Yuma System
Aboard the 'Red Eye', preparing to jump to planet Victor
2212, March 6th, 1020h
"I'd never consider myself to be a pirate," Vlocke mused, cockily twirling his B3 Wingman in his fingers. "But a marauder? Sure. Has a nice ring to it." He holstered his Wingman and picked up a set of EVA-8 shotgun drum mags from the arms bin and began to slide in its 12-gauge rounds. "But two meals a day, bottom of the barrel equipment, and less ammo than a priapist's left nut, we are just not equipped to do shit against the IMC anymore." He paused, tucking the drum into a pouch. "Most of the grunts on the ground have fired a gun, give or take… once. Most of our pilots have used a pirated Hammond's maybe just as much. And as Bish, just said on the comms, the only tosser who knew how to plan these types of raids just croaked this morning." He grabbed another drum and loaded in more rounds. "I mean, fuck, what about the titan maintenance? Ya think Sarah's gonna manage on her own?"
"Vlocke, shut up," Tyrena silenced him, adjusting her Kevlar stomach plate. She put her boot up against the bench and pulled out her knife. The blade still had its sharp glean from the last mission it and she slipped it back in. "Shit's bad, don' need to tell everybody the obvious." She began to pull her chestnut hair into a bun.
"Look," Vlocke continued dryly, "I've a better chance of greasing myself up and going through the slip dive, than we do against the whole IMC."
"We're not going up against the whole IMC, Vlocke," Cut in Briggs. "This is a remote refueling station far from their Forward Strike Bases. If we're lucky, we'll meet little resistance and get refueled before the First Response Teams arrive." Briggs opened up a weapons locker to retrieve his carbine as well as a couple magazines.
"Is that the mission then?" Vlocke asked.
"That's right," Briggs confirmed, slapping the side of his helmet to remove the static from his in-helmet heads-up display. The luminescent display flickered to life. "We're to deploy from the Crows within the hour and deactivate three auto-turret emplacements on the ground in sector G. Meanwhile, the civie fleet is coming in right behind us and we have to keep the guns offline and secure until they're done. What's left of our fighter group will provide air support where crucial. I repeat: crucial. We don't have very many Hornets left after the last two engagements, so no calls unless necessary."
"What can we expect in way of Titan support?" Tyrena broke in, picking up a well-worn Kraber-AP she'd picked up two missions back. She ripped out the magazine to inspect it.
"Most of our Titans are still in the repair bay, but Bish estimates we have some 32 still functional chassis remaining on stand-by. Sarah expects that six more should become available during the mission."
"What's the terrain like in sector G?" a Grunt spoke from the back of weapons room. Briggs saw that the locker room was quickly becoming a briefing room.
"Captain Dunham says it's Old Wealth houses and unstable ground. Seeing as how he's ex-IMC, he knows the area best."
"What's our support going to be comprised of?" Vlocke asked.
"We'll have five squads of Grunts deployed under McCord, Little, Childs, Schumacher, and Stewart. Childs and Stewart are at half strength." A Grunt groaned.
"Who isn't these days?" Vlocke muttered under his breath and several Grunts groaned in agreement.
"Stow it, Vlocke!" Briggs responded, cleared irked. "We're cutting it close as is. We don't need any more crap on top of it."
"Sorry, Sir." Vlocke tucked in another mag into a pouch.
"Alright, shit has been real quite-seriously-fucked the last couple of weeks, but that's all going to change," Briggs barked, loading bullets into his magazines and tucking them away. He slapped one into his rifle before ending his impromptu briefing. "Pilots, prepare for drop."
"Decoupling now, standby for departure," the pilot spoke over the intercom.
"Hey Bish, you coming with us?" Vlocke shouted to the second in command and expert hacker over the noise of the engines.
"Yeah, this raid is critical to our survival. I can get a better fix on each squad's progress from low orbit," he shouted back looking up from his laptop. Behind him in the cockpit, Sarah was standing with the drop ship pilot, the Red Eye's nose art emblazoned on her back. The intercom buzzed again; "Jumping in three, two, one… mark!"
"Oh, this always makes me sick," Vlocke complained.
"Good thing your helmet's open." Briggs shoved Vlocke's shoulder. The cabin of the Crow quickly became absorbed in bright, luminescent light as the short range FTL drives powered up for matter displacement. In less than a second, the Crow was already in the planet's lower atmosphere.
Not missing a beat, Bish reminded the team what was at stake. "The Civilian Fleet is right behind us, most of the ships are running on fumes right now."
"We're out of options," Sarah added, "it's now or never." She walked toward the ramp controls by the back of the cabin and pulled down the primary ramp release. Hot air billowed into the cabin, ruffling her spiked hair while simultaneously deafening the Crow. She turned back to the squad of Pilots in front of her. "Either way we need this fuel or none of us are going to make it. The fleet's counting on you! Go, go, go!" The Pilots ran and leaped off the ramp. In front of the jump zone, several Crows were deploying Grunts on the ground via ziplines. The stabilizers kicked in and each Pilot landed deftly upon the asphalt. As Briggs stood up from the landing, Captain Dunham, in his typical fashion, swaggered onto the scene in his Atlas titan relaying orders to the Grunts.
"McCord, take your squad up this road! The rest of you move through this building behind me and secure the area!" Dunham closed the hatch from within his Atlas and lumbered toward the large bombed-out cement building behind him.
"You heard him," Briggs addressed Tyrena. "Get your rifle atop that building and give us overwatch. Vlocke. Vlocke! Quit your bellyaching and move up with McCord on Hardpoint Bravo!"
"Roger that." Vlocke shook his head while he furiously rubbed dust from his eyes. "Damn, shit in my eyes." Tyrena chuckled at the sight as she ran for the building.
"You'll catch a bullet if you don't move, Pilot!" Briggs reprimanded him.
"Copy!" Vlocke swore under his breath.
Tyrena pulled herself up the edge of the roof and scanned the complex. She could see several dilapidated houses. As she scanned towards the north, to where Hardpoint Alpha was on her HUD, She could see the white and grey colors of an IMC Goblin dropship. "Captain Dunham, IMC forces dropping in from the north."
"Got it. What's their strength?"
"Standard QRF deployment, they've got pilots dropping in."
"I knew this wouldn't be easy," Dunham breathed.
Briggs' comm crackled with Bish's voice: "Ok boss, take as many hardpoints as you can, patch me into them, and I'll take care of the rest." Bish's video feed disappeared from the top right of his HUD.
"You heard him, boys!" Briggs smacked the shoulder of the Grunt in front of him. "We need to take these turrets offline - yesterday!" The Grunts replied affirmatively and the squad continued through a broken pipe section along the cliff face. The Grunts moved quickly through the pipes, keeping their weapons trained at every possible opening. The grunts advanced into the residential building as they neared the end of broken pipe.
"We'll clear this building and regroup with you at the objective!" the squad leader said to Briggs.
"No prey, no pay!" said Briggs, tapping the M-Cor logo atop his helmet enthusiastically.
"You heard the Pilot, let's clear this sector of IMC!"
"Hoo-ah!" the squad thundered.
Briggs turned and made his way through a ditch and into another section of fragmented pipe. The ground itself looked recently fractured, as if the earth itself was going to collapse. The earth-made trench led out into an open field with a clear view of the building where Hardpoint Alpha was housed. Briggs crouched under a rock shelf and slowly edged his head out to peek around the corner. The AA gun's barrels were working in a rhythmic fashion firing inter-atmospheric shells at the refueling militia fleet.
Footfalls echoed right above him and his entire body clenched and froze. He could overhear a woman's voice say, "… unit Six en route." He crouched low and waited for the Pilot to pass. Briggs moved back along the rock and peered back to where the Grunts should be. A moment or two later, gun fire erupted and flashes emanated from the building. They were short bursts, which told him it was an automatic weapon. And judging by its high pitch it was no doubt an R-97. Briggs grimaced - there was no return fire. As per usual, Grunts were useless and no doubt he would have to take the point on his own.
The Pilot jabbed a stim into his thigh, and with a burst of adrenaline and speed, Briggs made a mad dash between cover and the Hardpoint. In a matter of seconds, he boosted himself into the second story window and had already scanned the entire room. An IMC Grunt was at the command console. Before his mouth could open, Briggs had already released two rounds of his 101c straight into the Grunt's abdomen with a final sighted shot into his skull. Instinctually, he moved forward to secure the gun console.
Gunfire erupted, tearing up the floor next to him and flinging scraps of floorboard everywhere. Briggs leapt from the floor to the wall and onto the banister above in a single fluid movement. A quick kick knocked one Grunt to the floor, then using the butt of his carbine, he smashed another one in the chest plate. The force sent their weapons flying and Briggs couldn't help noticing how clean their recently manufactured rifles were. Sending a few bullets casually their way to finish the job, Briggs discarded his own battered piece and picked up the newly-made hardware. Even through his helmet he could practically smell the assembly line.
I could use an upgrade. The seasoned pirate couldn't resist trailing his fingers along the stock and grip of his new prize.
Bish cut into his reverie. "You can admire the nice, shiny gun later, Briggs. How about patching me in first? These Hardpoints aren't going to capture themselves."
Briggs gave a reluctant sigh and holstered his new prize. "Copy that, Bish." He leapt over the banister back onto the floor by the console. The proximity broadband interceptor chip located on Briggs' suit was already reconfiguring the automatic turret systems before he hit the ground. What felt like a leisurely twenty seconds to Bish, was a goddamn long time to Briggs. The Pilot darted his focus toward the several possible entry points an enemy pilot might appear from, becoming increasingly nervous as the short term stims wore off.
"Got it, Hardpoint secured. Briggs, move onto 'B'."
"What's happening at 'B'?" Briggs asked into his comms.
Vlocke howled as he detonated his satchel charges, billowing dust and debris out of the windows. "How do you like my Frontier hospitality?" Vlocke cackled. An IMC Grunt stumbled out of the dust, dazed from the blast. Vlocke's Eva-8, lovingly named 'Eve', was more than happy to remove his head with a satisfying ka-thunk. Vlocke gave out another excited howl. A squad of IMC Grunts burst in through a ground floor window, immediately putting rounds in Vlocke's direction. "Not the face, not the face!" as he quickly tucked behind a pillar.
"Enemy pilot engaged, we need backup!" a Grunt yelled into his comms. A moment later a Titan's 40mm cannon shells tore through the sidewall.
"Fuck your arsehole!" Vlocke shouted. "Tyrena, where's that prick shooting from?"
"Say please." She purred.
"Seriously?" He spat.
"Mhmm." she chuckled warmly.
"Gah, fuck you, too." Vlocke dove from his cover and let Eve rip out 12 gauge slugs. He bounced off the floor and grappled onto a wall away from the shells. Another 40 mil ripped through just inches in front of him. "It's getting a little airy in here!" he screamed. An IMC grunt aimed from around the wall but Eve discouraged him by shredding off a portion of concrete near his arm. "Tyrena!?" Vlocke cried out desperately. An answer came in the form of a whistling anti-Titan missile.
"You're my Valkyrie, girl!"
"If I was a Valkyrie, you'd be dead," Tyrena said, twisting another rocket pod into her Archer before slinging it onto her back.
"What? You'd be shooting at me?" Vlocke said, confused.
"I…" She rolled her eyes. I don't know why I even bother. "Do you even know what a Valkyrie is Vlocke?"
"It's got tits and wings, Ty."
That's not wrong. "Yeah, but she kills mortals."
"Sexy, ain't it?"
"Redneck."
"Oh, and she's got a nice arse in that Pilot suit."
That fucker! "IT'S NOT – MY FAULT – MY SUIT – IS – TIGHT!" Tyrena used each consecutive shot to emphasize her words. She pulled back the bolt of her rifle, ejecting the last round of the magazine and sent it flying away.
"Yeah, whatever." Vlocke replied dismissively as he jumped over a curved banister behind the Hardpoint's console. The loud cracks of the AA gun echoed overhead. Occasionally, an AA shell would fall through the broken skylight and land by the console.
"Hey, Vlocke, I'm getting interference in that area," Bish said over comms.
"Uh, that means a Pilot's close, right?"
"Yeah man, the interceptor chips cancel each other out."
Vlocke surveyed the hardpoint. There were friendly grunts coming down the stairwell behind his position. Suddenly, an audible, metallic clang echoed off the floor near him. He realized that it could be an Arc grenade, but before he could react it went off. An electromagnetic pulse interfered with his helmet HUD, trashing the display and sending the room in a momentary white light.
The short range blast of the Arc grenade knocked him to the ground. Bloody hell, that hurts. As the HUD cleared, a shimmer descended from the ceiling. Suddenly, several, quick shots burst forth, uncloaking an IMC Pilot as Grunts tumbled down the stairs lifelessly. The Pilot holstered his Smart Pistol and approached the console. Vlocke puffed his cheeks, desperately trying not to cough, breathe, or even fart.
Many men in the front lines upon seeing their foe within arm's reach, either freeze or attempt to attack carelessly. The Militia, being the hodge-podge of homesteaders, criminals, and freedom fighters that it is has a wild gap between its veterans. Vlocke had seen homesteaders fire whole magazines and still miss their targets, criminals more interested in putting rounds into a Titan wildly than running away. What they misunderstood about combat was that they were not Pilots. Pilots are better physically adapted to pain and stress, while also seeing the battlefield in a 3D perspective. They were by far, the best of the best that each side had to offer, it also meant rampant stim addiction and unhinged personality disorders. This meant that most Pilots were crazier than most.
Vlocke did not have a problem with this.
Aw right, don't go mucking it up now. Wait for it. If he wasn't careful, the Pilot would tag him. He just needed to get to him under three seconds before the Smart Pistol locked on. At the right moment, he fired his stabilizers off the ground as a means of closing the gap on the enemy pilot.
The pilot turned to face Vlocke as he jetted toward him. The man raised his Smart Pistol to aim at Vlocke, but was tackled in the process. The two Pilots rolled into a mahogany book shelf, spilling some old holo-records and antiques. The IMC Pilot struggled with Vlocke's grip before gaining the upperhand. The man threw a punch into his nose and Vlocke retaliated by spittting into the Pilot's face. His foe shook his head in disgust and promptly tried to punch Vlocke's nose again.
"Not the face!" Vlocke shouted for the second time today. He head butted the IMC Pilot. The helmet caught the Pilot's neck guard, cutting his lip but not releasing his grip. Taking another chance, Vlocke grabbed the pilot's chestplate and pulled him back for another head butt. This caught the Pilot mostly in the face, causing him to bite his tongue. Vlocke believed he had just got the upper hand. The Pilot boosted up and quickly grappled the wall, giving Vlocke just moments to dodge the incoming stabilizer-assisted kick. Vlocke rolled up into a crouch just feet away from the Pilot and console. This better fucking work! Vlocke said to himself as the IMC Pilot pulled out his sidearm. A loud crackle and whir thundered over head and Vlocke rolled backward out of the ruined building and into the protective field as his Titan landed. He quickly got up and gave his opponent the fingers before leaping into his Titan's awaiting cockpit.
"Get ready for payback fuckah!" By the time the hatch had sealed and Vlocke took aim with his chaingun, the pilot had vanished.
An Arc grenade fizzing his screens said otherwise. A moment later, the proximity alarms sounded notifying Vlocke that a pilot had boarded the top of the Titan. Vlocke grunted and attempted to shake the Pilot off to no avail.
"Warning, an enemy Titan is targeting you." The onboard computer alerted Vlocke.
"I can see that!" Vlocke grunted.
"I see him," Tyrena said into her comms, "Hold still Vlocke."
"Kind of in the middle of something." His Atlas scooted back quickly trying to avoid the enemy Atlas' barrage of missiles. The IMC Pilot atop his Titan ripped off the latch covering the core manifold. Tyrena's ballistic CPU built into her scope adjusted for micro vibrations for as she tried to adjust her crosshairs over the Pilot. She squeezed the trigger and the rifle thundered delivering a round that ricocheted off of Vlocke's Titan and grazing the Pilot's stomach. The IMC Pilot put a hand onto his stomach clutching the wound. Vlocke's Titan smashed into a building and the Pilot finally fell off.
"Thanks Ty." Came Vlocke's grateful reply.
"Mhm." She replied slid back the bolt to release the spent round. The bolt and the shell jammed inside of the receiver. She tried the bolt again but it was wedged tight. Guess that's what happens when you push your luck too far. It was inevitable she knew, but she had hoped it wouldn't happen on this mission. Though that's what she had said on the last mission. "My rifle's jammed, it'll take too long to field strip it. Anyone got a lead on a replacement?" She hoped that she could find another.
"Negative." Briggs voice replied, "Shame though, that was a sexy piece."
"She was." Tyrena said remorsefully and pulled out the half used mag and dropped the rifle. She unholstered her sidearm, a P2011 and pulled back the slide. Tyrena grabbed the ledge of the building, cloaking as she went, and dropped on to the grass landing in a crouch. She ran through a bombed out building, keeping an eye out for any enemies. Just ahead, Tyrena could see IMC grunts filing into the building housing Hardpoint 'B'.
"Pilot, your Titan's good to go. Call when ready." Sarah said giving her a head's up.
"Copy." She whispered. The battle was picking up. Several more dropships were coming in on both sides and a quick glance up showed IMC and Militia ships engaging in danger close combat in low orbit. It was a mess. Out of the chaos though she could see the Red Eye taking damage from the ground based turrets. It was a sitting duck while being refueled.
To confirm her fears, a large explosion erupted on the Red Eye. Bish's video feed came up onto her screen, "I know you guys are fighting hard but the Red Eye is taking some serious damage. You need to keep those turrets offline for as long as possible."
"They're doing what they can, Bish," Sarah responded, "We're taking a pounding on all fronts."
"I know, things aren't going easy."
"Easy?" Sarah said heatedly, "Most of our dropships are being picked off by Phantoms. This'll be a miracle if we pull this off!"
"I know…" Bish's feed went silent.
"Let's give them the time people." Briggs said over the comms
"Aye aye!" Tyrena said eagerly moving from her cover into Hardpoint 'B'.
"You got it, boss," Vlocke copied.
Inside the building, Tyrena saw IMC troops firing on Militia across the street. Tyrena could hear them call it in, "We've got Militia opposite our position, requesting Titan support." Faintly over the comms a Titan Pilot responded, "Confirmed, moving in to support." She heard enough, Tyrena kicked the closest Grunt and gunned down the other three quickly. Grabbing one of the fallen grunt's carbines she readied herself for to engage the incoming Pilot.
A foot hit her in the back of her leg forcing her onto her knees. An arm swiftly locked around her neck, suffocating her. She struggled for a second to break free of the grip.
"This is for Captain Riggs." A harsh voice said to her ear before swiftly twisted her neck. Tyrena's vision caught a glimpse of her killer, the sight not registering fully as her head was not facing 180 degrees in the wrong direction. The IMC Pilot released his grip and Tyrena's body slumped to the floor, paralyzed from the neck down. The man took a few paces from her before speaking into his comm, "Militia Pilot down, that's a couple thou for me." Tyrena choked for breath that would not come as her vision faded out.
"Tyrena's down, we've got a pilot down!" came the frantic call over the comms. Damn this is all going to shit. Briggs said to himself. He heard Vlocke's voice respond, "Give me her last position, I'm not leaving her for the IMC to collect."
"Cancel that," Briggs said into the comms as he hauled himself up a ledge into a building's second floor.
"What? Briggs you got to be joking!" Vlocke shouted.
Briggs arched himself against the building's interior, "I know she's one of us Vlocke but the mission comes first."
"Fuck you to hell!" Vlocke yelled back.
"That's a direct order Vlocke!" Briggs yelled at him.
"Captain Briggs, just what the hell is going on down there?" Bish demanded.
Briggs knocked a new mag against his head and slide it into his R-101c, "Chaos, Commander Lorck. Childs is down, Captian Dunham is KIA and I can't reach McCord or Schumacher on any of the frequencies."
"Damnit." Bish cut out.
Things were going bad, really bad. He had counted at least three enemy Pilots but seeing as how dire things were getting, more may have been deployed. Outnumbered and outgunned. On his NavMap, Alpha was under IMC control again and Bravo was right behind it. His best bet was for them to reinforce Charlie until evac arrived.
"All units, this is Captain Briggs, fall back to Hardpoint Charlie and await evac. I repeat all units under my authority dig in around Charlie to await evac." Briggs used another stim as he jumped from the second story and took off towards Charlie. He passed the remains of Captain Dunham's destroyed Titan and soon linked up with a squad of Grunts.
"This is all QSF, Sir!" The grunt remarked.
"Don't need to tell me Grunt. I'm well aware." Briggs grabbed him by the shoulder so he could speak to him clearly, "Pull back to Charlie, on the double. Evac's on the way!"
"Copy, sir!"
Briggs released his grip and continued to move towards 'C'. "Sarah, I'm requesting Titanfall." He painted the drop point on his HUD.
"Standby for Titanfall." She replied and in moments his Titan slammed into solid ground. Briggs jumped for the cockpit as his Titan reached out and pulled him in. Once he was inside, he shut the hatch and flipped some switches. He recognized some of the patchwork Sarah and her crew had done on his Titan while in dry dock. As patchy as it was all systems were green.
He waved the grunts towards him with his titan's hand and they broke into a sprint to get clear. The Titan's protective dome was still in place and a couple Archer rockets collided into it as well as stray small arms fire. What a cluster fuck. Briggs breathed in and began to cover the infantry's escape by firing a rocket salvo down the street towards the advancing IMC.
Vlocke smashed into an enemy Titan by the shoulder. He could tell by the readout that he was winning. The enemy Stryder's shields were down and his last salvo had knocked out its 40mm cannon. The enemy titan boosted away sliding on its roller wheels designed for quick maneuverability.
"You're not getting away, you little shit." Vlocke fired off his chaingun, scoring several hits up the left side of the chassis. Losing its balance, the enemy Titan crashed into the side of chunk of recently pushed up rock. Vlocke boosted into to finish the kill as he saw the Titan collapsed onto its knees. He flung his Titan's fist into the stryder's cockpit and ripped out the IMC Pilot.
Vlocke examined the Pilot, it was a CQB Pilot and the one he had fought earlier but he wasn't sure. Eh, all of them look the same. The man struggled in his Titan's grip, his arms feebly trying to escape. Vlocke saw that just a few meters away that the cliff to his left was above a large valley.
"I hope you can fly!" Vlocke pulled back his Titan's arm and chucked the pilot towards the valley. "Alright Bish, where was Tyrena's last position?" Vlocke demanded.
"Just inside Hardpoint 'B', but I think this is a bad idea, Vlocke."
"Noted." Vlocke wheeled about face and headed towards Hardpoint 'B' just north of his position. He had to get Tyrena out one way or another. He approached the same blown out opening he had fought the CQB Pilot earlier.
"Titan engaging guard mode." The onboard computer notified Vlocke as he exited the Cockpit.
"Just wait for me Zeke." Vlocke said to his Titan as he equipped Eve.
An IMC grunt was dragging his injured comrade just up the stairwell. Without a moment's pause Vlocke fired at both. Another two grunts were on the opposite end of the room firing at the retreating Militia. Vlocke fired another two rounds into both and slun Eve onto his back. He needed both hands for Tyrena's body. Vlocke engaged follow mode for his titan and he met it just around the corner. He quickly opened the hatch and put Tyrena's body inside the cockpit.
"Unidentified Pilot," the AI's voice began as Vlocke closed the hatch.
"Just keep her safe for me." Vlocke said as he injected a stim into his blood stream. Once again his vision blurred slightly as the immediate-acting effects started. He boosted up the side of the wall onto the roof and began to sprint towards the remaining bastion of Militia control: Hardpoint Charlie. From his vantage point, it was quick two jumps back to the evac point. Vlocke could feel his heartbeat as his boots connected with the solid floor. As he leapt through the air onto the next building time seemed to slow down. He quickly glanced over his right to where his Titan was keeping pace just over his shoulder.
"Warning, Auto-Titan engaging enemy Titan." The onboard computer warned him.
"Do not engage, keep following me." Vlocke yelled back over his comm to his Auto-Titan. He hoped it wasn't a mistake.
"Confirmed, resuming follow mode."
"Vlocke," Briggs voice came over his comms, "The hell were you thinking?"
"She'd do the same for us!" Vlocke responded and leapt off the second building into the friendly zone. He saw Briggs' Titan just off to his left as he dove for cover.
"Damnit, Vlocke, two more enemy Titans just dropped in, I need your help to cover the evac site."
"But…" Vlocke protested.
"Now, goddamnit!"
Vlocke's Titan had circled the building and was staring directly at him. It seemed to be pleading with him as well. "Alright, alright!" The Titan opened the hatch and Vlocke put Tyrena's body on the roof. He looked about for a quick second and yelled towards a Grunt. "If her body doesn't get on the Crow, neither do you!" and with that Vlocke stepped into his Titan. He kissed his fingers and then touched them to the top of the cockpit for good luck.
Briggs was ducked behind a structure as his titan reloaded the chaingun with his last drum. What was left of the evac site was a handful of what remained of Little, Stewart, and Schumacher's squads. But that was the least of their worries.
An emergency frequency blipped onto the screen. "Mayday! Mayday! This is the Red Eye! We're going down, we're going down!" From low orbit, the hulk of the Red Eye careened over the battlefield as gravity pulled her down towards the earth. A loud and long shriek of the ship's engines reverberated in Brigg's teeth. Transmissions began to come in all over the comms but Sarah's frequency cut them short.
"We've lost the Red Eye to the IMC, we're aborting the mission, get out of there!" Sarah said over the comms.
Briggs' Titan came about the corner and fired several rounds at two IMC Titans down the street. He had to quickly take cover again before they returned his fire shredding his cover. He boosted out again and fired another salvo before their shields could recharge. Most of the rockets flew past but some of them scored a hit. The IMC were quickly boxing them in and soon enough Briggs might not even have an exit to get to.
"Vlocke, talk to me! How's your flank?"
"Peachy," came the strained reply.
"Keep up the fire, we have to buy as much time as we can."
"I know." Vlocke said curtly.
Briggs saw off to his left was a caved in wall just by the Charlie hardpoint and above it, an entrance to the roof. That was his exfil, the second the Crow made touchdown he'd bug out through that hole. His onboard computer reminded him that multiple titans were engaging him.
"Vlocke, it's getting crowded here."
"Sorry boss my Titan got wasted, I'm ejecting now."
"Copy that." Briggs opened his hatch and made a jump for the caved in wall.
"Hey!" came a shout behind him. Briggs looked to see the Grunt from earlier looking up to him. "Thanks for coming back for us sir!" The Grunts behind him were stacking up the wall trying to make their way for the Crow.
"Just get onto the Crow!" Briggs shouted back and boosted up the wall out of the hole. Once he got onto the roof, he could see Vlocke heaving Tyrena onboard before he clambered on as well. There wasn't much cover between him and his ride out of here, but if he didn't try he'd be left behind. No prey, no pay. Briggs made a run for the dropship suddenly falling forward onto his stomach causing his nose to smash into his faceplate. He shook his head and looked towards the dropship. Vlocke was shouting something and waving his hands behind the Crow's shield. Briggs' couldn't make out what he was saying over the sound of gunfire all around him. He tried to stand up but he couldn't feel his legs. Briggs looked down to see why. Oh, my legs gone. Well, shit.
Briggs' body disappeared in a cloud of smoke kicked up by automatic titan fire. The dropship door began to close and the engines began to throttle. "We can't wait any longer, we're out of here." The Crow's Pilot shouted and the Crow quickly climbed and white light enveloped the cabin. A moment later the ship was in outer atmo. Vlocke slammed his fist against the hull.
"Fuck!"
Vlocke unhitched the clasp on his helmet on and dropped it onto the floor. Tyrena's body was still next to him on the floor and he cast it a solemn gaze. "I'm bad luck now aren't I?" Over the Crow pilot's intercom Bish and Sarah could be heard discussing the aftermath of the raid.
"Well, we've got enough fuel for another month," Bish reported.
"It was chaos down there Bish, our tactics were a mess."
"Sarah, neither of us has any experience leading a force this size."
"Then, we're gonna have to work with what we've got; We're out of options," Sarah stated firmly.
"Alright, all incoming dropships board the Annapolis." Vlocke heard over the Pilot's intercom. Out the window, floating derelicts and debris could be seen scattered throughout the planet's lower atmosphere and in deep space. Smaller fighters and ships scattered looking for dry dock while the IMC fleet closed. Birmingham class ships closed in with their main guns ready to deliver the coup de grace to the exhausted and worn out Militia Fleet. As their main guns began to open fire, the Militia Fleet flung itself into FTL jump ship by ship.
The Crow touched down on the deck of the Annapolis. The side door swung up and the pilot slowly got out of his seat. He took a look at Tyrena's dead body and back towards Vlocke and decided that flying into a hotzone was enough crazy for him today. The pilot left the dropship without saying a word. Vlocke was still holding onto Tyrena, he couldn't really bring himself to leave. There was some commotion outside but Vlocke didn't pay it too much mind. He had let his team down back there on the raid. It was one thing to lose but a whole 'nother thing to have your whole team wiped out. People go mad with that kind of grief.
A team of medics appeared in the dropship and at first they looked at Vlocke expectantly, but he didn't move. He just stared at Tyrena in his arms. A pair of hands clasped his shoulders and Vlocke gave something of a start before he let go of her body. She was lifted up onto to a stretcher and hoisted away. Then he was alone in the Crow.
What he needed was something strong to take the edge off.
"Forget all this shit! I need to stab something, shoot something, or blow something up! Fucking anything!" Vlocke gritted his teeth in frustration and helplessness.
Recovering himself, he checked his pockets for a stim. He found one and jabbed it into his arm and let it fall onto the deck and sighed deeply as the drugs kicked in.
About twenty minutes later he had found an armory in the lower levels. It was similar to the one on the Redeye, in that it was poorly maintained and full of pock marks. The range was all but empty except for the one person firing at the end of the range. The operator was firing his R101c carbine with a bad feeder from what he could tell. He walked down the lanes towards the Pilot, who was in their undersuit. The man grunted in frustration as the gun made another poor burst. He put the weapon down on the counter and removed his earplugs. The frustrated pilot began to tear down the weapon. Vlocke kept walking towards him his eye on the carbine.
"Whoa." The pilot jumped when he noticed Vlocke. The Pilot could see that Vlocke was still covered with dirt, blood, and other battlefield stains. "Hey, what are you…"
Vlocke cut the pilot short by pushing him out of way as he picked up some of the tools and began to fix the problem with the carbine. In a matter of moments, Vlocke had fixed the issue, reassembled the rifle, and slapped in a new mag.
"Fuckkk!" Vlocke pulled the trigger firing a full auto blast down range. When the gun ran dry, Vlocke hopped over the counter onto the range, tossing the weapon aside, and charged the target and began pounding it with his fists. He heard one of his fists crack but he didn't care, he just kept punching until the emotions were gone.
When he had exhausted himself, he collapsed onto the target. He breathed deeply almost wheezing and yelled back towards the other Pilot, "Hey mate, where can I get a drink and a game of stabscotch around here?"