Dawn began to break over the Kurrnaki village of Anqua, and the village began to rustle as the locals roused from their sleep. However, a certain group was already up, and in fact, didn't leave less than one person awake at all times.
Initiate II Felix Marakov was one of those people, and stood at his usual post next the wheeled APC that he and his squad had rolled in on when they had come to the natives' village. He was equipped lightly, compared to normal infantrymen of the Word of Blake Militia, carrying only a Blazer Carbine and wearing a simple uniform with a flak vest and helmet. That is, he would have been lightly equipped, before the arrival of the Republic. Now, the remnants of the WoBM barely had enough advanced weaponry to distinguish themselves from bandit forces, let alone having the terrifying technological advantage they had had against the Inner Sphere.
Marakov's face twisted as he once again went over the events that had led him to the place he now occupied. Damned heathen invaders, how dare they invade Terra and take it away from its true guardians! He thought; the knowledge that they had failed in their sacred task to safeguard the homeworld of humanity from infidels rankled the Blakests that had fled the destruction of their budding dominion. Marakov himself felt an impotent rage at the fact that they had to flee farther than any force in history, save that of General Kerensky and the SLDF. And they at least did it voluntarily!
So now I'm stuck here, watching these abominations just so that we can make their warriors do what we want. Which wouldn't be so bad, normally, but in the name of Blake, why me Marakov didn't like the defeat, didn't like the retreat, and he didn't like the planet. It would then be no surprise to students of human behavior to find that Marakov treated the natives with a distinct lack of respect.
Thus it was with distaste that Marakov greeted the day, watching over the village commons as the locals began their morning routines. Several always went out into the fields, to tend the small crops that barely sustained the village in the best of times. Marakov watched them go, glad that today he hadn't drawn the even more monotonous duty of sitting in the blind the detachment had set up to guard the field workers. Only had to kill one of them trying to escape before they got the idea. He looked over to a pike in the center of the commons, where the head of the failed escapee was mounted on a pike to ward off further thoughts of rebellion against the Word of Blake.
Marakov almost smiled, amused that the locals ignored the pike and its macabre reminder as much as possible. But then some of the pitiful creatures started to head in the direction of the APC, and he tensed slightly and glanced around, watching for an ambush of some sort.
His paranoia soon relaxed, however, as he recognized the middle-aged wolf-thing that the natives apparently had chosen to be their representative. With him were two other of his kind, both young females. Marakov sneered as they approached, but he turned and thumped his gloved hand against the side door to the 10-ton vehicle.
It only took a few seconds for the door to open, and an infantryman dressed only in a uniform and carrying a pistol came out. "What the Hell is it Marakov?" Asked Adept IV Daniken, Marakov's immediate commander.
"Looks like stinky and his two bitches want to talk Adept." Marakov responded using the derogatory nickname that one of the wobbies had coined for the wolf creature. He didn't really stink all that bad, but it had stuck, as such names will amongst hateful people.
Daniken grunted and walked out of the APC and faced the three natives as they approached. "What is it?" He asked the male.
"Aaadept. Warrriorrs back ssoon." The lupar managed to get out in imperfect English. Daniken - although being a master with languages and having managed to learn the rudiments of Lupari in only two days of patrols in a captured city - had made the local denizen learn enough English so that he could 'speak properly' to the human. Now, however, Daniken was a bit confused. "Your warriors are back? How do you know?"
The lupar turned and pointed in the direction of the large valley that separated two mountain chains. "Firre. Ac- Across-" The lupar frowned as he couldn't remember the word, finally resorting to the Lupari one. "Barlo. Night past."
Marakov turned his head slightly to look at Daniken. The latter shifted his eyes to the former and nodded slightly. Marakov then turned and reached out, slapping the wolf-creature across his snout, turning his head around.
"Valley. The word is Valley." Daniken said with a harsh tone. The lupar turned his head back to face Daniken, fire in his eyes. But it only burned for a moment, as the two humans' stares caused the native to nod dejectedly. "Vaaal-lee."
Daniken nodded to the creature. "Good. Where will they come from?" He said, speaking slowly, since he wanted to be understood.
The lupar turned and pointed along a path at the edge of the forest. "That. Come sssoon."
Daniken frowned a bit, which caused the three lupar to cringe a bit, expecting another blow. Marakov even raised his weapon slightly to deliver a smack with the butt of the weapon, but Daniken spoke. "No Marakov, not now." The guard looked back at Daniken and nodded, and then turned to face the three locals as the Adept spoke again. "Very well. Go now." He waved a hand to illustrate.
The lupar bowed and then turned and walked back towards the large cabin-type building that seemed to be the center of the village's economy and society. One of the younger females turned her head around periodically, watching the humans for a few seconds, apparently watching for any moves that would indicate an attack on them.
Daniken, however, was lost in thought. "Why didn't they call? We gave those barbarians a bloody radio for a reason, after all."
Marakov shrugged. "Well, they are primitives, sir. Perhaps they got beaten so bad that they lost the radio." He said. Inside, a kind of dark glee kindled. I heard what Daniken promised if they ever lost that squawk box. He thought with a barely suppressed smile. Maybe we can make another 'example' out of some of them.
Daniken shrugged at the suggestion. "Perhaps. We'll see when they get here." He turned from looking towards the departing lupar towards Marakov. "Get Anderson and Li up and have them man the turret. I want to be fully ready when these 'warriors' return."
It was another four hours before the band of Kurrnaki warriors returned. Marakov, however, wasn't paying much attention to them, but rather, to whom they had in tow. "Well, I'll be a son of a Davion," he uttered, unconsciously slipping back into his old speech patterns.
A dirty look from Daniken was enough to rebuke the soldier. Good that it would, too, Daniken thought. It doesn't pay to chew out your troops in front of a prisoner. He then turned back and looked over the approaching party, a mask of superior airs replacing his brief spell of anger. The source of his brightening mood was located amidst the group of natives, who had two prisoners. One was a creature that Daniken knew to be of the more second, more primitive sentient species on the planet. The other was a human. And only one human on this planet could have that insignia, the Adept thought, seeing the Republic logo on the arm of the prisoner's jacket.
"Well, if it isn't the infidel." Daniken said with an arrogant smirk as the lupar pulled forward van Horn, whose wrists were bound together in front and to the rope that let the natives direct their capture. "I see you were lucky enough to escape our VTOLs, yet managed to get caught by these filthy creatures."
Van Horn glared at the Blakest. "I thought it better to be captured by these creatures than to see another one of your kind again. Little did I know you had them working for you."
Daniken's smirk grew into a savage grin. "Really, now, that's no way to be speaking to an Enlightened one."
"Enlightened?" Pah!" Van Horn spit at the Adept's feet. "You're no more 'Enlightened' than a blind Omniss member!"
Daniken frowned a bit at the other's display. He stepped forward and backhanded the prisoner across the face, twisting his head around. "You'll speak to me with a civil tongue, or I'll cut it out of your head."
Van Horn brought his head back around to face the Adept. "Big man, aren't you? After all, you have a pack of these dogs to do your bidding, on top of what? That stooge over there," he waved his bound hands at Marakov, "and a couple more to man the APC." He snorted then and waved his arms to the left, towards the village and away from the APC. "Not to mention, a pack of these dogs doing your bidding. I'm sure that it takes a real man to be a prick of a boss that sits on his ass and lets others protect him." Van Horn finished his words sarcastically.
Daniken felt his face grow hot with anger. "You insolent bastard!" He snarled and kicked van Horn in the stomach. The latter bent over, apparently in pain. "I'll teach you to insult me!" Daniken said and drew his combat knife from a boot sheath.
Mikula walked slowly, trying not to arouse suspicion by moving too quickly. Still, urgency propelled him, as Alexis and van Horn were right in the middle of what appeared to be a nasty confrontation.
Not that I know what's being said, he thought briefly as he approached the back end of the metal wagon that vaguely resembled the one van Horn had had. Mikula mentally chastised himself over the brief wandering of his mind. Stick with the plan, no matter how insane it is.
When van Horn had called in Mikula into the clearing and introduced him to the Kurrnaki known as Grono, he had been shocked that the human had managed to avoid a fight. He was even more shocked when van Horn had explained his daring plan to his friends, and the newly awakened raiders. Even they were surprised at the sheer audacity. Mikula couldn't help but admire the human even as he worried over the plan.
Need to concentrate! He rebuffed himself mentally as he reached the area that van Horn had told him to get near. Now what did he say to do? Oh, yes. Mikula looked around as nonchalantly as he could, checking to see that the Wobbies would be as distracted as van Horn had said they would be, and to see if the Kurrnaki were doing what they had said they would do.
He looked just in time to see van Horn spitting at the other human in front of him. Mikula had picked up some English, as van Horn had still taught some to Alexis during their travel and he couldn't help but listen. Now, however, the words raced by and he only caught one or two. The tone, though, was enough to convince him that it was time to fulfill his part of the plan.
The lupar looked back at the rear of the APC, and he searched for the place that van Horn had told him to put the special item he carried. There! He spotted the place described, which was the grille for the engine exhaust. Mikula quickly reached into the bag he carried, and pulled out a bottle that contained a powdery mixture that van Horn had made our of various chemicals taken from a Hercor storehouse. Out of the stopper came a rolled up piece of paper that had been soaked in lantern oil, and Mikula placed the bottle into a crack that van Horn had told him would be there. He called it a 'design flaw.' The lupar then reached into his bag again and quickly took out a match that van Horn had salvaged from his Darter.
A yell came from the area where van Horn stood before the Wobbies, and Mikula turned to see the former bent over, and the apparent leader of the invaders reaching down for something. Hurry! The lupar reminded himself, and he turned, striking the match as van Horn had told him to do - and had showed him when he had started campfires - and the chemicals on the head of the wooden stick came to life, combusting into flame. Mikula quickly brought it to the makeshift fuse, and lit it before shoving the bottle deep into the hot grate. He then stepped back, and turned to walk to rejoin the Kurrnaki warriors who had stood quietly, waiting for the signal.
Alexis watched with fear as the Wobbie pulled out a wicked-looking knife of the kind that van Horn carried. And if it's anything like Earl's, then it can cut flesh as if it wasn't there! She nervously picked at her bindings, which were not as confining as they seemed. The knots were actually tied into the ropes that their 'captors' held. One tug and we're free. She turned, sparing a look from where van Horn now brought himself slowly erect in the face of an obviously angry Wobbie to see if Mikula was still unnoticed. Alexis felt a thrill seeing Mikula spark the strange wooden stick, using the flame to ignite the 'little surprise,' as van Horn called it.
"Teach me? I doubt if you have even had enough education to fill a pamphlet!" Van Horn's words brought Alexis' attention back to the tableau, the red-faced Wobbie holding his knife menacingly. Van Horn, however, seemed unafraid and even mocked the armed man. "I've seen bigger pig-stickers than yours in Capellan pornographies. And feel free to take that both ways." Alexis couldn't understand some of the words, especially the ones that were obviously culturally related. The Wobbie, however, could, and his face turned from bright to dark red. The one behind him seemed somewhat amused, and even had lowered his rifle a bit, apparently enjoying the spectacle.
Then the Blakest reached out and grabbed van Horn by the hair, and then yanked him to the ground. Van Horn yelled in pain briefly, which gave his red-faced tormentor a brief smile of amusement. "You want to fucking compare dicks, asshole?" He pushed van Horn, laying the latter on his back on the ground. "How about I cut yours off and mount it above the barracks door back at our base?"
Alexis couldn't help but have one panicked thought. Where's the signal?
Van Horn lay on his back, watching a very angry Blakest infantryman brandishing a knife. Pushed me down? My luck, and his funeral. Van Horn had seen Mikula light the IED, and so had deliberately inflamed the Blakest as much as possible, thus keeping attention on him and not where it should be; looking for dangers like Mikula.
"Well?! What do you have to say now infidel?!" The Wobbie yelled at van Horn as he leaned over. Daniken? Van horn thought briefly as he read the soldier's name. Stupid name for a stupid person. Aloud, however, he yelled one word. "Krakatoa!"
The Blakest blinked. "What?" Then the area filled with light and noise.
Alexis had dodged to the ground when she had heard van Horn's signal, and she had felt the Kurrnaki that had been her 'guard' pull the rope that released her hands as he, too, dropped to the ground, along with everyone else in the group. Now what?
She had barely thought the question to herself when the Improvised Explosive Device that van Horn had made went off. The mix of gunpowder, lantern oil, and propellant from several bullets was just powerful enough to rip into the engine that powered the Militia APC. Additionally, the fuel lines were ruptured along with the engine's vital components, so that as the searing hot metal flew everywhere, it mixed with the hydrocarbon fuel. The flames reached out and hit the fuel tank about a full second later, and the entire rear end of the vehicle blew up, sending chunks of metal and globs of burning fuel flying in every direction. Alexis winced against the painful sound of the double explosions. But she pushed herself up and raced towards where the Blakest guards had fallen and van Horn lay.
Or had lain, as he had rolled over onto his belly and scythed his legs, catching the downed Daniken in the face with a kick that crunched the Wobbie's nose, sending a spray of blood out. Daniken, however, had reacted better than van Horn had given him credit for, and had yanked his knife to a haphazard attack position. Although not in position to hit anything vital, he blindly stabbed out and managed to catch van Horn in the ankle.
Alexis heard the yells of pain coming from the two as she closed. Feeling that her friend was in danger, she reached into the loose arms of her oversized shirt that had served her since Hercor and pulled out the two hunting knives. Even as van Horn yanked back his legs, the Blakest pushed himself up, ignoring the broken nose and pulling his knife back to make another, better-aimed stab at the injured van Horn.
No! No more of my friends die! Working on adrenalin, she reached the Blakest, who only noticed her at the last second, so blinded he was in rage. She thrust with both arms, and sent the knives plunging into the chest of the invader. Her momentum not fully used, she plowed into the larger human, sending the blades deeper and toppling them both.
Blood gushed from the Wobbie's chest wounds, and Alexis felt the warm stickiness soak into her shirt. A brief moment of panic at the thought that she had been wounded caused her to push back and off of the Blakest. She rolled to the side and came up in a crouch, lacking her knives but brandishing the small but sharp claws at the end of her fingers.
The display wasn't necessary as van Horn, recovered from his precarious position, lunged forward and completed the job done by Alexis, stabbing between her knives with his own and into the beating heart of the Wobbie. Without a thought, he twisted the knife and yanked it free and moved to the side, avoiding the small fountain of blood that briefly erupted from the shredded flesh of the enemy human.
Alexis turned to look over at the other Blakest, and she unsurprised to see two daggers in his own chest, and several bite marks from lupar jaws in his neck and on his face. He was clearly dead, which caused her to relax a bit. But only for a bit, as a new, urgent thought caused her to tense up again. Where's Mikula? She turned to where she had last seen him, near one of the Kurrnaki.
She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Mikula crouching, his sword out and himself scanning the area for any threats. Alexis then turned to van Horn and went over to where he stood slowly up, favoring his wounded ankle. "You're hurt! Do you need help?" Excitement bled into her voice as her adrenalin began to lower a bit, now that the area was somewhat quiet.
Van Horn shook his head. "No." He, unlike Alexis, knew that the situation wasn't secure. He turned around and looked for Pavlo, who had been given the two firearms that the human had with him. Van Horn then spotted him helping up a Kurrnaki who had been hit by a piece of flying debris. A brief pang of guilt was overcome with the feeling of duty. "Pavlo! Get your ass over here!" Van Horn called to the lupar in the latter's native tongue.
The young lupar looked up to the human, and nodded. He then turned and beckoned a local to help the injured warrior. Once free of the wounded person, he turned and ran to where the human stood. "I suppose you want your equipment?" He asked.
"Yes. Hand over the bag." Van Horn said through clenched teeth, the pain from his wound beginning to cut through his adrenalin buzz. He pushed the pain down, however, and took the bag as Pavlo unlimbered it from his shoulder, reaching inside for his pistol and another surprise that he had made.
The door to the APC flung open, and one of the crewmen inside stumbled out, his face and arms covered with burns and soot. His service pistol was out, but he wavered in his aim. Apparently still in shock from the explosions.
Van Horn had no compunctions about taking the hapless man out, and he pulled his M3000 out and fired it straight into the chest of the smoke-blinded Blakest. The loud retort startled the natives around him, but he didn't pay them any attention as he moved over to the APC's door. Mindful of his wounded left ankle, he leaned out, using the door as leverage to spare his injured foot from too much weight, and pivoted around, his .45 pistol leading the way.
Inside, however, all he saw was smoke, and the dim outline of a body slumped in the gunner's seat of the turret. Van Horn pulled his pistol up, and turned to face Mikula, Pavlo and Alexis, who had all gathered near him. "The other one is dead already." He was about to ask about how his friends were doing, but Grono ran up, another, middle-aged kurrnaki lupar in tow.
"Vanhorn!" The former said as they reached the small group. "The village is being evacuated, but Fastuolono here says that there were at least four more of the Invaders, and they usually guard the farm fields."
"Shit!" Van Horn cursed in his native tongue. "Tell your people to hurry. Take only food and water. Weapons and money are third priority."
The elder lupar blinked. "Third? What's the first?" Van Horn looked back with a blank look of his own. "Why, women and children of course." He replied. "Now, get going! I need to get ready to fight those other invaders off." He waved at the two Kurrnaki, who got the idea and ran off.
The one introduced as Fastuolono turned and spared Grono a look. "I never thought I'd say this, but I like that one."
"I thought you would, dad."
Mikula was a bit in shock, partially at the explosions, partially at how successful the plan had been, and partially at Alexis. She actually killed someone. The thought contrasted with his normal mental image of the young gatón. She always seemed so delicate and sensitive.
His train of thought was interrupted when van Horn hobbled to one of the dead Blakests and took a large weapon off of the one that had been killed by the Kurrnaki. He then turned and waved to Mikula. "Come here."
Mikula blinked a couple of times in confusion, and then walked over. As soon he got there, van Horn pressed the Blazer Carbine into the lupar's hands. "Take that, and cover the front of the APC." The human said in his clipped tone. Mikula's ears went down as he became more confused. He looked over the unfamiliar weapon for a second, and then back at van Horn. "I... I do not know how to use this."
Van Horn sighed and took the weapon back, flipping it over to show Mikula the side. "When you want to kill something, flip this lever from this position," he tapped the safety switch, which was in the 'safe' position, "to this." He pushed the small lever to the 'armed' position, and then held the carbine up to his shoulder. "You aim like this at whatever you want dead," he then bought the weapon back down and again held it side up, "and then press these levers back." He tapped the carbine trigger housing, careful to not touch the triggers themselves. Van Horn then looked Mikula in the eye. "And, under any circumstances, do not point it at anything - anything at all - that you don't want dead."
Mikula absorbed the instructions and the warning. The latter made his ears flop down even more, but he nodded and took the weapon when van Horn safed it and handed it to him. The lupar then jogged the few steps to the front of the APC, got into a crouch and scanned the panicked village. After assuring himself that the immediate second was clear, he took a moment to check over his new weapon. What the Hell have I gotten myself into?
Van Horn repeated his instructions twice more, after giving his pistol to Pavlo and the Blakest's service automatic to Alexis. The former he sent off to find Grono and basically act as the protector of the evacuating Kurrnaki. The latter stayed with van Horn and Mikula, near the APC.
Our time's running out, he thought as he bandaged himself with a first ad kit that he had plundered off of the dead adept. Those other assholes will be here soon, and-
His train of thought was interrupted as his rescue radio began to beep. Van Horn stared mutely for a second, trying to clear his head of the pain and adrenalin, before he realized what the beeping meant. Woo hoo!
He quickly reached around and into his back pocket and triggered the speaker button, only to hear a transmission coming over the established Republic frequency. "-Ung. Do you copy? Repeat, Dr. Earl Tancred van Horn, this is the USS Rodger Young, can you hear us?"
Van Horn pressed so hard on the transmit button that he half wondered if he would break it. "Rodger Young! Goddamn it's good to hear your voice! Where the fuck are you?"
"Dr. van Horn, please authenticate." The voice asked, somewhat dispassionately. Van Horn could only stare at the box for a second, before his anger bubbled over and his again slammed the transmit button. "You goddamned twisted bitch-" the speaker was female "-I'm down here, getting my ass shot up by fucking Wobbies from half the mother fucking Inner Sphere, trying to keep people from dying, and you want my fucking authorization codes?! Just get your overpaid, navy asses down here before I go up there and cut off you fucking head and shit down your neck you godless whore!"
Silence reigned for a second, and van Horn heard the unmistakable noise of rifles. Before he could call to Mikula to be careful, the radio again came on, but this voice was a deeper female's. "We'll consider that an authentication, van Horn. Only an M.I. trooper could have a mouth that dirty to the people that are coming to save his ass." The voice said in an amused tone. "Can you give us a location and a general sitrep?"
More rifle noises erupted, adding a tense feeling to the air. Van Horn paused a moment to calm himself a bit and remember his general location. "I'm on the northern continent, central area, north, on the northeast side of a valley that cuts the northern mountain chains in half." He paused for another moment to catch his breath. "Sitrep is as follows. I an some indigs have engaged a small Blakest patrol, approximately four to six more of them approaching from the-" He paused to get his bearings straight, then continued. "Approaching from the northeast. Terrain is forested mountainside; local indigs are friendly and evacuating. I have several helping me to establish a position from which to repeal the attackers."
"Indigs? I thought that they were primitives?" The voice asked incredulously.
Van Horn frowned, but he decided that he'd blown up enough for today. "They're full of surprises."
"I'll bet. All right, M.I. Platoon inbound, gunship insertion. Switch your rescue radio to active beacon and hold tight. ETA is about twenty minutes."
More gunshots erupted, much closer this time, and Mikula dodged around the front of the APC, several bullets whizzing past. Van Horn saw this, and grimaced as he clicked the transmit button. "Better tell the pilot to cut that in half, 'cuz we're about to be royally fucked. Switching to beacon now, so don't expect to hear from me."
"Good luck, jarhead." The voice replied, using the traditional insult that the navies had used against their marine troopers for hundreds of years.
Van Horn smiled a bit and replied one last time with the usual retort. "Thanks, Squid."
Pavlo waded through the crowd of fleeing kurrnaki as they streamed down a path that led deeper into the forest. He looked around; scared from the shots he had heard coming from the northeast, and worried that he might miss an attacker.
A grip on his shoulder caused him to spin around, and he pointed his pistol halfway before he recognized Raso. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" Pavlo said, relief and adrenalin-laced fear mixed into his voice.
Raso held up his hands. "I'm sorry, but I wanted to let you know that we're almost fully evacuated." He pointed to where the lupar were disappearing around a bend. "Grono and the village elders are already ahead of the group, and only this last group and the field workers have yet to leave."
Pavlo nodded. "Good, because we have at least four more invaders to go through." He turned to peer around the corner of the building against which the two had taken shelter to get out of the now-thinning crowd.
"That, uh, is the other reason I came back." Raso's unsteady voice caused Pavlo's hackles to rise, and he turned to face the kurrnaki as he continued. "One of the elders mentioned that another group of Invaders had come after our raiding part y had left. They were in the fields as well, which is why most of our workers there are running for the forest instead of coming back here."
Pavlo stared at the other lupar. "What? How many more? Did they have another metal wagon?" He asked heatedly.
Raso held up his arms again. "I don't know! All he said was that another group had arrived before he was swept away. I came back so that I could warn you and-" A loud crashing came from the direction where van Horn and the others crouched near the disabled APC, interrupting Raso and causing both lupar to spin to face the noise.
Halfway between where they stood and where the other riders from Hercor crouched, another APC - this one a tracked version - crunched over two abandoned hovels, its turreted Machine Guns sweeping back and forth.
Pavlo's ears laid back and his tail found its way between his legs. "Oh, shit."
"Oh shit!" Van Horn fairly yelled to no one in particular. He stood up, using the bulk of the ruined APC for leverage, and leveled his Intek Laser Rifle. Taking careful aim, he waited for the inevitable infantry. "Alexis, get back." He called to the gatón as a Wobbie trooper poked his head around one of the ruined walls of a hovel. Van Horn wasted no time, and he sent a laser bolt into the face of the hapless trooper, killing him instantly.
Unfortunately, the shot attracted the attention of the turret gunner, who swiveled the dual Machine Guns around, prompting van Horn to duck and drag Alexis further behind the wrecked APC. He was just in time, as the gunner opened up, sending a hail of bullets at them. Tracers lit up the air and the sounds of the bullets hitting the armor of the ruined APC contesting with the yelps of fear from Alexis and Mikula.
"Fuck!" Van Horn couldn't help but curse. Gonna need to mess with his aim, he thought and turned to look towards where Mikula had pulled himself behind the wrecked APC, instinctively seeking cover. "Mikula! Do you still have those matches I gave to you?"
"Yes," Mikula called, and he came over in a walk-crouch. "You need them?"
More bullets impacted into the vehicle at their backs. "Would I ask if I didn't? Now hand them over."
Mikula reached into the large over tunic that he wore above his normal clothes to ward off the mountain chill. He quickly found the matchbox and tossed it to van Horn, who held it carefully as he picked up the sneaky surprise that he had grabbed a few minutes ago. "Mikula, cover me when I go to throw this."
Mikula's ears laid back. "How do I do that?" He was understandably terrified, having been wounded by a similar weapon not too long ago. That, and he's totally out of his element, van Horn thought. But now is no time for softness! "Get your ass over by the front and peer around it. When I say 'go' you fire your weapon in their general direction. You don't have to aim perfectly, just shoot so that they will get down and not shoot at me."
Mikula gulped, but nodded. He crept around Alexis, who was crouching near the APC's tire, and he then looked around the edge of the ruined vehicle. Oh shit, this isn't good, he thought to himself.
"Now!" Van Horn yelled, and Mikula leaned out further and brought up the weapon as van Horn had told him how to. The safety already off, he aimed at the vaguely moving shape of an invader and fired, using both triggers.
The effect was astounding to him, even though he had seen its like before. Twinned beams of searing energy leapt from the barrels of the blazer carbine and reached out, barely missing the targeted figure and burning two streaks of scarred material in the wall of a hovel. The figure and two more that Mikula could see dove for cover, even as the enemy gun turret swept to aim at him. I'm gonna die, the lupar thought.
But death wasn't in the cards. Van Horn had lit the Molotov cocktail that he had made from lamp oil and a bottle, and using the wrecked vehicle as support, threw it at the enemy APC. His aim was good, as was his strength, and so the burning bottle flew through the air and landed right on the enemy turret. The bottle broke and the flames spread with the oil as it splattered over the entire front top half of the Blakest APC.
Yells of alarm came from the enemy, and the machine guns stopped firing. Mikula wasted no time, sighting the carbine at another shape, this time aiming carefully. He then triggered the dual-lasers again and was rewarded with the sight of the beams impacting the shoulder of the Wobbie, who collapsed.
Bullets began to land around Mikula then as the downed trooper's fellows sighted the source of the beams. Before any could connect, however, Mikula felt a pair of hands grab his legs and yank him behind cover. He twisted on the ground to see that it was Alexis. "Thank you."
"It was nothing." She said, and then turned so she could look at both van Horn and Mikula. "What do we do now?" She asked the former.
Van Horn grunted. "We hold, or as long as possible." He then reached for his radio again, and flipped it back to transmit. "Anyone listening?" He called out.
A moment of static came on, and then another voice came from the radio. "Van Horn, this is Boat Alpha-2 inbound. You were supposed to keep you beacon on."
Van Horn nodded unconsciously. "I understand, but the situation has worsened significantly. Enemy strength is much larger, at least twice as large, and they have a-" Sounds of rifle fire interrupted van Horn, and he turned to see Pavlo running towards them on all fours, his pistol between his teeth.
"Oh, fuck me!" Van Horn yelled, forgetting that he left the button pressed. He quickly let go and stood, putting weight on his bad leg temporarily so that he could level his rifle quicker. He aimed carefully and fired, hitting one Blakest attacker with a glancing shot to his arm. The infantryman ducked down, as did several of his fellows, and van Horn wondered if perhaps they could survive intact.
Then the machine gun turret, apparently blinded, started to fire randomly, sending a hail of bullets in multiple directions. Van Horn ducked and then collapsed as his bad ankle gave way. Before he could let out a yelp of pain, however, another came from van Horn's right. He turned and saw Pavlo sprawled out, just coming to rest after falling, the cause of which was apparent, as he had been hit in the arm with one of the bullets coming from the enemy machine.
"Pavlo!" Mikula yelled, and he leapt out to get his brother.
"Goddamnit!" Van Horn yelled. "Alexis, cover them!" He then pulled himself up, again using the ruined vehicle as leverage as he aimed his rifle haphazardly, letting off a pair of shots at the enemy infantry. Alexis, too, leapt out at van Horn's words, and she brought the pistol up as van Horn had showed her and the others during their trip. She pointed at the large, still burning machine and fired.
The shot was wide, as she had held on too tight to her grip but the noise was enough to get the enemy to stay down. Meanwhile, Mikula had reached his brother and helped Pavlo stand, and then they both ran back.
Alexis stood still, and let off another shot. Cover them, keep the enemy at bay! She wasn't aiming too well, but she didn't care, so long as Mikula and Pavlo made it out all right. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the two reach safe cover, and van Horn fired another shot. Time to get back, she thought, and she turned and began to move towards the safe area behind the damaged APC.
But she had barely began moving when the enemy turret opened up again, sighting better this time thanks to the fact that the flames on the tracked APC were dying as the lamp oil was consumed. A burst tracked Alexis, sending fountains up at her feet before the stream adjusted upward. Several bullets then crashed into the young gatón, just below her ribcage, and then left, leaving gaping holes in her front and back. Staggered by the impacts, Alexis collapsed forward, landing on the ground next to the APC.
Mikula stared wide-eyed at her fallen form. "NO!" He yelled and reached out, dragging her in despite a new hail of bullets coming from the enemy gunners. Ignoring them, Mikula turned Alexis over and held her by the shoulders. "Alexis? Can you hear me?" He asked loudly after seeing her eyes shut. They opened briefly, and she coughed. "Ow." She said quietly.
"Alexis!" Mikula yelled, his spirits buoyed by her return to consciousness. It was short-lived, however, as he finally noticed the blood pumping out from her wounds. "Van Horn, help her!"
"Shit," the human said as he kneeled down next to where Mikula held Alexis in his arms, "shit shit shit shit shit." He couldn't help but mutter. "Put her down on the ground and cover us."
Mikula looked up at van Horn. "What?" He asked in a daze. Van Horn responded by grabbing his shoulder. "I can't defend us and take care of her at the same time! Get off your ass and shoot some of those cocksuckers!" He yelled, using the English insult.
It got through, and Mikula nodded shakily. "Y-y-yes." He reluctantly let go of Alexis, and van Horn laid her down carefully on the ground. Not trusting himself to look at her anymore, Mikula turned and reached for the weapon he had dropped when he had ran to grab his brother. Quickly finding it, he edged around the front of the APC and fired blindly at the enemy. You will pay if she dies! He railed mentally at the Wobbies.
More gunshots erupted from a hovel to the enemy's right, and Mikula realized that they enemy must have sent out flankers. A crossfire that will decimate us! Even as Pavlo grabbed van Horn's laser rifle and snapped off a shot towards the new threat, hope waned in Mikula's heart. What are we to do now?
Van Horn worked feverishly, using bandages from his emergency first aid kit and gatón bandages to try and staunch the flow of blood from Alexis' midsection. Oh God, looks like an organ got hit! Maybe even intestines. Jesus Fucking H. Christ, what a mess! He poured a bottle of antiseptic into the wound, hoping to stave off any infection before lifting up Alexis' shirt to get at the wound better. Working quickly, he managed to weapon the area with gauze and native bandages, but the blood flow, though stymied, still leaked around and through the bandages.
"How is she?" Mikula asked after he dived back from where he had been covering the group. Pavlo, too, moved back, trying to minimize his profile to the enemy flankers.
Van Horn shook his head. "Not good at all. If she doesn't receive top-notch medical care soon, she'll die." He said, and almost instantly regretted it, as the lupar's eyes seemed to drain of life. "Don't go to pieces on me now, Mikula." He said vehemently. "I need you, she needs you to keep it together and fight the enemy off."
Mikula looked plaintively at the human. "But, for what?! They have us flanked, and soon they will kill us all..." The lupar's voice trailed off, even as the trilling of Pavlo's firing continued amidst the background of machine gun rounds landing nearby.
Van Horn reached out with bloodstained hands and grabbed Mikula by his shoulders. "For what? For what?!" He yanked the lupar so that he faced Alexis' prone form. "Because that's exactly what she would do if it was you lying there. Now do your duty, soldier!"
The rough treatment and harsh voice seemed to break through the wall of despair that Mikula had started to grow. He blinked, and looked up from Alexis to the human." Yes... You're right." He said and nodded. Van Horn let him go and Mikula grabbed the carbine again. "What should I do?"
Before van Horn could answer, a new, screaming noise came from above, and a shadow eclipsed the sunlight pouring into the kurrnaki village. Everyone looked up at the vague shape. "What is that?" Pavlo asked panicked.
But van Horn's grin and sure voice broke through the brothers' confusion. "That is a set of Hellion-Lifter VTOL jets! I'd know those anywhere!" He said, remembering the distinct noise of the Republic Assault Transport's engines.
Van Horn's confidence was well grounded, as the hovering shape let loose with a deadly barrage from its LRM-20 rack, sending a score of missiles to impact the enemy APC. A double burst from the Ultra autocannon and searing bolts of pulse lasers finished the vehicle off, slagging through the rents in the armor created by the high-explosive weapons, and destroying the components inside. A great fireball erupted from the vehicle as the ammunition cooked off, and the turret flew off its mount to crash to the ground.
Screams of alarm and pain came from the enemy positions, and their fire was refocused from van Horn's group to the hovering transport. It was short-lived, however, as the doors on the side of the 185-ton shuttlecraft opened and large, legged shapes dropped out. Riding down on ion jets, the platoon of battle armor began to fire on the Blakests even before they landed, sending laser beams, streams of machine gun bullets and even a couple of Inferno SRMs streaking into the places where the Blakests had found purchase.
In seconds, it was over, as the fifty plus men and women pressed forward and finished off the enemy to a man. The Farkas brothers just stared in mute astonishment and terror at the display of sheer violence.
Van Horn, however, knew better than to stare. "MEDIC!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs. "I need a medic here!"
Before van Horn could even catch his breath, a trooper in scout armor bounded over on his jump jets. The Lupar cringed back, pressing against the APC out of fright, but van Horn knew better, having seen the medikits the scout trooper carried. "'Bout fucking time! She's been hit bad!"
"Alright, get aside." The imposing bulk of the trooper blocked out much of the light from the sun, but his helmet-mounted light flared on and gave him the grim picture. "Sweet Jesus." He took out a kit and began to do his work, but he paused to turn his helmeted head to van Horn. "I'm gonna do my best, but she needs to be taken to the Young."
Van Horn nodded, and then turned to Mikula and Pavlo, who had stopped cringing, but still was weary of the trooper. However, at van Horn's look, Mikula came over. "Will she be alright?" He asked van Horn.
"Hopefully, she will. But we'll have to take her to our ship." Van Horn replied, and then shifted his gaze to the other lupar. "Pavlo probably should come too. That is," he looked back at Mikula, "unless you'd rather wait here."
Mikula shook his head. "No, I will go with her." He indicated Alexis as he spoke. He then turned to his brother. "Pavlo..."
"I heard, Mikula." Pavlo said. "I'll go with."
Van Horn nodded, and then turned to face the Scout Trooper, switching to English as he did so. "They're all going to come along."
The trooper just nodded and turned back to working on Alexis. "Fine, now let's go before she gets any worse."