Those Things Cause Cancer, Man!

The overhead light flickered. The smell of plastic, a comfortable surface, the warm, tender touch of soft, clean cloth embracing the skin. Existence was a miasma of blurred voices, muffled hearing, and faint pangs of sensation from the limbs. Time wasn't even a concept; how long had he been here? Days? Months? It felt like a year since that fight on the factory's concrete floor.

Nameless 's eyes slowly opened, the lids breaking apart the multiple layers of sleep sand. The pain was immense yet dull, as if he had been hit by a wave a few hours ago. The way the skin smacked and remembered the impact, so too did his body feel as if it had been hit by a speeding truck.

The ceiling was dark-colored concrete, brightly lit by the medical lights buzzing on the walls. Why was he here? The last thing he remembered was being put on a stretcher. As his eyes adjusted, he realized that his right eye was focusing in and out rapidly, like a camera lens. Panic shot up through his chest, his mind recoiling; what was wrong with his eye?

His hand instinctively rose to cover the misbehaving eye as his mind raced to troubleshoot what the right eye was doing. As the right hand rose, the light caught it, and Nameless saw through his eye's hyper-focus, a small subdermal mess under the pale skin. His gaze focused, sending immaculate detail to the brain. He began counting the pores in his skin. Or rather, it seemed artificial.

Nameless gasped, panic setting in firmly as his legs squirmed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He began to hyperventilate, spittle expelled from his gritted teeth as he sat up in his bed. A hand clasped his shoulder.

“Please, lay back down,” an old man said.

Nameless turned his head, his neck muscles spasming from lack of use. He studied the kind face of an elderly man of old Earth Japanese descent. His aged face was framed by simple eyeglasses, his body covered in a plain tunic. Two simple metal arms hung beneath his human ones, operating like Captain spiders did as they silently manipulated the medical bed.

“I am the Forge Master of Oasis,” the old man said firmly, yet kindly. “I had the honor of saving your life, master Nameless.”

“T-thank you,” Nameless mumbled as he lay back down.

The old man smiled genuinely as he retreated to a plastic seat in the corner of the room.

“I have the distinct privilege of saying that my finest work is now housed within your body, young man.”

“What did you do to me?” Nameless mumbled. His voice sounded so raspy and pathetic to his ears. Which, he noticed, were picking up far more detail than usual.

The forge Master bowed his head, choosing his words carefully. “I am afraid due to the physical assault from Florence, the majority of your body needed … reinforcing. Had your friends not intervened, it is doubtful you would have survived, even with the corporate serum in your system.”

“What did you cut off of me?” Nameless asked bitterly, anger rising.

The Forge Master raised his hand. “I am not a butcher, young hunter. I bend metal, forge beauty, ensure the holy flesh granted by the Gods may persist, I did not cut off anything.”

Nameless nodded slowly. “Sorry,” he stammered.

The old Forge Master sighed, gathering his words. “Your appendages are still there. Limbs, visual, audible organs are still seated in your body and operating just fine,” the Forge Master said patiently. “Had more time passed before you were brought to me, such a surgical feat could not be achieved.”

Nameless nodded.

“To ensure your flesh continued to operate properly, I had to go within and implant several devices that bridged the tears internally. Subdermal mesh, hormone boosters, joint support bindings, you are now held together by the will of the gods and synthetic mesh.”

The old man rose and turned his back to Nameless, hitting a switch. The lights went off, and a holographic projector presented an entire map of Nameless's body. The damage was startling. Every joint, every finger, right eye, ears were all reinforced and boosted. His whole back was gone, artificial muscle supporting what had been carved away by Florence's claws. There was barely any fat left on his body; he was now a walking talking muscle, every vein and muscle boldly outlined by his taught, technologically manipulated flesh.

“Had the dark one's mimic serum not been within your body, you would have surely perished, Master Nameless,” the Forge Master said simply. “Not all is lost. While the ocular and audio boosters implanted in your eye and ears are permanent, the rest is a bit more complicated. We spiders are designed for the most heinous work environments and the worst occupations on the battlefield. You now share a common mechanical trait with us: adaptive subdermal mesh.

“An old miracle, a piece of lost knowledge from before the great war stewarded by my people. Over time, the subdermal mesh will erode, releasing the stored enzymes and microscopic stem cells. As the foreign object decays, your body shall replace it with its own natural cells and sinu, directly aided by the stored components within the subdermal structure. As time progresses, you shall grow naturally stronger, the mesh binding and guiding your body's cells.”

A thought crossed Nameless 's foggy mind as the forge master waved his simple metal arms while speaking. Was this the reason why the forge master's body was so simple compared to the other spiders?

Nameless gulped, seeing his back on the flickering blue projection. The Forge Master noticed the concerned look and sympathetically gazed back.

“Put simply, the muscle fibers in your back could not be saved. The corporate serum appeared to conduct triage within your body, preserving your vital organs and granting you precious time until operation. I replaced what you have lost with permanent synthetic tissue and muscle. The structure is outlined with the adaptive subdermal mesh, ensuring your body accepts the replacement back muscle fibers.”

Nameless nodded. He was speechless; he essentially resided within an entirely new body. Now, there had to be an entire years' worth of camp profits inside him. All of this to save one person?

“She,” Nameless began slowly, “she could read my mind, Forge Master.”

“Call me Johnathan.”

“Sir?”

“You are the Nameless One; you saved my city. You, along with a precious few, have earned the right to know and speak my given name.”

“Johnathan, she could read my mind.”

The old Forge Master nodded. “I have read the reports of the dark one's newfound capability to communicate from encephalon to encephalon via wavelength. This is troubling, to say the least. From what I am told, Florence possesses this capability, which increased tenfold. I cannot begin to describe to you what havoc that was inflicted upon my home. She is not the only one with such dark gifts plaguing our land,” Johnathan said gravely.

“How long had she been here?” Nameless asked restlessly.

“Physically? No more than a week or so. But her influence in the city and surrounding territory impacted our lives for months. From what I have gathered from speaking to your comrades, while you were away completing bounties, Florence was hard at work plotting your party's demise.”

“Gods,” Nameless spat as he put his head down.

“Do not despair, young hunter; it was your bravery that distracted her and your sacrifice that drove her from the city. Had you not been here, our rebellion would surely have been crushed. For the first time since the great war, the future of Mars will no longer be dictated by slave masters and warlords.”

“So, I'm just some pawn in all of the big plans people make?” Nameless asked bitterly.

The old Forge Master did not reply immediately. Instead, he made his way to Nameless 's bedside. “We are all pawns in the schemes of the Gods. Your role is far greater than you think. You are the steward of something far more powerful than what Florence injected into you.”

“So, I keep getting told.”

“Yes, but do you truly understand just how important the task at hand is?”

The Forge Master reached into his robe and produced the vial from his inside pocket. The serum glowed bright blue in the light. He put the vial in Nameless 's palm and closed his hand around the vial, grasping Nameless 's closed fist with both of his human hands.

“The good Professor and I had time to examine the serum while you rested. It is indeed XM-801.”

Nameless stared at his closed fist; he could feel the vial. He chuckled.

The old man cocked his head curiously. Nameless shook his head as he spoke. “Nothing, it's just, well, eight zero one is the first three numbers in my slave serial number.”

The Forge Master also chuckled.

“It would seem your namesake has a sense of humor.”

Nameless's moment subsided as memories of the corporate serum returned to him. How insanely fast, strong, smart, instantly healing he was; he truly had felt like a god.

“Just,” Nameless asked, concerned, “how potent is this stuff?”

A dark look shrouded the old man's face. “Potent enough to burn billions for. There were only seventeen doses ever found and refined. Thirteen taken by the gods who ascended mortal form, one taken by the warlord that started the great war, the rest lost to time until now.”

“The great war was fought over this?” Nameless asked, startled.

The old man nodded. “This serum, land, riches… You must understand there was a time where man did not associate his allegiance to his planet. Rather, to the flag flown by the country one was born into. The old nations of Earth, superpowers they once called themselves in their hubris, squandered this great gift, shattering Mars in the process.”

“Who made this serum? Where did it come from?”

“That would be a good question for the Professor; if I recall correctly, his institution occupied a primary role in the refinement and production of this serum. I can say that the ingredients can only be found here on Mars. No other planet, moon, or asteroid in our solar system has the element XM-801.”

Nameless was shocked. He now held at least one of the reasons why his life was the way it was today. “So, I have the fourteenth vial?” Nameless asked.

The Forge Master nodded.

“Where are the other three?”

“One dose was used during the great war; the destruction left by that warlord's wake is still felt to this day. Thirteen were taken by the gods. As for the other two's locations, that is not for me to answer. The Professor has prepared a briefing for that. But, from what I understand, that very question is why he is here on Mars. You hold his charge; it is your duty to assist him in getting this wretched vial off Mars as soon as humanly possible.”

Nameless bit his lip. “You want me to help Earth?” he asked hotly.

The Forge Master shook his head.

“The Earth as you know it from the legends is gone now, replaced over the last few hundred years by an enlightened governmental body.”

Nameless chortled.

“At any rate, the Professor is not going to take the vial back to Earth. His charge is to return the serum back to its creators for safekeeping. Never again can such a potent weapon fall into the wrong hands. By helping him, you help Mars. Otherwise, every man, woman, and child may fall victim. Should any villain obtain this dose, they would surely abuse such power, and the masses would suffer immensely as before. It is a terrible burden to hold, but you are not alone. We stand with you.”

“We?”

The old Forge Master nodded warmly.

“There is much to explain, but first, allow me to check your vitals. There are some dexterity tests we must also run before I clear you for duty.”

“I'm fine.”

“That is for me to deem, young man.”

The Forge Master inserted a metal hand into the bed, and several different holographic screens appeared midair, dancing around Nameless, long lines of code and information flooding by too fast for the naked eye to catch.

To Nameless's amazement, his reflexes seemed twice as sharp, his body honed and taut like a weapon. A look of unspoken pride seemed to emanate from Johnathan's face. A look only a true master of his craft could give upon seeing his work speak for itself.

Once the tests were completed, the old man disconnected his hand and stepped back.

“You are ready; they are waiting for you in the briefing room directly across the courtyard. Please do not terry; I will join you all once I have finished sterilizing this space. Feel free to examine yourself in the mirror on your way out.”

Nameless nodded and pulled himself off the bed, standing shakily. At first, his knees felt like jelly, his legs spindly. But the blood soon rushed to his feet, and his body seemed brand new.

“Thank you,” Nameless said, astonished.

The Forge Master did not respond initially, instead giving him an ominous look. “It pains me to see such a young one who has lost so much. I hope that my work will prove a suitable substitute for your sacrifice.”

“I'm sure it will do just fine. Thank you again.”

“Thank you for saving my city.”

“I just took the hits; you guys did all the work.”

“As a good soldier should. And I am grateful, as a good citizen should be.”

The Old Forge Master hunched his shoulder slightly, releasing his body from his proper and firm posture. He clutched his human hands with the metal ones. Genuine empathy and regret framed his old face as he studied his work one last time.

At that moment, Nameless could almost see a much older Captain Spider standing before him. He wondered if they were related at all. He felt foolish for assuming such a thing; of course, the Spiders were all still unique human beings. They were nothing like the machines they appeared to be.

Nameless strode away from the old man, standing before the mirror by the exit. At first, the sight he saw startled him. His right eye was grey, the left one still green and intact. His body was pure muscle, his back, and legs fortified and strong as steel. If one looked closely, one could see the layers of subdermal mesh resting beneath the bounty hunter's pale skin.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

He took one last look, inhaled deeply, exhaled, then went over to the short metal desk by the door. He placed his pistol in its holster and put the new dark leather jacket on. He slung his belt around his waist, sheathing his thermal knife. Finally, he held the beowulf. The dark metal familiar and cold, he slung it over his back.

“You are a fine soldier, a worthy knight, and a good friend to your comrades,” Johnathan said. “You are lucky for and worthy of their friendship.”

Nameless swung the door open, looked over his shoulder, and said a final thank you before leaving. Outside, the courtyard that lay beyond was massive. Hundreds of freed slaves, spiders, and guild members went about. Some scurried by carrying ammunition containers, crates, or litters with wounded on board. Others were physically training, conducting rifle maneuvers and drills. The rest hunkered around stoves, cooking food in huddled groups.

The area was essentially a cavern beneath the cavern city, dimly lit by industrial lamps hanging from stalagmites. Alcoves carved into the walls housed crude apartments and shanty camps. The hub of the under network; the central node of the resistance. The Gutter of Oasis. As Nameless strode into the crowd, the general hubbub gradually ceased. He made his way toward the opposite side of the courtyard, his skin crawling, feeling dozens of eyes on him.

As Nameless made his way across the courtyard, he noticed a mother and daughter walk directly into his path. They stopped when the young daughter recognized Nameless and pointed enthusiastically. The mother seemed embarrassed as the daughter frantically asked her something that he could hear distinctly despite being so far away. She wanted to talk to him so Nameless gestured for them to come over.

Slowly they approached. The little girl had bright red hair, a mechanical right hand, and a rusty sawed-off bolt-action rifle slung over her back. A silver piercing stuck out from her nose. Her bright young face was unscarred and clean despite her dirty battle fatigues, three sizes too big for her. Nameless took a knee and smiled as they came close.

“What's your name?” he asked kindly.

“Lola,” the little girl said shyly, hiding behind her mother. The woman also had bright red hair and similar clothes.

“I'm so sorry,” the mother said quickly.

“It's okay!” Nameless laughed.

“We were factory slaves by the docks before the uprising. Don't you have something to say to the nice man, Lola?” the mother said encouragingly.

“Thank you,” she murmured shyly behind her mother. Her bright eyes sparkled as she gripped her mother's clothes.

“Thank you for helping us!” Nameless immediately responded. The little girl giggled, coming out from behind her mother.

“My spider friends and I brought ammo to the big machine guns by the docks! They were really loud and scary,” she said proudly.

“I bet you were very brave.”

As Nameless stood back up, the mother bowed her head and made a holy symbol with her callused fingers, forming the Spider's crest. Both open palms facing each other, the tips of the thumbs and index fingers pressed together in an arch. The remaining fingers pressed together by the middle digit, the rest pointing inward toward the mother.

“Thank you,” she said. “I never thought the day would come we could have Names. I know the Forge Master gave you his best work, but the city can never repay you and your friends for what you have done.” She looked back up. Her daughter mimicked her mother, tying her little fingers in a knot as she smiled up at him.

As Nameless looked around, he saw that every other person in the courtyard had stopped and were also giving the holy symbol. He wasn't religious, it wouldn't be right to try and give it back. So, he raised his fist in the Martian gesture of respect.

The mother and daughter retreated and watched as Nameless awkwardly continued his way. So many people staring, he hated the attention. It didn't feel right. None of this did. He was just a bounty hunter. He almost died; his plan failed; the only reason he even got into a fight with Florence was that he had been too hasty and didn't test the roof beyond jumping those last few feet down onto it. And they treated him like some hero, not a dumb twenty-year-old who almost died.

Nameless hastily went to the metal door across the courtyard. Two hooded guild members stood guard; rifles held in their hands. They saluted and opened the door as Nameless passed them, entering the briefing hall. Inside was a long hallway, doors lining the left and right walls. Zipping back and forth in the hallway, particular spiders, much older than their peers, hastily went back and forth. Their augments were silver and often had special eye and ear modifications.

Some had headsets and were frantically giving orders or sending information; others carried papers from one door to the next. The hallway was one long maelstrom of activity as the Spiders and Asian men and women in dark uniforms went about their charges. As Nameless walked down the hall, dodging scurrying runners, he noticed there were windows in between the doors. Each window showed a similar picture. Row after row of seated Listeners manning holographic information boards.

Some rooms were clearly meant to monitor Oasis's streets; others were logistics; others observed the surrounding ground-level wastes with a birdseye view from drones, watching enemy troop movement. Other windows were blacked out entirely, with armed guards standing by the doors, checking each Spider's holographic identification implants before letting them inside.

Nameless 's mind felt dizzy with the visual input. This must be how Auntie Mai knew so much; she had an army of intelligence operatives armed with every shred of information and viewpoint available at any given angle of the battlefield. No wonder she knew the very pace count of the jail.

This entire operation was massive. An army of freed slaves, guildmembers, and Spiders was crafted specifically for the fight. It was apparent now that the Vagabonds had wondered into a war that had been brewing for a long time. How long had these people been preparing to take on the ruling clans? By the looks of it, years, to say the least. And to think they had been hunted the entire time. No wonder they had been so generous to the vagabonds.

Nameless pushed these thoughts from his mind as he arrived at the end of the hallway. There were no guards, simply the Spider Crest engraved into the metal door. Nameless inhaled deeply, exhaled, and put his hand on the cold metal door handle. Were his friends inside? What would they think of him now? After almost getting them all killed, he braced himself for the barrage of insults and angry questions.

He swung the door open and entered. At first, the brightly illuminated room offset his eyes and he squinted. He stepped inside, shielding his eyes, and closed the door. Immediately, a figure sprinted toward him and tackled him. He was shoved back into the closed door, and the air left his lungs. His hand went instinctively for his thermal knife, his thumb on the activation button when a familiar smell reached his nostrils. Julia's fancy shampoo she traded food for with camp merchants.

Nameless looked down and saw Julia's blonde hair resting right below his chin.

“Holy shit! You’re alive!” a deep, familiar voice boomed with laughter. Aj got up from his chair and stomped over to Nameless and Julia, his massive, muscled arms extended fully. He picked Nameless and Julia up and embraced them in a bear hug.

“Plug muh durn!” Julia's muffled voices pleaded, her head sandwiched between Nameless and Aj's chest. Aj bellowed with laughter and released the two, letting them down on the ground.

Julia and Aj gathered themselves; Julia pulled her ruffled hair back into her ponytail. Aj stood with his arms crossed, his laughter fading. The two looked Nameless up and down. The happiness and color drained from their faces, the warm smile melting from Aj's scarred face. Julia put her hand over her mouth. “Gods…”

“Dude! We talked so much shit on you!” Hera cackled as she walked over with a bowl of Auntie Mai's ramen in her cupped hands. She stopped eating as she stood beside Aj and Julia.

“Holy shit,” Hera whispered.

Sammy and Carla also stood beside the friends. Sammy's eyes displayed a terrified look on her face, her beady eyes and freckles crunched as she studied him. Carla appeared squeamish, looking down at the ground then back up repeatedly after seeing Nameless's augments.

“I mean, I kinda deserve it,” Nameless chirped.

Sammy hit Hera on the shoulder, for which she didn't even flinch, simply taking the strike.

“I-I didn't mean—” Hera started.

“It's okay, guys. Really,” Nameless chirped. Worry filled him; this wasn't the welcome he expected at all.

“N-n-n-nameless?” a small voice asked behind the friends. They parted, letting Captain Spider scuttle in between them. His tiny shoulders were hunched, his limbs tangled together nervously, his fingers twiddling. His scarred, bald head was creased as his worried face inspected Nameless 's new upgrades.

“C-c-can I?” the little Spider asked timidly, gesturing to the augments.

Nameless nodded, and Spider leaned in closer, inspecting the Forge Master's work. The little Captain whistled.

“H-h-he r-rolled the-the whole n-nine y-yards out f-f-f-f-f-for ya,” Captain Spider said in awe. “I-I-I haven't s-s-s-s-seen this g-good a w-w-work in d-decades.”

“Decades?” Nameless asked, startled.

“We got a lot to catch you up on,” Julia said nervously.

“I guess,” Nameless sighed. “What other surprises you guys got for me?”

“My boy!” an older voice called, far off in the distance behind the friends.

“Oh no,” Aj sighed, bracing himself.

“Here we go,” Carla said, rolling her eyes.

“Want me to?” Hera asked angrily, balling her fist and pointing behind herself with her thumb.

“Professor bullshit!” Nameless called, determined to break the sour mood.

“Young man, do you have any idea how many doctorates I—” Professor Zion started, eagerly clamoring inside the huddled group. He halted his sentence when he saw Nameless 's augments. “Hold,” he finished softly, his eyes widening.

“Got a real knack for putting your foot in your mouth, don't ya, pops?” Hera asked angrily.

“Leave him be; he's fine,” Nameless sighed.

Professor Zion bowed his head, folding his hands.

“I was going to start the briefing, but I can see how this is not an opportune moment. I shall give you all some space,” Professor Zion said in a pained tone.

“You're fine. You can stay,” Nameless said kindly.

“Really, I feel that this is a moment for your group,” Professor Zion said hurriedly, holding his hands up as he backed away.

“It's your group, too, now,” Nameless said encouragingly.

“Nameless, you don't have to,” Julia said softly, clutching her right arm, which Nameless finally noticed was covered in a medical sleeve.

“He's as much a Vagabond as we are now. Maybe not as sadistic, but I heard you besides that litter,” Nameless said firmly.

The Professor blushed, a twinkle forming in his eye as he nodded.

“He was gonna operate on you,” Sammy blurted out.

“I know,” Nameless laughed.

“Has some balls for an Earther, even if he is always saying the wrong shit at the wrong time,” Hera admitted.

“It's us versus them. And there's a hell of a lot more of them than us. We need all the good people we can get. Okay?” Nameless said firmly.

The group nodded nervously. Aj chortled, then thumped the old Professor on the back, sending him forward a few inches as he gasped, startled. “Welcome to the Vagabonds, Professor Bullshit!”

Aj pulled a liquor bottle out of his pants cargo pocket, took a swig, then passed it to the Professor.

“Oh no, I don't—” Professor Zion started. But he stopped, sighed, shrugged, then took the bottle. “What's in this exactly, if I may ask?” Professor Zion asked nervously, holding the bottle to the light, watching the tiny pulp-like filaments inside swim around the dirty liquor bottle.

“Same shit we've been drinking since we were kids,” Hera said darkly, eyeing the Professor judgingly.

The Professor gulped nervously, pursing his lips, holding back yet another astute observation. He shook his head, held the bottle to his lips, and knocked his head backward, sending the liquor straight down his gullet as he gulped quickly. The Professor got a few swigs in before he wrenched the bottle from his lips, coughing violently.

The vagabonds laughed, Nameless taking the bottle and patting the Professor on the back.

“Dear Lord!” Professor Zion choked, holding his throat. “It's still burning! Even in my stomach, oh dear God!”

Nameless smiled and took a swig, then passed it to Julia, beaming. The group laughed again; the tension broke as Professor Zion scampered away, looking for the nearest waste bin.

“Ain't no shine like Martian shine!” AJ bellowed with laughter.

The Professor grabbed a waste bin and held up his middle finger as he wretched into the container.

“Oooooooooh!” the Sadistic Vagabonds jeered and laughed.

As the laughter died down, the Professor returning with a green face, Nameless inspected Julia's right sleeve. Nameless gently poked Julia's right arm while the group was distracted, his finger pressing against the hard metal.

Julia and Nameless made eye contact.

“I'm so sorry,” he whispered, sorrow filling his chest.

Julia shook her head.

“I'm sorry we didn't get to you in time,” she said darkly. “We tried. We tried, Nameless; we really did; there were so many. I'm so sorry I—”

Nameless embraced Julia. Her armed metal pressed against his subdermal mesh. The two held the embrace, the group jeering and cheering as the bottle was passed from person to person until it was emptied.

“To the Sadistic Vagabonds!” Sammy slurred, resting on Aj's arm, her head barely touching his boulder-like shoulder.

“You guys are cute,” Julia said gently, pulling herself from Nameless.

Sammy immediately pushed herself away from Aj as he laughed.

“What? I-uh-no, I was, was no, I!” Sammy stammered.

The ruckus was interrupted as the door swung open. Auntie Mai entered the room, followed by Forge Master Johnathan, and Guild Master Ardo on crutches. High Priest Hyforian was last to enter, gently closing the door behind him.

“Master Ardo!” Julia said excitedly.

“Hello, children,” Guild Master Ardo said softly, his dark skin glistening in the room's bright light. It wasn't until now that Nameless noticed that Guild Master Ardo and Aj both had the same pitch-black skin. Race had never mattered in the Wastes, but it was a part of people's identity here. There was much Nameless had to learn.

“Thank you,” Julia said, holding the Guild Master's hand with both of hers.

“Ardo stayed behind, making sure that no one followed us into the caves,” Carla said to Nameless.

“Thank you, Guild Master. How are Anna and Jesse?” Nameless asked, concerned.

“Anna is well. She is busy training the Freedpeople as we speak. She will make a worthy successor to the Guild Throne. As for Jesse—” The Guild Master's voice broke, his head bowed as his chin quivered.

“His sacrifice shall be remembered as one of Oasis's finest,” High Priest Hyforian said grimly yet fervently. “He stood to the last, trying to halt Florence's escape.”

“He went up against her after the factory?” Nameless asked, startled.

“It was that or allow her to wreak as much havoc as possible on her way out. The rest of the command was busy attending to you,” Guild Master Ardo said.

Guilt and rage-filled Nameless. So many were dead and hurt on his behalf. First Julia, Hera, Aj, now Jesse, a man he barely knew, dead on his behalf.

“Young Jesse sacrificed himself not just for the Nameless one, but for his family, his city, and the cause. Let us not despair for his death but rejoice that one could shed such light during these dark times. He shall be remembered for his sacrifice and revered for his bravery,” Auntie Mai said, her words translated a moment later as the translators crackled to life in their ears.

“I am holding a service for young Jesse and the remaining dead tomorrow,” High Priest Hyforian said.

“The Vagabonds will be there,” Nameless said without hesitation.

“Vagabonds?” Guild Master Ardo asked, startled, looking at the group.

“It's a moniker they coined from one of my insults,” Professor Zion shrugged defeatedly.

“Never before has such a worthy bunch of knights ever labeled themselves with such a lowly term,” Hyforian said in shock.

“Humility is a sign of strength. I rather like the name,” Auntie Mai chuckled.

“The Sadistic Vagabonds!” Aj slurred, the moment's severity having flown straight over his head.

“Indeed,” Hyforian sighed.

“We grieve with you, Father,” Julia said.

“Very well, Professor Zion, if you could attend to us, there are contacts from our sister sectors who wish to speak to you,” Guild Master Ardo said, balancing himself on his crutches.

“Yes, of course, forgive me; I thought we were about to commence the briefing,” Professor Zion stammered, retreating to the back of the room hurriedly so he could collect his notes.

“The briefing shall begin tomorrow after we speak to eyes of the dune. For now, let us allow these young adventurers some respite,” Guild Master Ardo said.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Professor Zion mumbled, shuffling his notes and sliding in between the group.

“Go get 'em, Professor Bullshit!” AJ said, raising the empty liquor bottle high. The other vagabonds cheered as the blushing Professor nodded and left.

Guild Master Ardo went through the door as High Priest Hyforian held it open. As Auntie Mai was the last to leave, she stood in the doorframe, taking in the sight of the group.

“You have no idea how much good you have done. Thank you, children,” She reached into her brightly colored red tunic and produced a large woolsack of Oasis currency, each metal piece twice the value of mining credits. She tossed it to Nameless, who caught it startled.

“This-this isn't necessary.”

“You are mercenaries after all, are you not?” Auntie Mai smiled.

Before the group could give the money back, the old woman left, closing the door behind her. Nameless took one of the gold coins out, letting it glint in the light as he held it over his head. He whistled.

“That's a lot of dough, man,” Aj said longingly.

Julia snatched the money, stowing it on her belt. “No blowing it on hookers and booze!”

Aj groaned

“We can split it later,” Nameless ordered. “Not like we can spend it here in the middle of a warzone anyway.”

“Is that enough to get us off-world?” Sammy asked wistfully.

“It's a start,” Julia said brightly.

As the group murmured and talked amongst themselves, several Listeners entered, carrying trays of Auntie Mai's food and bottles of alcohol. The vagabonds cheered, setting up a table with seats, preparing to gorge themselves. As the friends dug in, Nameless looked at Captain Spider curiously as he used his metal arms to cut and stack food in front of himself.

“So, just how old are you?” Nameless asked, stabbing an eggroll with a single chopstick.

Spider halted, slurping his noodles, letting them dangle from his mouth as he gaped at Nameless.

“Guess.”

“You said decades earlier, twenty?” Nameless asked.

The Vagabonds laughed as Spider shook his head happily, slurping up his noodles.

“C'mon! Thirty?” Nameless asked, startled.

Aj bellowed with laughter as he cracked open a new bottle, jabbing his thumb into the air.

“Forty?” Nameless asked indignantly.

Captain Spider shook his head, holding a bowl of soup to his face as he eagerly gulped it down. As he gulped, Julia approached him from behind, a single pink cupcake with a cigarette erected in the center. She placed it in front of the Captain, flicked open her zippo lighter, and ignited the cigarette.

“He's fifty-one today,” she said softly.

Captain Spider peered up at her then looked back at his cupcake, his young chin quivering.

“Told ya the cigarette was a bad idea,” Sammy said gruffly.

“Hey! You try finding a birthday candle in this fucking place!” Hera said defensively.

“I still think we should've used a match,” Carla sighed.

“Birthdays are stupid anyway. That's our bad, man,” Aj said roughly, wiping his mouth with his patched sleeve.

“N-n-n-n-no no-one's ever-ever c-c-c-c-c-celebrated m-my b-b-b-birthday before,” Captain Spider said, his eyes tearing up.

“C'mon, not even one?” Nameless asked gently.

“N-n-n-not for-for s-s-s-s-s-stunt-” the spider started.

“You're not a stuntling!” Hera interrupted, banging the table with her clenched fist. “You're Captain godsdamn Spider.”

Captain Spider smiled as he wiped a tear, picking up the cigarette and taking a deep whiff.

“Yo! Hold up there, man; those things cause cancer!” Nameless said, startled.

“I-I-I-I s-s-smoked b-before y-y-you where e-even born,” Captain Spider admitted, blowing smoke from his nostrils.

“Just wait till he cusses someone out.” Aj laughed, passing the bottle to Captain Spider, who took a swig like a champ.

Nameless shook his head, taking in the sight of a deeply, mechanically augmented ten-year-old boy huffing a cigarette and swigging Mars shine. Then he took in Aj, the muscled, tallest member. Covered in scars, his drunk face brightly exuding joy as he laughed and joked, his long dreads bouncing about.

Carla, the silent one, her beautiful olive skin, and pitch-black hair wrapped up in a bun, her brown eyes dancing as she listened to everyone else. The shortest, happiest one, Sammy, her freckled face outlined by her brunette hair, her pale skin glinting in the light. Julia, her beautiful blonde hair framing her fair and unscathed face. Her perfect figure is hidden by baggy clothing and tactical gear. Hera, her bald head covered in fishing clan tattoos, her bare arms also deeply tattooed, her dark skin a medium between the contrast of Carla's and Aj's skin. Her face was rugged and scarred, her mouth grimacing from the constant snarling and sneering.

These were the sadistic vagabonds. These miscreants were Nameless’s true and only family. At that moment, eating new age Martian Chinese food at the bottom of an underground base, hunted by every powerful force on the planet, he felt truly at home for the first time.