“What the fuck are you doing? Are you tripping Alice-in-wonderland, when we are on a black opp. This is cannibal sector! Storm the room, Stormer!”. Actually there was no need going at them so harshly, but it works. Lump isn´t the brightest model, so im getting paid having him live with me; making sure he gets something to eat and proper exercise. Truck could manage to live by himself, but since im already running day-care, he might as well taggle along. So when we are home, im their mother; when on opp, im their drill sergent. They like it that way – strict chain of command.

Imidiately they started to move. Lump shouldered his reaper; ready to lay down suppresive fire. Truck took a quick look, then made for the nearest cover just inside and to the left. I followed him closely. We entered a huge lab facility. Endless rows of glass growing-pods crisscrossed the room. Thick muck covered the floor and seemed to originate from the broken tubes. I had turned on my air-filtration, but I could still imagine want the stench must have been like – breath of a sickly carnivorous pig. Katie had put on her scouthelmet and was sitting right behind me. She was scanning the room: “Nothing living...´xept the bacteria. We are good”. Lump stood up, lowered his gun and came in. “It smells like home”, he said. “Don´t you have them clean their room, Hope?”. I could hear Katie grin behind her helmet. “I think he means Karma”, I whispered before turning around to face my stormers: “Allright, stop jerking around. We got a job to do. Find the core and shut it down. This facility is burning light, and what do I say about that boys?”. “It´s bad for the enviroment” they said simultaniously, like ashamed children reciting their bedtime schedule. “That´s right, and Slayer don´t like that. Our bird lands at 1930 for short pick-up. Move out!”

We hadn´t gone relly far when we saw the glow. A sickingly green emenating from one of the tubes. As we approached it the slight hum increased in sound. This one was not broken, and still on. The pod was about as tall as a human, set on a pedestal with controls, and egg formed. It was all mucky inside – no way of seeing what the hell was inside. I stood in wonder, as Lump asked me: “Is this the core, Hope?”. “No, that´s not a core – though I´ve no idea what the fuck it is”, I relpied. “Can I still turn it off, Hope?”. “Sure - that´s a good idea”, I didn´t really know what to say or think – but there was no point abandoning the pedagogical doctrines anyway. Lump pressed the button on the controls. The fluid in the tank began to lower rapidly, flushing out a hole in the bottom. As the water level sank, it gradually revealed a skeleton turned upside down. All the flesh washed off but the white bones ramained in there. All of a sudden Lump collapsed, as if he had fainted from terror – though I´ve never heard about a Stormer fear anything ecxept damage of SLA property. I rushed to him to see if he had been shot by silencer or knocked out by ebb. There was no sign of any attack. He´d just been struck by sudden coma. As I knelt down infront of the tube I saw the sight that had taken him down. Among the bones lay the skull of what was clearly a carrien. Quickly I turned around to Katie, only to see her smothered by Truck. He pointed his gun at me. “Put down you gun, Truck. It´s me, Hope!”. His hand was shaking, clearly figthing a struggle inside. He was weeping, like a small boy pissing his pants, crying over the inability to control his own bladder. “I can´t. I can´t”. I shouted at him from the top of my lungs, hoping that my cheap Orange-crush imitation would ring through: I´m your superior. My SCL outrankes you. This is a direct order: lay down your weapon, Stormer!”. For a second he removed his trigger-finger, but then he reasserted: “I´m sorry, mum. It´s SLA protocol”.