Author Notes:
Yeah... Yeah, I think I cooked with the new GSS chapter. So enjoy as always, and don't forget to give me comments, reviews, Power Stones, or other kinds of support, pretty please.
I am legit too daze by recaf to do anything else at 2:00 AM lol
Oh, and last chance to get the 15& discount on all tiers!
https://www.patreon.com/Heartbreak117
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"Damn it..." Comes the bitter voice of Phoenix 1-1. "Can they even survive that crash?"
It's a legitimate question, considering his flight buddies had their Vulture crashing through an entire building. As tough as a Vulture is, being a literal battering ram isn't its specialty.
"Can't see anything with the smoke..." Weiss, standing next to me, frowns as she surveys the area where Phoenix 1-2 crashed. "We will need to get closer."
"That's unknown territories we'll be heading into." Phoenix 1-1 reminds us through the Vox-link, his voice is laced with resolve.
"As Ein has said, no one gets left behind." Weiss reiterates my statement, to which I give her a nod.
We both know that if we are to rescue the survivors, if there are any, it will require us to be deployed on foot, potentially right in the thick of it. Even with CAS provided by the Roughnecks and the last Phoenix, it's still just two Guardswomen on the ground. Suffice to say, if the area is a hot zone, we're outnumbered from the get-go. If either Weiss or I is to be incapacitated, then the whole rescue operation is a bust, with potentially disastrous consequences. Knowing this, Weiss must be very against the notion of us setting out to rescue Phoenix 1-2; her directive of keeping me alive is warring against it. Yet, by now, Weiss knows me well enough to understand that she alone can't convince me against this venture. So, she has no choice but to go along with my selfishness and make sure that I don't perish in some corner, or at least that's one of the reasons.
Frankly speaking, I don't think we have it in our bones to leave our comrades hanging and perish when we are in a position to render immediate aid. Should the strategic implications call for it, maybe we would have no other recourse but to abandon them. Now, though, I don't think anything or anyone, other than the heretics, will be upset with us staging a daring rescue to extract two experienced airmen.
"High Command approves of us closing in for a recon pass." Blake announces, grabbing our attention. "However, they ask us to pull back if there's no confirmation of any survivor. If there are, then it's up to our discretion on whether to proceed with the extraction or wait for the main force's arrival."
"Good enough on my book." Yang replies. "Are our Guardswoman friends ready?"
"Ready when you all are." I answer, mirroring Weiss' action to give my Lasrifle a final lookover.
"Roger that. Phoenix 1-1, you lead the way." Blake gives the command.
"Understood... Keep your eyes peeled, people."
As the last Vulture takes point and flies us nearer to the crash site, the flight path brings us into a curtain of Fog of War, created by the Aeronautica Imperialis' prior bombing mission. For a brief moment, the human eyes fail to perceive anything but a dense layer of dark plume and soot. The entire passenger cabin of Blake's Valkyrie is completely engulfed in a low-visibility debuff, and that's not a joke on my part. If not for the rebreathers we have equipped on our helmets, Weiss and I would have coughed our asses off.
The soot will be the most annoying thing to clean off our gears, however. And what kind of crap is it nowadays that can stick itself to the glasses on my scope just after a bit of exposure? The fouling of my scope is so bad that I straight-up remove it and leave it in a storage compartment near the door of the Valkyrie. It's not like I need an optic anyway, as I am more comfortable with an ironsight. Weiss sees what I am rocking with, or without, and chooses not to say anything as she herself is having the same issue with her visor. It's annoying enough that she has to take a cloth, not sure where she even gets that from, and use it to wipe her helmet, and mine.
"Thanks, Weiss." I say, earning a thumbs-up from her as she tosses the rag away.
When we're through the Fog of War, what immediately comes into view is the cultists down below. Lots and lots of them, crawling through each and every single opening in the bombed infrastructures of Installation 08.
"By the Emperor, I thought we dealt with most of them already!"
Near immediately after Yang's complaint, the three remaining VTOLs of our Flight open fire, strafing the cultists below with an unrelenting barrage of bolt rounds and lasers. Weiss and I pitch in from both sides of Blake's Valkyrie, our las shots, invisible or not, reap death and debilitating hits in a constant. None of us even bothers to question why they are all bunching up like a can of sardines, or where in the Warp did they come from. We see cultists, we shoot them. And in much of the same manner, when the colors of our VTOLs have made apparent that we are the Loyalists, and that we're turning them into pin-cushions, the heretics retaliate with enough fervor that reminds me of a desperate anti-drone maneuver in the 21st century. Fortunately for us, the durability of our Valkyrie is undisputed against small arms fire. However, the constant banging and ricocheting of slugs against the airframe force Weiss and me to duck back inside the VTOL.
"By the Throne, they're pissed..." Weiss complains, having narrowly escaped a slug that's bout to be flung off her helmet. It wouldn't kill her, but it would have given her a bump.
I contact Blake after giving Weiss a comforting pat on the shoulder. "How far are we till the crash site, pilot?"
Blake immediately replies as yet a couple more slugs impact the rear ramp of the Valkyrie. "We're right on top of it. Check the right side, Corporal."
"We're on it."
Weiss and I peer through the side door, laying eyes on the near-total state of the building that Phoenix 1-2 crashed through, and right beneath the pile of rubble is the broken husk of Phoenix 1-2's Vulture.
"I see lasers!" Weiss announces as Blake circles her aircraft over the crash site.
"There, by the cockpit!" I point out. "One of the pilots is taking cover outside of the Vulture, while the other is still inside. Both of them are alive and are still fighting the heretics encroaching on their location."
It is, indeed, a desperate last stand by the two survivors of Phoenix 1-2. From my vantage point, I can see that one of the airmen is seemingly trapped inside the cockpit of the Vulture, while the other is trying to pull him out to no avail. They both are using their Laspistols to suppress the few cultists that are rolling into secure the crash site, and to execute them. After our flyover above that blob of numerous heretics, we all know that it's just a matter of time before the minute resistance of Phoenix 1-2 will be overwhelmed.
"Blake, get us down there!" I say sternly through Vox while reloading my Lasrifle.
Time is of the essence; the longer we delay the rescue, the closer that horde of hungry cultists is to the crash site. Even then, the vanguard of that horde is but a minute or two away.
"All aircraft, provide cover fire! Corporal, I hope you know what you're doing!" Blake replies as she lowers the altitude.
Roughneck 1-2 and Phoenix 1-1 follow suit, whatever weapons they still have blazing furious trails on the cultists that are starting to surround the crash site.
"Go! Go! Go!" Blake shouts as she hovers the Valkyrie a meter above ground.
Weiss and I jump out, only to immediately open fire on a few cultists coming over the rubble of the building Phoenix 1-2 crashed down on. That little melee formation is cut down unceremoniously, stumbling down the mound of rubble and smashing against anything and everything. Weiss and I then cautiously but swiftly run the last few steps to the downed Vulture. The two airmen are relieved to see help has arrived as Roughneck 1-2 and Phoenix 1-1 maintain overwatch above us.
"The Emperor has graced us with a miracle today..." Says the pilot of Phoenix 1-2, who is the one taking cover behind the fuselage of the Vulture.
"But... Surely we aren't worth such a risky endeavor.. Gargh!" The co-pilot, while similarly grateful to us, fears that we have undertaken an unnecessary risk. He is also the one stuck to his seat in the Vulture, a metal rod from who knows where has impaled him into the aircraft through the stomach area.
No wonder the pilot has been sticking around; his friend isn't going anywhere without help.
"This is Frogger 3-1," I report through Vox. "We've linked up with the two survivors. One of them is pinned to the wreckage. Prepping for extraction now, request covering fire."
"Ein!" Weiss shouts, raising her Lasrifle to suppress the same location where we have killed the group of blade-wielding cultists.
I, however, have targets of my own to deal with. On the other side of the Vulture, down the very end of the alleyway, multiple heretics round the corner.
"Get over here!" I scream to the pilot of Phoenix 1-2 as I pull the trigger repeatedly, killing one traitor of mankind after another.
The pilot crouch running onto my side of the aircraft before, alongside his co-pilot, uses their Laspistols to help us kill off this round of cultists.
"Damn it, hold on!" Blake curses as her Valkyrie rises to a higher altitude.
Together with the other two VTOLs, Blake unleashes a relentless, deadly hail on the enemy's avenues of approach.
"There's our chance!" I say, focusing back onto the pinned co-pilot. "Weiss, watch our six!"
"Covering!"
"You," I look at the pilot. "Help me bring your buddy out."
"Gladly!" We both rush to the co-pilot's seat. "What should I do?"
"It will hurt, but I need you to push him away from his seat." I calmly say before slinging my Lasrifle, putting a hand on my Yoroi-doshi.
"Sorry pal, desperate times call for desperate measures!" The pilot says briefly, and before his co-pilot can offer any sort of protest, pulls him away from the chair he's pinned to.
The co-pilot let out a guttural, albeit muffled scream in a show of adrenaline-infused willpower. Thanks to the cooperativeness of the pair, I can now see that the steel rod did not just puncture through the entire length of the Vulture's dashboard before impaling the co-pilot, but it also went beyond, damn near to where the pilot station is. In other words, if his luck were bad, the pilot himself could have been made shish-kebab just like his pal right here. Fortunately for all of us, the worst-case scenario didn't happen.
After my split-second marveling, I pull on my Abyss Totem Stigmata for power. Then, I stealthily infused extreme heat for my Yoroi-doshi.
"Both of you, close your eyes." I unsheath my Tanto, which I normally use for stabbing. "And do not move!"
Right after I finish my warning, I swing my Yoroi-doshi into the cockpit in an upward slash, and the superheated blade smoothly slices through the steel rod in front of the co-pilot. In a manner that a human eye can barely track, I then bring my blade down on the part of the steel rod behind the trapped man. Like before, metal meets metal, with one being cut away by a combination of sharpness and extreme heat. By the time everyone registers the two sounds of slashing metal, I already sheathed my Yoroi-doshi, and the co-pilot is groaning in pain now that he is not nailed to one place.
Ah... My poor Tanto isn't built for this. I can already feel the blade cracking by the second strike, ah~!
Me bemoan my Yoroi-doshi aside, the co-pilot is now mobile, at least. There's no time to remove the remainder of the rod still in his stomach, unfortunately.
"Help the man out! We'll deal with that nail when we're inside the Valkyrie!" I say, before taking my Lasrifle once more to provide additional covering fire for the two airmen. "Blake! I need that extraction, now! Weiss, get ready to move!"
"Hold onto your hats, people!"
"Understood, Ein!"
Blake and Weiss answer my call, with the latter running up to my side before tossing a couple of smoke grenades down the avenue I was engaging the heretics.
"Good call!" I compliment my dear Rookie. The direction of the winds is favorable to us and will push the smoke directly onto the enemy's path.
"Thanks! You guys need help?" Weiss replies before looking at the airmen.
"We're good, ladies!" The injured co-pilot says with a forced thumbs-up.
We both nod as the pair as we escort them to the now landing Roughneck 1-1. I can see Blake looking at us worryingly before swinging the rear of her Valkyrie in our direction, its rear ramp lowering to welcome us aboard. It's a short, yet dangerous walk when multiple heretics come flanking us from the buildings. Weiss and I act fast, with each of us taking a side, moving, fighting, covering. They come from the roofs, the windows, the alleyways. They force even the pair of airmen to walk and fight alongside us in each and every painful step. We don't even have an opportunity to say anything, as every breath we waste will be one less breath we can use to kill or walk the necessary steps. We must kill, and kill, and kill even faster as a momentary delay can result in a hail of bullets or a las shot to hit us or the airmen.
CLICKCLICK
When Weiss trains her Lasrifle on a cultist and pulls the trigger, only to find it emptied of power, she fears the worst when the burly heretic points a Heavy Stubber in their direction. Yet, even before she thinks about abandoning the airmen and rushing me into a cover, two visible laser beams have struck the gun-toting heretic, one exploding his chest while another vaporizing his head. From the corner of her eyes, Weiss can see me with my left hand extended, and that I have a smoking Laspistol trained on where the dangerous cultist was. No words are exchanged, but I know that Weiss is thankful for the clutch assist. With no time to reload, my dear Rookie pulls out her own sidearm and continues on with the engagement. I, for one, start duel-wielding like a certain war veteran. Ironically, I have to take a precision shot with the Laspistol I have in my left hand, while my Lasrifle is held by my hip on my right hand. I can't exactly aim a full-length Lasrifle one-handed and moving, after all. So it's relegated to close-range, burst firing.
Still, it's a miracle that, even when the heretics managed to get a shot off in our direction, they missed. However, it's clear to us all that we're pushing our luck by the second. Thankfully, Phoenix 1-1 swoops down to save the day, thus keeping us from ever seeing the worst-case scenario. The Vulture's Multi-Lasers bark a constant stream of laser beams as it hovers and slowly turns clockwise, vanquishing any heretic it sees on Auspex.
"Keep your feet mobile, soldiers!" Shout the pilot of Phoenix 1-1.
Thanks to his top cover, we managed to dash the rest of the way without having to spend time engaging the cultists. When we step onto the ramp of Blake's VTOL, which has clearly seen better days, our good pilot asks.
"We good to go!?" Even before we're fully seated, Blake already revs the engines.
"We're good!" Weiss reports through Vox.
"We have a lift off!" Blake announces that the Valkyrie is rushed airborne while the ramp is still in the middle of closing. "This is Roughneck 1-1, package secured. Exfiltrating West."
"Roughneck 1-1, Roughneck 1-2, I'm on your 9 o'clock."
"This is Phoenix 1-1, taking up position at your 3 o'clock."
As we lay the injured co-pilot down onto the floor so that I can work my first aid with the help of Weiss and the pilot of Phoenix 1-2, we all see the two VTOLs that aid in our daring, quite possibly suicidal rescue operation, taking up formation near us.
This is the moment when we see more aircraft, either flying past us to battlezone unknown or joining up in escort formation around Blake's VTOL. Unlike the hostile aircraft that created the whole mess, these are Aeronautica Imperialis' Lightnings, painted in green with red and white liveries.
"Roughneck 1-1, this is Lieutenant Colonel Krill of the 709th Tactical Fighter Squadron, otherwise known as Axis Squadron." The leading Lightning fighter jet's pilot gives us a lookover and a salute. "We heard the reports and are tasked with protecting your extraction. To the Imperial Guards aboard, for risking your lives to save one of our own, you have our utmost respect. Allow us to escort you all back safely. From here on out, you can address me as Axis 1-1 or by my callsign, Shotgun."
"Axis 1-1, this is Rougneck 1-1, we appreciate the escort, Colonel." I can hear Blake say. "However, the unit that rescued your airmen, Frogger 3, is now treating one of them."
"And we are trying to stabilize him, but he's lost a lot of blood." I interject. "We need to get him to a field hospital, and fast.
"High Command has set up shop where LZ Zulu is. The bulk of the JTF's medical staff is there, so that will be your best bet." The Aeronautica Imperialis Colonel advises.
"Then LZ Zule is where we'll be heading." I say. "The man is fading already, so we'll need to gun it.
"Focus on flying and keeping the man alive." Shotgun adds. "I will make a priority Vox to LZ Zulu and clear the path for you. Ain't no way we will lose a guy after all the trouble you all have gone through."
Those in the rear compartment of Blake's VTOL, including me, breathe a sigh of relief. I look at the critically injured co-pilot, whom I am preventing from reaching the Golden Throne, and say. "You hear that, pal? You'll be in good hands real soon."
To this act of comfort, the injured airman weakly raises another thumbs-up.
I allow myself to rest my butt on the metal flooring of the Valkyrie, and Weiss soon sits near me. My dear Rookie then comment.
"What a run that was, huh?"
I chuckle wryly, my brain running back and forth to review what've done so far. "And that, among many things, occurred in a span of less than half a day. That wasn't just a run, it's a marathon already!"
Weiss sighs, leaning her head backward. "Ugh, and there are many, many more missions to do on this Installation."
"For what it's worth, at least we won't have to be deployed so soon after this whole mess." I grin before saying wistfully. "More than that, I need a recaf, stat."
"... I think all of us are, at this point." Weiss adds just before Blake announces that we've entered friendly airspace.
Finally, we've reached some place where we won't get shot at every thirty seconds.