Lions in Blue and Silver

The story of why it isn't five by five, and Shepard's dad.

Ahern glanced around the shuttle, and grimaced. "Alright, what we got?"

The situation was not as grim as it could have been, but it wasn't good either, in Ahern's opinion. It had taken Leng almost a full thirty minutes to disarm the cheap but lethal frag mines under the corpses of the slain Marines around the shuttle. While Saracino had kept watch, occasionally shooting something in the distance, Ahern had dug graves in the sloppy earth himself and buried all the dead Marines.

In the middle of this, large and loud explosions had sounded far to the east, which Ahern could only assume were Alliance forces kinetically bombarding the main drop region to kill EAGL terrorists. Those blasts were at least thirty kilometers away and were still powerful enough to stir slight breezes a few minutes later.

Ignoring that, he'd finished the graves, while the team worked on the shuttle or fieldstripping the dead. The haul had been a godsend, as they found armor patches, tools, medkits, scopes, and a set of scouting binocs Leng had immediately appropriated.

Going through the dead Marines' packs had thankfully been free of finding personal possessions, and they had rearmed themselves and taken what supplies they could. The team seemed to have been a heavy scout unit with a medical focus, and Chu had been able to fix up his drones while Kahlee and Kyle were able to do a bit more first aid, including a proper full sling for Richard's arm.

Anderson, along with some minor assistance from Chu at some points, was able to bring the shuttle's engines online and get it hovering, although said engine was making a distressing amount of noise that didn't sound exactly healthy. He'd shut the shuttle down, and now Ahern was pondering his next moves, given he had a semi-working shuttle and a fully armed pair of teams again.

He laid his paper map down on the shuttle's decking and knelt. "Alright, decision time. Or at least, input time. Assuming the shuttle GPS isn't fucked, we're here. We somehow missed the 441 highway – maybe it got eaten by the swamp – but we're just north of it. We have a shuttle with enough fuel and range – call it forty-five kilometers or so – to get us to several locations."

He pulled out a marker and made an 'X' on the map. "OpFor remains unknown in deployment and numbers. Saracino saw EAGL jackasses coming from the north and east here. Makes no sense if they're operating out of Valdosta, plenty of sense if the fuckers are somewhere in Waycross. If they're in Waycross, they'll have the entire northern sections under watch, so any northward travel is out."

Kyle narrowed his eyes. "Why would the EAGL avoid Valdosta to set up in Waycross? It seems, while ruined, to offer more substantial shelter from rads and armada storms than the ruins of Waycross."

Ahern shrugged. "Dunno. And it's possible that Waycross is an outpost – they may be in both places." He exhaled. "Comms are out, so we don't know what's going on and we can't send a message. Our range is unknown, but we can definitely fly the shuttle a good fifty or sixty kilometers. That puts our hard limits for distance smack dab in the Atlanta Exclusion Zone to the north, and right into the Apalachicola Delta expanse in the west." He gestured to the harsh red hashing over that region. "Both of which, like the approach to Jacksonville, are a no-go due to heavy rads.

"That leaves us with two options: head to Valdosta and hope to find parts to repair comms with there and/or take out any EAGL, or circle pattern to find another downed shuttle and cobble together what we can."

Leng nodded. "Given the condition the shuttle is in, and the fact that we don't know if it is crawling with EAGL – or already looted of any useful parts – flying it right at Valdosta seems… risky."

Pel muttered. "Mo' like goddamned suicide on a hunch."

Ahern only smirked. "The third option is heading back the way we've already come, and linking up with more survivors. Given the Alliance just bombed the shit out of the region, at least some other Marines had to have survived and are headed in our direction. If we get enough of them together we'll be too tough for EAGL to take on in dribs and drabs…"

Chu smiled. "And have the manpower to investigate Valdosta, or Waycross. Workable, boss."

Anderson grimaced. "We either go straight into the possible lion's den, or back towards what may be friendly reception or may be a mass of EAGL soldiers. Iffy odds either way, Captain – I don't like our options limited that sharply."

Ahern shrugged. "That's what command is all about, Lieutenant. It's why we're in the Solguard. I don't see us getting the hell out of this swamp any other way unless we stay put and wait for rescue, which is going to fucking take days and days."

Anderson held up a hand, his features taut, but also tired looking. "And I am not arguing that. But the shuttle makes us a target, either way we go. EAGL may have shot their bolt with that EMP, but we don't know that – and how they figured out the Alliance was planning to do a top secret trial here is also troubling, as Corporal Florez pointed out."

Ahern wished he could remove his helmet to rub his temples. "You have a good alternative, Lieutenant, or you just playing fucking devil's advocate?"

Kahlee frowned. "What he's saying, Captain, is it's a big risk either way, but it's a bigger risk if Valdosta is hot, or if EAGL has a traitor in Alliance Command. If they're coming out of Waycross and that's out, isn't there anywhere in the shuttle's range clear of rads where we could hole up?"

Ahern studied the map, then shook his head. "After you clear the swamp it's mostly flats and slight hills. Line of sight for klicks and klicks in all directions. If we can just get the goddamned antenna fixed on this piece of shit, it all becomes academic – we can call in for a pick-up, and have them hone in on us by radio beacon, moving around if need be just in case EAGL overhears or is given a tip."

The blonde folded her arms. "In that case, I recommend we go east and try to find more Marines. We may find another shuttle, after all, and it's less of a risk than going into possibly a hostile area we have no information about."

Ahern shrugged. "Kyle, tactical assessment?"

The big man returned the shrug, facial expression dubious through the clear faceplate. "Hard to say. We're dealing with an extreme paucity of data. I would, however, prefer to err on the side of caution. Even if Valdosta is not overrun by EAGL, there's no hard guarantee it would have the parts we need. Whereas one of the shuttles, by means of probability alone, must have useful parts for our own shuttle. There can be no possible friendlies at Valdosta; if we head east, we might find some."

A few seconds of silence and Ahern's thinking was broken by Saracino firing, twice. "Whatever you idiots do, make up your minds. The corpses are attracting more and more wildlife. If some mutant alligator shows up I'm not sure this popgun will stop it."

Anderson met Ahern's gaze. "Your call, Captain. My team would, I think, prefer east to west, and it sounds like yours would as well."

Ahern nodded. "Fine. In that case, get this bird in the air, and except for Leng and Richards, strap in. You two, hatch duty. Whoever is driving this shitbuggy, head east as best you can on a curved zig-sweep pattern and keep us just above the tree line."

Anderson nodded to Pel. "You're up. See what you can do, but carefully. She handles pretty rough."

Pel cackled. "All the best bitches do, LT." He stood, and, entering the cockpit, gingerly eased into the pilot's seat while everyone else strapped in, tapping controls and flipping switches.

"Lesee… Fuel systems… fucked. Nav plot… fucked. INS, fucked. Core? Partially fucked." He frowned at the main display. "ADS controls… fucked." He slammed a part of the console with his fist, which flickered and then lit up. "ADS controls working. Shuttle Shitbuggy is a go."

Saracino arched an eyebrow. "Chu, you have a percussive engineering challenger."

The Chinese officer sneered. "I'm amazed you can even pronounce 'percussive,' Mike. Been reading the dictionary or something?"

The sallow faced sniper gave a smirk. "Just working out my tongue, you know."

He waggled his eyebrows and leered at Rachel, who blew him a kiss. Kyle groaned and Kahlee looked intrigued.

Ahern stared fixedly at the floor. "…What I did to get lumped in with you pack of disgraceful fuckups I will never know."

Saracino snorted. "Beside banging the daughter of a senator and having pictures of her naked in your pool splashed all over the news? Karma, my friend."

Ahern glared. "If there's any karma you'll be killed by someone who's worse at puns than you."

"Ha! Not fucking possible. I am the best." He paused. "You know why bicycles can't stand up? They're two-tired."

Leng glanced at him, then back at Ahern. "Permission to—"

Ahern snorted. "Ask me once we're out of this mess, Chief. Might take you up on that."

Pel touched several more controls and then lifted the control stick, and the shuttle pulled up. "Alright, in flight. We're… way out of the pipe, nineteen by six, and shifting." As he spoke, the shuttle gave a sickening lurch to the right, then readjusted. "Nineteen by seven. Fuckin' cheap-ass minimum wage fuckers musta built this gyro out of Cheese Whiz."

The hatch door was still open, with the massive form of Richard across from it, minigun leveled. Kai Leng stood at the hatchway – harness clipped to the seat to let him lean out – and scanned with his looted pair of handheld binoculars.

Chu kept fiddling with the damaged electronics panel at the back of the shuttle, trying to adjust and repair something, while the rest just sat and waited in awkward, tired silence. After about ten minutes, Ahern realized Florez had slumped into sleep and was gently resting against his shoulder.

He gave another sigh, thinking of another woman he'd much rather have on his shoulder.

The green, tangled muck of the swamp rolled by in slow review as they moved east, large sections of muck-laden water framed by stands of slowly rotting trees in some areas, a thick canopy of mutated and twisted plants and vines covering other areas entirely.

After almost twenty quiet minutes, Kai Leng stiffened, and spoke in a harsh whisper. "EAGL forces… call it three klicks. Or four. Heading westish, five ABCs with them. They have captives."

Ahern closed his eyes and balled his fists. "Goddammit. How many of the fuckers?"

The Chinese soldier did not lower the binocs. "Perhaps thirty. Possibly more. Flankers, maybe in the trees. At least a dozen captives." He paused. "…Make that seven ABC robots. Have these criminals hacked every old Manswell bot in the entire southeast?"

Anderson frowned. "The hell is EAGL up to? Why take hostages? Why even pull this fucking stunt? The Alliance does not negotiate, ever, and it isn't like they are going to pull out of America."

Chu closed the panel he was working on as the internal lights flickered on. "I doubt very much that General Logain gives a shit. EAGL are the types of people who cannot or will not adapt, and see themselves as heroic. Personally, I think we should napalm the entire area, but given the ecological damage we already have, that's not practical."

Ahern wished he could spit. "In other words, don't ask why batshit crazies do batshit crazy things?"

Saracino gave a dark glare out the hatch. "Given who you're dealing with – and the amount of defective genetic material in the South even before the War – the answer for why they are taking live captives probably includes the phrase 'thems good eatins' somewhere in the logic."

Anderson paled and looked ill, while Kahlee spat an angry curse word. "I wouldn't put anything past those animals."

Soon enough they were out of sight, now skimming over the wider open brackish ponds. More than once Ahern could see something dark and thrashing in the water below, and found himself glad they'd not stumbled into anything really nasty in the dark march earlier. After another ten minutes, Leng leaned forward, and a moment later he spoke.

"Possible contacts, Captain. I see… a downed shuttle. Bearing zero five five. Looks… intact." He hissed. "…It is under attack – no ABCs, but more than a few EAGL. Perhaps ten or eleven. Fire being returned from within the shuttle, but the firing angle is awkward."

Ahern glanced at Anderson. "Alright, we go in hard and fast. Give them no time to dig in, and set up a killing crossfire. No ABCs means we can do this. Just follow our lead."

Anderson looked alarmed, but Leng's voice continued. "From here the shuttle antenna looks intact. It will not remain so if EAGL continues to assault the shuttle."

Ahern nodded. "Lieutenant Pellham, take us in, bearing oh five five, low as you can go. Kyle, Saracino, form on Lieutenant Richards and prepare for fire for effect."

He stood himself, unhooking the harness and grabbing the handholds on the ceiling of the shuttle, as it banked sharply to the north. He could hear the popping sounds of older Spearman rifles and the more aggressive snapping booms of Lancers, and he squared his shoulders.

"Richards, lay down a line of fire in the middle of their group, and cover our landing. Florez, Kyle, on drop, flank and then a two-six arrow split. Saracino, snapshots. Pellham, once we drop, angle the shuttle out of their line of fire."

Kai Leng looked at him. "And Kahlee, Chu, and myself?"

Ahern flicked the safety on the rifle. "Stay in the shuttle in case we get shot to pieces, if that happens, good fucking luck." He grinned, and slapped Richard on his unwounded shoulder. "Fire."

The GE minigun gave a howl as it erupted, bullets tearing through the air and through the scattered, lightly armored figures surrounding the shuttle and taking cover behind trees. Six of the figures were caught in the open and just came apart, even as Saracino opened fire, killing another.

With a yell, as the shuttle swooped low, Ahern dove from it, coming out of a roll. He splashed into a shallow, filthy puddle of muddy water and slid into cover behind a narrow boulder of rusted iron ore. He checked his suit for a breach, and finding none, popped up and opened fire immediately. His burst struck an older, gray-haired EAGL soldier wearing a blanket poncho center mass, sending him to the ground, even as Florez and Kyle jumped after him.

Two EAGL gunners, holding clunky and out-of-date heavy machine guns using actual gunpowder bullets, moved to attack them, but a pair of finely aimed shots from the grounded shuttle killed them both. Kyle slammed into the cover of a tree, firing as he did so, clipping one EAGL goon in the knee and spilling him from cover.

Saracino's rifle ended his life a moment later, as Florez calmly shot two more.

With a yell of 'REPENSUM' the Marines aboard the shuttle – four in all – stormed out, firing shotguns and rifles. The last six EAGL soldiers, now caught in an ugly crossfire, tried to duck back further into cover, only to be harried by Richard's minigun and unable to move.

A few more shots and it was all over. The last EAGL fighter dropped his rifle with a cry as a burst from Florez shattered his face, and as he fell in the muck, a loud voice from the grounded shuttle barked out. "Marines! Cease fire."

Ahern repeated the order, then yelled. "Pellham, land the shuttle nearby. Area's secure."

He then turned his attention to the three men and one woman emerging from the shuttle in battered, muddied armor suits. The woman and two of the men had sergeant stripes and the markings of 5th Europa, while the leader was a lieutenant with a Solguard flash and the same symbol indicating he was in Europa's 5th Company. All of them were littered with badly patched wounds and poorly sealed suit breaches.

Ahern exhaled. "Captain Ahern, Solguard, assault. With us is Lieutenant Anderson, Thanas, scout. Looks like you had a nasty dustup."

The officer, a finely-featured black man with what was visible of his hair behind the helmet done in thin dreadlocks, nodded, his dark blue eyes unusual. His expression eased as he came to his full height. "That we did, Captain. Thanks for the save. Lieutenant Michael Shepard, Interdiction, Europa. Formerly NYC DIV Solguard. The other squad was a scouting squad… I can only presume, if these EAGL came on us out of nowhere, they must have run into problems."

Ahern nodded. "We've seen a lot of EAGL, and a lot of ABCs under their command. If your scout team is still out there, they may be dead or… worse. EAGL captured some of the Marines we've seen."

Shepard gave a frown. "Well, that's not going to end well for anybody. I see you have a working shuttle – any chance we could get a lift the fuck out of here?"

Ahern shook his head. "I wish. Our shuttle works – sort of – but it only has about a thirty-kilometer range, maybe less at this point. Damaged. And our comms are down. We were looking for other downed shuttles, for repair parts."

Michael Shepard jerked a thumb backwards. "Our comms are fine – but the VI is dead, so we can't transmit. Engines look busted, but without a VI we can't diagnose what's wrong except it won't fly."

Ahern exhaled. "If comms are up… what are you getting? Anything from Command?"

The Lieutenant grimaced. "It's… not good. Command advised us about three hours ago that the Commissars found six spies in the comms network people, and that it looks like someone leaked the exercise to EAGL just after that Warrant Officer checked the area out. High Command is furious and is routing a trio of cruisers to geosynchronous orbit, preparing to bombard Waycross and Valdosta in about an hour or so."

Saracino sniffed. "Good thing we weren't planning to head there, right, Captain?"

Ahern snarled. "Shut up, asshole." He exhaled. "Sorry, Lieutenant. You were saying?"

Shepard gave a thin smile, blue eyes narrowing in humor. "Right now, it's going to be at least twenty-four hours before they can send in relief shuttles. They're putting together an armored convoy in Jacksonville now along with some NBC trucks to try to breach the Jacksonville Break and get through the theta band rads to get us, but they don't know if that will work."

He glanced over his people, then back at Ahern. "Most of my people are pretty busted up, sir. None of us are really combat effective. What are your orders?"

Ahern smiled thinly. "First, we see if we can't fix up our comms. Then we see what Command has for is. And if they give us fucking stupid answers, we put our heads together and figure out a way out." He jerked a thumb toward his own people. "I've got two medics – let's get your people looked at. Saracino—"

"I know, I know. Watch for bad guys. Christ."