After spending her childhood on a subterranean colony without ever seeing the sky, half a war on planets with alien ecosystems and the other half on human planets torn apart by a losing war, Rachel enjoyed the trek through an ecosystem close to her ancestral home that, although in the middle of a revolution, showed no signs of carpet, or worse, orbital bombardment. Yet, anyway. And so, as they walked towards the wrecked ship, and possible death, she quietly begun to hum a tune she knew from long ago, back when she’d go to a small club a couple levels above her home every Friday and leave several hours later with the possessions of several strangers in her pockets. Good times, all things considered. Maybe when this was all over, those times could return. She could affect people’s minds, stealing stuff has never been easier.

She stopped when she started to hear distant sounds of the enemy encampment. As they got closer, more could be picked apart - conversations, some machinery. Getting into the bay was far easier than expected. The tank crewmen must have been looking the other way. Oh well, their loss. She took stock of flammable things in their surrounding, but was interrupted by a shift in the behavior of the troops. No way they’ve been found. Whoever was watching them, according to John, must’ve alerted the garrison to their presence. That’s done it, the first person to see them would become a meatshield, the others would become smears on the walls. And then they were upon them.

The first poor sod to lay his eyes on the group would quickly find himself suspended head down in midair between the rebels and his Ascendancy comrades. His armor and body should protect them from fire from that particular direction, but just in case meatshield’s friends had enough wits between them to realize what their grenades were for - especially since the three of them threw proper spacing out the window like a bunch of amateurs - she telekinetically grabbed one of the other soldiers and used him to sweep the others in that group off their feet. They would be back up in a few seconds, time to start cleaning house and hope the Ork, or anyone, for all she cared, would deal with that tank, and fast.

“Sniper fire.” she warned her compatriots, throwing one of the Ascendancy soldiers into the tank with bonecrushing force. Maybe the armor protected him, she wasn’t familiar with that model, but the lack of movement didn’t look good for the man. “Don’t know where it’s coming from, but we’re not the target.” If the round came at them, they’d hear the characteristic crack as the supersonic projectile passed by, but she only heard a distant *pop* of a rifle. Since Reisus heard her hushed ‘elevator’ comment across a busy room when they first met, she suspected he would be able to hear the shot, and thus saw no need to warn the other team. After all, if they were the targets of the mysterious marksman, they’d [i]all[/i] know beyond any doubt. In the thick of the fighting, she paid no attention to the muffled explosion as the jammer exploded above the wreck.

Having cleared their left side, the meatshield has outlived his usefulness. Turning him around, Rachel checked his rank. “Aww, a common grunt, I hoped to snatch an officer.” she muttered, disappointed, and sent the man flying towards the tank. The end of his semi angered, semi panicked scream accompanied by a hollow thud indicated the end of his short flight. “Everyone else doing OK?” she checked the rest fo the group, particularly concerned for the Ork due to his size.