5
It's going into emergency repair mode, Mar recognized.
No doubt another perk of the self-controlled Scarabs. He knew the Lekgolo worms worked fast, he just wasn't really sure how fast. His estimate was less than a minute before they would complete repairs and have the Scarab back up and stomping around.
We can't let that happen.
...
Mar?
Truthfully, Mar wasn't exactly holding it together. He thought he was doing a good job of concealing his fear, as Elites often do, but he was scared inside. Scared shitless. There was no denying it. Some very vivid images were coming up, some recent memories. Too recent. Both Red Twins had nearly died that day. Back on the second ring, after losing Rtol in the Banshee escape from genocidal Brutes, and then Yerba on the Scarab ride over to the control room, Mar had been entrusted with defending the team's Scarab while Madiba and pretty much everyone else went to fight Tartarus.
Mar had one Minor under his command, as well as an injured Imp with a missing helmet. It was a suicide mission. None of them stood even half a chance when a Brute Captain and his pack stormed the Scarab. Both the Minor and the Imp were killed in the raid, and Mar found himself trapped on the control deck, cornered by the pack.
It was by the Captain's respect for Bin Son alone that Mar wasn't killed on the spot, and thus, bought him more time. While outnumbered and fighting countless Brutes, including the Captain, he managed to activate the Scarab's anti-theft self destruct directive and escaped by the skin of his teeth through a hatch in the floor.
...ar! Mar!
I'm fine, Madiba. Just a little nervous, that's all.
Don't be. You survived this once, you can survive it again.
Mar wasn't too sure, but zoomed toward the Scarab regardless. He was born an Elite and he would die as one too.
"Hey mate," Chips Dubbo laughed to Falzud after blasting all the Brutes on the Scarab's bottom deck to kingdom come with the gauss turret. "This one looks like your sister."
Falzud didn't even have a sister. Regardless, it must have been the funniest thing he'd heard in weeks, because he just broke into fits of loud, hearty, practically crying laughter. Dubbo couldn't resist joining him. Seeing the two of them cracking up like that as the Demon parked next to the Scarab lifted Mar's hopes. Maybe this wouldn't be as intense as he expected it would.
That's the spirit, little brother. Move in, destroy, move out. Nothing to it.
I know...I've done this before. Sorta.
The Demon stood outside the Warthog saying, "Alright, alright, quiet down. Private, be ready to swing back around and pick us up. You, you're with me. Let's move."
Mar zoomed to catch up to them while Coombs hung back so his gunner could take out a crew of carbine Jackals atop the Scarab's exposed main deck. The Elite Major arrived just as the Scarab was lifting back up and Dubbo was taking off in the Warthog. Mar held onto the turbo boost when he saw Falzud lying on the floor of the rising bottom deck with an arm dutifully leaned out, waiting.
Here, now, was Mar's last chance to turn back. Mar knew this. Even so, he held two arms out for balance as he carefully stood up in his seat, leapt up, and caught the hand.