Their base of operations is repurposed abandoned mine and mining facilities. For hundreds of years, hulking derelict pieces of equipment were left to oxidize and fall into disrepair by the mining company that left it behind when the mining operations were no longer profitable. Hundreds of rebels are here, inside the vast cavernous mine that gutted the earth for its precious minerals, they live and work in tents or repurposed mining offices and storage structures. Where the hell they all come from?

Up in the control room of a massive tunneling machine is where Dahlia stays and holds meetings; evidently, it was converted into a living space, more or less. Before I go up there, I tell Sundown to allow the repair crews access to do repairs on her, but only just enough access to do that, nothing more.

A few minutes later, Jo and I are in a meeting with Dahlia and her fanatics but at least I got a whiskey in my hand. They are going to salvage the Delta Icon, that makes sense; it’s a powerful machine. One of the participants is on a screen, it’s some military looking dude, but his uniform is from the RCF. He says he can only commit so much manpower and resources in the aid of the salvage operation but not much military support. The local authority will be on the scene of the wreckage soon and it’s in basically two locations; the back part in space still, the front portion was in a decaying orbit. It’s rapidly decaying and they have maybe an hour before she burns up and plows into Blasted Lands. That’s when they all look at me because they need me and Sundown for the salvage operation of the reactors and engines; it’s doubtful the local authorities will try to save the front part of the ship, there isn’t enough time, but Dahlia thinks we can do it with the help of the RCF.

All I can do is slowly shake my head, wondering “what-the-hell did I get myself into now?”

A good thirty seconds goes by, they are all still looking at me, eagerly awaiting my answer, “Y’all know I’m not a pilot, right?”

Dahlia walks over to me where I’m sitting, stands in front of me, “believe it or not, you started all of this, or at least inspired all of this. All of these people are here because of you; you stood up to oppression, you refused to yield. We need you, but can you finish what you started, Blacky?”

She knew right where to hit me, damn her. So, I reply, and against my better judgment… “Okay, but I need a proper flight suit, or at least something better than these street clothes.”

So let me jump ahead three months. Since the Delta Icon incident occurred, Hope Systems and the RCF are in a full-scale war, in the chaos, the Jihad Djinn managed to exploit the power vacuum and seize control of half of Blasted Lands. Without support from Hope Systems, the local government is having trouble maintaining their dominion and control of the planet. Miraculously, the rebels, I mean, we managed to salvage the wreckage of the Delta Icon, patch it together, mostly, and are now in control and possession of an insanely powerful piece of hardware and tech; she's nowhere near what she used to be. She’s still a force to be reckoned with because we also managed to salvage most of the nukes and make them operational by brute-force quantum-hacking them, which took about a month. They renamed her, ‘SS Lakota’ in honor of my cultural heritage, these guys obsess over me or something. With the SS Lakota in orbit, no Hope Systems warships dare enter orbital range, this area is now considered extremely hostile territory and is in open civil war. Besides, they are too busy with their own war with the RCF.

Thus far, it seems the RCF has been helpful and have been aiding the Jihad Djinn when they can, but they are busy fighting Hope Systems military apparatus to be of much help. Draugnav-Korkcalb Corp. (DKC) still technically owns the controlling share of Blasted Lands, but that is rapidly changing. Unfortunately, they still control the territory of my hometown and that entire area.

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Jo is content to preach and offer spiritual guidance to the rebels here at the F.O.B. in an abandoned mine converted into a military command base, it’s actually in the canyon right near where the Sundown landed after my escape from the wreckage of the Delta Icon incident. There won’t be any Hunter-Seekers coming any time soon, not with all the military conflicts across the entire greater system. So, Jo is safe, for now. It makes me happy because it feels right with Jo doing what they love to do. Maybe it can’t last forever but take the wins when you can.

So, the RFC isn’t aiding us out of the kindness of their hearts, no, they are doing it for the exchange of mining rights of the greater Browntown/Bigville region. Dahlia made this agreement without telling me, I’m none too happy about it, I tell you what.

So that’s where we are now, and we're about to do a military offensive on the outskirts of the capital city of Thunderbird. It's the DKC facility that houses all the consciousness-backups of everyone on Blasted Lands, at least everyone that actually has a backup, including the troopers, officers and administrators. Here’s the thing, I never had a backup; it’s my belief that the backup copy ain’t me, it’s someone else. When we die, we die, end of story, at least in the physical realm, might could be a heaven or some such, I figure we all get to find out eventually, either way. The Jihad Djinn feel the same way, more or less, but they are far too eager to push these ideas onto other people, and that doesn't feel right to me; I always figured each to their own, ya know? However, from a tactical military standpoint, this offensive makes sense, and Dahlia is pretty damn good at this stuff, scarily so. By destroying the backups and the ability to make more backups, the troopers are less likely to fight as much. It makes the stakes of warfare very finite and real.

Now look here, I still have feelings for her, but she changed after her injury, not in a good way either. She’s cold, distant, the kindness in her eyes is gone, what I see now is anger and hatred. Perhaps it’s the weight of the mantle of leadership, that’s what I’m hoping anyway.

As I close in on the target in the cockpit of Sundown, moving at supersonic speeds a few meters above the deck, in an effort to make their scanners have a hard time detecting my approach, my warning systems indicate the defensive systems are attempting target lock on me. My target is the defensive anti-aerial-assault cannons. Dahlia wanted me to hit it with a tactical nuke, but I argued for a more surgical attack because I didn’t like the collateral damage and civilian casualty toll on the simulations. I got my way, this time. So here I am, risking my life for people I don’t even know and people that don’t know me either. This is starting to become a pattern; Dahlia wanting to do some kinda horrible shit and me talking her out of it, it’s getting exhausting.

My particle cannons lock on target, and I fire away, the defenses explode violently, shaking most of the buildings on this side of Thunderbird. Our dropships come in right behind me, and they begin the ground assault as I find a place to land. Four of my men come up to stand guard of my ship. We do a frontal assault and blast the fortified front door open with handheld heavy-assault rifles that are more like small cannons. I shoot a few troopers in my way, and I enjoy it a little too much… But I hear a little voice in the back of my mind, that voice is Jo, saying ‘all life is sacred,’ but here I am, getting enjoyment out of killing these goddamn troopers.

We fight our way to the innermost fortifications where the massive storage servers are located, and my men start planting the explosives. It’s not exactly a realization that not all the civilians are going to make it out of the facility before we detonate, and that doesn’t bother me as much as it should; and that’s what bothers me the most, if you feel me?

As it turns out, I’m actually good at doing war, it comes easy to me. That should bother me, but it doesn’t, I like killing troopers, and I probably enjoy killing them a little too much. Once I'm outside, and all of my men accounted for, except for the ones that were killed-in-action of course, I trigger the explosion, reducing the facility to rubble and ash in a gigantic blast. I wonder how many innocent people I just killed, but it was either this or a nuke, so I guess I actually saved lives, but why doesn’t it feel like it?

We quickly exfiltrate, because this area is still controlled by the DKC, and reinforcements are likely already being mobilized. Either way, I’ll be needing a bottle of whiskey tonight, my men will think I’m celebrating, but it’ll be to forget and such.