Loorvu, its capital city of New Tallum served as the seat of government for what was once a sleepier Vortian colony world. Mostly an agricultural focus with some industrial capacity. Once Praxxus fell and Vort was under siege, Loorvu was evacuated. Anything harvested was harvested, factory machinery packed up and moved, any foodstuff that couldn't be moved burned to deny the Irken when they inevitably came for the colony. Only a couple dozen Vortians remained on the planet: farmers who refused to leave their homes and a number of police officers within New Tallum itself. The only Federation resistance on this planet wasn't even worth mentioning if the Empire attacked.
Krad's shuttle landed in the abandoned industrial sector of town under cover of night, quickly sabotaged as the Sergeant Major went into the wind. He eliminated every tracker, or so he thought. There was one on the exterior hull, one he couldn't get to, not without an EVA suit and he didn't have one of those. The tracker led Mirage right to him.
The General Krad touched down within a sporting arena in the suburbs outside of New Tallum and Mirage made their way in on foot. A general perimeter went up to find Krad, once found, the team converged and tracked him, setting up a perfect ambush, but not springing it yet. Who was hunted had since become the bait.
Despite Sor's insistence they took the traitor then and there, Tuu's cunning proved in the end. Rather than net a single man and continue chasing their c'hurtas, allow him to be bait. They had his location under constant watch all hours of the day. For days they lay in wait, mapping the surrounding city blocks out, closing off avenues of escape, and finding the best angles with line-of-sight.
All that remained was patience in the waiting game. Krad was on-the-run, alone, and desperate to seek aid from allies. That desperation would predictably lead them to other members of this movement who turned their backs on the Empire.
By the Tallest, Tuu's intuition paid off. Just as Sublieutenant Sor was to pull the plug on the operation, in-system activity increased exponentially. Abnormal readings but a change from background normalcy. Likely stealth or masked craft. The very same utilized by the likes of them.
On alert, all hands, and the intelligence gathered in the days leading up came into play. Pas, one of the replacements to Mirage fresh from Devastis and communications specialist picked up communications traffic. Krad, in his infinite wisdom, failed to scramble and left existing methods in place. A simple mistake with grave consequences.
Tucked away in her prepared position, directional microphone trained on the figures some distance away, she clicked her transmit switch.
"Black-1, Black-4."
"Black-1 copies."
"Movement, foot traffic, range…220 meters heading 332 my position, establishing remote listening now, standby…"
Not far from Krad's position came the Ghost of Irk, setting down right in the middle of an open field not far from their ambush location. A quick conversation with Vortian police on the part of Kiara and the others of Ohnmatu saw them quickly calm down, though bewildered seeing Irken working alongside their own people. The team approached, all unknowing of the threat that lay in wait.
"Ghost, Black-3," Kliz, one Black team's newest members, flipped the safety off of her grenade launcher. "Targets confirmed, the rogue Sergeant Major and Shadow Strikers alongside Vortians. Permission to fire."
"Krad, you son of a bitch!" Amka, evident in his own armor from Mirage called out to him, insignia still present though a red line struck through the Empire's insignia, a look popularized by Vaukt. "Get over here!"
"Black-3, hold." Tuu calmly issued from behind his scope, transitioning his rifle to Pas's given directions. "Black-2, status?"
Candor, Black Team's new second, aimed down the sights of his laser rifle, targeting one of the Shadow Strikers, from within the open doorway in a stripmall. "Black-2, in position, waiting for your word, sir. Looks like their whole team is here."
"Black-1 copies. All teams, safeties off and standby. Hold on my mark."
Communications temporarily paused, Tuu nestled his rifle tight, making final physical adjustments before bearing down on his stock. His crosshairs tracked to the described position, visually confirming Krad and Amkha. A sneer of contempt briefly tightened his features before regaining his composure. A flick of his thumb disengaged the safety, taking aim at Krad, and steadily applied pressure with a clean, even pull of the trigger. The rifle bucked, a thunderous report shattering the still air, and sent its lethal payload forth.
"Good to see you too, Major," Krad began walking, the marksman laying in wait took aim. A misjudging of a parking barrier saw Krad trip. Twisting as he fell forward with a slight spin. Where center mass had once been still found a target. A hot bolt of sniper rifle plasma tore straight through Krad's left armpit and out of his shoulder. His arm fell separately from him as the man cushioned his fall with his one remaining arm.
"Ikveda muro," Tuu hissed under his breath at Krad not falling dead, quickly opening comms. "Weapons free, engage!"
"Sniper!" Vara yelled out as she, Jur, Dorum, and Kiara activated their cloak modes and scrambled for cover. A light show of laser beams and plasma bolts danced across their previous positions from a half dozen different directions as everyone scattered for cover. Candor found himself face to face with Orkos running through the door of the nearby shop. The First Sergeant found himself in a melee fight with the Sublieutenant.
Just as Vult was to chastise Amka's bravado in calling out to Krad, the crack of the high-power rifle and witnessing their would-be rescuee sent to the ground with a mutilated arm. Instinct and training kicked in as everyone scrambled for cover as the following seconds saw a torrent of suppressive fire dump on their position from prepared locations. Cloaks, shared technologies, and quick-thinking thankfully kept any others from a similar grisly affair.
Taking refuge behind a concrete barrier, any attempt the Commander made to get a look at their attackers was met with increased persistence chipping away at the reinforced stone. Rifle clutched tight to his chest, deep breaths. Evaluate.
"No visual, someone talk to me!" He called out. "Look high, long sight lines! Weapons free, return the favor!"
Hesa, next to him, propped her GPMG up on the barrier and began pouring fire back towards various sources of laser beams. At another barrier, Zop's laser GPMG fired a heavy beam of laser in several directions. The man raked it across several windows for suppression. All was going well until a high explosive grenade exploded in front of him. The thump of the launcher only now reached them as Kliz's grenade struck. The man dropped his machine gun, falling back behind the barrier as he grabbed a horrifically bleeding arm. A piece of shrapnel tore his bicep and disabled his firing arm.
"Medic! Fuck! Help!"
Posa, nearest after the chaotic scramble for cover, saw Zop's condition. She made it all of two steps out of cover until a torrent of fire threatened to ventilate her as she fell, clawing her way back behind the stone wall.
"Yep, that's a whole lotta nope…Radec!"
"Little busy!" He called over the bursting chatter of his GPMG.
"Yeah, well make time! Zop's hit! I need cover!"
He glanced over, seeing the pooling, bright blood around the incapcitated man. Time was not a luxury he had. Swinging his field of fire around, he opened up longer, sustained bursts at any and all windows elevated above their position.
"Go!"
The medic took off in a sprint for Zop's position as rounds danced and impacted around her. Debris, dirt, and chunks of concrete speckling and skittering across her armor and uniform was never a fantastic feeling. Knowledge of them being too close for comfort. A mass-driven round slammed into her side mid-stride, sending her tumbling into Zop's pooling blood and across his lap in her own world of hurt.
"Ah…haha…fffff…" She seethed, struggling to visually inspect. His blood made it hard to tell if it was hers or not. "Okay…worry about that…later."
Fostering the mental fortitude necessary, she quickly went to render aid. Curb the bleeding, pack the wounds, prep for extraction.
Deris, curled up nearby behind a car after being separated from his rifle was thinking back to what Skrem taught him. Needed to get calm. Deep breath in for four seconds, hold for four, deep breath out for four. Repeat…back in the zone. He looked around, making a mad sprint under fire, sliding in beside Posa and Zop, looking over the two briefly before picking up Zop's machine gun and adding the laser machine gun's fire towards those ambushing them. He hadn't ever acted like this before.
In the shop, Aren watched the back door as Orkos pulled his knife out of Candor's neck, but not without receiving a combat knife in the gut himself in kind. He left it in lest he aggravate the injury. "Aren…need you to…stabilize this vibroblade."
Glancing over her shoulder, she worked her way backwards, maintaining cover on the door until she was next to Green Team's leader and lover.
"How bad is it?" She queried to-the-point. "Can you move?"
"I can but if I move this thing is going to move more and tear more of my gut open."
"Lost Lorlo and Deris in the scramble. Don't know where they are. Just you and me right now." Aren pointed out, weighing their options before throwing her rifle around to her back and tear into her medical supplies. "Watch my back, I'll do what I can."
"Yeah, I got the door." Orkos' attention turned towards the back door as Lor made her way inside to take the pressure off for Orkos on covering the door. "Aren't you supposed to be watching the flank?"
"Mined it. Tripwire, anyone comes across that corner they're going to get a body full of ball bearings." Lor replied as she kept her rifle trained on the door.
"Haven't even tried comms yet, but we need to regroup." Aren commented as she carefully went about wrapping Orkos' midsection to keep the embedded blade in place. "Lor, you got comms? My hands are tied up at the moment."
"Green Team, Charger, you reading?" Lor tried, only to shake her head. "Nothing, knowing our old unit they probably got us jammed."
"That's just fuckin' SWELL!" She commented in frustration. "Alright, old-fashioned way it is then. Once I'm done here, we need to move and reinforce the others within screaming range."
Krad, in the street, finally getting over his initial sensation of being shot, drew his assault rifle off his back as he rose to his feet, firing past his left side as he left his arm behind. More fire was needed. The Sergeant Major came to rest behind the same barrier where Amka, Vult, and Hesa had found themselves.
"This your idea of making sure you weren't tailed?!" Amka yelled at him as he poured rifle fire towards their unseen assailants.
"Didn't even know they were here!" Krad fired what was left in his cell before throwing the rifle aside and drawing his pistol with no means to reload.
Vult, rolling back into cover to exchange power cells, glared at the two of them. "You just assumed they wouldn't follow you?!"
"I disabled the trackers, damn it!" Krad growled as he fired a few pistol shots down range.
"Apparently not all of them!" The Commander scoffed, looking around their immediate area. "We can't hold here, they have elevation on us! Regroup, provide covering fire, and bound back to extraction! Amka?"
"Yeah, Commander?!" Amka yelled as he loaded a fresh cell into his rifle.
"Find our stragglers! Don't care how! Nobody's getting left behind! 4-man fireteams, bound and cover! We'll suppress on my mark! Hesa! Radec!"
"Yeah?! Little busy!" Hesa's barrel was already glowing with the amount of fire she was pouring.
"Standby to suppress!" He issued, throwing the appropriate hand signals over the din of battle for Radec to see as he confirmed in kind. "On my mark! Three, two, one, mark!"
The organized resistance of fighting off their back foot provided Akma with a base of fire to move relatively unopposed. The situation, while dire, had at least stabilized. They weren't taking massive casualties or being overrun. Yet.
Amka moved towards the stripmall nearby, finding much of the team nearby. The suppression from the team was aided by the crack of Vortian mass drivers as Vara and Jur finally found a position to provide accurate sniper fire from a more concealed position. Took them long enough.
"Guys! All of you!" He got the attention of the assemblage of a good chunk of Green and most of Purple, "Back to the ship! Now! Teams of four!" As Aren and Orkos headed back first with the others being wounded, Amka's attention turned to Haxx. "Haxx, you got the fancy armor! On me, we're going to find the other stragglers and get the fuck out of here!"
Lorlo was behind a vehicle not far from where Deris previously was, the technician doing his best to try and suppress fire. A grenade fired his way forced him not towards the team but away from them. Running across the street and towards a pharmacy as a mass driven round struck his foot. He tumbled through the door, grabbing his foot in pain, now having injuries from shards of glass that came with it.
The awful cacophony of chaos raged, echoing through the artificial canyons of steel and glass. Meticulous, well-placed shots of rifles and DMRs alike. The constant, bursting chatter of machineguns. The hoarse commands echoing between exchanges in a constant dance of repositioning, covering, and avoiding falling into likely death traps. Unlike Tallum, the city had been evacuated in earnest, leaving the two opposing factions of Irken to their affairs unabated. Acceptable collateral damage to one party, a relief of no civilian casualties to another.
That, however, did not stop Mirage's sustained use of deployed ordnance. The steady, suppressive streams from elevated positions were terrible on their own. Dangerously close to grenades that already claimed a handful of non-fatal casualties didn't improve their situation any. The brainsmeet of Vaukt, modeled after the very same they currently sought to destroy, had taken the concept and ran with it. Constant, unrelenting pressure from disciplined, focused veterans.
Something had to give before the momentum snapped back in the ambushing Imperials' favor. Staying to stand their ground was absolute suicide. Vult and any other officer, commissioned or otherwise beneath him, knew that. Extraction was the only option. Secure their wounded, cover their movements, and fight their way back to the waiting vessel.
Zurrak was in his own position searching for Tuu, aiming through the scope of his VDF Type 87 plasma sniper rifle, current issue with his VDF and his trophy from Vort, though having its original optic replaced with one off an Irken SR4. Vara and Gers plugged away with their own sniper rifles, helping to keep Mirage at bay in the distance. His attention turned to a window. A brief glint of reflective flash. The bezel of an optic. His eyes and Tuu's met through their respective scopes. The Sergeant First Class and the Sergeant turned Major stared each other down; an ex Shadow Striker and a Scout Sniper turned Shadow Striker, peers, both went for the trigger pull.
Tuu's muzzle flash emanated first, prompting Zurrak to jerk his rifle slightly as he backed his head away from the optic, or at least attempted to. Tuu's plasma bolt struck Gers' scope, the optic shearing clean off its mount on the Vortian rifle and flying back into the sniper's face, breaking its visor and embedding itself in the shell of his helmet. Gers' own bolt whizzed closely by Tuu's head before landing against the wall behind him.
Despite being made by the traitor, Tuu's steeled nerves remained unflinching as the bolt snapped past him, splashing against the wall to his rear. His target's panicked scramble moments before impact and the high-speed debris was confirmation enough. If he wasn't down, he was certainly out of commission for the time being. A success nonetheless.
"Red-3, Purple-3, Black-1," He began amidst repositioning with haste. "Leave the street-level targets to the others. Prioritize countersniping. They're getting the cute idea of covering a full retreat. Put them down. Over."
"Stalker copies." Vinar of Purple team replied over his radio.
"Red-3 co-" Ukas started before the sound of shattering glass and tearing polymers came over the radio, "AGH! The goat took out my scope!"
Well-practiced as he breached another apartment door in search of his next position, Tuu rapidly cleared the domicile before shoving the kitchen table back into the darkness and settled in with his rifle.
"Have your position on my HUD, Red-3, where'd it come from?" He sought, slowly scanning the area for any spot he himself would set up shop in. "Stay sharp, Stalker. Traitors or not, they're on our level. Don't get sloppy. Over."
"Stalker copies. Saw one of them fall into the pharmacy on our left flank."
Absent any word from Candor, Kliz flew into action, "Black-4, 5, 6, flank left."
"Flanking," Pas replied as she racked her laser shotgun.
"Southwest of my position." Ukas replied.
"You hit?" Tuu queried as he began searching the narrowed-down likely locales for his aggressor. "Can you draw fire?"
"I'm good, just my scope is thrashed. I can try." Ukas intentionally stuck his barrel out the window, intending to draw fire, but no shot rang out. His opposition was smarter than that.
"Zurrak, where'd you say he was?" Vara asked as she aimed down her scope.
"Third floor, far left. Likely relocated."
"Jur, see anything?"
The male's spotting scope came upon Tuu's thermal signature.
"Got him, third apartment from the right side of the building."
Vara saw a brick wall in her way. Using one hand she drew back the bolt on her rifle, catching the chambered slug and hitting the button to release its clip of ammunition. In its place, she slipped in a clip of armor piercing slugs and slammed the bolt forward, aiming down her scope once again.
"Don't think the goat's taking the bait, boss." Ukas replied, only for a slug to tear through the brick, drywall, and then subsequently land in Tuu's armor. Enough furniture and energy in the way to deform the slug and eliminate much of its lethality. Though the mass driven slug still hit hard, embedding in Tuu's abdominal armor.
Just as he was to relay repositioning orders, the adjacent wall exploded in a flurry of directed debris and the wind immediately knocked from his spooch. The kinetic energy sent him sprawling out of the chair and across the floor, seized up, and coughing for much-needed air as he crawled on will alone around the corner.
"Find…her…kill…her." He eeked out between pained breaths.
"Ukas, swing left, 300 meters out!" Vinar barked, having seen the muzzle flash. "She put a round through the wall on Black-1!"
More to distract and draw, he took his own shot in her general area, punching a hole through the adjacent wall mere inches from her head in the process.
"Moving! You good, boss?"
"Y-yeah…catch my breath. Stay on them."
Vara took the near miss as the signal to move as she and Jur moved into the hall to uncloak and let their suit power recharge. "Spike, you get that?"
"I did, you getting any of the others on the team channels?"
"Nothing. Ervaus channels look like they're working, looking like they jammed the others."
Gers' sights trained on the muzzle flash from Vinar's position. Firing a shot from his SR4, the plasma bolt traveled downrange, burned through a hole in the window, and landed behind Vinar above his head, a near miss of his own.
Red Team's marksman's attempt earned him a response in kind. Scopeless, but proficient, Ukas made use of his rifle's rudimentary sights at-range. Unable to calculate the distance accurately in the high-speed exchange, his shot landed low at the windowsill. Molten, broken glass, wood, and masonry became high-speed shrapnel funneled directly at Gers.
The sniper fell back out of his position, quickly removing his armor to stop the source of the burns from the molten glass. His uniform and the armor itself having saved him from much of the shrapnel. Tears and lacerations on his arms from his rolled up sleeves spoke otherwise where rocks and wood splinters tore his skin.
"Stalker, Red-3, I think I clipped him. Lot of debris kicked up but he fell back. Confirm?"
"Confirmed, Red-3, good shot. Continue looking for other targets."
"Copy. Boss?"
"Repositioning. Armor stopped it. Keep the pressure on them. Move and shoot, don't linger." Tuu issued, making his way to another window of the apartment complex a floor higher, remaining elusive. "Do not let them get away."
"Fuck that hurt." Gers exclaimed.
"You good?" Vara asked.
"Lacerations…molten glass in my armor, need to wait for it to cool."
Down below, Amka and Haxx were making their way to others, getting groups of four to fall back to the ship. It looked like they and the snipers would be the last ones out. They both took cover behind a gnarled vehicle, seeing Lorlo rising to his feet despite various wounds in his boot from one of Vinar's mass driven slugs and the crashing through the door.
"Fuck…ow…ow…"
"Deris! Get over here!" Amka yelled, trying to get his attention. "Haxx, go help him."
"On it!" The Lieutenant responded, waiting for a brief lull in the incoming fire to take off in a sprint for the wounded Corporal.
He made it all of three steps forward before the crack of Tuu's rifle thundered. One moment, Haxx was mid-stride, destined for Lorlo. The next, he was sent crashing onto his back against the pavement in a heap. The chestplate of his prototype armor blackened with carbon scorring, cracked, and punched several inches inward stopped what would have been a lethal hit.
His stunned state lingered only a handful of seconds before he gasped, straining to breathe as he clutched at the ruined protective piece. The indentation pressed firmly against his sternum, fractures aplenty, and didn't allow his chest to fully expand, slowly suffocating despite surviving a center-mass hit from a high-power rifle.
"Nice shot, boss." Stalker complimented Tuu's work from his angle. "He's flopping around still. That fancy armor must've stopped it."
"As intended…watch the others try to save him. Put them down." He coldly sounded, bolt actuating and already seeking his next victim.
"Haxx!" Amka yelled, "Somebody, anyone! Covering fire!" Amka prepared a smoke grenade as another sight caught his eye. Lorlo struggling…with who? The man was wounded but clearly in a fight. Splatters of blood and falling objects soon revealed the figures of cloaked Irken. Members of Mirage moving in to disarm him and try to take him prisoner. What was he to do? What could he do?
From the corner of the adjacent building, Aren with her wounded commanding officer and confidant's arm around her shoulders, hurriedly moved for the ship in sight as Dorum posted up and began laying down covering fire. The open plaza was not ideal in terms of cover, but necessary to land safely. Wide open spaces with multiple snipers already landing hits did not bode well. Beggars could not be choosers, however. It was that or stay and most definitely die through attrition.
"C'mon, Orkos, you heavy…fffuck, move it!" She hissed through teeth grit in exertion.
Incoming fire snapped and splashed around them. The ramp was within sight. Only a little bit further to safety. A few dozen meters, a handful of seconds and they could be free of this nightmare.
One of the marksmen's rifles commanded presence over the din of battle. This time, the target of opportunity was none other than the Green Team's Sergeant drawing the shortest of straws. The bolt pierced her right hip in macabre fashion, painting the pavement a fresh shade of green as she crumbled beneath Orkos' weight and her own screaming agony.
Sula, amidst providing cover near the ramp, watched her squadmates' plight unfold. Instinct and training took over as she threw her rifle behind her back to run, ensnaring Zutel as she passed by to share the impending burden.
"Fucking-" Radec hissed in aggravation as they began running, swinging his GPMG to provide covering fire. "Commander, runnin' low here! Noose is gettin' real tight!"
"No one's getting left behind!" He fired back, struggling to maintain focus on the dozen different plates precariously balanced and wildly spinning out of control. "Aero, help drag Haxx, go!"
"Sir!" She obeyed, storming forward under the hail of fire exchanged towards Amka struggling with the Lieutenant's sheer size and weight of his armor.
Mhar instantly picked up where Zutel was with Zop's wounded arm in a bout of field surgery as she grabbed Orkos by his collar and flipped him onto his back. The Lieutenant screamed as the knife shifted and tore more of him open in the fall, blood pooling beneath him briefly before Zutel dragged him aboard.
"Posa! Get over here!"
The junior medic obeyed without question as she joined Mhar, orienting Aren into an upright drag by the back of her armor. The angry, bleeding exit wound out the front of her hip exposed, freely running and leaving an emerald streak as she gave it her all to get her aboard and begin rendering aid as quickly as possible. It looked bad.
Amka surveyed his situation. On one hand, Lorlo needed the help; three against one were hard enough odds without being wounded. On the other hand, Haxx was down and needed him, he wouldn't survive without air and even his metallic ribs wouldn't have taken that level of abuse without some crushing. Torn, the situation still hectic…he couldn't save everyone.
Deris came by, laying down suppressive fire with the GPMG as Amka threw the smoke grenade. Letting the smoke build up before making a move to drag Haxx himself. Not bothering to wait for Aero.
"Spike, Cobalt, back to the boat. We'll be there forthwith." Vara fired off. To aid in the suppression to make sure Amka wasn't gunned down trying to help Haxx, she took aim at Tuu's position, firing off the last seven rounds in her clip to keep him suppressed. A sharp ping signaling her that she was out of ammo. She and Jur then moved to join with Amka, Vara reloading her rifle on the move.
Vult, refusing to seek shelter within the safety of the ship, continued providing cover as they pressed on. Filing in, some on their own power, others being drug or carried, escape was a hair's breadth away. Power cells depleted, grenades expended, and medical supplies waning, staying any longer was unattainable.
Vara's rapid-fire bought Amka the time needed to get Haxx to Aero. Obviously fatigued from the task, she wasted no time in hoisting him into a shoulder carry with her size advantage and run the rest of the way to join the pandemonium in the hangar.
"C'mon, move, move, move!' Vult ushered, noticing Lorlo lingering some distance behind, walking backwards while providing cover. "Corporal, move your c'hurta, we're leaving!"
Deris backpedaled, laying down suppressive fire with his acquired LMG until the power cell finally gave out. After that, he turned and ran, right as all the marksmen and the Vortians were making their way aboard. Lorlo, however, was still unaccounted for. Deris stopped only to pick up Aren's fallen rifle and take a position at the foot of the ramp to suppress fire.
"Commander, I got this, you can do a headcount!" Deris yelled to him. Skrem's training on how to deal with stress was clearly paying dividends.
Just as Vult was to verbally lay into his bravado, he watched in horror as his man fell victim to a marksman's bolt, collapsing onto the ramp as Dorum spooled the engines up and was in the process of taking off. Reactively, he threw his weapon down to drag the wounded Corporal up the ramp into the hangar.
Once aboard, his fist smashed the adjacent button, closing the hangar ramp to seal up. Incoming fire pinged and ricocheted off the hull, but small arms alone would not penetrate. A weary sigh of relief followed.
"Medic!" He bellowed, looking around for the trio as they pulled triage.
"Arterial bleed, hand's are full, Sir!' Posa relayed, doing her best to curb Aren's ghastly wound.
"I got him, go check him!" Mhar assured, relieving Sula as he sought to aid Orkos' grievous injuries.
Moving with purpose, the Medical Officer quickly slid to her knees amidst the chaos. So caught up in her duties, it didn't occur to her precisely where Deris had been hit. The molten, smoldering hole through his fractured visor should have been a clear indicator of what she was about to witness.
Unfastening his helmet, intending to check vitals, the wet slap of bone fragment-filled brain tissue fell against the deck from the inside of his helmet. A perfectly-centered entry wound between his lifeless eyes and half of the inside of his head filled the interior of his helmet. Sula swallowed, setting the ruined helmet down as bloodstained hands rose in fists of frustration before letting out a shaky exhale.
"...Deris is dead, Sir. I can't fix that." She announced, closing the Corporal's eyes with a single hand before returning to those among the living that could use her help.
Haxx, struggling to breath, drew Vara's attention. Knowing she was in a position to do something, she set a foot down on his waist as her suit fibers emitted a red glow as it switched to enhance her strength. She leaned down to grab Haxx's shattered chestplate.
"Hold still. One, two-" without a second's hesitation, she tore up and away, ripping the chestplate in half and threw it aside onto the floor, taking all the pressure off of the Lieutenant and allowing him to breathe once again.
Immediately, a long, raspy gasp for much-needed air filled his burning spooch. Coughing, sputtering, and hacking, he wheezed, wincing as his head fell back against the deck panting. His chest aflame from lack of oxygen and fractures, it took a great deal of mental fortitude to remain reserved. Others were far worse off than he. He would get his turn. Just breathe.
Amka, meanwhile, threw his helmet down in sheer frustration and let out a series of curses in Vylatian.
"Hands! I need hands here!" Posa barked over the commotion, taking command of the situation as she struggled with Aren's agonizing thrashing, wrist-deep in her body. "Can't stop this if she keeps moving! Pile on her!"
Radec and Gers obliged their stricken comrade, pinning her limbs with their full bodyweight as Posa worked in the squelching, shifting flesh bubbling with blood. Hemostats and sealent, she reached deep in her hip, pushing shredded tissue aside to grab hold. All the while, emerald ichor pooled beneath Aren, running in rivulets over segmented armor plating and saturated uniform alike.
"There! Hold her still! HOLD! FUCKING HOLD HER STILL!"
"I'm tryin'!" Radec assured, straining with effort.
"SHE WILL DIE IF YOU DON'T." Posa snarled, determined to get the clamp in place.
"Clamp her!" Radec managed, keeping her pinned by the shoulders with his knees over her arms.
"I clamp and she twists to tear it, that's it!" The junior medic huffed at their "advice". Aware of time fading fast, a brief lull in Aren's animated movements, she pinched the severed artery shut and applied the clamp. "Got it! Do NOT take this off, infirmary, now, go!"
Zurrak made his way over with a stretcher, himself and Gers getting Aren off to the infirmary as Zutel and Mhar finally finished taking care of the worst of the injuries to Orkos' innards. The Lieutenant was screaming, biting hard into a leather bit all the while.
Lor looked around at what remained of the mix of Green and Black team that went out together into the field. Someone was missing.
"Where's Lorlo?"
Amka swore once more in Vylatian before responding, "Gone."
Aero's attention snapped to Purple Team's new commanding officer.
"Gone? What do you mean gone? Is he dead?"
"Mirage got him." Amka growled, "Three on one, he was shot in the foot and full of glass. Couldn't help him and help Haxx."
Her carnation pink eyes, framed by the grime of sweat and dirt from their encounter planetside, struggled to comprehend what Amka just said. Her confusion quickly replaced with fury as she stormed towards him.
"You left him behind?!"
Vult quickly intercepted his second, size difference or not, his artificial hand gripping the collar of her armor as he planted his feet into the deck to bring her to a halt. It took all his strength to hold her at bay as the metal soles of his boots scraped across the deck.
"Aero! Stop!"
"We have to go back!"
"We can't! Not with our wounded!" He fired back at her, despite his tone, the pain evident in his deep blue eyes. "We need to get them help or they will die! We can't fix them, not with what we have!"
Her anger gave into pain as her eyes twisted in sorrow. He was right and she hated the fact the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few.
"You don't think I wanted to help him?" Amka gestured out towards the ramp. "I would've loved nothing more than to drag both of them back."
"Stop fucking arguing and help us stablize the ones we can save!" Sula barked over her shoulder at them, rank be damned. "We can point fingers later! Whatever we're doing, we need to do it now! We need teams of surgeons!"
Vult, taking a deep breath, looked to Aero. "Tell Dorum to set course for Kyozist."
Red Team's Lieutenant did not immediately react. Hollowed, distant. The realization setting in. one of their own left behind. One lay dead on the deck a few meters away. Others in critical condition and more sporting a myriad of other injuries. Even their rescuee bore the brunt of the ambush missing an entire limb.
"Lieutenant." He sternly reiterated, giving her a small shake. "Bridge. Dorum. Kyozist. Now."
"Y-yes, Sir." She finally responded, sullen.
Amka sighed, looking around the hangar. Zop was walking towards the infirmary with his arm tended to but needing proper sealing, a couple others were getting Orkos on a stretcher to go to the infirmary. Krad, who was in absolutely no risk of bleeding out, sat against the legs of one of the mechs, still missing a left arm. Vara, meanwhile, stayed with Haxx, clutching the man's hand, making sure his condition didn't change while he waited his turn.
"Fffffuck…hurts…" He grimaced, eyes screwed shut. "Felt like…a sledgehammer…to the chest…and it got heavier."
"Better than having your chest cavity blown out." Vard commented, focusing on helping rather than the aftermath. "At least we know what the suit can stand up to."
"Debating that…fffucking Tuu…"
"Was it him?"
"Had to be…who else is that…accurate…on a moving…target." Haxx explained between labored breaths, wincing. "Fuck him. Fuck Mirage. Fuck the Empire."
Amka's swears in Vylatian filled the air once more, in part blaming himself for what was in effect giving Tuu his team. He bore part of the brunt of this. He cursed Tuu, absolutely enraged.
"That damn bootlick is going to die. I swear by Irk he is going to fucking die." Amka was now fully invested in a vendetta after this. Tuu's blood would be spilled and he would die for this.
Vara sighed, squeezing Haxx's hand. "Pretty sure it was Tuu. Saw the bastard through my scope before I dumped a clip at him. Major insignia, short fuck, about the height of Zim. Sounds about right for him?" She paused to shake her head, "Saw him get a shot off right before I started shooting too. Pretty sure that's what got Aren."
As the chaos slowly began to stabilize in the hangar, Aero arrived on the bridge. Moving with purpose, her long gait rapidly closed the distance between the lift and Dorum at the helm of the ship.
"Thanks for not leaving us behind like some people did." She huffed upon coming to a stop at his flank. "Commander said to set course for Kyozist. Need emergency medical assistance. It isn't pretty down there."
Kiara was on the bridge with Dorum, hailing Kyozist as the helmsman punched in the coordinates. Withdrawing a video receiver to contact the base.
"Admiral, General 'Zharic."
"Ah, how goes it?"
"Not good, Admiral. We were ambushed by an Armada special operations group that's every much the equal of our compatriots here. I won't mince words, we got creamed. One KIA, one MIA, lots of wounded. We need to come in for sur-"
"No!" Admiral 'Narr quickly cut her off, "Absolutely not. We can't risk compromising the station's position with the sort of heat on your backs."
Kiara, understandably frustrated with what she personally witnessed, gestured towards the infirmary on the ship decks below her. "Admiral, they don't have the facilities here for this sort of thing! There's only three medics capable of surgery here! What are we supposed to do?!"
Aero unkindly snatched the receiver from Kiara, hands filthy, uniform bearing battle scars, and carnation pink eyes lividly glowering.
"You listen and you listen good, mister man. My friends are going to die if you don't help us. If we can't come there, find somewhere. They die, I'm coming there. You hear me?"
"Calm down. I was about to tell the General I have a solution in mind." The Admiral chastised of Aero as Kiara snatched the receiver back. "General, I'm transmitting coordinates for the Third Fleet. Ohnmatu's linked up with them for the interim. The flagship should have the resources your people need for medical supplies and facilities."
"The Krata?"
"Yes, I'll send word you're coming so they don't engage you immediately."
Kiara sighed, "Appreciate it, Admiral."
"Keep me posted on how they come through. I have a feeling we need them as much as they need us. 'Narr out."
The General sighed, showing the coordinates to Dorum. Her attention turned to Aero, her sour mood was evident. Without even thinking about it, she snatched Aero up into a hug. Aero would've done the same for her, right? Aero said hugs made everything better many a time.
She said nothing. What was there to say? What did they do? Quite possibly the worst-case scenario befell them and they were fortunate to pull as many out of the proverbial fire as they could…but it still wasn't enough. One of their own lay dead on the deck of their ship. Others fighting for their lives on borrowed time. Worst of all, they left a man behind, his fate unknown.
"'M sorry, just…Aren, Orkos, Lorlo…Deris…" She muttered, physically pained speaking their names.
"We'll get them help, Aero. Aren and Orkos will make it." Kiara tried to be reassuring as she held the taller woman in her arms.
On Loorvu, Phok, Purple Team's new Lieutenant to replace Tuu in command of his old team, picked up Krad's severed arm. The Saros, Red Team's Captain and Lieutenant of the same name, bought over Candor's lifeless corpse. Sor looked over the dead First Sergeant briefly.
"Shame. Send a message for the fleet to send us a replacement. Strip him of his gear." The Sublieutenant ordered before looking at Krad's severed arm. "Shame we only got a piece of the traitor…" his attention shifted to Tuu coming over with other members of Black Team with the wounded Lorlo in their grasp.
"My, my…" Sor's disposition changed greatly, disappointment turning to a grin. "We missed Krad but we captured one of their own? This does change things greatly."
Mirage's acting commanding officer approached the gathering amidst what was the battlefield several moments prior. Their quarry managed to escape, but not without great cost. The loss of a limb, the grievous wounds inflicted, and at least a single confirmed kill in exchange for the life of one of their own. Not great, not terrible.
"Explains why I couldn't raise him on comms." Tuu observed, gesturing to Candor's body as his squadmates went about relinquishing him of gear and equipment. "Anyone else hit?"
Caz came over with a slash across his face. One of Vara's mass driven slugs grazed him through his visor and out the back of his helmet.
"Just me, Major, everyone else seems to be fine." The Sergeant sighed, "Just about what I expected out of Vortians in similar armor to SIS and the team I fought with before against some of those really enhanced ones."
Sor gestured to Lorlo, thrown to the ground before his own feet and Tuu's, deprived of his weapons and armor by the other members of Black Team.
"Add one captured to your tally, Major. Sergeant, you recognize this one?"
Caz took a look at Lorlo before shaking his head.
"Not in the least, Lieutenant. This isn't one of the ones I fought with on Vort. Don't think he was part of their team then."
Lorlo tried pushing himself to his knees, only for Kliz to put her foot on his back and push him down to his face again.
Sor then looked at Tuu, "I'm guessing you don't recognize him either of your more familiar compatriots, yes?"
The Major's cold gaze fell upon their prisoner briefly before returning to Sor.
"Never seen him before. Likely one of the recent additions prior to going rogue. The first of several poor decisions made. Question is what to do with him now. Safe to assume Internal Affairs would take a great interest in this opportunity, would they not?"
"Just shoot me now." Lorlo spoke, muffled.
"What was that?" Sor asked, gesturing for Kliz to get her foot off him. "Speak up, you."
Lorlo pushed himself up, "Just shoot me now. What's it matter? You got me, they left me to die. I have nowhere else to go. I'm basically alone in the universe now."
Sor looked at Tuu, "What are your thoughts, Major? You're the expert in this team and their type."
"My thoughts are whatever the Empire sees fit and Internal Affairs serves to benefit from this." Tuu responded in kind, turning his attention back to Lorlo. "I'm aware standing orders are kill-on-sight for those who defected with General Vaukt…but I'm inclined to believe the Corporal here doesn't share their convictions."
"Meaning?" Sor, morbidly curious now, pursued.
"Never allow an opportunity to go to waste. The Empire sees a traitor fit for death…perhaps Internal Affairs may have some use of him pending his…cooperation."
Lorlo remained silent, surveying what was before him. Tuu? Merciful? That didn't seem like him at all. Sor nodded, agreeing with Tuu's assessment.
"Bring him back to the ship, patch up his foot and those other wounds and then put him in the brig. I'll find a suitable place to send him. We certainly can't send him to Vort after what happened." His attention shifted back to Tuu after a pause, "And you, Major, are in need of a new second for your team."
"I'll leave the details up to your expertise. Detainment and enforcement aren't our primary directives. Kliz."
"Yes, Major?"
"You've been promoted to Black-2." Tuu summarized morbidly. "You're it until you die or I find someone better."
"Yes, Sir." Kliz nodded in affirmation to her field promotion, turning to the rest of Black team. "Qad, dress his foot, prep him for extraction. Rest of you, sweep the area for anything of value they may have left behind. Sooner that's concluded, sooner we can get off this dung heap of a world."