"So just who are these guys?" Corr asked Tha, "Silver armor trim, know anything about it?"
"That's the first squad of Ghost Scribe's non augmented troopers. They use color to differentiate their teams, numbers painted on the back of their helmets. Basic identifiers in case their HUDs ever fail."
"Two dead. That leaves?"
"Ten left. Right now I'm guessing those guys have either stopped the rest of them from crashing in because they intend to attack themselves or that dumbass there thought he could come in by stealth and take you all out one by one."
Off in the distance near the central citadel of Tallum, a series of lights rose into the sky. They grew greater in number and expanded as they rose. Their source became apparent as the distant roar of spacecraft engines at full-thrust reached them. The patterns of lights as they grew closer detailed the scope of craft themselves. These were not mere shuttles or corvettes, but massive civilian transports, freighters, and a myriad of remaining military craft.
The sheer volume and scope of this apparent exodus shook the very ground beneath their feet. Stone crumbled, concrete fractured, and steel groaned beneath the ships on the ground. One of many reasons why these titans of space were prohibited from venturing in-atmosphere, let alone over major population centers. What windows that weren't already ruined saw themselves cracked or shattered entirely.
The exodus convoy flew low and fast, intent on escaping the Imperial noose about their necks tightening fast. Their flight path placed them nearly atop the raging defense of the crash site. Even in the dead of night with the only sources of illumination that of the raging fires wrought from battle, the sheer size of the ships in close proximity was overwhelming. Hundreds of meters bordering on kilometers-long in some cases. Longer than entire city blocks, weightless as the air about them.
A truly awe-inspiring sight rarely witnessed first hand. So much so that the VDF all but ceased engaging them, if only briefly, as they watched the majority of remaining Vortians within Tallum take to the stars in a grandiose display of defiance to their Irken aggressors. The homeworld of Vort was being ceded in favor of living to fight another day. To continue resisting the atrocities forced upon them by the Empire. One last morale victory to spite them.
"Overlord to Taskmaster, you know what to do."
"I'm aware, sir." The Operations Chief of Ghost Scribe replied as the ships kept flying. He had a different plan, to see if he could make it rain on the Irken.
"Taskmaster, they're almost out of radio range."
"I'm aware, sir."
"The Director will be most displeased if you fail here."
"He won't be." Figuring his calculations were spot on, he hit a button.
As the final civilian liner passed overhead, gaining altitude and speed to leave Vort's atmosphere, a massive flash of light illuminated the night sky briefly. So bright any watching on with low-light amplification needed to look away as for a split second, day appeared. Only when their sensitive eyes returned to its source did the horror set in.
The primary thruster of the gargantuan vessel simply ceased to be. Secondary explosions were visible, but the shockwave from the initial rushed through the streets and across the ground, kicking up dust and debris into a maelstrom. A half-second later, the deafening, thunderous roar of an explosion blew out any remaining windows for kilometers. Anyone unfortunately close to them suffered lacerations aplenty as a result.
The vessel, now compromised, lacked the velocity to escape Vort's gravity well and the continued thrust to oppose it. The ship's bow dipped back towards the ground and plummeted from the sky. A multitude of smaller lights began to streak from port and starboard at irregular intervals. The trails of jettisoned escape pods likely. Too few to leave much in the way of optimsm on such short notice.
A realization shared by many of the remaining VDF defenders as some lamented and wailed what was transpiring before their very eyes and powerless to do anything about it. They were still within the barrier's protection, weren't they? The Irken couldn't have delivered an orbital strike so quickly with that level of accuracy, could they?
"What the fuck?!" Tha yelled as she looked up at the massive explosion's aftermath. Debris consisting of a mix of body parts, personal goods, chunks of the ship, and fire started raining down on the troops below as the ship still managed to linger forward. The estimated explosives placement was just slightly off, though SIS' goal was still accomplished. The falling ship sailed at a downward angle for another few kliks before slamming into the ground, its remnants violently exploding. The shockwave shattered any remaining glass in a large area around them, including at the crash site. The exterior streets now a mix of rubble, broken glass, debris, limbs, and the splattering of falling Vortians as they slammed into a hard surface at high speeds.
"Major, I think that was the ship carrying the Parliament."
"You sure, Luna?"
"Positive."
Volx, having turned away the moment she saw the initial explosion, and shielded herself was largely spared from the ensuing fallout of the blast. A few more scuffs and scrapes across a myriad of other defects in her suit. Her overcoat's tail shredded from the shockwave and debris it picked up, tearing through the compromised fabric with ease not unlike the conditions of the surface of Haven all those months ago.
"Sound off!" She called out into her radio. "One up!"
Rha, picking himself up with a fresh dusting of glass and stone shrapnel embedded in his armor, coughed. "Two up!"
"Three up!" Posa responded, her fellow medics following suit.
"Four up!"
"Five up!" Zutel was the last of them to answer, "Six is still fighting!"
"Seven.." Haxx was cut off by some coughing as he spat out more blood, "Seven up, all good."
Corr heaved a sigh of relief. "Good to hear all of you are all right. Snipers?"
"Bolt here, all good."
"Smoke in the green."
"Cobalt covered in glass but otherwise green."
"What was that?" Posa queried, finishing off filling another blood bag. Likely the last for some time at the risk of passing out herself.
"A stroke of bad luck, it seems." Volx observed, looking on in the distance at the roiling inferno and secondaries still going off at the massive vessel's tragic fall back to the ground. "Passenger liner suffered engine failure attempting to take off and crashed. Nothing we can do about it here and have our own problems to attend to. Soon as they're over their grief, they're going to take it out on us. Dust yourselves off and stand by."
"I have to wonder if that was an engine failure," Tha said to herself as she worked to brush herself off. "Nomad, Sarge, Luna, you guys still with us?"
"Sarge here, all good, here with Rha."
"Luna here, nearly caught a falling chunk of engine but I'm all right."
"Nomad solid, ma'am."
"Standby for further word. The chief said he'd contact us on our next move with this evacuation."
Haxx readied himself as he prepared for the oncoming onslaught, making his way back to Volx's position on the restaurant roof and perched his bipod on the ledge. He heard what sounded like a woman screaming, growing louder...and louder. He looked up with his night vision, seeing a Vortian woman falling, alive, and somehow having regained consciousness only for a horrific final view before she slammed into the ground and effectively splattered. He may have been used to seeing death, but something caused him to recoil as he looked away and expelled a mixture of his spooch contents and some blood.
Volx heard the distant scream fast approaching. Female...but from where? Just as her mind clicked onto the possible source, she looked up to see a thermal signature plummeting, witnessing its last hundred feet or so, and that same body-shaped signature impacting the ground. The scream instantly ceased as the signature flattened outward into a high-speed splatter across the pavement. An odd feeling watching a graphic death happen before her very eyes behind the filter of thermal imaging. The only saving grace from watching a living creature become a several meter-wide mess of flesh and sinew. That didn't stop the awful sound from reaching her antenna though. At least it was quick.
Rather than dwell on that grisly reminder just outside of her defended position, she cued her radio.
"Posa, Zutel, Sula. Sitrep on Rem. Situation's degrading by the minute out here."
By then, the recently-arrived Sula had recovered to the point of coherency. Far from top form, but well enough to work competently and focus with the aid of the saline infusion and injection, she had migrated to the cockpit-turned-operating room.
"Long or short version, Ma'am?" Sula queried, her medical shears slicing through torn and stained fabric of Rem's uniform.
"The "tell me if she is going to make it or do we need to cut our losses" version, Medical Officer."
"I'm not abandoning her, Lieutenant."
"That is for me to decide."
Sula laughed much to her surprise over the radio.
"Yeah? Guess I'm dying with her then if that's the case, Ma'am." She definitely spoke with her newfound assertiveness. "...far as what you're wanting to know...stand by and I will tell you."
Sula glanced to Zutel and Posa as she worked, carefully peeling back Rem's uniform, exposing her torso entirely. The lacerations and contusions aplenty were minor in comparison to her other grievous injuries.
"You've TQ'd her arm...packed the wounds…" She observed, poking and prodding around on the Navigator's body.
"Yes, Ma'am. Stopped the massive bleeds first, worked on secondaries." Posa nodded, watching the more-experienced medic in her element with morbid curiosity.
Sula pressed near the base of the ribcage, immediately retracting with a twisting of her features into an expression of disdain mixed with pursed frustration. Her right hand shot out, upturned to Posa.
"Scalpel." She snapped her fingers insistently. "Now, let's go."
"R-right, sorry." Her junior fumbled about in their combined gear, finding the tool requested, handing it to Sula. "Scalpel."
"Light, there." She pointed to the bottom of Rem's ribcage.
Waiting until she had the necessary illumination, the Medical Officer meticulously applied a steady hand. Enough pressure to cut skin and flesh, but not push harder than necessary on the affected area.
The incision went past the layers of skin and beyond into muscle tissue. Blood trailed from the leading edge of the cut. Very little compared to normal for obvious reasons, but the moment the tip of the scalpel pushed past the layers of muscle into what would have been the thoracic cavity, a torrent of blood flowed down the Navigator's side like a bursting dam. Thick, dark, deoxygenated blood. Sula sneered, tossing the scalpel across the cockpit with a clang against metallic surfaces.
"You amatuers…" She muttered. "Internal bleeding!? Really?! No wonder pressure and oxygen level keeps dropping! How long has she been like this?!"
"I-I don't know! Since the crash?" Posa winced at Sula's harsh observations. "She was messed up! We jumped on what we saw first!"
Sula snatched Posa by the wrist, dragging her forward to place her palm against Rem's side.
"Yeah, feel right there and tell me what you feel. Tell me!"
Posa swallowed, the realization cutting through her.
"...b-broken ribs."
"Yeah, broken ribs." She pushed the younger medic back. "Broken ribs impaling her spooch. Broken ribs causing massive internal hemorrhaging. No wonder you're running out of blood bags and saline!"
Sula shook her head, getting back on the radio.
"Purple-2, Red-6."
"Purple-2 reads, go ahead."
"...I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"
"Sula."
"Okay, bad news first then." She opened, regaining her composure. "...Rem is worse off than what these two have been telling you."
"How worse?"
"Punctured spooch and massive internal hemorrhaging worse, Ma'am."
The veteran surgeon slammed her head into a forearm. Did the crash jarr her that badly? No, they were going to check on that. Sula just accelerated the timetable.
"Sula, talk to me," Corr joined in on the conversation, "what's the good news?"
The Medical Officer took a few solid seconds to maintain composure once more. The absolute frustration she felt towards these two was threatening to override better judgement. They were working under stress, but she was all the same. They were not as field experienced as her, but all of them had similar levels of medical training. She couldn't simply write that off, especially with someone close to her fighting for their life.
"...the good news...is these two plugged most of the holes so her PAK has kept her alive this long...but I need to do emergency surgery." She began, mentally plotting out her approach with the current level of knowledge.
"We do not have the time or resources for that, Sula." Volx expressed.
"You suggest we leave Rem here to die then?"
"If it means saving the rest of us, including you, yes, absolutely." Volx did not hesitate in her response. "This is not an easy choice to make, but one needs to be made. They will overrun us if we remain here."
"She's right," Corr added, "If we remain here...Sula, there's companies of Vortians surrounding us, they have tanks. We're outnumbered and outgunned."
Sula listened, as did Posa and Zutel. She looked between her two medical counterparts as Corr explained how dire their situation was.
"Well?" She queried them. "You going to let them tell you to abandon your patient? You barely know her. You're unbiased. What are you going to do?"
Posa, already racked with shame over not figuring out Rem's condition and main source of suffering sooner, straightened up.
"I'm not going anywhere, Ma'am. Rem's fought to live this long. She wouldn't be dying from her wounds. We would be murdering her if we gave up now."
"Okay, that's two in favor." Sula summarized, looking to Zutel. "What about you? I'm going to crack her open, drain her body, reset her ribs, and fix her spooch. Only way she's going to hold blood and be stable for transport. You in or not?"
"Sula, I'm an experienced surgeon, I swore to General Vaukt I'd serve you with the same dedication I have him. I refuse to abandon her, not after all this. I'm all in." Zutel answered with a nod.
"Then it's settled." She summarized, motioning to Rem. "Get her prepped while I deal with them."
"Sula." Volx's patience was at its limits.
"Yes, I'm here. Little busy." She opened with, debating on being cordial and diplomatic about it or not. "I am going to do my job. These two are going to do their job. We're not leaving. Simple as. Rem wouldn't leave any of us behind. I'm not leaving her. Leave us if you must."
The Lieutenant slammed her fist into the wall near her with a growl.
"Damn it, we are surrounded. What part of that did you not hear?!"
"The part where you plan on abandoning our pilot and friend. She dies, I'm going with her...if we're going to keep going back and forth on this, I'm turning my radio off. I need to concentrate."
Corr looked around, all sense told him to abandon this position and move somewhere more defensible. Much as it would've pained him to lose Rem, the rest of the squad's survival was a priority. This? This complicated matters. All three medics were intent on seeing this through and having all three taken prisoner at best or executed at worst was the last thing the team needed on top of losing Rem. "Lieutenant, if you want to leave, leave. The rest of you, dig in. We're going to have to cover these three even if it kills us."
Tha looked at him, "You're serious?"
"Absolutely."
"Heh, you Irken have some serious dedication, I'll give you that."
"Trust me, in this case, it's just my team."
"Captain, with all due respect-" Volx attempted, only to be walked on by Rha.
"No. I'm with him on this one, Ma'am. The Commander would do the same for any of us as well. We waited for him to come back when he went missing."
"We didn't have a literal army bearing down on us, Rha."
"Point remains, Lieutenant. Family doesn't abandon family, right?"
"Not to interrupt this touching moment...but there is one more small complication to this." Sula interjected. "We commit to surgery, she's going to need more blood and there are no donors left down here. These two are about to pass out and I'm dehydrated."
Haxx remained quiet for a moment, mulling things over. Volx wanted to leave, but Corr wanted to stay. The medics were all staying. Rha decided to stay. Every wise move said to cut and run. Though Rha was right. Family doesn't abandon family. Surprising how he came so close to shooting Tuu back on Haven with a sentiment like that. He rose to his feet, leaving his machine gun behind and dropping his ammunition for it as well as he started down the stairs. "Sula, I'm coming down there. She's more important right now."
"Sergeant, your ribs," Corr intervened, only to be cut off by Haxx before finishing his point.
"Fuck my ribs. Also, still, fuck you for putting us here. If this is what we're dealt, I'm going to help Rem. Besides, my thick head is sure to contain gallons upon gallons, right?" He lightly jabbed at his own expense.
"Haxx, you stay up there on that gun. That's an order." Volx commanded. "They push again, we need the base of fire."
She paused, groaning in agitation as she bounced her helmeted head off the wall a few times.
"...Sula, how long can Rem hold out before surgery?"
"Honestly? I'll be surprised if she makes it past the hour." She admitted. "Not banking on it, but alleviating the pressure off of her spooch has seen a small improvement in vitals. Dangerously low level of blood though."
"Can you keep her alive until Red Team gets here?"
"That depends on how long they take, Ma'am."
"Within the hour?"
"Unless she takes a sudden turn for the worse, yes." Sula summarized after casting a glance at the pilot in peril. "...I can turn that into a definitive "yes" but you won't like it."
"I don't like this entire situation, Sula."
"Fair enough...but while Zutel and I start working on Rem...Posa can take blood bags to you and fill them to bring back."
"Meaning she'll have to brave the plaza multiple times to get to us." Volx cut to the heart of the matter.
"I said you wouldn't like it."
"Not much of a choice otherwise." Volx sighed.
"Not unless you want a crash course in how to work a machine gun, Volx." Haxx looked up to her from the ground level. "I'm going to do this either way, so what's it going to be?"
Posa felt it necessary to chime in at the growing tensions.
"I'll do it."
"Do what?" Sula sought clarification.
"The blood bag run thing. I'll do it. It's that or she dies, right?"
"...its not looking good, so yeah. That's what's at stake."
"Keeps them in their positions and Rem gets blood. Win-win."
"Even if you're under constant fire running back and forth?"
"There's still Red Team...and if I go down, that's a good sign things aren't going to get any better, right?" Posa reasoned morbidly as she prepared one of her smaller bags with empty bags and IVs to draw blood.
"One way of looking at it." Sula observed, doing a bit of mental calculation before speaking again. "...if the Commander and the others arrive sooner rather than later, you should only have to do this once."
"I'll do it as many times as needed if it means she'll make it and this wasn't all for naught."
Sula nodded. "Might want to get going before the VDF comes at us again...and sorry. For earlier."
"Don't be. We messed up and she could've died. That's on us. You're here and she'll pull through." Posa acknowledged, remaining hopeful. "I'll be back."
"Purple-1, Red-6, be advised. Posa's leaving the shuttle and is going to make her rounds. One unit from each of you will buy us enough time until the others get here. More would be great but don't overdo it. Giving blood makes you weak, too much you pass out, over."
"Understood, Six, glad to help how we can."
"Roof of the restaurant, Posa," Haxx called out to Posa, "Move it and I'll be waiting. I'll even give you two." He made his way back up to the roof and to his waiting gun, strapping on his ammo once more as he waited for the medic.
"Bolt to Purple Lead, Commander's ETA on completing objective is five minutes. Been advised from Deadeye they will be acquiring VDF transport."
"Well, that's some good news," Tha leaned back only to get a ping on Ohnmatu's primary channel and switched over to it. "Reaper here."
"Reaper, initiate burnout." It was Gantas.
"Sir, the situation's changed."
"How?"
"We're...kind of surrounded by our own troops."
"So you're the cause of all that trouble?"
"Something like that, our friends are."
"Very well...voluntary basis, help them however you can. I've given all teams weapons free authority as far as SIS goes. I'll leave it to your discretion as to how to handle your situation."
"Yes, sir. Anything else?"
"Just get out alive, Reaper. That's all."
"Understood, sir, Reaper out." She swapped back to the shared channel. "Sarge, take that tear gas launcher. I'm giving you authority to fire on VDF on a non lethal level. The rest of you, if SIS turns up, weapons free. Let's help our friends make it through this and get home, then we get out of here."
Things however seemed...quiet, too quiet. The counter-attack should've come. As Posa made her first run out of the shuttle and towards Haxx and Volx in the restaurant, Tha scrolled through various comms channels she had access to as a result of various operations.
"Well...this is something."
"What?" Corr looked at her.
"You may want to take a listen." Tha turned a speaker on to allow Corr to eavesdrop on the conversation.