[h2][color=lightblue]Skye Rosalind Lyons[/color][/h2]
[u][center][h2]Valle Natales, Torres del Paine, Patagonia, Chile[/h2][/center]
[center][h2]Fireteam Condor[/h2][/center][/u]
[center][h3]The Sucker Punch[/h3][/center]

Moving through the burnt forest and in the darkness lit purely by only the remaining fires around, Skye kept her rifle high, the MCX in prime position as the trees began to thin closer and closer to the impact site, the ground suddenly having this black texture from the heat, and the kinetic energy that the core had turned this place into. Trees suddenly started vanishing, roots could be seen bare, and then, there it was. The crater itself. It was a hell of a mark on the landscape, a hole about twelve foot deep by about fifty feet across, scarring and directed rather than a vertical hit given the horizontal velocity. It had torched the forest coming in, which was still ablaze, as Skye saw the core itself down below.

With it, skidding on the dirt, she approached into the base of the crater carefully, the liquid nitrogen steaming off the core and cooling it effectively, as Skye checked the temperature with her NVG's thermal setting, before going in. 

She gave hard kick to the side of the capsule at its top and knocked a small cone off, exposing the tungsten and revealing the top of the core, reinforced by another layer. Taking her multitool, she began to unwrenched the reinforced joints, yanking them off with sheer force, aware that the satellite's contents would be more than robust enough to be handled rough. Another sharp pull with the exo and the unit came out altogether, about the size of three house bricks, and was remarkably in one piece. All that destruction for one little unit, blimey, what a night this had been. Skye took her combat pack and stashing it inside, slung it back over, opening her comms again.

"Team, I have the core, secure...wait....standby..."
With almost a sixth sense, Skye raised her rifle to turn, but instead was hit in the back of the head, the knock throwing her onto the floor.

"Skye, Rosalind, Lyons....they gave you a really, really pretty name, didn't they? Don't move an inch. We have time before your two friends arrive to talk, and they may yet live." The voice called, masked, but certainly feminine, as she kept the H&K G36 pointed at Skye and stood over her, the two inside the crater and out of view of the rest of the team. Her cloaking suddenly deactivated, and revealed the 6"2, black and red exoskeleton wearing, visored operative holding a rifle at Skye's head. 

"The hell are you talking about? And who the fuck are you?" The Scot's reply was curt, as she looked on dazed in confusion, the other exo-clad figure keeping her eyes locked on through her visor.

"That's no way to talk to me. See, you and me, we have a lot in common. We don't like Artemis. We don't like the world at the moment. Among other things. I was hoping we'd meet sooner, but you have served me incredibly well, so I didn't think to interfere. You really exceeded expectations, saved me so much work up there. Followed the breadcrumbs perfectly, like I knew you would, because I know you better than anyone. Now here we are." The voice was almost metallic, though it was probably the effect of the sealed visor and helmet that Lynx wore, 

"Then if we have something in common, I'm here to help too. And what the hell do you mean? Come on. Who are you? Is being cryptic all you have?" Skye replied, the figure chuckling, shaking her head, Skye feigning how hard the hit had come in, built on her exhaustion. It was a heavy one, but the armour and foam in her helmet had stopped the worst. If she didn't, there was a chance she was as good as dead here. She noted the symbol on her shoulder, that of the Lynx's head, and well, putting two and two together, made that assumption as is.

"A much better version of you. But one with similar experiences, and understands. So do me a favour, sit still, and you'll get some answers and get to help. You might even get to live. For what it's worth, with the bigger picture in mind and the only people who matter to you, I'd advise it." With it, the exo-clad operative yanked out a vial that was in her hand and with it, leant in, and pulling the cover, revealed the needle underneath. She leant in and taking advantage, so she thought, got it ready.

Skye knew there was only one chance to stop this. It could be poison, or worse even. Skye couldn't have that or it was lights out. And what did she mean by that?

She brought her feet in close and kicked the operative hard in the stomach, sending them over as she stood, rifle up, and turning, sent rounds down range, full auto, full desperation, dumping the entire magazine into Lynx.

And yet nothing happened.

"Oh, you really are living up to your reputation, a hot head! Well, I didn't think you'd come easily.....but that just makes it a bit more interesting! Come on then, let's dance a little! I'm taking that core with me, with or without you!" Lynx grinned underneath her visor, the black tint making it invisible as Skye realised what had happened. That wasn't so much a Trophy System or something to snatch rounds out of the air as a portable field generator instead - the bullets held in mid air and then harmlessly deflected out, Skye in absolute shock. A portable forcefield, more or less. Something Skye had heard about in skunk works with a limited ability, but nothing like this. It was attached to Lynx's back, and coupled to the power unit of her suit.

"Shit!" Skye muttered to herself, in utter disbelief. This wasn't good. Oh, this was very, very bad. Something had to be done. And with a twist, Skye lept back, the exo clad rival following as she used her sidearm, rolling and moving out of the crater, skidding behind a stump and firing back at Lynx, in vain, yet knowing it had to overwhelm the system, somehow. With it, Lynx fired back, a couple of rounds clattering off Skye's armour, but Skye managed to roll, using her exo to dash out of the way, before laying down fire herself, forcing Lynx to do the same. She used a mini missile system on her shoulder to lock, then fire on Skye, but not before she used a treeline to duck and weave off fire, hailing more wood and chippings everywhere.

"Team, get onto me, now! We have a contact with an unknown operative, singular, highly advanced tech....they have a fucking forcefield!" Skye yelled into the open comms, knowing the shock that would hit- this operative wasn't like the other exo wearers, hell, even anyone she'd ever seen. It may as well have been an alien that had dropped out of the sky too, but Skye knew there was a person in there. With a sense of fucked up wit, no less.

Of course, Lynx wasn't going down without a fight. When you had an exoskeleton that was next generation, had cloaking, a field generator that basically doubled as a small-scale forcefield, and an exoskeleton that outperformed Skye's, you could do more damage than three members of the team put together. Plenty more power, plenty more tech too.

Skye switched tack, as Lynx fired rounds in the direction of Skye, as she got some back over, the rounds clattering her suit painfully, the armour holding just about as Lynx lept up and over the trees, crashing into Skye. 
"Oh, come on, you can't run now! We barely even got started!" Lynx yelled back playfully, with her legs between Skye's body, as Skye wrangled and pulled her down and below, the Scottish redhead running on every cylinder left, yelled back.

"Argh....die, you fucking bitch!" Skye yelled back, and throwing a punch, Skye getting free and not held back, aiming straight for the faceplate and getting a hit, smashing it apart through the side of Lynx's helmet. And what she saw....well, it completely, if not totally, stopped her in her own tracks. The professional, cold, calculated and furious Scot for the only time she ever would, froze in almost dead disbelief, looking at the nose she'd detonated with the punch, and the bloody face it had left.

"Wait, what!?" Skye called, as the operative took advantage of the shock and with it, pulled Skye in close with a headbutt before kicking her away and yeeting Skye into a shattered tree, Skye's gut in agony with how hard she'd been sent. She yelped, standing up again and raising her rifle, Lynx in shock too, now angry, more than witty.

"Oh, you got me good now, Skye! Well, how does looking at you look? First time looking inside of what you are?" Lynx yelled, wiping the blood away, and well, it was all revealed. If she looked similar to Skye in height before, and the bare tone of her vocal cords in a neutral English accent, it was effectively because she WAS, Skye Rosalind Lyons. Or Skye was her. The Scot had no idea. The red hair, the face, the resistance, all of it. De facto, it was Skye's face and look, the same person, in another exo, in another setup. Lynx's nose was shattered, and her face was heavily lacerated, but there was literally no denying it. 

It was far, far too much to take in. Was it a twin, a clone, a sister, someone from a parallel dimension, fuck, was something else going on, and what the hell was happening? Also, how the fuck was she this well equipped? An exo like that had to come from a place not even Skye had access to, which was even more harrowing. And worse, oh worse, she had the same tolerance. Like she was tough in her skin and fought relentlessly, unfazed by the fact she'd been hurt pretty seriously with Skye's armoured fist. Because despite the face of blood, she looked like she was just going up another gear. Exactly the same way Skye would fight. And exactly the same resilience. 

Skye had no idea. And before she had to think, Lynx laid down fire more accurately this time, spraying rounds as this time into the stump Skye was backed onto, and with the reload, Skye took the initiative to run, and not hold, using her M32 instead to flump rounds backwards, darting between trees remaining and skidding through the muddy and gravelly forest. The explosions held the way for a little while, but not for anywhere near enough, as Skye charged every breath in her lungs.

She'd pissed off Lynx, and worryingly, she was doing exactly, if not precisely what she would do herself. Whoever this was, she was as well trained as Skye was, and trained the same. It was like two equal forces sparring, Lynx with an upper hand due to her tech, but Skye having the upper hand due to sheer bloody will. 

[b]"Team, I'm headed to you, I'm being chased....fuck, fuck fuck, she's me, the operative's me! Chaos, find whatever way you can to disable her electronics, exo and that forcefield, anything at all, Frigga, just fucking coat everything in fire and brimstone, get personal and rip her to bits if you have to once that's down! There is way too much shit to say right now, just put everything down onto her! She's got moves, I'll hold her as long as I can, she has way, way better kit than us!"[/b] Skye yelled, knowing that in this instance, there was no way she was winning alone. But even when they would arrive, they'd be up against it. 

And for the first time ever, the team could hear it. There was always intensity to Skye, a fierce warrior. But right there was the sound of someone who was suddenly in complete, total disarray, in utter disbelief and shock, and unquestionably, a level of fear and horror. 

She was terrified, more so than even death.

Frigga was hurting, and Sam was probably at the end of her line too- but they had to keep going. Skye was scared for them both, but they were all dead meat if they didn't win this fight. Even with her armour, if Skye knew what an exo was capable of in talented hands, it would be a match for even the giantess of the team, and Sam, well, Sam couldn't stand a chance in a firefight, not against that. What was even more terrifying is that Lynx didn't even stop though she probably knew they were there to join in the fight.

Lynx saw that as just evening up the odds a little. And for someone outnumbered one to three, did not back down at all. She went even fiercer.

The burnt forest was a hell of a place for a showdown, Skye taking a moment to readjust herself, reload and use the break. Skye herself was slowing, as she skidded behind a tree, seeing Lynx cloak up, albeit visible on infrared. She was moving just as fast, the blur giving her away, but right here, every millisecond would count. 

Lynx slammed into the forest floor again, as Skye moved out of cover and yelling, went in direct with her combat knife. Forcefield or not, she could kill her another way, close in, using the blur to find her. But Lynx was just as fast, deflecting, going for a kick as Skye returned the move, throwing back. She was stalling. Not winning. Praying that any second, Sam could do something about that forcefield. And on prompt, get away before Frigga could torch her. Light her on fire or rip her apart with Starbreaker, whatever it would take.

"Fuck right off!" Skye yelled, hurling her into a tree, as Lynx sprayed rounds, forcing Skye to dive, Lynx coming back across and grabbing Skye and throwing another punch, throwing the knife out of Skye's hands, throwing her down onto the floor and getting ready to stomp on her head, as Skye rolled away, Lynx licking her bloodied lips, hearing the sound of the other two coming over.

"And no introduction to your friends? I'd expect better hospitality from a Scot, because they'll be joining you!" 

This wasn't a boss fight, no, this was a version of the already supercharged version of the team leader in parallel. It didn't make sense at all, in any way. And as Skye switched to her pistol, she tried to re-establish herself, knowing she couldn't give much more, but she would give everything she had left in her tank. 

----------------

[h2][color=YellowGreen]Tahlia Harris[/color][/h2]
[u][center][h2]Isla Langosta / Lobster Island, Colombia[/h2][/center]
[center][h2]Fireteam Piranha[/h2][/center][/u]
[center][h3]Extraction Action[/h3][/center]

Tahlia got busy relocating, as all hell broke loose down below, Boomer blowing up more shit, destroying as many people as she could, and then blowing up even more with the explosives from earlier. It was incredible, as Tahlia silently trod through the jungle, her prosthetics hurting a little from their attachment, as it always was. She knew she wasn't Skye, she wasn't Sam, Boomer, any of them. She wasn't exactly Scimitar material, but she knew how to survive, and hide. 

A couple of guards were on patrol, clearly aware of the sniper's presence. With it, Tahlia got down, and laid dead still, watching as they scanned, looking for the shooter. Tahlia was a little wiser than to have the rifle in hand. The small MP7A2 pulled out, she picked up her sight, and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, did what she had to. Hearing it up close was different to the world away that it felt from afar, so to see the whites of their eye, know it was her on the line if she got this wrong, that tension, that feeling...it felt strange, yet back easy.

Two dead Artemis guards later, and Tahlia moved on, continuing to relocate, hobbling through the rough terrain, and clambering up, the ghillie-suited Kiwi fining her next spot, by a clattered tree, and finding a perfect cubby-hole inside of it. Sliding down her spotting device on her rifle, she adjusted the bipod once again and sheltered herself in, using the foliage to cover herself, and the end of her camouflaged rifle, bringing the site back into focus.
"Back in. Still at work, Boomer?" Tahlia remarked to knowing it would be no response, the giant inside and now destroying everything in there, the explosions and him moving inside indicative of it.
"Jaguar, you alive?" Tahlia asked, the New Zealander's accent coming with that unique twang- it was almost indescribable, but like Australian with a weirder, throatier inflection to it, lower pitch than higher squeak. Her accent made her sound like a right farmer too, a rural charm to it in a way.

"Target is eliminated. Tejedor is dead, I have the intel. There are a lot of guards. Go without me. I'll find my own way off this island." Jaguar's response was cold, even by Tahlia's standards. He sounded like he had nothing inside, given what had happened, he probably didn't want an examination of his feelnigs.
"Shit, they are going to swarm, you..."
"Negative, go. I'll do my thing. I'll catch you up later." Tahlia sighed, knowing Jaguar probably would. He'd get out under his own steam. Right now, she had Boomer to help, because Spectre was a priority target. And what a shitshow it was. She got on the rifle and checked her optic, watching Boomer go in, and with it, seeing a squad run towards, through the blown up gate, as Tahlia sniped the one at the back, the one at the front, then with two more high power rounds, blasted the other two as they ran for cover, predictably in a sniper lane as she would have liked them to be. Sounded like Chuck had Spectre- and was getting out of there. With it, Tahlia repositioned her rifle's aim, new magazine loaded, and picked up another team on the dock. Picking the first man with a clean blast through the top of his torso, she moved to the next, hearing a few sprayed rounds come from one of the other posts, exhaling and dumping the air in her lungs, before refocussing, realising it was blind fire, at least, in her vague direction to try and throw her off. She didn't care. It was easy enough to shoot, as she found that place in herself, and with an adjustment of wind, clicked away, and blasted the man's head with another .338 round.
"Scratch a few. Head for that RV, Tiny Nord should be there, soon."

===

As Spectre came to a little bleary, he uttered up to Chuck, the large armoured man carrying him making it clear. 

Spectre was slowly realsing how shit-showed this had been. The entire setup. Tejador hadn't sold him out, no, there was only one person. Raven were coming for them, but for him to be here, right in this moment, attracted to a setup, it felt like serendipity for some architect. And it was only in the bleary coming to, before he passed out, he could utter it out loud.
"Who are you? And are you with.....wait, it's her, isn't it? She fucking.....she sold us out. She was never in it for us. She's in it for her." She muttered to Chuck, before going out like a baby again, dribbling now.