Asteroid Blues

“Jesus, what a fucking disaster!”, Specialist Operative Burbitov said, shaking his head in an attempt to clear away the fog associated with the consumption of too much Ohktan, Whiskey, and beer. The two Caledonian Volunteers and the Chasseur could only nod in agreement, the four of them the only remnants of a large Ariadnan strike team that had been severely mauled by the local thugs of the Ikari Company.
After the fire fight, the four survivors had ditched their uniforms and equipment and slinked into Harry’s Bar, trying to avoid unwanted attention until they could a) drink away their sorrows, and b) plan a way to get out of the Strip and back to wherever it was the Ariadnans called home base.
Burbitov winced. So many fine patriots had died in the fight, cut down by the bullets and blades of Ikari Company. His former Lieutenant Tupilova, who had been decommissioned following the initial defeat at the hands of the state Emperor, had bled out on top of a shipping container. Burbitov had seen the legendary Yojimbo inflict severe casualties amongst the Ariadnan support elements.
Their own attempts at counterattacking had proved largely futile. It seemed that Ariadnan bullets were little match for the servo-assisted armour of the Ikari heavy infantry. Flanking attempts by Margot, Duroc and Van Zant had been stalled and then repulsed with little to show for their efforts. The three paratroopers were now MIA – no word yet on whether they were still alive.
“Well, Burbitov, at least we managed to kill the HVT—and you managed to kill that big bastard”, one of the Volunteers offered. It wasn’t much—not when compared to the cost in blood and the humiliation that Burbitov felt, but it was something. With almost the last shot of the skirmish, Burbitov had managed to put a fist sized hole through the stomach of an already heavily wounded Daiyokai Dengekitai. It was true that Burbitov did feel some satisfaction from killing it, especially given that their Lieutenant, who purported to be the legendary Vassily Plushenko, had disappeared in a red mist following a shootout with the monster. Burbitov couldn’t be sure it was the real Vassily—the real Vassily would’ve been smarter with his attack, he thought. Then he replied: “Yes, comrade, if there is a silver lining to this fucking dark cloud, it was killing that fucking thing.”
The party glanced over to a news cast being broadcast on a screen next to the booth. It seemed that Kitsune Fox Five were covering the skirmish. “This is us boys,” the Chausseur said quietly.
Private Miller, one of the surviving Volunteers looked at the screen. The anchor was switching to a reporter in the field, a certain Kisha Katayotta. Miller watched as the young reporter began interviewing Yusuf Nakayama, the Daiyokai Dengekitai operator. Miller studied Burbitov’s face as he digested the unwelcome news. He could see a look of cold fury pass over the Kazak’s face. Burbitov uttered several words in Kazak that Miller took to be obscenities. “This has to be more fucking fake news!” Burbitov said loudly.
Miller looked around. It seemed that Burbitov’s outburst had attracted the attention of other patrons of Harry’s Bar. “Fuck, Burbitov, you’ve done it now you nonce!” Miller said. “Let’s go!”
The four companions quickly left the warm embrace of Harry’s bar, stumbling back out onto the streets of The Strip. They desperately needed to find a way back through the Strip, back to whatever sanctity was to be found at the Xaraks Battery. It had been a mistake to come down to the Strip, Burbitov rued. The team had struck out on its own, hoping to find entertainment amongst the services the Strip had to offer, and they had paid for it dearly.