Log:New Republic: Crossing the Valley

Crossing the Valley

OOC Date: May 6, 2021
Location: Corellia
Participants: Ambrosia Greystorm(GM) as Sgt Sketch Hardcastle and Lt Faraya Quish, Wrrlryyhn, Chani Tahn, Qutha Buvu Pah, B'haav Adasta as Pvt Jien Ku'Farper, Lahni as Cpl Mikka Lightstrider, New Republic

The Denendre Valley is a low dip in the riverlands - a typically green and fertile oasis when not ravaged by flash floods or machines of war. It is flanked by Thaos - the Nomad Mountains, home to Doaba Guerfel - to the West, the Vella Plains to the North, Bindreg Hills to the East and various patches of marsh to the south where the many tributaries funnel into the Auric River. It is a large swathe of land but easily traversed, for the most part, that stretches between the Republic’s foothold in Bindreg Hill/Rhaler Bastion and their currently sought target for acquisition:

A bunker within the Nomad, coordinates 31.26N 98.57W.

Recon scouts reported minimal flyover activity in the area and very little in the way of congregating First Order forces - the occasional patrol likely searching for signs of Republic activity. Scans produced a suspiciously vibrant heat signature at the above mentioned coordinates, though, leading Command to believe there was something hidden there.

A small team was inserted with a stealth drop elsewhere in the range to approach with caution and shed a little light on the situation. Their report confirmed what the scanners had picked up, having spied defensive battery systems and uniforms officers milling about the area. An intelligence outpost, perhaps?

Razorcat Platoon has embarked on a mission to find out. Acquisition was the first step, securing the second. But before either of those can occur, they’ve got to make it to their destination in a big enough piece to complete the job. The Tank Squad is assisting with this endeavor, penetrating the distance with an arrow-like formation. One S-1 Firehawke Repulsortank leads the charge, flanked by two Rebel ULAVs. Behind and between then, a pair of A-A5 speeder trucks are ferrying a few dozen troopers. The side doors of the trucks are ajar, turning them into armed vehicles, courtesy of the cluster of blaster rifles aimed at the ready there.

Sgt Hardcastle is driving the S-1, Cpl Hongu manning the rear turret. Pvt Ku’Farper is their resident fix-it, ‘supervised’ by Cpl Lighstrider, who’s also manning the fixed guns. Capable of housing 5 crew comfortably, the Firehawke is by far the most spacious of the tanks escorting the troopers along.

<<Hardcastle to Razorcat, scans showing clear terrain ahead, next 2 klicks. 7 klicks and closing to drop point.>>

<<Copy, Sgt,>> Lt Quish replies via helmeted comm in one of the A-A5s. She’s the one who’ll be leading the charge through the trickery bit of climb, once the vehicles deliver them there. Sgt Hardcastle’s report is not reassuring, really, as the situation could easily change in the blink of an eye. She watches the scenic scape whipping by with a hardened look of skepticism.

Aboard one of the A-A5 speeder trucks, Chani Tahn sits in one of the bucket seats while it jostles over uneven terrain with its repulsorlifts. They're tuned so low to the ground that it's an unavoidable circumstance, but any higher would make them better targets, and the last thing anyone wants to make a target is the troop transports. Wind from the open side doors causes the hem of her brown robe to whip around the leather boots on her feet. The loose cream tunic and trousers ripple from the aggressive breeze passing in through the open cabin. Eyes squinted against the force of it, Chani prevents her gaze from being further diminished by keeping her dark hair slicked back and bound into a subtly messy bun. She wears no protective armor of any sort and carries no distinguishable weapon on her person, but the troopers know she is far from defenseless. For now, she plays a waiting game. She is not trained in the use of their blaster weapons. Ironically enough, the woman that rides with them is a pacifist. The Naboo often are.

Quietly seated, hands folded in his lap and watching the others whom he is keeping out of the way of, Qutha's attention moves to one of his fellows; offering Chani a small nod before he leans some to comment

"This is my first deployment with a military of any kind." ducking his head at the expected looks, groans, or other motions and sounds of annoyance, derision, or the like from the troopers around, "How about you?" likely a dumb question from him, but then the zelosian has often tried to avoid violent interactions.

If only for a personal dislike for a scuffle.

"I suppose more than I." nerves? Possibly. Probably. He sits back a little, deep breaths and long exhales.

It's been weeks since Montu Codru, and Private Jien Ku'Farper is on her first mission affield since what happened there. It wasn't a failing of skill as much as the unfortunate instinct of self-preservation - an instinct most are generally born with - that caused the mishap as they fled with the precious cargo from that drop site, but she had not piloted any vehicle outside of parking to maintenance pool to parking again.

Today was, fortunately, no exception. She sits, hands resting on her toolkits, all arranged about her and ready for anything; behind her, Corporal Hongu, and ahead, Sergeant Hardcastle thankfully has taken the driving duties so she can simply do what she was born to do: keep everything working. The Dressellian sits comfortably enough, even though inside her mind, she wishes for the sound of a thunderstorm to soothe the nerves that tell her she should not have left the base.

A note of displeasure comes from the cab of the Firehawke. Sgt Hardcastle has seen a blip of something cross his radar. It's out there, at the fringes, blinking in and out of existence. Moments later, that single something splits and become two somethings.

Uh oh.

<<Hardcastle to Razorcat>> The Sgt opens channels to all the vehicles present. <<We've got two - scratch - /three/ anomalies ahead, distance 3k and closing. 1, 12, 2 o'clock.>>

<<Well they aren't one of ours>> Lt Quish replies, expression souring. She's seconds away from calling in an air sweep, probably. "Corellian Rangers, perhaps?" Hah. Wishful thinking but y'know. Maybe. To the troops present in her truck, she hollers "HEADS UP! Unidentified objects on the move for collision course, 3k and closing. Be prepared to receive and return fire. Standby for further instruction!" And then she's toggling her comm to Azure Squadron's frequency to fill them in on the evolving situation. They've been standing by, afterall, awaiting the call.

As indicated by the Firehawke's sensors, three objects are on the move to intercept. A pair of LAVs and an armored speeder truck. They move with a seemingly confident speed and trajectory for such a small contingent.

Catching Qutha's nod in her direction, Chani offers a subtle one of her own. She leans in as he does, lest his words get defeated by the cacophony that is the hollow noise sounding on the inside of the speeder truck. Once he's spoken into her ear, she turns her chin towards him to fix him with that squinted gaze. "Have you already forgotten Munto Codru? Escorting the Codru-Ji through the city and towards their sanctuary with a group of Republic troopers?" The second question is provided for context for the first. Chani recalls it as much as she recalls the Zelosian being injured and their discussion later that evening at the outpost where he was recovering. "I've.. been out a few times with the New Republic." She tries to recall them all in the moment. Outpost Besh's fighting. The jaunt through the city. The recent trip to Rier'let Mountain. The mission to clear out the old rebel base that they're currently using for their operations center. If there are more, they don't immediately come to mind. Despite her pacifistic ways, Chani sees an important duty in helping. She's here to defend others, not kill the enemy. She finds it abhorrent even if she also often finds herself surrounded by it at times.

She might have asked something else if the Lieutenant in their speeder truck didn't call out to warn that unidentified objects were heading their way. A collision course, Chani has come to learn, typically means an interception course, which means someone is heading for them. Whether or not its friendly clearly has yet to be determined.

"I mean. I don't know if I was much more than another civilian in that, during that escort Chani. I was just a nursemaid." nursemaid, keeping children behind cover, while the other jedi and the Republic forces did the heavy lifting. Catching the voice alerting of incoming, forehead creasing and eyes closing and more breaths being drawn slowly, Qutha sighs - it's never a quiet ride.

"I meant this as a true deployment for me... but I see your point too." maybe trying to find a little balance by talking as if things aren't to go to hell in a wicker basket. Hand coming to rest on the stun saber he has clipped there and rolling his shoulders in a vain attempt to try and loosen his tension.

Private Ku'farper's sits straighter at attention at the Sergeant's call-out, glancing forward to visually verify what had already been reported. She taps at some screens of her own, readying diagnostic routines and checking current systems. "Sergeant, all read-outs presently optimal. Hull is five-nine, drive is solid, power is full and steady. As per specs, everything is by the manual. If you need something beyond regulation, I can juice it up. But I'll need a direct order for it." Directing more power into the systems than the manual lists as optimal is a severe offense and not to be taken lightly. Having said her piece, she braces, waiting for something that she hopes doesn't come: a need of her services.

Sitting at the fixed mount, Corporal Mikka Lightstrider's gaze flicks towards the readouts that show the approaching vehicles - a look of wary expectation slowly being replaced by an expectant smile. The waiting, the uncertainty, not knowing - that's always the worst part of any deployment. When trouble actually starts, and you get that jolt of adrenaline? That's much easier to bear. For her, anyways. "Copy, Sarge," she states simply. "Ready and waiting." Since they aren't close enough to open fire yet - she spares a moment to glance towards Private Ku'farper. She knew she'd been nervous about going on this mission - hopefully the Private can keep it together. So far so good, she decides, as she turns her attention back to the task at hand - fingers hovering over the controls.

A Wookiee, in her hodge podge of reworked trooper armor and recently added war trophies sits quietly in one of the speeder trucks as well. Though she wears her translation droid on her syren fibre woven belt, she makes no conversation. Instead, she checks over ammo, the weapons she bristles with, and her med-pac. Yes, worn among her many weapons including a bow caster and Ryyk blade, is a med-pac. She listens to the flurry of voices over comms, but instead of commenting studies the faces of the troopers she rides with.

"Good to hear, Ku'Farper. Well, with any luck, these turn out to be Lyle's crew and we won't need..." Hardcastle quiets as something else catches his attention and stirs up more than an inkling of supsicion that no, they aren't friendly. It's made irrefutably clear when a thin whine builds slowly up from the ambient static of rushing wind and clattering gear. It's a whine that builds gratingly in volume and a couple specks drop out of the cloud cover above. The specks are on approach from a similar angle as the unidentified ground vehicles, 3 o'clock, and are very soon identifiable as TIE craft. The Defender series, to be precise.

A welcoming barrage of straffing drums across the Republic's path when the TIE cut by overhead, shrieks morphing into defeaning roars in their wake. Great plumes of loamy soil errupt and shower a blinding veil of grit. over the invading craft.

Sgt Hardcastle swears. Loudly. <<LIEUTENANT>> except she's already on it.

<<Hailing air support, eta...>> she listens for a moment <<89 seconds.>>

Can they survive that long? <<2k, steady course>> The Firehawke's Sgt reports about those 3 questionable vehicles moving to intercept. Then, <<Altering course, 2 degrees northwest>> and an aside to his fore gunner "Corporal, get ready to spit fire when we cross that line."" And a louder call to the back which echoes through the repulsortank's intercom "Cpl Hongu, lay down a little suppressive something."

It isn't worth much yet, but the heavy laser turret spouts off an arc of warning fire at the too-fast buzzards buzzing around overhead.

"1.7k out," Lt Quish warns. Already, the two ULAVs are fanning out from the Repulsortank, a truck being shepherded by each.

If the door to the cabin wasn't open, Chani's not sure she'd hear it. As it is, she struggles to do so anyway. Still, the distinct whine of Sienar ion engines is something she'll recognize anywhere. Too often she'd heard the noise overhead on her homeworld. Yanking her gaze towards the door, she suppresses the urge to stand up. There's nothing she can do against such large craft, and it's doubtful she would be able to even attempt deflection of a laser cannon's blaster bolt. The kinetic energy would probably kill her. Clenching her teeth together hard enough for her jaw to set, Chani does the only thing she can do: she remains seated. The gunners will have to try to fend off the incoming enemy craft. She murmurs a quiet prayer to Shiraya that the called for air support will arrive in time.

When the distinctive scream of TIE engines come, Qutha's eyes are up and his body is moving down, "Bother." swallowing hard and watching the others as much as he can as he hunkers again at the laser fire from the fighter's cannons follows. "Bother and blow..." following Chani's example and keeping in his place, the Zelosian's hood is shrugged back and off of his head fully now while he watches ahead.

"Well..." grabbing a hold stanchion, "Should be a bit too much in the form of excitement yes?" trying for humor, desperately so. That kernel fear there despite himself. Focusing, or trying to, being mindful of what the Force whispers to him in one fashion or another on this, his latest great idea. No one asked him out here. Volunteer work!

Ku'farper hears the whine growing, like charge building up in a circuit right before it primes for discharge, only growing to a volume that grates ears and nerves at the same time. She does not have the time to hear individual shots fired though as the S-1 Firehawke goes through one of those plumes, and an indicator on her systems station begins to flash red. "Sergeant, something's with comms, give me a moment!" The private is up and across the cabin in only a moment, the comms array being annoyingly not-right-beside systems. But then, for now that is best or she may have lost more than a relay. With a quick flick of some panels, she exposes the relay, fortunately finding that the housing had been knocked askew, pressuring and nearly severing the antennae's signal and crippling the comms. It's a quick job to straighten it, resecure it, and add a few more bolts for extra security - bolts she'd later replace with some sort of dampener when they're not under fire.

"Should be good, it was just undue tension on the antennae relay. Maybe dodge the next one, sir?" She replaces her tools, holding tight for the next turn or a glare from her superior for the somewhat unhelpful suggestion.

"Absolutely, Sarge," Corporal Lightstrider answers - flashing in a smile, before returning her attention to her screens. "Ready on your mark." There's no point to worrying about the TIEs - there's nothing she can do about it. Either the air support arrives in time, or it doesn't. It's out of her hands. "Oh, we're supposed to dodge them, are we?" she calls back, and focuses her attention on what she can do - using the control yoke of her turret, to start training in on the closest of the three approaching vechiles, waiting for the distance to close as her finger hovers over the button to fire. Almost there... almost...

Wrr studies the faces of the troopers riding along with her. Even for the Wookiee, she can read the ranging expressions from fear, excitement, and reserve on the faces of varied Species around her. As the whine grows over head to deafening volume, the Wookiee remains stoic. No one wants to see a Wookiee panic. Especially when closed in with one. She readies herself for the jolt of impact, but so far, in hasn't come. The Wookiee remains calm, though she does rumble in what she hopes comes across as soothing, to her fellow passengers.

"FIRE!" Sgt Hardcastle barks the order the moment his targeting computer informs them that they've come within range. Immediately, the Firehawke and ULAVs cut loose an opening spray of fire at the opposition. Said opposition returns some volleys in kind, maintaining a steady and unyielding course in attempts to bar the Razorcats' access to the looming foothills just ahead. The two Rebel ULAVs spread apart from one another, followed closely by the A-A5s each one shepherds.

It's a tactic that dooms one pair while saving the whole. The TIEs are ripping by on a second pass, plowing up more turf as they go. The little assault vehicle hanging back and to the right of the Firehawke gets hammered. Just utterly wiped off the valley floor. One moment it was laying down a round of fire, the next it was a tumbling, raging BALL of fire. The truck it was tasked with protecting veers violently away, as shrapnel and intense waves of heat blast into the exposed side of the armored truck, endangering the lives of those riflemen posed in the doorway.

Lt Quish is in that truck. She screams - a sound of rage and pain as her armor's thermal-protective bodysuit is pushed to its limit and then some. One of the troopers is dead before they knew it, a large sliver of hull piercing through their chest, and two others are in excruciating pain from the burns.

It is brutal.

<<Razorcats, this is Azure leader>> A voice crackles through comms from somewhere on high, yet unseen. <<Closing in on your position now. We'll get these buzzards off your backs.>>

Simultaneously, the TIE Defenders are veering away, gaining in altitude as they, too, have noticed the inbound air support and move to engage.

The tense situation leading up to this point has encouraged Chani to keep her jaw clenched out of anxiety. It's difficult to remain calm when she feels so helpless. Especially as people die around her. It's for that reason that when their truck violently veers off to the side, she doesn't bite her tongue. She still yanks hard against the restraints. The octagonal metal in the center of her chest is pressed so hard into it that she thinks it'll bruise later, but the straps keep her from flying out of her seat. They also squeeze the air out of her painfully. It's better than getting thrown from the truck, though. It's better than winding up bouncing off the walls of the interior. Only once the inertia has stopped can she suck in a painful breath.

"OH! Oh well! Now I remember Codru! More mobile, but yes - all coming back to me now!" thudded around in his seat, straps biting into his body through the robes. Arms and legs flapping a moment before he gets them tucked back in and his hands on the grips. Then it's a matter of shutting himself up while the wild ride continues.

"I suppose it might pay to learn how to use one of those turrets sometime." ok so he can't shut his mouth long. Nervous chit-chat? At least he hasn't looked to the trooper to his right and,

"Fun times?"

Nevermind.

Private Ku'farper is holding tight as the weapons begin to fire, hearing the next run of the TIEs already inbound. The strike that follows does not, fortunately, shake the Firehawke from its course, but one of the ULAVs is the opposite amount of lucky. The blast, and the ensuing explosion threaten to take Jien straight back to that day on Montu Codru, but she's had enough time, enough training and counseling to stick with the moment. She taps on the screens to see if there is anything that she can do. But In the self-contained world of the S-1 Firehawke, everything is fine, even as explosions echo through the interior. Her grip tightens on a wrench, suddenly and foolishly wishing for something to fix, to keep her mind busy.

A low, quiet string of Huttese emits from Corporal Lightstider's lips - the sort of language that would make her mother's ears burn, bless the woman. Whether it's due to the fate of the nearby assault vehicle turned fireball - or the way the bolts she fires burn into the earth just shy of her target, it's hard to tell. Focus, Mikka. Get the job done - keep breathing. Just focus.

"Getting our money's worth - huh Private?" she remarks - as she tries to hone in on the approaching threats.

The Wookiee hands on to her harness as the truck maneuvers suddenly. Long, willowy, limbs are jostled about as the truck veers and careens. The piercing cries of the wounded give the medic no time to consider her own bruises however. Gracelessly, she unbuckles herself from safety straps, and begins a fumbling journey through the truck, preforming visual triage as she goes. It's Lt. Quish's anguished cries that drew her, and she kneels to start pulling the woman from destroyed armor. She cradles her, and shields her bodily if need be, as she preforms her duties. "I'm Wrr. I'm a Medic. I'm here to help you." She warbles in what she hopes passes for gentle. Either way, her droid breaks it down into a monotone drone. [ Wrrlryyhn (Wrr)] Wasaka (21433) repeats after Wrrlryyhn, "I'm Wrr. I'm a Medic. I'm here to help you."

<<IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME!>> Hardcastle slams a fist into his own thigh when their friendly SFC squadron arrives to lend an assist. To the squadron's credit, they did make good time scrambling to get over here and the TIEs are more than occupied. A possibly stray sprinkling of laser cannons THWUP THWUP THWUP over the ground, almost swallowing one of te enemy ULAVs. The resulting pillar of debris forces it to veer wildly away and /that/ makes it a momentarily trickier target.

Corporal Hongu gripes aloud within in the confines of his turret pod, unable to hit the jerky vehicle.

<<1.5k out from destination drop zone. Troopers stand by>> Sgt Hardcastle puts out the word of warning to those who've been patiently riding this ride of terror.

Meanwhile, Lt Quish is willing to fight a Wookiee to keep hold of her armor. The helmet, at least. "I'm GOING TO NEED THIS" she hollers, engulfed in hairy arms of might. Denial is her middle name, at the moment, more angry than painful thanks to the adrenaline surge still coursing through her veins. A patch of skin on her neck is definitely in danger of sloughing off, insta-cooked, but the intensely raw feeling hasn't registered as more than a sunburn yet so she's rearing to GO!

The other ULAV and truck are snugging back near to the S-1 and it's the safety of that herd which the battered truck is struggling to keep pace with. They maneuver to the far side, putting some barrier between self and those now VERY near enemy vehicles. The side bay door of the FO truck opens to reveal a contingent of troopers waiting to be set free.

As the distance closes, the Republic platoon soldiers are becoming jittery with anticipation, able to now see their competition. Someone starts chanting and soon, both A-A5s are filled with the morale-boosting cadence. It does well to drown out the moans of the wounded and the rabid raving of their LT.

War is ugly. The inside of the truck smells like burnt meat. It makes Chani's stomach churn, but she doesn't vomit. There's nothing to throw up. It helps that her heart is pumping rapidly from the effects of adrenaline kicking in. She doesn't even try to meditate to calm herself. This is not a calm situation. She is not, however, reacting wildly. There is a lid on her emotions that refuses to be jostled free. She has a childhood brush with First Order tyranny to thank for that. She also thanks Shiraya for the intervention of the friendly starfighters that manage to chase off the TIEs that had destroyed some of their convoy. They have to be getting close to their objective now. Chani hopes they're able to endure the intercepting vehicles.

Jien Ku'Farper stays battened down as the S-1 continues to avoid enemy fire. She taps at the systems station, cycling through the information from system after system, willing everything to stay utterly perfect, as she always made her goal when a vehicle entered her maintenance bay. Nothing. Thankfully, nothing. She looked out the viewscreen above her and saw the state of the unprotected A-A5, and another twinge of flashback crosses her nerves before she calls out to the Sergeant. "Sergeant, if you promise not to get the Firehawke too... Complicated for me, I was thinking maybe I should transfer to the A-A5 and keep them intact. On orders, of course. If you think you can drive steady enough?" Why she always gets slightly close to mouthy to her superiors, she'll never know. Maybe it's just that feeling she gets when they make her leave half of her tools behind.

Corporal Lightstrider does manage to hone in on one of the enemy vehicles - but her shots seem to splash uselessly against the armor, causing the girl to grit her teeth in frustration. Come on - //come on//! If she can't pick any of these things off, how are their troops going to get the job done?

Dimly through her sensors she can see the side of the First Order's truck slide open to reveal their troops - and she starts to readjust her aim. Take out their guys, before they take out your guys. That's how the game is played.

Wait. Is Ku'Farper planning on jumping between trucks?

//Focus//, Lightstrider!

Wrr chirrs softly at the raging soldier, unfazed, and unmoved by her vehement demands. She does, however let the woman keep on her helmet, so long as it doesn't interfere with her ministrations. Getting the Lt back on her feet was at the moment her primary objective. She got out her scanner and applied a numbing agent with hypo spray. "You can have your armor back as soon as I'm done." She assured with a velvety rumble. Wasaka turns it into mechanically droned Galactic basic. [ Wrrlryyhn (Wrr)] Wasaka (21433) repeats after Wrrlryyhn, "You can have your armor back as soon as I'm done."

"What!? Ku'Farper, are you--" Yeah. Yeah, she is crazy. Hardcastle doesn't even finish the question/accusation. "SIT DOWN!" He orders and tries not to die as the increasingly close range shootout between his tanks and theirs gets more heated. <<Half k, prepare to disembark>> comm'd to the trucks, then another hard look at Jien. "Listen, second we slow to provide cover fire for the offloaders, I'll give you /ten/ to scramble off this rig and into theirs. You best move like the wind, cause I don't like bein a sittin quadduck."

Ku'Farper's job is to fix what's broken. He can't deny her that. It's just about the /timing/.

The FO ULAV that was flyin off course gets back on track /just/ in time to fall prey to an angry lance of red from the sky. It was one of many driven up the tail of the perceived threat harassing their Razorcat buddies. Additional casualties are had when their accompanying truck'o'troopers swerves dangerously to avoid the worst of that blast and takes some heat. The shouts of their wounded can easily be imagined.

Lt Quish has ceased resisting Wrrl's ministrations, but she does not look keen to remain still for long and continues to bark orders from where she's been tucked away. "After disembarking, form a double line! We're going to /run/ up that hill and disappear soon as possible. Left line run, right line dispatch suppressive fire. Then Right line runs, left line holds. Team A, Team B, Team A, Team B till we've got substantial cover and can pick however many of these bucketheads are seeking our shadows. Only when we've cleared our six will be pursue the target, understood? In the event of hell rainin down, we need a clear zone to fallback to!" Her voice has acquired a hoarse quality to it already. Maybe she's starting to feel the hurt.

And so the final fractions of a kilometer are crossed. On cue, both trucks begin to empty their passengers. Likewise, the wounded FO Trast is spilling their own pool of survivors onto ground.

There may be a break in the chaos as scenery suddenly stands still, but it won't last.

Chani doesn't throw the restraints off. They collapse at the twisting of the octagonal metal core that keeps the buckles together and she rises after. The straps slip from her shoulders and the brown robe spills about her in the process. There's no hold up from her. She files out with the troopers at a brisk pace, ensuring that the ones behind her are not caught up in the cabin of the truck any longer than is absolutely necessary. It would have been nice to reach their objective without conflict, but as the surviving First Order vehicle begins to add their own boots on the ground, Chani knows there's still more to come. She hopes there will be less bloodshed. Maybe the Republic troopers will demand their surrender. After all, they still have a tank. In the end, however, she thinks not. And once they get where they're going, she thinks there'll be even more bloodshed besides. War, truly, is ugly.

'... I'll give you /ten/ to scramble off this rig and into theirs...'

It's the go-ahead. Of course, it was full of that gruff authority that made those under his direct command love him, but that was a green light from the Sergeant. Private Ku'Farper, the Dressellian mechanic currently at the systems station inside the S-1 Firehawke, meets his gaze and gives him a quick, certain nod. "I can get there in eight." But first she needs to prepare.

Jien takes quick stock of her tools, debating as rapidly as she can which belt to take. The box would have to stay behind, it was the only way she was going to cross the gap quickly and, thus, safely. Finally, she rapidly spills out several fine tools into the box and pulls a few odd clips and a tube of something to throw into one of the holsters. She does one blindingly-fast rotation through the status screens and, seeing everything still functional, looks ahead to Sergeant Hardcastle, even though he's far too busy to actually be making eye contact with her at present. "Sergeant Hardcastle, the comm relay has a few extra bolts, I don't expect anything short of a direct hit to botch them. If ANYthing starts beeping, I'll... I'll get back here, anyway I can." She pulls the slightly-larger helmet made for her Dressellian features tight down on her head and taps, turning the personal comm receiver on. Private Ku'Farper waits now, one hand on the catch to release her harness, and the other gripped on the fore ladder to leap for the hatch the moment she gets the order.

"Ha-HAAAA!" Corporal Lightstrider crows triumphantly - as she sees her bolts going into the enemy troop-carrier. //That'll// take care of 'em. Take care of the enemy, before they take care of you. Check, and double check. "I'll keep up some covering fire - keep their guys from pursuing ours?"

"Watch your six, Ku'Farper!" she calls without turning - still squeezing out bolts of death towards the enemy troops.

The Wookiee medic prepared several hypo sprays in addition to the dermal numbing agent. Included were but not limited to was a mild pain reliever and antibiotic, in addition to whatever Space Medicine Space Science had provided. She injected the woman mid command. Wrr then started handing back the removed armor. The thickening of voice was concerning, but not much she could do about it at present. "See a doctor as we are able. I will check in on you." Did that sound threatening, even broken down by Wasaka as it was? I mean, who really wanted a Wookiee haranguing you about healthcare needs, anyway? Once the Lt. was in order, the Wookiee filed out with the others as directed. [ Wrrlryyhn (Wrr)] Wasaka (21433) repeats after Wrrlryyhn, "See a doctor as we are able. I will check in on you."

"I'll be fine," lt Quish slaps the shaggy medic on the arm and reassembles herself with a stiff haste in time to bring up the rear with a trot. Barely.

"GO" Sgt Hardcastle urges, not just giving the greenlight, but beating it over the head with a baritone below. The Firehawke hovers there impatiently while Corporals Lighstrider and Hongu continue to duke it out with the remaining enemy ULAV.

It doesn't seem to make sense, this lopsided standoff, but Quish takes it to be a sign that what they've come for does indeed exist and might be harboring something worth dying to defend. Or rather, ordering people to defend at all costs.

It's a stall tactic. She'd put her next month's salary on it.

<<Ascending Nomad now,>> Lt Quish relays to their eyes in the sky who are pretty helpless to assist them beyond this point. Like many of the military installations on world, it is equipped with a shield, but that mightn’t stop them from trying.