WHIRLWIND
Chapter 5: Burning Bridges
"What the hell-"
The explosion reverberated around the central concourse, taking Shiro and the troopers with him completely by surprise. It took the young officer several seconds to isolate the source of the disturbance, a second storey window belching smoke.
Splinters of glass were still spattering across the concourse when the shriek of Hammer Four's rotary chainguns filled the air. A moment later Anvils Two and Four also opened fire as Shiro tried to discern exactly what had set them off.
He glimpsed a flash of movement on the infra-red, and then it was gone through the main gates.
"Three, Four, report!"
"Sir, hostile contact! She's headed for the entry plaza!"
Shiro was grateful for the distraction, drawing his mind from the questions which had plagued his thoughts since hearing of Pike's fate. The fear and anger he had allowed to fester while dwelling on the disaster he now turned on the new enemy.
"You two - Get after her! Five - single hostile headed for your position. I want her neutralized, now!"
"Anvil Leader from Hammer Leader, hostile contact headed your way!"
"Thank you, Hammer Leader, I'm well aware of her."
Corley cocked an eyebrow at Shiro's acerbic response – so unlike his normally professional manner - but chose to simply acknowledge his reply. She had other concerns for the moment.
"Tony?"
Corporal Tony Strader glanced up at her from beside Saber One's battered body.
"Pretty bad, Major. The injuries aren't the problem so much as the blood loss. We should get him back to the 'ray as soon as possible."
Corley nodded, though Strader couldn't see the gesture. "Right, we'll take him back with the prisoners. Put him on the stretcher and suit up."
Strader nodded and with some effort lifted Saber One onto the hoverpad alongside Rinoa Heartilly. The sorceress stirred drowsily at the movement, Corley eyeing the activity with some concern. She toyed with the idea of having Strader try to hook up the sleeper rig again, but decided against it: her people weren't trained in its use and from what she did know it was a delicate procedure to engage it without damaging the subject. She would just have to wait for Tanz.
"Major." Malik's voice cut across her thoughts, "Saber Two."
Corley looked up from the two bodies to see Lieutenant Tanz approaching. Speak of the devil… she bit back a startled gasp at the tech-commando's condition: the left side of her face was caked with dried blood from a gash along the side of her head which had narrowly missed her eye and taken a chunk out of her ear. Her skin was alarmingly pallid, all the more so against the black of her smartsuit and the dark fall of her hair.
Despite the injury Tanz' pale eyes were as clear and piercing as always. She nodded to Corley, moving to the stretcher and beginning to check over the sleep-rig as Strader clambered back into his battle armour.
Corley contained her reaction as the commando went about her business. When she finished the major spoke again:
"Escort them back, Lieutenant."
Tanz stiffened, clearly wanting to stay but years of training and military life denying her the option to refuse a direct order. "Sir, there's still a lot of work-"
The major steamrolled her protest, "It's not a suggestion, Lieutenant. Your other teams can do what needs doing, and that wound needs seeing to." Still the young lieutenant hesitated, and for a moment Corley thought she might put up a fight; after a few seconds, though, Tanz nodded curtly.
"Yes sir." she sounded faintly relieved, and Corley smiled to herself. Human after all.
"Good. See if you can call in one of your other teams to cover our flanks, I'd rather not have to move the prisoners through these corridors unsupported." Tanz nodded and Corley turned her attention to Hammers Two and Three.
"All right," she barked over the commline, "I want all approaches covered until our support gets here. This is what we came for so I don't care if all your sorry asses get killed as long as we get the prisoners out of here! Understood?"
Though her troops knew her well enough not to take the threat to heart, they also knew she expected their best. They snapped to their task with alacrity.
"Sir! Yes, sir!"
Quistis scrambled to her feet, the whine of the enemy's weapons ringing in her ears. Close, she thought; another second before reaching the cover of the passageway and the converging weapons fire from those mechanized behemoths would have ripped her apart. There was no time to consider her options; she could hear the heavy tread of at least one of the massive battlesuits from the concourse, probably giving chase.
She was slowing down, she knew; her wounds were starting to tell. As she ran she used another Potion, and while it stopped the worst of the bleeding the pain remained. She was hardly surprised; she'd been shot, stabbed, burned and bruised all within the past ten minutes and even the miraculous Potions had their limits.
You've had worse, she told herself. The thought, while true, was hardly comforting and she shoved it to the back of her mind along with the pain. There was no time to dwell on it now, anyway; the enemy was in pursuit and just ahead the passage opened out into the entrance plaza, the open area still brightly lit. She didn't like her chances of finding it empty, but there was nowhere else to go.
"Understood, Anvil Leader."
Sergeant Alex Merton closed the channel and hauled on the control sticks of his Dragoon, swinging the battle gear about towards the passage from the central concourse. On the far side of the entry plaza Anvil Six mirrored his action. Merton switched to his channel.
"Jace, switch to - hell! Shoot! Shoot!"
Hot smoke billowed from the passage, spreading swiftly as his finger closed on the trigger and he threw his gear into reverse, trying to open the range. The Dragoon's chassis hummed as its twin chainguns screamed to life, raking across the cloud while Merton switched frantically through his vision modes trying to penetrate it, to no avail; none of his sensors were any use. He let the chainguns fire a moment longer then locked the ammunition feed, leaving the barrels spinning dry. "Shut'em down," he signaled Six, who ceased fire a second later.
"Think we got her?"
"Hell if I know," Merton muttered, leaning forward in his harness as though he could somehow see more that way. A second later he jerked backwards as a figure burst from the cloud, coming straight at him. Even as he thumbed the chainguns back to life she dived to the floor, sliding clear under his field of vision. "Shit! You see her?"
"Yeah, I've got her."
Suddenly Merton's external visuals went blank and his HUD lit up with warning signals. What the hell? What did she- His confusion was transformed to terror when the calm voice of the gear's onboard computer spoke, its quiet drone somehow making the warning all the more terrible.
"Warning: Thermal surge on lower hull."
- Plasma charge! His mind connected the dots before the computer finished. As his hands pounded at the main clasp on his harness his thoughts tried to catch up with his instincts, his imagination picturing the tiny device clamped to the belly of his gear and burning its way through the armoured hull to fill the interior with superheated plasma. The harness snapped open and he fumbled for the emergency release lever on the roof hatch, finally getting a solid grip, pulling and twisting.
The computer was still repeating the warning as the hatch seal broke with a hiss and he punched it open with the heel of one hand. He was sure he could feel the heat even through his armoured bodysuit as he grabbed the lip of the hatch. He tried to pull himself up and found he could not, the half-dozen cables plugging his suit into the Dragoon's control network restraining him. With a desperate effort he yanked them free, scrambling up through the hatch and half-leaping, half-falling clear.
As he scrabbled backwards he stared at his gear. Although the vast majority of its fury was directed against the gear's armour the energy leaking from the plasma charge against the lower hull was dazzling, casting striking shadows across the plaza. It was painful to look at, even through his helmet's photosensitive visor.
It was then that he realized that Six was still firing.
Quistis slammed up against a pillar, pressing her back to it and gasping for breath as the enemy's chainguns tore into the masonry from the other side. She knew she only had moments; those things obviously had plenty of options when it came to weaponry.
Of course so do I, she thought as she assessed her remaining inventory. Two smokers, one plasma, four fragmentation, two flashbangs. Of course, most of her weapons would barely scratch the urban-camo paintwork of the hulking machine. Smoke, then.
As she dropped the grenade she almost missed the distinctive whump of the battlegear's own grenade launcher over the wail of its chainguns. The canister bounced off the wall a couple of meters in front of her and clattered across the floor as her grenade began belching smoke. She could hardly afford to wait; pushing herself around the pillar she broke into a sprint, hoping the smoke would cover her as she bolted for the nearest passage.
The gear's grenade blew moments later, fragments slashing along her right side but the pillar shielding her from the worst of it as she dived into a tumble and piled into the wall of the passage, once again out of sight of the enemy. She took half a heartbeat to recover her breath before straightening and turning to press on.
She had taken two steps when three black figures burst around one corner of the T-junction ahead. The leader raised his gunblade as Quistis made a grab for her whip, but both froze as another canister skittered through the entry. Their eyes flickered from each other to the spinning cylinder and back, and both turned away and dashed for cover.
"Anvil, watch your fire dammit! You nearly fragged our whole squad!"
Shiro listened to his comms system with disbelief. Between it and his audio pickups it sounded as though a war had broken out. Anvil Five had vanished from his squad display moments earlier and Six hadn't stopped firing since. Now it seemed that Stiletto Team had joined the fray and nobody was quite sure what was happening.
"Leader, Six, requesting backup."
What do you mean, requesting backup?! THERE'S ONLY ONE OF HER! Shiro wanted to scream, but he mastered the impulse and cleared his throat before responding calmly, "Three and Four are en route, Six, what's Five's status?"
"Bitch tagged him with a burner. I think he got out okay," Six's anger was audible; the team had trained together for almost two years and were as close as family.
"Anvil Leader, Hammer Leader, we're moving out. ETA your position, ninety seconds."
Shiro swore inwardly. It never rains but pours.
"Understood, Hammer Leader, standing by." he signaled Corley, then switched back to his squad comm: "Get it done, Six, and watch your fire."
"Yes sir."
This is getting ridiculous, Quistis couldn't help thinking as she flattened herself behind a low wall to evade the latest barrage from the battle gear. Aware that the commandos were moving to flank her while the walking tank was pinning her down, she rolled onto her back and tossed a grenade in their general direction before scuttling away from them parallel to the wall.
As she did so the gear's chainguns fell silent at last. Saving ammunition, she supposed; he had to be running low by now. He had stopped using grenades as well after the close call with the TCs in the corridor. Perhaps now-
In the sudden, deafening silence her ears picked up the heavy trudge of battle machines. At least three of them. She closed her eyes; Out of options.
Raised herself into a crouch, she judged the distance to the outer edge of the plaza. Pulling four slim grenades from her webbing she primed them and threw them in a wide arc towards the enemy as she rose and began to run.
The grenades started going off a second before the gears opened fire. The air about her was suddenly alive, the shimmering trails of railgun rounds and the bright slashes of tracers both beautiful and lethal. She vaulted another low wall as though running hurdles at Garden's year games, a trail of destruction in her wake.
Rain pelted her as she neared the edge, slashing out of the turbulent sky, and out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed movement as two of the commandos appeared around a column, their gunblades at the ready. Pure instinct guided Red Scorpion; it lashed about one's throat, jerking him off his feet and into the other as he fired point-blank; as they tumbled to the floor a bullet punched through her shoulder and another grazed her neck, flashes of fire turning her whole side numb.
Then the balustrade was before her and beyond it the turbulent seas and sky. To hesitate now would be to die; she took the balustrade in one stride and hurled herself into the night.
"Hostile neutralized, Anvil Leader," Six's voice crackled in Shiro's helmet, his triumph unmistakable. As Shiro replied the doors to the living quarters slid open and Corley's small procession began to emerge.
Finally. "Good work, Six, can you confirm Five's status?"
"Uh, yes sir, just a moment."
"Anvil Leader, Hammer Leader, let's get moving."
"Just a moment, sir, I'm waiting on an update." Shiro replied. A few moments later Six came back on line.
"Leader, Six. Looks like the burner didn't quite get through his gear's hull, made quite a dent though. I think Alex needs a change of underwear, but he's fine. He's hooking up again; we'll be there in a couple of minutes."
Shiro nodded, relieved, and turned his gear to face Corley's.
"Just a couple of minutes, sir."
"Understood, Anvil Leader."
"Anvil Leader reports the remaining hostile has been neutralized."
Colonel Meridar nodded at Bretten's report. "What about extraction?"
"Hammer Leader reports our remaining people are en route for the extraction point and should arrive within five minutes."
"And the command tap is still operational?"
Bretten glanced down at his screens. "Yes sir."
"Our hostiles haven't destroyed it?" Meridar asked, a little testily.
"It's inside the control system, no external indicators. They wouldn't be aware of its presence."
Lucky for us. "All right. Pike?"
"We've picked up twenty three survivors. Mostly troopers who were in the loading bay, apparently. She… it looks like she went down too fast for most of the crew to get out."
Twenty-three survivors from a complement of almost a hundred and fifty. It took a conscious effort not to let his shoulders sag under the weight of the loss; such a display was a luxury a commanding officer did not have. "…I see. Let the search crews know I want them back on board immediately."
"Yes, sir."
After a moment Meridar glanced sharply at Bretten, who had still not moved.
"Is there something else?"
"The skiffs found Piccolo-2's ejection pod empty, sir."
Meridar rolled his eyes. "Of course they did." He took a deep breath, "It doesn't matter, we don't have time to track them down. Get our people back and wrap this up."
Nida hauled himself heavily out of the accessway, his three good limbs groaning with fatigue which he didn't bother vocalizing. The ladder had seemed to climb forever, but at least it was dry; Nida felt he had had enough of water to last him a lifetime.
Xu was leaning against the wall of the small chamber, which looked to be some kind of substation for the intricate network of electronics that kept Garden functioning. Since she didn't seem to be in a hurry to move on Nida took the opportunity to sit down gingerly, crossing his good leg under him.
"Lucky you knew where to find that hatchway, sir," he remarked into the silence when it threatened to stretch too long. Xu smiled faintly.
"Good luck is the result of extensive preparation, Nida." she replied, quoting one of Quistis' favorite lectures. She glanced at him, "How's your leg?"
"Getting used to it, sir," Nida replied stoutly. Xu nodded, accepting the lie in the spirit it was given. Perhaps one day, she reflected, we might look back and laugh at the irony of surviving all we have survived to be almost killed trying to get through a damn hatchway. The sea had smashed them repeatedly against Garden's hull as they struggled to get in; Nida's leg was fractured and she had at least a couple of cracked ribs in addition to being cold, soaking wet and exhausted from their exertions.
Still, we are lucky to be alive at all, preparation or not, she reasoned. They must not squander their good fortune; they still had a lot of work ahead of them.
"I'm going to the central core," she decided aloud, "I can get a med kit for us there, scout out the situation. Sit tight."
Nida didn't argue, though a part of him wanted to; he wasn't happy with the thought of her taking all the risks. It was the best course, though, and rationally he knew it.
Satisfied with his silent assent Xu quickly checked over her remaining equipment before starting down one of the dark accessways.
Consciousness returned with an intoxicating rush of warmth. His eyes still closed he focused on his other senses, readily identifying the distinctive background roar as that of a Huscarl in flight.
Not dead, then.
"Sir? Sir, can you hear me?"
He recognized the voice as Saber Two's. As he did so the pleasant rush from the Phoenix Down faded and pain resurged from what seemed like every part of his body, the memory of recent events returning with it. The boarding, the infiltration…
The duel.
That memory was painful enough to bring him to full consciousness, his eyes snapping wide open. Even the dim lighting of the interior of the troopship was enough to force him to wince and narrow his eyes almost immediately as they acclimatized.
"Sir?" Fingers snapped sharply in front of his eyes, drawing his attention to the pale face which hovered to his side.
"What-" at the grating rasp of his own voice he paused, clearing his throat harshly, "What happened to you?"
Tanz lifted a hand to the bandages which obscured half her face, prodding absently, "The deputy head."
"Xu?" Seifer grimaced, "You're lucky to be alive." Tanz' expression suggested she didn't feel all that lucky, though she forbore saying it as he continued, "What about the operation?"
She grimaced, which disturbed him; she rarely allowed her emotions to surface. "The primary targets have been secured." Seifer relaxed somewhat at the news; for both the mission and for him personally the primaries had been the main concern and to have failed to secure them would have been grievous indeed. No matter what else had happened, he could now consider the mission a success.
Which isn't to say I'm going to forget what happened, Instructor, he thought before turning his attention back to Tanz' report.
Moments later Piccolo-1 docked to Moray and began offloading.
"All personnel accounted for, Colonel, and our primary targets are secure aboard." Bretten reported. Meridar felt some of the weight lift from his shoulders as he turned to face his captain.
"Thank you, Aden. Take us home." As Bretten turned to his task, Meridar swung to face Jerin Draymar, the electronics warfare specialist assigned to Moray for this mission. "Lieutenant, do you have the command tap on line?"
"Yes, Colonel," the young man replied briskly. Tapping at his console, he brought the Garden up on his displays. "Accessing… I'm in. All navigational functions are available."
"Very good. Get it underway to way point Bravo and keep me posted on its progress."
"Aye, sir. ETA to Bravo is… two hours."
Her head bursting out of the heaving sea for the third time, Quistis gasped desperately for breath and got even parts air and water. Choking she went under again, dimly aware that she was running out of time. Numbness crept through her body, lethargy seeping in as her consciousness began to fade.
Her will drove her on, clawing to the surface yet again despite the pain spearing through the numbness in her shoulder. She could make out the Garden - a dark, curving cliff studded with pinpricks of light. It seemed far away, impossibly far, as she struck towards it.
For a moment she thought that her mind was playing tricks on her; even as she struggled towards it, Garden seemed to recede. Drawing strength from her pain she redoubled her efforts, only to watch helplessly as the realization struck that it was not her imagination.
Gathering speed, Garden's vast bulk swung south, leaving her farther behind with every passing moment. Wait, she wanted to cry, but the roiling seas further churned by its passage closed over her.
Wait…