[center][h2][b]Ilshar Ard’sabekh[/b][/h2][/center]

It could have been a trick of the mind, but he thought he was starting to feel the exhaustion. Probably just the heaviness of the qillatu absorption together with the bullets still embedded in his mouldering body. He was not so old that he’d be feeling stiff and dry in the limbs after a couple of firefights and some hurried marching, not yet. Ilshar shook off the familiar post-ethereal dizziness and focused his senses on the now much bloodier battlefield. Their side of the CivSec camp looked mostly clear now, automata and their controllers both reduced to inert masses; on the other end, the guerrillas seemed to have the situation mostly in hand - if it weren’t for the latest surprise the planetary government’s masters had sprung on them, of course.

[i][b]“Got it,”[/b][/i] he rasped into the squad’s comms, [i][b]“I’ll search inside, tell me if the skimmer-worms start looking my way.”[/b][/i]

Unlike some of his squadmates’ equipment, Ilshar’s armour was a simple thing, unpowered for the most part and with little in the way of functional add-ons. Even the helmet, where most of the electronics were, didn’t mount the sort of equipment that could sweep an area like that for something as specific as a certain make of weapon. He did, however, remember that the trooper who had been caught by the Chasm-spores had gone to retrieve a heavy launcher from one of the tents. While that weapon was useless given the height the aircraft was at, even without the risk of lingering contamination around it, odds were good that others were stored in the same place.

Hunching down to reduce his profile in case any surviving CivSec or their scielto allies did decide to turn in his direction, Ilshar sprinted across the blasted ground towards the camouflage tent. By the Nexus’ will, if he did make it he would be in a safer place than any of the others for the time being, but right then he was in the open. The prize had better be worth the risk.