Objectives:
- Defend FOB: Belisarius & the outposts (DOOT)
- Raid enemy positions (DOOT)
- Rescue beleaguered Imperials/Chiss (DOOT)
- Guard escape-path to Spaceport (DOOT)
- Heal wounded soldiers & refugees (DOOT)
Primus City, Noris (874 ABY)
'Good job you found 'er when you did, guys.... I'm not so sure she'd be able to make it another hour in this state. And thanks, for holdin' off on the meds and such. At least now we can keep track of the doses as we make our way back, good thinkin' on your 2-IC's part anyway.'
Cruz had been quick enough to make it there in time to catch the Scopes before they started embarking on their way north again, as it seemed like they would need to run the rest of the way with an Elite-Trooper in rapidly declining health, something that was turning everyone's stomachs to consider before the timely comm-link correspondence from one of IMPAF Medical Division's best field-medics put all these cursed plans to rest indefinitely. Turning back in maintained vigilance in the nagging relief, Cantrell would cover their six to the south, keeping all his attention to the canopy of potential snipers' perches as he queried,
'You hear that, Nara?', in a quiet, though conversational mutter.
'He just said you did good to hold back on the stims. Seems you're more qualified than you give yourself credit for, hah?'
Cruz was already something of a friend to the Embers, having been there for them in almost every last deployment of note, always being noted as one who would always work to save the careers or the lives of their comrades; and outside the professional setting, always one who actually cared worth a damn as far as all the Embers were concerned, always one with time to spare for Karsh's low-numbers clique.
'Being honest, it wasn't. Just an innate fear of needles and drugs in general. The usual.... Good to see you alive and well though, all things considered.'
'Thanks, and likewise! And whether it was fear or otherwise, its good enough for me, Denzo.', Salazar responded with a gladdened smile, turning to look at Erin as his assistants loaded her up onto the medical-speeder with care and slow deliberation. Sighing with clear relief, it was clear to both Cantrell and Futanara that their friend was thinking they might have been a little too late, only changing in his demeanour when the triage was finalised and out the way, and only letting the relief take hold properly as soon as Erin had been secured inside the armoured medical-speeder. All angles were covered, with all contingencies and deteriorations worked around for as long as they remained in control of the situation, giving plenty reason for Cruz to relax in such a fashion as he concluded,
'Good enough for now anyway, lets go-', hitting his point home to speed the process up before an unexpected interruption stirred the Master-Sergeant from his mild reverie.
<"Karsh to Ember Six! You've got incoming friendlies, another Elite-Trooper by the looks of it. Keep a line open for Esk One - Three - Eight! Could come in handy, ya never know.">
'Alright then, more the merrier.'
<"I'll take it! Elite's an Elite, and I won't be venturing to look a gift-horse in the mouth today. Ember Six out!">
With an encumbered grunt of standing exertion, Cantrell would rise to his feet from his kneeling position with intent to get the formation moving in pursuit of their fast-moving comrades, only to find his intentions interrupted by the sighting of approaching vehicles in the distance, fortunately marked as friendly on the HUDs of everyone's helmet-displays at the time though. Marked as vehicles of the 21st Company, Scope Platoon's arcs of fire returned to their formerly south-westward headings, quite confident of their diminishing safety concerns by then, and quite happy to let the formation bolster itself properly - no matter how long it would take to do so.
A LIFETIME OF SERVICE: ACT 1 (DUTY) - PART 9
FOB: Belisarius, Nadrin Quarter,
Primus, Noris (874 ABY)
<"15th Company this is Staff Sergeant Esk-One-Three-Eight, responding to Esk-One-Four-One's distress signal. Enroute to your position. Requesting correspondence and direction from Ember-One. Please acknowledge.">
Raising an eyebrow in confusion, then raising a hand to halt their command-tent proceedings for a moment, Captain Karsh was beginning to think that there had been some misleading information given to the young Elite-Trooper somewhere along the way, as it wasn't Remmel himself who was leading the rescue effort; and in light of knowing who was in fact leading the Scopes southward, All-Heart began to weigh his response in the spirit of clearing up any and all confusions in the process, hoping for a particular way that ensured comprehension quickly for everyone's sake. In the moment he decided what the best course of action would be, Karsh would find himself hearing out another comm-salvo from the concerned Elite-Trooper as he reached into one of his belt-pouches for his comm-device's receiver and a datapad for the purpose, trying his utmost to be understanding of the situation as Jack-138 patched through again in desperation.
<"Repeat, this is Staff Sergeant Esk-One-Three-Eight, responding to Esk-One-Four-One's distress signal. Enroute to your position. Requesting correspondence and direction from Ember-One. Please acknowledge.">
'Just a moment, lads.'
<"Esk One-Three-Eight, this is Captain Remmel Karsh! Callsign: Ember One! The callsigns you need are Ember Six and EMT One, sending GPS readings and trajectories to your datapad now.... Also, please try not to clog the comms too much after this, we need the comm-traffic as sparse as possible, but otherwise - good luck out there. Ember One out!">
'Sorry about that, Lieutenant.... So, your summary. By all means, begin.'
A tense moment, and for all involved, as it was bringing out a subject that would otherwise be dismissed as fanciful at that stage of any other deployment like it, such a subject that was usually always avoided by All-Heart in favour of adapting and overcoming instead. He could see it in the eyes of his subordinates, but could do nothing to change their initial thoughts on his sudden irregularities, so in that moment, all Remmel could do was let Ivan and Cormac have their say, waiting to decide in the end on whether it really was the right time for harsh realities or not. The writing on the wall was there for the Imperials on Noris to see, but whether they would look and read it properly was another philosophical matter entirely, and as far as their supposed evacuation was concerned, it wouldn't have mattered if they believed or not - as threats far more immediate were always there to keep the 117th Division from finding the time to plan around these circumstances.
'Our picket lines have reported the Maw's forces are on the move, Sir. They have been dilluting their center, spreading them out on the flanks and thus extending their line. Their reserves have been moving to augment the gaps.'
The truth is already beginning to pain him, yet he swallows this understanding like its-
Like it was bile or vomit rising in his throat.
And yet, the urge to express complete honesty began to take over Sienar's withdrawn, reluctant demeanour, concluding,
'The initial assessment has been rather... underrative of their manpower, Sir.', an air of reaffirmed certainty that served to raise the Lieutenant from his middling place in the old Captain's estimation of character. Even if everyone under the protection of FOB: Belisarius was to meet with a bloody, agonizing fate, Karsh was beginning to understand how such a noble could earn his right to be an officer with the 117th, realising then that it was more than just the merit of his Fort Rex passing grades; even if Sienar didn't see it in himself at the time, almost every fiber in his commanding-officer's body could see the stuff of heroes resonating outward from within him. Greatness of a sort was silently expected of Ivan in this moment, no matter how fleeting his time with it ultimately amounted to, as every little would help in the fight's final stages, and like Cormac, Remmel was also beginning to hope for the best for the Lieutenant's sake.
'Thank you, Lieutenant. I appreciate the honesty.... But we'll cover this in a moment though, lack of interruptions permitting of course.'
In the following smoke-filled silence, Remmel nodded to Cormac for his summary's commencement, seen taking his cue with a returned nod before weighing in with,
"Three-to-one is about what we're up against as far as Maw to Imp manpower, we have the logistical and organization edge on them at the moment, for sure...but they're less than predictable. A lot of the anxiety about these delays from my talks with the men comes from that fact. A lot of the forward observers have said they've seen the tracks of greater foot traffic than what command initially anticipated.", finishing his cigarra and stubbing it out in the moments he paused for further reflection on the matter. The optimism was worrying, but the Captain found himself somehow feeling all the more grateful for it, as such optimism often served as a great catalyst for the fuelling fire of all the greatest last stands in the Galaxy's history, and the likes would most certainly be needed if Noris was to end up joining that dreaded, though prestigious list of heroes.
"But so long as this last delay is the last delay, it shouldn't be much our issue and they'll be nothing but kings of the glass we leave behind."
The testing moment, the greatest of it's kind Karsh had ever known, as not even in all the time Remmel had served as a soldier (and in almost every conceivable form) had he ever found himself needing to consider the psyches of his subordinates in such a way, and to make matters more difficult for the old Captain, this really wasn't something he wanted to deal with in such a setting. Such talk was usually left for the days prior to deploying or for the days following their returns from tours of duty, never quite considered for the sake of not wishing to be the ones the enemy caught slipping, but the intensifying urgency of the situation had called for it, and All-Heart always faced his problems head-on. The entire spectrum of hope and doubt were contrasting right before his very eyes, but Karsh, much to the surprise of himself, was still undecided on the matter, even after vowing to be the one to break the bad news to Sienar.
'You know what, lads? I was of a mind to despair and adapt a plan around it like it was the done thing to endeavour.... But you're both bringing out a stubbornness in me, and whether we make it through this or not - it appears you both have me well-invested in your survival here.'
'But you must both promise that you will ask a sacrifice of me when the time comes.', the Captain continued, dropping his gaze in the realisation that his own efforts would amount to little and less by the time the Maw were expected to cast the old man aside, ruefully understanding his predicament in comparison to others in his shoes. Even if the eventual arrival of the evac-dropships occurred just in time to save them, Karsh was well aware that he was very unlikely to find himself boarding any of them in the end, concluding,
'And if the ultimate sacrifice must be promised by the old, then a vow to protect each other must be promised by the young I see standing before me.... For if we deal with empty promises, or a too-little-too-late circumstance, you will be needing each other to survive it.', as his mind threatened to drift toward thoughts of watching the last evacuation-ships flying into orbit without him.
DECEASED Remmel Karsh
,
Jack E-138
,
Thane
,
Melvain Braxis
