Fire sputtered among the wreckage in the road, barely enough to make out ruined walls and architectural shells. The clear sky seemed to be siphoning the heat from the desert into the black, and crouching behind the makeshift barricades was shivering misery.

One of the two teens, tall, thin, and swarthy, crossed his arms and pulled his tan linen robe tighter. He shifted, trying to hold in some warmth and to find some position against the junk pile that wouldn't give him tetanus. His brown eyes were staring, short black hair hidden by keffiyeh . "Have they gone?" He muttered out of the side of his mouth, gritting his teeth.

The other peeked out over the top of their cover, looking like his companion but for a broader nose, firmer jaw, and stockier build. A few deadly crimson beams sought them out, and his partner dragged him back down. " Ittakil al Allah !" he yelled, "Go away! I need to piss and I want to sleep!"

Renewed laserfire answered him. "You forgot hungry," his friend observed wearily.

A flurry of bombs and shuttles had descended on the cityscape hours ago, timed to the second that the Georgian sun dropped below the horizon. Like clockwork, colouring everything twilight purple.

The space port had been entirely cleared, except, it seemed, for them. Once the invaders secured the area, they started building, scurrying around to set up some of the largest mounted guns either of them had ever seen. Glittering black-scaled cables radiated from the complicated-looking newtech like a forest of vile trees taking root.

"You think your little brother found a way through?" The outfit patrolling the streets were numerous, well-trained, and well-armed.

Some strange cross between wistful, proud, and grim, bitter memories of slavery and helplessness raged behind the cheeky reply. "Just fine. Niska's best greaseman, years of experience, and the ghabi haiwan don't have half a brain between them."

The quieter of