[h2]Banha Akiyama[/h2]
[h3]Anhur[/h3]

[hr]

"Who's shooting us?!" The Yakuza were situated in a primitive apartment building, a rundown brick house in the outskirts of the city. A secret base of operations in the middle of Anhur. Well, not so secret anymore. Rounds pelted the wall behind them, glass shattering, kinetic shields flashed blue as spikes skimmed them, some breaking down completely. They were huddled against any cover they could find, desecrated walls, mouldy couches, anything to stop the barrage.

Banha clutched his C-14 tight, gasping and rasping for air. They were caught with their pants down, this was supposed to be one of the safest places in the Nebula. Anhur was their capital and they owned this world. Didn't stop some damn Terran spec-ops to infiltrate the planet. 'These fuckers have been a pain in the arse, this stops now.' The Batarian crawled forward on the ground, careful to avoid the places under the heaviest amount of fire. He grimaced as another Yakuza member cried out in pain. Spikes tear through flesh and bone with ease, brutal weapons.

The Akiyama propped himself against an upturned metal table, next to his krantt. Varhak, crazed in his bloodlust, squeezed the trigger of his stolen LMG into the fray. He bellowed deeply, laughing like a madkrogan. Unfortunately, he was also a very [i]blind[/i] madkrogan. "Get down you fool!" Banha pulled the 8 foot krogan down, a grenade flying over their heads, exploding when it hit the ground. 

"It's like Omega all over again, eh Ban?" The Akiyama heir grunted in response, ducking once more as a spike burst through the metal table, next to his head. He risked a peek outside. The glass front of the bottom apartment floor was shattered, four black vehicles parked outside. The Terran spies were risking a lot by shooting up a Yakuza base-of-operations on the middle of the day. They were armed with a mixture of C-14's and M8's, armoured in sleek Terminus armour.

As Banha thought up of plans and strategies to get the fuck out of there, an ethereal faint mist started to wrap around the building, a sickly green in colour. But, to the ignorant main character of our story, that doesn't really matter. He nudged the krogan next to him. "Var, where's Sivius and Hidan?"

The Krogan pointed to the far corner, a couch potted with holes smoked. He called out and a moment later, a Turian and a Human ran out of cover, the latter laughing his head off. They dived for the cover next to them, the former clutching a new Vanquisher shotgun, barrel smoking and a mechanical whine escaping the gun. Sivius nodded to them, one hand saluting while the other muffled Hidan's laughing.

"Are we the only ones left?" The former asked, mandibles spreading in worry. Varhak nodded grimly, bloodlust fading. Sivius's face was set in determination, "How do we get rid of these bastards?"

[hr]
[b]Moments Later...[/b]

"3....." Banha clutched the rifle tightly, finger lightly squeezing the metal trigger. "2....." Varhak gripped on the grenade, ready to prime it in a moment's notice. "1....." Hidan grinned, activating his Omni-Shinken. "NOW!"

Their timing was perfect, they popped out of cover and started to fire everything they had at the enemy, right when they were reloading. Imagine there surprise when four of the cars were blown up in a fiery explosion. They looked at each other with a pointed look, a "did you do that?" look plastered on their face. A few seconds later, Yakuza started pouring into the house. They crashed into the building in a old, stolen Mako tank, painted black and red in their gang's colours.

One lieutenant, a Salarian with a headband with the kanji for "81" on it, came up to them. "Are you all right sirs?" He asked in his race's signature fast speech. Banha looked at him with a sarcastic look and was about to respond with a smarmy comment but then.....

[h1][b]BOOM![/b][/h1]

[hr]
[b]Time Square, New York, Arcadia-1[/b]

They landed in a loud, deafening crash, everyone knocked unconscious during the "Dragging" process. Groans erupted like an old man choir group, Yakuza picking themselves up from the ground. A very loud, and possibly high, Human stated what everyone was thinking "Where the fuck are we?"

Banha struggled to get up, using his C-14 to prop himself up. Trying to look as cool as he could in front of his troops, he grabbed a cigarette and lit it up with his omni-tool. He swung his C-14 over his shoulder, sticking it on his mag clamp. He drew his Saber before addressing the group before him.

"Yakuza! What do we do best in these types of situations?" He bellowed loudly over the mumbling crowd.

"Um, snort Red Sand?" The offending Human, the one from earlier, was nudged by his Elcor friend. By nudge, meaning that he was flung into the building next to him. Banha rolled his eyes before choosing another person, someone less high than the last.

"Adapt, sir!" The excitable Asari offered, swinging her pistol around. The Batarian calmed her down with a motion of his hand before nodding grimly. "Yes, that's right! We have no idea where the fuck we are" a small yell of 'I called it' escaped from the building next to them "but we will adapt! Regroup, find your gear, and we'll find refuge in this damn, ancestor-forsaken hellhole!" The Yakuza all roared before going to work, a team of people trying to push the overturned Mako upright. 

Banha smiled. 'Now, what can go wrong?"