"Rem! Status!" Corr called out from the back of the shuttle.
"Green across the board still, Si-" She relayed, interrupted as her display shifted from green to a warning red and appropriate alarm to match.
"What's that alarm for up there?" Haxx called out, not liking it one bit being at the whim of another, locked in, and nowhere to go.
Rapidly scanning her instruments and scanners, a lump formed in her throat and felt as arid as a desert. An active radar lock. They were being targeted.
"Uhh...Corr-Sir...radar lock on us from AA. Active targeting. Orders?"
Corr looked in through the door, only to have his eyes filled with a blinding light from the searchlamp on the roof. "Evasive maneuvers! Now!"
Wincing as the cockpit became bright as high noon, her implants aided in negating its effects. Throttling full burn, she pitched the nose down into a dive just as the emplacements opened fire. Several quartets of mass-driven fire began hammering out a high-velocity tempo with white-hot tracers streaking through the darkened sky.
"Everyone hold on!" Rem called out as she put the inertia dampeners to the test with the sudden changes in course against Vort's gravity.
Her expert maneuvering, while nimble, was not infallible. The sheer volume of anti-aircraft fire filling the air would have put even AI-controlled vessels to the ultimate test. Most of the withering fire narrowly missed by mere inches. Concrete pulverized into powder with chunks falling into the artificial abyss below. Windows shattered in a storm of razor-sharp glass. Both bounced and pelted off of the hull of the shuttle while the occasional round found purchase on its hull. Some bounced off, unable to penetrate at their angle or velocity. Others punched through armor and burrowed deep.
"Damn it…." She growled through grit teeth, attempting to ignore the plethora of warnings popping up on her instruments at damaged systems.
That was quickly overridden as they reached the outer limits of the guns' range only to witness more and more radar locks. The warning chime may as well had been a never-ending blare as it sustained from all the overlapping signatures. The color drained from her face despite maintaining the controls. "...oh no...oh Irk…"
About that time, one of the last volleys of AA fire landed true, stitching a series of hull-violating, cabin-depressuring holes through the shuttle. Porthole windows were blown out and fragments of metallic shards turned into shrapnel. At speed, the wind shrieked and howled coldly around them with the staccato of high-caliber fire echoing off of the skyscrapers chasing them.
"Oh, fuck this!" Haxx bellowed over the chaos, quickly seeking to undo his harness. "I'm not gettin' turned into paste up here against my will!"
"Haxx, keep your c'hurta in that seat!" Rem yelled at him.
Before she could explain why, the first of several automated, guided missile defense systems let one off and began closing fast. Her expertise and timing saw a hard roll to the right, going inverted in the process multiple times over before leveling back out.
"Captain, I can't keep this up forever! They're going to get lucky eventually!" She called out to Corr.
Zutel felt a breeze next to her head, reaching up with a hand after recovering from shielding her face and finding a hole bored through the shell of her steel helmet. A total miss of her face or head, thankfully. "Well…"
Corr undid his harness to make his way up to the door and grabbed onto a handrail, his magnetic boots keeping him in place in addition to that. "How far are we? We can belly land this thing if we have to."
"Worried less 'bout landing, more 'bout not dying right now!" She belted out as more missile launches were confirmed on her instrumentation, closing in fast on her tail. "This is a brick with engines, not a fighter!"
She gave a single, quick glance over her shoulder towards the cabin.
"Everyone alive back there still?!"
"So far!" Haxx called back, managing to get out of his harness with the intent to magnetize to the deck as Corr had done.
"Keep it that way!" Rem responded, deploying countermeasures as the incoming guided munitions got dangerously close. Another pair of potentially-lethal missiles neutralized as they exploded in roiling fireballs at their rear in the cloud of chaff.
What to do, what to do...the AA network was beyond substantial. Every block. Every tier. Every level, some form of pain awaited them. A single gnat of a vessel against an entire warehouse full of bug spray. Even if they could make the LZ, the VDF was alerted to their presence...this complicated things, greatly.
Another sudden launch and inbound missile forced Rem to pull back hard on the flight stick, pitching the nose skyward...right as Haxx was about to put his feet on the deck, free of his harness. A startled yell from the Heavy Weapons Sergeant followed as he fell several meters to the rear of the ship, now acting as the floor with the aid of gravity. He plummeted past the secured Lieutenant at the stern of the vessel, smashing into the sealed ramp.
"You idiot! Maglock!" Volx called out to him, by far among the most calm aboard at the time. "Rem, take us to ground if you must! We won't survive up here!"
"Understood, Ma'am!" She managed, hugging dangerously close to buildings and making the sharpest of course corrections she could muster with the craft. The AP rounds that drew first blood against them impacted control responsiveness. Control surfaces were compromised with shedding hull plating. Wounded, but not incapacitated, they were fine, they could do this…
"Command, Sector 11, the bastards are underneath the elevation capacity of our guns and are moving out of range. Lost radar tracking."
"Sector 11, Sector 12, don't worry, we got this."
A team of Vortians made their way to the roof of a mid rise apartment building. The team carrying an old fashioned infrared anti-air rocket launcher loaded with a live missile. An old VDF veteran familiar with the system opening up the targeting system and activating it. "Backblast area clear?!"
His second finished preparation work and moved off to the side, "Clear!"
"Firing!" With a growl and then a shriek from the system indicating an infrared lock, he fired.
An ice-cold sweat now blanketed Rem as she evaded yet another automated launch. Were this a simulator, she'd be tickled at her performance. Forcibly throwing their weight around and making this vessel do things it wasn't designed to do was a challenge and a fun one in controlled environments. This was not controlled. The stakes were far greater and there were no resets or do-overs.
"Respectfully, Captain, your landing zone is awful and I hate it!" Rem called out to him in vain to alleviate her stress as she sought to go lower into the artificial canyons. Maybe going in on-foot wouldn't be so bad. Certainly beat playing lethal games in the sky.
"This sucks!" Rha called out from his seat.
Corr looked back, seeing Volx rise from her seat to retrieve the Sergeant before turning his attention back to Rem. "Get us as close as-"
Another alarm blared on her instrument panel. Another radar lock. One far closer than the others. She didn't need to fly by instrument to see the propellant and trailing tail of exhaust from the warhead launched from the nearby roof. Her blood froze and heart stopped. Only at the last moment did she snap from this realization.
"BRACE FOR IM-"
The night sky just outside of the shuttle blossomed in a roiling fury of fire and smoke. The shuttle shuddered and groaned with a deafening roar as both pressure wave and atmosphere whipped violently through the cabin. Night sky, search lights, and Tallum abroad were visible. The ramp was no longer there, nor the right rear corner of the shuttle. The right engine was gone with control surfaces on the right side mangled and non-existent.
Posa, opposite of Volx, saw the Lieutenant one moment. She was gone the next. Both her and Haxx were nowhere to be seen. No blood was visible or smelled. Through the haze of smoke and compromised engine threatening to ignite, they were shedding debris. Among them was a large gnarled section of the rear bay door. On it was Haxx and the Lieutenant clutched in his arms, plummeting.
No matter how hard she pulled on the control stick, there was no response. No power. No reaction. Their descent was inevitable with their fate sealed. Only then did her composure begin to slip.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" She swore under her breath, growling in frustration as she slapped and slammed the control stick around and got absolutely nothing. "Captain, we are going down! Lock in those seats and hang on!"
Despite the dire situation unfolding, she fell back on training as the shuttle shuddered against its own failures.
"Red-1, Purple-5, how copy?!"
Vult, amidst traversing to the first barrier pylon with the rest of Red team, gave pause. Rem's voice was filled with static and desperation.
"Purple-5, Red-1, go ahead."
"Purple is going down, Sir! Repeat, Purple is going down! LZ is-...shit, shit, shit….standby….uhhhh...c'mon...you...piece of...Vortian...GARBAGE!"
By now, Aero and the others realized something was amiss as they noted Vult's body language.
"Purple-5….Purple-5? Rem, respond."
"Little busy, Sir!" She belted back, opting to hot mic and leave the radio channel open to focus on flying. "...oh no...EVERYONE HOLD ON-"
A loud hiss of static cut in. The cause being the apartment building to their front she was unable to maneuver to avoid. Giving up on the unresponsive controls and loss of airspeed, she committed to the crash landing. The emergency blast shield was deployed and power completely cut to the remaining engine. No more momentum to be gained...or the risk of fire upon impact should fuel or coolant leak.
The shuttle's mass plowed effortlessly through masonry, wood, and glass alike, tearing through several apartments and plummeting through multiple floors at a downward angle. A terrible rancor of awful noise amidst this destruction filled the compromised cabin.
For a brief moment, there was relief from it. They had exited the building. The moment was fleeting and barely recognized as the belly of the ruined shuttle smashed into the street and plaza beneath it. Its weight and speed dug a deep, angry furrow into pavement and soil alike. The shuttle, robust as it was, and thanks to Rem's last-minute attempts to salvage the lost cause, ensured they weren't obliterated on impact. Slow enough to not die instantly, but far from a safe crash landing.
The belly skid came to a sudden, violent halt as the nose of the shuttle smashed into the foundation and first floor of the building opposite the one they crashed through to the plaza. An immovable object with what may have been a pebble flicked at it by comparison. Something made painfully clear as the rear of the shuttle rose on inertia alone and crashed back down to the ruined earth beneath it.
Every sense found itself overloaded. The creaking, groaning, mangled mess of metal that was once a drop shuttle barely maintained its initial shape. Dust, smoke, soot, and ash filled the interior between the blasted open hull, perforated viewports, and debris picked up from their fly-by inspection of the apartments. At least the constant blaring of alarms from the cockpit had fallen silent...as had Rem…
Posa, having blacked out momentarily from the impact, stirred, coughing. Her harness held her fast...a little too fast. Her chest was likely bruised and ribs possibly cracked from the force of the crash...but the pain was there. Pain was good. Pain meant she was alive.
"Captain? Lieutenant? Any-" She seethed hoarsely, straining against her harness. "Anyone alive?"
"Rem? Volx? Corr? Someone talk to me, what's going on over there?" Vult's voice demanded through their radios. Protocol was forgone with the escalation of events.
"I'm still here," Zutel groaned, loosening her helmet to don her gas mask and breathe easier. She was likely in the same position as her understudy. Bruised but still alive. "Damn, this sucks." Her mask's speakers amplified her voice as she looked around, including to where the Captain was, only to see a missing deck plate." The field surgeon made her way out of her harness and towards the cockpit.
Managing to finally unclasp her compromised harness, Posa fell from her seat to the uneven deck with a sharp yelp. Yep. Definitely cracked ribs. Her visage screwed tight in pain to the verge of tears, she managed to regain her composure and fight through it, seeking to rise to her feet amidst Vult's demands for answers.
"...Uhh...Commander?"
"Zutel?"
"Posa, Sir...Zutel is here, too."
"What's going on? Status report."
"We...uhh…" She struggled, trying to piece it all together. "Went in hard, Sir-"
About that time, her attention drifted across the cockpit...or what remained of it that wasn't imbedded or buried in the building they came to a stop in. A great swath of bright green splatter coated stone, metal, and glass alike with the very distinct smell of Irken blood accompanied by the steady pitter-patter of drips.
The others were slowly stirring as she rushed past them for the darkened cockpit. Her final step splashed in a gathering pool of blood, causing her to slip. Stumbling, she fell against what remained of the jutting console, next to Rem…
...or what remained of Rem.
The lamp attached to her helmet came on, illuminating the Navigator. What she saw barely looked Irken anymore. The entire front of the shuttle had been crushed and crumpled into the cockpit. Posa saw no legs visible beneath the knees. Only gnarled metal and debris with copious amounts of blood. Likely pinned and crushed given the pool of blood she slipped in. Her left hand, having been on the throttle controls, was mangled past the elbow in a series of unnatural bends with visible bone shards protruding and shredded tissue expelling a steady torrent of blood. A plethora of lacerations, contusions, and smaller, simpler fractions joined the list, but worst of all was her eyes.
They weren't there anymore. Two blank, hollow pits with the remains of optic nerves and wires. Her augmented implants were ripped from their sockets, taking them with them. Blood ran in rivulets over the facets of her face, spattering on uniform, armor, and ship remains alike. Training took over as the medic scrambled in the tight quarters, forgetting her own misery to check on the grievously injured pilot. A digit carefully pressed to the woman's neck, wary to not move her head. Where she expected there to be no pulse, a strong, but slow one ebbed.
Rem was alive still.
"Oh my, Irk…" She commented, horrified as she turned to the rear of the shuttle. "Zutel! I need you up here NOW! She's alive but barely!"
Zutel didn't even hesitate. Swinging her surgical kit off her back despite the pain and making her way up. The experienced surgeon's eyes glanced over the pilot's injuries. That Rem was alive was practically a miracle. She went right to work, drawing out a tourniquet to stop the bleeding from her arm.
"Damn it, one of you tell me what's going on! NOW!" Vult's patience ran its course.
"Rem is fucked, sir." Zutel responded, "Left arm's mangled, legs pinned-"
"Where is Corr? Volx?"
"No clue."
Posa took over as she played assistant to Zutel's more experienced hands. Tourniquets, she could do. Once it was staged, she snatched it from Zutel to apply it. About that time, Rha managed to stir and extradite himself from his own harness.
"What do you mean "no clue"?"
Posa, not wanting to earn her new commanding officer's ire despite the situation, saw Rha stumbling about, calling to him. "Rha! Rha!"
"Hmm? Wha?" He managed, shaking his head. "What's go-"
"Find Corr! Please!" She pleaded, shrugging off her own medical equipment bag for easier access between the two of them. "I saw Haxx and Volx fall out-"
Moving Rem's arm and the application of the tourniquet saw a jettison of arterial spray that caught Posa in the eyes and face.
"Pressure, there! I need to reset this!" She managed to her partner, wiping her eyes at her shoulder to free them of the sting of blood.
"As far as Corr," Zutel responded to Vult as her hands moved to assist Posa, "he was here before the crash, and there's a hole in the deck where he was after."
Rha, stunned from the crash, began shaking the stupor free as more information was fed to him. Things had taken a severe turn for the worse and chaos surrounded them. He smelled blood and it wasn't his. Watching Posa take a jettison of it to the face didn't bode well for Rem with both of their medics tied up aiding her. Haxx and Volx were...gone. Where, he didn't know. The Captain nowhere to be found.
"...okay...okay...s-sit tight, I'll take a look around." He concluded, taking up his rifle and making his way toward the ruined rear of the vessel.
"Hurry! Please!" Posa called after him as she cranked the tourniquet down once more proper. No more surprise spray this time. "Ma'am, even if we stabilize her…"
She trailed off, her head lamp looking down at the crumpled, mangled mess where Rem's legs and the flight controls used to be.
"She's pinned."
"Rha, try not to die! Absent the others...hate to say it, you're a one man perimeter!" Zutel called up to him, realizing she was not only the officer in charge but also occupied. She dug in her bag, bringing out her bonesaw and setting it aside for later. "I'm aware, Posa. Only way she's getting out of here is amputation."
"Right...cross that bridge when we get there…" the understudy reasoned shakily. There was a laundry list of other tasks that needed to be completed first before even considering that.
Corr, while all this was going on, stirred from his position in the street. Deactivating his mag locks from the remnant of deck that fell to the ground with a thud. He pushed himself to his feet, looking down at the pile of broken glass that was his visor, parts of it at least. He reached up to his face and saw blood. Facial lacerations, nothing that couldn't be fixed. Stumbling down the block, he made his way to the intersection and looked to a pair of street signs. Independence and Federal...they managed to get where they needed to go.
The Captain looked out to the wreckage, was he the only one left? Why him? The moments of staring ceased as he turned around, Vurkos...something about a restaurant. That was the place. He stumbled through the door, finding members of Ohnmatu inside. At a chair in front of the cash register, he saw a female with her mask off, face in her hands. Though the small ring of a bell placed on the door drew the attention of everyone in the room.
"I...don't believe it." One of them, sitting at a booth with a GPMG in his lap looked at the Irken at the door. "That's gotta be a ghost."
Tha'Ahko looked at him from her seat. "Captain Corr?" She saw the Irken nod in reply, "Tha'Ahko, Athka Team. You okay?"
"Situation's FUBAR."
About that time, Rha stumbled out of the crashed shuttle, scanning the surrounding area. His HUD, flickering from the damage sustained in the impact, righted itself with a solid slap of the side of his head. Corr's signature showed he was alive and nearby….Haxx and Volx were alive as well, but some distance was between them if the reading were to be believed. One thing at a time. Priorities.
Pushing past his own bruises, he jogged toward the restaurant where his commanding officer had managed to gain entry. Just as he saw him, the present Vortian figures came into view. His rifle was shouldered and raised, but only after he saw the details of their uniforms did he relax shakliy.
"Sorry...things are a little hectic right now…" He apologized, approaching the Purple team's leader. "Sir, I...I don't even know where to begin...I think I'm concussed. Haxx and the Lieutenant are showin' up over a klik away from us, but alive. I'm upright, mostly. So are you. Posa and Zutel are as well."
That was a relief. "Wouldn't be your first time, Sergeant, you handled Haven well despite that. We need to secure the crash site…" he pulled his rifle off his back, only to see the front end bent at practically a 90 degree angle. "...Oh."
Rha barely registered his attempts at humor despite their situation.
"Both of the medics are tied up in the cockpit, Captain...I didn't get a look at Rem myself, but there's a lot of blood. They're working feverishly."
Two medics occupied, pilot down, lost two for the moment. Corr dropped his broken rifle and took a seat at the bar. "Bolt, do you copy?" Hopefully his radio wasn't too far gone.
"Purple Lead? Glad you're alive. We saw you go down and out right as we reached our new positions. What's your status?"
"Absolutely fucked. I can't hear the Commander on my set. Two MIA, two medics are occupied on a casualty. I've lost my primary. We are absolutely not combat effective."
"Hold one." Mizak moved his channels, "Red Lead, Bolt, your second's alive, says his radio's damaged and you're out of contact range."
By now, Vult had called a full-stop on their own maneuvers and settled into a defensive posture. No one was answering his hails and the responses he was getting were sparse and offered little information...or optimism. Vard boosted their signal at the risk of detection, but he was not going to leave half of his team's fate up to chance.
Hearing Mizak come through with some news was a relief as much as it was harrowing.
"What's the situation over there? No one is giving me anything cohesive. Can you see them?"
"I have visual, saw them go down and out. Purple Lead reports two MIA, both medics tied up with a casualty, lost his primary. Not combat effective."
The news did not bode well. The rest of Vult's team knew something was amiss. The bits and pieces of comms traffic they had caught and Vult's attempts to hail them led them all to believe something had happened to Purple Team. The full stop on their end confirmed it. Vard's signal boosting led to everyone hearing the status update.
"Oh no…" Aero began, wheeling around from her defensive position toward Vult and Vard. " We have to help them!"
"We have a mission to complete, Aero." Vult returned.
"Mission? What about the Captain and the others?"
"Let me worry about them. You worry about anyone getting too close to us. Eyes forward."
"But-"
"No buts, First Sergeant. Perimeter security. Now."
"Boss, Deadeye," Kazak spoke up, "let Spike and I come get the explosives for the pylons to handle this objective. Let the other teams handle the Captain's objectives."
"Mission's yours, Deadeye. Bolt, maintain overwatch and keep us posted. Standby." Vult mitigated, looking to Vard. "General Vaukt, ASAP."
"Yes, Sir." The communications specialist hurriedly adjusted their receiver, settling on their immediate superior's frequency. "Locked in, transmit, Sir."
"Penumbra, Red-1, how copy?"
"Reading you, Commander, go ahead."
"I have been informed that Purple Team is combat ineffective, Sir." Vult started off with, checking his hastily jotted notes. "My second's comms are damaged and he is without a primary weapon. Two are MIA. Both medics are occupied with a casualty. Their shuttle was engaged prior to insertion and presumably crash-landed..."
He paused, unsure of how to word it or proceed accordingly over open communications channels.
"Purple Team's objectives are vital to the success of the operation, Sir. Requesting permission to abandon current objectives and regroup with Purple to complete their objectives, over."
"Reading you, Commander. I have other teams nearby that can assist in taking some of the slack off Purple's objectives. However, your objective of the pylons has no coverage. Can you still complete?"
Vult bit his tongue before firing back about where he could stick those pylons given what had transpired. Thankfully, better judgement won out and diplomacy returned to cooler heads.
"...Yes, Sir, we can still complete our initial objective." He begrudgingly admitted.
"Well, Commander, you're the one in the field. I'll leave it to you how best to determine how to go about it. So long as those pylons are rigged to blow, you may proceed as you deem fit."
The Commander grit his teeth momentarily before speaking again.
"Yes, Sir. Red-1 Out." Vult concluded, motioning to Vard to sever their channel and switch back. "Red-1, Bolt, copy?"
Kazak and Gers made their way down to the perimeter as that message went out, Kazak nodding to Vult.
"Bolt reads you."
"Red Team is unable to reinforce Purple until our objectives are complete. I am putting my faith in you two. Keep my men safe until I can get there."
"Understood, sir. We'll give it everything we got and then some. Smoke, Cobalt, weapons free if they're threatened."
By then, Vult handed the receiver back to Vard and removed his helmet. The blue-eyed team leader rubbed at his temples in exasperation with tired eyes closed. What to do, what to do…
"So that's it then? We're just going to...pretend they're fine and do what we were doing?" Aero queried of her superior.
"Aero-" Vard attempted, only to be cut off by the tall female.
"Don't you "Aero" me! Those are our friends!"
"You think I don't know that?!" Vult snapped at her, much to her surprise. A sigh of realization followed. "...look...we have a job to do. Once it's done, then we can help them."
"What if it's too late then?"
"I have no more control over that than you do, Aero." Vult countered, running a tired hand of exasperation down his features.
"Boss," Kazak spoke up, "give me the explosives for those pylons. You want Gers to prove his worth? We can do this, all three pylons."
Something else to consider on top of this mountain of decisions to be made under pressure with time fleeting fast. So much could go so wrong on both sides if all the proverbial eggs were placed in singular baskets. The cold, calculated choice was to continue as-planned, then aid afterwards...but even through Aero's high emotions, she had a valid point. Corr and the others were on borrowed time as it were.
While Vult contemplated all of this, Sula had been making a bit of a racket. Her rifle and ammunition were summarily disposed of...as was her food...and water...and everything that was not a piece of medical equipment by the appearance of things in the pile she was created.
"Medical Officer, what are you doing?"
"My job, Sir." She sounded off, rather assertive compared to usual. A new development since her conversation with Kazak.
"Your job is with Red Team."
"My job is to keep all of you alive, Sir."
"I need you here, Sula. Not there."
"I wasn't asking." The normally timid woman concluded, securing her pack and tightening everything down once more. "They need me more than you do here."
"What the heck has gotten into you guys?" Vard nearly pleaded.
"The same thing that the Empire tried to remove: Compassion." Sula summarized.
Vult was not much for games or patience as he glared intensely at the medic. "Put your gear back on and stand by, Medical Officer. That is an order."
"Punish me when we get back to the ship, Sir. Good luck." Sula concluded before throwing her pack on and taking off in a sprint for the direction Corr and the others had crashed in.
"SULA!" Vult called after her with a growl.
His attempts fell on deaf antennae. She was committed for the sake of her allies. Her HUD provided enough navigational information to see her through...so long as her cloak didn't fail and she could sneak past whatever lay between them.
He wheeled back around to Kazak.
"Well, now I need your help. Sooner we get this done, sooner we can help Corr and the others. Either end of this operation fails, the offensive is going to get stalled out and mulched by the VDF."
"Yeah. I know Vaukt can take a lot of the slack off the AA but," Kazak stopped to take a breath, "Look, I know you probably don't want to put your bets on us, but that's the best choice. Sula's probably going to run into some VDF troop and get herself killed without an escort."
"More I don't want to shove our responsibilities off on you and your guys." Vult reasoned in exasperation. "I will deal with Sula later. Now is not the time. Pylons first. Pains me and I am biased, but bigger picture. Not just my team or you…"
A statement that held multiple meanings. Their current tasks at hand and what Vult and the others were to lead in the coming days. Something Kazak was beyond aware of.
The sniper sighed. "Fine, if you're insistent on this course of action. I'll take one pylon, Gers another, you guys take the central pylon."
"Works for me. Sooner it's seen through, sooner our forces can begin advancing. That will take attention off of the crash site and permit us to reinforce." The Commander reasoned, looking to his spread out team. "Pack it up and get ready to move. Spread Sula's kit out between all of you. No trace left behind."
"So we're going to go help the others?" Aero queried, hopeful.
"After we take care of our pylon, yes. Kazak and his team will take the others for us."
"Yessssss…." She hissed with a grin. "Let's go blow it up!"
"Hesa, toss us the spare explosives for the other two pylons and we'll get going. Spike, how's your solo run feeling?"
"It's somethin', Deadeye."
"Yeah, well, you ain't seen nothing yet with these guys."
Corr meanwhile, was debating what to do about his two lost team members. "Damn it, I'm down two. I can't hold this site without a rifle and just one man."
"Reaper, let me go find those two," a Vortian with a sword on his waist stood up, "I'll get them back here even if it kills me."
"Nomad, I-"
"This place is going to be crawling with regs in minutes. If SIS is there and they catch us, we're all fucked. Rub, Gantas, Reeshara, all of us. Besides, I won't get caught."
Tha sighed, "All right, fine. Anyone got a spare rifle for Corr?"
Luna, a Petty Officer on the team, walked over to Corr holding out an old mass driven bolt action rifle, scoped and in a military stock styling, along with a bandolier of clips. "Sorry, rare pickings these days."
Corr took the rifle and bandolier as he watched Nomad leave the restaurant in a cloak mode. "Thanks. It'll do. Rha, find a defensive position...I hate to say it but it's going to be two of us against the entire damn VDF left in Tallum."
Rha's gaze darted between Corr and the gathered team of Vortian special forces before gesturing to them.
"What about them? Aren't they going to help us?"
"Does he know?" Tha looked at Corr, seeing him shake his head. "Okay, let me spell it out for you real simple. Intelligence guys see us, all of us are dead, and I don't just mean my guys either."
It took a great deal of restraint not to verbally lash their supposed allies amidst all of this chaos. Rather, he turned his frustrations back to Corr in the form of dark humor.
"Whole VDF, huh? Sounds like a fair fight to me then." He masked his apprehension with a chuckle. "Just need to hold our ground long enough until the rest of the team gets here, right?"
"That's the plan...just the two of us, three snipers, and hopefully the Lieutenant and Haxx once they get back. Be nicer to have Vortian help, but the last thing they need to have is their Internal Affairs types seeing them turning traitor." Corr's attention turned back to Tha, "So what was so important that we needed to come out here?"
Tha withdrew a data drive from a pouch and held it out for Corr. "Intel Gantas was able to dig up on SIS without raising too many alarms. Including information on those augmented fucks you've probably run into. Also have coordinates for a prototype suit on it in a dead drop. Gantas said that's for Kiara, he said you'd know what that means."
"Wait," Corr looked at her, "you sure your team wasn't shadowed?"
"Absolutely, why?"
Corr rubbed his face, wiping blood from the various cuts on his jacket. "You know I have to wonder if maybe this was a trap for both of us. That some within the Federation don't want us working together."
"Y'know...I missed it when all I had to worry about was not getting shot by anyone that wasn't Irken." Rha commented with a huff. "Things were so much simpler then...so what's the plan then? That guy gonna go find Haxx and the Lieutenant while we hole up here? Either way, I'm gonna go start planting proximity mines and remote charges. Just tell me where to be after that, Sir."
Tha huffed. "Damn it. Luna, Sarge, you both got your demo charges and proximity mines?"
"Yes, Major," the GPMG wielding seated man responded, "Still got Chief's mines on me."
"Demo's packed as always, ma'am." Luna answered.
"Okay, this is entirely voluntary, not an order. Help Rha here. Plant those demo charges, plant the mines, give him the detonator. Otherwise give them to him."
The two of them looked between each other briefly before Luna walked to the windows, looking outside before turning to Rha, "I'm going to rig those two buildings across the plaza to come down and block that approach. It'll block infantry from coming through and any tanks and walkers they have around here."
"Shit," Zok rose from his seat, "All right, I guess I'll mine the alleyways on this side of the street."
Rha was taken back somewhat by their offer to assist. So much so he stopped to turn to face them both and bring a hand up to retract his visor and mask. His face, unveiled, with the gnarled scar from ID1 visible for all to see across it between his eyes.
"Wait...you're going to help me...set charges...to impede and kill your people? Not that I take any enjoyment in it, just...y'know...I like living...but you don't have to do this."
"You alone? You're probably only going to set a quarter of your charges before they come crashing down on you. You need the help." Luna answered.
"We're on the same team, Rha," Tha spoke up from her seat, "If SIS wasn't in play and the others weren't at risk I'd be right out there with you. Last thing I want right now are my cousins getting a couple plasma bolts in the back of the head from those black clad fucks. One of them is lucky SIS doesn't know he's already killed some of their operatives, crazy bastard."
Zok went into the kitchen, going to mine the alley. Corr looked to Rha as he stashed the data drive from Tha. "May not be the simple life from before, Rha, but I like having these guys not shooting at us for a change."
"Hey, I won't complain. Better than nothing, I suppose." Rha reasoned before sealing his helmet back up. "Oh, and Captain, might wanna check on what's going on in the cockpit. At least one of us needs to know what is up in clear detail." He concluded before procuring the explosive ordnance necessary to lay traps and deny any encroaching VDF access to the plaza if need be.
Corr nodded to Tha before walking out the front door and making his way across the street, slinging his acquired rifle across his back. Rather than climbing up the mess of a shuttle to get in, he ignited one of his plasma blades to cut a hole into the passenger cabin before stepping inside and activating his helmet lamp. "Zutel? Posa?"
While there had been some improvement since initially addressing Rem's horrendous wounds, they were far from tended to fully. Both medics, now dressed with proper surgical gloves, were covered in Rem's blood. The life-threatening hemorrhaging had been stemmed, but Rem looked a sickly, pale green on top of her grisly appearance.
"Captain? Thank goodness you're alive," Zutel replied, keeping her hands and eyes otherwise entirely occupied with Rem. "You and the others okay?"
"We'll find out about Haxx and Volx in due time. Rha's on the move. My face is cut up but otherwise fine." The Captain made his way into the cockpit and saw the extent of Rem's injuries. "She's still alive?"
"Yes, sir, low pulse but she has one. We've been busy stabilizing her. Once she's stable, we're going to amputate so we can move her."
"She's lost a lot of blood, Sir." Posa added, monitoring her vitals. "Even if we stabilize her, she needs a transfusion. We've only got so much saline and her PAK isn't going to replace what was lost quick enough by the time it runs out….I...I don't even know how she's alive."
"You have no blood on you at all?" Corr asked.
"One bag," Zutel answered, "the other one's a mess, broke on landing."
"Even if we gave it to her now, it'd be a waste." Posa reasoned, turning her head lamp toward the floor at his feet. A pool a half-inch deep where he stood was gathering. "Still plugging the major holes and hoping she has enough energy left so the PAK will take over the healing process. May as well open it and dump it out on the deck instead of trying to feed it into an IV right now."
Corr nodded, "I'm trusting you both to take care of her."
"She's a fighter, sir, I'll give her that." Zutel said. "We'll keep doing our best."
Posa adjusted her posture to alleviate the discomfort of her cracked ribs as she busied herself with sterilizing and wound packing. "...may have to take turns giving her blood, Ma'am. Saline's only going to go so far. Just have to keep her alive long enough for her PAK to mend, yeah?"
"That and for her to get out of here, we'll cross that bridge shortly, Posa."
"Whole river's worth of bridges to cross, Ma'am…" She sighed. "Soon as I'm done with her eye sockets, I'll get the IV kit and bags ready..."
The Captain made his way out of the shuttle and to the wall of the building next to their wreck. He leaned back against it and slid down to the ground until he was seated on the sidewalk. One hand came up to his face, covering his eyes. This was an absolute mess...a total mess and his decision to change LZs was the cause of it.
What Corr, or anyone else for that matter, hadn't seen was the cloaked figure on top of a roof nearby, looking at this flurry of activity. Though, the departure of one of his own in the direction of the initial missile impact did draw his attention. He opted to follow, rather than continue to observe further. The VDF could handle this small lot, surely.