it. A pang of woe in faint reflection to them.

She did not interact with that fisherwoman, but the sight of her comrades and the thought of truly never seeing that female again stung and twisted around her heart. And now, comparing the swelling of tears in the eyes of her true beloved… Goddess, it hurt all the more.

…But that was a different emotion entirely. The pounding heartbeat in him expressed something else altogether. Stress, perhaps?

He was hardly even offered a break from his duties. His hands were constantly occupied in the days after the incident. Only more pressure appeared on his schedule. What of all the training, or the sudden, exponentially present danger of the abhorrent to the west?

Shar'khee absently let out a quiet whine. Why did she not think of such before? Had she truly not done enough to relieve his strain?

…Relieve his strain.

Tracy's words rang in her mind, tied with her descriptions and diagrams of Cera's teaching… 'mating relieves stress.'

Of course. The paladin continued to massage her dearest's side, a flare of excitement pressing her digits deeper into him with every cycle. A hunger grew in her with every inch of skin she stroked.

Harrison reached a hand up, rubbing along her cheek and coaxing her head down to scratch around her ears… but she was not intent on mere ministrations. Her talons teased the lower part of his abdominal muscles. They reveled in the loose line of hair that trailed down his waist, drinking the growing heat the lower they went. Her frills vibrated in anticipation.

She knew what he needed. She knew what the catalyst was, all of those previous attempts at curiously feeling the source of his nether heat coming to mind in perfect parallel to what Tracy taught her. His breath collapsed into a tense, yearning huff the moment she breached his waistband. The very muscles she stroked flexed. They twitched with a desirous need.

…A need she knew perfectly.

"Are you… stressed?" she asked huskily, her lower hand pulling his heated back further into her stomach, igniting the awaiting tinder between her hips. Every flicker of his pressure against her thighs sent electricity up her spine. It drove her eager exploration, that desperate demand to sate this mutual thirst. Everything was in place. She only needed to—

His hand snatched her wrist, startling her entirely and sending a shock up her nerves.

…There was a long pause as he hesitated. It was long enough for her purring to subside.

He slowly pulled her hand from his pants, sending a flurry of questions and worries to her mind. Was that… wrong? She held her hands over him, unsure of whether or not she should try again or ask him or…

Harrison softly kneaded her hand with a warm thumb, the little vibrations from his near-silent, spoken word calming the sudden worry. "Shar, we have a raid tomorrow. Not now. This… This isn't a no to that, or you, per se. Just… Not tonight."

The artificer shuffled in his hold, stretching her limbs out wide before rotating around to nuzzle her face into their male's chest. Shar'khee drew in a deep breath, worry still heavy in her heart. "Is that what has you anxious, dearest? Our battle in the morning? I can continue my massage, or perhaps I can prepare a cup of blue-leaf tea? Glowberry, perhaps? What do you need?"

"N-No, it's… I'm not anxious." Her mate paused, sighing as he held their shared Tracy closer.

"Please, whatever is on your mind, tell me," she urged with a firm grip on his side. "I could make you a late-night meal if you so wish!"

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She pulled her head back to lock eyes with him. His face was barely outlined in the lightless room, but she could make out his contrasting eyebrows and how they furrowed in uncertainty. He spoke slowly and in a whisper, piecing together what troubled him. "No, Shar. It's more that I feel… bad. About sending the girls off to fight after what happened. I know it has to be done, but… I don't know, it's been eating at me a little. I was excited at first, thinking about how much an actual win would mean to the settlement and that we'd be striking before the blood-moon, but it makes me a bit… worried? Not that I think anything will go bad, but…"

He dragged his smaller hand up the back of her palm, tenderly entwining his digits with hers as he squeezed. "I know it's stupid and I know no one thinks it, but it feels wrong to send them out to fight while we're still technically mourning. The fact that I was initially looking forward to it, actually glad that I had a reason to put them into danger… It felt disgusting. And then I really thought about it. Is our planning really enough? Have we trained enough? Only God knows what's in that hellpit. The bugs seem to always have some new sort of monster cooking up."

She recoiled, a thousand assurances at the tip of her frills, but he continued, clearly exhausted from his own stress.

"I know what you're gonna say, and I know we really are prepared. The whiplash of Vodny to this is just getting at me and making me question these things. I wasn't even planning on talking about it in the first place because I know it's just my brain putting tension on me for no reason. No reason other than it feels I need it—same as it always has. Sorry if it's not a real reason… I don't mean to worry you, really"

"I…I see," she responded hesitantly, swallowing before anxiously leaning her head down into him once more. "May I still offer you something? I cannot sit idly whilst I feel your heart beating so anxiously, so tell me, is there truly nothing for me to do for you? Please. List your greatest wish and allow me to deliver it to you. Anything, dearest. I beg of you."

"Shar," Harrison mumbled with a sympathetic half-smile. He let go of her hand, leaving it to soak in his stomach's warmth as he stroked her cheek. Subtle pulls convinced her closer down, where he placed his lips atop hers, closing his eyes and tenderly pushing into her. "It's alright. Not everything can be bandaged or cured instantly. I reckon I just need some sleep, to be honest. Not a lot of shut-eye these last few days."

He coaxed her even further, sending a delightful shock down her spine with another aggressive kiss. "But, if you really wanna help, just hold me close. Really close. The more of you I have around me, the fewer bad thoughts I have."

"That is all you had to say," she admitted, holding her arms tighter around both of her glorious mates, and wrapping every conceivable limb further around them. It was as if she squeezed the heat from them, every square inch of her skin soaking and rejoicing in the surging warmth.

Goddess above, she loved it. Somehow, by the blessed hands of the gods, everything she did for the star-sents was rewarded so quickly and with such magnanimity. How was it fair? No matter what she tried to give, she always received.

And the continuous pecks he left on her snout sent her reeling back into her crushing love.

She could not help but to cuddle them further, adoring the heat they exuded… and the pressure upon her lower half. Shar'khee struggled with those smoldering desires, willing herself not to give in and push back with her hips. Never mind the fact that her hand was squeezed tightly between the star-sents' stomachs, a mere few inches away from what she knew would satisfy those desperate, yearning inclinations that tore into her so freely.

Her talons were already so close, and the idea of simply exploring that heat further—

"Shar," Harrison reprimanded tersely through a whisper, glaring up at her with an unimpressed visage.

She jerked her hand away, allowing herself to be content with the smooth skin of the star-sents' abdominal muscles.

And yet, his chest softly shook with a forcefully quiet chuckle. "Save that for later… sexy fish."

…Sexy fish?

"I am not a fish, dearest," the paladin pouted. "I am an apex predator. You said so yourself…"

"Yeah, but you're my apex predator. And Imma call it as I see it."

"…Do you promise?" she asked meekly, rubbing her snout against his cheek.

"Hm? Of course you're mine. And Trace's too. We reserve the right to call you a sexy fish… and to kiss you." He pressed his lips to the side of her muzzle, leaving a lovely wet spot.

"N-No… about 'later.'"

He drew in a low breath, his hand tenderly gripping her jawline, making small, apprehensive motions. "I mean, there's still a lot to do after the raid… I don't actually know if—" He cut himself off. Something in his eyes changed, as if he came to a realization. "I promise."

She canoodled him further. "Whenever you desire more… I am happy to provide."

His hand slipped away and once more found purchase over her forearm. A short hum left him in neither the affirmative or negative, simply acknowledging it and lingering on in the continued silence of the bed, save for the Artificer's low breaths into her male's chest.

Yet, in the absence of it all, she felt it: his heartbeat.

It was fast, perhaps more than before. But it was not so anxious. Those repeated thumps felt familiar, ringing beside her heart, completely in tune with one another. Their closeness connected them. It bridged their desire, no matter if they decided to indulge or not.

He wanted her. It felt obvious with each cycle of inhales and exhales pressing his back into her chest, representing a pattern of repression and concealment that struggled so valiantly to keep himself from action. Each breath felt controlled, like a prayer.

She understood he did not wish for her lower thirst tonight. Yet, with the morning's battle as the last bastion against it, she felt her actions had grown a greater purpose.

No longer was the fight for the Sharkrin, nor for safety… but now for the key to her heat.

= = = = =

Distant screeches and growls bellowed from the cavernous hole below. The rattle of Browning shots echoed across the gaping entrance, amplified by the flashes they left within the deep dark.

Harrison stood at the lip of the steep cavity, anxiously tapping his boot against a sturdy rock outcrop. The drones and brawling hunters had only been in combat for less than a minute, but he was itching to rappel and really start clearing the hive. The sheer anticipation, heart-attack-inducing amount of stimulants, and the questionable Cera concoctions within him drew out every second into hours.

His fingers rapped against his shotgun's housing as he looked around at the several other descent points. The two long-ranged hunters and the big girls were lined up in their formations, with the massive tower-shields in front and the specialists in the back, each thoroughly adorned with ammunition boxes, grenades, and enough equipment to fight a war on their backs.

A beautiful emblem of their three-pointed shield stood proud on their left side pauldrons—the ones facing the monsters ahead of them. His girls' faces were blackened and obscured by gas masks, the sea-dragon's teeth peeking out from within the chops of their spartan helmets.

It was impossible to tell their emotions from their facial expressions, but with how their tails flicked and the way they rolled their shoulders, splaying their talons out like lion claws … they were eager.

And yet, above them all stood the paladin, her broad shoulders blocking out the morning sun entirely. Her armor rose and fell with every growling breath, massive hands gripping her shield and browning tight. If he didn't have an exoskeleton on, her constricting tail might've even done damage.

She exuded a vivid presence he'd never felt before. It was powerful. Protective. Assertive.

His cherished Sharky held him close and held him tight, prepared for the descent. She knew better than anyone that as soon as their boots hit the floor, there would be no time to breathe. All the drones were doing was making sure there was a place to land at the bottom. The same could be said of the other squads holding the extract tightly defended.

He glanced behind him, noting how stone-still Cera and Vodny were. Both carried rail guns and medium machine guns, their armors covered in adhesive stone powder that matched the deep gray rocks beneath the team… A hint of regret pinched him at the sight of the fisherwoman, but whatever Cera was teaching her, she at least seemed confident and purposeful—especially at being his shadow throughout the day.

The radio in his ear crackled to life, filled with Tracy's urgency, a clacking keyboard, and only the heaviest metal music blaring. ["The drones have a stable line, but there's a hell of a lot more coming. You've got two minutes, tops!"]

"Copy that," he answered, turning to yell at the others. "CHECK LINES! DESCEND ON MY COMMAND!"

The distinct sound of sharp clinks and the rattle of rappelling base points filled the air, followed by each team leader signaling their affirmation. Shar reluctantly, but swiftly, unraveled her tail and took her place in front of him, allowing the two of them to do their own checks.

He was set, taking in a deep breath and resting a hand on his guardian's side. "CLEAR! DESCEND. DESCEND. DESCEND!"

Cables whirred as the steep vertical became a shallow horizontal. One hand on his lifeline and another on his shotgun, he began the walk along the dry stone, inadvertently knocking rocks loose. His paladin hardly minded the pebbles falling between her legs when she was cracking boulders with each stride.

Ahead of him, Harrison heard the growing noise of battle ahead. He did his best to focus on his footing, but the cacophony of gunfire was wearing down his patience. His heart thumped in his chest, his adrenaline already kicking in. Had two minutes already passed? He couldn't rappel fast enough.

He gritted his teeth. The floor wasn't far. Each impatient step came faster than the last, his brain swiftly recognizing the proper outcrops to step on.

The floor slowly trailed back to horizontal, the fallen rocks becoming hazards to circumvent. He glanced outwards, catching a glimpse of the rattling gunfire before Shar stopped ahead of him.

She held out her hand, helping him jump the final vertical boulder before swiftly unclasping herself. He did the same, looking around to confirm the others' descent. A quick headcount of flashlights assured a full team.

"FORM UP!" he shouted, following his paladin forward.

The teams found their way to his side, clanking their shoulders together, with the hunchback hunters on the edges.

"FORWARD!"

Shields, held up high, led the way through the wide mouth of the entrance. Their march was synchronized. Several-hundred-kilogram stomps shook the ground in opposition to the bugs. Their boots mashed the decimated carcasses left by the harpies. Shattered stalagmites suffered the same fate.

He witnessed the formulaic madness ahead through a crack between the bulwark. Floodlights from the harpies lit up the chaotic front line of flailing limbs and gashing teeth. Swarming tides of grunts and colossi dashed forward against a wall of bullets hailing from above. Brief glares of bright blue jump jets were adorned with the flash of a blade. Rare blasts of rockets illuminated the entire scene, silhouetting the sheer amount of beasts crawling along the walls and ceiling.

["The harpies are running out of ammo and Talos has taken a bit of damage. Speed it up, man!"] Tracy worriedly shouted.

"We're fifty meters out!" he yelled back through the echoing chaos. "Get the mechs back so we can start firing!"

["Aye aye cap'n."]

The brawling hunters jumped back, taking another hop to stand beside their long-range counterparts. Harrison slapped Shar's side, ripping into his throat with another bellow. "FIRE AT WILL! DROP SHIELDS ON MY MARK!"

The line of Malkrin erupted with muzzle flashes all at once. The sheer, resounding din of a hundred rounds firing a second reverberated through his chest. The line of bugs were torn to shreds, pushing against the swarm like a wave, sending mangled limbs and viscera into the air.

"KEEP FORWARD!" Harrison emphasized. His shoulder firmly took the brunt of his shotgun's recoil, the exo-skeleton myomer keeping his feet moving ahead in spite of the excessive force.

They marched onward with the heat of their barrels leading the way. Each stride was accompanied by another vibration of another grenade finding its mark. Every pace took on the weight, recoil, and tremor of the battlefield. No army could match them.

["Harpies are out. Replacements will be on their way in five, sit tight!"] the technician alerted, shuffling around at her desk and yelling at someone else. ["Grab a box of fifty and get ready to reload the harpies! Get going—"]

Perfect timing. The walls on his sides sloped down into a thinner, choked-off chasm: their first defensive post.

"SHIELDS DOWN!" he ordered above the gunfire as the harpies raced back above him.

His spears responded with a synchronized 'THUMP' of their bulwarks slamming into the uneven ground. They dug in as ivory rods cracked and shattered against the wall. Shar yanked him behind her hand-held barricade in time before letting him go, her tail a possessive yet protective leash.

"FLARES!" Harrison shouted.

The entire cave lit up in red with a series of 'pops,' as if he flicked a switch.

"A-T!"

Retaliatory volleys of Carl Gustavs shot through the shields and speared through the largest of the bugs. Their ranks swarmed and charged forward. Automatic forty-millimeter grenades cleaved through their lines. Their cracked carcasses were torn apart, limbs tossed away in shreds. Venators hopped from wall to floor like skittish rats, picked off one by one by the rail guns. Every bullet penetrating the tide of chitin was a hammer, flattening the swarm strike after strike.

Harrison could only let loose into the horde, firing slugs guaranteed to hit more than just one with each punching round. The end of his sight produced the most satisfying pops of gore and viscera after every pull of the trigger. Their dying screeches fueled his conviction.

The bugs went unperturbed. Ballistas thrust ivory spears into the Sharkrin shields with force. Shar's reflexes kept him protected time and time again, her brief callouts directing the spears' fire toward the wall-bound menaces.

Shouts of 'reloading' and warnings of venators sent cascading reactions all around him: tilting shields, rotating coverage, passing ammunition. He hardly needed to speak; the well oiled machine worked for him.

"The abhorrent are not pushing forward. Shall we strike now?" the paladin requested in a growling projection.

"HOLD UNTIL THE HARPIES RETURN!" he yelled back up, firing indiscriminately.

Shar's sharp snarl was distinct amongst the roaring gunfire. "Their masses flee like cowardly whelps; they will soon crawl behind the bend. We must pursue what is left before they regroup!"

He jabbed a finger to his helmet's jaw, swapping to low-light vision and squinting between the blinding flares. Droves of bugs skittered away like cattle. They slipped behind the corner and into the next chunk of the cavern.

Why?

Harrison hid behind his guardian's shield, thinking for a moment. There was an arch-dominated section behind, littered with tighter cave tunnels full of hive-vines, yellow pus sacs, and eggs. Were they preparing an ambush?

By the time he looked back, the front line of bugs had collapsed completely. The swarm had actually been routed into a retreat. What the hell?

His girls kept firing into the exponentially smaller group of monsters, though their accuracy had clearly fallen off after the seventy-five-meter mark… Shar glanced down at him expectantly.

All he could do was push a button on his ear and yell out to Tracy. "Trace, what's the ETA on those harpies? The bugs are up to something!"

["Loading up the last ones. Two minutes, hold tight."]

"What about the extract side? How are the other squads?"

["…What the fuck?"] Tracy whispered into the radio, urgency searing into her voice. ["The bugs are gone! The other squads are just standing around!"]

"Same on this side!" he confirmed, his voice getting louder as the echoing gunfire died out in the thin cave. "I think they're setting up an ambush! I need you to send the harpies ahead and scout cave section three! We're going to push ahead to the section head and hold position until then!"

His drone girl had a moment of silence before responding confidently. ["…Alright, copy that, boss-man. Harpies are on their way now."]

"Hold position!" he ordered, flicking his shotgun's laser module on and readjusting his belt rig. "Adjust for section three! I want every shield with their purifiers out and every specialist with napalm grenades at the ready!"

The dull hiss of starter lights and numerous clicks of grenades pulled off rigs punctured the silence, aided by muffled Malkrin breaths and the subtle whirr of the hunters looking around like prowling beasts. And just like that, he was back to rapping his fingers against his belt-fed slug-slinger. Shar appeared no less anxious to kill, massive pauldrons rising and falling with every growl while her tail clenched around his back.

She knew the battle plan. He wasn't going to advance until he knew they could make it to the next defensible position… Even if he expected the swarm to hold him at the gate.

So they waited with tense limbs as the bug blood trickled between their feet and the stench built up in their filters. The waiting sucked, dragging on for every second he strained his eyes for movement. But the worst part was that his skin itched, and he had no means to scratch it.

He decided to keep his muscles warm and make a short round about each combatant, swiftly checking on their munitions and managing to resupply the brawling hunters with another three hundred rounds of incendiary ammunition each.

A crescendo of buzzing took over the thin cavern. The six-rotor-powered harpies and an assortment of reconnaissance drones took off ahead of them, rippling the puddles of blood and gore in their wake.

Harrison took in a deep breath, stacking up behind his guardian. "Shoulder to shoulder and side by side flank coverage! FORM UP! QUICKSTEP IT!"

The mass of armor, muscles, and guns congealed and surrounded him with resounding stomps.

"FORWARD SLOW! PREPARE TO STOP ON MY MARK!"

Their march was loud yet methodical. Flashlights lit up the ceiling and walls of the ravine, scanning quickly and efficiently as if the rock itself would sprout bugs. The team spearheaded through the wider section warily despite the gruff breaths of determination.

But nothing happened as they made it around the bend. Not even the drones saw anything in section three. The drones and harpies hovered around the next defensive position, picking off the stray bug that dared come into their view.

["Why the fuck are they hiding?"] Tracy hissed into the radio as Harrison peeked around Shar's shield.

The next section looked more like an overgrown, upsized ant hill than a cave. Stalagmites and stalactites stuck between wide arches that held the low ceiling up—barely enough to fit a colossus. Hive vines crawled along rocky slopes that tunneled up and into unknown rooms, forming numerous holes into the walls at every opportunity.

It was a trypophobe's worst nightmare, made even worse by how their flashlights barely pierced the subtle green fog in each bug-made abyss. Some vaguely illuminated with a disgusting, pus-yellow light, coming from various-sized sacs that reminded him all too much of infected skin.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, throwing a flare down into one of the closer wall-bound cavities, watching as its pinkish-red light disappeared with each echoing 'tonk' it left upon impact… The shafts were a hell of a lot larger in person, but compared to the cave height prior, they felt tiny. Suffocating even.

And that wasn't really the worst part. The bugs weren't swarming them in droves. He knew damn well he saw lines of beetle-workers and other fighting bugs making conga lines through these very same tunnels last night.

…Well, at least they knew where the 'queen' was, and only God knew how many bugs they were packing into the main chamber.

He ripped a thermobaric, incendiary grenade from his rig and patted Shar forward—she knew where to go. Her team trained for these holes… It was only a matter of skill and ammunition.

"Jav's team, you have the back! I want at least three 'nades down every hole and no less than ten seconds of flames up every ceiling! We've got no time limit, so let's pace it! Move it slow, follow Sharky! She's lead now!"

The team moved as one, coordinating cylinders of napalm down every slope and pausing for the purifiers to kick in. The first room slowly leaked smoke, drips of fiery biofuel dripping down from the upward shafts.

It wasn't until he saw embers trickle up the hive-vines like fuses that he was satisfied, giving the thumbs-up for Shar to lead them further down the correct path, winding into the stone-cold abyss.

But the cold was hardly the most pressing problem; it was about to get a hell of a lot hotter in there.

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