System wouldn’t let me edit my original, so I’ll post the approved edit here.
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Brenn dodged, but not fast enough to avoid a glancing (if one could even call it that) blow to the left side of his helmet, sending him sprawling backwards. Despite wearing a military-grade hardsuit, the impact briefly stunned him.
Ugggh… I’m gonna need some repairs if this continues, he thought. The blow had left a visible scar on the helmet, a silver slash that lent it a slightly piratical appearance.
“Any chance we can talk this over before the beatings commence?”
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Her eyes narrowed at his audacity. The nerve. To ask to ‘talk this over’, when he had killed one of them. She stomped closer to him, her gun still aimed at him.
“Speak, scum. Unlike you, I might consider leaving you to the dogs if I feel hospitable enough.”
Her voice was like the tolling of an old bell, tarnished and rusted, final and ending.
“Or I might just have to end you myself.”
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Rad backed down the alleyway, his weapons trained on the rear of the formation.
“Talk me to, what’s happening?” He asked over the encrypted comms.
”Who fired the shot?” he thought, his focus bouncing between his optics and his HUD, trying to maneuver his way down the alley without tripping.
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“First off, who shot that guy? I never got a chance to pull the trigger myself. Second,” Brenn pulled himself to a sitting position, “who do I have the pleasure of addressing?”
He looked up at the metal giant, hoping for some sign that immediate attempts at removing him from the realm of the living would be postponed, hopefully to a later date.
I am not going to let some punk of a rebel shove me around without at least knowing which officer I’ve offended THIS time, he thought. The thought did not at all reassure him that he was safe.
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“I assumed you were the one. Who I am doesn’t concern you. Now, give me a good reason as to why I shouldn’t turn you into mincemeat.”
She glared down at him, her finger still on the trigger.
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Rad took a moment and looked over his shoulder, seeing that he was finally close enough to the group at the end of the alleyway.
Approaching the LT just as she finished her question, he switched to his external speakers.
“Our six is clear for the moment LT. - Who’s the Tango?” He asked, the voice modulator making him sound like electronic death.
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“Er… maybe him??”
Brenn found himself staring at a nearly alien person, wearing a hardsuit calculated to invoke fear of its inhuman appearance; its visor nonexistent, its very design like something from a nightmare. It was a sight that left the seer wishing they had any excuse to leave the scene immediately.
This isn’t good. But if he can keep the tank from smashing my skull in, maybe, just maybe…
He swallowed. Visibly. This was no rebel he was looking at. This was a mercenary, and definitely one of the ones the Barony would have trouble with. Not one of the more trifling pirates, this guy had guns, and armor, far beyond the means of anyone outside the highest ranks of the elites of the military. That hardsuit was the kind a noble would have as a last resort, filled with the most expensive countermeasures… he had nothing on hand that could break it. No mines, no grenades, not even bolt cutters or flares…
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Rad looked down at the man, the cameras on the front of his helmet barely clicking as they articulated following the movement of his eyes behind the armor plating that was his visor.
“Advanced troops?” He thought to himself after recognizing the olive drab coloring of the Baronies military.
“No … that’s not right”
Speaking directly to the man he asked, “You’re far from home aren’t you marine?” The inflection of his questioning clear despite the modulation.
Tilting his head back, he scanned the sky for any unknown “stars”, hoping the early morning sun would reflect off the hulls of orbiting ships. Doing this mostly for show, he didn’t allow his sensors time to actually scan for near world objects; instead he looked back at the man.
“I’d answer my LT Hull Buster, (Rad’s slang for Marine). Even if you have friends nearby, they won’t be able to save you before that armor squeezes the life out of you.”
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September 21st, 06:32 SST
Vitus @Ghid
Once outside the hospital, you feel several hands push and pull along toward an open-topped trailer being pulled behind some kind of truck. Either Sivas was desperate, or they were hopelessly unprepared - likely both.
An emergency services voulanteeer lifts you over the edge of the trailer and sets you on its bed, instructing you to sit down and hold on, youll be given further instructions once your outside of town. After several others are loaded and the trailer is filled to a capacity it likely wasnt designed for, it lurches forward before slowly starting to move.
A gentle breeze pulls through your hair as you sit, facing what would be a beautiful veiw of the sunrise over the little city youve been calling home for now, ruined only by the decent of a swarm of ships to the west and splotches of troops to the east. If not for the circumstances, this would be a wonderful farewell.
Nilas @ajtazt
One of the ships’ pilots replies through the troop bays intercomm, chuckling
“Oh Ralph’s been in this one too? I swear before he retires every one of our ships transports will have his little signature hidden somewhere”
Outside the transport you find clusters of troops, each featuring a few neatly organized formations all awaiting final direction on where to move to in the city. Radio operators traditionally stay back with command groups at first, but with how your past operations have gone, safety tends to come through movement.
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For now, Nilas heads over to his designated spot to listen for commands as the channels flips through. Occasionally looking up at the sky and surrounding area so that his vacant stare doesn’t upset an officer.
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Vitus successfully flinched at each and every single instance of being touched. It was disgraceful enough to be ushered along like some kind of domesticated cattle, but the pulling him forwards? Like a lost child wandering a supermarket, constantly losing track of his parents and needing to be physically made to keep up? Even worse.
It didn’t help that his mannerisms were quite clearly those of a lost child who had no idea where he was going or what he was supposed to do, but his injured ego overrode every other thought.
And then it got worse.
Someone had the audacity to pick him up, frame and all, and plop him down in the bed of a trailer. The instructions were received without so much as a blink, as he stared into space still trying to register what had just happened. But as more people got loaded on, his wounded ego decided it had been attacked yet again, and he switched sides to avoid sitting next to the mother and shivering child that had just been added.
Bad choice. A wheezing old man struggled up and into the bed, seating himself against Vitus’ one side while a woman with a long, drawn face and an extremely disagreeable attitude took the opposite side. Now sandwiched in, Vitus could only fold his arms across his chest and pout in retaliation; he should have been content where he was before.
With the trailer fully loaded, the old man fell asleep instantly, his rough nasal passages growling out a low, gravely snore which mingled well with the running noises of the vehicle. Vitus could feel his scowl growing. This was intolerable; why couldn’t he sit in the passenger seat of the truck instead of being with the rabble?
He could feel his fingers rolling again. Smashing his hands under his elbows, Vitus angrily turned to look over his shoulder, disgusted by the world around him, focusing his eyes on the-
On the sunrise.
It took a moment, as his bad attitude was quite resilient, but after a minute he shifted his position to better face the sunrise as his features cleared. The city he had called home for- well, he had really only called it home for just a little more than a year, at the absolute most - likely less. But it was still home all the same, and the memories he had formed there were ones he would never forget. The lives lost, the friends he had made… The friends he had lost as well.
So he sat, fighting between calm and melancholy, unsure whether to say goodbye to this little city and its eccentricities, the memories he had made with it, and all that had come before, or if he should desperately plead with the rising sun to set again and hide the city from view - hide the fact that he was leaving from him, make him find out later.
It was like a funeral. That city was dead friends, dead memories, and dead dreams. But even knowing they were all gone, he couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye.
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“Him?"”
She raised an eyebrow at Rad.
“Indeed. And I doubt you’re willing to spill your guts…are you?”
She leaned the gun closer at the marines face. The whirring of her armor clicked and
“Unless you are willing…then maybe i’d be willing to let you live…”
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“Regarding allied forces, I think you got them all,” Brenn replied sourly. “As for your first question, I could say the same for you. That’s some impressive gear you have. Haven’t seen any Blackvine troops with that kind of hardsuit before.”
He paused, looking between the two officers.
“So, what exactly are you wanting from me? You want military data? The locations of troops, the plans command has in mind? Or you just looking for someone to make an example of to help the troops see how the Barony’s forces should be disposed of?”
His final sentence was directed at the black-armored officer, spoken with a slight hint of venom.
“I assume both of you are getting tired of me, correct? So I’ll put my cards on the table. I’m a paratrooper. I was dropped off here early this morning to lead a sabotage attempt, and to do some reconnaissance. Right after landing, your troops came in and took out my commander and the other troopers. I tried to ambush your squad, got in a fistfight with the guy in the alley back there, and then nearly got my head taken off by the LT here after some wise guy committed friendly fire trying to shoot me. That’s it up to now.”
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September 21st, 06:33 SST
Nilas @ajtazt
Flipping through channels, you find that annoying local station again, the inter-building communications, emergency broadcast channels, emergency responders bouncing between each other- something about another truck being sent off from the hospital to someplace north of the town, and the regular pre-battle chatter across Barony frequencies. Interestingly, fragments of what sound like naval chatter can be heard on one frequency, seemingly coming from a relay tower in Ercis.
An officer finishes briefing the nearest squad, then comes to face you:
“Turner, your going to be our probe, if the Colonies are using a frequency, we want to know about it. Report what you find to Captain Burakgazi, then start routing comms between our boots and second shift, whenever the rest of those transports get in range”
Vitus @Ghid
At first, the ride through the city was solidly somewhere between physically uncomfortable and a nostalgic pleasantry - between the bouncing trailer, cramped conditions and particularly the ill sleeping man rolling up against you, it was hard, but not impossible to focus on the rushing through the cool morning air as you leave it behind, the sunrise over a friendly city, and the clear sky.
Well, at least it was clear at a glance: as one person, then several people on the trailer begin pointing up, it was clear there was action in the navy apparently lurking above, and something big and fiery was hanging somewhere up there, but it was hard to tell what it was or if it was moving.
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Vitus was a charitable and generous fellow. What he had in excess he was not afraid to share, and he freely and willingly handed out tons of scowls to all those around him that dared to disturb his reverie, either by doing the minimum required to remind him they all existed, or by rolling over onto him with all the grace and elegance of a dead horse.
Regardless, he continued to fight for the right to lose his thoughts in the morning glow, until just as he was about to give up, the long-faced woman looked up in the sky, some of the cold, deathly air hanging about her dissipating in the breeze. Vitus did not have to look at her to sense her features soften. He had begun to turn and look when the old man rolled up against him again.
However, others chimed in, and hands were pointed upwards, with small chatter about the dreadful state of it all and other such faff. When his head finally did turn, an impressive sense of dread bore down on him with greater force than the sick old man had crushed him with, his pupils shrinking dramatically as, regardless of whatever it actually way, Vitus knew in his mind what it reminded him of, and therefore truly had to be.
SDV Kinilada.
Of course, it was not the SDV Kinilada. But it was just as horrible to watch as it had been to exit it. Somewhere, up there aboard whatever warship this had once been, was an escape pod with a Vitus Warthen aboard, which never launched in time…
OOC: Does this mean it’s almost time for Ace to return? 
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Nilas makes a mental note of the naval frequency as the system auto-changed. After a couple of milliseconds of the officer standing before him, his focus is trained on the order giver. Saying his name loud enough was often enough to snap him out of the noise.
“Sir yes sir, already on it. Would Captain Burakgazi care to know about hospital evacs?”
As he says this, he grabs his tablet from his back and stops its auto-flipping. He tries to hold it at an angle that the officer can’t really see as he goes back over the channels it tried already. Attempting to see if he can better hone in that relay station.
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Rad remained quiet, not answering the man. Even his body language could give away information to those trained at gathering intel; and he had no intentions of giving away details about his gear to an enemy combatant.
Seeing this, Rad spoke to Lin via encrypted comms; his helmet preventing his words from being heard by those around him.
“With respect LT,” he said; his words slow making sure his tone communicated that he truly meant what he was saying; “I know we just lost someone, but we need information. As tempting as it is to get a pound of flesh from this guy; we need cool heads right now.”
He took a moment to let allow Lin to process his words before continuing. “If you need to blow off steam, I can question the hostile. I’ll even give you a live feed from my HUD so you can see all and hear all. But we’re going to need his intel.”
Once more, he gave pause to let her think.
“Please lower your weapon.” He finally asked.
That was … unexpected. With how this war has been, Rad would typically fall back on his training to question enemy personnel; sometimes even relaying on … well … “questionable practices” to pull intel from enemy combatants.
However, this paratrooper just decided to spill the beans without any real hesitation?
Was he really afraid of the LT smoking him with that LMG, or worse - her crushing his skull with those enhanced gauntlets?
Regardless, that information came out too quickly for him to fully trust what he just heard.
Only one real way to find out.
Rad knelt beside the man, and extended his hand.
“Let’s see those cards that you’re laying on the table. You say you’re a paratrooper and that your mission was to perform sabotage and recon?”
He gave a moment for his question to process; let the words bypass the stress of the situation.
“What are your targets?” He asked, his voice cold and electric through his speakers.
“Who was your commander, and where were they attacked?” He continued. He needed to know, especially if there were friendlies in the AO that may require assistance after an engagement.
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