Carson's head was spinning as he sat alone in the tent. Another Hunter slipped inside to make sure he didn't try anything, but they may as well not have bothered. He couldn't move, and wasn't in the right state to come up with a plan anyway. Sarah Stark. His sister, apparently. It didn't make any sense, but he could see the resemblance. She had the same green eyes, the same curly brown hair, the same chin. The problem was that she simply couldn't be his sister, not by blood. His parents were both dead, dead and gone... although he had never seen their bodies or confirmed they were truly gone.<i>Believe nothing until you see it.</i>His own credo, but he hadn't followed it. What if...?<br/><br/>His thoughts were disturbed by distant shouting and the sound of metal on metal, and he twisted his head to try and see the tent flaps. "What the hell?" he muttered. The guard gave him a shove and a warning grunt, but half a heartbeat later the flaps burst open and another Hunter barged inside. He half expected the other to rush out to help, or for some order to be barked out, but instead the two clashed violently together. Their fight knocked the table with his things over, and he swore under his breath as his ammo and weapons scattered across the ground. Before he could do more than that, though, the fight was over, the newcomer killing his guard with a swift kick and a swifter blade. He resisted the urge to spit as they leveled their face with his own, but the moment the helmet came away he was distinctly glad that he hadn't. "Malia...?"<br/><br/>Carson kissed her back, and as soon as the ropes were gone he stood and held her face in both hands. "Damn it," he whispered, "why did I ever tell you to stay behind?" He kissed her a second time and stepped around her to retrieve his weapons, but froze when Max slipped inside. He felt his gut coil and clench with rage, and when she looked at him he shook his head. "Max led a group of Hunters behind our battle lines, specifically to capture me. For all intents and purposes he's with the Vanguard now, Malia. An enemy, no matter what he did for you."<br/><br/>He watched the confrontation play out, Malia aiming her gun at Max, and he shook his head slowly. "I know he means something to you. I know he saved you. But he wanted me dead, Lia. He must have come here to make sure I didn't escape." He waited, though, and when she fired and missed--entirely on purpose--he scowled. It vanished as soon as she touched him again, and he put his hands on her waist. Sunny was here, too? That made sense. At least she hadn't come entirely alone. As for her question, he shook his head a little. "I don't know yet. But I'll fill you in later--for now we have to move." He turned away again to pick up his pistol, rifle, and knife. The ammunition and grenades would have to stay. He slung on the vest quickly, though, then seized one of the handheld bombs and yanked the pin. "Move it," he told her, and tossed it down amid the rest of the munitions. If he couldn't bring it back he wouldn't leave it to be used by their enemies.<br/><br/>The two of them emerged into chaos, Max already long gone. Sunny still fought near the center of the camp, ringed by half a dozen Hunters, all of them carrying blades or clubs. The Strider was smeared with blood, her stolen outfit matted and crimson all across the front. She had discarded her skull helmet and wrested an axe from one of her enemies, both of her weapons stained red all along their edges. As they watched three of her foes rushed her at once, and she moved like a hurricane, sliding between their attacks like the wind itself. Her knife bit into the ribs of one attacker as her axe deflected a blow from the second. She spun and threw the dying man at the third man, leaving the knife buried in the corpse so she could continue her spin and deliver a two-handed blow to the second attacker. The weapon bit through his hand when he tried to catch it, and he screamed before her second cut caught his throat.<br/><br/>She looked up, chest heaving, and raised her fist in salute to Carson and Malia. "GO!" she roared, and twisted to deflect another attack. A brief flurry of blows later and a third Hunter died, falling across the first she'd slain. The third man that had come at her was still on the ground, and she took a moment to execute him before turning to face the last two. What she didn't see was the way a patch of ground behind her lifted with a life of its own, a shaggy suit of dead grass and dust falling away to expose a Hunter who wore a wolfshead helmet over her grinning head. Her blade flashed, the same blade that had taken Oliver's life catching the sunlight as she darted in behind Sunny.<br/><br/>Carson couldn't act quickly enough. The instant he'd seen movement he'd reached for his rifle, snatching the weapon to his shoulder and aiming down its length. He lined up the sights with Sarah's helmeted head and pulled the trigger, but the weapon only clicked. He swore and yanked the charging handle, a round sliding into the chamber as he dropped to his knee to steady his aim. "SUNNY!" he screamed, aiming a second time, but it was too late.<br/><br/>She turned in time for the blade to bite through the bloodsoaked furs and armor beneath, piercing through her stomach and out the other side. Her eyes widened as she looked down at the steel thrust through her gut in utter disbelief, but the scream of pain as the sword came back out was real enough. Carson's bullet reached the scene a heartbeat after, a loud<i>snap</i>ripping the air as it shattered the bony helmet. The Hunter stood, ripping away the destroyed armor, her temple bleeding and a ferocious grin on her face. She held up two fingers to Carson, lifting her bloody sword over her head in triumph as she stepped around behind Sunny. Carson's breath caught in his throat and he struggled to aim again, lining his sights up with Sarah's bloody temple.<br/><br/>Before he could shoot, though, a battle cry ripped through the twilight air.<i>"WARRIORS! WHAT IS OUR CALLING?"<br/>
<br/>
"WAR!"<br/>
<br/>
"WHAT IS OUR PRIZE?"<br/>
<br/>
"BLOOD!"<br/>
<br/>
"WHAT IS OUR CURRENCY?"<br/>
<br/>
"STEEL!"<br/>
<br/>
"OOH-RAH, OOH-RAH, OOH-RAH!"<br/>
</i><br/>An instant later an explosion ripped through the wall near the knot of Hunters who still stood, sending half of them sprawling to the ground. Carson saw Sarah turn away as a stream of fighters came pouring in, the survivors from his six squads and six more to reinforce them, and he seized the moment. "Come on, Malia!" he cried, lifting and breaking into a sprint. He only stopped to shoot again, putting a round through Sarah's arm as she tried to finish Sunny off, and he saw his sister turn to vanish among the tents and the chaos. He put her from his mind for the time being, focused instead on Sunny as she slumped over onto the ground.<br/><br/>He slid to a halt next to her, shouldering his rifle to lift his pistol instead. A Hunter stupid enough to charge them lost his head, the heavy 12mm round punching through bone and steel and flesh like it were paper. In seconds the fight had spiraled on past them, and Luke jogged up, dark circles under his eyes but a grin on his face. "You told me to haul ass, right?" he quipped, then he saw Sunny laying bloody and shocked next to the Strider. "Oh, fuck," he breathed, and turned to rush back through the hole in the wall.<br/><br/>Over the next hour it became clear what all had happened. Luke explained that as soon as Malia and Sunny had taken off he had gone to find Natya, who had rounded up six more squads and set out within a few hours of the two other women. Luckily, Natya had decided to bring along a Growler, one Letto had modified to have a sidecar attached, and as soon as Sunny was bandaged and medicated into unawareness she was carefully put into the sidecar and the two set out back for Central to rush her into TRIM. The forces that had come to fight cleaned up what remained of the Hunters, though maybe four or five had managed to escape into the wilderness. The camp was sacked; tents that could be salvaged were taken down, supplies that could be taken were packed, and the rest was all piled up and burnt.<br/><br/>It was another couple of hours before they could all finally stop to rest, back at the original defenses Carson had set up. He was pleased to see that the walls that had been taken down were either rebuilt or reinforced in some other way, and the ones that still stood were even more heavily patrolled now. Carson found himself and Malia in one of the captured tents, and before any rest could happen he got to work binding her hands up. "I'm not very good at hand injuries," he murmured, "but I think you got lucky, here. Managed to avoid any serious damage and just sliced the meat." He finished wrapping and moved to put his hands on her hips, pressing his forehead against hers as he held her.<br/><br/>"Thank you," he whispered. "I have... a lot to tell you. But I can promise you one thing." He looked her in the eye, his voice soft and solemn. "I'm not going to make you stay behind ever again."