24 Favorite Area (Reunion cont., Carranza)

a/n: We're still in Oblivia, rethinking the mission gone wrong. Harm warning continues.

All the good things belong to Monolithsoft, but I figure it's time to put Carranza in the list of Nulliverse OCs.

Neesae resisted the urge to run all the way back to the away station under the Giant Ring. She skidded to a halt at Frye's side and flung Carranza down on the sand, then pulled out her sniper rifle, ready to fight side by side with Frye. As wonderful as it would be to get the wounded to greater safety, she knew that dashing back through the ravine would just bring her under relentless attack from the packs and the swarms and the big boy that lived there. Carranza coughed and yelped but first she and Frye had to make this area safe.

Or maybe not. Rosalee's skell, borrowed from Doug and as well-equipped as one would thus suppose, unleashed a dizzying assault of rockets and bombs and things that fizzled and screamed louder than Carranza. The ictus didn't so much die as vaporize, along with any smaller indigen in the area directly in front of the skell.

Frye was on his knees, getting Carranza to lie still and probing the wound. Rosalee ran over, first aid kit bouncing in her arms. Neesae kept her weapon out, deciding that the best she could do was stand guard. After a moment, she flicked on the safety and took a breath.

"You allergic to the anti-toxin meds?" Frye asked Carranza, turning over the man's dog tags with one hand while pressing hard against the wound with the other.

"Why are you asking?! I need..." Carranza stopped to to shudder and cough.

"Always good to ask, especially on the first date, my man," Frye said, although his joking tone sounded forced. Rosalee knelt next to him, case zipped open, and he reached in without looking, pulling out a sealed augment. He ripped the envelope open with his teeth and squeezed the medication into the correct opening in Carranza's armor. The shaking stopped and Carranza seemed to breathe easier. Frye tossed the empty packaging over his shoulder and grabbed for some bandages.

Neesae relaxed for a moment. Then Carranza started to double up on himself.

"Easy man."

"The thing ... not working ..."

"That's your system cramping up, trying to stop the bleeding." Frye lifted his hand long enough to slip a bundle of gauze pads onto the spreading slick of blue, then leaned back against the wound. "Lie still. That's healing you're feeling."

"Hurts ... so ... much ..." wheezed Carranza.

Rosalee leaned over Frye's shoulder. "He gonna make it?"

"Oh sure. No worries," Frye said in his standard gruff voice. "He's not gonna be happy, but he'll do. Those cramps are a good sign. You ladies can explain that to him later." He leered down at Carranza. "But let's get him to an away station or whistle up the medics or something. He won't want our janky asses hauling him back to NLA." Frye pressed harder and added in a lower voice, "Medics first."

"No."

Neesae shot Rosalee a shocked look. Whatever animosity was going on between Lopez and Carranza, nothing had ever made Rosalee cruel. Rosalee's eyes were rounder and darker than Neesae's with surprise.

"No," repeated Carranza. "The stingers, we need them."

Frye was so shocked, he almost stopped the first aid process. "You can't honestly be that gung-ho on finishing the mission."

Carranza had used up all his energy on those two words. "Stocks low ... antidote ... stuff you put in me ... needs ..."

"So what. Another team can get it. Lie still, fool."

"Gotta ... I can make it ..."

"Right. We got this. We got this," Rosalee said, getting to her feet. "He's right, about supply levels and everything."

"Oh you got to be kidding me!" Frye managed to add more bandages even as he was spitting up at Rosalee. "Let NLA figure something out. Carranza here needs some better help than me, and he needs it way faster than at the end of day."

"Weather report is a week of electrical storms. Teams can't manage this kind of close work in those conditions. You know Oblivia weather, Frye. You think the forecast is wrong?"

"Let them figure something else out," Frye said sorrowfully.

"We get four more good kills," calculated Rosalee, "we should meet the quota, at least buy enough time for NLA to figure out that something you want, Frye."

"You can't ... I gotta ..." It could have been funny, how Carranza was trying to lever himself up on one elbow while keeping a hand on top of Frye's.

Rosalee leaned down and thumped his shoulder to set him back flat. "I got a knife just as sharp as yours, chico. Longer too. Me and Neesae have done this plenty, back in the day." Neesae remembered those days. She didn't mention that they'd done it as a team of four, with Irina and Gwin rounding out the crew. Ros wasn't the one with the knife, for that matter. Irina did the carving in those days. Taking down an ictus with just Rosalee wasn't going to be easy, much less getting four, one after another. She kept her mouth shut. "You, Frye, keep Little Man here healthy. Use whatever you need. We'll check in after every carve."

"Okay, boss." Frye's good humor was returning. "I promise I won't end up burning our supply of stasis bags." Expensive and experimental, stasis bags were the tool of last resort, a bag that froze a mim solid and stopped everything, good and bad. The Ma-non swore that no harm could possible come to the users unlucky enough to need them, but word on the Division Drive said differently.

"Not ... that ... the dreams ... don't like ..."

"Didn't I just promise you that was not happening?" Frye twisted to look up at Rosalee. Neesae didn't have the best view of what he mouthed to Rosalee, but it looked like "hurry".

a/n: Giant Ring in Oblivia is my absolute favorite place. Aside from the Roost. And NLA. And the lake with the dinosaurs. And Great Coilbound tree. And Lake Ciel. Frye had a bad experience with augments and toxins in Inktober 2019 16-28.

Next up: Friendship, and I won't even need to cheese that because we already have Rosalee and Neesae on a mission.