Centurion (Sgt.) "Basilisk"
I did not know Sahara well, but I understood her. That is what drove me to attend her funeral. Skirmishers accept death, but there is still nobility in honouring the dead as individuals. Riley held up well during the ceremony. I was proud of her. I knew what the girl meant to her, as she had fondly told me the stories of Sahara's various eccentricities and exploits. It couldn't have been easy to file her away into the archives of the past. Still, a war allows for little time to mourn.
Sahara was much like us. Born a machine, bred to kill, but reborn without purpose for slaughter, the reason to do so stripped out of the mind. Wiped clean. An innocent soul in a murderous body. But the struggle for purpose, for identity, is a path to insanity, if unresolved. The same issue affected many freed ADVENT, or as Betos has named them, Bi'Damu. Free Minds. For that is what we are.
The Commander came to me when they struggled in soothing Sahara's mental state. I told them all I could, and offered to take her on as a protege, in the same way that Betos had taken me under her wing. They told me the Skirmishers were partly what had caused her mental collapse, with our lust for violence and extreme measures. I understood that as well. We Bi'Damu are fueled by our own personal vengeances against the Elders and their cruel deeds against our species, as well as those towards our sister species of Earth. It is effective fuel for us, who were birthed by the Elders' hands. But it is innately destructive as well. Such motivations are not suitable for everyone.
I heard what happened from Riley, a day or two after the funeral. How her friend died. Sahara was brave. She died nobly. But she did not die well. Her actions were not that of a mind who was content making a sacrifice to save the lives of those around her, but one that could not bear to live and see what would come next. Sahara did not believe her life was necessary. I, too, thought this when I was first freed. That to atone, I must die. I did not realize that to do far more good, I needed to live. To fight. And to bear the weight of my own past, but not be overwhelmed by it.
I was part of the second generation of Bi'Damu. In that sense I was lucky. In many senses I was lucky. The first had been born of a project of the Elders to create more free-thinking servants. This failed, and much of that generation was eradicated. The few that lived became the first Skirmishers, but many were still unable to survive for long. Not due to the administration hunting them down, but because they were torn apart by their mental grief and struggle. In contrast, we of the second wave were all freed by the Skirmishers. This gave us mentors, a home, and a purpose. I doubt many of us would have survived otherwise.
There were many that died of more violent causes afterwards. After all, we surfaced in a river of blood. It does not stop flowing because we wish it to. We lost several good soldiers in the Valley Raid, not to mention XCOM's sacrifices. And the Avenger Assault, while less deadly, was no less brutal and bloody. It was during the course of the latter that I realized that the full war had finally begun. That we were no longer content to scrape by and live as our defiance against the Elders, but were instead aiming to destroy them. To fight them, blow for blow, life for life. But the most important lesson for a Skirmisher is that we must press on, even in the face of death. And Menace-2 was still ready to serve.
Apart from the loss of Sahara, Menace-1 had taken several other casualties that would render their squad as on reserve status. Jack Walls was the most severely injured, taking numerous shots and suffering burns as he covered the retreat of everyone still outside the Avenger. He was the last one through the doors, still firing from the ramp as it closed. Meanwhile, Lt. Luo had broken an ankle after making an involuntary dismount from his sniper perch. He was still in good spirits, but would be out of combat duty for the near future.
Karl Wentz and Connor Walker made their way back safely, although not without danger. As LCpl. Walker made his way out of the building, he was beset on by several ADVENT soldiers. To eliminate them, he spun wildly, knocking over several and hitting the majority of them with automatic fire. He nicknamed this maneuver the Death Lotus, which has caused some of the staff to begin calling him by the nickname "Lotus". I'm glad that they found some humour in the incident. It was sorely needed. Riley, on the other hand, was pockmarked with dents in her armour, but shockingly few injuries. She was taken to the infirmary, where she lay asleep for a day and near unresponsive for another half. It was only the news of Sahara's funeral that broke her out of her daze.
Nevertheless, work still needed to be done, especially given the new nature of our war against the Elders. Our first mission, or rather, set of missions, was a mere four days after the grounding of the Avenger.
-xxx-
Given the uprisings in North America, as well as our presence here, the aliens had ramped up their security and resource deployments to the region, and were bringing far more non-humanoid troops into North America. The populace would be none too happy, but then again, the administration was already losing their tenuous grasp on the continent. I doubted they cared much for the veil of normalcy at this point. Nevertheless, we would at least try to slow them down, and claim some materiel if we could. Our targets were airbases. Not ones for troop transports, but for foodstuffs, spare weaponry, and other logistical supplies. Specifically, we targeted locations holding large supplies of alien foodstuffs. If we could damage their supply chains, we would no doubt force a slowdown of the alien deployments into North America.
We coordinated with local resistance groups, who did the scouting. We would then strike, clear the site, and call in the cell, who would empty the site of anything useful, handing us a good portion of whatever was useable. The first four airbase raids went off without a hitch, one night after another. The aliens had defended their troopships well, but when it came to the logistics, they lacked such strong protections. At the start, we faced essentially no resistance, apart from skeleton crews of ADVENT. The aliens simply couldn't spare the manpower, the new creatures needed to suppress uprisings and the old ADVENT still holding on to their own sites. Eventually, however, our enemy found a solution, and began setting traps. Traps that we would eventually step into.
-xxx-
"Even though the last missions have been successful, and various other resistance groups have been performing similar raids with positive results, we must not get arrogant. A misstep can still be fatal, regardless of the dearth of enemy presence." I reminded my team, as the Skyranger flew over the dense woods of Northern Ontario. Our contacts in the area had alerted us of a large, sparsely manned freight carrier landing at the site. Despite the large amount of cargo, likely to be soon disseminated throughout the Eastern precincts, there seemed to be hardly any lifeforms. But the aliens had more than just lifeforms as ground forces.
"Look, if we run into any robots, I'll just hack them. Isn't that right, Zipper?" Specialist Avci said, as she tickled the underside of her GREMIN. She was one of the two new Strike Team operatives, who had been getting their feet wet during these covert strikes. As Carpenter and Reeder were still injured, the Commander assigned us with two temporary soldiers from the Scythe-class infantry squads. Specialist Avci, a tech operative who was the only survivor still remaining from the currently disbanded Scythe-1, and Specialist Martinez, a grenadier who had distinguished herself during the assault on the Avenger. Both had shown competency in the field, but also had seen no real trying combat. They would eventually.
"Yeah. We can handle ourselves out there. We're all trained and competent killers, so don't patronize us. Ma'am." Came the insufferable voice of the Reaper. Dove, he called himself. I did not like the man, his attitude, or his disrespect for authority. I would ask for him to be transferred out of my unit, if we weren't perpetually short-staffed as an organization. As it was, I dealt with him curtly and professionally, and avoided him as much as possible out of combat. In combat, I didn't have much of a choice, and he at least did not seem traitorous. Unpleasantly, the two new members seemed to be taking a liking to him. Vivian, on the other hand, seemed to find him as irritating as I did. Cherry was inscrutable, as always.
The whirring of the engines began to dim as the craft slowly descended, and Firebrand came over the radio.
"Time to drop. Godspeed."
I unbuckled my harness as we roped down into a clearing, less than half a kilometre from the site. Our approach was slow and quiet, and we eventually stumbled upon a small fence, more to keep animals out than any armed assailants. We made our way through with a laser cutter, and as we made our way onto the site I assessed the situation. The aliens had commandeered an old airfield, presumably using several of the sealed hangars as storage bays. There was a building to our right, in disrepair, that likely used to serve some function to the military that utilized this base long ago. And right in front of us, in pitch black and sprawled out across the runway, was a massive ship, nearly a kilometre in length, and looming over the other nearby structures, bar the air control tower. I motioned for us to slowly approach its still open ramp, facing right towards us.
"Whoa. That thing's massive. And you're telling me there's no aliens on it?" Asked Martinez.
"No." I responded. "Or at least, few. Less than half a dozen. The more aliens it carries, the less cargo it can move. It's invulnerable in the air, and either well-guarded or hidden on the ground."
"Not hidden enough." Martinez said. "What about mounted weapons?"
"Also no. More weight, and nobody to shoot at. The Elders scrapped all of their large combat UFOs once the war was over. Nobody could challenge them in the skys. Not without rebuilding several advanced jet fighters, the schematics of which have been thoroughly purged."
"Wow. I just did a quick scan, and there's maybe less than a dozen lifeforms on the entire base. For something this big, that's got to be all crew, right?" Said Avci.
"Yes, but even stretched as thin as they are, ADVENT is never this lax about security. Even those small regional airbases had some moderate security measures. And for something this big…" I suddenly heard the sound of servos, faint but still menacing."MECs. That's their solution to being understaffed." The sound began to draw closer.
"I don't think they're just wandering towards us." Said Vivian, as she drew her weapon and began heading for cover. I did the same, and motioned for the rest to follow. We drew near the dilapidated building and the motor pool adjacent to it, as I could just begin to make out glimmers of light on metal. Many, many glimmers. Too many for us to take.
"Avci, I need you to disable at least half of the MECs before they get here. Otherwise, we need to leave as soon as possible." I whispered to the squad. "We cannot win against two dozen MECs at once." The figures grew closer for a second, then a sharp, simultaneous whirring occurred as many of the approaching figures stopped moving.
"How did you hack that so quickly?" Asked Martinez.
"I remotely shorted out the central control panel's motherboard."
"Oh."
There was a moment where several of us took a sigh of relief, thinking we had just lucked out into a combatless operation. I was still on guard, however, and as I realized several of the MECs were still approaching, I opened fire, as I pitched a grenade out towards the closest enemy. The grenade caught my bullet as it reached its destination, detonating right next to the MEC and shredding its circuitry as it fell to the ground. The rest began to open fire towards us.
"If the control's down, how are we being shot at!" Yelled Vivian, as she launched a frag grenade into the centre of the incoming fire.
"They must be from a different network! Maybe the ship has its own security?" Avci replied.
"Shit. That's going to be at least one or two dozen bots to shoot." Said Cherry. I had no idea how he knew this. Still, that seemed to be an accurate assessment, as I could see around ten more MECs disembarking from the aft of the carrier. Meanwhile, several shapes were moving towards our location, even as we were still dealing with the remnants of the first group that engaged us. These were skinny and jittery, far unlike the MECs yet still clearly inorganic. They looked to be attempting to breach the building and gain a flank on us. I had to stop this to prevent the squad from being encircled and eliminated.
"Grenadiers, Cherry, hold the MECs off! Dove, with me. We need to protect the building." I said, as I sprinted to the door, shooting a quick burst at the lock to break it open. Inside was a strange juxtaposition of luxury goods and the ravages of time, clearly a forgotten officer's lounge and mess. Shattered dinnerware littered the floor, and the fine wooden table at the centre of the room had been broken in two, a mess of bricks lying on the crack. The dividing walls had partially collapsed, granting vision into both the kitchen ahead and the leisure room to the left. I drew my weapon, not knowing if the creatures had entered yet.
I got my answer when they kicked down the front door. The two of us opened fire, and the first one dissipated in a haze of yellow cubes. Two more filed in, however, and fired back, sending us diving for cover. They seemed quite angered by their companion's death, and another one manifested in the kitchen, flanking us. Fortunately, it seemed to need a second to compose itself in reality, in which time I shot the propane tank beside it. The creature let out a tinny scream, and died. Then, a purple void enveloped the two of us, and the magazine fell out of my gun.
"Shit! They can do that?" Yelled Dove, as we ducked out of the colour before it imploded. The things were in good cover, and we needed to flush them out before they could fire. However, we'd have to reload to do so, opening us up to a counter-rush that would almost certainly prove fatal. I was out of grenades as well, so I took a glance at Dove's belt.
"Throw the claymore at them."
"But I need-"
"DO IT!" I yelled, and he tossed it towards the enemy. As it landed, I shot my grapple at the bomb. The detonation seemed to kill both of them, and I put a new magazine into my bullpup. Then a flash of plasma hit Dove in the back of the head. I turned around to see the yellow creature, now in the corner of the room, and fired a quick burst at it. It died, like all the rest, but it sounded like it was laughing as it died. Dove was screaming, and it was easy to see why. The back of his head had been completely vapourized by the plasma, and the half-melted skull was revealing burnt brain tissue and leaking cerebrospinal fluid. I doubted a Medikit would fix major brain injuries, and even if it could the person who had it was still locked in combat, if the shots from outside were anything to go off of. He would almost certainly die, and sooner rather than later. I made an executive decision to put him out of his misery. Two bullets through the skull holes seemed to do the trick.
It was unfortunate to lose Dove. As much as I hated him, and even given the fact that he'd admitted to eating ADVENT bodies, he was at least a decent soldier. And now I was short a sixth of my team, making our chances of living through the night that much slimmer. I exited the building to rejoin the rest of the squad, as the sounds of shooting began to quiet.
"Dove is KIA. Building clear. Status?"
"We've dealt with all but one of- We've dealt with the MECs. What's our next move?" Asked Avci.
"We've lost our scout, but we still need to push that ship to secure it. Next target are those MECs, if they won't come to us."
"I'll use this thing to scout, don't worry. Just stay behind it." Avci gestured to a MEC, gun still smoking, but not firing on us. I supposed she'd found a way to control them. The five of us left followed a safe distance behind as it made its way towards the ship. However, it was not scouting for long. Soon after it had begun moving, the sound of metal on metal rang out from its carapace. The captured MEC sparked and tipped over, as the robots in the distance pumped round after round into its plating. I was at least thankful that those rounds were not hitting us. However, the enemy also wasn't moving towards us, so I motioned for us to rush to the next set of cover, as the MECs began to redirect their fire towards us.
"Take control of another one." I hissed.
"I can't! I'm locked out!" Avci replied.
"Shoot them, then." I said, as the machines continued their onslaught. We had pushed up onto the side of the runway, crouching behind lightboards, fencing, and a broken plane wing, and were desperately sending all of our fire in the direction of the MECs near the ship. Our bullets either struck the MECs themselves, or the ship behind it, illuminating the night sky with brief but vivid flashes of lasers striking metal, ejecting molten material in red-hot starbursts. Still, our weapons were nonetheless having trouble fully punching through the armor and hitting the delicate circuitry at this range.
"Chu, any grenades?" I asked.
"Negative. Blew them all earlier." Replied Vivian.
"Martinez, grenades?"
"Got a couple." Was the answer.
"Then shoot those things!" I yelled. However, as she got out of her crouch to launch her grenades, a burst of mag bullets struck her right in the chest. The heavy mag cannon bullets exited out the other side of the armor, followed by at first a blossom of blood droplet, then a slow trickle down the backside. She slumped over, clutching her heart.
"Shit!" Yelled Vivian. I, too, was worried. We needed those grenades to get through the armor. I needed someone to launch them.
"Cherry, I need you to get those grenades downrange." He nodded. But instead of running, he slowly began dragging himself out of cover, towards the launcher. The MECs did not fire towards him. Inch by agonizing inch, I watched as he made his way closer, and closer, and closer, as we continued our relentless but ineffective assault, taking multiple full magazines of fire to get through the armor at this extended distance. Finally, he made a quick movement, grabbing the launcher and rolling into cover in one swift motion.
"Can't peek out or I'll take a bullet. What angle to shoot at?" I heard him yell over the din of gunfire. I closed my eyes for a second, and imagined a grenade flying through the air like a mortar, using all of my gifts of combat calculation. Then I opened them, mental image of shredded robots locked in my mind's eye. Cherry had a compass out as a makeshift protractor.
"38 degrees."
"Got it." Then three thuds of compressed air, each followed by the click of a rotating barrel. Three explosions. I looked up. The majority of the MECs were now sparking. It only took a few well placed shots to put the exposed ones down, and the remaining ones fell quickly after. Silence fell over the night. We warily approached the ship, and after a thorough search, found only three cowering crew members. We quickly disposed of them and the few remaining on-site technicians, before calling in the recovery team. There was nowhere to keep the corpses of the recently-deceased, so we moved them into a dark corner of the ship. I went to fetch Dove's body. I had seen the most death out of anyone present, and I did not much care for him in life, so I didn't mind dragging his melted face to the craft.
It took the resistance recovery team an hour or so to arrive, dozens of large trucks in tow. I was surprised we encountered no further resistance that night. I supposed the aliens had their hands full, no doubt dealing with many other raids occurring that night. The frying of the facility's security system didn't hurt either. The team found us amidst the various crates the ship housed, their trucks rolling up in a swarm, like a tarmac arrest in a pre-war movie, parked haphazardly all over the runway. Vivian had fallen asleep on a sac of nutrient gel, claiming it felt like a water bed, while Derin was trying to imitate Engineer Shen and get the ship flying, to no avail, given the strings of invective that were ringing out from deep inside.
"Wow. This thing is massive. Didn't run into any problems after you signalled?" Asked one of the resistance operatives, stepping out of the closest truck.
"No. We do have two operatives, KIA, that need to be transported in cold storage." I replied.
"Alright. We'll toss 'em in one of the coolers that are bound to be in here. My team will take it from here, and we'll get your cut to your barge in a couple days, once we finish sorting it all." We, however, were none too excited about standing in the dark outside, so we sat to the sides as the recovery team hauled crate after crate outside, by hand and with the assistance of various machines of burden. The sounds were coordinated and industrial, deeply soothing to some inner recess of my mind.
"First casualties for the squad." Said Cherry, having held his silence, even after the resistance had begun unstocking the captured vessel.
"Yes." I replied.
"You feel it a bit, even if it's happened to other teams of yours before. The first blooding. When you remember that it's not gonna be like this forever, or even for long. That it changes at a moment's notice, or with the blink of an eye. Eventually, we'll all cycle out or die, and everyone that died for each other, the other dumbassess in their foxhole, will start to forget. It's a grim reminder that who we fight and die for is just as ephemeral as everything else."
"To a degree. But I do not remember faces for long. Something the Elders did to us, no doubt. To make us more efficient soldiers."
"Mmhm. Sometimes I wonder what that would be like. Easier in some ways. But harder, too. Especially when you want to remember. Me, I find it hard to forget. I've had to deal with it in other ways. Accept the fleeting nature of it all. I'm zen about it, I suppose"
I nodded. "I do not think I have asked you your origins. Let me ask now."
"Fought as a mercenary all over the world, by the age of twenty. I was fighting in Egypt when almost all of our company got blown up by the aliens, back in the States. Our squad wasn't faring too hot either, and eventually we got scooped up by XCOM, right as the war was ending and they were running out of good soldiers. They were picking up damn near everyone who was young, good at shooting, and didn't wear a flag on their shoulder in that last month. Made my way up to the Canadian FOB after the base fell. Took a couple years, went with a couple groups. Most couldn't fight or survive, and died along the way. But I made it, and kept with them."
"And before that?"
Cherry laughed. "Born in Minnesota. Hardly the type you'd think would serve. Had long hair, called myself an anarchist, all that shit. Then a friend told me about the rates the PMCs were paying at the time. Six digits in the first year, millions if you stayed for the long haul. A bubble, but one we'd be locked in contract with. Uni wasn't cheap, and I bailed after first year. Served a year and a half, before everything went to shit. I never ended up using that money, but I did learn to shoot. Might have been the best investment I ever made." But before he could continue, the man from before came up and called out,
"We're getting ready to leave. Hop in one of the trucks once you're ready."
The resistance team took as much as they could, and to their credit nearly managed to fit all of the usable material into their army of vehicles, as well as several commandeered from the nearby motor pool. However, there was still plenty of unprocessed material that would not fit, and of course the alien food that was our primary target. Fortunately, they were prepared. After whatever was left was piled in a heap in the centre of the cargo bay, a large group of resistance members lifted a crate of plastic explosives into the hold, then headed for the front. I knew what the target was. The elerium generator, which would no doubt detonate violently if it were to become unstable. The ship began to rumble, as we filed off of the ramp. The engines had been turned on, but not lit. The four of us that remained hopped into the back of one of the troop transports, and the entire convoy began its meandering journey.
Then a fireball, dozens of stories tall, ripped into the air behind us. We had covered at least ten kilometres from the airbase, but the sound of the explosion still shook me to the core, and I could feel the heat in the air, if only faintly. It slowly faded, but the light hung in the air for minutes. First, the fireball dissipated, then the smoke, leaving behind the sight of glittering elerium dust, lighting up the night sky like an army of fireflies. It was beautiful, in a way. In the way that destruction is often beautiful, when physics takes the astronomical numbers we throw at it and makes it into pieces of art, shrapnel streaks across the sky and fires framing it all in scalding light. I gave a soft laugh. It was the world we lived in, where our moments of awe came in explosions and chaos.
-xxx-
With our squad now also short staffed, the Commander had reactivated Menace-1, with several recruits airdropped in to fill the void. It helped to take the load off of us, at least until Carpenter and Reeder had returned from injury leave. But it was not long until we would be back on the field. We had taken several minor jobs, but these mostly consisted of recon and the occasional elimination. This time, we were in for an operation that would almost certainly be the most difficult this squad had ever been assigned.
For the mission, we were given special ADVENT-style armor, complete with proper transponders, and handled several of the precious few ADVENT Mag Rifles we had recovered from the field. Shen had managed to break the linkages to the troopers we recovered the weapons off of, but still cautioned us to handle them with care. Even if they were fireable, they were also important research and propaganda pieces for the resistance. This level of special preparation, though seemingly excessive, was absolutely necessary. The mission was absolutely brazen. We were to extract three elite scientists from the city centre of the North American administration's capital in Denver, and there was no possibility of Firebrand dropping us in. It would be difficult enough to fly out, even with a set of dropship transponders attached to the craft. Our infiltration, thus, had to be covert.
The plan was simple, if not exactly easy. I would talk our way into the research lab, ostensibly to arrest dissidents, one of the few activities we hoped would not need prior permission checks. Then, make a distraction, break a window, and rappel down to the park avenue right outside the research laboratory with the researchers. Push through the street, towards a highrise on the other side, then make contact with a double agent working at the building, using a codeword. Make our way to the top, then hop in Firebrand with the personnel. A difficult mission, in the heart of ADVENT's power. As such, I needed to be permanently taking point on the mission. Which began as soon as we entered the doorway of the research facility.
The six of us stormed in, guns not drawn but at the ready. I had given the instruction for everyone else to act mute. Even if they knew the language, their pronunciations would no doubt give us away.
"We are here to arrest dissident scientists, who the Elders have learned are working with subversive factions." I said firmly in the mother tongue. The guard in front of me seemed worried and unsure of what to do. Likely newly born. Something I could use to my advantage.
"We require credentials to access the building! Do I need to have you reported to a superior, and have you liquidated?" I yelled at the trooper. It shook its head, and quickly produced a set of keycards. We continued upstairs, swiftly making our way up the building. Vivian and Cherry trailed behind a slight bit, placing explosives in hidden corners. Hopefully they would distract the guards when we would inevitably set off the alarm, and buy us just a bit of time. The research lab we were looking for was on the fifth floor, and we kicked the door in, guns pointed at whoever was unfortunate enough to be in the crosshairs.
"Citizens! Do not be alarmed. We are here to take in three of your peers for questioning. If you have served the Elders faithfully, you shall not be afraid. Michael Bass, Sarah Steele, and Rachel Lux, do not resist. Line up against that window, and keep your hands raised." I called out the three that we were here to rescue, and positioned them right next to our exit. They seemed genuinely terrified. Of course, they had no idea when this operation was to take place, so they must have thought their plans for escape were about to lead to their deaths, or worse. We moved in close, as if we were about to place restraints on them. As I drew right behind them, I whispered,
"Vigilo Confido."
Then Cherry activated the detonator. The room shook as klaxons began to ring, and Vivian smashed the window open with a microscope. Reeder threw the rope outside, as he, Avci, and Carpenter began to escort the targets down. The three of us held the doorway for the time being, gunning down the surprised guards thinking they would be entering a room of friendlies. Then we too descended down the rope. As I landed, I turned to our rescuees, and tried to put them in combat mindsets.
"You are out of the building but not out of danger. Keep your heads low and follow behind. Stay in cover if possible when bullets fly. Yell for help if enemies appear behind our position." It was not long before the advice would become quite useful indeed. Two groups of enemies began firing at us. The first with mag bullets, and the second with plasma, followed by a hail of slow moving, but destructive micro missiles. The squad took up combat positions, and began to return fire. But we were mostly out in the open, and the enemy had buildings to protect them. Well, some of them, at least, as the source of the rockets rushed towards us. Two Archons, deadly blades drawn, flew towards us, fire shooting out their torso like their propelled armaments.
"'Nade out!" Yelled Vivan, as she launched a plasma grenade into the clump of ADVENT firing at us from what appeared to be the second floor of an art gallery, if the signs were accurate. The grenade was one of Shen's most recent new gadgets, and it proved to be enormously effective at vapourizing whatever was in its way. I saw canvas and alloyed wall shatter into pieces, accompanied by the splatter of orange blood. But we still had two flying aliens to deal with, and their barrage had knocked Avci and Reeder down, both reeling from their shrapnel wounds. They could not stand against these melee specialists in their state.
I quickly grappled onto the closer one, and slammed my ripjack into the back of its torso, ripping and rending the metallic flesh with jagged wounds as I drew the claw through its back. The Archon reared in pain, as it whirled around and knocked me to the ground with the shaft of its spear. I parried its brutal stab towards my organs, but metal was no match for plasma, and I could only deflect it slightly as it seared into my abdomen. However, I still had my gun, while its weapon was stuck inside my flesh. The plasma wound only worsened as I stretched for the handle of my mag rifle, but I grasped onto it, and wheeled the barrel up to the alien's face. The full clip entered the creature's face, and it shrieked, grasping its face in horror as it dropped its weapon and fell to the ground, dead.
I looked around, to see how the others were faring. Carpenter and Chu were engaging the remaining ADVENT in the art gallery, while Cherry had launched a barrage of fire from his gauntlet towards the Archon. The flames had seared Reeder, but the main blast struck the Archon on centre mass, stopping it in its tracks and melting its metal carapace, if only slightly. It fired its beam, striking Cherry in the leg, before Reeder and I could finish off the alien. Cherry winced, but could still just about hobble along.
"Sorry for setting you on fire," said Cherry.
"Sorry for letting you get shot." Said Reeder, as he brought out his Medikit. But unfortunately, the ADVENT were not the only ones garrisoning the art gallery, and the reinforcements had pushed up to the scene of battle. An alien grenade flew towards the two in front of me, shredding Reeder's armor and knocking Cherry on his back. He gave two panicked huffs of breath, clutching his chest, before his strength faded. I could just barely see the air exit his lips, the only sign of life, as blood ran profusely out the plasma-melted hole in his breastplate.
"Medic! Now!" I yelled, as I fired back at the newly appearing Mutons, tossing a grenade of my own towards them. It melted away their cover and armor, as I overloaded my grapple wire's charge, then fired the remains of the grapple itself into the fray. It struck one of the Mutons, which splayed out as its muscles contracted in a literally shocking death. Meanwhile, Carpenter was spraying shut the gaping chest wound of Cherry. It seemed to stem the bleeding, and his breaths grew deeper. Unfortunately, he had not woken, and we did not have time to rouse him. Then, a flash of plasma in the corner of my eye. Steele, one of the scientists we had rescued, had made a mad dash for Cherry's weapon, no doubt intending to use it to help our fight. A brave, if utterly idiotic decision, and one that cost her her life, as she had no plated armor to shield her as a beam of plasma shredded her chest wide open, and she fell face-first to the ground.
Despite these casualties, we were cleaning up the remains of the enemy force. I made the executive decision to continue pushing forward. I slung Cherry over my shoulder, as Reeder picked up Steele's corpse, while the three uninjured members of the team took the front of the pack. They cleaned up a straggler or two as we made our way to the extraction building.
Our guns were drawn as we entered the lobby. Unfortunately, so were those of the ADVENT guards, in cover behind sofas and counters. But one of these was a double agent, so we had to be careful with our shots.
"Dalaithe!" I yelled, as one of the stun lancers swiveled towards her commanding officer, shooting it in the chest and knocking its aim wide. Unfortunately, the shots instead struck a speaker overhead, which tumbled down and struck Vivian in the head. Once again, plated armor saved a soldier's life, as her helmet took the brunt of the impact, but she was knocked out cold, and surely had broken some other bones as it fell onto her chest and right arm, likely crushing a couple ribs. For the stun lancer's troubles, she was ripped to shreds by the bullets of her colleagues. However, this gave us an opportunity to strike first, as our bullets tore into the remaining ADVENT before they could swivel back towards us. Chu took several more bullets as she fell, and I was struck by one right through the cheek, but the rest of our squad stayed clean as we cleared out the remainder of the lobby.
I went to go check the body of the stun lancer who had given her life for us. We still needed to get onto the roof. Fortunately, she had quite considerately written down the elevator override codes on her sleeve, perhaps foreseeing her chance of death. Unfortunately, we still needed the body for verification, so now all four of us still standing were carrying unconscious or dead bodies. The remnants of our squad entered the elevator with the two remaining scientists, and I enabled the roof override, pressing the corpse's hand into the scanner. The door slid shut as I checked my wound for the first time. Unfortunately, we had no Medikits to spare, and the plasma wound in my sternum was getting worse and worse as I walked, the residual material slowly eating away at my flesh. I smelled of death already, and it wasn't just the corpses in the elevator. But all I had to do was make it to the Skyranger.
"Ugh, you weigh more than a rhino."
Avci said to Vivian, who she was evidently having trouble carrying. However, before she could complain any more, we reached the roof. I lurched outside, my training the only thing keeping me conscious through the nearly unbearable pain. I could see the Skyranger in the distance, as it slowed down just a touch while the ropes dropped. Evidently, there was no time for a stationary extraction. Expected, of course, but the events of the mission had left me focusing on little else than the next step to take. The rope had just a bit of slack, which gave me enough time to hook my harness onto it before I felt a tug pull me into the air. I held onto Cherry's body as tightly as I could as the ropes retracted us up into the air, towards the ramp. I could not muster the strength to place my feet on the ramp, so I slid, belly first, up into the craft, unconscious squadmate in tow. The door shut, as I feebly grabbed and sprayed a Medikit onto my wound, before taking four tabs of painkiller in one gulp. I needed it.