Cal was having a rough day. As rough a day you can have in a BGO without getting shot, at any rate. First, he woke up late. He doubted anyone could stand him, just due to sheer incompetence. He didn’t even want to be a soldier. Soldiers killed, soldiers died. Neither were things he wanted to do.

Come to think of it, he thought freezing my ass off while keeping watch in the most desolate place in all of Interum isn’t high on my list either.

He sat on top of NO-36, a squat, concrete structure. The building was shaped like a big plus sign, and dug into the ground a few feet. Even though he was on the roof of the structure, he was only a few feet off of the ground. Snow fell around him as he wished that he had taken the time to don his EHCS. The uniform he was wearing was warm, but not quite warm enough for the temperature. Before his regret could take him very far his watched beeped, signifying the end of his shift. He carefully jumped off the edge of the roof and sank into the snow on the ground as he landed. He walked the short distance to the door and wrenched it open, thanking his squad for not locking it. He descended the stairs and walked into the low bunker, amusing himself with the fact that he was now half underground. As he took off his coat and hung it up on a hook near the door, bumping into one of the outward facing mounted machine guns as he did, he looked around for Rose. It was her shift, and his duty to tell her to report for it. He found her not far away.

”Hey, uh, Esther.” He shifted his footing, he had never been graceful in social situations. ”It’s, uh, your shift. S-stay warm.” He smiled sheepishly and walked off to go play pool in the commons, hoping someone would join him.
@Briza

"Hey, uh, Esther"

Esther slowly turned her attention after hearing her name spoken. She was sitting silently on a chair counting thoughts in her head to some monotonous rhythm pumping through her veins. Her thumb twitched a bit as her eyes shifted towards the speaker. It was Private Webley. Her shoulders lowered, relaxingly as he continued to speak, turning one ear upwards towards him.

"It's, uh, your shift. S-stay warm."

She watched his mouth smile before he walked away. A little perplexed by his end note, Esther raised her left eyebrow slightly, continuing to study him as he made his way towards the common area. After losing a lackluster interest with him, she let her face relax before uncrossing her legs and quickly planting both her boots flat onto the floor to allow herself the opportunity to stand up with ease. As her wiry body stood up, a long shadow was cast on the chair she had just occupied. Her eyes stared deeply into the shadow for only a brief moment before twisting her entertainment towards her assignment. A subtle smile carefully drew itself on her pale, pink lips. Esther enjoyed her watch shift; it allowed her time and space to think without feeling the pressure to socialize.

Her EHCS, of course, was located in her sleeping space. She did not have much time to put on the suit, and currently, the post was unguarded from the outside, which was a major threat to their defense. Private Webley had not worn his EHCS. However, Esther was not about to follow in his footsteps. Her thin body would not stand a chance against the wind outside, and frankly, Esther was quite proud of her EHCS, despite it being the standard issue. No one could tell if she was a man or a woman when she wore it. It made her feel normal--a term she was still trying to define. Perhaps, this shift she would finally understand the meaning.

The living quarters were not far from the common area. Esther quickened her pace regardless of how small the underground base was. She pushed the door open and walked towards her EHCS. Alright, big guy, she spoke to it silently, placing her hand on the big hulk of a suit. Her smile was still perched on her clenched lips. She pulled the suit open and gracefully placed herself inside of it. Her heart fluttered as the suit closed on her, feeling the fluid sensation of power and protection hold onto her flesh. Before leaving the space, she grabbed her weaponry.

Her body turned towards the door and made its way to the outside. The heavy suit moved easily with her thin frame as she walked swiftly. It didn't take long for her to get to the outside of the post. As she shoved the outside door open, Esther turned to look at the inside of the post once, letting her eyes see the light of the building before relinquishing herself to the darkness that would be coming during her shift. The door shut itself as she let go of it. The roar of the outside became more noticeable. Her face turned to look at the desolate surroundings. She quietly eased her body and sat down, feeling the wind and snow hit her suit relentlessly. It was a mess outside, and she could not quite spot her shadow in all the weather.

She untucked her Vulcan War Hammer S2 and laid it down next to her. Her fingers caressed the design of the model. Even if she could not feel the design through the EHCS, she still liked touching it. Do normal people like touching their weapons? Cocking her head to the side, her hand rested on the hammer, glowing in the snow. Her mind quickly directed itself to The Confessions of Saint Augustine and his scepter of passion. Her mother and father taught her not to think like that, but after a year in the wild, she was beginning to make stupid jokes like that to herself. Perhaps, that is what normal people did, who were not in the military, who didn't have weapons... they played with their body parts. In whatever case, Esther was beginning to believe being normal was not ever going to be for her, and she wasn't so sure it was something to occupy her mind any further.

"Quiet down, boys, I have a fair bit to cover before taskforce head Lieutenant Fucker, sorry, Pucker joins us." That got some amused chuckles out of the other assembled members of the taskforce as they all quieted down in the hanger the impromptu brief was being held in. Word hadn't arrived long ago they were being retasked with reinforcing some backwater hellhole of a posting, so they didn't have time to assemble in some nice office or formal conference hall to hold the brief, so the classic method of the hanger was chosen. Once the assembled taskforce was quiet, he began speaking calmly as satellite imaging of NO-36 was brought up. The rather distressingly small BGO was looking rather plain, at best, and he seriously doubted that the place had any real chance on its own of holding up against the Tellosian assault that was on its way. Hence, why he and his boys were heading in. "Right, this is one of the numerous Border Guard Outposts between Interum and Tellosia. Designated NO-36, the place is a dead end outpost rookies with nowhere else to go, veterans that screwed the wrong person over, and even those convicted in courts martial have been noted in their past personnel rosters. At best, its a bunch of rookies shivering their collective asses off in the cold. Sounds like a wonderful place to visit on vacation, eh guys?"

The complete and utter disdain Jacobson had for this place was plain, as it pretty much was populated by everyone he couldn't stand in the military. But the place needed help, and who better than the emergency Taskforce he was the senior NCO of? Their entire purpose was to drop into unprepared shit shows like this NO-36, bring the defenses, both passive and active, up to par and hold the fort down until conventional reliefs could show up. The most common joke was that they would go and do the real fighting, and leave the easy part for the slow, lazy guys trying to keep up. If you considered facts jokes, that was, but after the joking and such fell down to an acceptable level, Jacobson refocused and continued the brief. "Right, other than freezing your asses off, this shouldn't be too much different than normal. The pass favors us defensively, and the mountain terrain also makes vehicular assaults difficult. For all parties involved. So, rather than our preferred method of by land, we're going in by air. Specifically, we'll make our way their via dropship and drop in with all the supplies we can stuff in with us. That includes landmines, perimeter sensors, specialist weapons, you think we need it, it'll be in there. Which means humping the crap to the outpost is going to suck. But, as the other engineers already know, that's our job. Drag a bunch of heavy crap into position and make the place the best damn fort on the front. Then we hold the place against anything the enemy of the day has for us and then we move on after reliefs arrive."

"Are you done, Staff Sergeant?" Jacobson nodded as the LT walked in, arms linked behind his back. The taskforce never operated much on formality, not as much as most line units would. "Just wrapping up Sir, the floor's yours." Stepping back, the LT calmly walked over to the podium, acting all proper. The lad was not used to the way this group operated, and had never even commanded a frontline combat group before. So needless to say the boy was nervous, and Jacobson crossed his arms while standing behind the boy while he cleared his throat and addressed the men. What he was saying was irrelevant, the Staff Sergeant noted, not wasting time really listening to what he was saying. It was some motivational speech of some sort or another, the kind of crap they fed rookies fresh out of training before throwing them into a meatgrinder against the Isari Commandos, where they were woefully under prepared for the guerrilla tactics used. Or against the legions of armored warmachines the Commonwealth would throw against them during skirmishes, where normal anti armor tactics would fall short. No, this kind of pep talk was good for rookies and grunts, nothing more. "...and thank you for your efforts, both now and when we arrive out at NO-36. Staff Sergeant, I have to finish some preparations, if you would?"

"I'll have everything sorted out and on the dropship before you're back, Sir" The boy nodded and walked out, and Jacobson sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before hopping down from the back of the stage the boy had insisted on setting up beforehand. "Right, he's done yapping, so no more sitting around! McGee, take your boys and reverify the ordinance before loading it up. Jackson, grab the rifle thumpers and start moving cargo and load up last. You boys are first out, like always. Scott, with me. All Combat Engineering Personnel muster at the dropship. While it is a several hour flight out there, we need to brief the construction and defensive screen plans for when we go boots on the ground. Not like we are going to have a lot of time to chat when we get there." The taskforce scattered and went about their tasking, and within an hour they were ready to take off. When word came down from Command, the taskforce would lift off and be on their way to NO-36. Jacobson was not looking forward to it, but when did any soldier look forward to flying right into a soon to be warzone? Maybe slightly better than an active warzone, but it was a moot point. But when the time came, they would be off to meet their next enemy, the Tellosians this time.

Lieutenant Mika Delouse was alone in the storage room, nervously tapping his foot and pacing around the room, quietly mumbling to himself, "I-i-insub-b-bordiante li-little shit... I shou-shou-shhhh-shssh-... gotta court marshal him... y-yea tha-tha-thats what I wa-wa-wa-need to do...", Delouse was quietly ranting to himself about the most recent addition to his men, Privat First class O'Connor. He had been sent to the outpost not to long ago and was causing his CO and undue amount of stress and anxiety. He was an insubordinate deserter and it showed. He and Delouse had clashed several times now over seemingly petty issues, turning into shouting matches. While the Private could handle these no problem, his CO had a condition that meant these 'fights' were causing him to... essentially relapse slightly. More than once he had had to catch himself about to start stuttering or even more serious changes in his speech... it was a big change and wasn't treating the CO very well.

He would need a little extra help, at least for awhile until he adjusted to the new private. To that end he had asked Corporal Craster, the teams medic, to meet him here just after Private Webley's watch had ended. He needed her to analyze him, and decide what else he needed be it medication, distraction, councelling or some other thing... he needed to do something though. Keeping his condition a secret was hard enough without O'Connor excaserbating the issue with his antagonistic attitude towards his superiors. Hopefully the medic could help Delouse... she had proved more than friendly so far, but this was the first time his condition actually showed any signs of beating his medication even slightly.

"Fu-fu-ffff-ff-ffuck-fucking O-o--O'Connor... I-I-I c-c-ccccccan't get rid of the b-b-bas-bastard... g-g-go-go-gonna... f-fuck m-m-m-me. Whe-whe-where is -c-c-c-c-corporal C-c-c-cc-cra-craster.", she had yet to arrive and he had no idea why... was she sleeping? He needed her now... befoore someone else could walk in... he hoped.

@Pirouette or anyone

The Long Watch

---

NO-36 was about the most boring spot you could ever find on this planet. There was nothing within a fifty mile radius of this tiny little bunker and everything was grey. The bunker, the mountains, and even the snow, while usually pretty elsewhere, seemed to be dragged down by the saturation of grey here to look dull. Overall this place wasn't the greatest for the romantic at heart, might even border the absolute last place someone like that would want to be. There wasn't anything attractive or redeeming here... but the people here came close, at least that's how Columbine looked at it.

Everyone station here were so vastly different, yet they could all bond over a strange underlying truth. They were all outcasts in one way or another. Sure, some might deny it but Collie always believed that they were just putting on mask. Just like her in a way. This bonding could just be the natural squad camaraderie that a person would feel, but these people seemed oddly more real than that. Best example was the changing of the guard between PVT. Webley, Cal as he preferred to go by, and PFC. Rose.

Collie had been lost in her book, letting herself get whisked away in the romantic western of the Mysterious Rider, before the chilly voice of Cal interrupted the earlier quaint silence of the bunker. Collie peeled her eyes from her book and watched in covert as she saw the exchange happen. For a man who had just spent hours outside in the cold, he certainly found that smile easy... Collie smirked as she watched Cal step away from Esther. Her peaking gaze adjusted and settled over to the seemingly perplexed Esther as that woman watched the man wander off before she too did the same. Perhaps it was the book or maybe she wanted to get a rise out of the poor PVT, but Collie couldn't let that go.

Collie leaned slightly in her chair and listened carefully to make sure Esther was out of her shot before turned back to the PVT. and announced her prognosis. "Awww... Cal, I didn't know you fancied Esther like that." Collie leaned back and stared dreamily up at the ceiling for a second before turning back the the PVT. "You should take a chance on her. I'll even let you two wander off for a little R&R. Doctor's orders." Collie said with a wink before she got up and left before the man had time to protest. Besides, she had other, more important, things to do than pander bunker romance, but she'll make a note of that for later.

--

Lieutenant Mika Delouse was the best living example of a caricature that Collie had ever known, a CO with the nerves of a fresh-faced greenhorn. That was probably his reason for being ousted from everywhere else, but that was probably for the best. Collie had seen combat and while she experienced a different kind of stress than her COs, she knew they bore a heavy weight. LT. Delouse is probably the worst person for that kind of responsibility. Not to bag on the man or anything as Mika is a sweetheart once you get to know him, but the military was one of the worst places for people like that. They get chewed up and spat out by friend or foe, so you either have to tough up or get ran over. Collie was a sweetheart, at least she believed she was, before she got trampled by the horrors of war. Thankfully, she managed to find her father's strength, but at the cost of her innocence. Maybe that's why she saw to Mika's care as she believed she could preserve the man's innocence, or maybe she was just trying to make sure she could survive till the end of her draft requirement. It was complicated.

Collie headed straight to the storage room as that was probably the most isolated you could get in this bunker. She had only just entered the center atrium of the bunker before she could hear the hushed stutterings of a mad man. Collie hastened her pace and slipped into the storage room to counsel the stammering CO before anyone could hear him. "Hey, hey! Shh-shh-shh!" Collie said under her breath as she approached the LT and placed her hands on the man's arms, gently running her hands up and down the man's upper arms as she guided him to sit down on a stack of wooden crates. "I'm here. I'm here. Deep breaths." Collie instructed as she stepped away and pulled a half filled water barrel closer to the LT before taking a sit on it.

In all honesty, Collie wasn't sure how to handle the man's situation as she watched the man. Medication helped but there was no way he'd ever be ready for a live combat scenario especially considering the reality where one of his rebellious subordinates can give him enough trouble to stammer like that. "Relax. Focus on my voice. Let yourself be carried away from whatever is you were thinking." Collie spoke softly trying to reenact something her mother did for her when she was just a kid. It always helped her when she was angry or sad so why not use it here. "Remember deep breaths. In and out. In and out." Collie began taking noisy deep breaths too trying to set a rhythm for the man to follow. After a few cycles she stopped and delicately asked, "Alright. Stay relaxed, deep breaths if you have to, but tell me what's wrong?"

Mika was about to try and go find the medic himself when his angel of a savior arrived. She shushed him first, apparently in all his mumbling he'd been louder than he thought. He wanted to respond then, tell her he was sorry for being to loud and acting like a child and he needs to learn to shut the hell up. That he was the worst excuse of a CO she had probably ever had and that he didn't deserve to command mice, let alone men or her... that she desereved someone competent. Instead all he managed tto stammer out was, "Righ-rrrr-rr-rr-right, s-ss-ssssssorry.", before she began to rub his arms and guide him to sitting on a crate he had pulled over earlier only to abandon it in order to pace anxiously. She sat him down and pulled up her own 'chair' barrel before looking at him with... a look of worry on her face.

She spoke softly too him, "Focus on my voice. Let yourself be carried away from whatever it is to were thinking"' it would have been hard for him to focus on much else, no one else could talk to him like that... and christ did he need it. Sure the words were what you would tell an unruly child throwing a fit, but he ignored the words and focused on the soft, kind tone in her voice. He stopped rapidly breathing, slowing it down as he started to take deep breaths as was suggested, she calmed him down quickly enough, "tell me what's wrong", he exhaled slowly before answering, swearing to keep his cool, "I-its ffffucking O'C-c-c-cccconnor... h-h-he has no re-re-r-respect for authori-thority. He won't stop f-fucking antagonizing me... i-i-it-its ssss-ss-s-setting me on edge, getting me anxious a-and panicky like...", he shook his hands as if to illustrate his current condition, ""th-this! Y-y-you g-g-go-gotta help me Collie you g-g-gotta... I c-ccc-can't focus an-and my mmm-m-meds aren't eno-nough...", he wasn't sure why he could say 'Collie' without stuttering... well maybe he did but that hardly mattered.

He looked up at her, trying his best to not look like a stuttering wreck and a worthless officer. She was the only one who ever saw him like this and she had never criticized him for it or gotten mad or frustrated with him, making her the best emdic he had ever met in his book. Of course, that didn't mean he wanted to look like a wreck in front of her or was willing to look incompetent... if anything he wanted to look more like an officer in her presence not less. He wanted her to trust him, to think he could be a real officer, to... he hardly knew her but he wanted her to like him, even in the few months he had known her she had made things a whole lot easier, always ready to help him and he couldn't ever thak her enough. He pushed it out of his mind, because he considered his thoughts innapropriate for a superior officer to have about a subordinate, but he couldn't deny his feelings towards the medic... not that he could tell her, the worthless man he was...

@Pirouette

---

---

@Nevix

Cal was more than a little unnerved. First, he had the most awkward conversation with Esther. Then, the new medic decide to fuck with him.

"You should take a chance on her. I'll even let you two wander off for a little R&R. Doctor's orders."

"I don-", but she was already gone. "ah, shit."

Then the second lieutenant came over to him and started talking. They conversed for awhile. She stated that she liked darts. He nodded. That was how the conversation went. After he had gotten bored with pool, he walked over to indulge in his only talent cooking. As he walked to the meager kitchen in the common, he smiled in spite of himself. He was good at cooking, unlike everything else he did.

By the time he was done, he prepared a stellar meal and passed it out to the others. Then, the radio clicked, and his smile dampened.

"NO-36, this is Overlord. You have a large Tellosian force heading your way. We have a reinforcement force from the capital heading your way. Prepare yourself."

"Alright boys, we got the word! Strap in and get ready to fly out and save some stupid greenhorns. In a few hours, hope you guys don't get airsick, yea?" Jacobson smirked as the taskforce LT came jogging up the ramp as it began to rise up, sealing the belly of the drop ship and he moved up to the cockpit and vanished from sight. Jacobson snorted and crossed his arms over the harness that held him in place inside the dropship, half dozing. They might not get a lot of sleep in the coming days so he would have to get what he could now. He certainly wasn't the only one, either, as most of the grunts and combat support personelle were also sleeping. About the only ones awake were the taskforce LT, and the pilots and crew of the dropship. So the next couple hours should go by relatively uneventful, since the Tellosian's airforce should not have been anywhere in range yet. After all, none of the folks running the observation had noted any unusual risk in moving the taskforce by air, and they had been reliable before, so he was not concerned with sleeping a bit. Besides, not like he would be able to do much on an unarmed dropship.



Jacobson awoke to the blaring alarms of the dropship having picked up on Tellosian fast movers. The Staff Sergeant scowled, any sleepiness that was in his mind already gone as combat instincts kicked in. There was a lot of panic, bitching about why they hadn't gotten any sort of escort out here, all sorts of praying, questioning, and begging to their gods of choice that they somehow live through this attack on the dropship. Jacobson kept his composure, helping those around him calm down as well. Panic and fear wouldn't help at all, and wouldn't change anything in the grand scheme of things. He did cover his left hand, which was shaking from the memory of the last time he had been shot down out of the sky. It was something he had never wanted to repeat, which included flying, let alone getting shot down again. Leave it to the Commonwealth to come up with some method of being hyper effective at shooting down fast movers and anything slower then that. The LT came over the dropship's comm, broadcasting to the entire Taskforce in the process. "Brace for evasive maneuvers gentleman!"

The Dropship slammed down in a steep dive angle which, if it wasn't for the proper securing of the equipment, would have probably killed a fair number of people in the dropship from flying equipment becoming missile hazards. Then they slammed upwards into a steep up angle, trying to likely throw off a fast mover on their tail. Clearly, it didn't work, as a missile or some other ordinance slammed into the bay door of the dropship, blowing it to pieces and sending quite a few men screaming to their deaths as the dropship went into a death spiral. Jacobson screwed his eyes shut, hearing people vomit and scream as the LT went barreling by, screaming as follow on hits from autocannons tore the cockpit to pieces, sending their fearless leader screaming into the frigid beyond. Jacobson had, thank God, chosen a sturdy seat and was still hanging in there when the Dropship slammed into the ground, and as he heard the explosions the numerous concussive waves knocked the Staff Sergeant unconscious for the rest of the landing. Ironically, going limp saved him as those who braced broke limbs and couldn't save themselves as the dropship tore itself apart. From NO-36, one could clearly see the fireball that was the dropship come screaming in and fall out of sight before explosions could be heard. To those that knew, that was their reinforcements that just went up in flames.

"God... Anyone left alive, respond!" The frigid silence was all the response he got. "Damn it, really? Either God hates me and refuses to let me die, or loves me and refuses to let me die. I have no idea which yet..." Jacobson groaned and cut the ties on his harness loose, dropping him down onto the deck of the dropship. Checking himself, he was unharmed. That was helpful, seems his EHCS was intact too. No gear damage, so he wasn't concerned. But he had to grab some of this gear before the whole wreck went up in flames. Or the fast movers came around to make sure nothing would survive even if the landing didn't kill them. Grabbing a bloody supply bag, he emptied the majority of the contents. Mostly stuff that would not be priority in reinforcing the NO-36. Assuming it was still there, those fast movers might have obliterated it. Well, he would freeze to death, starve, or otherwise not make it back to civilization. None of those were good options, to say the least, so as he finished loading some landmines that were still stable, sensors and other miscellaneous gear that his personal tool kit didn't cover before bailing out of the dropship and thanking Ares Corporation that the Field Survival EHCS was designed for this kind of extreme climate. Any extreme, really.

"Have to focus, NO-36 should be that way..." Jacobson snarled under his helmet and pushed through the snow. Just as he was out of sight of the dropship he heard the scream of missiles and threw himself down, watching the missiles dart overhead and fly into the ruined dropship and send the entire thing into a flaming pillar of debris and corpses. Jacobson muttered a curse and heaved himself out of the snow, wading out of the deeper drift he had thrown himself into as he continued moving towards NO-36. The brief included a radio channel, and backup, that should be what the base was using. So, much to his chagrin, he had to open up communications personally as he adjusted the weight on his shoulders and kept moving through the snow, hoping to raise someone before he was shot at by a perimeter guard. "NO-36, come in. This is Staff Sergeant Jacobson, Senior NCO of the relief taskforce. Dropship is shot down, continuing on foot. Will be in visual range momentarily. Respond, over."

Esther was humming the Agni Parthene chant to herself. She could not hear her own humming over the howling wind, but it kept her mind focused, nonetheless. The vibrations in her throat were sufficient. Her knees were propped, and she was taking steady breaths, making sure she could feel her heart pumping properly in her chest. A sound crackled through the roaring wind. Esther ceased her humming, and her body suddenly stiffened from the vibration with her skin tingling from an alertness. She quickly grabbed her hammer and stood up. As she got on her feet, her dazed eyes quickly narrowed in on a large fire shooting through the vacant, wintery sky. Her mouth fell slightly ajar, studying the information in front of her. As her lips touched each other, a small smile curled on their tips. She reached for her communications device and pulled it close to her face, "NO-36, this is P'ivate Fuhst Class Wose. There is an unidentified object falling th'ough the sky seve'al miles f'om the NO-36 post. Ovuh," she rested her hand carefully from her face, waiting for a response. Her eyes continued to watch as the object pierced through the wintery atmosphere.

It was a fallen ship, and it looked morbidly beautiful passing away--at least from Esther's view. She tilted her head, reminiscing her time in Evoria. Fireworks were quite a sensation in Evoria during holiday and festival times. As a child, she always made sure to be on her best behavior during such times so her parents would take her to see the fireworks when they did occur. Her body relaxed. There really was not much she could do for the fallen ship but hope it was the enemy's. She let out a breath, and this time, she didn't have to be good to see the fireworks in the sky.

Esther celebrated the small victory in her head as the fire sailed out of her eyesight. The sky became black and desolate, again. The howling of the wind became more apparent as the visual stimuli disappeared. Esther played the memory of the fallen ship over and over in her mind. It was the most exciting thing she had seen while stationed at NO-36. It was even more exciting than when their last medic went crazy. Her eyes scanned the sky once more. Her heart was fluttering lightly grasping onto what had just happened. She was searching for a trail of smoke, but the conditions were so damn wintery, there was nothing. A heavy weight of disappointment landed on her shoulders. Her head turned to look at her communication device. No one had responded, yet. She glared at the device, scoffing in her suit.

At least, she actually got to see it. Everyone else definitely missed one hell of a show, as short and sweet as it was. Her eyes darted back at the stark sky, studying the positions and angles she recollected seeing the ship fall. Hmmm... I wonder, she thought to herself. Her eyes narrowing as she shifted her weight onto her right leg.

---

---

@agentmanatee
@Briza
@Eisenhorn

Today just wasn't a good day.

D'you know how Kane knew it wasn't a good day?

Well, he'd overslept, for one. Normally he didn't give two shits about oversleeping, but today he was due for a routine stores inspection. His own.

After being posted to this ragged shithole of a border camp, he'd been put straight in charge of their comms and reconnaissance stores. Binoculars, radio sets, wires, the whole nine yards. Stuff he was trained to take care of, but seriously? Some of the shit here hadn't seen action in, like, a decade. The Interum military still used wired receiver communications sets?! Seriously?!

As Kane struggled and hobbled into his uniform, he grumbled and swore to himself. Of all the fucking places in the bloody world he had to get posted to the ass end of nowhere. His fucking luck. Everyone else was definitely already awake and eating. He was always late, not like he cared, but he cared about at least keeping his shit together.

With boots tied and uniform prim and proper, he rushed towards the tiny shack they called a cafeteria for breakfast. As he barged in, he caught the tail end of the radio broadcast.

Hostiles.

A downed allied transport.

Shit and double shit.

"Fuck. I knew today was gonna be a shit day."

The Long Watch II

---

Collie sat quietly and studied the CO while he stumbled through what was bothering him. There was improvement but not much as the man still stuttered. It provided some evidence that it might be psychological but at this point, Collie couldn't be sure. Sadly, she was never able to study medicine in its fullest degree. The military saw to that. They only taught her on how to treat physical wounds and the rest were shoved aside as a 'non-priority', but Collie never liked that outlook. All conditions could be serious and Mika was a prime example of how impactful those other conditions could be.

"You improved!" Collie said after the man said his piece, trying to sound encouraging. "But you can do better!" She leaned back and thought about what else she could do to help outside of just sounding supportive, but she couldn't think of anything useful. There wasn't any other medication on hand that she could give him outside of some sedatives, but putting the CO to sleep might not be the best answer. An idea Collie had been tossing around was giving the man Cannabis, seeing as it had a calming effect, but the military would never allow that to be on the supply request. So Collie was stuck with just trying general therapy, which wasn't having as much of an effect as she wanted, but at least there was some noticeable improvement.

Collie thought about telling Mika the truth about how she was running out of ideas and that her options were really limited, but she didn't have the heart and it was probably best not to mention it. That was when 2nd LT Slade made an appearance. Collie turned and watched the woman give the two of them a briefing on things. Not good. Things could not have come at a worse time, she turned and eyed Mika, seeing how he would react to the news before quietly departing from the storeroom to make her own preparations.

---

Later, news came around that the crashed allied dropship had a survivor inbound. Collie made way straight to the CO and 2nd LT when the news reached her. She had an obligation to see to any injuries in that dropship. Seeing as she was already dressed in her EHCS (excluding the helmet presently), there was no reason why she shouldn't accompany the LT to see to the survivor. She forewent any formalities and got straight to the point. "I recommend I go as the lieutenant's second." She didn't elaborate the reason why she wanted to go but she hoped the two of them would understand. Usually sending someone out on their own isn't recommended anyway.

Mika smiled at the medics modest praise of his speech improvements, blushing lightly as it was thanks to her, "Th-th-thaank you Collie, i-it is laregely be-bbbe-because of y-y-yyyou... I-", he stopped himslef, not sure what he had been about to say... and was afraid to say it. Before he could begina again his second LT entered the storage room. At first he freaked, "L-l-lieute-tenant Slade I-*clears throat*- Corporal C-crast and I were-", she cut him off with her report.

As she gave her report all the color from Mika's face drained. His eyes widened and he had to fight to not let his jaw drop. He almost started shaking, but managed to pull himself together. stamding bolt upright. "Lieu-lieu-lieut-tttt-tenant S-slade... g-gather th-the s-s-sss-squad f-ffff-f-ff-f-to meet ans d-d-ddd-discuss plans... M-mmmm-mmed-med-ic Craster a mmm-m-m-mmmm-mm-second of your time...", as soon as Slade was gone Mika grasped the Medics arms, his eyes were in a panic, darting around uncontrollably, "Collie I-I-I-I you need to... I nnn-nn-neeeeed a m-m-mm-mm-mild s-sss-ss--sssssssss-edaitve... pleAse!", part of his last word was louder than the rest... his Dysprosody was acting up slightly now... this was bad. and he needed something calming, a mild sedative might work, O-o-OR do s-s-ssss-ssome-som-thi-anything p-pl-p-please!"

+After whatever measures have been taken by medic+

Upon recieving the knowledge that their reinforcements were shot out pf the sky and only one survivor remained Lt. Delouse was having a minor panic attack, his mind was racing as he thought about the oncoming enemy and the fact they had virtually no backup.

He second in command then requested she be able to retrieve the lone Staff sergeant in order to hasten his journey to No.-36, with Craster requesting to accompany her. Currently Delouse was having a major panic attack right now, he really did not need the medic far off, but Slade would do better with an escort, and Collie was the only other one with combat experience, "V-very well... retrieve the Staff-Ser-Ser-ergeant... quickly, I n-need everyone here s-so d-dou-doub-ble time."

---

---

@Pirouette
@agentmanatee
@Eisenhorn

Pvt. Callum Webley

It had been about 20 minutes since Slade and Craster had left. Callum hadn't spoken a word since he heard the news. After he had donned "Hound", he walked over to the large slit in the concrete wall of the bunker. His optics zoomed in, and he spotted several small dots approaching the BGO.

Shit.

He turned to Delouse.

"Sir! We have Tellosian force rapidly approaching from the north. It appears to be an advance party of about twenty. I'll standby for orders."

After speaking to the lieutenant, he went and spread the news among the other soldiers. He saved Rose for last.

"Hey, Esther! We have forces incoming, I, uh, figured you'd like to know." He was smiling behind his mask and suddenly realized that the medic may have been right. He shook the thought away and spoke again. "You, uh, technically outrank me, but I recommend you head to combat position." He ran again to the window and crouched in front of it, mounting his rifle on the sill. He was ready.
@agentmanatee
@Briza

"Private First Class Rose, Second Lieutenant Slade reporting. Overlord just announced Tellosian forces are headed to NO-36, reinforcements are led our way. Do you see any signs of hostiles or auxiliaries? Over." Esther was hoping for the actual Lieutenant to respond. A frown furrowed on her face under her mask. She paused and looked for anything else in all the storm. She shifted the vision on the helmet of her suit. Her eyes narrowed, but there was not anything, and through the weather, she could hear nothing of importance.

“Second Lieutenant Slade. This is P’ivate Fuhst Class Wose, The a’ea is clea-uh. Ovuh,” she shifted her position, looking around once more. She felt lost.

The inadequacy of the situation was penetrating her bones nervously. Her eyes narrowed to look beyond the void in front of her. They were out there. She bit her frowning lower lip, and put the communication device away. Her hand grabbed hold of her hammer. She could barely feel it through the gloves of her suit, but her hand was wrapped tightly around the handle. Perhaps, the hammer wasn’t the best weapon to use—but God, she was fuckin’ good with it.

---

"Hey, Esther! We have forces incoming, I, uh, figured you'd like to know," Private Webley paused, "You, uh, technically outrank me, but I recommend you head to combat position."

Esther had stiffened her arm, about to swing the hammer at him, so startled by his sudden bombardment into her concentration. She frowned, again. Softening her arm. She put her hammer back into its holder around her waist and let a small frustrated sigh escape her lips. What was the point of even keeping watch when she was missing half the action? She shook her head, trying to shake the inadequate feeling.

It was actually happening. This is what she had been waiting to happen. She was losing hope that any importance would come from her being in the Interum military. Alas, all she really needed was patience, as her father often told her. She opened the door to the bunker and jetted inside of it, positioning herself in combat mode. She really wanted to be in a tank, but the excitement was decent enough, so she couldn’t really complain.

"Son of a bitch."

Callum had approached him earlier with the news. Enemy advance party, twenty men, heading in from the north. Defensive positions. For him, that meant the small watchtower at the right of the camp. He had gobbled down his breakfast and rushed straight to his bunk to gear up.

Right now he was finishing up his ECHS donning. The enemy could be at their very door and he wouldn't be ready. As he slipped on his helmet, the automated systems within turned themselves on and synced with the rest of his suit. A quick diagnostics check followed; his arm blade extended and stowed itself, then his lenses cycled through all their vision modes, before returning to regular vision.

Kane grabbed his pistol from his locker, stuffed it into his holster, and snagged his rifle as he took off running. He vaulted halfway up the short ladder to the watchtower and climbed the rest of the way up, situating himself facing the north entrance. He sat his rifle's bipod on the rim of the tower wall, then patched himself into the crew's shared comms network.

"O'Connor here. I'm in overwatch at the tower."

"Staff Sergeant Jacobson," Slade communicated through her radio to the survivor. "This is Second Lieutenant Slade reporting with Corporal Craster, our medic. We are headed your direction. Are there any signs of hostilities? What is your condition? Over." Jacobson was relieved to finally hear some sort of response from the outpost. Apparently they were sending a medic as well as the 2nd Lieutenant, which seemed needlessly risky. While it wasn't as bad as sticking the commanding officer of the outpost out by themselves, it wasn't much better. The medic was smart, he conceded, since injuries were uncertain after a crash like that. That was sound, at least, but sending the officer out, not so much. But there was time for that later, as he kept slogging forward through the damn snow, ice, and bitter wind. This was certainly not one of his favorite places to be, the Staff Sergeant decided, and just as he made visual with what looked like the officer and the medic, shit hit the fan. He really should have expected it, spotting the outlines of Tellosian scouts attacking their position. Jcobson snarled under his helmet, responding to their questions coldly as he snapped his carbine up to take aim on one of the scouts. "That answer your question on hostilities, ma'am? I'm fine, focus on the Tellosians and we can exchange pleasantries later."

Jacobson put down one or two scouts, the familiar kick on his rifle against his armor putting rounds down onto the scouts he took aim on. They went down with little ceremony, but one wounded one jumped the 2nd LT as she, sounded like a she and he couldn't tell armor profile due to the weather. Thankfully she seemed adept in hand to hand, which was a god damn miracle. The continued overkill was, however, unnecessary and he pushed through the snow up to her position, glancing at the increasingly desecrated corpse of the Tellosian and sighed in his armor, not broadcasting the noise as he checked to make sure he hadn't run dry on his rifle. He proceeded to actually speak, letting the armor broadcast that locally instead of via radio. "Ma'am, I do believe he's dead. Recommend getting out of this damn cold and into combat positions. Scouts preempt assaults, far as Tellosian battle doctrine is concerned. Far as intel can understand, at any rate. How many of you sorry lot do I have to work with?"

Jacobson hadn't even addressed the medic yet, he had no reason to, therefor he simply didn't. Like he had said before, the time for pleasantries and introductions would have to wait. Right now, if need be, he would personally drag the two of them back to NO-36 to defend against the Tellosian assault. Jacobson would not simply abandon the two of them though, not unless they, for some ungodly reason, decided to not press on back to the outpost to take up defensive positions. He couldn't see very intricate set ups for the outpost from here, which concerned him. Did they not have time to set up defenses, or did they not have the resources? Jacobson was not sure which concerned him more, and he would have to burn that bridge once he crossed it, he suspected. Instead he focused on the now. Get to the outpost, beat back whatever attack was coming, then take stock and figure out how screwed they collectively were.

Callum stared at the slowly approaching black glob on the horizon.

”I guess the Tellosian Army is more impressive up close, eh?

He smiled as he listened to his teammates talk. He stared through the optics, watching as the mighty Tellosian army became more detailed. This was the moment he came to a realization.

I’m going to die here

He sighed, and tightened the grip on his rifle. He glanced at Esther through the corner of his eye.

There are worse people to die with.

It was then that he saw a glint in the snow.

”Oh, shit. Kane, you seeing what I’m seeing? Scope glint in the snow, I think there might be a sni-”

A bullet tore through the cold mountain air and broke through the thin visor covering his eyes. His head was turned at an opportune angle, saving him from death. The bullet struck his left eye at a diagonal trajectory. He hit the ground with a scream of agony. The super heated bullet cauterized the wound, he wouldn’t bleed out. It didn’t save him from the pain. He clawed at his helmet, trying to cradle his face. Finally, mercifully, his body realized that enough was enough and he passed out.