A Cylon sniper takes a heavy toll on the Timber Wolf marines.
Location: Kannur Province Canceron
Related Scenes: 2237-11-01 - The Wagner Investigation
Scene Number: 761
Colonel Ryan gave his rah-rah speech earlier today, announcing the start of offensive operations against the Cylon forces in northern Kannur province. (bbread 6/27 if you missed it) Mission briefings were conducted a couple hours later, and then preparations began. Part of those preparations involved staging some marines on the planet - pesky logistics rearing its head given the number of Raptors available.
This squad, under the command of Sergeant Jayne, came down earlier this afternoon to a village in the foothills of the highland region north of the flood zone. Now it's 'go' time and they're rearing to go join in the assault on a Cylon troop concentration. Just one problem - the Raptor that came to pick them up had a mechanical problem on the way in. It landed, but the pilots say it can't take off until they figure out what's wrong with the engine.
With Sgt. Jayne cursing up a storm on the radio, it was determined that they'd be waiting awhile for a backup Raptor since all the other ships were engaged in an air raid. There's supposedly a mechanic on the way (by ground) to fix the bird, bit in the mean time, there's a bunch of frustrated marines all dressed up with nowhere to go.
Kitted out in the full combat medic garb, Beckham knows most likely who will be most likely working on the Raptor, but of course, he's peeking around for his wife to attend to the repairs as he shifts his rifle up against his webgear and checks over his supplies one more time. "Cate, need me to check your pack?"
Never send a Marine to do a...nevermind, they never even sent the marines, because here they are. Waiting. Waiting for the small dot of orange that's making it's way along the surface roads, bobbing along in a transport. Because hoofing it is definitely last century. Since she isn't driving, Tamlin takes full advantage of her shotgun seat to yell unnecessary instructions to the person who IS driving.
"And that's the fourth time I got stabbed." Evan's voice can be heard as he leans against the hull of the Raptor, talking. It isn't necessarily a talking to someone in particular so much as it is just general talking to pass the time. "I tell you, if I ever see that kid again, I don't even care if he's still seven, I'm beating his ass. Although I guess by now he's probably older than seven..."
All dressed up and nowhere to go was the story of Charlie's prom night. Or so she might claim, just for the fun of it. Why not regale folks with a fun story or two while they're sweating under the weight of their gear. "And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse," she's saying, while checking over her rifle once again, "he shows up not in the rented car he had supposedly ordered, oh no. But on a motorbike. Not even a decent one. One of the stripped down off-road jobs." She loads the magazine back into place and lets the rifle settle back onto its sling, letting out a sigh. "So needless to say, I ended up skipping my prom and went out for burgers with my dad instead." Hey, it's keeping her from thinking about how many bugs are gnawing at the back of her neck. Someone's going to need to shut her or Evan up. Or both.
"Maybe you should stop dating people with knives," Graham says with a shrug, leaning nearby to Evan and cradling his weapon in a way that's not at all euphemistic, "Or at least learn how to step backwards... or not to be in your underwear in a bar..." He shifts his gaze too Charlie and arches his eyebrow and slaps at the back of his neck, "Sure sounds like that not-date prepared you for the marines, Corporal. Hurry up, wait, be disappointed, eat crappy food." He grins through his beard and checks on his lmg for the fifth time since being stuck out here, "Could be worse. We could be relying on Viper jocks."
"Hi honey." Beckham offers to his wife as Tamlin arrives. "Only man in the universe that probably has to call his wife for roadside assistance." he offers with a grin as he leans back after checking packs.
Cate looks over when Beckham calls to her. "Nah I checked it already, thanks. Anyway, not like we're going to get a resupply over here if I forgot something." There was a brief surprise earlier when she realized that the events coordinator from Scorpia was now in their squad, but otherwise Cate's just been waiting. She smirks at Charlie's tale. "Man, sounds like you dodged a bullet there."
The crisp sound of a camera shutter gives Nate away. Not that he's necessarily hiding. Though he is armed, his rifle is slung over his shoulder in favor of the photography equipment he's brought along for the ride. Carefully, he turns his forefinger and thumb to adjust the lens -- capturing these tense, yet casual moments. The shutter sound happens a few more times in quick succession. "Sounds like a pretty good night, all things considered," Nathaniel offers coolly to the would-be prom story, attention training downward as he lowers the camera in his hands.
Cate glances over when she sees Tamlin coming up the road in the jeep, chuckling softly at Beckham's greeting to his wife.
Once the jeep arrives, Tamlin hops down, grabbing her toolkit out of the back, "Well, this is what happens when you get the free oil change and filter." She heads over towards the raptor, moving to consult withe the crew, before she gets to work. Just like a good mechanic.
Evan's glance over to Charlie is filled with a smirk of expression before he looks over at Graham and shrugs his shoulders, "I think the problem was more trying to get out of my underwear in the bar. But if you're in a bar to keep your clothes on, you're doing it wrong." A lean back to the raptor is broken by the arrival of what he presumes to be the mechanic, which is enough to get him moving a bit out of the shade it provides and out further.
"Crappy food? Frak you-" Charlie looks up at Graham, pointing at him. "They were some of the best burgers in Queenstown. Little shack by the shore. Thick, juicy, bacon cooked just right. Man, I still dream about those. Craved 'em after every competition." She hooks a thumb towards Nathaniel as she finds a spot by the wing of the Raptor to prop her shoulder against. It might need help staying upright after all. "This guy gets it." She does catch Evan's look and there's just a little sort of quirk of her lips.
"Five billion miles over its last service," Graham says with a nod to Tamlin as she moves passed him towards the crew, "Just another light second, it'll be fine..." He shakes his head and chuckles at his own 'joke' before jerking forward to stand properly and move away from the Raptor to nearly match pace with Evan, "Remind me never to let you near my sister," he grunts, "Or our grandmother." He shakes his head and his easy grin returns as he blows a mock kiss towards Charlie, "I suppose anything would taste good after dealing with that kind of prom date."
"Remind me when I get back, I have pictures of Tamlin as my prom date." Beckham threatens as he watches the woman at work and smirks. "Burgers? Hell no, there was this place on Sag - I forgot what it was called, but they had these really greasy spoon quality to them, and then they'd stack egg and hashbrowns on it in the morning, and the hashbrowns had these little bits of onion, oh mana from the gods, it was." he says with a chuckle. "I could go for one of those. Maybe two. And a chocolate malt."
Cate hehs softly at Tamlin, "CF should've paid for the upgrade, is that what you're saying? Maybe they should just send you along with all the birds." The mention of Queenstown causes Cate to glance over at Charlie briefly. "We need to petition the gallery for better hamburgers, apparently."
"Oh, except we never made it to the prom." Tamlin, having consulted with the crew, is now shimmying her way under the left wing of the raptor, the sound of a powered screwdriver breaking the silence as she starts to open up the ship to do her repairs. She's working and having witty repartee. Multi-tasking.
Tamlin says, "Strap me on to the top like a hood ornament? I'm down, Doc."
"Hell no, I'd have to clean the bugs out of her teeth later." Beckham counters, a smirk from him towards Tamlin. "If I recall right, that was your fault since you knew where the place was and insisted on driving." he teases.
Bringing the camera back up to his eye, Nathaniel snaps a photo of Charlie as she leans before fluidly moving on to capture a few more of the others. "Gotta admit. I don't remember the burgers in Queenstown to be all that satisfying, but it was a long time ago. Childhood sweethearts?" He asks casually, turning the lens in Tamlin and Beckham's direction. Snap, snap, snap.
"Great," Graham sighs, his attention wavering between Cate and Tamlin, "Now I'm gonna have nightmares about an angry mechanic strapped to the front of a Raptor." He shakes his head and scratches at his cheek as he takes a knee in the dirt, "Nice to see that romance is still alive though. Well. Something like it, anyway." He does his best to survey the area around the downed Raptor, more out of habit than actual intention.
"Marine romance... that's a concept that in itself is terrifying to contemplate. Bullet casings and flashbangs are not the sort of writings of epic poetry." Evan quips as he walks around some, stretching his legs. "Next thing we know you'll be talking about Pilot romance and I'll have to make some kind of cockpit hands on the stick pun."
"Something like that. He took me to my debut cotillion, he's been trying to knock me up ever since. This is the second time we've tied the knot." Tamlin can't see anybody, but she can still hear and participate in the conversation. She closes the panel, moves out from under the wing to start to monkey up onto the nose. "I'm not a Marine, Sergeant. I work for a living."
There's a brief show of tongue in childish display for Graham's mock-kiss from Charlie. "I'll be shocked the day a ship's galley can pull off proper hamburgers. You need a grill for that. Like a real one. With an open flame. Under the sky-" The Corporal lifts an arm up to indicate the one overhead. She sort of squints in Nathaniel's direction as he aims the camera her way, but it's soon on to other things. Like the sappy couple. Which means she can just sort of go back to trying not to overheat under her armor and other gear. "Well, first you have to bring up that it's also called a box office-" She's so helpful, Evan! Just look. "And then we can go into selling tickets to the show."
"Never made it?" Cate says, arching her eyebrows at Beckham. But then he makes it sound like they just got lost. "It was much more interesting the other way."
Without warning, a gunshot rings out. Sergeant Jayne, standing near the Raptor, is hit square in the chest. He falls to the ground, gasping, clutching at his armored vest. The shooter however is nowhere to be seen.
"You don't need to know what we did after we figured out what we were lost. Though the position she's in right now, you may get some ideas.." the rest of the words trail off as a single shot fires and Beckham's immediately alert. Not to look for the sniper, but the fact that Jayne's hitting the ground. "Man down!" he calls to Cate as he's already running forward to get out his pack to work on treating the wounded soldier. "Stay where you are, Tams!" he snaps towards the Raptor, sure his wife outranks him, but...
Cate snickers at Beckham's clarification. She also jumps at the gunshot, but the calls out, "Sarge!" She's scrambling over towards Jayne to help Beckham move him into safety, ready to help out as needed.
Nathaniel doesn't conceal his disappointment when it turns out the couple never made it to prom for much more innocent reasons. "Getting lost is much less cliche, I'll give you that--" The corner of his mouth ticks upward before Nate twists at the hip to take a few shots of well, Jayne getting shot! The combat photographer pulls backward to find cover, turning his camera's attention to the surrounding landscape in the roundabout direction where it might have been fired from.
When Jayne drops, Charlie moves quickly to her feet. One moment she was leaning, the next she's upright with her rifle to her shoulder and the safety off. The woman's not going for cover, either. She moves slowly, angling as she works out the angle and trajectory to attempt to locate where the shot came from. There's a slow, steady pace in the general direction she thinks it came from at least.
"What show is that?" Evan asks towards Charlie before he hears the gunshot, the words having left his mouth for a few moments. The sharp report sends a tendril up his spine that is cut off before the fear can take hold and instead he drops to his stomach, pulling rifle up to shoulder as he starts to scan the horizon. A glance is given to survey the condition of the squad, lip curling into a mild snarl.
Tamlin isn't staying where she is. She's got work to do, damnit! And despite the shot of the sniper, she keeps doing that. Nothing is going to save them or get them to where they need to be, if this raptor doesn't get off the ground. So...she trusts the Marines to do their jobs and give her time to do hers.
The shot rings out like a thunderclap and Graham spins in place to witness Jayne's chest doing the impression of Picasso's idea of a crime scene. "Well piss," he mutters, head snapping to the side to see Charlie doing her stalking counter-sniper thing, as he does the Marine Corps shuffle in her wake, "I'm on your six, Corporal," he stage-whispers, "try not to get your insides on the outside."
"Hold still, Sergeant, help's here." Beckham moves to present his pack and back as a defense as he's already stripping off Jayne's bandage kit and cracking open the morpha capsule. When Cate joins him, he nods to the doctor turned medic. "Keep your head on a swivel." he warns gently.
"That's the plan," Charlie mutters towards Graham once he's at her shoulder. She doesn't bother to go to her belly. The sniper already knows where they are. She does, however, aim to keep at least a bit low while staying mobile. She seems fairly certain of where it came from, flipping the switch on her rifle into 'burst.' There's a gesture towards the general direction for the sake of the others. "Eyes there. Let's give our mechanic room to breathe so we can get our asses out of here." Especially now that they have an injured party.
Nathaniel let's out a sharp whistle, moving his hand free to gesture firmly in the direction of the sniper with his index finger. He keeps one eye pressed to the camera as he crouches down further. "Where are you?" He murmurs, adjusting the zoom feature.
As he's ripping open his package, Beckham catches sight of Tamlin for a moment. He starts to say something. Perhaps witty, perhaps something about their relationship. However, as the shot rings out, the back of the medic's back explodes, and Jayne is baptized in fresh blood, this belonging to the medic that was working on him as Beckham slumps forward, blood trailing from the side of his mouth and nose as he hits the ground and helps the grass grow.
Cate helped to pull Jayne a little bit closer to the Raptor, hoping that the angle was right to shield them from the sniper. Obviously it wasn't. She's helping to get the sergeant's armored vest off. "Frak, it looks worse than I thou--" Before she can finish the sentence, Beckham is hit too. "Becks." It's less of a shout and more of a strangled gasp. Cate is shifting over to him, grabbing his combat harness to pull him up. She's going to drag him into the Raptor, since out here is clearly too exposed. "Someone help me with the Sarge," she calls. Jayne, she means, though it might not be clear.
Second shot, second hit. Evan's eyes snap over to the medics and he pushes up off the ground in a dead sprint to expose himself. "Cover if you have a direction." His tone tries to keep the concern and desperation clear from his voice as he speaks to the others. "Injured to the bird, we work from there." His steps take him in the direction of the medics, letting himself move into next in line as terms of shielding position to help.
Another shot rings out and Beckham is hit, but Charlie can't quite get as clear a bead on this one. The woman tilts her head a bit, still moving forward at a slow pace. "Frak," she mutters, closing her eyes slightly. She stops, shakes her head slightly, and moves a few paces more. "Can't quite get it." She's got the general area, but... "Get the injured inside," she calls after Evan does, similarly, "so we can lift off faster once repairs are done." There's a quick glance to Graham. "Whaddya think about making some noise so the medic can do her job?" aka be a distraction with me!
Tamlin is just moving back to get her equipment into the raptor, just in time to see Beckham take a shot in the back. She stops, for the space of a heartbeat, maybe two, but the shouts of the Marines get her going again, the fact that she can see Cate has him going a long way towards stopping her from running out there to get her man and bring him back. She ducks into the raptor, yeling at the crew, "Spin it up and give me a go/no go."
To Graham the world slows down around him. Every crunch of leaves, every flap of a bird's wing is amplified in his perceptions. It's sudden, but he notices, the flash of a bullet being belched from the mouth of a hidden rifle - behind it, the most expensive mass-produced toaster in the known universe. "Got you," Graham says with a calm near-dispassionate tone, all bravado and machismo evaporated into cold professionalism. Moving with practiced ease as muscle memory kicks in, the Lance Corporal raises his mini mitrailleuse to stare one-eyed down the LMG's iron sights. "It's over there," he says in reply to Charlie, though he doesn't overtly indicate where 'there' is, "Let's get loud."
Nathaniel moves in to awkwardly assist Cate in pulling the injured to safety. "Here," he grunts behind gritted teeth, letting his camera fall slack from the strap around his neck.
And then she's got it. With a little help from her friends- from Graham. Charlie's got the rifle to her shoulder and that finger on the trigger as she gets the cylon in her sites. "New model," she notes, standing up straighter and angling right in that direction. "I've got him," she notes louder. "Matte black, not chrome. Jungle model." Be nice of the photog could capture that. Maybe once they take it down? "Roughly..." she gives the approximate degrees the others can find the cylon- or they could try tracking the direction she's walking and aiming her rifle as she prepares to fire.
With Cate and Nathaniel grabbing his straps to drag him into the raptor, Beckham is wheezing and unconscious, obvious signs that the bullet did some major damage in there. His hand twitches feebly, clucthing into a fist as he's pulled in.
Cate starts hauling Beckham toward the Raptor, but halfway there she cries out and stumbles as a bullet catches her in the gap between her vest and her arm. "Frakking hell," she hisses. But she's still mobile, and after a brief stumble she's pulling Beckham the rest of the way into the Raptor. "Becks, talk to me. I've got you." She's working to strip off his vest to get to work. She spares a glance back out to see if anyone's getting Jayne.
Having gotten to the point where Cate, was working on Beckham, who was working on Jayne -- the trend probably should keep Evan away from the group but self preservation is not needed. Taking up a spot to put his body between the retreating medics and Nathaniel and the general location of the sniper. His rifle tracks around using the information that Charlie provides while attempting to spot the machine. "Easy on perimeter, make sure we're ready for withdrawl once the bird is ready."
After Beckham is in, Nathaniel backtracks. He inches his way carefully back out into the open to collect Jayne. Keeping as close to the ground as possible, his body gives something a jolt as Cate is hit but keeps going nonetheless. "C'mon, I've got you..." He hooks his fingers into the other man's combat harness, "C'mon."
Tamlin is inside, now, as the crew goes through their checks. No joy. And the raptor's getting a little crowded, and she has to jump over a body. Don't look down to see who it is, Tamlin Dorn, to get to one of the side access panels and start digging around. progress, but they're still not there yet.
"I'll say this for the clankers," Graham says as dispassionately as before, "it is very slimming." He frowns deeply when the sniper switches targets well within his own vision, "Corporal, when you're telling all your friends about this." He flexes his fingers cradling the weapon's foregrip, "play up just how darn good looking I'm being, okay? I'm talking shirtless with a bandana around my head levels of sexy." He slowly exhales before letting loose another barrage of COMPLETELY ACCURATE FIRE.
The pack is the only thing that probably kept Beckham from being killed instantly. The wound is nasty, bullet fragments having tumbled and ripped through his back and into his chest as he continues to bleed, his head lulled to the side, lips parted as blood trickles down the side of his mouth.
"Dorn I need your help," Cate calls over to Tamlin once she sees that she's going to be busy with Beckham. "Can you stabilize Jayne?" She remembers that Tamlin has EMT training. Pay no attention to Beckham's blood all over her hands.
Tamlin pulls her hands out of the panel, "Mince, get to that panel, I'll talk you through what you need to do." Having heard Cate's order, she gets down and grabs for the nearest supply of pressure bandages and whatnots, moving to get to work on Jayne. "Yeah, I got him." She's still studiously avoiding looking at her husband.
Mince leaves his chair. "Got it," he says, ready to follow Tamlin's instructions. In the cockpit, the pilot is on the horn with someone at Vanguard, reporting their situation.
Cate works diligently on Beckham, pausing a few times to wince and shift the way her own vest is sitting. "You're gonna be okay, Becks," she tells him, voice trying to be light despite an obvious strain. "You die on me, you're gonna have me and Dorn hunting you down to kick your ass." She glances over at Nathaniel, nodding her thanks for him bringing Jayne in. "Anybody else hurt out there?" she asks, since he can see and she can't.
"Marines, report." Evan calls out both to his side and over his shoulder towards the Raptor entrance. "We can hold off for a few. Heavy shots coming in, Clanker is fortified position so we probably won't dig it out. We'll need to retreat but need to hold our footing until y'all are ready back there."
"Not hurt bad Corp," Graham calls as he tries his damnedest to line up an actually damaging shot on the toaster, "Just a bullet to the face, nothing vital." He grunts and sighs softly, "There goes my after-war modeling career. Ah well; pain heals, chicks dig scars, and glory lasts forever." He chuckles and allows himself a glance towards Charlie, "Think it's distracted enough, recon?" Another spray goes out, like a firehose of poorly-aimed death and limited destruction.
Tamlin knows what needs to be done on the panel, and she trusts Mince knows his raptor well enough to follow her instructions, and so she gives them, walking through the instructions like clockwork. Because it helps to focus and prevent the screaming, yeah?
And Graham does indeed make noise. Charlie approves! But then how could a gun that big not? The Corporal keeps her weapon to her shoulder, firing off another burst towards the cylon practically hidden in the trees. "Not sure if we've hit him," she calls over her shoulder. "He's buried in pretty deep." But she is eyeballing Graham pretty firmly to make sure he is going to be alright after, well, taking some damage to the face. "I'm going to try to get a better angle." Or at least make sure the sniper on them has a hard time getting a shot on their ship and those tending it. So she starts in closer to the trees.
Nathaniel does his best to assist Tamlin in getting Jayne settled. That mostly entailed getting the frak out of her way or applying pressure to allow her room to respond to Mince... He's no medic. "You hit?" Furrowing his brow, his attention settles on Cate.
Tamlin continues working on the downed Sergeant. Well, the other downed Sergeant, all the while calling out instructions to Mince and occasionally to Rabbit, who's up in the cockpit. She doesn't have anywhere near the skill of Cate, but she's working to the best of her abilities.
"I'm all right," Cate assures Nathaniel. She uses a needle on Beckham's chest to help his breathing, and then waves Nathaniel over. "I need you to hold pressure here, okay?" She's indicating a pressure dressing wrapped around Beckham's chest. "Dorn - he's as stable as I can get him right now," she assures Tamlin, though her voice betrays her worry. Jayne is spared a brief glance, but Tamlin has him in hand so Cate's grabbing her rifle and heading back out to help the others.
Just as she's begun to peel away and a greater shot breaks through. Charlie happens to look back to see it. "Frak." It's said in a flat sort of tone because it wouldn't change things even if she shouted. At least Graham is still standing, right? The Corporal quickly pats her gear to make sure she's got her grenades on her and breaks into a quicker pace. Is she? Yes, she is. Heading right for the toaster gunning them each down. She's still firing at it, but it's pretty clear what she's intending.
From the corner of his eyes, Evan spots Charlie doing of all dumbassery, advancing into a fortified sniper. "Wagner!" He barks out towards the woman, starting to pace himself as well. "Gods damnit, what part of holding perimeter so we can evac..." That part he grumbles under his breath but he does advance, firing a series of shots at the Cylon fortification, this time not trying to hit but rather keep it down.
"Alright," Nate moves in over Beckham, pressing both hands down where instructed. He more or less takes Cate's word for it. "Alright," he repeats more quietly and to himself. Good thing he can't very well get any paler. "Stay with us."
With Charlie's movement on his periphery, and his face rather stunningly bleeding above and around his left eye, Graham grunts and frowns, "Frakin'... Recon, get back. We don't know it's alone." He doesn't put any real oomph into his voice, with all of his energy so far being utilised to keep himself conscious - and keeping a steady stream of five-five-six flowing towards the toaster with the very loud gun. "Any time you want us to not be here, Sarge. Kinda need the bathroom."
Why don't you take a picture, Nate, it'll last longer. Beckham just gets to bleed and live, so that's exactly what he's fighting to do at the moment.
Ad now Jayne is as stable as she can get him, Tamlin rises from her spot on the floor, pausing, only for a moment, to reach down, a hitch in her breath, fingertips touching her husband's unconscious face, "Mince, you weapons hot on this thing?" He better answer, before she goes back there to check herself. She's back towards the panel, to help the ECO.
Mince nods, still fussing with the panel. "Sure, but we're not angled right to get a shot at that damn thing." And since they can't maneuver, well...
The recon hears nothing! At all! Nope! She's quick, light on her feet, and has a grenade at hand for once she's near enough. Charlie does grunt when a bullet grazes her armor, but it just causes her to adjust the angle she runs at. Her rifle is shifted at her shoulder and she returns fire, not slowing nor stopping yet.
Cate hops down out of the Raptor, keeping low to a crouch. A quick scan takes in the state of the other marines, and she's moving over to join Graham. The bloody head is given a cursory look, but it can't be too bad or he wouldn't still be standing and shooting. She crouches down beside him and tries to see where he's shooting at.
Tamlin glances at Mince, "That frakker shot my husband." Mince can see the deckie's look, she's about a hair away from beast mode. Stay on this panel, try to reroute that power grid, I'm going to work on the couplers.
"ETA on repairs." Evan calls out over his shoulder, he continues his own advance, as Charlie moves forward he shadows as well, continuing his sequence of suppressing fire in the direction of the cylon. As the last Marine not named Evan gets hit by fire, the scowl on his face grows deeper, turning into a glare.
Nathaniel would really love to get a photo of this. He even hesitates a little, eyes settling on Beckham's face. It's like he might just stop applying pressure to reach for his camera... oh, but wait he doesn't.
Mince holds up his hands in surrender. "Hey don't blame me. What do you want me to do, get out and push the bird around?"
"They'll be done when they're done. Which will be no good if you're all dead!" Tamlin slips, nearly falls in Beckham's blood, tumbling to her knees to get to the coupler relays.
Seeing that its position is compromised and the marines are zeroing in, the Sniper decides to beat a retreat. He starts to lay down fullauto fire against the cluster of marines by the Raptor, and leaves its entrenched position to begin falling back. Charlie's closest, but it's still out of grenade-throwing range.
The thud hits, Evan doesn't even bother looking down as the sting begins to pierce through his chest and the breath that was knocked free comes rushing back into his lungs. The dust around him kicks up, funny that. The first shot was the one to connect not the rest of the auto-fire. Flexing his fingers in the trigger hand, the arm alongside where the bullet punctured, he lifts up his rifle and begins to fire again at the Cylon, trying to harry it's position and redirect it. "Metal is on the move."
Nathaniel has settled into muttering words of encouragement ...to himself. Sure, if Beckham can hear him deep down, that's great and all too. His elbows buckle somewhat but he does not let up pressure, keeping one hand firmly over the other.
"What the frak!" Not that it's retreating, no, but that it opted to aim past her and fire at the others. Charlie knows that lobbing a grenade at the Cylon would be hopeless at this point so she just continues to run and fire at it. Maybe its retreat will bring it out of cover long enough that she'll be able to get a good hit in. If nothing else, she wants to try to get a good enough look at the thing to be able to provide a description to the brass. They need to have some intel on these models to pass along...
"Over there, Corp," Graham says with a slight uptick of his head in Sniper's general direction, "The black thing surrounded by bulletholes." He narrows his gaze, his left eye now fully closed - with so much adrenaline rushing through his system he barely even seems to register the impact of the bullet into his boob, "Don't recommend letting it shoot you in the face though. Gets old." He heaves himself up from his crouching position, which apparently did nothing to prevent him being a bullet sponge, and sucks his teeth, "Scoop! How good's the zoom on that thing? Get some photos of it for the higher-ups." Of course the Lance Corporal's ideal shooting involves bullets, not cameras.
Cate sees the sniper now that it's moving, jerking away with a sharp hiss as another bullet creases her arm. "I see it. Frak, is it painted black?" She doesn't dwell, but squints and fires.
Tamlin lifts her head from her work, as she hears Graham's words to the man holding in Beckham's insides, practically, "You pick up that camera, and I will shoot you myself." Absolutely deadpan, before she gets back to work.
"I wasn't going to," Nate whines!
Evan continues to jog after Charlie, firing rounds at the Cylon that's retreating and then he drops momentarily to a knee, rifle hitting the ground with him. One hand to the ground to balance his fall and eyes fight back the surge of pain. "Frak... these ... frak." Swallowing deeply he pushes up off the ground and takes the rifle back to ready position to resume his pursuit, wishing that the swelling wet feeling on his chest is sweat; knowing it is not.
Slowly starting to come around, Beckham lets out a wheezed breath. "..legs.. can't feel them." Perhaps a temporary thing. Hopefully a temporary thing, once the bullet is tended to - and a long time in recovery. "Tamlin. She alright?" he asks next, because clearly she wouldn't do anything dangerous whule he was out, right?
"HEY! YOU FRAKKIN' COWARD!" Why yes, Charlie is trying to bait the Cylon. It might be because she, personally, feels that she failed on her recon mission the other day. She got some intel, but not within the specific parameters she'd been given. So while the cylon evades, the woman continues to run after it, firing upon the thing. If she can take this one down so that they can get some good photos or even parts, well. That'll count as a win. Redemption! Or maybe it's because it shot at a particularly attractive rifleman. Details.
"Wagner what the hell are you doing?" Cate yells after her squadmate. Wincing, she levers herself up out of the crouch and joins in the chase, limping a little as she goes. She sees other marines getting hit, but none of them have gone down or called for a medic, so she assumes they're good. Her hands are still coated in Beckham's blood as she grips the rifle and raises it to her shoulder to shoot as the runs.
"No, I'm not frakking well alright, Beckham Dorn, they feed these marines an extra pile of stupid this morning, they are all out there getting their asses shot to frak and back. Also, I love you. If you die, I'll kill you." She glances at her husband, "The only one not acting the damned fool is this new fish holding your lungs in." See? True love.
Glancing over his weapon to the woman beside him, Graham frowns, "Can't tell if the damn thing is quicker than regular models, or if I'm just a really bad shot. At long range. With a machine gun." He sighs and sniffs sharply with a noticable grimace as his attention returns to Evan, Charlie, the Sniper, and all the running, "Kids today," he mutters with a shake of his head as he adjusts his aim before calling out to the pursuers, "Try and avoid running into a bullet, Recon and Rifles."
"She's alright, uh," Nathaniel briefly hesitates, searching his mind for Beckham's callsign. None comes, "Buddy." Blink-blink! His own hands and sleeves have a healthy amount of the other man's blood on them as well. Totalllly healthy. His red eyebrows lift high up into his hair line. "Don't struggle. I don't think she's bluffing."
"She's not, she'll kick your ass by proxy if I die." Beckham manages, though his laughter is strained with a cough and more blood. Any other comment is left to the side as he closes his eyes.
"No accounting for luck," Cate offers over to Graham. "Charlie you can't --" She's about to yell out another admonishment about chasing the Cylon into the jungle when everyone's combined fire finally brings it down. "Frak." She stays ready, rifle aimed at the treeline as if worried there might be another one.
The shots rip into the Cylon and Evan's steps increase pace to catch up to where Wagner is moving forward, reaching out to grasp at her armor, to take it in his fist to turn her to face him. "The frak?!" The tone has a bite, sharp to it as he looks at the woman. "You lose your Gods damned mind?" His glance turns to look back at the ship where the carnage is most pronounced.
With the clusterfrak cacophany of fire poured out over the last few minutes or so, Graham wonders out loud, "Gee. I wonder if they know we're here." He pauses and scans the 'horizon' as best he can manage, "A'ight. Doc, head back to the Raptor an' see if they need you. I'll keep those two covered till they get back. Then, maybe, we can have a picnic without uninvited guests, eh?" He winks with his good eye... which is more like a blink when your other eye's already closed, really, "Next time, I pick the shoreleave destination. I hear the surface of a star is lovely this time of year."
"Rabbit, hit the ignition." And just like magic, belated and all, Tamlin and Mince, between the two of them, finally get the raptor back up and running, the sound of its engines lighting up breaking the dead silence in the wake of gunfire. Tamlin gets up from where she's crouching, carefully avoiding falling in blood, and heads to the back of the raptor. "All of you motherfrakkers get your motherfrakking asses back on this motherfrakking boat. We are wheels up in 60. You miss the boat you're walking!"
Another graze to the chest. Does she need to start taping herself down before putting on her armor? Geez. Charlie stalls when the cylon finally falls and it's enough time for Evan to grab her and turn her around. She drops the rifle on its sling, staring up at him with wide eyes as she catches her breath. There's no reply at first- instead, she's looking to his injuries and quickly going to apply pressure to his chest with both hands. As if it'd be of much help at this point. "Price! Can you get that guy's camera to get pictures of that thing before we go?" That was her purpose, apparently.
Cate nods somewhat numbly to Graham. "Here's hoping," she agrees, pulling herself upright. She's hurting, but still walking and there are folks much worse off to deal with. Hearing Tamlin's call, she turns around to relay it via shout to the marines further away. "Wagner!" There's a brief moment where she forgets Evan's actual name, so she calls, "Scorpia! Bird's leaving, let's go!"
Cate heads back for the Raptor, crouching down by Beckham first. "How's he doing?" she asks Nathaniel.
Evan looks steading at Charlie and moves her hands away from the holes in his armor, turning her towards the Raptor. "You heard the call, let's go." Starting to make his way back towards the Raptor, he yells back over to Cate. "Do we have contact with the ship? How long until we could get a second ride down here? Quick enough one of us can stick with the tin head for retrieval?"
"I'm doing shitty, Cate. And my wife's pissed. You at least frag the frakker?" Beckham asks feebly as he moves his hand to cover the wound himself. "I got this.." he manages to the photog.
"He was lucid a moment ago," Nathaniel offers a tinge hopefully, "I have shots of the surrounding area. I'm sure it's in some of them now that we know what we were looking for." With a grunt, he shifts his legs beneath him to get a bit more comfortable. He's not going anywhere any time soon ...and neither is his camera.
Nathaniel blinks as Beckham talks, again. Oh, good. He's alive.
"We'll mark the coordinates," Graham shouts to the slowly returning Morines, "They'll send people to pick it up later, get on the bus - unless you want to sit around and wait for its friends to show up and play pin the bullet in the person." He hasn't moved all that much, though, as he continues to ensure that neither Charlie nor Evan get shot in the butt. Or back, that's kind of Beckham's thing.
"Yeah we got him," Cate assures Beckham, the worry on her face giving way to relief just briefly when she hears his voice. She nods to Nathaniel. "Keep holding that." Jayne is spared a brief check just to make sure he hasn't died or anything, then she's returning her attention to Beckham. "Hang in there, we'll get you evac'd here soon."
Cate is a little preoccupied, so it's actually the ECO who confers briefly with the pilot before sticking his head out the hatch to shout back to Evan. "Command says if you guys are fit, you can stay to secure the village and the Cylon until relief arrives. May be half an hour or so - most of the birds are tied up on other ops right now." Which is why they were waiting for a mechanic in the first place instead of just getting a different ride. "You staying or going? 'Cause we're leaving now."
There's a bit of entanglement of Charlie's hands in Evan's. She's still sort of staring at his chest wounds. Whether gaping or not. When the ECO calls out of the bird at them, she looks up at the Scorpian, jerking her chin towards the Raptor. "I'm going to stay, keep an eye on things. Go get yourself stitched up." And then she's stepping back to reload her rifle because she'd just about run out her mag chasing that thing down.
The look is rather hard before Evan turns back and calls out towards the ECO of the Raptor, "Throw a couple of kits out and take off. We'll stay back, no point wasting this intel that we've paid heavy for." The man motions to Graham, indicating he should go and then jerks a thumb at Charlie, "We'll secure it and the area for retrieval."
Tamlin doesn't wait for the marines to decide, she simply goes back inside and finishes what repairs she still needs to do, before she'll help Cate with the wounded. "Thank you for saving his life, Cate." A glance to Nate, "And you too." She looks down at Beckham, "This boy never learned how to duck."
Beckham looks up at his wife with such love and affection. And then flips her the bird before setting his hand back on his chest. "Let's get out of here. I'm never visiting Canceron again. And demanding a refund from my travel agent."
With a tired shake of his head, Graham grins at the pair, "A'ight then. Don't go getting shot up. You already look like shit." Says he with a half-working face. The big man with the big gun carefully clambers aboard the Raptor, with about as much grace as a particularly dexterous piano falling down the stairs, and mostly just tries to keep himself out of everyone else's way. "We'll never get our deposit back," Graham grins to the downed Beckham, "This is the last time I go vacationing with you."
"I don't think I'm allowed to let go-" Nate whispers to Beckham. It would suck to live through the Cylons only to be murdered by a mechanic. The photog doesn't totally move away, despite protestations that the medic can handle it. He offers a sort of half-hearted wince-smile in response to Tamlin. The expression is more pronounced on one side of his face than the other.
Cate looks up at Tamlin. She starts to say something, stops herself from telling Tamlin to thank her when he makes it out of surgery. Instead she demurs with, "He'd have done the same. I have shitty luck with vacations," she deadpans to Beckham, glancing over when Graham comes aboard.
Mince calls back to Evan. "We'll send another ride for you." He tosses out the Raptor's emergency kit, with some first aid and basic survival supplies, and then he's closing the hatch.
When Evan calls out that he'll be staying as well, Charlie is set to protest. Unfortunately, there's not enough time to protest and ensure that he gets on board. Instead, she just gives him a look before uttering: "Stay here." She'll jog to go retrieve aforementioned kit.
Beckham settles back in, closing his eyes. Sometime, during the trip, he lapses back into unconsciousness and will remain that way until after surgery on Vanguard.
Tamlin doesn't say anything, for the duration of the trip back, or at least as long as she knows Beckham is reasonably awake and aware. Once he's fully passed out, she looks back at Cate, "He said he can't feel his legs." She says it through clenched teeth. Now that they're safely away, less of the deckie is showing, and more of the wife. She'll hold it together though. At least until she's somwwhere where no one can hear her scream.
The gunner has also been really rather quiet, probably unusual for such a large man to be so quiet, but Graham hasn't ever much cared for stereotypes or sweeping statements. He thinks all stereotypes are terrible. He is also a hypocrite. The big man does look down-range towards Tamlin and Beckham, and Cate, but anything he might say to comfort the grieving not-quite-widow-yet regarding her not-quite-late-husband-yet die in his throat as soon as he opens his mouth. Probably for the best, that.
Nathaniel isn't quite so pessimistic as to Beckham's fate but his mouth does press into a firm, grim line. He remains silent ...absorbing the tense atmosphere of the ship as they dash back to safety ...contemplating the awe-inspiring nature of life and death ...idly wondering if any of the photos are usable of Beckham and Tamlin from just before the violence broke out.