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Chapter Two: Into the Maelstrom

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Toph grips the controls of her Ajax so tight that it makes her hands hurt. It is a fact of life that whenever the bullets start to fly that there is no guarantee that you will come home again, but this is the first time that this has ever happened to a team mate of hers. She remembers the day a few years back when the base chaplin and the flight group commander came to her home to tell her and her mother that her dad was shot down in the Control Zone, and he was officially listed as killed in action. That moment has defined her life, and was one of the driving forces that sent her to the Air Force recruiter when she was old enough. Mom was never quite the same after that. She tried to be brave for me, but I can still hear her crying at night when she thought I wasn't listening. And now Reggie has that pain. Poor boy. What the hell happened in there?

One final thought echoes through Toph's mind: I miss my mom and dad.
 
Neqel refamiliarized herself with the gunner position, in the back seat of Shirley's mecha. She'd been using mobile cannons her entire military career...which happened to span nearly every year she'd lived save for the past dozen or so. Still, she was used to being a pilot and toggling the guns while maneuvering. There was a part of her that relished the opportunity to focus entirely on the offensive, leaving the actual steering to the senior officer in the situation.

Then the squad radio burst to life with the most unprofessional chatter she'd ever heard. Neqel swallowed once, concentrating on the reflexive Meltrandi remoteness that analytically appraised this team and wondered who was on Ops for them. She had to. For there was an unexpected swell of emotion at the sound of that anguish. A sliver of culture that exposure to the Micronians had pierced her heart long ago. All these years of time among them, married to one, mother to three, had worked that sliver in deeper until it'd fractured her once glacial calm.

I remember feeling how that young man sounds now.

Then the Lieutenant gave an order and Corporal Amherst obeyed, turning her full attention to the sensor display and the passive radar and sensors it tied into. She gave an appreciative 'Mmmm' when Shirley parked the vehicle with an optimal field of fire. Good tactical thinking.

Proper military conduct went entirely out the window with the next exchange of radio chatter. Clearly this Corporal Booty was well beloved by the squad. But once again, there was this conversation about Traversers. About something that sounded like it might be the telepathy of Micronian science fiction but more likely madness. Group madness? The most concerning part was that this squad and its effective field command were both planning their next moves on the assumption of this Corporal's death and the presumptive endangerment of his squad based on nothing more than 'Reggie' and his feelings.

Then the Lieutenant asked her squad for their 'feelings'.

After hearing the others speak, Neqel quietly added, "Sir, I don't know the tactical situation as well as the rest of you do. But if we have people in there, ASC Policy dictates we make a good faith effort to rescue them unless doing so endangers our mission." She paused. "Bear in mind, the Zentraedi captured me for reasons unknown. They may hold your men prisoner with intent to interrogate. The Corporal may have lost his life as a tactic to show resolve, to break the survivors. If they know anything of significant military value, it may be in danger of being learned by the enemy."

"After all," she added with a grim smile, allowing this brief indulgence because religious sentiment aligned with the right military decision. "Jesus gave his life so all might live. The least we can do is follow his example and risk ours to save theirs."
 
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Wild Cards - A.T.A.C. Team

His eyes blur as tears well up in them, but no matter how much he wanted to break down and have a good cry, they are all in extreme danger still and they have a mission to accomplish.

With an angry growl, he gets back to his feet. Turning to 'Buddy', he asks, "I don't blame you for this, but you will pardon me if I am less than happy at the moment. Who are you, and what the hell are you doing in here?"

"Buddy" stood for some time facing the blaze before "he" lowered his salute. He casually turned to face Mario, his shiny mirror-like dome helmet reflecting the crackling mega-damage fires but a short distance away. Then, with his right hand, he pointed to his now-illuminated white, medium-sized mega-suit. Mario could not identify the make or model of the suit; the ASC had nothing quite like it. It was streamlined and cut well to the male figure, yet it looked far more like a spacesuit than anything else. "Buddy" indicated bold writing upon his left chest, writing apparently emblazoned there by way of gold magic marker. It read, "Spaceman Sam!"

Tapping the writing with one finger, "Sam" nodded as if pleased and proud.

Then "Sam" knelt down and faced MechaKitten. He tapped the floor a few times, but that failed to take MechaKitten's attention away from roaring conflagration beyond the grate. "Sam" then rose and walked beside MechaKitten. There, he knelt beside the little metal feline. MechaKitten looked up to him. Sam shook his head. MechaKitten looked back to the flames as if expecting someone to walk out of them.

Sam shook his head a second time and held out his hands. MechaKitten, as if familiar with him, crawled up into his grasp instantly. He slowly stood, carefully perching MechaKitten on his left shoulder. MechaKitten hung there watching Mario and Hercules curiously.

Sam returned his attention to Mario and the new corridor they had entered. It seemed to go on for hundreds of yards. He pointed toward the darkness and the unknown contained therein.

*​

Hercules looked up from the floor to see his left leg was on fire. It was only a typical flame, not the monstrous blazes that ate through superstructure. Brushing the fire out with both of his large hands, Hercules rose to his feet, plasma cannon in one hand, the other clenched shut.

Looking down to that hand, he opened his fingers and there was Fat Booty's black reinforced smartphone decorated only with a painting of a huge green ganja leaf - the last remnant of a man entrusted wholeheartedly to the big Greek. Hercules recalled this was the very smartphone Booty had used to take pictures of himself on the corpse of the murdered Zentraedi. Stowing it safely away in his backpack, Hercules silently made ready to move.

The tanks awaited somewhere in this great vessel made to make war across the stars.
 
Mario looks over Sam with a critical eye. "The strong, silent type. I can handle that." He hefts his rifle and starts to walk down the airshaft. "Alright Sam, we are looking for a pair of mecha that was captured by the Zentraedi; Hover Tanks of the Army of the Southern Cross. I don't suppose you know where they would be inside this ship, and be willing to lead us there? We have to get them back or make sure they are destroyed to keep them out of the hands of the enemy."
 
Wild Cards - T.A.S.C. Team

"Top Gun Anthem" by Harold Faltermeyer for the Top Gun Motion Picture Soundtrack. Because it fits. =)


She shook her head and said firmly, "It doesn't change anythin' for us. Unless Iris can tell us more, all we know is that one of the team is down. Our original mission is still up in the air, and our other two may still need us. Now more than ever, with Booty down." She glanced away from the vid pickup for a moment, then looked it square in the "eye." "We can't stop now. Not on what we know right now."

Using the cockpit camera, Shirley returned Elinor's stare with a look of growing understanding. Someone like Elinor could figure out that Shirley knew what she needed to do as squadron leader - she just needed to hear it from her squadron. Reinforcement could promote resolve in a number of ways.

"The Corporal may have lost his life as a tactic to show resolve, to break the survivors. If they know anything of significant military value, it may be in danger of being learned by the enemy."

"After all," she added with a grim smile, allowing this brief indulgence because religious sentiment aligned with the right military decision. "Jesus gave his life so all might live. The least we can do is follow his example and risk ours to save theirs."

Shirley shot a surprised expression Neqel's way. "'Jesus'? You're a Christian?' Whoa, that's gnarly..."

She adjusted her helmet. "Listen, all of you. I know what we gotta do - it's just easier to hear it from you. Know what I mean?"

But then Mack knuckled under and gritted her teeth. She was responsible for the lives of her squadron. She had allowed them to try it their way. The Red Baroness had even led the hot drop into the zone and blazed their way out of it gloriously. She had believed in her A.T.A.C. guys. She had wanted to trust them.

And now one of them wasn't coming home...

To hell with Steele and his damned agenda, she thought. Shirley was making a change.

Mack keyed her mic. "Old Tanker? You got your ears on, sir?"

"I do now, Cygnus One." It was Colonel Sharp and he did not sound good. "Just heard what happened. What have you got for me?"

"I'm... I'm changing the mission parameters."

There was a pause on Sharp's end. "Do tell?"

"Recovery of Steele's tanks are now secondary. I'm going in there and I'm getting my guys back. If we spot the tanks on the way, we'll do what we can, but my remaining tankers are, from here on out, my highest priority."

Another pause. "Acknowledged."

Shirley breathed a sigh of relief. That had been hard to say. Really hard. It went against a lot of the things her own father had raised her with. But the Colonel was not quite finished with her.

"Oh, and lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir?" she responded immediately.

"Go give 'em hell..."

A strong smile came across Shirley's face. "Damned right we will!" She turned to the giant ever-patient alien. "Iris, open that blasted airlock! Wild Cards? Guns high! We're going in!"

(Game Master note for all)
I'll attempt to continue this post tomorrow for both teams. Feel free to post in the meantime. =)
 
A grin spread across Elinor's face as well. Whatever the general's issue, Colonel Sharp is a guy I can love to work for. And Mack's pretty good too. She saluted the vid pickup. "Right behind you, ma'am! Let's get our boys back!"
 
Toph grins. Hearing the religious talk from aunt Neqel is nothing new for her. She has many fond memories of her mother and aunt Neqel 'discussing' the merits of Christianity. Dad was more of a Taoist, but he never tried to influence Toph or her mom to follow any particular religion.

But that was all in the past. Now, with Mack making the call to greet the rest of the squad out as priority one, she briefly wonders just how much shit that Mack will catch from the general if they don't get the hover tanks out in one piece. That ass. I wonder if human life means the same to him as it does for the rest of us. Fucker.

"Muppet here. I'm all set to rock and roll. Iris, can you tell us more about for queen? What does she look like, for one? I don't want to open fire on her by accident. Also, what level of resistance should we expect on the other side of the door? Either way, we're going in."
 
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