The company entered the remains of a large building, big broken domes for massive sections of the roof. It must have been an awe-inspiring building in its day, gleaming and shimmering under the triple suns of the Greivstor morn. With four of the company forming a semi-circle around the entrance, guns raised and primed focusing outwards for any mass launched attack, Killhide opened the main door.

"Killhide has returned!" he shouted into the gloom. "Come on. We're good here." The four ground units walked in backwards, guns still trained into the night. Once inside, two soldiers unknown to them closed the door before moving to places either side of it and removing a block of stone in the walls to act as arrow slits. They returned to their guns.

Killhide told his group to lower their weapons. 6651 felt uneasy about relinquishing this control but at Stellada pushing his hand down, he disarmed and re-holstered the 23-Beta. Killhide led them through darkened halls large enough to be hangers on Celestria for thousands of battleships they had stored there.

6651 stopped and listened. One of the two soldiers, whose names he didn't know, turned and looked at him. "Don't worry, no purples hiding in here. Safest place in Necrogate."

"Necrogate?" 6651 asked.

"Well, we've got to call the city something. Largest one around, the next one that's at least half the size is a third of the planet over to the east."

"East according to Celestria I assume, since this place has three suns."

"Celestria's got two of its own," the soldier pointed out.

"Not that we see them at all, not past The Veil at least."

"Touché to that, brother."

"No, I wasn't listening for attacks. I was just thinking that I couldn't hear any fighting above the planet."

The soldier looked up to the roof. "You're right. Maybe we won?"

"You think biomechs have that few resources? They're probably converting a hundred thousand prisoners as we speak," 6651 rebutted. The two fell silent on that disturbing thought.

Soldiers milled around as they descended down worn steps, stone and slick with moss and lichen. Soon there were rudimentary lights up in operation strung along the walls, and they emerged into an underground labyrinthine bunker. From the age of it, the pilot decided that the place had been more stumbled across than constructed deliberately. The pillars that held up the ceiling were of ancient masonry unknown to him, though that wasn't to say much, coming from Celestria, the metal planet. He knew very little about stone but decided that if he were to build a set of tunnels underneath a large building that looked to have been of great importance to the people of Necrogate, he wouldn't build it in the fashion he saw. It was archaic and yet familiar, like old plates inherited and passed down over the generations. 6651 felt uncomfortable looking too closely at it.

Killhide sent Stellada and the others to the beds and told them to report outside in 5 hours. He took 6651 by his armoured arm and pulled him aside. "6651, you're reporting to the top."

"The top, sir?"

"You're unaccounted for, and so you need to be."

"I need to sign in?"

"Something like that. This way."

6651 was taken down hallways lined with Halo-Screens showing maps and blueprints and footage of assaults across the planet. Occasionally there would be a flash and a screen would go dead. The sounds of activity, of guns from all sides, of shouting and crying out in pain, merged into the dead corridors' acoustics.

The pilot was taken before a door. Killhide motioned for 6651 to remain outside whilst he went in to explain the situation.

6651 moved from foot to foot, calm and not thinking of very much. He had always been rather plain and unimaginative. He just did as he was told and ambled through as best he could. He knew people, his brother for one, who were philosophers and inventors, working up at the top of Halo and CyberSleep, along with other great companies. He knew that there were people working on technology to create a digital interface that would connect the entire population in an alternate reality, though as it was being funded by the large companies in the first 5 regions of Celestria, 6651 had little hope for it being any good. Oh it would work most of the time, aside from the odd glitch or two that would wipe out ten thousand or so, but this would be mostly put down to new technology and ignored, or just shrugged off. Being a Celestrian meant you had a certain cynicism and lack of hope for your own planet, and The Empire just as much.

'6651,' he heard from inside the room. He collapsed his helmet into the collars of his armour and entered the room.

It was small and functional, a large projection table in the centre of the room with a hologram of the city on it. Several officers stood around looking it over. Three humans, two Soorvites, a Merkiosen, a Julliscor and a being that he had not seen before. Even in The Empire, you can't know everyone. The reptilian Merkiosen beckoned him over. "So you're the pilot." 6651 bowed. "Stop with the bowing. We're all in the same situation; having our asses handed to us. The purples are doing pretty well at wiping us out and we're already outnumbered three to one as it is on the ground. Celestria says they're sending in reinforcements from Androssios XVII but let's be honest, it's going to be too damn late. If something doesn't change in two days, we're pulling out and leaving this place to them." The Merkiosen was cold and blunt. 6651 could tell just by smelling him that he was under pressure.

"I saw a line of Trovation Black Thunders at Outpost...'

"They've come in and been blown apart, no remorse. They took down a thousand purples or so, but the buggers keep coming. Where from I don't know.' 6651 resisted the urge to reply 'us', feeling that that would probably earn him a blast through the eyes. The foundations of the room shook.

"6Y K-Crow has lost communications, Norususcelliar, sir," one of the Soorvites called from the corner. The man was frantically trying to contact the group through the Halo-Chip under his ear.

"Send out a patrol for them," Norususcelliar replied. He turned away from 6651 and studied the map before him. The Julliscor waved her large tentacle arms to move the map.

"They were near the perimeter, up on a ridge just outside the city,' she said, pointing to a spot of jungle.

"With permission to speak, sir," 6651 asked.

"Permission granted."

"I think I crashed near there. Is this map a live feed?"

"Yes it is," said the Julliscor. The pilot took his place near the side of the table, manoeuvring the map, swivelling it towards the city, zooming in and looking for the chasm.

"There, that clump of bushes, you can see my ship under it. I tried to camouflage it after I crashed. I didn't know what the situation was down here, so I did the best I could. There's an access hatch," he moved the map towards the edge, "just here. It comes out in one of the buildings down below. I could find it again if I was there, but here, they all look like the same building."

"6651, how would you like to lead your own little mission there?"