"YEEEEEAAAAAAAAHH!" I heard my voice scream before I even noticed my mouth open, sitting in the gun of the technical I was in speeding up the road and over the shredded desert where further along a caravan of several armored vans was traveling, if we hit it successfully, we would be set with supplies and ammo for weeks. It being a fun venture was just more profit to gain. 

Two other technicals filled with low level disposable smucks raced from behind us towards our shared destination, I didn't tell the driver to speed up for a reason, those guys weren't as well equiped as my boys were, they were gonna get shredded by that caravan but they'd be a good distraction. I recognized them as some other guys who worked under my clan leader, The Great James 'Bloodcleaver' McCarthy so I elated that there would be less mouths to feed and more food for me when we took back out haul. I did however wonder where they got those technicals from, based off of looks alone they probably put them together with bare minimum scraps. 

You might be curious as to how, or perhaps why I'm here leading a small group of outlaws towards what might be either loot or death. Well it's quite simple, I am something of an adrenaline junkey, but instead of base jumping and sky diving I kill people and Jack their shit. It's an easy living and gets me rock hard, so I do it and love it. I grew up in a monastery surrounded by monks, and hated it, after some big corporation showed up with a private army and killed my family and alot of monks I realized might makes right, and I love being right, so I came to this little planet called Pandora and joined a bandit clan. I was acknowledged as smarter and saner than most pretty quickly and given something like an officers role by Bloodcleaver and allowed to pick a group of men to lead on raids. That was 8 years ago, now I'm 21 and a successful squad leader under Bloodcleaver, the leader of the Shank Surfer clan. I worked hard and played hard to get here and I love my life. I'm a very selfish person so here I am still leading my boys on missions and stealing lives and loot. 

The first two technicals caught up with the carivan in a loud cacophony on rounds being exchanged sounded of, bandits leaning out and firing guns and the men in turrets launching saw blades that sped along the ground into the wheels of the rear two armored cars, slowing them significantly. I frowned, these fellows seem more confident than their piss poor gear suggested, but my frown lifted but my brow creased as one of the vans launched a missle into the technical on the left roasting everyone inside it alive in a flash of fire. They had turrets. I decided we needed to do something about those missles before we got in range of the caravan. So I leaned forward to shout over the wind and yelled at the kid(damn they just keep getting younger, this one fifteen at most) in the passenger seat and yelled

"Hey, passenger seat guy, yeah you new kid, shoot those fucks on the missle turrents or I'll rip your head off." He seemed to get the message because he pulled out a scoped rifle, I didn't care wether it was a short sniper or a long assault rifle, as long as it shot well. He fired several times and hit on the turret operator on the fourth try, it only took two shots to kill the next one. The rear guard was slowed and mostly disarmed so now was the time to rush.

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The other technical ahead of us seemed to have the same idea as they sped up and pulled alongside the third and final armored van in front and several idiots jumped out onto the fav and began shooting down into the roof, I assumed the occupants died because the car started swerving and eventually turned too sharp and started flipping, killing the guys on top and probably killing anyone who wasn't already dead in the van itself, the other technical caught up and stopped at the van while the two armored vans with bad wheels guarding what I could now identify as a bus kept driving. Well that makes the rest of my job easier. 

"Get closer to the vans!" I roared the command and it was swiftly followed, once I was in range to fire I did, my big gun raining bullets about as big as artillery shells at the rate of a MG. After I turned the vans to swiss cheese I once again ordered the passenger seat sharpshooter to fire, but this time to fire at the tires of the bus, I wanted it slowed for this. After he took out the two back tires the driver moved to the left side of the bus so he could hit the left front tire before swerving around to do the same on the other side. They were going much slower now. "Get in front and give me my slab." The driver did so easily with the bus's much slower pace and some guy in a gas mask somewhat similar to mine handed me a big slab of metal with two hands, I picked it up with one by the handle I welded on and disconnected my big gun from the turret slot and held it in my other hand.

We were close enough now that I could see the drivers confusion as to what I was doing, but it cleared up when I stood up, and then horror dawned on his face at what I was about to do. I jumped up and landed on the ground on both feet sliding back from the leftover inertia of the technical, which helped my massive frame 8 foot 6 inches from withstand what came next, the bus impacted into my shield and I forced all my weight and strength forward and dug my feet into the ground this would've killed most people but I was much larger than them, and worked out with tons more often than pounds or kilos. As the bus slowly ground to a halt my technical came back around and stopped by the side of the bus where it had ceased moving. The bus sufficiently stopped and stood to my full height again and and marched around to the entrance while my boys got out surrounded it, once at the entrance I set my gun down and ripped the doors off with my hand then picked it back up and squeezed in the tiny man sized door to get inside. I was far from impressed about what I found, a spindly old man driving what looked to be an old lady and maybe a dozen kids in the front seats and lots of goodies bags, cases, and boxes in the back seats. Maybe they planned to build an orphanage in the highlands where civilization was more common than bandit clans, it mad some sense given that was the direction they were heading in and Pandora did tend to generate lots of orphans, oh well that just meant I was crushing plenty of people aspirations, hopes, and dreams today. They must be new to Pandora if they thought they could get away with going through these parts. 

I lifted my gun to the old man's head and chuckled before saying what a psycho with a buzzsaw axe had said to me on my first day here "Welcome to Pandora, Eat shit and die." I fired.