"The Mule is secured! Initiating launch sequence! Deep Rock Galactic thanks you for your good work! Drop Pod will leave with or without you!" Mission Control intoned into the Dwarves commlinks, barely audible amid the roar of their guns echoing off the cavern's walls and the screeching hordes of native Glyphid insectoids. The four of them were forced into a semi-circle, backs against the Drop Pod, unloading upon the teeming tide that flowed out from every nook and cranny of this forsaken crag, Glyphids of all sizes surging with gnashing, slavering jaws and razor sharp taloned forelegs.

The gangplank of the Drop Pod descended as it reeled in the Dwarves hard won bounty of precious minerals extracted by pickaxe from the walls of this labyrinthine cavern. "Go! Go! Go!" the Driller, who had arrived first, ushered his fellows on to hurry into the Pod while the Scout, ever the impatient opportunist, saved himself the trouble of walking, hurtling himself into the safety of the Pod bay with his trusty grappling hook. The Gunner just smiled, utterly in his element, letting his monstrous Dwarf-portable cannon thunder scores of lead into the throngs of Glyphids as his ammunition counter rapidly depleted, seeming almost sad that it was time to stop killing bugs and go home while the Engineer clambered into the pod, confident in his auto-turret defenses.

When all four Dwarves were inside, the hatch slid shut and sealed tight, shutting the Dwarves away from the raging swarm of insects. The four of them strapped in, the compartment barely big enough to house the miners, and let out a collective sigh. They were looking forward to getting wasted at the company bar on the Space Rig, in orbit high above the blasted wasteland of the planet Hoxxes, as the Pod's reactor and automatic systems made ready to extract them from the depths of the alien underworld they'd been mining. Just as they relaxed as much as possible while covered in sweat and grime in the confines of their harnessed seats, instead of the expected jerk of the Pod lurching as its engines engaged, an odd grinding noise reverberated through the cramped space. The pod shuddered violently, rattling the Dwarves to their very beards. "That's not good," The Engineer said flatly. "Told ya I had a bad feeling about this one," said the Scout. Tense moments passed before Mission Control cut in again, "Miners… I've got some bad news. The Pod is completely shot. We'll be able to extract the Mule and its payload with secondaries, but as for you…" The faintest hint of genuine apology crept into the voice of the Mission Control operator, "The Company expresses its most sincere apologies and regrets, but you're stranded. Mitigating factors. Our hands are tied. Deep Rock Galactic will record your sacrifice. Sorry boys." The link went dead.

The Dwarves looked at one another with apprehension. They were thousands of meters underground, surrounded by endless multitudes of insectoid abominations, low on ammo, with only each other to depend on for survival. "Well, there's no use crying over spilt beer, is there?" the Gunner snorted, chomping on his cigar. "I say we make a stand here and fight our way out of this hole, eh lads?" "Rock and Stone!" the Dwarves shouted in unison. There was no more need for words. The Dwarves were a team. They