Axle Riggs

Axle woke in darkness. He felt smothered, but not like he was being crushed. He couldn’t seem to sit up, as something heavy was on top of him. Taking a moment to collect his anger, he burst from the rubble, like an angry bear from a cave. He stood in the drop ship's back end, or what was left of it.

When the first hit came, it tore the ship in half, killing Cross. A second shot, knocked Salvatore loose, and sent the hind quarters into a tail spin. Axle had shot up from his seat to try and catch the Latin woman, but she had been gone. Having ripped his harness, when he stood up, he moved toward the back, to brace for impact.

A third shot, hit, shearing part of the descending hunk of metal, reversing the spin, and shearing off the sides of the ship. Then it hit the ground, and he was bounced like a rag doll and buried beneath lockers, and debris.

He had lost his shot gun on the first hit, when he went for Salvatore. His hand cannon was missing, having fallen somewhere. He looked around trying to find a salvageable weapon from the lockers, but everything was busted up. He was unarmed, though at close range, that was never really true. In melee combat, he was the weapon.

Moving out from the wreckage, he looked at the dotted fires, and twisted scrap that lay in a long line out across the sands. Turning slightly he noted a pile of scrap metal, shaped like a town. It was his fault they died. Or well, his fault that they had come to this planet. After one of their missions in which they lost the majority of their regiment, they had been immediately dispatched on another suicide mission, no down time at all. Cross had tried to reason with them. But they wouldn’t listen. That colonel heard the sound of his jaw break though. Nearly killed the man. When the fight broke out, Cross had jumped in, and the other two followed. It was how they got discharged. Only their exemplary record, especially Commander Cross's, kept them from a brig. Still, he didn’t feel bad. They had been right to leave the military. Times were hard. He was however, sad to see his comrades die. Especially in the air, without getting to fight back.

With a soft sigh, the big man began his journey across the arid land, heading for the town. It took him nearly thirty minutes to reach his destination Entering the twisting alleys, he made his way toward the center. Not far into the place, he spotted a man walking his way with a shot gun, pointed at the ground.