Lazybones
Adventurer
Thanks, Zuoken!
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Session 18 (August 25, 2008)
Chapter 65
Consciousness came flooding back in a hot wave that spread from a point in her chest, fiery tendrils pushing back the chill that suffused her body. Catalina blinked, and looked down to see the metallic length of an X-COM medikit jutting from her chest. Her companions were crouched over her, worried looks on their faces.
“You okay?” Jane asked, as she injected the last of the medikit’s contents into her, then pulled it out and tossed it aside.
“My… my leg.” She wasn’t able to get up, but she could feel it now, and as she shifted it reminded her of the pain. “Broken, I think.”
“We need to abort,” Jane said.
“The mission is more important than any one of us,” Cecilia said.
They looked to Vasily; the Russian’s expression, for once, betrayed the conflict that was normally kept concealed under his grim exterior. But it was Catalina who leaned forward, grimacing at the pain, and pushed at him. “Go!” she said, hoarsely. “They know we’re here now, you have to stop them before the alien gets away!”
“We can’t just leave you,” Jane said. “Maybe I can stay, get you back to the Ranger…”
Catalina shook her head. “You’re already outnumbered, and Cecilia’s right. I’ve got another medikit, my laser’s got a full charge, and the armor’s got thermal lining… I’ll be fine. Consider it covering your retreat. Now go!”
Vasily growled something and rose, hurrying back to the doors. They were mostly intact, although the far one had been jolted off its tracks by the force of the blast, and a corner of it been blasted inward, leaving an opening easily large enough for one of them to slip through. Vasily hooked his grapnel on one of the protrusions and kicked the rope into the space below. He could hear the alarms blaring from below, but didn’t hesitate. He snapped a descender onto the line and then jumped, the free play on the rope letting him plummet a good ten feet before the descender began to take up the friction of his descent. Even then it barely slowed him, and he covered the entire drop in just over a second, slamming onto the concrete floor twenty meters below with enough force to send a hard jolt up both of his legs.
Above him, more ropes were dropped through the gap, but he wasn’t alone. The room was a hangar, crowded with a pair of Kamov Ka-60 transport helicopters and the far sleeker outline of the alien scout ship. Smoke from the explosion drifted through the air.
But of more immediate concern were the half-dozen soldiers who started shooting at him even before he’d touched down.
Dozens of 5.45mm bullets filled the air around Vasily as he darted toward the nearer of the two helicopters. He felt several stings as he took hits to his legs, arms, and torso, but his armor held up, and nothing penetrated to something vital. He let out a roar as he brought his autocannon up, the barrels spinning up before rounds started exploding out of the barrel. Two soldiers crumpled, torn into shreds. He reached the helicopter and ducked behind the landing gear assembly just as a rifle grenade streaked past and hit the wall behind him, erupting in a cloud of heat and smoke and metal shards. He felt a more persistent stinging pain in the back of his neck, but ignored it as another soldier came into view, fire flashing from the barrel of his AK-104 carbine as he poured rounds into Vasily’s hiding place. Sparks flashed from the helo’s hull, and something caromed off the side of his helmet, but that didn’t affect his aim, and a quick burst put the man down. Several others were shooting at him from various points in the hangar, but they were hanging back, using cover, working to flank him. More men kept arriving, their shouts barely audible over the chaotic sounds of battle that filled the hangar.
He heard a noise above and looked up to see Cecilia descending, her armor giving her an almost robotic appearance. She was drawing fire, and Vasily could see the flashes as rounds rebounded from the armor. She was operating the descender with one hand, the other holding her laser, pulsing out beams of energy that drew black slashes along the walls of the hangar. She didn’t hit any of the guards that Vasily could see, but the wild fire drove them back into cover, giving him a brief respite.
He took advantage of that opportunity to throw a grenade into the densest cluster of soldiers. It exploded with a thick *thump*, and he could hear cries of pain and shouts in Russian that were all too familiar to him. He ignored them and moved around the back of the helicopter, looking for targets. He saw a soldier dart out from cover at the same time that the man saw him; the other man was faster with his lighter weapon, but before he could pull the trigger a bright beam sliced across his face, and he fell, screaming.
He heard Cecilia’s landing; the heavy thump reverberated through the floor. Hadrian and Jane were both coming down now, the Marine descending almost as quickly as he had before. The surge of new defenders responding to the attack had ended, and the fire coming at them had faded to a few sporadic bursts. Cecilia moved ponderously forward, ignoring the bullets that bounced off her armor. A soldier rose up from behind the alien ship, aiming the grenade launcher slung under his rifle at her, but Jane cut him down before he could fire. Two more men tried to fall back toward one of the exits, but Hadrian shot the first, and Cecilia took down the other from behind with a laser beam that sliced across his back, cutting through cloth and flesh and muscle before savaging the organs underneath.
There were a few fires actively burning in the hangar, now, and Vasily looked warily around for fuel stores, ammunition, or anything else that was likely to explode. A large window along the far wall had shattered, and he could see a control room beyond, empty save for a few bodies slumped over control panels. Two corridors led out from the hangar, and he started toward the one where most of the soldiers had seemed to originate. A deep, sonorous alarm sounded in the background, its beat hammering in the back of Vasily’s skull.
“You all right?” Jane asked him.
“Fine. Is okay,” he said. He led them forward, stepping over a few bodies on his way to the corridor. The others fell in behind him.
They came to an open door that led into the control room. They took a quick look inside, but the monitors were all dead, the power to the panels cut. Vasily picked up a headset left discarded on one of the panels, but it was quiet, without even static to indicate that it had ever worked. They scanned the walls and ceiling, but if there were cameras observing them, they were well hidden.
Vasily didn’t let them linger; within thirty seconds they were back in the corridor ahead, weapons raised and ready, leapfrogging as they came to doors that opened to reveal storerooms, or otherwise empty and unremarkable spaces. In one room they found rows of crates stamped with Cyrillic markings. Vasily gave them a grunt and moved on. “What is it?” Cecilia asked.
Jane, who understood Russian, scanned the room with the camera on her xPhone. “Weapons. Lots of them. Looks like assault rifles, mortars, grenade and SAM launchers, maybe more in the back.”
The hallway came to a bend and continued at a sharp ninety-degree angle to the left. There was a large open door there, beyond which they could see a barracks of some sort. They glanced inside to see that the barracks was also empty, with some scattered magazines, clothes, and other detritus on the floor indicating a hasty exit. A weapons rack had been knocked over, scattering a few rifles and clips of ammunition that hadn’t been claimed. There were a dozen beds in all, stacked in rows two high along the far wall. There was a television monitor hanging on the wall that showed only grainy static, and the alarm continued to sound over it all, forcing them to speak loudly to be heard.
“We better—” Vasily began, turning back toward the outer corridor, but he was cut off as a bright bolt shot between Hadrian and Cecilia, hitting the wall behind them with a explosive blast of plasma energy.
“Take cover!” the Marine yelled, darting back behind the corner. Vasily pushed Jane ahead of him, through the door into the barracks, while he and Cecilia turned their weapons down the hallway, firing toward the source of the shot.
That failed to stop whoever was shooting, as a second bolt streaked down the hall. It hit Vasily in the shoulder, driving him back. He nearly fell, but Jane leaned out and steadied him, pulling him toward the cover of the doorway.
“Gya! Alien weapons!” he warned, trying to keep a hold on his autocannon without falling over.
“There!” Cecilia yelled, as two enemies moved into view, walking down the long hallway toward their position. She aimed her laser, locked on, and fired off a long burst, striking her target in the chest.
But this time, the Russian didn’t go down. The two of them were clad in big suits of heavy armor that covered their bodies from head to toe, and the laser beam flashed against the chest of the OSNAZ trooper, leaving a black scar but failing to penetrate. Their own plasma rifles unleashed bolts of energy that streaked up the hallway. The first shot missed Cecilia’s head by inches, but the second hit her in the gut, slamming into her like a sledgehammer, dropping her to one knee.
“Uuugh!” she cried, as the two armored troopers continued toward them, and the ground trembled with their coming.
Heh, just happened to leave the week that the team invaded a Russian base full of security systems...Plus I was automatically absolved of any responsibilty for anything that went wrong for two full weeks.
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Session 18 (August 25, 2008)
Chapter 65
Consciousness came flooding back in a hot wave that spread from a point in her chest, fiery tendrils pushing back the chill that suffused her body. Catalina blinked, and looked down to see the metallic length of an X-COM medikit jutting from her chest. Her companions were crouched over her, worried looks on their faces.
“You okay?” Jane asked, as she injected the last of the medikit’s contents into her, then pulled it out and tossed it aside.
“My… my leg.” She wasn’t able to get up, but she could feel it now, and as she shifted it reminded her of the pain. “Broken, I think.”
“We need to abort,” Jane said.
“The mission is more important than any one of us,” Cecilia said.
They looked to Vasily; the Russian’s expression, for once, betrayed the conflict that was normally kept concealed under his grim exterior. But it was Catalina who leaned forward, grimacing at the pain, and pushed at him. “Go!” she said, hoarsely. “They know we’re here now, you have to stop them before the alien gets away!”
“We can’t just leave you,” Jane said. “Maybe I can stay, get you back to the Ranger…”
Catalina shook her head. “You’re already outnumbered, and Cecilia’s right. I’ve got another medikit, my laser’s got a full charge, and the armor’s got thermal lining… I’ll be fine. Consider it covering your retreat. Now go!”
Vasily growled something and rose, hurrying back to the doors. They were mostly intact, although the far one had been jolted off its tracks by the force of the blast, and a corner of it been blasted inward, leaving an opening easily large enough for one of them to slip through. Vasily hooked his grapnel on one of the protrusions and kicked the rope into the space below. He could hear the alarms blaring from below, but didn’t hesitate. He snapped a descender onto the line and then jumped, the free play on the rope letting him plummet a good ten feet before the descender began to take up the friction of his descent. Even then it barely slowed him, and he covered the entire drop in just over a second, slamming onto the concrete floor twenty meters below with enough force to send a hard jolt up both of his legs.
Above him, more ropes were dropped through the gap, but he wasn’t alone. The room was a hangar, crowded with a pair of Kamov Ka-60 transport helicopters and the far sleeker outline of the alien scout ship. Smoke from the explosion drifted through the air.
But of more immediate concern were the half-dozen soldiers who started shooting at him even before he’d touched down.
Dozens of 5.45mm bullets filled the air around Vasily as he darted toward the nearer of the two helicopters. He felt several stings as he took hits to his legs, arms, and torso, but his armor held up, and nothing penetrated to something vital. He let out a roar as he brought his autocannon up, the barrels spinning up before rounds started exploding out of the barrel. Two soldiers crumpled, torn into shreds. He reached the helicopter and ducked behind the landing gear assembly just as a rifle grenade streaked past and hit the wall behind him, erupting in a cloud of heat and smoke and metal shards. He felt a more persistent stinging pain in the back of his neck, but ignored it as another soldier came into view, fire flashing from the barrel of his AK-104 carbine as he poured rounds into Vasily’s hiding place. Sparks flashed from the helo’s hull, and something caromed off the side of his helmet, but that didn’t affect his aim, and a quick burst put the man down. Several others were shooting at him from various points in the hangar, but they were hanging back, using cover, working to flank him. More men kept arriving, their shouts barely audible over the chaotic sounds of battle that filled the hangar.
He heard a noise above and looked up to see Cecilia descending, her armor giving her an almost robotic appearance. She was drawing fire, and Vasily could see the flashes as rounds rebounded from the armor. She was operating the descender with one hand, the other holding her laser, pulsing out beams of energy that drew black slashes along the walls of the hangar. She didn’t hit any of the guards that Vasily could see, but the wild fire drove them back into cover, giving him a brief respite.
He took advantage of that opportunity to throw a grenade into the densest cluster of soldiers. It exploded with a thick *thump*, and he could hear cries of pain and shouts in Russian that were all too familiar to him. He ignored them and moved around the back of the helicopter, looking for targets. He saw a soldier dart out from cover at the same time that the man saw him; the other man was faster with his lighter weapon, but before he could pull the trigger a bright beam sliced across his face, and he fell, screaming.
He heard Cecilia’s landing; the heavy thump reverberated through the floor. Hadrian and Jane were both coming down now, the Marine descending almost as quickly as he had before. The surge of new defenders responding to the attack had ended, and the fire coming at them had faded to a few sporadic bursts. Cecilia moved ponderously forward, ignoring the bullets that bounced off her armor. A soldier rose up from behind the alien ship, aiming the grenade launcher slung under his rifle at her, but Jane cut him down before he could fire. Two more men tried to fall back toward one of the exits, but Hadrian shot the first, and Cecilia took down the other from behind with a laser beam that sliced across his back, cutting through cloth and flesh and muscle before savaging the organs underneath.
There were a few fires actively burning in the hangar, now, and Vasily looked warily around for fuel stores, ammunition, or anything else that was likely to explode. A large window along the far wall had shattered, and he could see a control room beyond, empty save for a few bodies slumped over control panels. Two corridors led out from the hangar, and he started toward the one where most of the soldiers had seemed to originate. A deep, sonorous alarm sounded in the background, its beat hammering in the back of Vasily’s skull.
“You all right?” Jane asked him.
“Fine. Is okay,” he said. He led them forward, stepping over a few bodies on his way to the corridor. The others fell in behind him.
They came to an open door that led into the control room. They took a quick look inside, but the monitors were all dead, the power to the panels cut. Vasily picked up a headset left discarded on one of the panels, but it was quiet, without even static to indicate that it had ever worked. They scanned the walls and ceiling, but if there were cameras observing them, they were well hidden.
Vasily didn’t let them linger; within thirty seconds they were back in the corridor ahead, weapons raised and ready, leapfrogging as they came to doors that opened to reveal storerooms, or otherwise empty and unremarkable spaces. In one room they found rows of crates stamped with Cyrillic markings. Vasily gave them a grunt and moved on. “What is it?” Cecilia asked.
Jane, who understood Russian, scanned the room with the camera on her xPhone. “Weapons. Lots of them. Looks like assault rifles, mortars, grenade and SAM launchers, maybe more in the back.”
The hallway came to a bend and continued at a sharp ninety-degree angle to the left. There was a large open door there, beyond which they could see a barracks of some sort. They glanced inside to see that the barracks was also empty, with some scattered magazines, clothes, and other detritus on the floor indicating a hasty exit. A weapons rack had been knocked over, scattering a few rifles and clips of ammunition that hadn’t been claimed. There were a dozen beds in all, stacked in rows two high along the far wall. There was a television monitor hanging on the wall that showed only grainy static, and the alarm continued to sound over it all, forcing them to speak loudly to be heard.
“We better—” Vasily began, turning back toward the outer corridor, but he was cut off as a bright bolt shot between Hadrian and Cecilia, hitting the wall behind them with a explosive blast of plasma energy.
“Take cover!” the Marine yelled, darting back behind the corner. Vasily pushed Jane ahead of him, through the door into the barracks, while he and Cecilia turned their weapons down the hallway, firing toward the source of the shot.
That failed to stop whoever was shooting, as a second bolt streaked down the hall. It hit Vasily in the shoulder, driving him back. He nearly fell, but Jane leaned out and steadied him, pulling him toward the cover of the doorway.
“Gya! Alien weapons!” he warned, trying to keep a hold on his autocannon without falling over.
“There!” Cecilia yelled, as two enemies moved into view, walking down the long hallway toward their position. She aimed her laser, locked on, and fired off a long burst, striking her target in the chest.
But this time, the Russian didn’t go down. The two of them were clad in big suits of heavy armor that covered their bodies from head to toe, and the laser beam flashed against the chest of the OSNAZ trooper, leaving a black scar but failing to penetrate. Their own plasma rifles unleashed bolts of energy that streaked up the hallway. The first shot missed Cecilia’s head by inches, but the second hit her in the gut, slamming into her like a sledgehammer, dropping her to one knee.
“Uuugh!” she cried, as the two armored troopers continued toward them, and the ground trembled with their coming.
