While attempting to execute a supply delivery, the Timber Wolves are ambushed.
Related Scenes: None
Plot: Operation: Cat and Mouse
Scene Number: 787
The wolves are running supplies to a forward defensive position close to the front. The rocky, uneven terrain at the defense post wasn't really conducive to landing ships (not to mention the risk of encountering Cylon anti-air), so the Raptors landed about a quarter mile back and were met with a pair of Picon soldiers with trucks. Now they're in the process of shuttling the supplies from the Raptors to the trucks. Their mission is to escort the supplies all the way to the defense post.
Lyn hops up and crouches in the back of one of the trucks, taking boxes as they're brought to her, and stacking them from the front to the tailgate in an orderly fashion. The Recon marine is all business today, speaking little, working hard. She at least looks well-rested and alert.
Grunt work -- literal hauling of heavy things -- is something Gage is well used to. He's dressed in his tactical gear, rifle slung out of the way as he helps haul the supplies from the Raptor to the truck. All that battle gear is undoubtedly hot, and though there's a slight sheen to his features, that doesn't much seem to slow the broad-shouldered marine.
Just because he has been called 'mule headed' by some people doesn't mean Evan is necessarily eager to provide brute force labor. But he does it without complaint and even with a smile on his face; even doing it with as much effort as he can muster as if moving the crates of supplies alone were the lone task that might win this war.
Tavo is very good at grunt labor, because he's a grunt. Even as he hauls a crate from one of the Raptors to one of the trucks, he chuckles, "Now this is real soldiering." His SAW hangs heavy across his back, and he clumps across the uneven terrain, setting the crate down where Lyn can get to it, "No silly flying deathtraps, just good old-fashioned trucks and the heel-and-toe express."
Abigail must have grown up on manual labour, or at least been rated for it, because she seems to be rather enjoying the hard work, Standing just at the hatch to the raptor nd helping to pass crates out. Every now and then, you can almost catch a hum of something like a jaunty tune under her breath. She's not really focused on any one thing in particular, just looking a bit of everywhere as she works, so as not to get caught unawares.
Staff Sergeant Rothschild is helping with the unload, carrying her crates between the Raptor and trucks. Her BDUs are softer in color than they were on Canceron, embracing the duller environment they are in. The Gunner has her SAW tucked up against her side where it is easy to get through, and her gaze -- shadowed beneath the fall of her cap -- continues to scan the area around them as they work. "Hopefully, in this kind of place, we'll see them glint," she says dryly as she passes Lyn up a crate.
Aldrich is a little under fighting weight this week, but that hasn't stopped him from returning to regular duty, once cleared by medical. Still, he's already looking pretty sweaty and white-lipped as he soldiers on helping transfer the supplies. Chaplain's gotta do what a chaplain's gotta do, apparently.
Cate has her SMG slung across her back, with her medic kit, helping to haul a box onto the trucks. "Thought the Scorpian Army was too good for trucks," she offers blandly to Tavo. She hasn't said much since the mission began.
For the duration of the day thus far, Charlie has been quiet. Uncharacteristically so, in fact. She's not said anything that wasn't required. Yessir, no sir. Heads up. It began as soon as they boarded the Raptor off the Vanguard and she's not snapped out of it since. She's just been focused on the work, moving the supplies, finding a spot to squish herself in on the trucks when they're moving, and so on. Seeing her home, front and center, is hitting the Picon woman hard.
Having taken the other truck opposite Lyn, Jonas is chewing on his gum, blowing a bubble lazily as he pops it, after loading supplies. He's taking the crate from Abigail to pass on to the next person in line. "Thanks for the advice on going with the lighter weight clothing." he offers to her. "It helps with the tactical gear and radio pack." His own SMG is settled across his shoulder, slung next to his radio pack.
"Al, get some water in you," Lyn advises as she takes the crate from Rothschild and moves to stack it further in. "You'll need way more than you think after you've been fasting all week." She sets it on top of the one Tavo deposited before returning to the back.
It's not actually a fact that Chance only gets brought along for missions that involve carrying things. He does just as many patrols as everyone else. It's just FEELS that way when you've hefted your umpteenth crate from a raptor to a truck. Like Tavo, his SAW is slung across his back, strap pulled tight so it doesn't dangle much. "Heel and toe express could be switched out for some sort of conveyer belt and a cold beer and I'd be pretty happy." It's every Marine's Lords given right to complain.
"For us, yeah. All boots for us, Doc." Tavo cheerfully responds to Cate, "But for supplies? Trucks are the way to go. Because otherwise the officers get ideas about turning the grunts into pack mules." Chuckling a little at Rothschild, he shrugs, "I'd be fine not seeing anything glint on the way there and back. But I wouldn't bet on it." Chance's statement causes him to laugh a little more openly, and he teases his fellow Scorpian, "Wimp."
"You're welcome. I'd also add, 'Always keep an eye on your feet,' but I don't think we need to worry about ground critters this far into the rainforest." It's temperate, but it's still rainforest. "Now you just need to keep looking up." Abigail ducks back in, looking around the raptor, before she grabs another crate, "This one's almost done."
Gage pauses, ostensibly to wipe a hand across his brow, but in reality to scan the horizon, clearly not liking leaving his attention too often away from their surroundings. "The way the Picons were talking, I was expecting some six-foot monster to come at me with teeth the size of my head or something." Maybe that's really why he's looking about.
Cate slants Aldrich a concerned glance when she hears Lyn checking up on him, but she doesn't add to the other marine's advice. She nods idly to Gustavo's response. Every so often, she glances over at Charlie, but hasn't said anything to her.
Aldrich gives a weary grin to Lyn and her instruction, along with a lazy salute. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine." So he claims, but he slips out a canteen for a drink on his way back to the Raptor, only stowing it away in time to pick up another crate.
Evan keeps up the work quietly but does find himself chuckling very softly at a bit of the banter flying around; not participating in it yet but being aware enough to overhear it. The crate he is moving slips a moment and he reshifts his grip to make sure it doesn't fall and then keeps moving.
Roths just shakes her head at Tavo and Cate's back and forth, looking amused. She pulls herself into the truck while Lyn sees to Aldrich. She casts the chaplain a worried look at the news that he's been fasting. She then starts arranging the crates as more Marines come with boxes. She looks at Gage. "Who said we'd run into six-foot monsters?" Roths smirks at that.
"Only bird I'm worried about in the sky are bright and shiny and even bug repellent can't help them." Jonas offers as he takes another box from Abigail and grins at her. Settling the box in his arms, he starts to move. "What, you don't, Staff Sergeant? For the record, Abigail didn't say women turned into six foot monsters on their homeworld." Just monsters. With teeth.
Lyn shakes her head at the Chaplain's back and chuckles. "I'm gonna kill him if he dies of heat exhaustion and I have to eat that whole cake by myself," she mutters under her breath. She arches a brow in regards to the six foot monsters. She'd be nervous if she hadn't dealt with frakking polar bears on Aquaria. Both drunken and sober ones to boot.
Gage makes a face as he turns back from his scan of their surroundings, glancing at Rothschild for a moment, taking note of the smirk. "I think it was... everything wants to eat you. Right, Walker?" Gage throws to Abigail as he walks back towards the Raptor for the next crate.
It's a rare Marine that isn't involved in banter or bitchin', which might be making Charlie stand out, but at least the sniper is moving at a steady pace. She's not slacking, she's not lazy in her movements. She stops only at infrequent intervals to take a drink of water. At least she's taking care of herself!
Abigail gives a slow, studied nod, as she looks over towards Gage as he walks towards thw raptor she's stationed at, "Well, yes, where I'm from most everything wants to eat you. And that includes most of the women." She hands Gage off a crate, before she ducks back in to push the last closer to the door, chatting with the raptor crew to make sure that they're offloading everything that's relevant to the mission.
Tavo pats the SAW on his back at Jonas' comments, "You might be packing the wrong bug repellent, Ingvar." He gets another crate to the trucks, then steps aside to take a sip of water himself. After a sip, he notes to Rothschild and Gage, holding up a hand mid-brow on himself, "What's wrong with six-foot monsters that want to eat you?"
In short order, they have the trucks loaded up. "You guys riding or walking," asks the lead Picon driver.
"Cake?" Chance perks up, glancing over at Lyn, then he shakes his head as he lifts another crate and eyes Tavo, "I think you're three crates behind, wuss. Pick up the pace!" And then they are basically done, so Chance unslings his SAW and looks to Rothschild, "Call the ball."
Aldrich hauls the crate back to the truck, and as he's handing it up to Lyn, he gives a tight, but genuinely amused smile, and says, "I'm not going to die. The gods wouldn't let me die without eating some of that cake. They aren't /that/ cruel." And then someone is announcing that it's time to go, so he wastes no time in scrambling up to find a seat on one of the crates. Apparently he's riding.
There's a low-throated chuckle from Gage as he takes the crate from Abigail and walks it to the truck. "Ouch. Don't envy you, Ingvar," Gage says, glancing towards Jonas with a flickered smile. "Must make the sex interesting though -- never know if she's gonna bite your head off at the end?" A slight shift of shoulders might be a shrug in response to Tavo. "Didn't say there was anything wrong. Just waiting for them to pop up so I can shoot them in their faces." He doesn't answer the Picon driver's question, that's up to people who outrank him. Instead, he settles into another scan of the horizon.
Rothschild casts Tavo a short look. "Are you trying to make a dirty joke, Delgado?" Then she glances over toward the Picon driver, and she drops to the ground. "We can split it if you think the terrain is slow enough to allow for walking. If we run into trouble, I want people to be able to respond faster than jumping out of a truck." She looks at Chance, and smiles that lovely smile. "You've got long enough legs to walk, don't you?"
"Cake," Lyn confirms to Chance, but doesn't elaborate. She puts the last box in place and runs straps across the front of the stacks to keep them from sliding out the back. With a hop back down to the ground, she looks to the Praetor. "Where do you want recon, ma'am?" she asks, all formal like.
Cate gives an odd look to the people bantering about monsters and swings her weapon back around to the front, quietly waiting to be told what to do.
The Picon driver nods to Rothschild. "We can drive slow enough for you to keep up," he offers, then motions to his fellow driver and they both go to climb into the drivers seats of the two vehicles.
Abigail, rather than hand off the last crate, bring it down herself, to walk it over towards the truck they've been partnered with. She hands it off, before taking a moment to inventory herself, blithely ignoring Gage. Clearly shit talking is something combat engineers do. It's all about the love. "I'm willing to walk." So she'll do that, unless directed otherwise.
There's nothing like a nice seasonal walk through Picon, at least Evan has been told this by some. With the loading done, he slings rifle over shoulder and pack to back as he preps for stroll duty. A glance of eyes around and finally he speaks up. "I dunno 'bout y'all, but walkin' in the fresh air after... ugh. Space. That's just callin' to me."
"Truck," Rothschild replies to Lyn after a heartbeat of thought. "You got more places to stabilize in case we need some long-shots. Be ready to find cover if things go sideways." Then she looks around at the others. "Alright, Kavanagh, Spectre, Ghost, Doc, and Walker in the trucks. Everyone else on foot. Recon, keep your eyes around us." She seems pretty confident in that as she unslings her SAW so it is in her hands rather than at her side.
Chance eyes Rothschild and grumbles, as he hefts his SAW up onto his shoulder to hold it more easily. "Everyone's got legs to walk, or they wouldn't be marines." he grumbles. Despite that, he doesn't actually argue. Chance will take up a position next to the truck.
Lyn nods to Rothschild and she hops back up into the truck, finding a box to sit on and works on double checking her weapons and gear with a small smile for the Chaplain. Then she rearranges some other boxes to use as a brace to level her rifle on, to be able to look out behind them through the scope.
With another shift of his shoulder, Gage swings his rifle from his back into his hands, resting at ease. Given he's not moving towards the trucks, it seems he's volunteering wordlessly for walking duty. Nothing to do with being able to keep an eye out for Picon's more notorious wildlife, nope. He gives a nod towards Rothschild at her orders, glancing briefly at Evan and grinning in agreement at his words. "I hear you," he says, as he moves to take up a position to the right side of the trucks.
"I'm not complaining." Turning on the radio pack to listen to the chatter if there is any, Jonas settles his SMG to his side and sort of gives Rothschild a look. "Uh, Sergeant, not to counteract you, but you just ordered almost all our recon into the trucks?" he asks, then shrugs. Hey, if they can watch from the trucks.
With the order given, probably a good thing, as she loaded down quite a bit with her gear and also about a foot shorter than most of the ones going on foot, Abigail hops up into the second truck, settling down, checking her rifle, as well as the sidearm she has at her hip, just in case she needs to move into a closed are where a rifle won't work.
Really, walking ahead would've suited Charlie just fine. Or behind. Off to herself, with her own thoughts, and able to just focus on her job. Recon duty and all that. Be the eyes and ears of the operation. But she's just a Corporal and she's been assigned to the trucks. So the woman climbs up into the truck she's nearest to; the second one. Her gun is setup, situated, and she braces herself against some of the crates opposite Abigail so they each get a view of the land.
Tavo tucks his canteen away, "Called pacing myself, bro," he responds to Chance, and then he nods to Rothschild, "Yes Sergeant, I was." He nods at the orders, and shifts his SAW around to grasp the pistol grip and the foregrip, moving up to the right of the first truck and nodding over to Chance in his opposing position, losing the banter and getting down to business.
"Who's Spectre?" Cate mumbles to herself as she nods to Rothschild and climbs up into the passenger seat of the second truck. She nods an idle greeting to the driver.
Lyn makes a pathway through the crates to the front area, behind the cab, and she sets herself up on top of a stack, so she can rest her rifle on the roof and keep her eyes peeled for movement.
Aldrich keeps himself out of the way as much as possible, but shifts around until he can sit comfortably and keep an eye on the surroundings. Now that his hands aren't occupied toting crates, he takes the moment's break to drink some more water.
Taking out his canteen, Jonas draws a sip from it, sticking his tongue out at Abigail playfully as he starts to walk, setting the canteen to the side of his webgear again as he continues to walk.
Evan shakes his head slowly as he goes to get a drink from his canteen, under his breath something is muttered. Could be 'Picon'. Could be 'Women'. Both are, at this point, a valid curse. With the trucks getting underway, his steps move to follow along as a stifled yawn is battled but does manage to sneak out.
Abigail, hearing Cate's muttered question, checks a thumb in Charlie's direction, "I know, sort of surprised me too." She has only ever called the woman Wagner in the field. Once she's settled, she also raises her rifle, in the ready low ready position, finding a vector Charlie isn't looking at and focusing her attention there.
Rothschild looks over to Jonas with a tilt of her head. "I'm aware." She glances around the terrain, and then back to Jonas. "The trucks provide a higher seat to scan the terrain, and saves their energy in case we need an actual recon as we go." She then ducks her head a bit as she falls into stride one of the trucks.
There's a shrug of his shoulder. "Sure thing, Sergeant." Jonas offers. It's not his play, he's on the ground, moving along. Walking's good. Even with the extra radio weight, he's used to it by now.
Once everyone gets situated, the trucks start rolling. It's only supposed to take about fifteen minutes to make it to the defense post. Although they're technically in friendly territory, there's been enough conflict in this area that everyone's on high alert. And that vigilance pays off. Charlie is the one who spots it. Up ahead - to the left up a little hill - a glint of metal distinctly out of place along the forested road.
She knows Picon. It's home. Even if it's a terribly battered and torn home. Which means that Charlie knows when something is wrong with her home. She frowns, hitting the button for their comms. "Sarge, we've got something ahead." She shifts in her position, adjusting the aim of her rifle. "Down the road... Hillside, roughly-" the coordinates are given out for the rest of the team.
At Charlie's warning, Lyn settles in to look through her rifle scope towards the coordinates Charlie dictates. Good thing the other woman saw something, because she sure as heck didn't. "Watch our rear, Al," she murmurs to the Chaplain.
Settling into an easy pace alongside the truck, it doesn't take long for Gage to fall into a pattern; check the trucks, check ahead, check to the right, check behind, repeat. It's only broken up by his occasional reach for his canteen. His head, on swivel, returns from a glance behind him just as Charlie calls out the contact. He reaches into his pocket, gets a stick of gum out, and shoves it into his mouth. "Not quite a Picon monster, but, it'll do," he mutters, as he lifts his rifle, scanning to the right and behind to see if there's any more contact.
Aldrich finishes as much water as he's going to drink, then screws the cap on and puts it away so he can double check his weapons and make sure everything is in place. Then it's just settling in and waiting. Probably praying because it's still Aldrich. When Charlie indicates something over the radio, he sits up a little straighter, frowning as he glances that direction. He glances over at Lyn's direction and gives a grim little nod, before moving around so he can more easily watch the retreating road.
Tavo walks just off the side of the road, placing his feet carefully on the packed earth and keeping his eyes roving up, down, and out, looking for mines, for ambushes, for anything up ahead. At Charlie's call, he settles down on one knee, facing outward, toward the forest on the little convoy's right. The butt of his SAW is snugged up to his shoulder, and he scans first for enemy figures on his side, and then for good spots to set up with his bipod. "Bet that monster's about a meter-nine tall. And I bet it has friends."
Chance is on the other side of the truck from Tavo, and is doing about the same thing. He's on the look out for mines, for ambushes, or other things that are out of place. When the call hits his radio, he brings his SAW up to bear, the butt of the weapon resting into his shoulder. "Do we have another pair of eyes on it yet?"
As she's actually in the truck with Charlie, Abigail can see the woman's tension out of the corner of her eye, even before she hears her in stereo, live and over the comms, and she shifts her attention to the coordinates Charlie calls out, moving to take up a position with her rifle braced on one of the crates.
"Never an easy ride." Evan grumbles to himself as he moves to the side of the road at the commentary that floods his ears from reports. Brush, trees, rocks and grasses are all good for him to crouch into but rather than letting his eyes fall where everyone else may look, he starts to scan the area immediately surrounding the convoy.
Rothschild brings up her radio as she hears Charlie's crackle come through. "And by something, do you mean something shiny, Wagner?" She turns her head to and fro a couple times before she hones in on where she thinks those coordinates are, particularly where the hillside is. She jogs ahead a bit, and knocks on the door with her fist before looking up at the driver. "Stop, but make it look like we're checking things out. If we got eyes on us, I don't want them to know we might have spotted them." She then gets back on the comms. "Alright, Wagner. Quietly get out of the truck. See if you can scout out and double-check on your sighting. And set yourself up for some potshots." She nods to Evan, as last time, he was her spotter, so she assumes she's operating under those assumptions.
The lead Picon driver pulls to a stop at Rothschild's order. And as the Colonials are beginning to move, a rocket streaks down from the hillside toward the truck.
The rocket hits the left side of the truck square on. There's a flash of an explosion, shrapnel and bits of supply crates flying everywhere.
As soon as the rocket flies, the rest of the Centurion squad shows itself on the crest of the hill.
"Copy that," Charlie responds to Rothschild. She's not quite sure where Evan even is, but she's not even aware of the Staff Sergeant's nod to him. She's just been told to scout and try to find a good spot to take some shots. The woman is already moving to try to exit the truck as it slows, moving her way towards the rear of it; furthest from the shiny she spotted ahead on the road. She may not make it far before having to help the squad, mind...
Moving into position as Rothschild calls out orders, Jonas moves into place near the edge of the road. Reaching over his shoulder, he's undoing the antenna of his backpack to extend the range before hooking up to the headset to start to bring up the frequency of the Raptors in case they need to call for medevac, which as the first truck explodes into flames from a flying rocket. Taking to cover as the shrapnel rains down, he's transmitting already, "Colonial Fox-Eight-Six, Theta-Niner-Four, taking fire at position along grid four-seven-eight, mark two-zero-oh. Possible injuries, remain on station for medevac, zone is hot, repeat, zone is hot!"
Spotter duty again? Evan's eyebrow quirks up wondering if someone had snuck into his jacket that he had x-ray vision. If only he knew someone that did... perhaps in another life. As Charlie starts to slip off he is moving to slide in pace, opening mouth to speak before the explosion of the rocket shakes him, sending him to cover in the tall grasses and glancing around for additional ambush.
Tavo staggers as the truck goes up behind him, planting his off hand to keep from sprawling out onto his face. Pieces of crate glance off his helmet and his tactical vest, but he picks himself up quickly, waving the second truck away, "Truck Two, Reverse, reverse! Get out of the fire zone!" Which means that those in the truck -- if the driver reacts quickly -- will have to leap off a moving vehicle, but it might keep the supplies intact.
FRAKFRAKFRAK! "INCOMING!" Lyn shouts as she jumps down off her perch in time to only take a few small wounds from the rocket. "Al!" She hollers, as she picks herself up, and runs to cover the Chaplain bodily, bringing him to the bed of the truck so he won't get hit again. "Talk to me Al. DOC! We need you here!"
Abigail, for her part, is still positioned on the second truck, and it gives her a sickly perfect view of the incoming rocket, but it hits with no time for her to react, beyond momentarily crouching down to avoid any shrapnel that might fly far enough to hit her. Her new mission...secure the medic so that she can get to those who need her, "We gotta go, Doc!"
Chewing furiously, Gage keeps his attention on swivel, alert for any more contact. Something catches his vision out of the corner of his eye, a second before the rocket explodes into the first truck. "FRAK! Contact, contact!" There's a split second of a pause before he dives forward towards the truck, looking to see if there's any survivors he can drag out of the truck and into cover at the side of the road. Spotting Lyn dealing with the chaplain, he takes hold of the driver, hauling him out, bodily if necessary.
Rothschild is about to turn and give her orders to the rest of the group when things go wrong. With her standing so close to the front of the truck, when the rocket comes screaming through and impacts the cab, all she can do is drop low to avoid the spray of shrapnel. She feels a well of wetness against her cheek, and reaches up to touch it, coming away with a bit of red on her finger tips. Then she shakes her head, pulling herself upright. Tavo's already on it with the drivers, so she calls behind her, "Focus on the rockets!"
Cate was peering out the front, trying to see what Charlie had seen. The explosion causes her to jolt, but she recovers quickly. "Frak." Even as the driver of the second truck is backing up to get out of the fire zone, Cate opens the door and hops out of the moving vehicle, feet pounding toward the damaged vehicle.
Abigail hops down, just as soon as she sees Cate get clear of the truck.
Cate yells to Lyn as she's running up. "Get out of the truck!" She figures it's a rocket magnet at this point.
At the incoming rocket, Chance half hurls himself to the side of the road to avoid the blast and any shrapnel. "Frak!" he growls out and steadies himself machine gun back at the ready. "Contact! Copy that, focusing on the rockets!" Chance takes up a firing position to start laying down machine gun fire.
Aldrich does not move quite as fast or intelligently as Lyn. He hears the warning and tries to duck behind a crate, but that turns out to be a bad move as the crate, along with probably a lot of the rest of the truck, goes kablooey. He's barely conscious by the time Lyn is covering him, but he tries to push her off for some reason. Clearly, he got enough of a bump on the head to be irrational. Or maybe he heard Cate's order. Who knows!
Lyn shuffles Aldrich towards the back exit of the truck so Cate can grab him and haul him the rest of the way, then help to carry the injured Chaplain to cover where the medic can work safely.
Abigail isn't going to go far from Cate, but she will try to find whatever scrap of cover she can, trying to aim at the closest rocket carrying centurian she can see.
For the moment, Charlie is still focused on getting to some sort of high ground. A point to be able to settle in and provide overwatch from. Or at least isolate which centurions have those rockets and take them out. She's keeping low as she runs, trying to get parts attached to her rifle as she goes. If she's aware of Evan following her, she hasn't shown it yet... but probably better just to keep from being a target and head for a good bit of cover than to stop and look back anyway.
The first truck is struck again. The driver slumps over, shredded and unconscious, and the vehicle looks pretty well disabled. And on fire.
Cate stumbles at the second explosion, a shard leaving a shallow groove across her lower jaw. She helps Lyn manhandle Aldrich down out of the truck and off to the side of the road into cover. "Shit," she mumbles breathlessly.
"Get clear of that truck before it blows!" Jonas calls out, firing at the second rocket carrying Centurion, "Frakking gas tanks on that thing can go up any minute.." he mutters as he continues to try to keep fire on the canners to buy Cate and the others time to get clear.
Lyn hears the scream of another rocket coming in, and she body blocks Aldrich so nothing more can hit him. Her back is shredded by the explosive and the ensuing schrapnel, but she rises and turns to fire towards the enemy, covering Cate so she can work.
Rothschild focuses her fire on the one rocket-wielding Cylon she sees in her first glance. Bark and tree branches go flying, but there's no sound of actual impact. This does not bode well for her in the long run, as shots come from a different Centurion that cut straight across her scalp and shoulder in two shots that send her backward a step. Head wounds are always terribly bloody even if they are shallow, and a wash of red covers the left side of her head. She turns just in time to see the truck get hit by another rocket, and she's immediately on the move. The weapon is dropped onto its sling, and she is moving to get the unconscious driver, ducking around the truck for cover so she can pop the door.
Tavo comes around the back of the first truck, now burning merrily, moving quickly but not sprinting. He keeps his steps under control because he is also spraying out a fan of fire at the Cylons visible now that they've sprung their ambush, looking to force their heads down. Another rocket comes in, and he starts to twist away, staggering with the nearby concussion but keeping his feet. A round comes zipping past, and before Tavo can discern the distinctly different sound of an on-target round, he grunts with the impact of a bullet that slips between the plates of his vest and runs a furrow under his left arm. The next two rounds make the distinctive whips of near misses, and he's moving forward again.
Staff Sergeant Chance unloads on the rocket shooting Cylons, and one with a mounted machine gun. Bullets fly loots with a resounding BAMBAMBAM. Most of the shots are blocked by the cover taken by the Cylons. One takes a round to the chest. For his own part, Chance avoids all but a single round that slams into his arm. He staggers back a step, but keeps up his tance. Need to buy time afterall. Still, he focuses now only on the rocket shooting Cylons.
"Al, can you hear me?" Cate's voice is loud since her ears are ringing.
Just as Gage is hauling the driver to cover, another rocket comes screaming down onto them. Training means that the marine habitually dives, a tactic that allows him to avoid both shrapnel from the rocket as well as incoming fire from one of the toasters. By the time the broad-shouldered marine is back on his feet -- albeit in a low crouch -- he sees the remains of the driver with a low-throated growl, chewing furiously on his gum. "Frak it," he mutters, moving further away from the trucks -- they seem to be a target -- throwing his shoulder into a tree to both brace him and provide cover, before he sights on one of the centurions with the rocket.
The bullets splash into the ground behind Evan's feet as he runs, tossing himself at last by a tree and springing back up. Rifle tracks the underbrush and he pushes the imagery last caught by his eyes out of the way. "Cover." He calls out towards his spotee before his rifle snatches up and he begins to return fire towards the centurion last responsible for what crossed his path.
No. No, fire is bad, and so are exploding trucks. And you know, the whole salvage and rescue thing is sort of her jam, so as soon as the second rocket hits, and the truck catches flame, Abigail dashes to grab for one of the extinguishes, rushing into the fray, trying to suppress the fire and salvage the truck, it's supplies and the marines still using it as cover.
Aldrich looks pretty glassy-eyed, and blood is leaking from under his helmet. Not to mention his shirt. And leg. Basically he's a mess. "Cate?" He blinks at her slowly, and then he tries to get up, with a grimace. Not that it's a terribly good idea. "Where's Lyn?"
Apparently duck and run wasn't good enough because Charlie doesn't just get hit... she gets hit in the leg. The woman stumbles and lands pretty hard. Enough that Evan's warning comes around the same time she's moving towards some cover to assess the damage... to her rifle. She looks, wide-eyed, towards the man. Clearly not having expected him to be the one behind her. She shakes her had quickly to clear it, posting her gun up on the quickly chosen spot -- not nearly as far from the rest of the group as she'd have liked -- as she works on lining up a shot on the Centurion with the rockets.
"Next time, have someone pack the grenade launcher." Jonas rumbles under his breath as he unhooks one of his grenades. "Grenade out!" he calls to the group as he chucks the grenade towards the Centurions.
Just as Rothschild ducks around the truck, her leg takes a sharp graze across the calf, and it temporarily stumbles her. She grabs hard onto the handle of the truck, yanking it open so she can climb up to grab the driver. She wrestles free his belt, and then begins to pull him. She tries to be careful, but there is so much blood, she's not sure if he's even really alive at this point. She gets him down to the ground, and then pulls him somewhere with cover.
The second truck tries to peel away, weaving a little, but twin rockets light it up and it explodes in a shower of sparks.
The Rocket launching cylon danced away from Lyn's burst of fire, and with a growled, "I'm here Al. Let Cate work on you," she narrows her focus and levels the rifle to try and get the Cylon's head in her sights.
Abigail seems to be working with a certain sort of manic determination. The sort that ignores the fact that there's a firefight going on around her, as she works to put down the fire. Not that this will help at all, likely, as they've lost most of the supplies and now the second rocket.
As the second truck gets wrecked, the Cylons begin to pull back, down over the opposite side of the rise.
Most of Gage's bullets hit the cover the toaster is hiding behind, only one sliding past. A second later, bullets slam into the tree he's behind, one grazing past his chest before he pulls back behind the tree. As another pair of rockets goes streaking towards the second truck, the broad-shouldered marine is cursing under his breath. "Frak this!" he scowls, as he reaches for one of the frag grenades, tosses the pin, and throws it towards the toasters. "Frag out!" he calls.
Two out of three ain't bad. Or so Evan's heard via song before. The bullets strike the Cylon but he knows full well that it's not the sort of shot that's going to put it down. "You got line?" He asks over his shoulder towards the Sniper, checking to make sure she can get off her shot before he let's loose another burst towards the machines.
Cate doesn't answer Al's question about Lyn since Lyn beats her to it. "Hang tight, Al, you're gonna be fine." She works quickly, getting the worst wounds bandaged. "You all right?" she asks Lyn.
Half of Tavo's shots go high this time, and most of the rest go slamming into tree trunks and ferns, although one of his rounds sends up a spark as it hits metal. The Centurions fire much more accurately than he does, which is understandable since they're braced and he's advancing in the open. A bullet sears a line of fire at the back of his right thigh, but that doesn't hurt nearly as much as the one that punches into his ribs, sending him staggering back and clutching his side for a moment. "Frak. Frak." And then he forces his left hand back to the bipod of his SAW, back on target. He's not moving as quickly now, though.
The damage done to the second truck takes out the driver and Chance growls out, turning to come up near some cover. He doesn't get behind the cover, but does get near it, crouching to present less of a target. He focuses now just on the Cylon who has turned his sights on him and some others, "Die already, you rusty bucket of bolts!"
"Just a few scratches, Doc. Nothing bandaids can't handle later," Lyn replies to Cate.
"Yes," Charlie answers through her teeth. Through the pain in her arm and leg. "But it's not clear." She hit cover. Line of sight, but the damn tin can is protected. And then they begin retreating? What the frak?! "I don't like this," she mutters to Evan, but continues tracking the Cylon to try to get another shot off.
Aldrich puts his head back down on the ground once Lyn confirms that she's okay, closing his eyes while Cate does her thing. He might seem unconscious, except his lips are moving silently.
The Cylon who had fired at the trucks let one more rocket loose their way, hitting between the marines and spraying dirt everywhere. And then they're moving off, down over the hill where the colonials can't see.
Lyn curses crudely enough to make a sailor blush as her shot just misses the Cylon she was aiming at. She doesn't advance though, waiting for orders as she continues to cover Cate and Aldrich.
"One Rocketcan down!" Jonas starts to call out as the grenade goes out, but as the rocket hits the ground, the radio man feels a kick that knocks all the wind out of his chest as he's thrown into the ditch along the side of the road, rolling side over side until coming to rest on his stomach. He'll be a few moments.
Rothschild notes the retreating chrome, and her eyes narrow. She pulls herself to the hood of the truck, near the bumper. She lines up her shot, and starts to lay down fire on the retreating toasters. Her brain is working overtime, trying to piece together why they would fall back. Perhaps they completed their mission... but why leave the rest of them alive? She is starting to move out from behind the truck, and is met with more shots from the retreating Centurions, all centered on her torso. She drops behind the truck, grimacing as she hears Jonas's call. "Understood," she says tightly through the radio, and then she is hauling herself up so she can check on the driver.
Evan's shot pops another Cylon, this time in the chrome dome. Looking at them retreating backwards, his brow furrows and he glances back at where Charlie had taken her position. "Full retreat. They got what they were after it would seem." The rifle is held up, at the ready as he begins to make his way to Charlie.
Though it might do little good, the fire is now out, and the centurians are moving to retreat, and Abigail moves with them, keeping down and crouching low. She's no recon marine, but she's small and squirrely. She also doesn't have anyone that needs looking over, so that helps.
To make the throw count, Gage steps out into the open. This has good and bad implications: His aim is true, hitting two of the centurions with shrapnel. Of course, it also leaves him open to a counterattack, with one of the rockets screaming past him to strike the tree he was until recently behind, spraying his left arm and abdomen with shrapnel. His arm's bleeding quite noticeably, his abdomen less so underneath his tactical gear. He takes a few moments to breathe, check his wounds aren't too bad, before he reaches for his rifle and goes onto watch as the centurions retreat. "Staying put or pulling back?" he throws over his shoulder.
Hit again, but it's barely more than a graze. At least Charlie hits her own target... but so do enough of the others that, well, he doesn't get to retreat with the rest. The woman shifts upright, leaning against the log she'd used both as cover and as a rest for her rifle. She's breathing heavily, but then she's also breathing pretty profusely. An eye is kept towards the rise that the Centurions are retreating over. In case it's just a ruse. "Unless something else is coming," she offers towards Evan. "You hit?"
When the toasters are out of sight, Lyn sets a hand on Cate's shoulder. "Patch him up, I'll cover the opposite side Charlie is on to make sure they don't come back." She looks to Rothschild. "Ptaety, can we get an evac truck or something driven in, or are we going to need to carry some wounded back on foot?" she asks.
Once he remembers to check himself for wounds, Jonas starts to rise to his feet slowly after rolling over much like an awkward turtle and is on the horn. "Colonial Raptor Echo Eight-Six, Theta-Niner-Four, requesting immediate evac of wounded, at green smoke. Repeat, green smoke." he speaks into the radio, taking out one of his smoke grenades to set near the trucks to signal for pickup. That's why he held up the Raptors.
Another rocket, but this time it isn't aimed for the trucks, but for for the Marines. Tavo ducks his head as dirt patters around him. He puts another long burst up into the woods, sparking off armor a time or two and shaking his head. The grenades going uphill cause him to nod in approval, and then he's hissing as he gets another hole punched in him, a glancing blow across the back of his left shoulder. He stays on his feet this time, "It's over, Sergeant. They're retreating into the woods." He grounds a knee again, breathing out a breath and shaking his head, "Casualties?"
"I've got one of the driver's over here," Rothschild calls from behind the first truck. She checks the Picon over. "Unconscious, but alive... but torn to all Hades." Then she looks over the truck. When the Praetorian pulls herself up to her feet, she looks a lot worse than she actually is, the entire left side of face covered in blood. She starts to step out from around the truck, checking the supplies in the back. "Ingvar, get the call in. We need immediate assistance and an evac out." She nods to Lyn slightly. "See if there's anything to salvage on the second truck, and let's get seriously wounded behind cover."
Jonas gives Rothschild a thumbs up, as he sets off the grenade, leaving it standing so that the green smoke can billow upwards.
Abigail continues along the same vein, hearing the radio traffic in her comms, but knowing that they need to ensure that none of the raiders are actually setting up to wait for the incoming evac raptor before they can really declare the area safe enough for pickup. She'll be a while, getting to the top of the ridge and then far enough down on the other side to ensure that there's no second cylon emplacement, before she'll begin to make her way back.
The last rocket to hit causes several shallow cuts on Chance's chest from the shrapnel. Still, his right arm, which he stops using entirely after the Cylon's have gone, is the only real injury he took. Blood drips down from his fingers as his arm hangs limply at his side. He grunts as he moves the sling to his other shoulder to at least let him somewhat awkwardly hold the machine gun with his left hand instead. "Sound off if you're injured..."
Lyn sets up on high ground to keep watch and wait for the evac raptors to get there and get loaded.
When the call goes out for evac, Gage makes his way further out, settling in behind a tree. He keeps his gaze on their surroundings. Luckily for him, his injury is to his left, non-dominant arm. "Nothing that can't wait until we're back on the tin can," is his response. He's already seen how bad the chaplain is.
"No. Not hit." Evan says towards Charlie as he moves to help her some with the non-rifle arm. "You took what, two? Three?" There's a slight tsk to his tone and a shake of his head.
"Four," Charlie admits, shifting slightly to show her left leg. There's a second, there, but one much less vital than that first. Once her gun is broken down, she'll dig in her own kit to start bandaging said leg... albeit somewhat roughly. She's no field medic, that's for sure. But it'll at least staunch the bleeding and keep it from getting any worse before they get to the evac. "Guess I'm too pretty." She's trying to banter, but it's coming out a bit strained. Might be the pain.
"I'm hit, but still combat effective." Tavo lowers his SAW so that he can check his side, grimacing again. Mostly combat effective. He probes the wound, wincing and grunting in pain as he does. "Keep going after the medevac, Sergeant, or pull back?"
Abigail, being one of only marines who didn't take a hit, makes it back in good time, and seeing Cate already busy with the chaplain, moves to assist in stabilizing the other more severely injured, of which the drivers seem to be the worst, and then, as needed, the rest of the Marines. "Sergeant, we still need to deliver these supplies to the rendevous point."
After several moments, the Raptor that brought the supplies in is starting to hover down to make a pickup of the group. The large craft settles down in a clearing near the road to wait for the wounded to be put on board.
Rothschild may be injured, but she's not sounding off. Maybe she thinks she's operating like she always has been. She does start to help stabilize the drivers, putting some of her rusty medical training to work. She glances over her shoulder toward the others. When she spots Lyn, she gives Ghost a passing nod. The words from Abigail draw another nod from her. "Already thinking that one through, Walker." She looks up as the Raptor comes overhead. "Wounded first. If we get any salvagable supplies on the first truck, we can get it delivered." She feels a small smile quirk at her lips. "Sounds like you're volunteering to drive, Walker." Then she pulls herself upright again.
"Always up for a drive, Sergeant." Abigail takes her time, setting her equipment to rights, wiping her hands off, good thing she always wears blacks, less blood staining that way, and heads to check out the truck she manages to not let explode, pulling the door open, and hopping up to check that it's still in decent enough working order. "Ready on your orders."
"Shotgun." Jonas says casually as he moves to head towards the truck as well now that the Raptor's arrived. "Only got my bell rung."
Lyn nods to Rothschild in return. "I'm healthy enough to escort Walker and Ingvar once the wounded are evacced."
"Wounded to the Raptor, everyone else, grab what you can out of the second truck and then get to the first. We're not lingering here." The Leonese grabs a bit of cloth from her pocket -- a handkerchief -- and starts to clear her blood from her face. She then helps get the drivers to the Raptor.
Tavo nods at Rothschild's orders, grunting his way back to his feet and limping forward to take up a position on the right corner of the remaining truck, "Strap me up and I'm good to go." As he crosses the area, he stops in front of Rothschild as she wipes up, his brows lifting in silent question.
There's something like momentary rebellion in Gage's expression. Of course he doesn't think he's wounded that badly, but when the Raptor lands, he's up into the belly, still holding tight to his rifle.
Lyn helps Cate get Aldrich into the Raptor before she moves to cover the salvage by sitting on the roof of the remaining truck and scanning everything through her rifle scope. Her back took almost all the damage when she was covering Cate and the Chaplain, blood leaking idly through armor holes on both upper and lower back and both arms. It doesn't seem to be bothering her though. She's gone into Icy mode, fully focused.
Until she's on her feet, Charlie thinks of protesting that she is totally capable of continuing with the mission. And then she's trying to walk on that leg. There's no way it's happening. The woman has to be helped onto the Raptor and to the waiting medical team for proper treatment. She's not lifting anymore crates today, let alone hiking alongside a truck.
Aldrich gets loaded up into the Raptor, without complaint. Much as he'd probably like to have his Black Knight moment, it's hard to insist you're fine through a concussion. So he goes (mostly) quietly.
While Chance can't do much to help carry, he moves over to the truck, taking up a seat, still managing his machine gun in his off hand. He grunts as he gets his right arm under the barrel for support. "Good to go."
Abigail, seeing that most of the crew is ending up in the raptor, hops back down and gets with the loading of as much of the remaining supplies from the second truck as they can fit into the first truck as possible. "Might need to come back for this." Soon enough, "We're ready to ship out." That said, she heads back to the driver's seat, waiting for the go from Rothschild before they take off to complete their aborted delivery run.
"Mmhmm." Rothschild responds wordlessly to the question. She offers the big Scorpian a squeeze at his forearm, and then nods him along. She steps up to the first truck, nodding to Jonas and Abigail. "Anything goes south, you hit the gas and get the truck as close as you can. We will try to suppress." She then bangs her hand twice against the passenger door, nodding to Jonas before she walks -- a bit gingerly -- to the Raptor. She gives everyone inside a small nod. "We'll see you all back at home." She looks to Charlie. "Good eye." Because she assumes that spotting that glint saved them something in the long run. Then she goes to rejoin the group meaning to get the supplies to their drop point. She makes a gesture, letting everyone know it's time to head out.