Back at the crashed dropship was a young man laying on the ground, holding onto a sniper rifle and pinning down the opportunistic mercenaries. There were only three survivors in the crashed dropship, fortunately for them, their dropship had managed to keep the ashtar missiles off them long enough to reach the atmosphere, despite losing most of the squad plus the pilots, they at least were spared from the fate of being sucked out into vacuum.
All the while he was firing off the rifle, his other comrade was patching up the badly injured third with medical gel. "Hurry up! Mercs are gonna swarm us any minute!" The sniper asked with a desperate tone.
"I'm trying the best I can!" The medic responded. "Goddamn gel takes forever to take effect!" before long, several more technicals had arrived, with more mercenaries pouring out, before the sniper could even react, a hail of bullets followed by the reinforcements, too many to dodge, several manged to pierce his combat armor, two hitting his arm and shoulder, forcing him to drop the rifle and convulse in pain, gripping onto his arm. "FUCK!!" he swore out in pain.
In a panic, the medic picked up the injured soldier over his shoulder, looking, he quickly shouted "Run!"
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