Somnambulance [Retconned]

[Toaster]

Five down, Olivia thought to herself as she crouched back into the shadows to catch her breath. Seven to go.

The quiet sounds of shuffling feet echoed around the warehouse's cavernous interior. Olivia kicked herself for discarding her mag rifle earlier, leaving her not only outnumbered but also thoroughly outgunned. Carefully, she patted herself down, making sure that what weaponry she did still have on her was where it belonged. Her fingers ran over her holstered knife and pistol and closed around a small cylinder attached to her belt. A lone stun grenade.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself before carrying on towards her objective. A small motion in the shadows to her left caught her attention. She ducked behind a shelf with its lowest rung stacked with dusty crates, eyes locked on the source of movement. Two men stepped out of the darkness into the dim light, warily sweeping raised rifles to and fro as they scanned the warehouse for signs of her intrusion. They were clever enough to move back to back, leaving no blind spots for her to attack from. They were, however, also too inexperienced to keep their eyes on the floor.

Olivia patiently waited for them to approach her cover, then swung out from behind it, staying low, swinging her legs at the first man. The kick swept his legs out from under him and he sprawled to the steel floor face first, a splatter of blood erupting from a broken nose. Olivia jumped to her feet as the second man spun around in alarm, raising his rifle, mere feet between its muzzle and her chest. The mercenary dashed forward, closing the distance and slapping the weapon's barrel away as her opponent pulled the trigger. A deafening blast resounded through the storehouse as a bullet zipped through the air, missing Olivia's torso by inches.

With all the force she could muster, she kicked her knee upwards, ramming it into the man's groin. Stunned, he dropped the gun and buckled over like a marionette cut loose from its strings. Olivia unholstered her sidearm and pressed its barrel into the collapsing man's back, firing twice, then turned around to face the smuggler with the shattered nose. He had rolled onto his back and was clutching his face, blood streaming out from between his fingers. He stared at her, eyes wide with fear and, for just a split moment, Olivia hesitated.

A gunshot rang out and a stab of pain shot through Olivia's left leg as a round grazed her thigh.

"Shit," she growled and ducked down, searching for the shot's origin. The man on the floor grabbed the opportunity and clambered to his feet, reaching for his dropped rifle. Gripping it, he spun towards her and froze as a red stain blossomed from his chest. He collapsed again to the floor. Olivia lowered her pistol, glancing around the warehouse. She made out the glint of a rifle's barrel in the shadows in front of her just in time to dash to the side, a bullet tearing through the space she had occupied an instant earlier. A second round pinged off the steel shelves around her, ricocheting into the darkness.

Running, Olivia blindly let loose a burst of pistol fire in the shooter's general direction. She heard a man curse, followed by heavy footfalls as her attacker repositioned. In the faint light coming through the rooftop windows, Olivia saw his shape bound towards the pile of supplies in the warehouse's center. The figure took cover behind crates of food and medicine, realizing that these were what she was after - and that she would avoid damaging them.

Sadly, he was right.

Olivia turned into a shelf aisle leading towards the heap of supplies and the smuggler hiding within. She fired her pistol, aiming above the bags and crates, forcing her opponent to keep his head down as she approached. Her free hand reached for her belt, detaching the small metal cylinder from its link. She squeezed tightly, arming the grenade, then threw it forwards. It sailed through the air, passing over the crates, and clattered to the deck behind them. Olivia squeezed her eyes shut and kept running.

A blinding flash erupted from within the cache, followed immediately by a deafening blast. Her ears ringing, Olivia opened her eyes again, and leapt onto the nearest trunk. Amidst the stockpile, the lone shooter crouched on his knees, clutching his head in a stunned daze. Seeing her crest his cover, his eyes shot at her, tears streaming down his face. With a confused yell, he stumbled to his feet. Olivia jumped at him, planting her feet in his chest and sending him flying into a pile of bags. Two rounds from her pistol followed him, spraying the sacks with blood.

Olivia's shoulders slumped as she watched the lifeless body sink into the pile. She was out of breath and a crimson stain spread from the throbbing wound in her leg. She slouched against a stack of crates, catching her breath, and looked around. The supply cache was far larger than she had at first estimated. There were tons of food, water, and pharmaceuticals stored around her, enough to feed hundreds of Sprague's people for weeks. The smugglers would make a fortune selling it all on the black market. Or, they would have, had she not shown up to interfere.

A smile parted the mercenary's lips. This was worth doing. Sprague's population needed every pound of goods it could get its hands on. These men she was killing were extorting innocent people. They deserved their fate.

Thwump.

A dull sound, like a rubber ball being launched out of a steel pipe, tore Olivia out of her contemplation.

Oh, she thought as she watched a grenade arc over the piles and stacks around her.

Shit.

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Olivia Sable