That was good news, even though ill-timed. The defense system they would meet coming from the North was a bit more nefarious than the all-out shootout method of the Eastern defenses in that they were meant to slow and trap attackers as much as possible as they were being shot at by other turrets.

"Looks like this party is cut short for now folks. It's just Tribals, so it shouldn't take long. They usually route once they realize the extent of our defenses, but we need everyone with a weapon outside right now. They will be arriving at the first turret any minute now." Trigger was always ready for battle. It was always around the corner on this harsh planet, after all.

They were outside and ready in minutes. On the other side of the courtyard from the main door to the inside of the base, before the Eastern defenses and just North, there was a room cut into the other mountainside where all the batteries were kept. Before that door, there were two turrets aimed at the Northern entrance where another turret was cut into the side of the hallway.

The attackers would always stop and attempt to destroy that first turret, and the turrets would fire upon them the whole time along with Trigger who was there between the two turrets with his minigun, resting it on the sandbag. All in position now, they heard the war chants getting closer and closer, followed by the shouts of gunfire and clanging that meant they reached the first turret.

There were always more Tribals than Pirates, but they only had appropriate spears, swords, slings, and pila. A pang of ominous energy hit him right in the gut, and Trigger wasn't sure what that meant. He hadn't had a feeling like this since...Ol' Walt was crushed. That couldn't be good.

Trigger fired at them, trying to keep them from ever making it through the hallway with suppressive gunfire. This minigun had been hard earned but he was always convinced that it was worth it. As the gun had to cool down, however, he could not keep constant fire and he was forced to watch one run out, then two and three following that one.

The first one tried to hug the mountain wall but ended up running into Mushinto and his blade waiting right there for just that reason. In two swings he struck the Tribal down, and Trigger was distracted for that fateful moment.

Looking back to the hallway just in time, his one good eye opened wide as the bionic right eye locked onto the Pila flying towards him. He had no time to react, and it pierced his power armor, amazingly, and went through his gut.

He heard Mort scream a dramatic, high-pitched, "Nooooo!" from behind him, and fell back. He felt little pain, and knew that he should have been feeling more, but stood back up slowly and looked to that person that had hit him, gripping his minigun again trying not to mind the blood he was losing. In his mind, the object would stop the blood loss somewhat. Finally, he met familiar eyes and realized who it was that threw the Pila.

Cambiar. The only prisoner to ever escape had returned for vengeance. Now he was the one wearing the smirk, and as Trigger opened up fire to wipe that smirk off his face, he moved back into the crowd, retreating as he accomplished his personal goal.

Trigger would kill his friends, then, and defiantly wear a smirk the whole time. He felled four personally, Mushinto killing another two and Mort sniping off one or two with her M-24. There were several dead, and several others bleeding out in shock. Realizing their defeat, the rest of them turned to run, and Trigger collapsed back in some amount of relief and blacked out.

Upon his awakening, he was surrounded by several people in the Medical Ward. They seemed pleased that he was awake but they seemed grim as well. It was Morticia, Dick, and Mushinto, everyone else had been currently busy.

"Why the long faces? I just took a little nap." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. At this, Morticia burst into emotion and had to excuse herself from the room, covering her mouth to spare her the embarrassment. Mushinto and Dick looked down, trying to avoid looking Trigger in the eyes. Finally, Dick took a breath and met his good friend, his leader's eyes.

"John." Dick tried to start off, using his first name purposefully to help reaffirm the seriousness of the situation. It worked, and Trigger was serious again immediately. He had never liked the name his father gave him. "I'm afraid the projectile destroyed your stomach. I couldn't save it, and I'm afraid we aren't able to get you a new one. Can't tranplant stomachs..."

"What?" Trigger seemed confused, "Is this a joke? You can transplant a heart, a liver, a lung, even kidneys, but not a stomach? I don't even feel any pain!" He was panicking, though he didn't mean to show it.

"John, I know this is hard to understand, harder to accept...but...-"

"But what, Dick? What are you going to try to tell me to make me accept this?" Lashing out now out of anger, Trigger suddenly felt bad but couldn't take it back in time. Dick didn't have a response, and after bowing his head slightly, promptly left the room after whispering just loudly enough, almost choking up,

"I'm sorry, John. I can't save you this time."

"Fuck me...I didn't mean that..."

"I know, Trigger." Mushinto hadn't said anything before then, and the way he said it took the anger right out of Trigger. "I know it is difficult to hear, but we all had to hear it. Dick was the only one who had the balls to say it and even that cold bastard got choked up. To hear that there is nothing we can do, to know that all hope is lost..." He looked up to the ceiling, trying to blink back the tears. He failed, wiping them away instead and trying to shake himself from the grip of his emotions.

"You know," He started again after a brief silence of thought between the two of them, "It's one thing to be a warrior, to kill people for land or food, to lose people and take lives in battle. To lose a friend who is an integral part of you, especially one younger than you, that can really kill people on the inside. Mort was broken up more than anyone, I didn't know you two were close."

"Neither did I." Trigger felt like he had missed a lot in his role as leader. "Did Dick say how long I have?" Maybe he could rectify that.

"The only thing you can't do is eat or drink, and that means you'll starve to death if you don't take the...other option." They both knew what the other option was.

"So about three days, then?" Mushinto nodded in response grimly. "Then would you please bring us some cake, so we can enjoy some of it together for your birthday, old friend?" Mushinto looked surprised at his request at first, realizing how selfless his younger friend was being in the face of death, and nodded.

As he stepped out to go do as he was asked, he paused outside the door to shed a tear of frustration. It was certainly a shame to lose such a brilliant man. He was certainly a very bright light that illuminated the Colony even in the darkest times. It didn't matter that he was a cold asshole sometimes, he was the leader they needed, the one who had made them see hope from the very beginning.

While Mushinto got cake, Trigger reached to his commlink to reach out to Morticia.

"Mort?" It took a few moments for him to hear a shaky response.

"Y-yes, Commander?"

"Why don't you return and join Mushinto and I for some birthday cake?" She didn't respond this time, and he wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but the thought process was interrupted by Mushinto's return and he gave a weak attempt at a smile even though it was difficult.

They both enjoyed their cake in silence. Trigger was able to eat, but not digest food. So, he just chewed and tasted the food, then spit it back out. Mushinto paid this usually disgusting act no mind, enjoying his piece of birthday cake with one of the only people he cared about on this forsaken rock. Somehow, Mushinto was overcome with peace, feeling as though everything was going to be okay. He couldn't explain it, and didn't try, but it was somewhat reassuring.

After eating in silence, they began to chat for a while. They hadn't spoken casually in a while, and they shared some stories they had neglected to share previously, some particularly exciting and dramatic ones that they usually saved for special occasion parties. The time never felt right to share these kinds of stories with colonists out here on this world in the outer rim.

After a while, Trigger decided he wanted to get up and walk around the base. For the first time in a long time, he was walking around in casual clothes, complete with his favorite duster and cowboy hat. Everyone he passed had heard the news. They gave him soft smiles of sympathy. It wasn't what he wanted, but he understood where it came from. Mushinto walked with him, and they enjoyed a nice walk outside the safety of the walls.

"I have to say. I'm gonna miss you being around."

"I know. Don't mourn for me, but carry on and keep all those knuckleheads in line." Mushinto smiled at this, almost beginning to tear up but fighting the urge to let loose. Instead, they hugged in a manly way and then continued as if it never happened.

"I want you to take Doug under your wing. I know you already have taught him a good bit, but I really need you to mold him into the leader that can take my place." Mushinto nodded like a sage, agreeing that this was the best path to take in securing the colony's future hierarchy.

"You're really going to have to be tough on him, you kn-...what is this?" They were both now looking at what had Trigger confused. They were looking at a cliffside, but they both noticed that something was off. They approached and felt the surface of what was supposed to be a rough mountainside. Instead, it was much smoother. Trigger was quick to sound off over the commlink again.

"Miners, report to my location: One Kilometer Northeast of the Northern exit."

-tbc-