Another Day in the Desert

Side by side, they walked; tattered cloak that covers their crimson armor hung loosely, touching the ground as the desert wind blows past them. Their faces were obscured by the faceplate of their helmets, leaving any on-lookers guessing what their features might looked like. In every muffled footfalls, they leave a footprint on the sand which was quickly washed away by the wind. The taller figure reloaded his Scar-Light Assault Rifle, removing the empty clip and tossing it on the ground. His left free hand automatically reaching for the holstered magazines on his belt, snatching a fresh new one and attaching it on the feeder. He slapped it in, a satisfying click! could be heard. He cocked it back and held it with the barrel pointed upwards. His companion, a much more smaller and slimmer than him, revealed two sleek black pistols from beneath the cloak. The only distinguishable features between the two were the white trim on the smaller one, and the black trim on the taller one. The sun scorches hot in the sky but the two armored figure remained unaffected. The cooling pads inside their armor provides ventilation for the wearers. For them, it felt like they were walking in the mountains of Everest.
	Their black and white lenses glowed rhythmically as they focused on the little village ahead of them. They could see men in desert camouflaged uniforms, faces covered in white shamagh and their vests, covered in black tactical vests. AK -47s strapped across their chests. A clear sign of trouble. Most of them were mounted on Technicals; pickup trucks mounted with machineguns on the back. A black flag can be seen draping from one of the Technicals.
	"Target on sight." The slimmer one says, her mechanized voice were heavily disguised that made her sound like a growling monster.
	"Affirmative, Knifejack." The taller one replied. His voice was much more worse than the first. "Engage the enemy as instructed."
	"Roger, Swordcut." Knifejack replied as she started to increase pace.
	One of the armed men started to intercept the armored duo. When he was in earshot range, he yelled something in arabic but Knifejack was too fast to aim at that the man had not noticed her standing behind him. She aimed at the back of his head in pointblank range and fired. Blood and flesh escaped from the man's wound but the shamagh that envelopes his head prevents further flesh from spilling out. The gunshot rang across the village, alerting everyone in the vicinity. This has caused chaos to those in the Technicals. The men aimed their machineguns at the two and opened fire. Some of the armed men were on foot, some of them were mounted but in the eyes of the Protectorates they were fighting, they are nothing but dead men.
	Swordcut moved to the right, bullets following him. He stopped abruptly as he sighted an armed man and fired thrice before moving at the same direction again. He stopped after a few seconds and then jogged forward as he sighted another one and fired, bullets hitting his neck and head. His aim jumped at the next one and peppered him with bullets. The standard NATO rounds of the Scar-Light Assault Rifle had peneterated deep enough within the man's vest that his innards were damaged as soon as the Protectorate shot him. Swordcut rushed forward, heading towards a Technical. He could see its gunner and passenger firing at him while the driver was beside the car, kneeling a knee on the ground as he continued to fire bursts of rounds. Swordcut felt the bullets hitting his Praetorian Battle Armor but the Heaven-Forged tactical gear was impenetrable by mundane weapons. He continued his sprint, HUD Visor locking onto armed men but he ignored it. He was aiming for the hood of the Technical. With a jump, he ignited his left foot and launched at the hood of the Technical, where the machine was supposed to be located. He made contact and braced for the explosion, which immediately errupted. The flames engulfed the driver, passenger, gunner and nearby militants. The heated rounds loaded inside the machinegun popped and exploded, causing shrapnel bursts that damaged the nearby Technicals and killed farther militants in the vicinity. Rolling backwards, he sighted another militant trying to regain his stance. Before he could even raise his rifle, Swordcut sent another flying kick at the militant, causing him to collide with a red Technical whose gunner and driver missing. The Technical was sent crashing to the other one, causing another chain of explosion.
	On the other side of the battlezone, Knifejack dashed across the sand as she closes in to a militant. She raised her left pistol at pointblank range and fired twice before aiming her right pistol at the militant's chin and fired once. Blood exploded and sprayed like a fountain. She turned to the right and fired at a militant mounted on a Technical. The militant let out a few shots that missed but Knifejack had planted two bullets on the forehead of the enemy, giving him something to think about. She hopped and mounted herself on the Technical. Before pulling the machinegun from its tripod, she aimed at the rooftop of the driver's and passenger seat and fired. She could hear whimper and moan from inside. That's the only thing she needs to know. Hefting the machinegun, she aimed at the remaining Technical and fired. The gunner was too busy trying to shoot Swordcut, missing a lot. The Technical exploded as she hit the fuel tank, munitions of the machinegun and the engines on the hood. With the Technicals taken out, she dismounted from the Technical and aimed at the incoming militants coming from the small village from the north. Swordcut held the pole of their black flag with his armored hand. He crushed the pole, causing the flag to fall to the ground. He shot it three times and then stomped on it. Soon enough, it was set ablaze.
	"Brother, you are angering them." Knifejack says.
	"I do not care." Swordcut replied. "Overwatch Stance, sister. Let none live."
	They aimed at the approaching militants, their bullets occassionally hitting their Praetorian Battle Armor but mostly, they missed because they were firing their already inaccurate gun while charging at them.
	"Load your musket, sister." Swordcut instructed once more as he reloaded but Knifejack remained motionless. "Hold your ground." Swordcut stomped as a sign of aggressiveness while Knifejack squinted her eyes behind her facplate. "Open fire." Soon enough, the dying screams of the militants echoed across the desert even outside the small village they have raided.