Operation Freedom's Flame - Part I

Situation Room - SCCV VERSAILLES

A projection screen and interstellar map dominate the aft bulkhead of this spacious chamber, with a podium before the screen that bears the Vanguard seal - an eagle clutching a lightning bolt in one taloned foot and a bushel of wheat in the other, against a backdrop of blazing stars. Two dozen chairs are arranged in four rows of six for crew and pilots to gather for briefings. A Stellar Consortium index terminal is off to port. To starboard, a holographic imager table allows officers to plan military strategy in three dimensions.

Warrick strides into the situation room, face set into a grim mask. He moves to stand near the few Marines immediately present, hands falling to the small of his back, palms out.

Vech stands near Rathmon, talking with him quietly.

Avocet arrives from Corridor - Deck 1 - SCCV VERSAILLES

Sondrix, who is standing by Daerius, comes to salute as Warrick comes in. A beautiful bruise in dullish shades of blue and purple spans about an inch of her jaw.

Avocet strides into the situation room.

Daerius also salutes Warrick, expression even more stone faced than usual.

Warrick turns smartly, hand flicking up to his brow in an exceedingly precise salute to Avocet.

From Corridor - Deck 1 - SCCV VERSAILLES, Cubana yells, "Ladder Clear."

Avocet snaps off a salute to those gathered and takes his place at the head of the table.

Avocet sets a datapad on the conference table, then clears his throat and smoothes the front of his uniform. "The time for exercises is over, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight, it's for real. Tonight, we begin the difficult task of liberating Sivad."

You feel a sudden lift as the SCCV Versailles glides forth from the docking bay.

Marcus arrives from Corridor - Deck 1 - SCCV VERSAILLES.

Marcus has arrived.

Avocet nods to Marcus.

Giovanni arrives from Corridor - Deck 1 - SCCV VERSAILLES.

Giovanni has arrived.

Avocet presses a button on the imaging table, calling up a display showing the Ikeopi System.

Sondrix's eyes are somber, attention fixed on the General. Notably, she is back in Marine service uniform and standing with the 3rd Regimental Combat Team, the darkening bruise on her jaw an indication of perhaps too rough a spar at some point.

Giovanni enters the room, looking around hastily. He sighs and takes a position standing near the door. He looks towards the General.

Durinde arrives from Corridor - Deck 1 - SCCV VERSAILLES.

Activating a zoom feature, the General highlights the planet Sivad. "Here's the plan: The Versailles will close to the edge of sensor range with the Ikeopo System. The Versailles will *not* get close enough for the Sivadian stations to pick up her trace."

Durinde enters the room.

Marcus is just now pulling on his flight suit, an angry expression over his face. "General.." He says quietly, "With all due respect, I feel the Versailles is unfit for such action at this time."

Avocet glances to Rathmon. "Major, you will launch your two fighter bombers, with perhaps a Stinger or two in support." He glances toward Marcus. "Tell that to Montevedo before he kills another 10,000 people."

T'ralthon says, "Captain, every second wasted equivalates to more lives lost on Sivad to that madman."

Avocet clears his throat. "Now, where was I?

Rathmon nods to the General, "Aye, sir."

"I'm unaware if it's been brought up, but just now, after complying with Colonel Cubana's orders, the Navigational systems went dead, nothing was responding. Sensors, nada. Everything was kaput. I feel it's in the best interest of the Consortium and the Vanguard to keep this vessel docked until the problem is tracked down...Less you have a dead crew because it wont respond." Marcus says stoically.

Josiah arrives from Corridor - Deck 1 - SCCV VERSAILLES.

Avocet nods to Marcus. "Fine. Noted." He looks to Warrick. "Colonel."

Warrick replies to Avocet, expression remaining simply cool throughout Marcus's outburst. "Sir."

The doors open with a swish. Without a sound, the lanky Val Shohobian proceeds into the room, joining the already-assembled crowd.

Avocet zooms further in on Sivad. "Your crew will launch aboard the Bunker Hill while the fighters distract Montevedo's assets. You will land in the service district of Enaj, outside Independence Dome. And that's where it gets hairy."

Marcus shrugs, staring coldly at Avocet before turning on his heel and leaving, "I'll be playing with a new fighter...I'm sure one of my trainee's can take my spot." He says to Josiah, abruptly disappearing through the corridor.

Marcus heads into Corridor - Deck 1 - SCCV VERSAILLES.

Sondrix's eyes glitter just a fraction at the words 'hairy'. However her expression is mirror-smooth without a ripple as she studies the map intently.

Warrick's gaze trails after Marcus. It then returns to Avocet.

Avocet calls up a display showing a map of the city, divided into three districts: Service, Residential and Military, all connected by a maglev rail system. "The residential area has been sealed off, the tracks blasted. You will have to make it to the military district on foot. That means, most likely, some heavy firefighting."

Sidestepping the swiftly-moving Captain, the XO's silver-haired head bobs in an acknowledging nod.

Daerius's light blue eyes focus on the map as well, demeanor still in formal at ease.

Rathmon turns to the General, "I believe we should choose a tac channel now sir."

Warrick frowns, but nods. "It is unlikely, then, that we will be able to approach the area by stealth?

Giovanni stands along the back wall, silently watching the goings on in the room, awaiting his time to speak.

The map zooms in on the military district. The General says, "Until just a few months ago, this base was ours. We aim to take it back. It is where Montevedo is holed up." He looks first to Rathmon. "Choose a channel." He then looks to Warrick. "I'm telling you that you have two choices for landing - neither of them good, and neither of them private."

Rathmon nods to the General, pulls out a coin and flips it.

Sondrix interjects quietly. "What are the options sir, if I may ask?"

Rathmon puts the coin back.

Avocet pushes a button, drawing the map back out to city scale. Two red spots illuminate at either end. "One is the landing pad outside Independence Dome. The other is the main airfield at the military complex. I daresay your chances will be better landing away from the heavy artillery."

Avocet glances toward Rathmon. "Major, what frequency?"

Sondrix studies the map intensely, eyes tracking to and fro. As if she is trying to memorize it.

Rathmon says, "222.22 sir."

Giovanni speaks up, "Sir, will the Indomitable be used in his operation?" his voice carries throughout the room, his rough voice accenting heavily by the Italian language.

Avocet shakes his head. "I think we'll need all available crew stationed aboard Versailles for now. If the Sivadians catch wind of Indomitable coming after the last stunt you pulled, millions may die."

T'ralthon says, "Which is what we must avoid at all costs."

Giovanni lets his eyes flutter to the ground slightly and nods, "Yes sir."

Avocet takes the opportunity to gesture to T'ralthon. "The generous Otherian general, T'ralthon, will be acting in a field capacity as an advisor on this mission. I expect him to receive the proper respect."

T'ralthon nods.

Warrick says, grimly, "Of course, General. What is our immediate objective upon landing, sir?

Durinde says, "I am wondering what my role in this operation will be sir."

Avocet looks to Warrick. "Our immediate objective will be securing the spaceport and gaining access to the city. The spaceport is probably guarded, but not as heavily as the military base."

Sondrix interjects again quietly. "Sir, with all respect, I would think that the spaceport is more heavily guarded than before, due to the recent intrusion. Montevedo is, from all appearances, paranoid to the last sir."

Avocet shakes his head. "Understand something: He doesn't have limitless military resources. He can't spread himself too thin - and our sensor readings show he has concentrated his assets around that military base."

Gradic arrives from Corridor - Deck 1 - SCCV VERSAILLES.

Durinde Crosses his arms and waits for his question to be answered.

Avocet lifts his chin and glances toward Rathmon. "Major, you raised a very important concern earlier.

The Geiger projection readings returned negative. He hasn't planted any nukes."

Rathmon nods, "That’s a relief."

Avocet turns his attention to Durinde. "Now, as for you, you will assist on the Versailles as navigator."

Durinde says, "Aye sir"

Rathmon raises a hand, "General....?"

Avocet nods to Rathmon. "Yes?"

Rathmon nods to himself, "You consider air support for the ground pounders when the fighters are neutralized?"

Avocet nods. "Yes. But here's the problem. We can't risk excessive civilian casualties. That means we can't bring in air support until the gropos reach the military district."

Warrick says, "How many of my men will engage the enemy, Sir?"

Rathmon nods, "General, we can hit the military district and divert some attention."

Avocet raises a hand. "One question at a time, people."

Avocet says "One question at a time."

Warrick clears his throat, then repeats his question, "How many of my men will be assigned to this mission, Sir?"

Avocet smiles tightly at Warrick. "How many do you think you need?"

Warrick says, "In a heavy engagement with a fortified, well armed force? All of them. However, it was my understanding that the General had something else in mind."

Starr arrives from Corridor - Deck 1 - SCCV VERSAILLES.

Avocet nods to Warrick. "Your discretion, Colonel. However many you take, be sure the unit is small enough to be mobile and effective."

Sondrix turns her attention from the map to Warrick and Avocet, eyes glimmering.

Warrick says, "Of course, General."

Avocet looks to the pilots. "Anything else?

Vech shakes his head.

Rathmon nods, "Sir, if your done I'd like to talk to the pilots."

Starr quietly steps into the room, then salutes. "Private Starr, reporting for duty sir."

Gradic watches it all chewing on a chocolate covered protein stick goody from the mess hall

Rathmon says, "And I believe sir, that we can strafe the military district after neutralizing the hostiles, without inflicting civvie casualties."

Rathmon chuckles, "At least soften them up a bit."

Avocet nods to Rathmon. "Go right ahead. Colonel Warrick, talk with your people too. Versailles crew, get to your stations and await my orders."

Rathmon nods to the General, "Pilots if you would remain."

Gradic remains seated

The Marines are of course, standing with Warrick.

Warrick salutes Avocet, expression remaining stony. "Marines, with me."

Standing to his feet, the olive-skinned XO inclines his head in a quick nod. His body turns and departs on swift strides.

Vech stands up, and stretches a bit. He then moves in closer with the bunch of pilots.

Josiah heads into Corridor - Deck 1 - SCCV VERSAILLES.

Rathmon looks at the General, "Sir one other thing, wouldn't the Marines need a good medic?"

Giovanni steps into the room a bit more and addresses the General, "Sir, what would you like me to do during this operation? Hold down the fort back home?" his expression is hard.

Avocet chuckles. "They've got one in the form of their sniper."

Rathmon chuckles, "Aye, Good."

Warrick moves towards the door, back exceedingly straight.

Sondrix comes to attention as Warrick gives his order and follows at a quick trot, eyes mercurial.

T'ralthon stands.

Starr follows the two Marines, a calm shadow.

Avocet says, "Mr. Giovanni, bridge."

Daerius studies the map a moment longer, before walking toward the door after the others.

Avocet turns and strides toward the door.

The Marines deploy and head into the:

Carrier Crew Berthing - SCCV VERSAILLES

Privacy never seemed to enter the equation when the designers planned this cavernous chamber, with rows of bunks three high and lockers, also stacked in threes, for personal effects. Each bed and each locker has a slot for a removable card with the stenciled name of each crew member assigned berthing here. Privacy only seems to come into play at all are the bathrooms, with enclosed toilets - although the washbasins and showers in the gender-divided facilities are built to contain groups - not individuals - with multiple shower heads dispensing reclaimed water.

Sondrix heads to her locker at once and yanks it open. Battle gear, black and sleek, is strapped on with quiet competence.

Starr efficiently rushes to her locker and puts on her battle gear.

Daerius opens up his locker, bringing out fire arms and armor. A small object is tucked between his shirt and his skin.

Sondrix slings out all three of her firearms - she must have had them moved from the armory since yesterday - and tosses them onto her shoulder. A flat small backpack is hefted on. "All right Starr, FetchStorm...Let's go for the kill." With that she turns and heads out.

Starr checks the safeties on her pistol and rifle, holstering them in appropriate places. She then places her bowie knife in a boot holster. The locker is slammed shut.

All the while she's moving, Sondrix is checking her firearms. She adjusts her head gear and races out.

The Marines head out to the fighter bay to muster at the Bunker Hill:

Sondrix strides towards the Bunker Hill, head held high, firearms slung over her shoulder.

Kaison scuffles into the fighter bay as he hurries to put on the sleeves of his flightsuit while wielding his helmet under his arm. A weird and difficult task under any circumstances.

[Loudspeaker]: How's it coming gunnery?

Starr strides behind her fellow Marines, oddly composed.

Avocet arrives from Corridor - Deck 3 - SCCV VERSAILLES.

Kaison finally manages to fit the remaining parts of his jumpsuit as he pulls on the central zip of his suit, closing it tightly. He weaves through the numerous technicians and flight control workers to his fighter.

Avocet strides into the bay, boots thumping on the deck.

Avocet says, "Marines, make sure to monitor 222.22 and 333.33 on com. 333.33 will be the fighter tac frequency."

Kaison sweeps back his hair and puts on his helmet before jumping into the seat inside the cockpit of Banshee One.

Sondrix comes to salute as Avocet speaks. "Yes sir."

Avocet snaps off a salute. "Good luck, Marines."

Starr salutes. "Thank you sir."

Avocet turns and walks back toward the door.

Avocet heads into Corridor - Deck 3 - SCCV VERSAILLES.

Warrick arrives from Corridor - Deck 3 - SCCV VERSAILLES.

Starr adjusts her com unit, then salutes as Warrick comes near.

Warrick strides into the bay, entire form covered in a heavy suit of armor, though he shows no evidence of strain. More marines file in behind him-- 48 in all, moving to assemble 6 tight lines of eight near the bunker hill.

Sondrix has already fallen into line, in full combat gear, three nasty, if sleek-looking firearms slung over her shoulder effortlessly. A gaunt figure from some Gothic fantasy almost.

Daerius moves into line, tall form looming.

Starr steps into her place, well armed, well armored, and a spark forming in her dull grey eyes.

Warrick's hands fall to the base of his spine, palms out. His voice is deep, carrying over the roar of departing fighters. "Today, men, we will be tested sorely. We will be facing an enemy that is prepared for our arrival. An enemy that paranoia has led it to slaughter its own peoples. We will be outmanned, outgunned, and unsupported, but one thing is clear...We must succeed.

Warrick says, "There is no other option. If we fall, Sivad and its peoples will suffer mightily for our failure. Our own deaths would only forecast those of millions. Therefore, we must succeed."

Warrick's commlink crackles to life, and he speaks into it. "Acknowledged."

Sondrix's eyes flare, glimmer as Warrick speaks, her bearing straight and precise. The heavy armor looks almost out of place on her thin frame but it doesn't seem to carry much weight for her.

Warrick clears his throat continuing, "Any strategist would call this a nightmare, a worst case scenario. They would weigh the odds against us. I am unwilling to accept that assessment, however. It fails to take one thing into account, the most important thing-- we are Marines, we're here to do a job, and death is not our enemy. Our enemy will be uncertain. Our enemy will fear our guns, the fire in our eyes...So our enemy will fail. We will succeed. Why? Because we are Marines!

Warrick's commlink crackles to life. This time, it is ignored.

Starr clenches her jaw slightly, breaking her masklike visage for a moment.

Sondrix responds with a precise, "Yes sir!" even as her eyes gleam mercurially.

Daerius snaps out, "Yes, Sir!"

Starr and the rest of the Marines yell a hearty, "Yes, sir!"

Warrick looks each of the Marine's in the front row in the eye, moving down the line slowly. He then breaks into a positively ferocious grin, "It's time to go, kids. We've got a job to do." With that, he turns, clanking towards the hatch. He punches in a code, the hatch sliding open. "GO!" he barks, and points towards the hatch.

The Marines break into a disciplined run, filing into the Bunker Hill like a black wave. Sondrix unslings one rifle and flips down the shade of her helmet, adjusting the microphone, and files in with the rest of her crew mates.

Warrick flips down the shade of his own helm, entering last.

Airlock 

Pressurized bulkhead doors are installed on opposite ends of this gunmetal gray chamber. Illumination panels are arrayed evenly along the walls and on the ceiling. Life support conduits and atmospheric scrubbers weave their way to starboard. The deck plating is scuffed and dark. Decompression hazard signs are posted prominently.

Starr enters through the hatch of the ship.

Daerius enters through the hatch of the ship.

Warrick enters through the hatch of the ship.

Warrick says, "Sondrix-- you have the con."

Warrick heads into Access Corridor .

After a rocky flight, the Marines finally make their descent on Sivad:

Access Corridor 

A broad corridor with high ceilings serves as a sort of spine for this vessel. The walls are gunmetal gray, and dark deck plates cover the floor and clank beneath the feet of those who stride upon it. Illumination strips are arranged neatly overhead. A bright green stripe divides the starboard bulkhead horizontally.

Warrick strides towards the airlock. "This is it Marines."

Daerius looks at Warrick and nods.

Starr heads into Airlock .

Sondrix pulls down her visor and unslings her rifle. "Hell and back."

Airlock 

Pressurized bulkhead doors are installed on opposite ends of this gunmetal gray chamber. Illumination panels are arrayed evenly along the walls and on the ceiling. Life support conduits and atmospheric scrubbers weave their way to starboard. The deck plating is scuffed and dark. Decompression hazard signs are posted prominently.

Warrick touches a pad by the hatch, which slides open. He turns to the young-faced Marines crowded behind him, barking, "DEPLOY NOW! Secure the landing site! GO GO GO!

Sondrix clips a silencer onto her rifle as she jumps out with the rest of the Marines, visor flipped down over her eyes. "Yes sir!" she growls along with the rest of her regiment mates.

Starr rushes out of the airlock with her fellow Marines like a pack of hunting dogs.

Landing Pad - Service District - Sivad

A broad expanse of blast-pocked tarmac, scattered with the ruins of blasted ships and humanoid skeletons. A smoky pall lingers over the sparkling green waves of Regreb Bay, beside the shattered remnants of a large geodesic dome and the wrecked towers of the commercial, industrial and residential regions of Enaj.

Three militia soldiers are standing near the entrance to Independence Dome, drawing pulse rifles as the Marines emerge from the Bunker Hill.

Sondrix's rifle is up at her shoulder even as she squeezes off four shots in rapid succession, diving to the side.

Daerius brings his weapon up as he darts to the immediate right upon exiting. He sights and fires all in one motion.

Starr takes a deep breath as she scans for potential targets, her pulse rifle at the ready. Sighting the soldiers, she quickly fires.

A ragged war cry bursts from Warrick's throat, as he emerges with his troops-- 48 howling marines bear come screaming out of the bay of the Bunker Hill. Seamlessly, and without breaking stride, the Colonel whips his carbine towards the nearest militaman, firing a shot-- there's no hesitation before the barrel shifts towards a second enemy soldier, the man moving faster than any man should move.

The militia officers aren't very skilled, obviously, and certainly don't have the training of the Vanguard Marines. Sondrix's shot strikes one in the head - an instant kill, dropping him. Daerius and Starr riddle the second with energy blasts, frying him. Warrick drops the third with a shot in the head. You can hear footsteps coming from inside the dome.

A squad of fifteen militia officers scrambles onto the landing pad, guns ready and blazing.

Without any hesitation, Starr rushes forward with her fellow Marines towards the dome, her voice silent though her rifle blazes, firing at the squad.

One of the officers in the militia group drops to one knee and squeezes off a shot at Starr.

Daerius turns, firing rapidly, but for the moment maintaining his position. As the others rush forward, he slows down shots, aiming careful to avoid hitting his own people.

Sondrix is on her feet in a trice, dodging behind a chunk of large, metallic debris that might have once been part of a ship. She sights the officer targeting Starr coolly and fires, ducking down.

He promptly sprawls backward, dead, as Starr's and Sondrix's blasts hit him in the chest.

Three more militiamen go down in hails of energy fire, critically wounded or dead.

Five of the militia officers do like the Marines, and duck behind wreckage as barricades.

The other six keep firing at the Marines, without cover.

Warrick's rifle snaps towards a militia man, then another, the Colonel aiming and firing apparently without regard for the results of his weaponfire. There's a strange smoothness to his movements, the way he snaps from target to target, motion to motion-- no hesitation at all, no delay between one movement and the next movement. He takes partial cover behind a piece of wreckage, his shots concentrated on the exposed Militiamen.

Out again towards the dome. Sondrix keeps moving, utilizing debris as cover. To her left, several Marines fan out. She sights again and releases a rapid-fire blast towards what remain of the militia on the tarmac, ducking as a sizable chunk of concrete blasts off from being hit by someone's fire. Her eyes are mercurial, almost demonic.

The six militiamen in front of the door go down in a charred blaze. The five behind cover are another matter.

Daerius pauses, and rapidly moves to get a better angle on some of the men seeking cover. He sights and fires.

Starr lays down some more fire, then finally ducks behind some debris.

The shots from Daerius are on target, but strike debris

A Marine-- Hendrix by name-- staggers, a second too late getting to cover and struck by several blasts of incoming fire. He takes two more steps, pitches to his knees, then finally to the ground.

Warrick shifts his carbine to his left hand, right hand slipping into the side-pouch of his armor. It emerges an instant later, a silverish grenade clutched within. Lights flick on as the Colonel squeezes the activation pad. He half-stands, lobbing it towards the entrenched enemy.

WHAP-BLAMMMMMMM! Militiamen and their assorted parts are hurled in all directions as the grenade explodes. Shards of metal debris whizz-snap through the air.

Daerius straightens, efficiently turning his attention to scanning the area for more targets..

No other troops appear to be coming at this time. The ones that remain are dead or dying.

Sondrix shelters briefly behind her cover of debris to avoid being chunked by shrapnel, then she's up and moving rapidly, gaining further ground. The whole time her head is tilted in an attitude almost of listening, strangely enough, demeanor tense.

Starr stands as soon as the shrapnel is clear, then continues in her silent tread, rifle at the ready, eyes scanning.

The redoubtable stout form of Private Timson can be seen making strides for the dome, grim determination on his face, rifle slung to the ready.

Warrick raises his arm in the air, then lowers it towards the Independence Dome. He barks, "Covered advance...Squad one forward, squad two cover."

The Marines of Squad Two level their rifles at the dome, those of squad one moving towards it at a run, Warrick in their midst.

The way into the dome seems clear, if fogged with smoke and the stench of burnt flesh.

The Marines then head into:

Independence Dome - Service District - Sivad

Dark, crusted stains and shattered shards of glass broken from the panes high above in this ruined geodesic dome cover the black-veined marble floor. An angular chrome torch that once burned with the city's so-called Eternal Flame lies bent and toppled next to its marble dais. The air is thick with the smell of smoke and death.

A shard of glass about two feet long falls from above and just misses Daerius, shattering on the floor.

Starr turns her head to avoid the slivers, then looks up for signs of the enemy.

Daerius's eyes scan the area, his form held casually, almost non-chalantly. Then the glass hits. He turns his head to the side, to avoid glass to the face, taking a rapid few steps to the side.

Sondrix snaps her head up at once, rifle aimed and at the ready. Her attitude of silent listening hasn't changed even as she prowls forward.

No one up there - except - wait, yes, a sniper high above.

Starr fires at the sniper as soon as she sights the soldier, then looks around for any others.

Outside, you can hear rumbling in the distance.

Sondrix's finger tightens on the trigger of her rifle, aiming for the dark form crouched above, darting to one side.

The shots both strike the sniper cleanly in the chest, he loses his grip on the girder and falls to his death, breaking his back on the broken sculpture in the center of the dome.

Warrick says, "Armor inbound, Marines! Keep moving! Vasquez, Irahoi, look sharp.""

Warrick growls, "Marcos, inform the Versailles that we're down safe."

Daerius moves, still scanning.

Sondrix prowls forward, eyes gleaming. "'Ware bally traps," she barks. "None so far but who knows."

Starr rushes after Daerius, Vasquez, Irahoi, and the rest of the pack of wolves.

The door is cleared.

Warrick moves forward, staying near Vasquez and Irahoi-- one a man, one a woman, both largish, each bearing an extra piece of equipment-- the long, hollow tube of a concentrated pulse emitter, an anti-armor weapon.

Marcos nods curtly and adjusts his headset to communicate with the Versailles as ordered. He too moves behind the two Marines with the anti-armor weapons, pistol at the ready.

Dlanod Street - Service District - Sivad

Black smoke roils overhead along this street, strewn with trash, blasted hulks of hovercars and dead bodies. The stench of decay hangs heavy here, near the ruins of the now-ironic Independence Dome.

Daerius instantly moves to the side of the door, crouching a little.

A heavily armored tank escorted by 10 militiamen rumbles east on the street.

Starr takes the other side, standing back.

The militiamen see the Marines emerge from the dome and signal for the tank to stop, drawing their guns.

The tank swivels its turret toward the dome.

Somewhere, beyond the rumblings and cacophonous background noise, you hear the high-pitched cry of an infant.

Warrick barks, "Cover, now!" Heeding his own order, he moves behind the blasted out hulk of a hovercar,

Vasquez with him, Irahoi with another element of the squad. Vasquez levels the tube of the emitter at the tank, squeezing the trigger. The barrel glows, softly at first, then in an instant it's at a burning intensity, a huge, swelling ball of energy streaking towards the tank.

Daerius runs for some nearby debris, managing to get off a few shots at the militamen with the tank.

The Marine rocket shot blasts right down the barrel of the cannon turret. The militiamen see that, and in the few seconds they have to consider, three choose to run toward the Marines. The other seven scramble west.

Sondrix crouches by Daerius, already unslinging another of her rifles - a long-bored, snub-nosed beauty of heavy gear. Almost at once though, her head raises at the child's cry, her jaw tightening. "Cover me FetchStorm!" she shouts as she dives forward to cover. An eerie keening howl emits from her throat, the war cry of Wolf Woman on the hunt, even as she blasts away.

The shots from Daerius and Sondrix kill two of the approaching militiamen.

Starr dives for the cover of a burnt out car, then pops up to fire off a few shots.

The tank explodes violently, sending shrapnel in all directions and baking the militamen inside. The shrapnel wounds the other militiamen who were fleeing west.

Warrick opens fire on the retreating Militiamen, finger flicking on the trigger with amazing speed.

Daerius fires, covering Sondrix's path with a steady hand.

Warrick's shots strike one of the retreating soldiers in the back, dropping him.

Squad two joins Squad one at this point, the concentrated fire of 47 Marines raking out at the remaining enemy.

The way up the stairs to the maglev platform is clear.

Sondrix hisses as a chunk of flying debris bounces off her helmet, scraping a gash across the part of her cheek that's not covered by the visor. She darts forward from debris pile to debris pile as best as she can towards the maglev platform. The whole time through she's straining, her head twisting from side to side, as if looking for something. Perhaps trying to locate that keening child.

Warrick says, "Squad Two, you've got point...Go! Go!" He waves emphatically towards the stairs, the Marines of Squad Two moving at a run up. After the last of them hits the bottom of the stairs, Warrick makes a gesture, hand rising then falling towards the stairs, the Marines of Squad One beginning to move."

Starr goes at a flat out run to the platform, though her eyes are constantly scanning.

Elevated Platform - Service District - Sivad

The peaked brown metal roof above has been twisted and gnarled by an energy blast. The platform stands about thirty feet above the wreckage of Dlanod street, the main thoroughfare through what once served as the city's service district.

As the Marines arrive, the 10 militiamen here open fire.

In the distance, you can make out the fiery ruins of the city's residential district.

Starr calmly fires back, a woman in her element, then ducks for cover.

Sondrix immediately takes shelter behind what would have been a ticket stand in its unmangled form, squeezing off a few blasts at the militiamen. She drops to one knee and continues to fire.

Starr keeps firing.

The well-aimed blasts strike their targets, sending militiamen reeling, arms pinwheeling, off the platform to the ground 30 feet below. Only five left.

Without any change of expression, Daerius stands there, sights, fires, and sight again, all in swift motions.

Daerius strikes one militiaman in the head, while one of the enemy manages to blast Daerius' right leg. Luckily, the Marine's armor absorbs much of the impact.

By the time Squad One crests the rise, squad two is already heavily engaged-- Sergeant Benson is struck in the head, killed instantly. As Warrick crests the stairs, he runs towards Sondrix's position, carbine's muzzle blazing with energy, a look of fury in his eyes.

Warrick takes out the rest of the militiamen, with help from the squad incoming.