Princess Angaria Velostroya of the Destined Northern Empire had not been idle during her captivity. Never particularly a wallflower of a so-called 'noble' or 'Royal', she had always been active, involved, and eager to learn a wide array of martial skills and useful traits, despite her father, and her fathers' staff, insisting instead that she should stay safely in the palace.
Of course, the fact that her father was dangerously paranoid, and that her fathers' staff all wanted to keep her under control to shape their own careers and plans probably didn't help. And as she'd grown older, forming her own ideas and plans had been key to her, and learning all of these skills using her influence as a member of the royal family was a stepping stone.
So, even after being captured unexpectedly during a raid on her low-profile journey into Landren, she had been plotting to escape. Being interrogated had been a hindrance; she had held out as best she could, giving only the tiniest bits of information and making it seem like each was a huge revelation. And, she had to admit to herself, she had come close to breaking each time. Whatever hardships she'd gone through were nothing compared to the actual experience of being interrogated by the humiliating and horrifying hi-tech procedures of the South.
She'd been engulfed in a haze of desperate sleep, gathering her strength and wits for a few hours after her last 'session' with the Southern commander. She'd been left in the mostly darkened room, handcuffed to a pipe this time. That itself had given her some satisfaction; she'd lost her cool during the last 'session', and lashed out at the Southern commander, leaving him with a raggedly cut face from the shard of pottery she'd managed to palm from a shattered coffee mug.
By her own mental count and the slivers of light from under the door, she'd worked out it had been a few hours. A short while ago she'd heard GEARs in action and moving out, and then the distant sounds of combat. Men and women outside had been active, and no-one had checked on her, or fed her for a while.
Not long after that, there had been explosions nearby, gunfire and more shouts and running feet. Rousing herself, she had found herself
There was a rumble and a creak from above, preceded by nearby gunfire. She saw the ceiling bulge, and her red-tinged eyes widened as she hugged herself tight to the wall.
All of sudden the world was lighter, and she squinted in the haze, feeling slightly dumbfounded as a blood-stained mess of a canine, now covered in dust and debris freed her, and declared himself to be part of the LDF -
my luck is in, she thought to herself, standing on shaky legs and shaking her head as she rubbed her wrists.
"I am fine, thank you Lieutenant" she answered in a musically accented, rich, cool voice, her red-tinted eyes gleaming in the light and standing out against the jet-black and ash-grey of her fur. Like many Northeners, and especially the vulpines of her people, she had small ears and a shorter muzzle than, say, Blade, and was more compact and solid, but far from unattractive by any estimate.
She tilted her head and listened as the Lieutenant stammered out a rapid-fire explanation, her muzzle quirking into the first smile in days at his mention of 'noble blood' and the Landcruiser.
"I'm not a crystal vase, Lieutenant Sykes" she said gently. "I believe I can survive being put on a Landcruiser for some time. And it certainly sounds better than the current accomodation," she added. "And besides; I would very much like to speak to the LDF and your superiors. In fact, it was my intention in coming to Landren in the first pla-"
He collapsed and she moved forward to assist him, but halted as he reassured her he was fine. She didn't buy it for a moment, but allowed him to lead on, keeping behind him as he moved forward, the snub-nosed PDW he had leading their way.
***
Nathaniel and co heard the explosions and the gunfire and double-timed it up the staircase, their view through the interior window giving them a good perspective on the reaction by the Southerners as they moved to try and contain whoever was disrupting their operation. They breezed through the rest of the structure as they headed up the stairs, dispatching two more Southerners in their robot-like armour with some difficulty; they were burning through ammo far, far too quickly.
Finding themselves flanking a door, they made ready to breach once more, Nathaniel taking the lead. As he was about to open the door, it opened from the opposite side. Everyone raised their weapons in alarm; only to pause - thankfully - as it turned out to be none other than Aidan, and with the Princess in tow.
"Captain, fire team, Kiel- uh, Kella? Ke-Keyla? Meet Princess Velostroya."
"You?!" Said Kellia in surprise, and then gave a worried look over the medic, who was covered in cuts, scrapes, bruises and a worrying amount of blood, dust and dirt. "...You don't look so good," she answered after a moment. Her eyes drifted to the Princess, who gave a hesitant, cool nod, which the ferret returned, wide-eyed.
"Sykes," said Esailia after a moment, overcoming the sudden surprise return of the GEAR-piloting medic, and his single-handed recovery of the Imperial Princess. "If you're okay to walk, then let's move. Keep the Princess in the middle, and let's double-time back to the ATV!"
Without waiting for any further comment, she lead the way as they headed back down the stairs at a trot.
***
Meanwhile, Blade hustled his own way down the street, heading for the last known location he had for the rest of his unit; primarily Mike and Kuraiko. His helmet radio still worked, and fed him the comm-circuit from the GEARs as he hoofed it down the street, the SMG he'd picked up earlier in his hands as he jogged.
The wail of emergency vehicle sirens sounded around him, dust and ashes swirled through the air and the smell of burning buildings; the mingling of charred plastic, wood, flesh and materials, tickled his sensitive nose.
All this from three Southern GEARs, he thought miserably.
Even the Imperials had shown more restraint about damaging Martenstown itself. The Southern forces had shown no such restraint, plowing through buildings, vehicles and property with abandon, and not caring about collateral damage. It raised a knot of anger in his stomach, and the hackles on his neck.
"Tango down, Sit Rep, Blade, Irry, talk to me!"
"Nawlin, Blade here. I'm okay, nothing wounded except my pride. My
Harlock is a write-off, but it kept me safe. I'm moving to your position now, over".
He rounded a corner and then immediately put his hands up, eye wide, as he came face to face with an infantry squad. The click and clatter of weapons and gear as the soldiers trained their guns on him was heart-stopping, before there was an exhale of breath and the horse nearest him waved them all down. "It's okay, he's LDF, one of ours." They passed the word along and moved past him, the horse eyeing him over, before offering him a cigarette grudgingly. The fox accepted and returned the wary eye with a nod.
"You're one of the ones who stopped 'em then?" the equine asked, and Blade nodded silently. "Sorry we didn't do it sooner" he offered, at which the horse snorted and shook his head.
"Didn't look like you coulda," he replied with disgust. "They damn near tore through us, and you, like we were cheap toys." He jerked a hoofed thumb toward the direction Blade was headed in. "Two more of yours bought it that way. Saw one of 'em eject... not the other. Hope they're okay."
Shit, thought Blade, a stab of fear digging into his heart.
Someone else is down? Swallowing the moment of panic, he glanced in the direction before taking a long pull from the cigarette, welcoming its' calming effect before he spoke again. "I don't know what your mission is currently, soldier," he replied, "but there's a warehouse where those assholes came from. Might be something worth checking out, and takin' care of".
The horse eyed him, and raised his PADD, displaying a map of the area. Blade highlighted the appropriate block, and the soldier nodded in thanks calling it in. Within a couple of moments, a wheeled APC and a pair of fighting vehicles growled past along the street, followed by ATV's and more soldiers.
"The GEAR is that way," the horse added as he began to head that way. "I saw one of your guys dismount and take a look into it... I'll call a medevac that way too. Thanks for the help, sir"
Blade nodded and waved him off, as he carried on his jog in the direction of the GEARs.
Irry had blacked out from the ejection; this was nothing unusual. The shock of going from sitting upright in her seat to being accelerated to over 8g of force in a few seconds was enough to make even the most hardy of people more than a little woozy. She came to drifting in the air, Martenstown laid out beneath her and growing rapidly bigger as she dropped lower quickly.
"Holy fuck Irry! Irry talk to me!"
Aihara, she noted blearily, before quickly shaking her head and taking hold of her parachute risers, steering herself in the direction of a patch of green.
"I'm here," she replied into the boom mike on her helmet. "I'm fine; just a little shocked and stunned. I'm sure I've got some aches, bruises, and maybe even a few cracked bits and pieces, but I'm alive. I'm heading for a field of some kind; looks like a sports ground or a garden, over".
"Roger that," Blade replied on the circuit. "Good to hear you're okay. Make your way back to us, if you're able, otherwise stay put and we'll get someone out to you, or make contact with the local militia or emergency services".
"Roger," she replied, "Out".
The red panda pulled on her risers again, this time steering herself in carefully, and braking the 'chute as much as possible as she readied herself to hit the ground. She folded herself into a half-remembered parachute landing, jarring herself a little, but otherwise coming down uneventfully and laying on the ground a moment to catch her breath, before the wind tugged at the canopy of brightly coloured synthetic fibers behind her. Groaning, she dragged herself to her feet, and set about the task of bundling up the chute.
She didn't have to wait long for the friendlies to find her. A voice called out in challenge as she finished bundling the chute, and she raised her hands to the questioning soldier; a female porcupine and her squad. As soon as they saw her patches and uniform, they lowered their rifles, and took her back to their vehicle.
Blade rounded a last corner, coming into the street where Kuraiko and Mike had headed to the site of Adrian's downed GEAR. Seeing the sleek shape of the sniper-spec machine sprawled in the rubble, he slung his weapon with a hiss of anger and dismay, pressing one hand to the side of his helmet as he heard Kuraiko on the radio again, calling the
Claw as he scrambled up the side of the hare's GEAR, searching for the emergency hatch release.
"Belay that,
Claw, we have local medical assistance inbound. Focus the SAR bird on helping the locals with emergency casualties. I'm at the scene of Keel's GEAR now. Stand by".
He scrambled up beside Kuraiko, clapping the younger man on the shoulder as he tried to pry the hatch open.
"It's okay," he said firmly. "We can do it. Take a step back for a second," he coached the other canine, before kneeling on the GEARs' battle-scarred hull. The fingers of his mechanical left hand moved across the surface of the hull, before tapping on a small square with a recessed top lip. He drew his utility knife, wedged the tip of the blade into the gap and heaved. It sprang open, revealing a latch. He hooked out the handle and pulled hard after moving aside. Explosive bolts fired, and the hatch flew away, clattering to the street.
The emergency services arrived moments later, an ambulance squealing to a halt close by, a rescue vehicle close by. Blade leaned into the cockpit, and grimaced. The machines' cockpit had taken a near-miss. The alloy and ceramic composites were shattred and bent out of shape, pinning the hare in place. Consoles and displays had fractured, or come loose from their mountings and crashed around the small space.
Adrian was in one piece, and after he took a pulse, the fox was relieved to find his pulse strong, but a little erratic. His breathing was also weak and labored and there was a serious-looking gash across one side of the lapines' skull.
"I don't wanna move him," he said to Kuraiko as he clambered back out. "I don't know enough medicine to know what's wrong with 'im. His pulse is strong, an' he's still breathing, but he ain't conscious and he's got a head wound. I'll leave it in the hand of th' professionals," he said, moving aside as the medical and rescue service personnel climbed up and began their work. Reluctantly, the fox climbed down the side of the GEAR and dropped to the ground. He waved up at Mike's GEAR as he tilted his helmet up and scratched as his scalp, before dropping back into place, and stowing the SMG onto the back of his GEAR harness.
"Nawlin! Gimme a lift. We oughta head over t' the warehouse and see what the situation is."
As he waited for the GEAR to pick him up, he toggled the channel to the
Claw. "Homeplate, this is Rider One Actual. Looks like it's all over out here aside from the shouting. Anything on your end, over?"
There was a pause, before Captain Garrett herself replied. "Rider One Actual, good to hear from you. I heard about Lieutenant Keel. He'll be moved to the local hospital shortly. Our tilt-rotor is up and acting as medevac for local services, and we've deployed security troops and anyone else we can spare to assist with the rescue. Our medical staff are also assisting with triage. On the hostiles front, that aircraft has disappeared off the scopes, and there's no further sign of hostiles in the area, over".
"Roger," replied Blade with a sigh. "We're moving to the warehouse to confirm the situation there. Have Maxwell meet us there and we'll RTB after the situation is in hand. Rider one, Out".
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