Vult and Hesa were the first out of bed and preparing to go. The others were still asleep, for now, afforded some extra time before they needed to wake up. Hesa was already fully suited, save for her helmet and a PRC and making some to go coffee as their video communication unit set up in the living room went off. She walked over as the coffee brewed and hit the button, seeing Corr on the other side, looking rather perturbed.
"Corporal," Corr started.
"Well good morning to you too...everything all right?"
"I need to speak with the Commander."
"Ah, sure thing, hang on." She walked off camera and to the bedroom, "Vult, Corr's on the line for you." She walked back to the kitchen as Corr waited for Vult to appear on screen.
"Commander, I have a matter I need to address, on Lieutenant Kazak and his equipment." Corr even sounded irritated, "I've bitten my tongue long enough with him ditching the overcoat and could understand his reasoning, but do you know he's made modifications to our equipment? He's made some sort of...passive camouflage to help him blend better into the environment without any sort of authorization."
Vult, in uniform with his own appropriated mug of coffee as he slowly stirred the piping-hot contents before sipping, listened to his second-in-command's words regarding Kazak.
"Modifications?" Vult queried, between curious and seeking more information as he sampled his drink. "What sort of modifications?"
"Firstly...he is not in a proper uniform at all. He's wearing only parts of our uniform coupled with the attire he used to wear as a scout sniper. He's also wearing additional armor. I've personally went over and expected his other items. He's made permanent alterations on the excuse of fieldcraft. Added more pockets for gear, supporting hooks for belts on his jacket, and this system that he worked in that allows him to blend in better. This...passive camouflage system. It takes a short time, but once he settles somewhere, it alters its coloration to reflect the environment around him. It runs off our active system." Corr paused to take a breath after his rant. "I know he hasn't received authorization for this from me, and I know you wouldn't grant it either, sir."
Yet another pause from Corr, "I would question Sergeant Vard if he was here to see if he had anything to do with this, but I know he wouldn't make such alterations without our approval."
Vult processed all of this as Corr spoke. Individualism was a newfound concept to he and those of the team free of their programming...but such also opened up questions and suspicions of outsiders in passing, tactical advantages aside.
"I'll share your curiosity soon enough with him." Vult assured before another sip. "Send for Kazak. Tell him to be there and waiting for my arrival. We can ask him ourselves together."
"Yes, sir, he'll be waiting there with me when you arrive." Just then, some loud explosions went off in the distance. Hesa bolted out the door and went to the roof for a better view. "Hang on, sir," Corr called out over the radio to the others, "What was that?"
Mizak's voice was the one that came through, "Looks like a massive explosion in Sector Three, right where our forward air base is."
Kazak followed as he looked through the magnifiers, "Confirmed. I'm seeing lots of secondaries. Looks like the Vortians snuck out and hit the place."
Zurrak was next, "Guys, maybe you should look at the barrier."
The VDF was coming out to meet the Irken in a large counter-attack. Walkers, light armor, even antiquated pieces of technology that looked like they belonged in museums were coming out to fight.
Once more, Kazak came on the comms, "You guys might want to prep those big guns. Looks like this is a counterattack."
"Roger that," Corr looked back to the screen, "Looks like that talk is going to have to wait, sir. We could use the rest of you here five minutes ago, though."
It was hard not to notice the airport repurposed into the Empire's airfield for their fighter and close-air support operations going up in flames. Even at-range, across the city, the night sky lit up, glowing an angry, roiling orange and yellow. Smaller explosions as munitions and fuel stores detonated followed. Alarms across the Irken lines went off and quick reaction forces mobilized in response.
"Sounds like they're getting desperate." Vult summarized as he finished his coffee with a wince before snatching up his helmet. "We'll be inbound in five. Unless something else happens between now and then, I still want Kazak there. Red-1 Out."
Corr nodded and cut the line. "Kazak, monitor the situation, unless they start heading our way in five minutes, I want you at my position."
"Any particular reason why?"
"I think you know why."
Hesa made several cups to go after coming down from the roof and confirming what the others saw with the airfield, after rousing the others and making sure they were ready to go. They sped through the streets, avoiding debris and wrecked vehicles where they had to, coming to a stop at a bank where Corr waited. Hesa followed Vult holding two cups and waited outside as he went in. The apparent counter attack was hitting another sector rather than their own, curious enough.
Kazak sat in a chair, in all his equipment. His boots lowered to ten inches in height and with a modified knife sheath sewn to the outside, his old scout sniper pants in gray with their own jacket worn and the sleeves rolled up. His gloves had the fingers sliced off for more dexterity, and the rest was as Corr said. He wore an extra equipment set to carry more gear, though, what was most curious was what lay nearby, a completely separate set of armor that he crafted up in his spare time back aboard the ship. A less discerning eye would also miss his helmet that blended into the carpet.
Corr stood there with a scowl, completely unamused at this state of affairs. As much as Kazak saved Vult's life...Corr saw him as a problem. Bad habits from his old unit that didn't seem to fit well with them, perhaps. Though to Corr this went beyond bad habits and undermined unit cohesion in his view. "Here as ordered, Commander."
Orders were delegated to the others upon his arrival. They knew their posts and who they were to relieve. Vult strode in, setting his prepared thermos of coffee to-go down before taking Kazak in fully. He remembered his first entry to the team and how he wore his uniform then. It was as if he had come full circle back to that...and then some.
"Little lax on uniform regulations aren't we?" Vult purposely queried as he came to stand before him. They had a talk about his behavior and attire before. This was a whole other level.
Less out of anger, but more to get the man's attention and firmly remind him of the chain of command, Vult kicked his customized helmet hard enough to bounce off the legs of a nearby table, garnering his full attention.
"Field or not, not one, but two of your superior officers stand before you, Lieutenant. Off your c'hurta, at-ease. Now."
Kazak stood up, looking Vult right in the eyes. There was some sort of irritation in them, almost as if he was insulted. He didn't say anything, yet, but he just leered back. He saw himself as a field professional and something as trivial as gear choices and attire came off as heavily insulting.
Waiting until Kazak steadied himself, Vult ignored the agitated look in the man's eyes for the time being as he obeyed the directive. He also took the moment to take in his modifications and customizing of equipment. It was as if he had taken his old uniform and spliced it together with what he had been issued upon acceptance into Vult's outfit.
"...Kazak…" Vult began with a sigh, trying to curb his ire at this to seek understanding. "...I apologize if I insult your intelligence...but can you please tell me why you believe I am upset?"
"Honestly? I think it's because Corr can't take any sort of prud-"
"Stop. Now." Vult glared at him. "Of all the people I expected to be casting blame to others, you are not high on that list. The Captain has nothing to do with you making unauthorized changes to your gear and equipment. There's a reason why we have a uniform and regulations behind the uniform, Lieutenant."
"I've been at this before either of you." The sniper's glare only seemed to intensify, "You were both Elites, you both have regulations, you were line infantry. This line of work? A lot of us usually add or remove gear as we need and typically we 'lose' the damn useless overcoat. I think I know what I'm doing in the field." There were a few tense moments of silence before he turned and took several steps away with a huff of frustration.
It took a lot of reservation and self-control to not leap into a tirade about his behavior and absolute disrespect he was showing. His attitude, his inflection, his choice of words, and most of all, the implications of calling his and Corr's experience into question overstepped a boundary. Even so, he let him try to explain.
"Look, I know you're both trying to maintain some manner of discipline so the others don't get too relaxed. I think you might be underestimating the bond you already have with them." He stopped to look directly to Vult, "You remember what I said back on that station?"
Corr stepped in, "The uniform aside, Lieutenant, there's the matter of your blatant disrespect. Not a single sir or anything in there."
"Is that it?" The sniper huffed, reaching into his pocket and tossing a pair of small items to Corr. He caught them and looked down, staring right at Kazak's rank insignia taken off of his other jacket.
"What's the meaning of this?"
"I thought it'd be painfully obvious."
"It isn't." Vult directly spoke to him. "Why don't you clarify yourself before we reach our own conclusions. I called you here for the chance to explain what you've done to your uniform and why. You choose to disrespect both of us and imply your superiority over your own experiences. Kazak, we've worked together this long and you have a solid understanding of how I operate. You should also know I am very close to knocking every fucking tooth out of your mouth right now. Say what you want about me, but you will not speak that way about any of the others. You have one more chance to tell me why you've done this to your uniform before you are gumming your next nutrient paste."
The sniper sighed. "Survival, redundancy, what I'm used to based on what I went through in the past. I told you what I went through. I'm lucky to even be standing here and not have my off button pressed for being a survivor even if it meant escaping using an alien piece of technology. I rather have something and not need it than need it and not have it. My last unit let me innovate, get more creative, and that's what I've really found worked. If it's crazy and it works, it's not crazy."
"All of which are good points," Vult conceded. "No one has told you you cannot innovate or improvise. I encourage that...but there is also a chain-of-command. You present your ideas. You request permission. The others abide by this and still do. Always have, always will. The unit you came from forced you to be self-reliant and independent. Good traits. Here, in this team, you are a member of it and work with them and apply those same skills to accent one another. You already know this."
The Commander stepped forward, his artificial hand raising to pull at his sewing and application of materials atop a heavily-modified jacket.
"...our gear is not standard-issue, nor is it cheap. There are a limited number of sets of uniforms in our configuration and I have to keep track of all of them at all times. I also have to explain why I need more of them when they suffer irreparable damage...or whatever it is you've done to yours. Do you understand what I am saying?"
The pouch in question contained more first aid equipment than usual, something he didn't sport the last time. He probably learned with Saro that maybe carrying some more might be helpful, it was even enough to carry more field rations if he had to. He sighed once more, nodding just once, though he already had something else in mind with what he wanted to say before he was interrupted.
"Now, can you tell me why you threw your rank at me, Lieutenant?" Corr held up the two pieces of insignia, looking right at him.
There was silence on Kazak's part at first as he tried to wrap his head around what he was wanting to say next.
"Go ahead, Lieutenant." Vult insisted. "I've already said what I needed to say. Just...be mindful of the next statement that comes out of your mouth. Floor's yours. Speak freely. Hasn't stopped you yet."
The sniper sighed, reaching down to his thigh holster and pulling up his machine pistol before presenting it to Vult resting on his hand. "I quit."
Corr just seemed to look flabbergasted, he didn't expect those words to come out of his mouth. "You? You quit?"
"Yes," he looked to Vult, there was more of a sincerity about him now rather than the frustration and anger of before, "Look, Vult, you're my friend, even Corr is to an extent. I'm willing to go to a lot of lengths with you...I know we both have already. I think this...situation of ours has let some things come to the surface...and it's my honest opinion that I operate better as a loner."
It took a few solid seconds for Vult to process what he was hearing and understand what was being implied. Not out of complexity...but the sheer force of impact Kazak's words had on him in that moment. Sure, they were heated seconds prior, but he felt he explained himself well enough and the lesson was learned. This...he didn't know what this was or how to feel about it.
"That is a bullshit excuse if I've ever heard one." he finally managed, glaring at Kazak. "I wouldn't be standing here if that were the case. What's the real reason?"
Almost an extension of his confusion threatening to give way to contempt over Kazak's perceived unwillingness bordering on cowardice, he forcibly shoved the drawn weapon back into the marksman's chest.
And just like that, the anger was back, "Well, believe it or not, that's the case. This? Maybe, just maybe if it weren't for the overall good that came out of it, I'd be having second thoughts about joining with you in the first place." He shoved his weapon back into its holster and grabbed his armor and put it on, kicking up his helmet and catching it. "Now, I'm going back out there to where I was before. You're free to shoot me in the back or whatever procedure you have to deal with people who want out, or you can give me a one way trip to our newfound friends and they might have a use for me."
"You aren't that lucky, Lieutenant." Vult shook his head with a smirk to mask his contempt. "No one here is going to waste a plasma bolt on you to punch your ticket and give you an easy out. Not now. Not this deep. You chose this." He reminded him before jerking his head.
"Go. Cool off. Sort yourself off. You need to talk, I'm here. As you were."
"Bah," he simply walked out, helmet in hand, grabbing his rifle resting near the door, passing by Hesa sitting on the steps outside on the way out.
"Good morning," she said as she looked at the passing Kazak.
"No it ain't."
Corr watched the Lieutenant go and looked to Vult, "I..think he may have had some sort of a mental break, sir."
The Commander sighed wearily. He had just woke up to start their watch rotation. An explosion across the city and now this. It was going to be one of those days it seemed. He rubbed his eyes in exasperation.
"Maybe so...I know she's just coming off of watch, but send Sula after him. She's the best qualified to talk to him right now." He admitted, shaking his head. "...I probably made it worse trying to straighten his back about all of it when he called me "friend". Maybe I'm the one falling back on training and familiarity now." He concluded with a humorless huff, running a hand back over his antenna.
"I would hope not, sir. We are still something of a team..even though I am counting us down two snipers if he snapped." Corr sighed, "What I'm surprised is that he even said that he considers me one…"
"Trust. Respect. Both." Vult commented in retrospect. "I owe him my life and he's pulled his weight since day one. He's reliable. We can't lose that. Not now."
He looked to Corr fully.
"If Sula can't help him, he's gone. We'll worry about that bridge when we arrive at it. Send her first, see if she can bring him back from whatever brink he's at."
Corr nodded and keyed his radio, "Sula, I know we're off watch soon, but the Commander wants you to check in on Lieutenant Kazak. We think he may have had some sort of a mental break."
A moment's delay before his comms chirped with an inbound transmission.
"Yes, Sir. Right away." She responded, albeit tiredly. Her looking forward to a warm bed and a hot meal would have to wait it would seem. For good reason by the sounds of it. The Medical Officer wasted no time in making her way towards the Lieutenant's position.
Kazak returned to his previous position at one of the upper floors of an office building in a well established hide. Rather than go back into the roost itself, he sat in the hallway and shook his head, trying to take some time to sort through everything he was going through.
Sula entered the building, making the trek up the stairwell, floor-by-floor towards the Lieutenant's biometric reading on her HUD. His vitals seemed nominal with the exception of an elevated heart rate. Stress? Anxiety? Any combination of things at this point given the brief, but concerning information the Captain relayed to her.
The sound of footsteps threw Kazak off from his thoughts as he quickly moved into cover, leaving his helmet in the hall and unknowing Sula was coming up. He drew his machine pistol and waited. When the door to the stairwell opened he kept his sights aimed down until he saw Sula step through. Frustration hit and he groaned, holstering his weapon. "I could've shot you!"
She meandered through the collections of rubble and debris strewn in the hall, approaching the marksman with a sheepish smile.
"I...apologies, Sir. I assumed you were wearing your visor and would have detected me...my fault." She explained, watching him move about for a few seconds in silence, thinking of how to broach the topic. A light, awkward clearing of her throat followed.
"I, uh...Captain Corr told me to report to you, Lieutenant. Said that you required assistance."
"Unless that assistance is a ticket out of here once that's done, then I didn't request shit." He responded in further frustration as he sat back against a wall in the hall. "And stop calling me sir. I told them I quit." The sniper sighed and let his head drop, "I said they were my friends but they clearly don't seem to share the sentiment. All of this...the changes, being free for once. It really makes you think...and relive some pretty horrific experiences."
Sula winced as Kazak felt strongly about the situation and cast it back at her. Even if she was to be at-attention before a superior officer, her hands fidgeted before her still. Not even the change to her programming and removal of the influence of the Empire could make nervous tics go away it seemed.
Before she could speak again, the sniper's head fell, as did his words that followed. She swallowed, raising a hand to speak, but unsure of what to say. The words didn't immediately formulate and her posture deflated with a small sigh.
"...why do you think that, Si-...Lieutenant." She settled for, trying to find a point to start, her eyes hidden behind her visor still. "We are all friends...aren't we? I think we are….I want to think we are…"
"No rank either, I said I quit…" His head didn't come up, he just shook it, "And they made it pretty apparent that they didn't consider me such. I'm still just subordinate lackey number three, clearly." There was a long pause and then a loud, audible sigh as he finally looked up, "I'm done with this. This...subordinate-commander thing. I chose this. I chose to see this through the end. I damn well want to. Though I think being unhooked made me realize that I'm a loner. The self-reliance and adaptability from my old unit was really harped on, and I think it fits with who I am. The solo ops? Felt right at home. Nobody to worry about…" and nobody to have to worry about him if he failed was the part he didn't say.
"Look, if those two in their high tower are worried that I won't fight, tell them that's not the case." He mumbled some further words to himself before withdrawing his canteen for a drink.
Standing there, if not awkwardly so, Sula finally opted for hesitantly stepping closer. Retrieving her rifle and equipment from her back, she set it down before finding a seat just to Kazak's right beside him. In a similar posture, she leaned back against the wall, hands before her still. Her expression, hidden beneath her visor still, tightened as he spoke of Vult and Corr.
"...they are worried about you. Not the Lieutenant or the soldier part. The "you" part." She reasoned softly. It took a lot of reservation to not defend her superiors. Her hands fidgeted once more.
He didn't say anything as he slipped his canteen back in its pouch. He just closed his eyes, resting his head back against the wall. There was a long silence, he just sat there, almost expressionless.
The Medical Officer finally mustered the courage to speak and break the uncomfortable, stifling silence given Kazak's mood. More of a conclusion her thoughts arrived to as she analyzed his statements, word-by-word, line-by-line.
"...I think you're a very capable leader, Kazak. You're...calm. Concise. You always seem to know what to do at the right time. That isn't something that can be taught." She reasoned, sighing. "...I can see why you prefer being alone. Must be the assignment you were given. The duties of a sniper, that is. Tuu...wasn't much for conversation, either...not that I'm comparing you to him...and that sounded worse than I anticipated it to…"
She let out an annoyed growl at herself, shaking her head with her palms to her helmeted temples before lifting her head back to bounce off of the wall behind her with a huff.
"...I can't imagine the pressure you and the other officers are under right now...I just wish I had something...insightful to say. I'm not a psychologist even though everyone assumes I am because it's "doctor stuff"." She summarized, if not slightly agitated with air quotes.
"...Sorry...this is about you, not me...I want to help…"
"Then tell them I'm fine but I was serious about quitting," he expressed with a slight hint of frustration. "You know what I want if I get to the end of all this? Find some...shack somewhere in the middle of nowhere, live simply, off the land, and have everything to myself. Leave all this behind and live out my days in solitude."
"You're not fine though," Sula responded, turning her head to face him. "I calibrated my bio-scanner at the start of our watch. Your readings are all over the place right now. Not all pain is physical….and as nice as that sounds, I can't ignore that. One of the things I am good at is healing...just not the...psychological part...yet...maybe." She stumbled.
A long, annoyed sigh at herself followed. Calm down, Sula. Focus. You can do this.
"Just...talk to me, Kazak. Please. I don't care about what. Tell me more about what you plan on doing after the Empire goes away. After we don't have to fight anymore."
"It's like I said...live off the land, have solitude...I'm not asking for a whole lot out of life. I gave more than my pound of flesh as it were already. It looks like I'm metaphorically going to give a limb next." The sniper shook his head, "I'm just done with this. Lieutenant? I don't care anymore. I don't want it. I'm just some...five foot seven angry civilian with guns and explosives who wants to shove a boot up the Empire's collective ass." A pause followed, "Something I don't think Vult and Corr understand...or I wasn't putting it very well."
Her forward-raked, curly antenna drooped as he spoke. Quitting. Giving up. No longer wishing to lead or be there, with them, through it all. He may not have been there from the start, but the past several months and the chaos that entered their lives, he was there for it all.
"They do understand…" She muttered quietly, trying to remain composed. "...and I know you do, too. You wouldn't be here with us if you didn't."
The fidgeting returned, focusing on her hands as they twisted and writhed on one another.
"I'm not a leader. I'm barely a soldier." She huffed weakly. "...but I want to try, do my best. It didn't matter before. Now...it matters more than ever. I...just want you to know that you aren't alone. Not with what you're...thinking and dealing with. I...can't name names as it isn't fair to them...but there is more than just one of us displaying the same...thoughts and feelings you are."
Squinting her eyes shut tight, her hands locked together, the fidgeting stopping as they trembled from her grip to focus.
"...I don't know how else to articulate it...but your goals? What do you want to do after all of this? I'm willing to die so that can be possible. For you. For the others. For everyone. Mine don't matter if everyone else is dead and they can't share their own alongside me."
He didn't know what to say at first, his eyes stayed closed and quiet as he tried to think. Finally, he came up with something, "Yours matter more than mine. You'll have someone. I'd rather spend mine alone." His hand came up to her shoulder for a few seconds as he stood up and walked back to the room he set up in, setting down his rifle once more. "Go back, get some rest, you look like you need it. I'm not going anywhere right now. I still have the rest of you to look out for." He didn't know what else to say as he looked through his rifle's scope, leaving his helmet in the hall, blended into the tile floors and the wall.
The touch was unexpected. Her head lifted and looked up at him at it. She was left full of conflict. Did she take his words at face-value and leave him be or keep digging until they got to the root of the problem? Sometimes that did more harm than good depending on what was said and how it was said.
"T-That's not true!" She stammered, scurrying to her feet with the scrape of boots across concrete floors. "Your's are just as important! Everyone's is!"
Her own frustration started to break through as she reached up, unclasping her helmet and tearing it off to toss down with the rest of her gear. Bright, golden-brown eyes looked back at him. Surprisingly full of energy and alive for having been awake for so long...but the signs of fatigue resided at the bottom of them still. The spirit was willing and overriding the body's desire for rest, it seemed.
"...I don't want to go anywhere. I-I can't. Not in good faith." She reasoned with a shaky exhale.
He glanced up from his prone position on the floor, her look still gave him the impression she was tired even if she was trying to stay awake. He just shook his head and went back to looking through his scope. "If you get shot standing exposed like you are, I'm not taking the blame." He remarked at her, seeing how she would've been exposed standing as she was. "Seriously, go, you need the rest. I'm staying right here where I belong. I still have a job to do."
Sula's frustration elicited a growl of agitation as she pulled at her antenna. Storming forward, she hit her knees as she came to Kazak's side. A hand grasped him by the shoulder, forcibly rolling him away from his rifle to face her. She lunged for the rigging of his equipment in lieu of his missing collar, taking purchase and shaking him by it.
"Are you so...self-absorbed that you can't see I care about you?" She almost demanded...and in that moment, immediately regretted doing so. So unlike her. So uncharacteristic. She fell back on her haunches, releasing him with a huff.
"You're...crumbling. Falling apart...and I want to help put you back together...and you push me away...just like the rest of them. Well, guess what? I'm not the rest of them, okay?" She prodded her own chest. "I...I don't kill people without blinking. It doesn't come as easy as breathing for me...I'm a healer. A medic. I mend. I-I-I don't break. I don't want to break...and I'll be damned if I'm going to stand idle and watch you break!"
That was...very strange to have Sula of all people do that to him. If it were Volx, they probably would've traded a few punches by now. He rolled back and looked out again real quick to see if anyone noticed anything. "First thing's first, you're going to tell everyone we're up here yelling like that. Can you keep your voice down?" He huffed, frustrated, "Yeah, you're a medic, you fix things. Only thing I'm good at is boring a hole right between someone's eyes at a distance and doing recon. If I wanted to leave, I would. I know what to ditch, and with my skill, I could very well disappear...maybe...hopefully. If that was my intention, you wouldn't find me here."
There was a pause as he thought he saw something move and looked for several seconds, "Right now you're distracting me, I don't want to get people killed. Right now I just want to be left alone, all right? Can you, Vult, and Corr just get off my ass?" There it was again, he saw something shifting again. He started to reach down to his right thigh pocket for an infrared monocular.
"Forget them...and forget you!" She huffed. "The only person you're going to get killed is you…"
More out of frustration at his playing off of her emotions as being bothersome and annoying, she snatched the device out of his hand and threw it out the window...and down many, many stories.
"..and wear your damn helmet! Half the gadgets you carry around are built into it! Maybe it will protect your big...stupid...dumb head too!"
Now that...that pissed him off…"You fucking idiot. I saw movement out there, and you threw away the thing I was going to verify it with." The sniper growled, "Get the fuck out, or I'm going to throw you down those stairs like you threw my thermal monocular out the window."
Certainly, she overreacted. She didn't know where that came from. Normally, she was calm as could be. This...this was all new. The fire. The temper. Now...the odd pain in her chest at his insults and demands to be left alone. Her eyes welled up with tears yet to fall before nodding weakly. Wordlessly, she made to stand and return to her gear and do as he asked. Leave. Leave him alone. Leave him to whatever mess he himself was stuck in.
That's when the shot rung out.
She heard it, the antenna-splitting, hypersonic crack...and immediate, awful, burning pain in her left shoulder as she tumbled forward from the impact. Those tears did fall then, but not from her hurt feelings. Rather, the fresh, bleeding hole in and out of her body now. Oh, the stench of Irken blood. Singed flesh. It was one thing when it was others she had been elbow-deep in countless chest cavities...another when it was her own.
Strangely, she didn't wail or cry out in pain. Rather, she rolled on the ground, biting her lip so hard it too bled. This was her fault. She brought this on herself by being stupid and dumb. Mostly stupid, but also dumb. She gave away their position. Not just her own, but Kazak's too. Her fault.
No panic. Only pain. She drug herself, pushing with her feet across the floor towards her waiting pack for the much-needed supplies in them. She could fix this. It was her job to fix this. She always fixed this.
The shot caught his attention, he turned the scope in the direction of the blast, looking for a glint of glass or anything that would give away the shooter's location. Right now, Kazak focused on that, even if the smell of blood came into the room, he simply lifted a cloth from around his neck up over his nose to cover the stench. "Any of you see the shooter?"
"Negatory," Mizak was first to answer.
"Nothing here, Deadeye," Avak was next.
"Thought I did but I see nothing." Zurrak was last.
"Fuck me, calling it in," He quickly switched channels to the others, "Guys, contact in my overwatch sector. My position's been compromised and Sula's been shot." He wasn't going to include the detail that she's the one who gave it away. "I think we're dealing with those suited bastards."
Despite the mess of rolling around in her own blood streaking across the floor and the wall she leaned on, Sula's remaining operable arm quickly rifled through her kit. Clean in-and-out, she needed to stop the bleeding...that was an awful lot of blood for what it was...bad...very bad…
Making use of teeth, she tore open sterilized packages of gauze in preparation to pack the wound. That would be the case if she could stay focused. The gauze fell from her mouth.
"K-...Ka-...Kazak…" she panted, struggling to stay coherent. "He-Help...please. S-sorry...sorry...please...help"
Kazak started sliding his way across the floor, dragging himself along rather than risk exposing himself by standing. He made his way into the hall and saw Sula bleeding from her left shoulder. "Some timing," he muttered to himself as he made his way over and opened one of his own modified pouches on his jacket and withdrew some heavier duty first aid supplies, going to work to stop the bleeding.
"Don't panic...don't panic...don't panic…" Sula said mentally over and over again. A mantra she repeated countless times before under stress. Just a gunshot wound. Nowhere vital...but maybe clipped something vital and not entirely energy-based. It wasn't cauterized...and it kept bleeding...profusely.
Her willed movements were sluggish or outright unresponsive. Tell-tale sign of rapid loss of blood pressure...massive hemorrhaging...bad stuff...She saw Kazak sliding back to her, her eyes welling up with more tears as her voice broke.
"So-...sorry-...sorry…" She struggled to coherently speak. No. Focus. "...epi-...epipen...pack...aaaa….adren-..."
Her vision began to swim. She felt dizzy. Her bloodstained hand grasped at him, finding his shoulder. Something to focus on. Comfort. He was there. She was going to be fine. The same comfort she gave countless others...before they died.
"Vult, be advised, looks like some of these guys might be packing older railguns." He spoke over the radio as he worked, looking closer and seeing the problem, he saw what it was, arterial bleeding. The sniper grimaced, he wasn't a surgeon but this needed steady hands that he had. He withdrew something from his own pack for her to bite down on, pulling out his personal trauma pack as well. Then he looked to Sula's own equipment, finding an adrenaline shot and giving it to her before quickly moving to clamp the artery shut that he saw gushing blood at that moment. "Okay, okay, okay, I clamped that."
Just as she started to feel cold and begin to slip, she saw Kazak rear back through her dark, blurred vision. His fist was balled up. Was he going to punch her? She deserved it, frankly. Her brain sent the message to wince and flinch in preparation, but she lacked the blood to make it so. Rather, his hand did slam into her chest...but the sharp, painful pierce of a needle deep into her chest cavity and the contents it injected was like she grabbed a live electrical wire.
Her eyes shot wide, gasping, limbs trembling as her heart surged in response. Fully awake and aware despite the rapid loss of blood.
"Go-...good, good, good!" She stammered, coming back, even if briefly. "C-clamp the other side...pack...transfusion...uh..umm...Aero! Bloodtype! Fast!"
Rather than distract him with it, her bloodied hand grasped at her radio, squelching heavy on the channel.
"Aero!"
"Hmm? Sula?" She answered. "You-"
"Sh-shutup...my position...now...shot...need blood."
"Oh-...oh...oh! Uhh...on my way!"
Her hand fell back to her side, rolling her head to look at Kazak.
"Just...pressure...until sheeee-"
She started to drift again, her head falling slowly.
He huffed, taking off his gloves and wrapping them around a hard object before sticking it in her mouth. "This is going to hurt like a son of a bitch, just bite down on it." Prepping a couple of items from his kit and sighed. "Never fucking done this one before…" He paused to move to her pack and prepped the items for a transfusion before going to work on the torn artery. "Pain better keep you awake or I'm going to shock you with something, I swear."
Heavy, pounding footsteps could be heard coming up the stairwell.
"Friendly!" She exclaimed over the radio as she continued to climb as fast as her feet could carry her. Being tall had one advantage: Long strides and running fast, it seemed.
She rounded the corner, sprinting down the hall. The last step, she slipped in Sula's pooling blood, taking a tumble as she slid up to her and Kazak. The moment she fell, a second shot rang out, missing her by inches as it struck the roof. Debris and dust fell to the floor. Throwing her weapon to the side and freeing up her limbs, she ignored just how much blood her squadmate had lost around them as she began snatching up the supplies Kazak had procured on training alone.
She looked up, seeing Sula's eyes closing as her head began falling. Having just stuck herself with the kit to draw and fill a blood bag, she made sure to not yank the needle out as she leaned forward, shaking the Medical Officer.
"Hey, hey, hey, no sleeping! Stay with us!" She ushered, completely oblivious to the fact she almost had her own head taken off, likely by the same one responsible for the current mess.
"A-Aero?"
"Yeah, Aero. You ain't dyin'. Not today." She spoke with such confidence, watching the bag fill. "I'll give you all the blood you need, just stay awake."
"S-sure...awake…"
"That's right, awake," She kept her talking, looking to Kazak. "...almost full...I'll keep 'em comin' 'til I pass out."
"Don't pass out yourself. I might need you for something." He made sure everything was prepped as he tore Sula's uniform to expose her other arm and prepared the IV for the transfusion. "You're going to have to hold the bag up. I'm going to try and sew this back together. I'm no surgeon, but I have steady hands." He held up the item that fell earlier, holding it in front of Sula's eyes. "Seriously, bite down on this. This is probably going to hurt like hell." He placed it and took a breath. "Here goes nothing…" He started working on it from there, something to keep Sula stable long enough without having to worry about clamps and for the PAK's medical systems to take over mending it.
Aero focused on keeping the blood flowing in the literal sense. Between transfusing her own to providing it for Sula while Kazak did his best to fill in as the medic since the medic was somewhere between life and death currently. Sula's body twisted and bucked at the pain, forcing Aero to use her size and weight to pin the weakened Medical Officer against the wall as he worked. She quickly reached up, tapping the side of her helmet for illumination on his work.
"How's it looking?" Aero winced as Sula cried out around her muffled guard for the pain. "She's not goin' anywhere, no strength left. Stitch her up, c'mon."
"Working on it, working on it…" he huffed, hands drenched in blood, but he kept a steady hand and a firm grip on the needle. "Looks like the vein is okay. Thank goodness. Not going to have to sew two things up." Some more tense time passed as he finished, looking over his work and nodding, taking the scissors from his trauma pack and cutting the medical thread before putting some gauze over the wound.
The tall, willowy female assisted once he concluded the sutures and the initial gauze was applied. Wary to not rip or tear them, she added more packing to the wound. Sula spat the bit out, panting in a cold sweat. The transfusion was beginning to return some color to her drained face. She looked pale. Sickly.
She looked like she was going to cry again.
"Hey...hey, it's okay," Aero consoled. "You're alive! You're gonna make it!"
The Medic shook her head, sniffing.
"What's wrong? Are you hurt somewhere else?"
Equal parts stress and delirium, she nodded, sniffing.
"Where?"
Her weary, bloodstained hand tapped at her chest.
Aero looked around, seeing the spent adrenaline shot.
"That's from the needle, Sula. It kept you alive."
She shook her head, tapping still.
Aero looked to Kazak, confused.
"What's...what's that mean?"
"I'll explain later, it's complicated." He started clawing his way back across the floor to his helmet and threw it to Aero, as well as a pole as he made his way back to his rifle. "I need you to take that and use it as bait. Hold it up just under the edge of the window. That jackass shoots it, I'm going to find it and nail him."
Looking between Kazak and Sula, she scooted closer to do just that. She wasn't out of the woods yet. She needed more blood still before she'd be comfortable with leaving her to recover. Grimacing as she essentially slid across the blood-stained concrete to marr her uniform further, she snatched up the helmet and offered stick.
"Alright...decoy goin' up now." She informed, lifting the helmet with the stick to be visible.
He stared across the field through his scope, falling into position, taking deep breaths and slowing his heart rate. Just as expected, another shot rang out and he saw a visible figure. One of the Vortians who had to uncloak to fire the sniper rifle without losing suit energy. It was all Kazak needed, a few clicks to his scope judging for range and he fired five shots in rapid succession. Very unlike him as a sniper but he needed to have several follow ups to stop a suited Vortian.
Aero winced as the mass-accelerated slug obliterated Kazak's helmet and knocked the stick out of her hands, showering her in broken, gnarled metal, polymer, and padding. She heard Kazak's response in a series of aimed shots.
"You get him?" She queried, keeping an eye on Sula as she switched blood bags. One more. "...startin' to feel woozy from this."
Kazak stared out of his scope, seeing the sniper motionless and his rifle falling to the floor of his nest. "Yeah, that got him." He made his way back out, crouching to stay out of view as he slung his rifle across his back. "Just one more, Aero. I can't have both of you down on me. For all we know we're going to have some of those bastards make their way up here now." He prepared his plasma SMG just in case. "Where the fuck are the others?"
"Long version or the short version?" She began with, using up the final blood bag as she watched it fill. "We've all seen how crafty they're getting...getting all of us into one place at the same time smells like a trap. They're watching to make sure no one comes in after us…"
She paused, looking at Sula with a pained expression.
"...we can't move her, not like this. We gotta wait until she's stable. After this last blood bag and some rest, the PAK will do the rest."
"Well that's just fucking swell," Kazak got on the radio, "Cobalt, reorient, need you to cover our sector. Possible enemy movement, use thermal vision. Need to move into a defensive posture. I've got one seriously wounded, one down from giving medical assistance. Not in a good situation."
"Copy Deadeye, I'll relocate to provide cover and watch your sector."
"Good, and watch out, these guys are using railguns. Likely the Type Thirty Eight."
"Understood."
Kazak sighed and pointed to an empty office behind the one he chose to set up in. "At best, move her in there. No view to where the sniper was."
The First Sergeant gave a nod, yanking the needle out of her arm with a wince as she carefully lifted Sula to carry her with Kazak's help. Wary to not aggravate her wound further, they moved around the office.
"Here, hold her for a second…" She insisted, carefully passing off full control to him as she unceremoniously swept the desk's contents off into the floor before returning to pick up Sula's feet. "Watch her head, lay her flat."
Relieved that they transferred her without incident, Aero sighed heavily.
"Just...keep an eye on her. I'll clean up the mess in the hall and move our kit."
"Stay low in case there's another of those assholes out there. Just get our shit, forget the mess of blood for now." He moved over to Sula's side, pulling over one of the chairs and sitting next to her. He heaved a loud sigh, "At least you're going to be fine in a while once the PAK kicks in."
"-cuz of you." She dryly answered, weak.
"I've seen enough spotters die on me. At least I could do something about you and prevent that." He leaned back, about to rub his face but seeing it covered in blood and just shook his head instead. Every rookie mistake in a sniper's book she just made...and it's no wonder why he really preferred working solo. "Aero, you going to be all right to stay with her? If there's one, there's more, and I may need to go hunting."
"No, you need to stay here. With us." She emphasized, bringing in the last of their equipment. "Why go out there and stir up more trouble? You got the one that shot her, right? Leave it be. Your other sniper buddies have you covered and Vult and the others are watching the entrance to this place. Relax."
"Don't-"
Aero looked to Sula as she tried to speak, leaning closer.
"Don't what?"
"Let-...let'im."
Kazak shook his head, "Listen, I didn't just crawl my way through a fuckton of blood and save her just so we could all get knocked the fuck off, all right? I need to go hunt these idiots. If they're this far out of the zone, they're probably going to try to nuke the whole place. You hear what I'm saying? I'm not letting all of us and those suicidal morons get blown to shit." He started moving for his gear in the next room, intending on taking the fight to the SIS, if it was them, and he had a hunch it was.
"What's your deal?" Aero pursued of him, caught between confused and annoyed. Irritable, mostly. "Why the rush? You don't even have any idea where the rest of them are or how many of them there are to begin with. Why are you in such a hurry to go get yourself killed?"
"Because that power plant is their objective. They intend to breach it either by the underground routes or the front door." He picked up any equipment he needed, stuffing them into various pockets. "I didn't survive Praxxus and those other operations before and after just to get blown the fuck up on Vort because their intelligence people are sore losers, and I'm not about to let my friends get blown up either." He stopped, looking up at Aero, "Just do this, all right? Somebody's gotta find where these bastards are and maybe I can call in a heavy storm for them."
Aero heard him fully and watched him scurry about to pack and prepare to leave. She couldn't leave Sula alone. Not in her condition...and he shouldn't have either, but he seemed dead set on it. When he stopped to reinforce as much, the normally-upbeat, cheerful pink eyed woman shook her head.
"Sure. I got this." She huffed, waiting until he turned and was about to leave the room. "...for the record...you aren't the only one that suffers. Get over yourself and join the rest of us in reality. Good hunting, by the way."
Kazak only stopped to shoot a glance over his shoulder and heaved a sigh, headed up to the roof. "Bolt, Cobalt, Smoke, you hear me? Going to look for these guys myself."
Mizak came on after a few short moments of silence, "You sure that's a good idea?"
"Fuck no. But if these guys are cloaked, maybe I can force their hand. You still got your sector Bolt?"
"Yeah...and Deadeye…"
"Yeah?"
"Don't get yourself killed over something stupid."
"Wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of that if I can help it." That's when he took off in a run, jumping to the next roof over to start his hunt for the other SIS operatives out there.
Vult, with the rest of the team, had posted up after hearing the commotion. High-caliber gunfire. Snipers, more than likely. The radio chatter had ceased. As did the exchange of gunshots. He didn't like the silence or being kept in the dark.
"Kazak, Aero, sit-rep," He channeled through his comms. "Talk to me, what's going on over there?"
"Uhh...right...sit-rep…" Aero muttered, putting her thoughts together as she maintained vigilance over Sula. Even if she was stable and on the mend, she checked her pulse and other vitals nevertheless. "Sula is...stable. She'll make it. She's hurt though."
"And you?"
"A few liters of blood shy of a full tank, but green otherwise, Sir- hey, don't move, lay down. Rest." She hot-miked, interacting with Sula's insistence to sit up.
"The Lieutenant?"
An annoyed huff from Aero.
"Leaving our position. Should see him exiting shortly." She informed, going a step further. "Commander, I don't know what these two were talking about up here before Sula went down, but he's got his head far up his c'hurta. He's not listening to sense."
About that time, the man in question exited the building up above, going on the move.
"I'm aware." He sighed. "Sit tight with Sula. Keep me posted."
"Yes, Sir." Aero concluded.
Vult turned to address the remaining members of the team present: Hesa, Rha, and Vard.
"Corporal," he began to delegate, pointing to the gauss cannon assembled at their location. "Stay here, keep this thing warmed up and primed. Rha, Vard, on me...we need to make sure Kazak doesn't get himself killed. Let's go."
"Right…" Hesa sighed, "be careful out there." She headed up the stairs to man the gauss gun. Rha made sure his weapon was ready as he followed Vard and Vult to chase after Kazak while he traversed the rooftops.
"Sir, I hate to ask this, but do we need to consider him a threat to us and react accordingly?" He wasn't asking out of any sort of malice but legitimate concern for a squadmate. "He's not going to attack us if we try to stop him, is he?"
"Only threat he presents is to the enemy and himself. More the latter than the former at the current," Vult summarized as they double-timed to catch up to the marksman in question. "Just keep your eyes peeled and watch our six. Already had a sniper almost take Sula down. We're not alone out here."
Kazak's first stop was to make his way over to the sniper he recently dispatched. Examine the corpse, see if he can't get any intelligence off of him. Maybe even get a closer look at that sniper rifle he was using...moving across rooftops, blown out windows and rubble strewn halls, eventually making his way over and down the steps. He knelt down and went over all the pouches, removing any ammunition, explosive, and weapon he found for his own use all the while looking for anything that could give him a hint towards the location of the others.
Vult, Vard, and Rha moved in unison. Evenly-spaced, bounding from cover-to-cover as they had practiced countless times before in the simulators aboard the ship and in the realm of reality. Their outlines were barely a shimmer thanks to their cloaks, but they were not foolproof. The technology, regardless of its advancement, was detectable with the right equipment. That meant to not stand idle for too long in the open.
The team nestled into the rubble of a collapsed building spilling into the street. Vult's right hand came up, signaling for them to hold and regroup.
"Rha," Vult gestured, signaling for him. "Keep watch."
"On it, Sir." He obeyed, switching positions with him as the Commander slid down the rubble to Vard's position.
"Patch me through to General Vaukt, ASAP."
Vard nodded and punched in the frequency for Vaukt's secure line and patched it through to Vult's radio. After several moments of waiting, a voice picked up on the other end, "Commander, I hope you have some good news for me…"
While they did that, Kazak dropped his issue rifle for the Vortian's T38 mass accelerated sniper rifle and added a similar model pistol to his equipment, stashing the ammo packs. He found a small tablet, it gave him a clue. Four streets over...that's where he needed to be. Off he went once again to look into that lead.
"Negative, General," Vult opened with, remaining focused as he looked around, wary of their surroundings. "I have a man down, another MIA, and only four that are combat-effective at this point in time in the AO. Whatever assets you have in Sector 1, I need reinforcements, over."
"Hold the line," Vaukt's reply came with a long pause following that. He was looking through his assets in the area. Vard's equipment received four additional frequencies sent over by Vaukt. "I have four squads in your immediate location. Sent your man their frequencies. It gets any worse out there, you're going to have to call in the line infantry."
"We can work with that, Sir. I may not need replacements yet," he added off-the-cuff as Vard began inputting the frequencies into his equipment in preparation to transmit. "Vult out."
"Orders, Sir?" Vard queried.
"Work your magic, Sergeant," He opened with, taking up his rifle once more. "Whichever of those teams is closest, I want them retasked to assist under my authority. Send coordinates."
"Yes, Sir." He nodded, going to work.
The closest team was four streets over, exactly where Kazak was headed. From Vult's position, he could hear a gunfight starting. Hypersonic cracks of mass accelerated firearms and Irken plasma carbines in a back and forth. The squad of six Spec Ops happened to be in the path of three SIS operators. Kazak himself made his way to a roof and prepared himself to open fire if he had to, still a fair two blocks away from the action.
About the time Vard made contact with the nearest team through the list offered by Vaukt, the still air was shattered with the exchange of gunfire echoing through the hellscape of a battlefield. Close, but not terribly so. Their acute hearing zeroed in on it. Vortian weapons. Irken weapons. Definitely a firefight of some scale.
"There's our answer," Vult reasoned, standing up to start taking off in a run. "On me, let's go!"
"Where are they?!"
"I don't know!"
"Over there!" The squad leader pointed out to one of the SIS operatives poking out of cover with an assault rifle, firing a burst right at him, prompting the man to duck back into cover as slugs whizzed over his head. "Get a grenade out there!"
One of the spec ops soldiers hurled a frag grenade, only for it to be kicked down the street where it exploded mid air, far away from them and the Irken alike.
"We gotta get out of here, Sarge!"
"I know, I know!"
The sniper narrowed his sights on one of the operatives, concealed from the Irken but exposed to him from the side. He held his breath and pulled the trigger, the sniper rifle's loud crack rang out and slammed into the Vortian, causing him to hit the wall and grip where he was hit. Though the suit stopped the slug, the force of it came through as it drained the suit's power reserves.
"Right flank! Sni-" the second shot cut him off and hit him in the chest, more specifically the right lung, sending him down.
One of the operatives cloaked and moved in, the other keeping the Irken suppressed. Unknowingly flanked, the SIS operative uncloaked and hosed the six Irken down with everything left in his magazine. He walked forward, towards the squad leader who tried to draw his sidearm despite his injuries, only to be finished with a few shots from a handgun at close range.
"Find that sniper!"
"But sir, Nails, we-"
"Forget him."
"Yes, sir."
Kazak slid back and went on the move once more. He knew he needed to relocate or he'd be an easy target. The last thing he wanted to have happen.
Vult, leading the charge as the trio sprinted towards the raging engagement, watched as the team they were moving to rendevouz with was promptly flanked by a lone operative. Skidding into cover and using it as a brace, he opened fire on the Vortian target.
"Vard, we need bodies here, ASAP!" He called over his own fire before switching channels. "Kazak, talk to me. Where are they?"
The Vortian in question took a few hits, firing at the trio of Irken with his handgun as he backpedaled into cover and holstered his sidearm, reloading his rifle and then cloaking to relocate to a different piece of cover. "Firefly, find that sniper!"
"What about you, VX?"
"I got this." He uncloaked and fired several bursts before cloaking and moving again.
Rha growled and opened his grenade launcher, loading in one of Vard's prototype grenades and closed it again. "Could really use that location, sir."
Kazak finished moving to a different building, a corner apartment above a blown out grocery store. He looked through his scope as the Vortian uncloaked again. "Two hundred meters, near the wrecked car on your right."
Rha heard the transmission and popped up to fire his launcher, right as VX popped up and fired a burst, grazing the man's helmet and sending him to the ground. But the grenade hit its mark, an electrical field forming stunning him and draining his suit energy, leaving him vulnerable.
"Solid hit," Kazak came on before the door flew off the hinges, flying out the window as a female Vortian came in. "Oh shit."
"Come here!" She moved to hit Kazak with the butt of her rifle, the sniper diving past her and making his way down the hall. "No you don't!" She chased after him, her speed enhancement giving her an edge in catching up to him. Grabbing Kazak by his PAK and hurling him down the hall.
He groaned in pain, feeling it somewhat dislodged by her sheer strength and quickly worked to reorient itself. She then picked him up and bashed him back against the wall.
"Where did you get that rifle, you son of a whore?!" No answer, another slam, "Where?!"
"Your idiot friend."
Yet another slam. "You killed him?! I'm going to enjoy ripping your guts out!"
Vult kept on the trigger, keeping fire downrange at where he believed them to be before Kazak narrowed down their proverbial search. The SIS operative, clad in black, shifted into view and returned fire despite the trade back and forth. Scarily accurate as he sent a jettison of molten slag, dust, and debris into Vult's field of view. Even with his helmet sealed and visor closed, it hindered his sight, forcing him into cover.
"Vard!" Vult growled over the din of battle, taking the opportunity to change power cells and top off. "Backup! Now!"
Hearing the news of Rha's direct hit after the hollow thump of his grenade launcher sending a shell downrange, he popped back up. Sure enough, the Vortian clad in black armor was amidst seizing up.
Drawing a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Vult steadied his aim before squeezing off a single round. The plasma bolt struck the Vortian in the head, his body collapsing with a fresh, smoldering hole through his visor.
"Target down!" The Commander relayed, trying his comms again. "Kazak, sit-rep! Give me a count, direction, anything from up there."
Rha got up in time to see the door fly out of a nearby building, slamming into the ruins across the street before falling to the surface level, groaning. "I think it's safe to say that might be his location, sir." His helmet was shredded where the slug went through, but it kept him alive, that much mattered.
"Damn it," Vult growled, weighing his options. "Corporal, stay here with Vard, get one of those teams here yesterday."
With that, the Commander took off in a sprint for the building where the commotion was taking place. Kazak had to have been there and no one else present had the strength to send a solid metal door flying like that. Likely one of the SIS operatives and the equipment they were warned about by Mizak and his team.
Inside the building, Firefly kept slamming the sniper against the wall. Kazak felt himself slipping in and out of consciousness until a mechanical click sounded. Firefly looked around, seeing nothing. "Show yourself!"
A Vortian uncloaked, fully suited, with a single action revolver aimed right at her head.
"You shouldn't be here, Ohnmatu, get back to base-" Just then, the loud blast of a handgun, followed by another click as Ruk fired another blast into her. Firefly dropped Kazak and fell to the ground, writhing in pain. He strode over and fired a third shot into her head at practically point blank range. He then turned his attention to the Irken, pistol trained on him and thumb on the hammer.
"So, vhat is your name?"
The sniper coughed, blood coming out and splattering on the ground and the dead Vortian in black. "K-Kazak."
Ruk lowered his pistol and extended a hand, "Bruvka mentioned your name. Said you vere one of the ones ve could trust."
The sniper looked up and took his hand, the suited Vortian helping the Irken to his feet.
Vult heard the trio of gunshots as he rapidly closed the distance. Climbing the last set of stairs, he rounded the corner, weapon raised and scanning. Kazak. Irken. Down. Vortian. SIS. Down. Vortian...alive.
Training and intuition took over as his sights zeroed on the man standing over Kazak, ancient pistol in hand. His appearance alone matched that of "Spectre" - and he eerily looked identical to him.
"On the deck or in the holster." Vult ordered through his vox caster.
Ruk looked over, as Kazak rose to his feet with his help, slipping the revolver back into his holster.
"Vult...no…" He coughed, aching from the beating he was given, "Rub here saved me."
"Rub?" Ruk looked at him, "You think I'm my bruvka? I'm quite flattered, but no, I am not him." The Vortian removed his goggles and mask, revealing an extremely similar face.
"Could've fooled me…" Kazak said before coughing some more. Trying to take a step before staggering and falling on one knee.
"Ve're twins. My name is Ruk." His attention turned to Vult. "You must be a friend of his if you haven't shot me yet. You know vhat is at play?"
Relieved he wasn't about to be forced into shooting more Vortians than necessary, he lowered his rifle, deactivating his sealed visor and mask with a huff before moving past Ruk to render aid to Kazak.
"Damned idiot," he muttered under his breath, securing his medical supplies as he looked over at Ruk. "You alone out here? What about SIS?"
"Me? Yes. Vhen bruvka told me vhat was going on, I couldn't sit around. So...I vent out...ironic, I never thought I vould hunt my own people." The Vortian huffed and shook his head. "They have a plan. Blow the airfield as a diversion, small counter-attack nearby to distract them further, but a feint. They vant to blow the plant, and I overhead talk that they are sending one to deal vith Grimm personally."
Kazak coughed, broken ribs and a bruised neck, from the treatment he received.
"The others are preparing the civilian evacuation, and our own exit strategy. The boss is tired of being toyed around by these people. He's villing to violate their orders, so long as ve stop this madness and escape. He intends to inform Admiral 'Narr personally about their dealings."
"We're aware," Vult left vague on purpose for their sake and his own as he pushed around on Kazak's side, finding the suspect bone. "This team was a diversion? Where's the one going to the plant?"
Getting purchase on the protrusion, the Commander sharply and unkindly shoved it back into place. They lacked the time or courtesy of mitigating pain proper.
"We can stop them, I just need intel."
Ruk pulled up a map from a hologram projector that Static gave him. "Twelve of them. These four vere the diversion. I know of these three."
After getting over the loud groan, gnashing of teeth, and slamming his fist against the wall from the pain, Kazak took several breaths, "I got the fourth."
"Good man," Ruk pointed to the small river to the north of them "They intend to infiltrate through here. Gain access to the power plant through this river feeding the coolant. I vas just heading there after dispatching these four."
"Why the div-" Kazak coughed, "diversion first?"
"They vere the secondary. If the primary team failed, these four vould infiltrate via underground and continue the plan."
Vult looked at the map and listened to the information being relayed as he withdrew an epipen of painkillers and stimulates. Using his teeth to uncap it, he spat it out before unkindly pushing Kazak's head to the side at his neck to jab him with the needle and inject him before tossing it.
"There, on your feet, walk it off." He unceremoniously said, looking back to Ruk. "Copy that map and hand it off to me. You need to get out of here before they suspect. We'll handle it. Just get your team clear. I get the feeling this is going to kick off when we engage them and there's no stopping it. Tallum will fall."
"I vill tell bruvka," he looked at the device. "Uh… how do-"
"Give it," Kazak coughed still from the pain as he took the map, copying it over to a small device he had before handing it to Vult, the map copied down. "How do you not know how to do that?"
"I vas conscripted. Lived in the mountains as a loner before this nonsense."
Kazak blinked, "We need to talk one of these days."
"Gladly, if ve survive this."
"I think we will," Kazak coughed some more. "Thanks for the help."
"Just don't run around like an idiot alone again. Unless you get one of these." Ruk donned his mask once more and nodded to the two Irken, drawing his far more antiquated sniper rifle and moved to the roof, cloaking as he went.
Kazak meanwhile reached down, donning his ruined chest armor plating again and grabbing his commandeered Vortian sniper rifle. "We don't have anything watching that approach to the plant."
"I'm aware," Vult addressed, looking to him. "...you alright?"
"I just got slammed against a wall by some muscle suited Vortian about nine times…" he paused, spitting out some blood and gagging, withdrawing his canteen for some water to rinse his mouth out and spitting it out. "I've had better days."
"Not what I was referring to." He clarified. "When we get a moment, I want to talk about earlier. Right now, I need you focused and with us. Can you give me that?"
Kazak sighed as he drank some water before slipping his canteen back and shouldering the mass accelerated sniper rifle. "I don't have much of a choice if I can get ragdolled like that, do I?" The sniper headed back towards the stairs and down towards the ground floor rather than the roof. He yawned as the adrenaline from the fight wore off and fatigue overcame him, but he had to fight through it.
"No...I suppose you don't." Vult answered, following after him as he got back on the radio. "Vard, do I need to go find them myself or did they get lost? What's going on?"
"They're on their way, Sir."
"Better late than never." He reasoned. "Hail the Captain, Priority One."
"Yes, Sir. What's the message?" Vard inquired, preparing to take notes.
"Contact made with SIS. Actionable intel to intercept the team seeking entrance into the power plant. All hands on deck for this one. Coffee and stims all around, it's going to be a long one."
"Is that all, Commander?"
"For now. On my way down with Kazak. Vult out."
Kazak and Vult walked down the street. Vard and Rha seeing a more distant look on the man's face as he walked right past them. He started checking vehicles parked nearby, seeing if they were operational. He stopped at a small cargo truck, opening the door and going to work on it. As he got to work on that, four operatives arrived, one of them had his arm in a sling and a piece of rebar sticking out of it.
"Sergeant Caz and what's left of my squad reporting."
Rha looked them over, "What happened to the rest of you?"
"We ended up in a fight with a bunch of black armored goats. Ughnar there is lucky he isn't dead." Caz motioned with his head to the man with the rebar sticking out of his arm. "One of them just hurled him down the street. She...she was huge. I've never seen anything like her."
Vult and Kazak approached the gathering. The Spec Ops team they had demanded moments ago looked about as well as Kazak did. For better or worse, and missing numbers for a full team.
"Explains the delay." Vult summarized, garnering their attention. "Caz, was it?"
"Yes...Commander?" He spoke with confusion at the man's rank on his uniform despite his short stature. A Lieutenant, certainly, but a Commander? Strange. The Empire must be desperate.
"Your team is with me now. General Vaukt's authorization." He kept it brief while Vard and Rha appropriated transport. "We'll get your man medical attention in due time. I have the rest of mine gearing up to regroup with us. You'll get a rematch with backup this time."
"Understood, sir," Caz looked to Kazak, returning after directing Rha and Vard to the cargo truck he found that fit the bill. He seemed confused with his appearance, but he was clearly spec ops. "Who are you with?"
Kazak just stared at him, blankly, "Just shut up and listen to what he says." The sniper went over to a nearby ruined car and sat on the hood, resting his rifle across his lap to take a breather. Caz looked at Vult, confused at first, but nodding to him and directing the remains of his squad to wait near the transport.
"Classified, Sergeant. Just know we hunt the same quarry." Vult answered him, throwing the door open as Rha did his best to figure out the controls behind the wheel. "Just get settled in and take a breather. Might be the last one for a while."
He looked to Rha, pointing out the busted out windshield.
"Back to our overwatch position."
"Yes, Sir." He nodded, interfacing with the odd arrangement of pedals and gears. This was Aero's specialty.
"Vard!"
"Sir!"
"Tell Hesa to move to Aero's position and prep her for extract. Be ready for us."
"Yes, Sir."
Caz and his squad hopped in the back. Kazak himself lingered outside the truck for a few more moments, looking around before climbing in and grabbing hold of a nearby rail as they started off. The sniper stayed quiet, not even bothering to say a word. It took somewhat longer than usual with a few detours, but they reached their overwatch position after several minutes, with Hesa, Aero, and a still healing Sula waiting for them. Hesa helped Aero load their medic before tossing the technician her shotgun and climbing into the back with her PRC across her back. All the while, Kazak still stayed quiet, Hesa putting a hand on Vult's shoulder and giving him a nod and a smile, glad to see him in one piece.
Aero, covered in Sula's blood still from the incident earlier on, rounded the truck after making sure she was secure in the back.
"Where's your medic, Commander?" Caz queried, looking to his own wounded man across from him.
"The critical one we just loaded up."
"...oh." He sighed.
The tall, willowy female stepped up on the truck's side, banging on the driver's door for Rha to open.
"What?" He asked, opening it.
"Look out. Scoot." She insisted, all but pushing him out of the seat. "I heard you grinding every tooth off the flywheel on the way over here. I got this."
"Fine, jeez," He huffed, opting to stand between the front seats, bracing his hands on the top of the cab.
For a moment, Aero smiled. Something that wasn't all doom and gloom. Just a plain, simple, piece of operable machinery. Her domain. Feeling right at home, she throttled up before clutching and shifting smooth as silk and taking off.
"Not exactly a VDF-tagged vehicle, Commander," She summarized, navigating the landscape, picking up speed when safely to do so as they rumbled along. "...might want to make sure none of the Empire regulars open fire on us when we get back to friendly lines!" Vard sent a message out about their vehicle coming through. While there may have been a few rifle blasts, incoming fire from Saro's men was minimal thanks to the advance warning.