[center][h1]Ashes Beneath the Burning Sun[/h1] [i]Cry for days of past. For, you shall never taste its decadence again. - Message from Omnic Warlord Drákon[/i] —[/center] Fareeha, Pharah, held a Ra Seeker in her hand. The factories that mass produced these deadl rockets had long since been lost to the omnic war machine. She didn’t know the current state of the supplies held by the Egyptian Security Forces (ESF). That wasn’t her role however. She was a soldier. Captain of the 5th Company ESF Sky Jumper Corps. Or what was left of it. “Captain.” Looking down from her makeshift lookout. It was Lieutenant Alawa. “Still no word from C-COM. No word from the forward scouts either. We’re cut off.” Pharah frowned. Gripping the rocket tighter. “Our orders are to hold this sector until the civilians make it out. We're being pushed back. There’s nothing we can do about it. What we can do is ensure our people make it out,” she said. She pointed out towards the devastated city of Cairo. Plumes of smoke clogged the darkened sky. The sun hadn’t graced Egypt since the omnics came. “You saw what the tin cans did at Tanta.” Alawa nodded. “Then we hold the line.” Getting up from chair, Pharah looked once again at the wall that kept the sun away from the children as they learned. From the fallen drawn pictures and art supplies that littered the floor, she supposed this was an art room. Maybe elementary. Some had potential. Pharah wondered where the children were now. Were they part of the body count that littered Cairo’s streets? Or had they made it to the exodus caravans? Leaving the room, Pharah made her way towards the makeshift infirmary her medics and company doctor had thrown together. The doctor was a civilian, drafted in by necessity. Dr. Marsal. A orthopedic doctor turned trauma surgeon. His tongue was as sharp as any scalpel. His ability to save the most extreme of cases, however, kept Pharah from reminding him that she was his superior. The infirmary was laden with at least two dozen rows of stretchers. MEDVAC had been called, but Pharah doubted it’d come. A decision had to be made. Spotting the doctor taking off dirtied gloves, Pharah came to stand by his side. She looked at a private. She noted the sign made by the medical personnel. He would be remembered in the peace to come. “Doctor.” “Captain.” Gesturing away from the wounded, Marsal followed her until they were given some privacy. “Condition of the wounded.” “Straight to the point as always,” said Marsal. “Some of them can move. Non severe to mild wounds. Four can’t move. Too many wounds from the most recent omnic core. Five can wound dozens. By god, Captain. Staying is suicide! No supplies, and I am expected to pull a miracle! What am I to do—“ Pharah held up a hand. “You are to perform your duty. Nothing more. Nothing less. You are an officer, and I expect you to act like one,” she said. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Take care of your outbursts, doctor. C-COM hasn’t replied to the nature of our orders. As such, we’ll maintain our position. In the off chance our orders change—“ “You want to triage. To decide who to leave behind.” “A decision I don’t take lightly. If I could, I'd get everyone out.” The two lingered in silence. The two staring at one another. Marsal broke away from her gaze first as he started to bite his thumb nail. Knowing when to give up on a lost cause was something his profession beat into him well. During his training years as a resident, he saved more lives in the emergency room than he lost. The ones he did lose, however, he remembered them well. The dead haunted him. As he was sure it haunted the soldiers and the captain. There was something transient about saving lives, yet permanent when a life was lost by his hands. He didn’t like the question, but the logic, militaristically, made sense. Save what she could. That was how the captain thought. A burden they both shared. “I’ll have the medics find objects that can be made into crutches or whatever else we’ll need for mobility. I’ve taken the liberty to mark those that are too forgone to fix with current supplies. Two coded in the last hour. A detail I chose to neglect to tell you. Medical officer discretion,” he said slowly. “The mark is a three dot triangle. The medics know. Certain signs are associated with good and bad. I wanted to make it as ambiguous as possible. “Egypt never prepared for this war. We’re paying for it now. Still care for the 5th. Hated the conscription ever since the omnics started their northern push. Could’ve gotten out when I had the chance. But here we are. The 5th my home until I see my family again past the Nile. Until we meet our loved ones across the Nile shores.” Sentimentality was something Pharah seldom heard from Marsal. A moment she would not waste. She placed a gauntleted hand on his shoulder. “We may never be on friendly terms, but we share a common thing. Our love for the 5th and Egypt. Until we meet our loved ones across the Nile shores. Ensure we’re ready to move, doctor.” “Captain!” Dorian, their lucky private who should’ve died many times over, ran towards the two officers. “East lookout spotted activity. We’re setting up now.” Pharah was already on her way. She checked her armor’s power unit and her ammunition. She was low. Power wasn't looking good either. The 5th had been fighting on for too long without resupply. “How many?” “Unknown. We can’t get visual confirmation on omnic or humans. Shadows, ma’am.” The eastern perimeter was comprised of the bulk of the company. Facing towards the direction where omnics held ground, it made the most sense. The rest of the perimeter was covered by squads and whatever else could be spared. It concerned her that activity was spotted now. Blind to the immediate area, the scouts never reporting back, she was going into this fight blind. An unfortunate situation of war. Reaching the eastern perimeter, Pharah took cover behind a crumbling wall, her visor’s interface pointing out points of interest on her HUD. “Platoon leaders, check in.” “1st platoon. Good to go.” “3rd platoon. What’s the word?” “2nd platoon. Ready to go, Cap.” “1st and 3rd, activity spotted. Pass orders to confirm omnic or humans before firing. Confirm orders.” “1st platoon copies all.” “3rd platoon reads loud and clear.” Pharah opened a map of the area on her HUD. “2nd platoon. Keep an eye out. Shift and react. Officer's discretion. Confirm.” “Got it, Cap. You worry about the front, we’ll worry about the back.” Right when she was about to move towards the other side of the wall, bullets slammed into her cover as she ducked down. Priming her rocket, she peeked around her corner. Omnics. “Weapons free!” she shouted into her comms unit as 5th company began their orchestra of death. Taking aim with the help of her HUD, she fired a rocket as the smell of Ozone filled her senses. She smirked as metal shrapneled in all directions. “Dorian!” The private weaseled his way past the incoming bullets to her side. “Must be three — four cores! Twenty units?” Pharah ignored his comment. “Get me five jumpers, those with fuel to spare. Go!” Dorian was dashed off as bullets pelted around him seconds too late. Pharah shook her head before continuing her rain of fire. Hearing a number of footsteps behind her, Pharah saw the jumpers Dorian managed to scrap together. Seasoned jumpers. Three privates. A corporal. A sergeant. “You five with me. Dorian, hold this point. Let’s go.” Leading her small squad to the second level floor, Pharah kicked open a door marked with a large red circle. Looking at the huge hole above, it was a clear shot for a jump. Cognizant of the sound of war around her, she looked at the five grouped around with her. “I’m not going to lie. We may be outmanned, and we have near zero intel. For all that we know, our flanking companies may’ve already fallen back. Us being left behind.” Pharah primed her jet pack. The others did the same. “But our orders are to hold until the exodus caravans are away. We save hundreds with our blood. Are you with me?” All present nodded. “Until we meet across the Nile shores.” With that, Pharah turned towards the opening and thumbed the ignition. The synchronized sound of jet packs filled the room. Tapping into her jumper breathing technique, her feet left the ground as she tasted the freedom felt by so little. Reaching maximum altitude, Pharah hovered as she fired rocket after rocket from above.