"Tuu, get your c'hurta back here, now!" Vult's voice screamed over the comm. channel. His commanding officer's voice was cut off as he closed the squad channel. On a mission and determined to protect his fellow squadmates, he placed that above even disregarding orders. Just from that single shot that narrowly missed Haxx, he knew exactly what they were dealing with.
A master marksman with an unobstructed line of sight and angle that put all of them in grave danger, if not for Haxx's own stupidity, he would have had his brains splattered all over the wall. Trifling with such a polished level of skill would be a costly and more than likely deadly mistake on their behalf.
"Sorry, Commander," he thought to himself in apology for ignoring Vult as he jogged down the narrow corridor several stories above the plaza, his attention immediately grabbed as the crack of the enemy combatant's rifle sounded again through the still air, promptly followed by a maelstrom of various plasma weapons opening fire. The chattering weapons belonged not to the Irken, but were synonymous to the standard issue kit that Vortian regulars used. Yet another issue to further compound their problems.
That heard, but unseen shot found its intended target.
Vard.
The plasma bolt shredded through his helmet, shearing the lower half of it off on the right side through the headphone piece that was part of the comm. array, sending molten shrapnel spraying and him twirling from the force of the impact into the fluid with a splash, unmoving. Aero loaded a fresh power cell into her rifle, seeing him laying face down. Her first thoughts weren't the most pleasant at the extent of the damage done.
"VARD!!!" Aero exclaimed as she attempted reach out for his collar, only to have Vult latch onto her own, stopping her short.
"You crazy, Aero?" He commented over the fray that felt as if the entire Vortian army was coming down on them all around. "Stay in cover or you'll get dropped next! Sula, check him!" Vult added, pointing to him.
"She'll get slotted just like he did, Sir!"
"It's a risk, but I'm banking on this guy's standards."
"Yes, Sir," Sula responded without question, setting her weapon down as she slid to a kneeling position beside Vard, out in the open.
Hesitant at rolling him over, she feared to find him no longer amongst them with a round clean through his head. Mustering the courage to do so and dedication to her duty, she did so…more than relieved at that as she breathed a sigh of relief.
Though his helmet was completely destroyed on the his right side, the bolt narrowly missed his actual head and left a grazing burn of charred flesh and shrapnel stuck in his face. Following her usual routine, she plugged into his PAK and began scanning vitals just to be sure.
"What's his status, M.O.?" Vult questioned as he squeezed off rounds at the assaulting Vortian forces across the plaza, a dead-man's land of nothingness with about 500 meters or so separating the factions embroiled in combat. Compassion was void in his voice due to the stress they were placed under at the moment, but the last thing he, nor any of them wanted, was to lose someone. Not only would it have been devastating to morale and the loss of a friend in a closely-knit unit, but dead weight to be hauled out. Shadow Strikers weren't like the Armada, they weren't about to leave anyone behind, no matter what. If need be, Vult would carry him out on his own back…he, as well as the entire unit, hoped that wouldn't be necessary.
"Vitals check out, Sir!" She exclaimed back with a hint or relief, ducking as rounds whizzed over her head, the fray growing more and more intense with each passing second, "he's unconscious, but stable!"
"Rub, take her out! You have a clean shot."
"No, comrade," he uttered as he watched through his sight as Sula was solely focused on Vard and went about her medical duties. "Irken or not, she is villingly putting herself into my sights to aid her squadmate, of vhich is commendable to say the least. I'll do the same and allow her to do so. Ve are in control, my friend, there is nothing to worry about." Rub'Akho assured, taking aim once more, "as I have taught you, awaiting the right moment to strike is very crucial. They are now pinned down by our allies and haven't a clue vhere ve are…a perfect combination for the hunt."
"Pull him into cover, see if you can bring him to!" The Irken Commander continued, attempting to keep a level head of the situation, but it was dwindling fast. "I need all our guns up and on those Vorts, now!"
She obeyed, hefting the smaller Irken out of Rub'Akho's view and behind the center of the fountain to where she was at.
"Captain, what are we looking at out there?"
"Unconfirmed, but between 4 to 6 squads of Vortian regulars and an armored vehicle, possibly and APC," Corr informed, ducking back in just as several plasma bolts peppered the area he was in the open at, "armed to the teeth and have the advantage, Sir."
"Advantage?!" Haxx exclaimed, loading another power cell into his plasma repeater, "try deathtrap! Pinned by sniper fire, can't advance or move to a better position because-" he was interrupted as part of the edge of the fountain was chipped away by a narrowly close shot, "…because of them, and there's a ikveda tank out there to top it off! We are so sc-"
"Haxx, shut your mouth and pull yourself together!" Vult sternly ordered, though not his intentions, the last thing he needed was their resolve to be lost. At this point…it was all that was holding them together. "Keep your heads down and mind clear! This isn't anything we haven't prepared for! We all knew things like this stood a good chance of happening, it's in our job description, it's what separates us from the regulars…it's what makes us the best!"
The unit was silent, save for the sounds of battle that was inching closer and closer by the passing second as the Vortians advanced.
"That's better," the Irken Commander nodded, turning to Corr, "How tough is that APC, Captain?"
It was risky, but they didn't have any other options.
"Looks lightly armored to me, Sir," he commented, seeing Vult beginning to hatch a plan on how to get them out of this mess. "Just a thin-skinned box with a turret on it pretty much, a single anti-armor round would take care of it no problem."
He nodded, clasping Aero's shoulder to get her attention.
"Think you can do a quick weapon mod on Haxx's repeater?"
"My forte is vehicles, Sir…but I can try," she nodded, knowing that other than Vard, whom was out of commission for the moment, she was the only one capable of doing such work. "What do you want me to do?"
"Boost the output, crank it up as high as it will go without blowing it apart. We don't have anything ranged that will punch a hole in it, and I'm not about to send any of you out there to try to take it out, so we'll improvise."
Aero dove to the other side of the fountain to avoid getting picked off, fishing around in Vard's belt for the precision tools she needed since all she had were larger ones and power tools for "breaking" enemy vehicles, as she professionally put from time-to-time.
"Rha, Rem," Vult pointed to each, motioning towards Aero, "get over there and provide support while Haxx's weapon is down. Be quick about it, Aero, the longer he's down, our chances of survival diminish…fast."
Without a word, the pair of Shadow Strikers put themselves against the edge of the fountain to the left of Haxx, waiting for him to finish off his last volley of suppressing fire. The repeater had a distinct, fast-paced chatter that the Vorts would instantly pick up on as soon as it ceased firing and make their move. Vult was banking on it.
The actuator locked forward with the last expended round from the power cell, Haxx ducking back into cover, more or less falling and sliding down the edge of the fountain with his back to it, his pair of squadmates instantly taking his place and cutting loose with their plasma rifles.
"Reloading!" He exclaimed as he jettisoned the spent power cell, reaching for another drum-shaped magazine, only to have his weapon jerked away from him by the taller female Irken. "Aero, what the Irk are you doing?! I need that!"
"Shut up and hold on a sec," she responded, popping the small access hatch on the receiver with a fastener driver, tweaking the series of knobs and maneuvering wires to different connection points. Her articulate fingers masterfully moved over the exposed panel, concentration necessary with the delicate components as time was also of the essence. The longer Haxx's repeater was down, the more opportunity the assaulting Vortians had to advance closer to their position.
"Anytime today, Aero, no pressure," Haxx pressed, "no pressure at a-" a round skimmed his antenna. Luckily enough it was protected by the flexible armor that covered them from the helmet, but the heat was unbearable as he clutched at it, lowering his head so they didn't protrude over the edge. "Will you hurry up!?"
Something bounced off the top of his helmet with a fright at the impact, far too uniform in size and weight to simply be crumbling rubble. The object in questioned rolled to a stop just in front of Aero as she was working on the repeater, looking up at the movement she caught in her peripheral vision. Not surprised at this point, it was the absolute last thing any of them needed at this point.
A live Vortian fragmentation grenade.
"GRENADE!" Aero screamed out of reaction, quickly reaching for the circular object in hope of disposing of it long before it detonated and easily killed all of them in one fail swoop. With a textbook throw, the device arced through the air, bounding along the ground a few times before rolling to a stop just in front of a trio of advancing Vortians sprinting for cover to close in on the pinned Irken soldiers. The timing couldn't have been anymore perfect, regardless of a one and a million shot.
The grenade exploded with a deafening shockwave of shrapnel and debris, mainly shattered brick and tile from the plaza below it…as well as the three Vortians caught in the blast. Two of them may have been far enough away to be spared from the explosion, but razor-sharp shrapnel made sure they were out of commission as they lay on the ground with grievous wounds. The third, however, wasn't so lucky. Aero watched in grim fashion as the maelstrom ripped through his body, engulfing it as it was torn asunder and sent askew. What wasn't solid tissue was either a fine violet mist or incinerated in the blinding heat. Haxx happened to be an unlucky one in that regard as a good sized chuck of the Vortian's flesh hit him right in the visor, splatting disgustingly against it to leave a greasy, gooey violet splotch to run down and drip.
"That's just…lovely!" He frustratingly wiped at it after realizing what it was. After ridding himself of the bloody flesh, he whipped around at Aero, "you done with my gun yet or what? I need it to shoot these guys so that doesn't happen again unless you like playing hot potato with live ordinance."
"Haxx, for the last time, shut your ikveda mouth before I shove this up your c'hurta!" Aero forcefully informed as she stared daggers at him from behind her visor, causing the Heavy Weapons Sergeant to straighten up in silence.
"Yes, Ma'am," he nodded in fear at her voice. The size advantage over him only made her that much more imposing when upset.
"Nice toss, Aero" Rha congratulated with a smirk beneath his mask, quickly returning back to keeping the opposing Vorts at bay.
"How much longer, Sergeant?" Vult requested, knowing their window of opportunity was slowly dwindling. The longer it took to take the Vortians out, the more time they had to call in reinforcements. Even then, the Irken Commander wasn't sure how far they were going to get before running into more resistance at this rate.
"Just…about…finished, Commander," she informed, promptly slamming the access hatch back on, tossing the weapon to Haxx, which was a feat all in its own regard considering how heavy the repeater was. "Done."
"Just in time," He commented, turning to Haxx, "knock'em down, Sergeant!"
"Don't need to tell me twice," Haxx replied as he slammed the fresh power cell home, the weapon emitting a high-pitched whine as it charged up once more.
The Heavy Weapons Sergeant stood up, even hopping up on edge of the fountain without regard for his own safety. Depressing the trigger, the trio of barrels began spooling up, ready to beat out a rhythm of destruction.
"Suck on this, vodeto!" He exclaimed with a bit of a maniacal laugh, unleashing a hell storm of super-charged plasma from the repeater. The sacrificed rate of fire was a willing one for the kind of damage output that it was capable of now. Without a care nor hesitation, Haxx pulled the weapon laterally from left to right in a sweeping motion, mowing Vortian soldiers down where they stood, then finally coming to the APC crawler. The rounds made quick work of the armor plating, punching large holes through it with ease, much like a hot knife through butter. His weapons malfunction warning signal went off while firing, a flashing red gun symbol on his visor, accompanied by an alarm, but he seemed too occupied with slotting everything in sight. It didn't take a warning light for Aero to see what was happening.
"Haxx, lay off of the trigger before it-" she managed before the weapon in his hands exploded in a bright flash from the stress, rocketing Haxx backwards from the blast into the fountain once more, managing to knock Rha and Volx down in the process. "…overloads…you alright?"
Despite his uniform smoldering and shards of shrapnel jutting from it, he seemed to be unscathed. "I'm fine…I think." He commented, "not bleeding anyway, so I suppose that's good."
"That seemed to do the trick, Commander," Corr commented as he surveyed the scene. Save for a few Vortians stirring on the ground in seething pain from inflicted wounds, they were all dead. The APC was a smoldering husk rifled with dozens of holes from Haxx's work.
"Don't get comfortable yet," Vult warned, keeping a sharp eye out, "we still have a sniper to locate and deal with, not to mention the good possibility things are going to get busy fast if they called any friends for help."
The short Lieutenant, however, was more than displeased with Haxx knocking her down and out of cover.
"Haxx, you dolt, you could have killed us!" Volx screamed, climbing to her feet once more, thrusting an accusatory finger at him. "Watch what the Irk you're doing!"
"Killed? I just saved our c'hurtas!"
"You overloading your weapon like that, you idiot!" She growled, pointing to the remnants of the repeater sifting around in the liquid at their feet. "One of these days, you sheer disregard is going to come back to bite you. I swear to Irk that if your antics get me wounded or anything happens to me, Haxx, you will regre-"
Rub'Akho was still in position and made it more than evident that they weren't going anywhere as another round ripped through Volx's right thigh, entering from behind and exiting out the front. Cauterized or not, it was still quite painful and instantly dropped her to the ground in blinding discomfort, complete with the screaming.
"You vill suffer for killing my comrades," he said to himself after watching his deed happen through the focused lens.
"Everyone in cover, now!" Vult ordered, Haxx grabbing Volx by her by her right ankle, not helping her plight at all as he drug her by it with a quick jerk.
"Ow! OW! OW!! Stop it, Volx!" He ordered as she was literally punching him with all the strength she could muster in his arm. The metal gauntlets weren't exactly easy on the flesh. "Sula- OW! Volx is down!"
"What gave it away, the shrill screams of agony?" Sula chided as she finished up with Vard.
"LET GO OF MY LEG!!!" she screamed, hitting at his hand and forearm, retracting in pain even more from attempting effort to do so.
"Oh…sorry," Haxx sheepishly replied, Sula cautiously coming over to survey the damage done.
"Sir, we have got to uproot or take that sniper out, at least long enough for us to move to a better position," Corr stated the painfully obvious, trying to remain logical in thought to avoid losing control. "The longer we're here, the more chances he has to pick us off and for reinforcements to show up."
"Tell me something I don't already know, Corr," Vult nearly seethed, but knew the Captain was simply trying to keep morale up and everything under control, "That last shot came from the west, the angle means probably about mid-range floors of those structures over there."
"The impact and delay of the shot, I'd estimate about 1 to 2 clicks away, Sir," Corr added, getting a nod in agreement from his superior. Though Commander Vult yelled for him to get back with the rest of the unit, Corr didn't hear over the fray and the excitement scrambling for cover from the sniper's view. "Where's Sergeant Tuu?"
"He ran into that building behind us," Vult thumbed while keeping his head down, Corr poking his head up just enough to look, quickly ducking back in as a shower of crumbling brick and concrete sprayed from a narrowly missed shot. If the façade of the fountain hadn't been where it was, that would have killed him. "If anyone is going to get this guy off of us, it's going to be him. If not…looks like we're playing the waiting game."
Between Vard being unconscious, Volx out of commission, Haxx without a weapon other than his sidearm, and Tuu's whereabouts unknown, if another force of that size assaulted once more, they would be calling this fountain home…and their grave.
"You're good, I'll give you that much," Tuu thought to himself from his makeshift position on the upper floors, scanning the buildings across the plaza for any signs of activity, "but you're about to meet your match."
The window was cracked open just enough for him to fire through without letting in unnecessary light to give away his position. Just as he had gained access the empty domicile, he pushed the dining table up next to the wall to use as a stable rest to put his rifle on, sitting at a chair for an inhibited, solid shooting platform. His sights were as steady as physically possible in such a scenario. With a slow maneuvering of the rifle, he zoomed in and focused on the fountain to visually check the condition of his squadmates. Just from that alone, he could see that Sula had her hands full with Volx and was unsure of Vard's condition. Everyone's vitals on his visor checked out though, so that could be taken as a blessing in such a situation.
"Just hang tight a little longer, guys," the Irken Marksman ran through his mind, his sights drifting back over to the buildings in question, zooming into focus as he began the tedious process of searching every single window for any abnormality. Seconds ticked by, feeling like an eternity. For every one that was spent was another wasted…and another closer to possible demise. Things had been rather rudimentary thus far in their careers as the Irken Empire's most secretive sect of Spec Ops soldiers, but this…this was different. To the Irken, it was simply a conquest in-progress and only a matter of time before victory was achieved.
To the Vortians, however…it was their very survival. Their home, their planet, everything they held dear was threatened by the imperial war machine. Just from the small-scale display he had witnessed thus far, Tuu could already tell that things were only going to get worse as they dealt with insurmountable odds and an enemy that was willing to fight to the very end to defend what they held by right and the Irken sought to take what did not belong to them.
With controlled breathing and a clear mind, Sergeant Tuu stopped on a window, much like the others around it, it was drenched in darkness…until he saw a muzzle flash, quickly followed by the echoing shot as the sniper fired on his pinned squadmates once more in the fountain. The brief, yet bright flash illuminated the room, silhouetting not one, but two Vortian soldiers.
His scope calculated the necessary data for a precise shot, adjusting for Vort's gravitational field, humidity, the distance between them, and even the windage. The trio of red sights triangulated, then sped to the center of the scope, signaling it was sighted in and was ready for use. Tuu's trigger finger slid the locking safety lever to "Fire", then placed the tip of his claw at rest against it. The Irken Sniper held his breath to ensure a steady and clean pull would be made, setting the sight on the location of the first Vortian he managed to see and was positive he could hit.
A very minute, but textbook pull of the trigger fired a deafening shot with considerably recoil, Tuu remaining glued to the scope in order to witness the impact.
Rub'Akho chambered another round, becoming frustrated with himself.
"As skilled as these soldiers are," he managed through grit teeth, "even I shouldn't be so off-target. By mere inches, they are escaping death. By mere inches, I'm allowing them to live."
"Just calm down and stead your aim, Ru-" his comrade managed before a bolt of blue-white plasma shattered the window and found its way to its target.
Just as the Vortian turned his head, the bolt skimmed across the bridge between his eyes, into the dominant right, and out the temple in gruesome fashion. Though alive by mere millimeters, he fell to the ground, writing in agony as he clutched at the gaping wound. The smell of charred flesh and ozone mixed in macabre fashion and hung in the air heavily.
Rub'Akho instinctively slid down out of view, setting his rifle off to the side as he crawled over to his fallen friend and apprentice.
His flailing and screams of agony didn't do much to keep them concealed, Rub making the attempt to pry his claws away from the wound and get him to calm down.
"Stop," he forcefully stated, finally managing to pin his hands to the floor with his own, "fight the pain, you must be quiet. Ve cannot afford to make a sound," Rub finished, procuring a rolled-up strap of leather from his belt pouch. "bite into this and come, ve must go. It will help vith the pain…trust me."
He did so, clamping down on the strap with his teeth, biting into it as hard as he possibly could in hope of subverting the agony even a little. Surprising enough, it was actually doing just that.
"Vell played, Irken," Rub'Akho thought as he gathered his rifle, leading the half-blind Vortian in his company as they began relocating. "you've von this round. The smart hunter alvays lives to hunt another day and you clearly have the advantage. I von't underestimate your might next time, Irken, mark my vords…"
"He got him," Vult smirked after hearing the distinct crack of Tuu's rifle.
Sighs of relief went around, Haxx beginning to stand up from cover only to be jerked back down by Rha on his behind.
"That doesn't mean we're in the clear yet, you murata," Rha scathed.
"If Tuu was the one that took the shot, he's as dead as dead can be. I've never seen him miss yet," Haxx responded, shrugging his hand off. "You worry too much."
It seemed Haxx was going for a record at how many of them he could aggravate to the point of violence with his nonchalance and sheer lack of regard for his surroundings or those in his presence.
"He's right," Vult nodded, the stern look he gave Haxx swayed him to agree, "everyone just hold tight for a couple more minutes just to make sure, we need to regroup with Sergeant Tuu before we do anything. Sula, how's our wounded?"
"Vard's alive and fine other than the grazing wound, his helmet's busted, and possible signs of a minor concussion," she rattled off as she continued working on Volx's thigh, "and there isn't much else I can do here, Commander, a clean entry/exit wound through the thigh, shattered femur. There's too much damage for me to set it."
"So what do you suggest then?"
"Since there's no way she's going to be walking on it in its current state…" Sula trailed off, wrapping layers of tape around it to hold the gauze in place, assuring it was snug enough to keep any foreign debris from getting in it, "…someone's going to have to carry her. Until Vard comes to again, Aero's handling it."
"Any volunteers?" Vult looked around those present. "Someone raise their hand or I'll pick for you."
"I'll do it, Sir," Haxx jutted his hand up, much to everyone's surprise.
"No way, Commander," Volx protested instantly, even in her own dilemma, "its HIS fault to begin with why I got sho-AAHH! Easy, Medial Officer!" she yelped in pain from Sula tightening the bandages.
"Exactly," Haxx pointed out, sighing as he tried to find the words, "look…I'm sorry, okay? Does it justify what happened? No, of course not, but I can't offer anything else in my position but an attempt to make up for it. Besides, I don't have a weapon now other than my pistol, so I wouldn't be much help anyway."
"Well…he does have a point," Corr pointed out.
"I'm glad that you value your weapons over my life, Sergeant," Volx seethed through narrowed eyes.
"We don't' have time for this," Commander Vult stated, pointing to Volx, "Haxx, I don't care how you do it, just pick her up and let's go. You'll trade off every so often to keep anyone from getting exhausted. If were to make up lost time, we've got to be within striking distance of the objective by sundown, that gives us about…14 hours to cover nearly 20 kilometers."
That was more easily said than done, especially after already logging in a full day's worth of movement and a rather large-scale firefight. Conditioning and sharpened skills through training only did so much to stave off the soldier's worst enemies: fatigue, hunger, and exhaustion.
Those three enemies along is what produced the mistakes that cost lives.
"Come on, Volx," Haxx knelt down with his back facing her, holding his arms out to his sides, "let's go."
Though reluctant, very much so at that because Haxx was the initial cause of her predicament, she obliged, Sula assuring her injured leg wasn't traumatized any farther. She placed each leg around his body, Haxx promptly placing his forearms behind his back and beneath her rear for support as her legs dangled between his body and arms. Volx's hands latched onto his uniform around his torso.
"You got her?" Sula assured, still watching the wounded leg vigilantly.
"Yeah," He replied with a nod, looking over his shoulder at Volx. "Hold on, here we go."
Much to her surprise, he stood up with relative ease, hunched over slightly as he hefted her weight on his back. Haxx already carried an impressive amount of gear, mainly spare ammunition for his repeater, but it was even more so to completely support Volx's weight and her loadout in addition to that.
"Comfortable?" Haxx questioned with a smirk.
"Other than the fact that I have a gaping, charred whole in my leg and can't walk…I'm fantastic," she sarcastically responded, turning to Sula, "you got any more painkillers? The PAK isn't cutting it and my thigh feels like it's on fire. Do something."
"I can't give you too much, Lieutenant," Sula warned cautiously, measuring out an amount in a syringe, extremely slow at that by Volx's standards, "it will run the risk of overdosing and putting you under for Irk knows how lon-"
She reached out and snatched the syringe from the Medical Officer, promptly plunging it into her own flesh just above the wound with a quick yelp at how tender the area was, and depressed the plunger to inject the solution.
"Aaaaaaahhhh, much better," Volx commented, retracting the needle and letting it fall into the pool with a splash, spurring Haxx in the side with her left heel, "Forward, slave!"
"You're welcome," Haxx dripped of sarcasm, flinching each time she dug her metal-clad feet into his sides, "I could just drop you, you know that right?"
"You do, you'll regret it," she made apparent, "those beatings I've given you before will be child's play compared to what I'll do to you if you do."
"I'd like to see you try, gimpy."
"Quiet, both of you," Corr ordered, frustrated with them, "…acting like a couple of bickering smeets," he trailed off with a shaking head.
They seemed to be fine in spirit despite as trying as the most recent run-in with the local faction, something that an entire platoon of regular Irken Elite would have been shell-shocked and depleted of energy, let alone fighting spirit. As a commanding officer of them on Praxxus 7, it was already a horror he'd rather not relive in his lifetime. If not for his prior experiences early on in Tallest Red and Purple's rule in the field, he would have cracked under the pressure like many of the fresh soldiers had done all around him. Even so, as the best of the best, they could only take so much.
Vult had a suspicion that s much as they would have liked to avoid it…it was inevitable they were going to be pushed to their very limits.
"Rem, where we going?"
"Next objective is…8 clicks due north-northeast, Commander," she rattled off from her holo-display of a map. "May take a little longer than planned if we run into any more resistance, but we're not too far behind schedule, Sir."
"Alright," Vult nodded, looking over the rest of the unit at his command, "you heard her, boys and girls, time to move out!"
"What about Tuu, Sir?" Rha questioned, resting his rifle over his shoulder as he leapt up and over the edge of the fountain.
Vult looked towards the building, the Irken Marksman in question jogging up to join the rest of the group. "That answer your question, Corporal?"
"Yes, Sir."
The Irken Commander turned his attention back to Tuu.
"I apologize for breaking off from the unit and against your orders, Commander," he sincerely spoke, "I wouldn't have had the time and angle necessary to set up the shot to take out the sniper."
"So you did slot him then?"
"As far as I could tell, Sir," he nodded, pointing to the exact window just in sight, "that window right there, the one barely visible from here. I lined up an unobstructed shot on one and he dropped, no movement or anything else came from that area, so I'm sure if anyone else was up there, they got the message and relocated."
Vult nodded with the recap and update of what happened from his Marksman's viewpoint.
"Normally…I'd chastise you for such an action, but…" he trailed, adding a smirk with a pat on the shoulder, "you're actions very well saved the unit, Sergeant. Why weren't you responding?"
"I did, Commander...before I closed the comm. link for concentration."
"We didn't receive it," Vult added, perplexed, realizing what may have happened. "Sula, you said Vard's helmet was destroyed, right?"
"Yes, Sir, I did."
"Bring it here."
She obeyed, handing the remnants of the helmet to Vult, wires and components dangling from the remains of the right side where the bolt sheared off a large portion. His visage grew in disgust at the sight, handing it back to her.
"That is just great," he scowled, shoving it back into the Medical Officer's hands, "That shot took out our comm. array. No link up to satcomms, we're out here with no communications support whatsoever from Command. I think we'll be lucky to keep squad comm. links up and running with the condition it's it."
"No big, Commander," Haxx unconsciously replied, "Vard will…fix…it." He realized about halfway through the statement because of the Comms. Technician's current state, his antenna dropping with disappointment, "…right."
"What do you suggest we do then, Sir?" Corr beckoned at the revelation.
"What we always do, Corr, what we always do…" Vult began, giving the various hand signals for them all to fall in and continue in patrol formation. "We press forward and don't look back."