[b]Let it Rock[/b]
[hr]

The body Gideon studied was pretty well mangled, but he could make out the gear, "Dressed like Vangar military, class A uniforms," Gideon noted coldly as he crouched down; the boots gave it away. Those were in no way combat boots. The simplest way to check things was to reach into the corpse's collar area and pull out the ball chain from the neck of the poor, mangled bastard laying there, mercifully dead. The weapons were useless, but the dogtags were surprisingly intact, "Leutnant Ritter here was definitely Vangar Army." Still, Gideon wasn't a bastard, he tucked the dogtag back into place for the graves registration types that would eventually, he hoped, bury the man.

There wasn't much hope that they would be rescuing anyone out of this wreckage. For one, it was a military transport of some sort. For two, there wasn't much chance of survivors. Three, if someone did survive, that awful truck would kill them on a bumpy country road just trying to get them out to a regional hospital. They had no way to call for a medevac. They were marking bodies.

The place all around them was broken up pieces, chewed up earth, destroyed landscape from the collision. He'd never seen magical devastation on this level or even heard of it in any sort of historical context; it was a whole piece of living ground just wiped out, and there were still plumes of Mist left over in the aftermath. The heat buffeted them from the fires still burning here and there and there was a terrible smell of fused plastics and metal, and something more coppery and savory; cooked human flesh. That was a new smell for Gideon, something his brain catalogued with brutal efficiency and marked, 'experience trauma later.' While Setzer tried to talk to the old man, Gideon watched, still and tense. 

"Wonder what they were doing here, dressed for a party like that?"

Setzer tried his best with the old man, but one look said that the best they could do was give him morphine, and that wasn't exactly a supply Gideon had handy. It wasn't part of a first aid pack for hiking and there wasn't time to go trying to scrounge it out of this wreck...though it seemed that almost nothing actually was there intact.

Except, of course, some sort of pod. Setzer was the first to it, and took an arrow for the effort. Gideon, as the voice was shouting out warnings, didn't really feel inclined to play, but also didn't have much to play with. But he did have a rock he could pick up. 

"FRAG OUT!"

It was dark and everyone was keyed up. When he threw that thing, he threw it in that pod just like a grenade, and ducked just like he was trying to avoid a blast, pulling Setzer with him. He didn't bother to use magic for that bluff, because it was hardly needed and might have given away that it was a trick -- the thing clanged into the hatch enough like the real thing that a trained person would react the way anyone trained or experienced would react to a grenade; they'd find ground. 

His side knew it was bullshit and bluff, but Gideon also figured that this person had no idea, and she was shooting at his buddies, he had to do something.