Tribals barrel down the tunnel, screaming for blood. The brutes form a large and unruly group, clattering over one another in their haste to reach enemies of their chieftain. They're still some distance away but move at a frightening pace.

Gelly grunts before dropping to a kneeling position. He fires into the ravening mob, each shot tearing holes through multiple bodies so closely are they packed together. Beside him Mos Bruen burns through the nearly mindless aliens with his rifle.

The Somners hold back Mos Einiss, keeping him from the line of fire. Einiss ceases his struggle after a word from his adopted brother. Drev waits behind them, armed with a short spear.

Despite the heavy losses, the tribals continue pouring into the tunnel.

"We'll need to fall back," orders Mos Bruen still burning down the tribals as he slides back.

Gelly rises to his feet but continues firing into the onrushing aliens. A crimson skinned quadruped leaps at him, screeching in the tribal argot. His SAm20 releases another burst, and the creature is torn to wet shreds. Blood sprays across his armor and coats his visor in dark red. He wipes it away and keeps firing.

He waits until his tentacular allies are beyond the first bend before making a jet assisted dash to catch up. Gelly slings his rifle across his back. His retreat brings him to where his allies have formed a battle line, each wielding a glowing spear.

"It's good that you brought spares, brother," remarks Bruen, drawing himself up taller. Einiss waves around some of his tendrils in response.

Gelly draws his knife and takes a place beside the pair. Zek leans her face into the smooth, warm stone and rubs the wall with her appendages. The other two ignore her, so Gelly tries to do the same. Her actions disturb him, but he focuses on the howling mob rushing toward them.

First around the turn is a long creature with many legs. The brothers come at it together, thrusting in tandem. The thing dodges Bruen's attack only to skewer itself upon his brother's spear.

Behind it come the other fastest runners, a pair of long-haired creatures, sleek bodies trailing dark fur behind them as they lope forward on thin legs. One rears up, but Gelly darts close. He stabs into the thing's short neck and catches hold of it with his other arm.

It spasms once then grows still. He pushes it into the other, jumping after it. The corpse's legs tangle with the still live one, bringing them both to the ground. Gelly stabs down twice more, then steps back into line.

"I understand your reluctance to sell him," quips Mos Einiss. "He fights like a Battleshell."

"He needs no minder," returns Bruen, spear piercing the head of a tripodal tribal. The alien's death throes catch him as he slithers back too slowly. A small blue stain spreads upon his tunic.

"Better, then," Einiss exclaims. Gelly tackles a thick bodied creature right as it opens its mouth to bite at Einiss. The young general jumps but turns back to the fight, silently.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Gelly pulls his dripping knife free from the scaled carcass, and leaps back into the fight. He clashes with a ball of spikes, propelled by spindly legs behind the armored front. His knife fails to penetrate the thick shell, and he's struck in the side by the thing's tail. The tail club clangs off of his armored side, bouncing off but forcing the Weapons Operative to stumble.

The tribal follows up with another strike, hitting Gelly in the neck. Gelly roars and punches the armored shell, snapping off a few spines, but doing no other damage. The tribal swings again, but this time Gelly impales the tail with his knife. Gelly rips the blade free, nearly severing the spiked mace at the end.

He grabs on with his other hand and pulls. Servos whine in his armor but the crack as the bones in the tail break are even louder. He releases it and steps back. It screams in rage, pushing forward with legs that seem too small.

Gelly crouches down and waits. When it hits his shoulder he pushes back, reaching down with both hands. He finds purchase and heaves. Something crackles in his suit's back, but the spiney carapace lifts up and past Gelly, putting him in reach of the vulnerable flesh of the creature.

"Ye think I could no fight a Nevlit?"

He stabs the thing in its soft face, piercing the nervous cluster. It falls behind him, heavy shell grinding against the stone.

Gelly looks around and sees Mos Einiss finishing off a pink creature with massive forelimbs. His brother stands beside him, exchanging blows with another of the creatures, batting its heavy claws aside with his spear. It roars at the tentacled alien, the fronds on its face rippling from the force.

Drev fights for his life against short creatures, barely as tall as Gelly's hip. Two of them harry the bigger warrior, ducking and darting away while the third tries to circle around his back. Drev stabs this one through its small torso and the other two charge at him while he's busy.

Another tribal swipes at Gelly from the side. The tribal snarls as it swipes its claws across his hardened vacuum armor. Gelly kicks, servos empowering the attack enough so that the eight-limbed alien crunches under the force. Brown lymph sprays across the lower half of his armor.

Turning to find a new opponent, Gelly realizes that the battle is over. Corpses litter the ground, none of them his companions'. He counts fourteen assorted tribal bodies nearby. Bruen and he had dropped as many more from range.

Somner Zek tends to Drev. One of his tentacles bears several shallow cuts that the healer wraps her own appendages around. She sags when she pulls away from the injury by the other robed alien. Under the thin layers of mucus coating only faded scars are visible.

Gelly had often wondered how they could return so quickly to battle after receiving debilitating injuries, and still isn't sure what he had just seen. He watches as Einiss' Somner, named Wev, follows after Zek to check on her. She's offered what Gelly assumes to be a health drink from a small vial before regaining her usual vigor.

"We should head deeper before we make camp," orders Bruen. "There was no chief with this group, so others may come looking for them."

"Best if we're elsewhere when they do," agrees Einiss.

When they stop for rest the robed aliens work together on Zek's project while the others put up small tents from Drev's pack. They eat the last of the fresh food carried by Drev; they will have to rely on travel rations after this.

Gelly strips off his armor after eating. It requires more repairs than he can give it, but he fixes a few smaller issues and circumvents burnt out components. If he stresses it much more, he fears he'll have to abandon it.

When they resume their travel, the tunnel winds upward. As they progress the temperature rises and the air becomes drier. After another day they come to a armed camp. There they are greeted by an elder. This elder's face is decorated with many scars, and his torso glows with runic energy.

"What took you so long? We were promised reinforcement days ago," he complains, his voice coming out of a vocoder.