id: 540
name: Tunnel Rats
author: RatAnon
date: 21st September 2021
text len: 36543
views: 215

>Be unnaground, innatunnel
>Scooting forward on my elbows and toes through the Earth's fucking sphincter
>Pitch black, save the fuzzy yellowish beam of salvation coming from my flashlight
>Doing my best to keep my revolver pointed at the abyss in front of me
>Never fucking know when the fucking gobs will jump you
>Some of the other rats say you can smell them coming after enough time doing this
>My nose only picks up the dusty scent of ancient earth and stone
>I squeeze my legs through the passage and raise to a crouch, continuing onward
>Tap the charge strapped to my hip, making sure it didn't get lost in the squeeze
>All good, not even a-
>I hear breathing
>Kill my light, quietly take a breath and hold it
>It's a primal, wet rasping
>that's a fucking gob alright
>It's getting louder too
>I press myself against the wall as best I can, revolver still aimed ahead
>Slowly draw another breath as I hear it close the last bit of distance, a faint flickering light growing brighter
>A lone goblin rounds the corner, a scrappy pipe gun in one hand and candle in the other
>He freezes
>I fire
>38 special round rips into his chest and he drops
>This episode is brought to you by the letter EEEEEEEEEEEEE 

>Make mental note to find my earpro
>Sit dumbfounded for a second, until I notice the wall ahead getting brighter
>He wasn't alone. 
>Rip the det charge off my hip and slap it to the ceiling above me
>That'll have to do
>Clip the cord spool to my belt and start booking it the way I came
>Slide my feet through first so I can shoot back
>The light behind me is getting brighter, I can almost hear rasping over the tinnitus I've given myself
>Squeeze my ass through the narrow section and start the crawl out
>"Jesus fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck" is my current mantra
>Blast interrupts my chanting and a hot pain strikes my thigh
>I point my snubbie behind me, between my legs, and fire two shots
>don't think I hit shit
>Crawling at a painfully slower pace now, but I see the entrance ahead
>Headlamps bobbing and shouting
>Hands reach in and grab me as I approach, the rock across from the tunnel entrance erupting into sparks as I fall to the floor
>Stout sillouette grabs my shoulder and shouts at me
>"Gimme the cord!"
>I unclip the reel from my belt and thrust it into the guy's hand
>A few seconds later, the walls shudder and dust erupts from the hole
>Just another day in paradise 

>spend a few days in the med tent 
>Wound in my thigh missed important things, somehow 
>Getting wounded got me out of two tunnel trips, I'm told
>leaving the med tent when a dwarf with slightly less dirt than normal hurriedly approaches me
>"Hey Moglin, I-"
>"Save your breath" the dwarf pushes his glasses back onto his nose and reads off his clipboard
>"The medic says you're good to go, so you're up next"
>Not even a minute off medical leave and I'm back to it
>I sigh, "Alright where'd they find this one?"
>Moglin flips a page on his clipboard, holds it up for me to see, and taps the page with his pencil
>"They opened up a new shaft today. No gobs have crawled out of this one, but they think it's a big one." 
>"And they want someone else to risk their skin, to check it out." 
>The dwarf rolls his eyes and looks through his clipboard pages impatiently 
>"Right, how much are you getting paid?"
>"Fair point. Headed down now."
>"Bring gear, if they're right, it'll be the largest one yet."
>I start off toward the barrack tent
>"We'll see, won't we?" 

>I packed an assault pack, just in case the drill team was right
>Broke down my dissipator into the upper and lower, slide it into the bag last
>Put a few magazines in there too, obviously
>I'll have my snub-nose on me, but it never hurts to be extra prepared
>Sling my bag over my shoulder and grab a gear line from from the rack and click my light on before entering the shaft
>Tunnels are usually too narrow for guys to wear bags on their back
>so any gear we bring that isn't slim or small enough gets pulled in after
>might get snagged or stuck, but it's closer than coming back up
>Finally reach the part of the mine that the tunnel is in
>A dwarf work crew is crowded around a hole in the floor, two human silhouettes standing above them
>One of them waves at me as I approach
>"Hey Dink, you feeling better?"
>It's Grant
>Grant and I met way back, we're some of the only idiots to think the pay here is worth the trouble 
>I nod "Definitely going to be sore for a sec, but I'll be alright." 
>The other sillouette cracks a chemlight and shakes it over the tunnel
>"Hopefully not too much, this is a big job today."
>I don't recognize this guy, but again, people come and go pretty regularly here
>"What makes it big?" I ask, finally reaching the center of the mass of Dwarves
>Grant pipes up again "Old maps say a gob settlement is in this part of the rock, and there's a hefty breeze coming from this tunnel."
>Ah shit 

>A breeze usually means it's connected to the outside somehow, and that usually means caves
>caves usually mean big groups of goblins
>I clip my gear line to my assault pack and clip the other end to my waist
>"Anyone see anything down there yet?"
>Not-Grant drops his chemlight into the tunnel
>"Nope, but a rat went into a tunnel near here yesterday. He hasn't come back." 
>"Who was it?" 
>"Beats me, some new guy I think."
>I shrug. "I'll keep an eye out." 
>I slide my legs into the tunnel and slide my bag to the edge beside me
>I point at Grant and then to my bag
>"When I pull on the line three times, put my bag down in after me." 
>He gives me a thumbs up
>"Good luck."
>"Thanks" I mutter
>Then I drop into the abyss 

>The tunnel slopes downward for a few yards and evens out.
>I reach the bottom without issue and take in my surroundings
>Nowhere near enough room to stand, but just enough to crouch instead of crawl
>I don't know if this is a goblin tunnel or not
>The walls have been carved out, but it doesn't look like their usual handiwork
>I pull on my gear line three times, wait for the slack, and pull my bag to me.
>head down the tunnel in a crouch, pulling my bag after me every few yards
>I can definitely feel a breeze passing though here every so often
>It's getting stronger too
>My boots splash into a puddle as the tunnel begins to widen
>There's water and mud everywhere, not enough to drown in, but enough to get my bag wet if I keep dragging it
>Stow the gear line in my bag and sling it onto my back
>continue through the muck in a high crawl
>such is rat life
>breeze is definitely getting stronger 

>I can see the tunnel ahead opens up
>I can finally fucking stand
>a soft blue light is reflecting onto the floor puddles a few feet ahead
>Draw my snubnose and kill my light
>wait and listen
>Nothing but the breeze
>Proceed ahead slowly, placing my feet carefully
>Tunnel opens into a cave
>A massive fucking cave
>A shrowded forest of barren trees stretches out in front of me
>Blue illumination blankets the wood, scattering across the floor in shards like shattered glass
>The closest wall of this place is covered in massive blue patches of glowing... something.
>Moss maybe? Whatever it is, it's where the light is coming from
>I can't see the other walls of the cavern and the ceiling only fades into the distance above
>droplets of water gently rain down from somewhere overhead
>It's all beautiful, in an unnerving kind of way
>stand gawking at the sight for... who knows how long
>gunfire breaks me out of my trance
>It's in the forest ahead, sounds like someone magdumping
>Sling my bag off my back assemble my rifle
>Slip on earpro and grab three mags, curse myself for not packing a chest rig as I slide them into my pockets 
>Throw my pack back on and double time into the wood 

>navigate as best I can by the splotches of blue that made it through the dead branches above, but I'm still tripping every few feet
>Decide to keep my light off in case I need to surprise someone, although my constant tripping into puddles is probably already giving me away
>Another magdump
>I'm close
>Creep ahead slowly, see a humanoid sillouette firing wildly into the darkness
>position myself in a shaded area beside a larger trunk
>bring my rifle up and watch for his targets
>He's probably the missing rat, but I don't want to give myself away to whatever is after him
>Hear a quiet "thwunk"
>the pistoleer cries out
>He drops to the ground, one of his hands grabbing at his chest
>He falls backward into a beam of light
>It's our rat alright, guy has a blue company shirt on his chest
>and a nasty looking arrow sticking out of it
>look of abject horror written on his face
>what the absolute fuck have I walked into 

>I sit as motionless as I can, my rifle sights hovering over the fallen rat
>his lifeless face is staring past me, eyes unfocused and glassy
>I scan the area in front of me
>not a single fucking thing
>wait
>the shadows are moving
>I can barely make out the darkness between the lighted areas shifting ever so slightly
>The thing elegantly dances through the darkness, barely grazing the beams of light that would betray its features
>it freezes just before the body of the rat
>a sillouette materializes in the darkness, it's posture straightening until it reaches a frightening height 
>it steps into the light, staring down at the body of the rat
>/k/ube almighty, what the fuck is that?
>Its stony gray skin is hard to make out, even in the light
>Its hair is a stark white in contrast, but it's pulled back behind its head to reveal sharply pointed ears
>it slings a bow as large as I am tall onto its back and glances around
>It's eyes are a reflective red, like a cat's, but with round pupils 
>I lean further behind my tree as it glances, hoping to Christ it hasn't seen me
>I hesitate a few seconds and return to watching the thing
>I can see it staring upwards, into whatever passes for a sky here as it's abnormally long fingers close around something on its belt and pulls it free
>it grasps a crude looking knife and its gaze lowers to the deceased man on the ground 

>it starts
>fucking
>skinning
>him
>I'm staring, wide eyed, as this fucker begins to desecrate a man's body
>my comrade's body
>I feel the terror and rage building in my chest as I adjust the grip on my rifle, making a mental check of what pockets my magazines are in
>I take a deep breath, sound discipline be damned
>The thing freezes in its work, looks up at me, and it smiles
>it smiles the most sinister fucking grin I have ever seen
>This fucker knew I was watching
>"I don't know where we are, but I'm sending you lower, you son of a bitch."
>I squeeze the trigger
>With how it was crouched, I don't think there was a way I could have missed
>It certainly found that out when 55 grains of copper-jacketed lead smacked into his face at 3100 feet per second 
>His body immediately collapsed over the half-dessicrated body of what was the missing rat
>I slowly rise to my feet and creep forward, my sights aligned on his limp figure the entire way
>I kick its head
>There's no breathing
>Someone just bought a farm
>I pull the body onto its back to get a look at what I'm dealing with
>It's more human than I thought
>I can't make out his face anymore, for obvious reasons, but he definitely bleeds red
>He's like a tall, lean, human
>so maybe an elf?
>But elves aren't gray and they sure as shit don't live down here 

>I turn my attention over to the rat
>I reach over to his neck and pull off his tag
>The company mandates we wear them, for reasons like this
>I try not to look at the mess that is his torso as I round his body and kneel by his head
>I close his eyes as best I can and stand back up
>I'd like to bury him, but if there are more of those big ass things around, I need to move
>Looking back over at the dead ash colored... thing, I see a glinting on the left hand
>It's on his pinkie, a silver band
>You know what? I'm taking it
>Slide it off his hand and into my pocket
>I don't usually loot my enemies, but most of my enemies don't skin people
>I cradle my rifle in my arms and start jogging back the way I came
>something tells me this place is hell


>I reach the edge of the wood, by the wall of the cavern
>I don't see the tunnel anywhere
>I feel the slow creep of panic grab the edge of my mind as I scan the wall again, looking for any sign of my escape from this hellscape
>I take a deep breath and start moving to my right
>Maybe I misjudged my path, land nav isn't easy in this place
>I round a particularly large tree and my eyes immediately rest on the tunnel 
>I take a step toward it when I notice it 
>something is there already
>a lot of somethings are there already
>a dozen or so human-sized sillouettes dot the area around the tunnel
>they aren't standing guard or anything, they're just... meandering through the area
>There's no way it's the company, not enough Dwarves
>or machines
>besides, Moglin would have had to mark the tunnel as cleared before anyone would be allowed down
>In short, no way it's company men
>I take a knee and try to see, well, anything about what I'm dealing with
>My eyes lock on one of the shapes as it approaches a particularly bright patch of blue
>It's another one of those gray... elf... things?
>It's a she
>her skin is paler than that of the one I killed, like hot ash underneath a campfire
>her hair is a jet black and an absolute mess
>her eyes are the same reflective style as big brother, but blue
>looking at her face is like looking at a stone, no emotion at all
>she passes out of the light and I turn my attention toward the rest of the group 

>I really should be calling it a herd
>they're all aimlessly wandering, but none are leaving the immediate area of the tunnel
>more of them pass into light patches
>all of them have black or white hair, varying shades of gray skin, and shades of blue, red, green, and yellow reflective eyes
>Congrats Dink, you've found a new race of psychopathic underground... somethings
>My eyes are immediately pulled to a section of the wood on the far side of the group
>the shadows are moving again
>oh fuck
>I slowly stand, glancing around for any more shifting
>My fucking boot slips
>I slam face first into a puddle, and there's no way it didn't make noise
>I roll out of the puddle and get to my feet, rifle luckily still in my hand
>I can hear the breeze in my right ear
>that's not the fucking breeze
>I pivot and raise my rifle only to see a blur of dark gray roll to my right
>something rips my rifle out of my hands
>I turn to face whoever grabbed it, fists balled, when my rifle is suddenly returned to me
>butt first
>in my gut
>I'm on my ass sucking wind as another human-sized sillouette approaches me slowly
>I can make out that this one is a dude, like a mini version of the big one that killed the rat 
>I scurry backward, flinging mud and water into the air
>I do my best to speak
>to ask in a comprehensible and composed, but slightly irritated voice what it was and what it wanted
>all I manage is a panicked wheezing that sounds like an out of tune harmonica
>mini bastard seems to think my attempt at communication is absolutely hilarious
>He slows down his approach and reaches behind his back
>I reach for my holster 

>I grab nothing
>I pat my thigh
>where there is normally a walnut wrapped model 60 grip, there is nothing 
>mini bastard isn't missing his weapon
>a knife, identical to the one his bigger friend had, is now clutched in his hand
>All those stories about guys keeping their composure when they're out of options?
>this isn't one
>the panic train has left the station and there is no conductor
>I'm in the middle of operation backward scurry two, the final boogaloo when a shot pierces the air
>I stare wide eyed as my would be killer drops into a heap on the floor
>I hear a clatter and a cry of surprise
>One of the wandering sillouettes rushes to the body, pulling on its arm and sobbing between babbles of gibberish
>I stare, wide eyed at the body on the floor until I can't hear my heart anymore 
>I clamor to my feet, locate my rifle and scoop it up, brushing it and myself off
>I flick off the safety and approach the scene in front of me at low ready
>The first silhouette I described?
>The one with blue eyes?
>It's her, and those eyes have to be mini oceans with how much water they're putting out 
>"I'msorryI'msorryI'msorrypleasedon'tbemadIpromise..."
>The gibberish has fully merged with the sobbing into a stream of apologies and tears
>I stop just short of the scene and aim my rifle between her and the body
>"What the fuck just happened?" 

>She's dropped to her knees now, head in her hands 
>Words cannot describe how fucking confused I am 
>I feel awful just standing here watching her cry 
>Quickly glance around the area 
>The other wandering figures have either left or are in the process of doing so 
>it looks like they're in a hurry too 
>I turn my gaze back to the scene in front of me 
>It hasn't changed 
>Feel another pang of guilt slide its way into my chest 
>I begin to scream expletives internally as I sling my rifle over my shoulder, against all my better judgement, and reach out for the crying woman's shoulder 
>"Hey uh..." 
>She flinches as I touch her 
>Her eyes flick up to meet mine as she wraps her arms around herself 
>"I-I didn't mean... It made a noise, I didn't know..." 
>The tears start welling again 
>I throw a glance to the area behind her, just right of where I was heroically scooting for my life 
>a muddied, but still very shiny model 60 lies on the stone floor 
>more material for the never ending ND pasta 
>I kill the shocked grin that flashes over my face and turn back to the waterworks 
>"Hey hey hey, it's alright." 
>my voice is raspy, but I try my best to soften my words 
>I raise my hands 
>something in my brain tells me to sit my rifle aside, but I'm not that much of a retard 
>She inches further from me 
>I lower my arms 
>"What's your name?" 
>"I don't... what?" 
>She stares at me confused, as if she suddenly forgot what she was looking at 
>"What are you?" she murmurs, it sounds like she's asking herself more than she's asking me 
>"My name is Dink. I'm a human." 
>Her eyes flash from fearful confusion to apprehension in an instant 
>Her posture doesn't change, but her body tightens like a coiled snake 
>She looks me over, then rests her narrowed eyes on my face 
>"Humans are a myth." 

>The fuck? How am I supposed to respond to that? 
>"I don't know what to tell yo-"
>"Are you a beautiful one? They have whiter skin."
>Was that a complement? 
>"I-" I begin to stammer 
>"No, you couldn't be, they never fight and they never get themselves *that* dirty"
>She's unwinding her limbs as she leads herself into an investigative trance
>her eyes haven't softened, but her face is more inquisitive than hostile
>"You could just be younger, but your ears look..."
>She springs to her feet and rushes to my side before I can react
>She's just as fast as big bastard and his little brother 
>I feel a hard pressure on my left ear-tip and jump back
>"Hey, what're you-"
>"AND YOUR HAIR!"
>She grabs the sides of my head and wretches it forward, so I'm staring at my feet
>Hello whiplash, my old friend
>"Lady,  I-" 
>"It's BROWN!"
>"No shit, now please-"
>My enthusiastic examiner jumps backward to face me
>Those twin oceans of hers are as wide as the real ones
>"OH MY GODS, YOUR EYES!"
>Thankfully, she doesn't try to examine those
>Hers are darting all over me, like she's trying to take in as much as they'll allow
>"You ARE human!"
>Somehow I've gone from thankful would-be victim to potential threat to test subject within the span of 5 minutes
>I'm beginning to feel fatigue set in, and I let it show in my voice this time
>"Now that we've established that, what are you?" 
>She cocks her head
>"You don't know?"
>"What? How would I know anything about you?"
>"Your kind helped put us here."

>This doesn't help with my confusion
>"I don't... we'll cover that later. I just need to know what to call you."
>She looks at me like I have four eyes again
>"I don't know, the lords usually just-" 
>Her eyes widen again and she spins to face the body of, what I assume to be, a lord
>"I KILLED HIM!" 
>I can see the tears beginning to form in her eyes again as her breathing becomes more erratic
>I snap my fingers to draw her attention away from the corpse
>"Hey, stay with me."
>She returns her attention to me
>"I can't stay here, if they find out I... if he..."
>She wraps her arms around herself again and starts to sway nervously, her fingers kneading the fabric of her rough tunic
>Fucking hell this is going nowhere
>I move to retrieve my snubnose
>sure enough, one empty case in the cylinder
>I swap it out and return the piece to its rightful place on my thigh
>Her gaze follows me as I move and she continues to sway with nervous energy
>"P-please don't leave. I don't know what to do..."
>I stop between her and the tunnel
>I can hear the desperation in her voice
>Two of her kind just tried to kill me, and one of them already got someone
>I turn to face her, those two blue eyes piercing my stony facade
>I can't
>I hope to the /k/ube I'm not making a mistake
>I point my thumb at the tunnel and sigh
>"Do you want to come with me?" 

>Getting her up and through tunnel was surprisingly easy
>squeezes that took me a minute to maneuver she slid right through 
>We eventually reach the end of the passage, and I call for Grant to pull us out
>She went into the tunnel first so I could drag my bag and assist as needed, so she was pulled out first
>Given that she very quickly rejoined me in the tunnel with a resounding "thud" and muffled "WHAT THE FUCK?" from above, I don't think Grant was expecting to see her
>"Grant, quick fucking around and pull the lady up!"
>I can hear him swearing above us
>My female companion has been staring upwards and smiling like a madman the entire time, despite just being dropped like a sack of rocks
>"Dink, how the fuck did you strike pussy in a diamond mine?" Grant calls down
>"Can it man, not in front of her." 
>A pair of hands reach down and pull her out
>In a few moments I've been pulled out as well and my gear is on my back
>Miss no-name has taken to staring at the working Dwarves with interest, and they're all too happy to return the favor
>Grant pulls me behind a machine drill, away from my new friend and the Dwarves
>"Dink, we sent you into a gob tunnel and you pull out a..." 
>"Firstly that's anything BUT a gob tunnel."
>Grant raises an eyebrow
>"What the fuck else makes tunnels?"
>"I don't know man, but that one is bad."
>Grant peeks around the corner of the drill
>"I don't think the missing rat had tits." 
>"He didn't."
>"Oh shit."
>"Yeah, seal that bitch."
>Grant starts to rub the back of his neck
>"Look man, the higher ups want a report before-"
>I grab him by the shoulders and lean in close, the sweat on my nose almost dripping onto his
>"I don't care if you have to explain it away as an accident, seal that fucking thing."
>I let him go
>He takes a step back and studies my face, like a poker player judging his opponents reactions
>"I'll do what I can."
>I take a deep breath and walk back to the now crowd of Dwarves that has surrounded my new friend
>Those big blue eyes of hers are flicking back and forth, taking in every detail of the murmuring Dwarves, a smile plastered on her face
>She is just too good for this world

>With some effort, I finally manage to drag her away from the gawking audience of Dwarves and toward the exit of the mine
>the rumbling and screeching of the mining machines passing us makes my nameless companion cover her ears more than once
>I'm going to have to get her some earpro
>as we reach the entrance of the mine, she stops
>She's covering her eyes and peeking through her fingers, several tears leaking out from underneath
>"Are you alright?" I ask, half turned toward her
>"I-I can't see. It's too bright."
>Ah fuck. Why didn't I think of that.
>She probably hasn't seen anything this bright in her life, let alone sunlight
>I peek outside the mine for a second, unwilling to stray too far from my blinded friend
>"You're back!"
>Moglin hobbles toward the mine entrance, clipboard under his arm
>"Yep, sure am. Listen, do you have any sunglasses?"
>He stops and looks at me quizzically
>"What the devil do you need sunglasses for?" 
>"Something important, do you have any or not?"
>The neatly dressed dwarf pats his pockets, then turns to an approaching work crew
>He plucks a pair of darkened glasses off the nose of one of the pickaxe weilding dwarves as they pass him, much to their irritation
>"Grab another from the quartermaster when you get back, you won't need them in there anyhow." He calls after the grumbling worker
>he gingerly cleans them off with his pocket square and hands them to me
>"Now what have-"
>"Thanks, Moglin. One sec."

>I duck back into the mine to find miss nameless rubbing her eyes safely inside the shadows of the mine
>"Put these on. They're company issue, so one size fits most." 
>She takes the spectacles from me and examines them closely for a minute, rotating them as she does
>She raises an eyebrow at me and opens her mouth to ask
>"Over your eyes."
>She nods and places them neatly onto her face, albeit slightly crooked
>She actually looks pretty... nope. Not admitting shit.
>It'll do.
>"Let's try this again."
>I gesture toward the mine exit
>She creeps forward, her hands guarding the edges of her glasses
>She slowly exits the mine, light inching it's way over her skin
>As it does, a smile once again creeps over her face
>"It's warm!"
>She looks excitedly at me and Moglin, who has planted himself on my left to observe this spectacle 
>"So you brought up an elf?"
>I turn to look at the dwarf as my bespeckled companion excitedly turns to watch the endless parade of miners and equipment pass by
>"She's an elf? Elves are tall and pale and..."
>"Dark ones exist too. Was she in that tunnel?"
>"Not just her. Nasty ones too. They got one of ours."
>I fish the rat's tags out of my pocket and hand them to Moglin
>"Maybe that 13/50 rule applies to elves too..." he mutters, frowning at the chain in his hand 
>"Anyways, she have a name?" 
>"Nope." 
>The dwarf sighs and slides his clipboard under his arm
>"Well if she's sticking with you, she'll need a name to go on forms. Figure something out and get back to me."
>I throw an incredulous look at the dwarf 
>"Are you kidding?" 
>"Well she isn't going to last long on her own. Besides, it'd be a good laugh seeing you walk around with her silhouetting you."
>The dwarf punches my elbow, which is about as high as he *can* punch, and heads off into camp again
>Silhouette, huh?
>My soon to be named companion looks back at me and waves
>This is going to be interesting

>"Come on Sil, we have shit to do!"
>The company had seen fit to give Silhouette, or Sil, her own private barrack
>Why? Moglin said it was for legal reasons. 
>The last decently attractive female who slept in a house with a group of miner dwarves apparently committed suicide by poison apple
>This was just a way for the company to cover their ass so it didn't happen again
>Anyways, her barrack was more of a 5x5 shack, but Sil was just ecstatic to have a place of her own
>"Okay, ready!"
>My ashen partner stumbled through her doorway into the afternoon sun, a pair of slightly-too-large tigerstripe camo pants and a white tank top replacing her threadbare tunic
>"Better than your old stuff?"
>She pulls an OD baseball cap over her head and pushes her sunglasses back onto her nose
>"Much, but why is it all green? There isn't any green underground."
>I shrug
>"I like green, and the goblins don't care what you're wearing if you're in their tunnels." 
>"Fair point." 
>"It'll do until we can get you your own stuff. Speaking of..."
>I motion for her to follow and start making my way to the quartermaster
>Sil runs to catch up and matches my pace on my left, her head on a swivel as she takes in her new surroundings
>I can catch the slightest glimpse of her eyes lighting up each time they find something new
>Fucking hell Dink, keep it professional 

>The quartermaster is set up in a massive aircraft-hanger-looking sheet metal building
>I abruptly stop by the entrance and grab Sil's arm
>"Before we go in, listen to me."
>Sil nods
>"Do not, under any circumstances, mention the hat."
>She raises an eyebrow
>"Just... don't."
>I open the door and step inside
>massive drills, crane arms, and treads litter the open floor
>helmets, picks, and every kind of mining equipment you can think of lining the racks by the walls
>"Yonder! Where you at?" my yell echoes through the building
>A small, grease covered hand shoots out from one of the tread assemblies in the center of the floor
>A voice not at all unlike a mid-pubescant Scottish boy screams back "The fahk eyu want?" 
>A grease stained, conical red hat drops onto the floor in front of us from a gap in the machinery
>A feisty looking, 3 foot nothing gnome with a scraggly orange beard squeezes his way through after it
>I nod toward Sil, who is staring awestruck at the tiny stranger in front of us
>"Need to get the lady some arms."
>The gnome places his hat onto his head and brushes has hands on his overalls
>He gives Sil an elevator glance
>Her gaze has settled on his hat
>"We takin' damn near anyone now, aye?" 
>"Just let us into the armory, Yonder."
>I just need to get Sil away from him as fast as possible 
>"Fien, it's over yonder. Here's the key, see me for the papers when you're ready."
>The gnome drops a key into my hand
>"How many is she cleared for?" 
>"One of each, aye imagine. It's rat standard." 
>I nod and pull Sil away before she can say anything
>"But why-"
>"Don't."

>After an ungodly amount of time spent in the armory comparing weapons, Sil came to settle on an M3A1 Grease gun and a standard 1911
>She proudly approaches the quartermaster's desk, a weapon in each hand
>I, however, am trailing behind her with everything else 
>"Ya feind everything?"
>Yonder's head barely pokes over the desk, even from his phone-book laden stool
>"Yep!" Sil beamed as she set her new gear on the gnome's workstation 
>I set the rest in a pile beside her weapons, a stray magazine skittering to the floor on Yonder's side of the table
>"We'll try them on the range tomorrow and see you again if they don't work out." 
>Yonder nodds as he passes Sil a clipboard
>"Fill these oot, one for each piece."
>She energetically swipes the board and sets about her task with enthusiasm
>"They get you any help yet, Yonder?"
>"Noe, tha cheap bastards keep promising though."
>The gnome removes his hat to wipe sweat from his brow and promptly replaces it
>"I don't meind it, gives me somethin' to do."
>Sil abruptly offers the clipboard back to Yonder
>"Here you go!"
>He glances over the papers and nods
>"Be careful, ya fahkin lunatics."
>"Don't work too hard."
>We both scoop up the parts of her new kit and turn for the door
>Not even halfway to the door, Sil stops
>"Oh, uh Yonder?"
>She turns around
>FUCK
>"Sil please..."
>I shoot a pleading look at her, but she's not paying attention to me
>The gnome looks up from his papers
>"Aye?"
>"Sil I don't-"
>The slightest hint of a grin catches the corner of her mouth
>She knows exactly what she's doing
>"Why do you wear that hat?"

>"There you go, don't get your weapon caught."
>I'm leaning over a plexiglass covered pit in the dirt, doing my best to look through the grime and glare
>One of the gripes about tunnel rat duty in the old days was that training never really prepared you for it
>we here at the company ran into the same issue, except our entire lack of formal training made our losses 20 times worse
>After a particularly bad month for rat casualties, a bunch of the old timers created "the pit"
>It's just a shallow trench dug into a clearing outside camp with a plexiglass top, but it allows newbies a chance to run through things with someone watching
>"Why is it always so hot in here?" 
>Sil is currently discovering why it also holds the nickname, "the oven"
>"Plexiglass doesn't breathe well, but you're almost through!"
>My sentence is suppressed by a barely muffled burst of fire from Sil's m3a1
>I watch as she slides through the last turn of the course after lighting up the final target
>"Out!" she yells, springing to her feet at the edge of the dusty plexiglass sheet
>Her tigerstripe pants and tank top are dusty as all get out and her ballcap has become crooked
>I refuse to acknowledge how cute she looks
>Goddamnit,  stop thinking 
>"Nice, let's check those targets."
>I walk to a spot in the plexiglass cover and pull one of the target boards from its insert
>A cluster of .45 caliber holes punctuate the mid section of the crudely drawn goblin target
>"Very nice, very nice!" I remark, shooting an approving glance at Sil
>Sil pats her slung grease gun proudly, and I swear I can see the sparkle from her deep blue eyes even behind her sunglasses
>"Any issues with it? If there are we can run and talk to-" 

>"NOPE!" Sil cuts me off
>"Absolutely NO issues and NO reason to go see Yonder."
>I shrug and check the other targets as she starts chugging from her canteen
>"Definitely looks like you're good on all of these too. I'd say you're fit for duty."
>Sil grins from behind her canteen
>"Good timing, Moglin's got something for you both."
>An OD-green clad figure steps off the dirt trail and into the clearing
>"Hello, Grant!"
>Sil waves enthusiastically toward him, a smile plastered on her face
>"Hello, Sil!" Grant returns the enthusiastic greeting and gives me a nod
>"He give you any deets?" I ask as I replace the pit's target sheets
>"Negative boss man, but Mog's waiting for you up at the trail head."
>"Thanks dude, you getting some pit time in?" 
>Grant strides over to the pit entry and drops his legs in, sitting on the edge
>"Yeah, one of these days I'll join the rat crew. Maybe they'll give me a raise when I do."
>I wave Sil over to the dirt trail and give one of those chuckle-exhales
>"Good luck with the raise part man, I'm still waiting on mine." 

>A quick trip up the trail brings Sil and I back to the edge of the chaotic bustle of the camp
>"Ah good, there you two are. They hit another tunnel in one of the old shafts."
>The smartly dressed  dwarf was patiently waiting for us at the trail head, if you can call clipboard tapping patient
>"What's the matter Moglin, don't want to visit the pit?" I call, a faux tinge of disappointment in my voice
>"I didn't want to interrupt anything, new rats have a tendency to stir up trouble." 
>The dwarf somehow manages to peer down at the comparatively towering elf, whose normally ashen face has turned a light shade of pink
>"I apologized, okay!" Sil lowers her gaze, hiding behind her cap's bill as she cradles her weapon
>The dwarf cracks a smile "I'm not mad, but I can't say the same about the response team. No one likes responding to warehouse calls."
>I stare into space for a moment, doing my best to block out the details of the trip to the quartermaster
>"Anyway, they've found a new tunnel in one of the old shafts. Should be pretty routine."
>I focus back on Moglin, who is pointing to a circle on his clipboard mounted map
>Sil and I both lean in to study the laminated page
>"A gob managed to pop one of the work crewmen when the found it, little bugger went right back down in there afterward." 

>"So this one is guaranteed hot." 
>"So it seems. We'll have a team guarding the entrance while you clear it for demolition. It's already been okayed by the suits." 
>I stand back up and rub the back of my neck
>Fan-fucking-tastic
>"We'll grab our gear and head down." 
>"Good. I'll be about if you need, but head down soon." 
>The dwarf turns and bee-lines back toward the center of camp, disappearing into the masses of moving work crews and security personnel 
>Sil is shifting her weight between her feet beside me, fiddling with the dust cover on her weapon and staring into the dirt in front of her
>"Hey, you good?"
>I put my hand on her arm as she looks up at me
>"Yeah, uhm... Yeah." she says, continuing to fumble with her weapon
>Nerves.
>"It'll be fine. Just get in, plant some charges, and head back out. Easy peasy." I say, forcing a smile
>I hope she can't tell how fucking terrified I am
>Everyone is scared of this job, anyone who says otherwise either hasn't done it or lies professionally
>Her demeanor doesn't change, but she at least smiles a little
>"You're scared too."
>Goddamnit
>"Yeah. Let's get this done."