Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the characters, and the lawsuit they're filing is getting hot.
19:34, Day 10, 946.M41
Lead Corporal Coyne Bjerke
XCom Base bar
Coyne sat in the bar with Bob, his comrade Ansaldi Nadine, and a wounded but mobile Richard. He was swaying slightly and singing drunkenly. The other three were laughing, watching quietly and putting up with it respectively, but none were as inebriated as Coyne. It was a poorly kept secret that he couldn't handle his liquor nearly as well as someone of his drinking expertise would be expected to. It was the only time he used his height as an excuse. Richard seemed to be taking it easy on account of the Ockmann woman threatening him with further injury if he drank too much while under her care still. Bob was matching Coyne drink for drink, but just didn't seem to be getting any further than buzzed. Surprisingly, Nadine didn't seem overly affected either. Coyne didn't care much. He always drank for a little while after a comrade died- when he was off-duty, of course.
Coyne finished his song and beer in one go, belching lustily. "Aach, he was a good lad." Coyne slammed his mug on the table. "And I have never 'ad a better chicken in all my life. Me own mother could nary have cooked a better bird than the late Cpl. Brauhm." He wiped a tear from his eye in remembrance of the magnificent chicken. He turned a baleful eye on Richard. "He saved your life, ye ungrateful tosser, and you won't even drink to his name!" Coyne punctuated his statement by tipping his empty mug over his mouth, forgetting it was empty. He glared at it, and signaled haphazardly for another from the tender. Richard shook his head.
"Even if I desired to drink myself to blindness, I couldn't. I don't want to deal with Ockmann staring at me for another 5 straight minutes. Rarely have I felt so uncomfortable. That woman's eyes.." Richard shuddered slightly.
Coyne gestured vaguely. "Aach, well.. she was close with Brauhm. Yeh can't blame her. Ockmann just wants to make sure we all get through this OK, and I think she was reminded that she can't save everyone. So, she gets ter take it out on you." After this surprisingly insightful and coherent statement, Coyne's head swayed and slammed down onto the table. The drink he had previously ordered slid up and bumped his head lightly, to no reaction. As no one at the table moved, Bob shrugged and began to reach for it, but another hand reached it first- one riddled with scars.
The three remaining conscious drinkers both looked up at Lt. Ockmann, who was now holding the alcohol. She stared back severely. They all felt inexplicably guilty. She looked at Richard.
"Taking it easy, Lt.?" She asked evenly. Richard held his hands up.
"Get off my back, woman. With you breathing down my neck like this, I couldn't get drunk if I had every drop of booze at this bar," he grumbled irritably. He understood it was for good reason, but he hated the nagging.
"Glad to hear it." Ockmann gave no indication as to whether she had heard what Coyne had said. She grinned at their vaguely stressed expressions. "You guys shouldn't be so uptight." She tipped the mug back and quaffed the drink in one. She slammed it on the table, and turned around, walking out of the bar.
Richard looked at the other two, bemusement painted on his face. He quickly switched to a scowl. "Stop laughing, Bob. Come on; let's get this idiot to a bed."
07:11, Day 13, 946.M41
Lead Corporal Coyne Bjerke
XCom Base Munitorium
Coyne sat at a weapons table, looking over the sword Richard had lent him in case of deployment. He checked the power cell. It was in pristine condition, seeing as how Richard had only requisitioned it after being injured. The blade was sharp, even with the field down. Richard hadn't given him permission to modify the blade, so he grudgingly left it alone. The Inquisitor had denied him the same requisition. Seemed to think Coyne wasn't "responsible" enough. Bloody bastard. Looking back at the sword, his scowl softened into a more neutral expression. It seemed to be working just fine, so he sheathed it and left the room, nodding to the hulking female tech-priest overseeing the munitorium. She nodded back, with what might have been a smile. Coyne shook his head. Friendliest tech-priest he had ever seen. Weirded him out.
On his way out, the deployment alarm rang out shrilly. He flinched. He was still a bit hung-over from the night before. And the one before that. Oh well. He reported to mission control, double time. On the way, he met Cpl. Nadine. He rather liked the girl. Ansaldi did not speak when she didn't have anything to say, and never tried to stop him from talking- or at least didn't care. He liked that in a comrade. It also probably lent itself well to being stealthy, but Coyne had never bothered with that concern off the field. Regardless, he liked her. She listened to him, and knew her shit. She wasn't quite Maine Ockmann, but he was glad he had her as a comrade.
They entered the mission control center together. It was a hive of reports and shouts, guardsmen running across the room to deliver datapads and poking at a particular point on the holo-globe. The Inquisitor stood in the commander's position, mostly watching the proceedings impassively, receiving reports or giving orders as needed. Coyne and Ansaldi were the first two to arrive, but the rest of the on-call squad quickly filed in, Gabe the Ogryn barely fitting through the door. Bob grinned at Coyne as he walked in, a gesture he returned. The psyker and death corps. guy squeezed past the ogryn next. Coyne hadn't bothered to get to know either of them very well, which he now vaguely regretted. The Inquisitor wasted no time once the full ground team was present.
"Rebels have attacked a convoy of prisoners that we rescued from an abandoned heretic prisoner of war camp. We cannot allow them to be recaptured. They may have valuable information on the experiments similar to those carried out on the infamous 12th legion." He leveled a very serious gaze at them. "Their information is invaluable to our cause here. We need at least six of them for a reliable account. Your secondary objective is to subdue all rebel activity in the area. Dismissed."
08:47, Day 13
Lead Corporal Coyne Bjerke
Operation Broken Moon
As the Valkyrie touched down, Gabe barreled outside with a roar, his comrade barely restraining him from rushing off into the open on his own. Everyone else followed closely behind. Coyne looked around. They were in a derelict city, crumbling buildings all around. The rooftops were bristling with Korskian guards, and there were a number on the ground as well. He scowled. His first loyalty was to his comrades, and to the empire, but it was rough to fight his own people on his own planet. He shook off any doubts and drew his power sword, turning it on. Looking back, he saw Gabe toss Sgt. 'Gassy,' as Richard had dubbed the near-mute man in the gas mask, onto the nearest roof, so as to better utilize the souped-up multilaser he carried.
Coyne didn't pay too much attention to the rest of the squad, but sprinted towards the first unarmed guardsman he could see, taking cover behind a pallet and some rubble. Cpl. Nadine was hot on his heels, quiet and focused. They slid into cover beside the released prisoner, a few shots whizzing over their heads.
"Git yer skinny ass to the Valkyrie! We're about a block back, go!" He shouted over the shaken prisoner's questions. The man nodded and, when the gunfire around them lessened briefly, ran to the next spot of cover, making his way back to the ship. Coyne nodded, satisfied. Poking his head out, he saw that no one was paying him much attention. Multilasers struggled against missiles as the two heavy weapons vied for dominance. His other squadmates seemed to be spreading out and trying to save as many prisoners as they could, though the buildings they checked were empty more often than not. Bob in particular was running deep into enemy lines, causing mayhem wherever he went, followed more slowly by the massive Gabe.
Seeing a rebel ready his weapon on the area that his comrades were approaching, Coyne let out a snarl. Raising his sword, he charged out from his cover, screaming insults at the top of his lungs. Stealth had a time and place, he believed. He preferred to scare the living shit out of his enemies before he hit them- preferably by insulting their mother's promiscuity. Ansaldi evidently didn't agree, as she ran silently beside him with her chainsword held at the ready. The heretic turned towards them and fired a shot, but panic combined with the speed of their approach caused the laser to go wide. The guardsman brought his weapon up to parry, but Ansaldi knocked it out of the way with her sword, allowing her comrade the easy strike. He barely had a moment to scream before Coyne buried his weapon in his stomach. The burly scout then quickly whipped it out to strike his enemy's arm and leg in quick succession. The rebel dropped dead where he was, smoking from his wounds and the excess energy left by the power sword's field. Coyne took cover from further fire in the frame of the door. Ansaldi crouched down beside him.
After no follow-up shots were loosed- in their direction, anyway- they moved inside the building. There were two prisoners inside. "Come on yeh lumps, to our bird, double time. It's a couple of blocks down the road. Heads down, stay in cover. GO!" Coyne gestured furiously. The two former prisoners nodded understanding, and moved towards the door, waiting for a time to run. He glanced out the window. The battle raged on. Multilaser shots had almost demolished the top of the building across from the one Coyne was in, and the missile launcher was conspicuously absent. No one was watching for them. He glanced at Ansaldi. She looked at him steadily.
"Let's go dark." He said. She nodded, and they snuck to the other entrance of the building. Coyne was about to walk outside, when Ansaldi, without saying a word, grabbed the back of his belt and yanked hard, pulling him back a foot. He almost yelled at her, but saw where she was pointing. A heretic guardsman had been looking their way, either by coincidence or perception, and Coyne had almost walked right into his line of sight. The man shrugged and continued firing at some distant target. He was in range of a charge from Coyne, but the scout had bigger fish to fry. He wanted to get the guy with the missiles. He hated guys like that. No offense to good ol' Gassy with the multi-laser, but Coyne didn't like folks that took the high ground and then just lorded around with ranged weapons. They were his favourite silent takedown targets.
He and Ansaldi stole out the door as soon as the rebel looked away, and hid behind a small barricade. The morning light was still dim, but it would be more than enough for an alert guard to see them, even with their extensive stealth skills. Unfortunately, they had just crouched down and were waiting for a chance to get to the doors across the street, when the missile launcher toolbag stuck his damned head over the crenellations. It's hard to hide from a guy with the high ground, and Ansaldi accidentally kicked a loose can, drawing his attention. Not only did he radio his buddies, but he wasted no time in aiming his reloaded launcher directly at them. Coyne had barely enough time to give his comrade a withering look before diving as far as he could from the subsequent blast, she right beside him.
The fire and small shockwave hit them hard in the back, winding them, but doing no real damage. As soon as they were able, they scrambled to their feet and ran inside the door. They found themselves in a dilapidated hospital waiting area. The room was empty, so Coyne wasted no time in leading the charge up the stairs. As he reached the roof, however, he was just in time to watch a final few laser bolts tear through the rebels emplaced there. He swore loudly.
"Fer the love of the bloody Emperor, leave some fer me!" He sprinted to the edge of the roof nearest to where fighting was still taking place. His eyes widened slightly at the sight. Gabe was blocking the doorway of a squat building below, swinging wildly at anything that came near. As he watched, the massive creature reached into the building and grabbed a bloodied- but alive and kicking- Bob, taking him out of the building completely. Gabe then picked up the last prisoner alive and not yet safe and began lumbering away. A genestealer ran out of the building after him, snarling, but was torn to shreds by another round of multi-laser fire. Coyne wasted no further time in jumping to the ground, ready to take a swing at one of the few remaining rebels.
He and Ansaldi landed lightly, alert to any threats. A rebel ran at Coyne, shouting a challenge and waving a chainsword. "Fight me, then!" Coyne yelled with glee. He casually parried the incoming blow, shearing the heretic's weapon in two. Coyne laughed his great, booming laugh at the almost comical look of surprise on the man's face before striking the guardsman with a flurry of devastating blows, killing him nearly instantly. He turned away from the corpse to discern what his next objective was just in time to hear a massive explosion and witness a marvelous sight.
Gabe the ogryn was flying majestically through the air. It was no mere jump or leap, but an almost deliberate looking dive- if not for the look of disbelief on the big guy's face. Not to mention the spray of blood from the two bodies he was carrying. Coyne turned to cut down the man who had thrown the improbable explosive, only to see him taken down from range. With nothing further to kill, much of Coyne's expertise was useless, but he sprinted as fast as he could- which is saying something- to the side of those who had fallen.
There was nothing to be done for the unarmoured prisoner. They had been killed on explosion. However, the Commissar, despite bleeding heavily from at least three places, was not yet dead..somehow. (DEATH BY BLOod loss is herethy..) Coyne, using his survival skills, was able to help patch him up long enough to get him to the Valkyrie. Gabe, of course, got up from where he had fallen with hardly a scratch on him.
Inside the Valkyrie, Coyne counted the rescued prisoners to a backdrop of highly upset ogryn mutterings. Only five. He sighed irritably. That last grenade had cost them the mission. Coyne wished he had been faster. At least no one had died on their squad. When it came to hybrid and pure-strain xenos, he would take any small victory he could.
11:28, Day 13
Lead Corporal Coyne Bjerke
XCOM Base Mission Control
"Only five." The Inquisitor sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if to soothe a bad headache. "Well, we'll do what we can, but it's unlikely we'll get everything we need from just them. However, no one could have seen that grenade coming. The Emperor protect us against anything like that ever occurring again. Next time, focus more on getting the objective complete. And, do try a bit harder to keep Commissar out of the infirmary. I swear I will label a bed with his name. Dismissed!"
The tired ground crew shuffled out to hit the showers or go to the medical bay, whichever seemed more pressing. Coyne stayed behind, however. The Inquisitor met his challenging gaze and raised an eyebrow.
"Something you need, Lead Cpl.?"
Coyne winced slightly, but plowed on.
"Sir, can I have me own sword now? I ought to return Dick's, after all. And I hope yer convinced I'm decent with one by now." Coyne said this as boldly as he dared. It was somewhat like poking a dozing dragon, asking the Inquisitor a favour. However, it seemed the man was in fact giving his request real consideration. He nodded finally.
"Yes, I think that would do nicely, as I want you on the next mission as well. I'll have it sent to you before then."
Coyne was surprised, but pleased. "Thank you kindly, sir. And, ah.." Paullos looked at him once more, his patience evidently wearing thin.
"How is the search for Ockmann's new comrade coming? Only, she looks like she could use some help in the infirmary.." He trailed off. It was a lie, as Maine seemed to be coping just fine between herself, Thorne, and the man's comrade. But he was concerned for her nonetheless. It was rough not having someone specifically assigned to watch your back. The Inquisitor's eyes narrowed.
"We'll notify her when we find a suitable replacement. It is none of your concern either way. Now, Lead Cpl.. Dismissed."
Coyne had never walked so quickly in his life.
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