“To be forged in the womb, the bonds of blood

Two souls born by the blessing of the Five

To wander the endless deserts together

Within their hands a power to slaughter gods

In their minds the knowledge of paradise lost

Salvation through the fires of

THE GOD GUN”

* Book of Armin, Verse 94

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The Baitan Plateau stretches for miles across the horizon. Risen above the salt flats surrounding it, the entire structure was carved through by ancient erosion and historical conflict. Red sandstone exposed to the five suns above, fallen sand and dust sprinkled across the flat peaks hailing from deserts afar. Canyons snake through cliffsides, and ancient roads from long exhausted mining pits form an intertwined maze of decaying support structures and natural rock.

They arrive.

The roar of biofuel engines echoes over howling wind, civilization returning to a long abandoned site. A convoy of transport trucks and armored technical vehicles move through worn roads, machinery passing through serpentine canyons and vicious turns. Bolted on plates of salvaged armor and mounted machine guns carrying with them material and manpower; a delivery of innocent devices to malicious intent.

Mining equipment stacked alongside plastic barrels of water and food, munitions sparse as bandit guards ride ready for any attack.

She speaks first.

Staring out towards the leading truck, the guardian of the second cargo transport speaks up through the roar of the biofuel engine. A young voice tainted with impatience, bright blue yet bored eyes turning to her driving companion in the seeking of entertainment. “Are we there yet?”

“Oh shut up Mari.” The driver dismisses casually as he keeps his brown eyes glued on the winding road ahead.

“Hey, I’m not the one driving. I gotta keep my eyes out for snipers or… whatever. Like there’s gonna be an ambush in this gods forsaken place.” The woman rests her legs on the dashboard, settling her bolt action rifle against the passenger side door. “I mean come on we’ve been driving for like… five hours now?”

“It’s eight hours from the main inter-principality road to the Camp.” The man informs.

Leaning back Mari stares up at the truck cabin’s stained roof, an exasperated sigh voicing disappointment. “Ugh, so three more hours. Are you sure your memory is ok Jac?”

Taking his vision off the dusty road the man stares at her. “I’m certain we’re at least four hours out.”

“Awww.” Mari smiles as she lazily gazes at him. “Well I can imagine you spending time with worse people. I mean your Gang’s not exactly the most friendly of them all… Also watch where you’re driving.”

Lost in her southland eyes Jac quickly reorients back to his task, swerving to barely make a corrective turn as the road continues with a hard right.

“Careful.” The woman teases as the beast of metal almost crashes into a solid rock wall.

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Jac shakes his head, refocusing himself. “Stop distracting me.”

“Aw but you’re so vulnerable.” Mari laughs, adding a hint of childish innocence to the sound. “Cutie.”

“At least wait until we’re out of the canyons.” The Driver requests as he stomps on loose breaks, a corrective speed executed as the road’s incline takes the convoy downwards. “Please.”

“And how long is that going to take?”

Jac holds his answer as he divulges into memory, answering only as the convoy approaches the next junction. “After this next left turn.”

A massive, perfectly cylindrical valley exactly two miles in diameter stretches onward to the horizon. Carved directly into the plateau, the entire space is oppressively dominated by massive cliffs that reach up into the dusty sky above. Barely offset by a small angle, the formation itself was of near geometric precision. A glassed black surface of long cooled magma extends forth beyond the dust, eyes catching a carved trail broken by erosion cutting a path through the ancient landmark.

“You know they say this place was made by the GOD GUN.” Jac informs with ancient trivia as he guides the truck towards the road. “During the Old War, one of its shots went wide and ended up hitting this plateau. Went right through all this rock and kept on going. That’s why it’s called ‘Baitan.’ Which means the fall of judgment.”

Mari rolls her eyes as she smiles. “This is like the sixth time you’ve told me this you know.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” The Guard answers cheekily. “When we were loading up in March, again when we were driving here, and now again.”

“Well I’m sorry.” Jac glances over with tired sarcasm.

“Could be worse.” Mari stretches. “I love hearing you tell stories anyway.”

“You do?”

Dark eyes scan the fit and sharp frame over, Mari smiling. “I do.”

A gaze held, Jac scoffing. “You’re teasing me again.”

“Guess I am.” She notes, then pauses as the truck hits a rough spot in the road. Words directed towards an unknown future, Mari pushes the unspoken point. “Do you think this is going to last?”

“What is?”

“This… alliance.” Mari blinks. “I know that Witch Naro and her gang left already, but what about the rest of us? I mean, our… my Leader started this whole thing but yours…”

“It’ll last until we finish digging up that treasure in the pit.” Jac answers. “After we split the earnings we’ll go our separate ways.”

“Is that it?” Mari asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Jac I’ve known you for like three weeks now and…” She stops as she tries to form words. “This is stupid.”

“What is?”

Mari quickly turns to the passenger window, avoiding eye contact with the driver.

“Oh don’t give me that.”

A look of gravity in her eyes, words forming genuine emotion. “Jac, have you ever thought of leaving your Gang?”

“What?”

“I mean try something new. Run with some new people.” Mari begins as she tries to avoid the words. “I mean… our group always seems to be short handed.”

“And you’re saying I should join the Geysers?”

“Well no not… that.” The Guard blinks, then stops. “Actually…”

A smirk arriving on his face, realization in implication. A voice hinted with insight, Jac speaks with sudden interest. “So you’re saying that I should just leave my entire band of friends who I've known for five years behind? Why should I do that Mari?”

“B-because…” The woman curls her legs in on the seat.

“I’m just waiting for you to say it at this point.” Jac smiles as he attempts to keep a straight face.

“Oh shut up!” Mari yells at him with laughter. “This isn’t some…”

The armored technical truck in front of their transport is vaporized instantly, fireball erupting as a massive explosion envelops the vehicle ahead.

Windshield glass shatters, razor sharp shards sent flying into the cabin as Jac and Mari cover faces instinctively.

A reaction: the driver swerving the wheel hard right as he sends the truck hurdling around the burning wreck, tires spinning out as debris rains down from above and heat blinds eyes.

Behind them the entire convoy crashes amongst each other, trailing trucks rear ending technicals and bucking both cargo and people onto the dusty road.

Untrained souls lost in the violence of an ambush.