The bakerlite vox rung with an incessant clanging that threatened Zeb's eardrums, but the colonel was too busy to grab it for a solid four rings until he snatched it up like a klohawk from Ras Shakeh. "What!? I told you I needed those batteries entrenched on the left flank... I don't care if you have to yell until the sigilite hears you, if I don't get a report in an hour that satisfies me you'll be court marshalled." He slammed the vox back down. 

"Uh, sir?" Zeb asked, having not deigned to sit down due to the crutches, and he kept his ground while the others had decided to walk, until they noticed Zeb wasn't with them. Colonel Brae turned to regard him, his face hard but filled with confidence only an experienced officer could muster. Almost like Katia, just less practiced and more weather-beaten. 

"Soldier, I'm very bus-...you're Zebulon Conners, aren't you?" He asked, his steely countenance slacking a hair. "Yes, I've heard of you. I should have figured you would be tagging along with the Comissar. Well don't expect special treatment. You look half dead anyway." 

"Don't worry about me, sir. But about your orders, I have to ask...retreat where?" Zeb inquired. He nor Katia, nor any of the men had come from any of the 'hot zones' to the north or east, but they had still lost half of their men and barely made it to Du-retour. Even if they were to be attacked within the next 3 days, he would rather be entrenched in a fortified position rather than back on the road to an evac that likely didn't exist anymore. 

"To alt-sector 206, sergeant. We can update your dataslate-" 

"Dataslate, sir?" Zeb chimed in.

"...We can provide you with a dataslate. Anyway, I was informed you and your men had acquired a rough map that should have the alt-sectors lined out. 206 is southeast from here, past the flat lowlands, I believe. As of four days ago, that area was cleared by our Marauders and Thunderbolts, and major Patrick Cargill has set up a perimeter there and recquisitioned a number of Arvus Lighter shuttles to be used for that purpose that pertains to your mission." 

Zeb blinked. "Are we taking them off-world, sir?" 

"Not if we can help it." Brae said, letting his exhaustion show. The pockmarked youth approached again, a bit less disturbed interrupting Zeb than Katia. 

"Colonel, we've lost two Hellfires to an Ork bombing raid." The boy said, clearing his throat. He seemed skinny enough to almost be emaciated in Zebulon's estimation. He wondered if the lad was with the staff or had been picked up after a sudden case of dead parents? "The casualities are one hundred and eighty seven." 

It was then Zeb decided to turn, resting his weight on his good leg and turning, rapidly approaching Katia and Rikkard. Come to think of it, he wasn't certain why Rikkard followed. If Zeb hadn't been ordered, he would have preferred not to know. Still, his mind whirred with possibilities, thoughts on what they were going to do. If they were going to evacuate, they needed to wait until a bombing run. Not because the Orks would be running away, but because their green asses would be too preoccupied watching the pretty fires and wanting to be part of the fun. Honestly, the best bet for any of the civilians would be to walk unarmed and without an escort. No sport for the Orks, that way. But even then, there were likely rogue units lying in weight, or maybe a flameboy needed some extra targets for their new flammah, and none of the PDF troops would ever let their wives and children leave without an escort. But if they were going to go, they needed firepower, and a lot of it. 

That or an idea...