Foreboding black towers of smoke billow forth from the planets surface interfusing with its overcast sky, blocking all but a few strands of slithering light from the triple suns. Brugh VI, a key energy/fuel production facility for at least one third of the Empire now feels the wrath of war tearing at its throat. The spear tip of the Renegade Rabbit forces now thrusts it way across Brugh VI's landscape in an imperative attempt to acquire the badly needed resources of the rich planet. Every last Renegade warship in existence fought through Imperial blockades to reach this destination, now the survivors stand poised to defend against Imperial reinforcements that might enter the star system while the ground forces secure the planetary command station.
Pinned down by a sniper hidden in an abandoned skyscraper, the remains of 3rd squad, 2nd platoon, Bravo company, 1st Battalion (Hareborne), 54th Rabbit Recon Regiment, screen themselves behind the ragged remnants of a mass transit station wall. Most of the metro areas were destroyed by the orbital bombardment from the starships, this place is no exception. Shattered chunks of concrete scatter the streets and plasteel supports protrude from structures like mangled limbs. Fire gutted this city 72 hours ago and burned it colder than deep space. Only the two largest buildings still smolder, spitting their last breaths skyward in wispy black columns.
"MEDIC!!! Oh Frith, it burns! Help me!"
"Dammit , Kyleer's been hit! We gotta go get them out of the open like that, Sarge! They'll die!"
"Don't you think I know that, Mitchell!" burst the sergeant. Sweat pours off his soot stained face, forming beads at the tips of his whiskers. His voice strains with a feeling of helplessness. "That sniper is just waiting for another one of us to break cover and go out there! Can anybunny get a look at them?"
Pvt. Taiki steals a peek around the edge of the wall, "I can see both of 'em, Sarge," whimpers the comtech, "They're at the edge of the intersection, straight ahead. I can't see the sniper, but Kyleer got it through both legs, she's movin' a little. Sebesta's hit four or five times. I think he's dead. Cripes! Sarge, we hafta help 'em!"
"Alright, Marines, I want some discipline, here." snarls the sergeant, "You all need to get control before we can do anything for them! Taiki, get me air support command on the horn, now!"
Private Kyleer barely sees the street curb she crawls for. Blood loss clouds her vision and makes the whole city spin violently. Fire pulses and flows through every nerve. She knows the medic can't come, but she mutters for him with every fleeting breath. Refuge lay waiting half a meter away, behind the wreckage on the sidewalk. Her rifle lay beside her, slaughtered by the sniper's bullet. Sebesta lay near her. Gone. Kyleer digs her blood soaked hand into the roadtop inching closer to safety. Her tail twitches convulsively with each surge of pain. A vicious force rips through her shoulder. Her screams muffle the crack of the snipers' shot draining what strength she has left, darkness enshrouds the cloudy sanctuary before her.
"She's hit again!" cries Taiki.
"Where the hell is it coming from?" screams PFC Alton.
Out of frustration, Alton launches a grenade from his rifle towards the highrise structure ahead of him, the high explosive charge splatters against the gutted building in a sharp rumble of an explosion. In a frenzy, the rest of the squad follows, letting fly a hail of caseless 10mm AP rounds that stab at the abandoned building blindly, hoping to find the soft spot in this dragons' belly.
"HOLD YOUR FIRE, DAMMIT!" shouts the sergeant to no avail. Crawling over to Mitchell, he kicks the corporal stiffly in the ribs, jolting his attention to the sergeants orders. "I want everybunny down and eyes covered, the 'Guardian Angels' are here!"
The insignificant growl of gunfire, soon yields to the roar of the plasma drives housed inside the two "Guardian Angels." Hovering twenty feet in the air, they slowly pass over the soldiers blowing up a duststorm that batters their body armor with debris. The 'Angels wing design arches upwards slightly to support the cluster of air-to-surface missiles at each wingtip. The six-barreled anti-armor gun nestled in the nose of each 'Angel whirs to life, ready to aerate its targets.
"Hazel 2, this is Hazel leader. Swing around the south side of the structure, I have infrared lock on single, humanoid target now in a stairwell heading down. Fire on my command."
"Copy, Hazel leader, I am in position at the south wall. I have target locked."
The infrared image pauses only for a moment, long enough to draw a bead on the cockpit of Hazel 2.
Sparks fill the cabin of the 'Angel as the high velocity round smashes through the transparent aluminum canopy and continues through the navi-computer system. Hazel 2's reflex sends the 'Angel careening hard to starboard. Whipping its tail around to reposition, the rear stabilizer skates by a three story pile of rubble.
"Shit, shit, shit!! Hazel leader, I'm tagged, but not bad. Reacquiring target, now."
"Negative, Hazel 2, find a place to land and help that squad with their wounded. I've got this bastard." Hazel leader squeezed the trigger at the same moment increasing forward thrust so as to hold his position. The 'Angel's main gun, for an instant, blazes with effective fury. With the wall now gone, a clearer infrared image shows many small pieces of heat scattered throughout the stairwell. Hazel leader smiles behind his oxygen mask, "Toast."
Taiki's voice crackles onto the headset in Hazel 2's helmet, "This is red-one-six-Anchorage, we need an immediate medi-vac down here."
"On my way, one-six, be there in thirty seconds."
The recon team darts for their fallen companions. Mitchell is the first to reach Kyleer and drags her across the pavement stopping behind the shell of what was a car. Trigger's massive form bounds past the puddles of Kyleer's life force pooling on the black pavement. He stops where Sebesta had been walking point and kneels beside his dead comrade, tears trickle past the shock within his eyes and flow down his furry cheeks.
"Taiki, Alton, Berrena, position yourselves in a crescent along that storefront," the sergeant gestures to the area ahead of them. He turns, calling to Mitchell, "How's Sebesta and Kyleer?"
"Not good," he snaps and swears under his breath. The medic's hands race from the med-pak to Kyleers' legs and shoulder desperately trying to staunch the dark fluid spilling from the dying Marine. The first shot had impacted her hip, exited just above her kneecap and continued through her other knee, stopping inside her calf. "Trigger, get over here, I need your help!" calls the medic.
Blessed with a build forged like a linebacker for the Seattle Spacehawks, the nineteen year old machine-gunner effortlessly, tenderly, cradles the body of Sebesta, his twin brother, within his rugged arms and drifts insensibly towards the now blood soaked medic.
"Trigger, you have to lay him down and help Kyleer now," orders Mitchell. He sees the pain seethe in the twins eyes. The medics expression softens, whiskers relax, "Your brother is safe now, believe in that." Trigger bows his head over his brothers face, his long ears droop back. "Look at me Trigger!" Mitchells words carry a sobering force, diverting Triggers grieving, if only for the moment.
The 'Angel alights from the darkening sky with the grace of a dove fifty yards away in a ravaged parking lot. Slowly the thunderous engines begin to whine down as Trigger dashes for the ship. Mitchell smears his blood stained hands across his fatigues and prays that she hangs on.
"I did everything this field kit could accomplish and then some, Sarge, now it's up to her, until she gets on board the medical frigate." Trigger disappears aboard the 'Angel momentarily and emerges with a litter under each bicep, for his brother and Kyleer.
"Sarge, we're all clear at this end. No signs of any more of them," Berrena reports from inside the barren storefront.
Sarge huddles beside a scorched fire hydrant scanning the city map on his hand held computer, "Frack! This is the Lieutenant's job, I shouldn't have to decipher this stuff." But the Lt. tripped a mine on the way into the city, died instantly, leaving a battle weary sergeant in charge. "Okay, according to this we're almost there." Sarge lets out a quick, low whistle that pulls everyones eyes to him. "Let's get Kyleer and Sebesta loaded up. Mitchell, I want you to stay with her."
"I planned on it, Sarge." puffed the Medic at the same time lifting Kyleer in the litter and heading for the 'Angel.
Hazel leader, meanwhile, circled the squad several times and reported a secure area. With Hazel 2's hatchway sealed shut, the war machine lifts off. Trigger turns back, facing his team. The wind and dust whip his black patched fur but does little to obscure the anguish that blisters his heart. He watches the 'Angel carry his twin brother into the clouds.
"Alright, Marines, we still have an objective. Berrena, you're on point. Five-meter spread. Let's move." Sarge lets free an immense sigh of discontent, "This can't get any worse," he halfheartedly reassures.
Feeling sapped of every last drop of motivation, Trigger turns to face his team, "What...what am I gonna d-do now?" he sputters, choking on the surge of emotions from within. "I am completely... alone... in the universe. The Empire has tried to take everything from me... everyone I ever loved... and now they've won."
