18 - Emerging Together
- Pack up for pick up
"This is Cherokee 3-0. Responding to your call for a pick-up Nova 7. Heard you guys were tackled pretty bad. By both Aparoids and some traitor. No worries; I brought me some good ol' blue helmet boys, medics and some regulars. Just in case. ETA 30 minutes. Try not to die of boredom until then!"
That message was sent out some ten minutes ago. He has it pretty much etched into his brain matter.
Blue helmet boys. That description makes him chuckle. Otherwise known as the party poopers, buzzkillers and the literal fun police. Or simply as the Military Police units. But using jargon makes it more fun. And they cannot arrest you given how it is not all that insulting. Although saying it right in their faces is still not advised. They are party poopers after all.
Regardless of their reputation, they do a job that needs to be done. After all, a soldier that has been trained in killing with various firearms is not above the law. No matter how petty or spoilsporting it may be. Right now, he could use some enforcing for those two. And for that one fleeting moment he would be pro police violence. As vile as that sounds, it would only be in that moment.
Just being in their presence is enough to make his stomach churn. Creating a nausea only a pair of cowards, killers, manipulators and cheaters can cause. The devil on his right shoulder is really encouraging him to put them out of his and everyone else's misery. And the angel on the left shoulder is actually agreeing with this one. But, as appealing as that would be, that would mean the blue helmets would be here for him. Because that would be a war crime.
He sighs deep and tries to get those dark thoughts out of this head. Instead, he focuses on the positives. Soon those two are gone. No longer contributing to anyone's misery. And along with everyone else they will be out of here.
Another positive thought comes to mind; he kept the civilians alive! If a little dented. They will be brought to a refugee camp until they can be returned to their place of residence. Those two will be thrown in jail for the time being. And he will take Patches with him as Militia. Maybe Peter as well. Although he believes that his priorities lie somewhere else.
Perhaps the most important positive then slowly trickles in. His girlfriend. Her image is now all-encompassing. And it fills him with joy and excitement to be reunited with her. The possibility that the Aparoid might have gotten to her, that doom-thinking, is not even thought off at all. Only positives allowed.
Then he is slightly startled when he feels a hand on his shoulder. It is Patches, who bemusedly asks why he was giggling to himself for a minute or so straight. He tells her about the "blue helmets'' thing. She does not get it but Trevor says she will soon. When she inquires more, he reminds her that she is now like him.
"Well, maybe not completely yet. I'm bringing you along as Militia now. But we make you a full soldier soon enough. After this whole thing blows over that is. Till then, you are sticking with me for sure." he assures her, much to her delight.
"Come on, we can wait outside. This place is making me claustrophobic now." he suggests good-humored, standing up from the side of the bed.
"And what about Tweedledee and Tweedledum over there?"
"Oh yeah." he grumbles.
"We could either bring them along or leave them here with someone. I would almost suggest Darwin or Peter but either will not end well I suppose. Bah! Better bring 'em along then. Get them on their feet and escort them outside. If it makes you feel any safer, you are allowed to escort them at gunpoint. In case they "fight back"... you as the "good cop" had no other choice."
"Understood Sir. Wish I had no other choice to be honest."
"Same here, Patch. But extraction will have to suffice for now. Go get 'em. And yes, kick starts are allowed should they not cooperate." he encourages her.
"If it comes to that, I'll make them regret ever being put in cuffs by a bunny. One already felt it but you never know." she answers with a little sneaky, devious undertone to it.
Which Trevor can appreciate.
"You never know indeed. I'll carry your stuff so you got your hands free."
"Oooh, you are such a gentleman, Corporal!"
"Quite so madam, quite so. Now, do your duty. The boys are almost here."
Patches salutes him before she moves towards the prisoners. With almost a skip to her walking. She must be very happy to get out of here. Or maybe in general too. He gives himself a metaphorical pad on the back for that one.
Now that she is not here, he can reconcile with Peter. He takes his radio and everything else he said he would take with him as he approaches him. The lanky doberman is busy explaining the situation to Sarah, like he promised. He uses very easy to understand terms to make sure she does not lose track. Using a normal tone instead of a belittling one. It must be true love.
Then Peter notices Trevor approaching and makes his excuses to Sarah. She does not mind and can now focus back on Hope. She got the gist of the story, which she wholeheartedly disapproved of during Peter's telling of it. She has already taken back calling Silva a "good man".
Peter stands up to meet Trevor face-to-face. With embarrassment visible in his expression. He scratches behind his head; a tell-tale sign. Trevor stops at the edge of Peter's personal space and awaits what he has to say.
"Corporal... I'm very sorry for believing Silva's lies. I should have known you would never touch Sarah like that. It was a moment of weakness and shock. Can you forgive me?"
Trevor takes a few moments to respond, but in the end nods in agreement.
"I forgive you, Peter. But I better not catch you doubting me again, agree?"
"Whole-heartedly!"
"Excellent. Come here." Trevor beckons him with open arms and the two proceed to hug it out.
"We got through this. Together."
"We did Corporal. We did indeed. Thank you."
The hug breaks up and Trevor makes sure to remind them to bring all of their stuff along. Then Patches reports herself to him, having the prisoners ready for escort. Trevor answers delighted and says that their transport will be here soon.
"To everyone. This is the last announcement I will make in this location. Grab your stuff, do not forget anything as we will no longer come back here. Check, double-check everything. On and under your beds and in those name-labeled baskets. Any food or other supplies you feel like plundering from the kitchen, have at it. And could someone stay with Darwin and in essence Felix as well until the medics come with a gurney?"
Quinn raises his hand up in the air with enthusiasm. Just because of that, Trevor picks him and returns a thumbs up to the rat for his initiative.
"Alright folks! Those already ready and packed, follow me. For those still busy, we will meet near the remains of the kiosk. And fair warning; the platform you have known does no longer exist. It has turned into a battlefield. Please be careful of any objects or Aparoid corpses on the floor. As well as debris and scattered train cars. I would prefer everyone get out of this hole without additional injuries. All clear? Good. Move out!"
The prisoners go first. Side-to-side, held at gunpoint from behind by Patches. Followed by Trevor and then Peter, Sarah and Hope dragging everything that they have with them. They had everything packed up already. So only Quinn and Darwin are staying behind. Felix as well but only in spirit.
When they arrive on the platform, for those that were on the battlefield, it is relatively easy to digest. The destruction, the death. But for those who had not seen it before, it is quite the shock. Even for Jane, who saw the defenses and helped set it up, could not have imagined the devastation. But she is soon told to keep her head down; curiosity is not allowed under Patches' hard regime.
- Extraction/The Last Stop
Solar stands high in the sky. No wonder, it is just after 12 in the afternoon. And yet it feels chilly. Whether that is from the anticipation or the northern winds that have suddenly picked up, is unknown. What is known however, is that the sky is now getting more and more polluted. No longer with Aparoid projectiles but rather with Cornerian ships. Either those made for military purposes or commandeered civilian and transport ships with a rifle duct-taped to the side. The number is sometimes enough to blot out a portion of the sunlight. A nice change of scenery.
Their transport is arriving now in force as well. Cherokee 3-0 and company descend onto the square, still littered with Aparoid corpses and laser burn marks. The first two ships to touch down land just before the stash. And they contain the blue helmets and medics respectively. They brought an overwhelming amount of medics though; leaving nothing to chance. Given how many troops have already died in the line of battle, it is very understandable they want to preserve life. Some of them look old and not in shape at all. Most likely GP's or other doctors that have volunteered, presumably.
Trevor directs them down into the metro station with the gurney so they can pick up Darwin and Quinn. And the medevac team for the collection of Felix' corpse. The blue helmets are directed to Silva and Jane, presented to them on their knees on a silver platter. They are thankful for this and take them with them. Physically with a lighter touch but not verbally. Best described as "drill sergeant inspired", those boys are making verbal mincemeat out of the tin-pot dictator and his scheming concubine.
Some leftover medics then turn to Trevor & co. And though they are not that or at all wounded in their opinion, the medics do not take any risks. Also the little Hope is checked up. Good thing the medic that is with her is a pediatrician in civilian life. When the one examining Patches asks about the bandage still present on her face, she says she would like to keep it on. If only as a reminder.
In the meantime, more ships have landed. Soldiers, armed to the teeth, are pouring out. Small squads but still impressive. No risks are taken at all. One of them is running towards them.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for Corporal deLange. Do you know where I can find him?" he asks with a light pant.
"Speaking." Trevor responds, ever so humble.
"I got orders to bring you back to camp ASAP. Your bird is ready!"
"Good. But I'm not leaving until everyone here is out. Only then do I leave. Understood?"
"Understood Sir! We'll make sure to get it done fast."
The soldier turns around.
"Double-time it, people!" he calls out as a perimeter is set up and some go down into the station itself to assist in any way they can.
"Soldier!" Trevor calls out to him.
"What is going to happen to this place?"
"Checkpoint, Sir. We can never be too careful now."
"Makes sense. Carry on."
The soldier salutes and goes about this business.
"Are you always this blunt with your colleagues?" Patches quips.
"Only when they aren't part of my unit."
"So I'm part of your unit?"
"I would say so. If I'm ever blunt with you... genuinely blunt I mean then, consider yourself ousted."
"Good to know." she chuckles.
"Like that's ever going to happen." he assures.
At that moment, the gurney with Darwin is brought up the stairs. Shadowed by Quinn who is dismissed when they are at the top of the staircase. But Quinn does not go anywhere yet; instead he waits for the other gurney carrying Felix up. If not for duty, then just for plain respect.
After Darwin and Felix are loaded up, the civilians are next. Trevor calls Peter and Quinn over for one last time. During the interaction, Trevor praises their toughness, bravery and resilience. Peter during the battles against the Aparoid onslaught and Quinn for his intervention at the crucial moment when the clash between him and Silva was at risk of getting overcooked.
"Furthermore. Peter, I'm relieving you of your Militia status. You have fought valiantly for Corneria and the safety of our system. Good luck in your civilian life and take good care of Sarah and Hope. But more importantly, take care of yourself." Trevor wishes him.
The two shake hands and depart like good friends. Both find it a shame but they can meet up again once this war is over. For now, their safety is paramount. As a soldier guides them to their transport, only Quinn remains as a civilian.
"Quinn. My ratty friend. Good luck to you too and a safe journey. May your future battles be fought only with dice and models. And keep that pen pressed to that paper; let your imagination guide you."
"Thank you, Corporal!" he says, whereupon he once again wraps himself around him.
But not for all that long now. He waves goodbye as he nearly trips over his own feet while running to the same transport as Peter and Sarah are on. At least he has someone known to talk to underway.
Now only Trevor and Patches remain. And a little creeping voice in the back of her head, is whispering that Trevor is going to revoke her Militia status too. The ship for the civilians is not taking off yet so that must mean something. She does not dare ask it; he might forget about it.
"Corporal!" she hears.
"Your transport is ready, Sir! What do you want to do with her?"
Trevor looks at her and then back at the soldier with a sour expression.
"A little respect for this Militia woman, will you? She is coming with me."
When he beckons her to accompany him, that little voice is silenced. And with gusto she follows him to their transport. They wave one last goodbye to the civilians as the door on their ship closes and it takes off. Soon enough, they are taking their place on their own next to each other.
While they are settling in, the female crew chief welcomes them on board and directs them to their seats. Not before remarking that they look like "hammered shit" however. Trevor and Patches look over themselves, see their less than presentable state and then each other before they burst out laughing.
"That's what the metro does to you." Trevor answers all witty.
"Heard about it. Nova 7, right?"
Trevor nods. Then she sees a fresh new face on board, she assumes correctly that this must be the Militia she had heard about.
"I was allowed to bring along with one Militia. But only because the Captain said that you have a very good taste in picking your Militia fighters. She's the one then?"
"Yes indeed. And I bet the Captain did not say that willingly."
The crew chief laughs unapologetically.
"You can say that again. The Sergeant-Major had to persuade him to admit it."
"That sounds like the Captain for sure. We clear for takeoff?"
"Almost. The pilots are performing the final check ups."
Then she is surprisingly quiet. Her head tilts to the right and then she inquires a little hostile about the patch on Patches' shoulder. Because Militia do not have ranks and having one makes things rather questionable.
"Earned in blood." Trevor states protective, making short work of any doubt or suspicion.
The crew chief nods and then gets the word that the doors are going to be closed.
"All aboard!" she calls out as if she was a train conductor.
"Seatbelts on, I want no one falling off my bird!"
After a brief shudder, the doors are shut and the engines are gradually given more power as they achieve lift off. The ship turns around 180 degrees and flies away. Inside, Trevor stares out of the window. He sees the skyscrapers disappear from view beneath him and the clouds take their place. Once those are gone, only a blue sky remains. With some ships trailing behind the main force.
It looks like an armada. Probably most, if not all of the Cornerian Fleet that was kept in one piece after the Aparoids broke through. They are going North and might also go up past the atmosphere. A counter-attack this quickly? Or was something planned already?
Then an urgent message comes in over the radio; General Pepper has been gravely injured after an Aparoid managed to overtake his flagship. Consequently he was shot down but he was saved falling to his death by Peppy Hare of the Star Fox team. It seemingly happened a few hours ago.
While the crew celebrates that the General is still alive, Trevor cuts his celebrations short when he is reminded that he saw Peppy fly past. Like a madman in a rush. Could that have been it? Mostly sure, he goes to tell Patches that her namesake whizzed by him when he was outside. She does not believe him obviously, despite Trevor's insistence. After trying a few more times, he realizes she thinks he is still joking around so he stops pushing it. And returns to looking out of the window.
He starts to realize how tired he is. He was, after all, awoken early by an alarm. And not the correct one. He never got a full sleep and was instead thrown into battle. It will take some time before they are back at base. So he hangs back, relaxes and closes his eyes. And before he knows it, he is off to the land of dreams. His head loses the fight with gravity and lands on Patches' shoulder. Who is more than accommodating and also closes her eyes to catch up on some rest.