FSE

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Alrighty, so like I said last time, this one sorta exploded, length wise. It was one of the strange moments when I started writing and couldn't find a good place to stop. So, there are at least two more of these before I'm done with this section of the story, but I'm not done with the rest just yet. Anyway... I hope you enjoy it.

As always, comments are appreciated and requested.

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Continued from 'Mercenaries and Corporate Entanglements...'

11-16-3015

Time Index; 0807 hours GST

Tare Pharmaceuticals Research Campus

Sython system, Merxian space

Tyr sat in the back of the hover car, trying to seem relaxed, even though every hair on the back of the coyote's neck was still standing on end, making the collar of his tight cut fatigues press against his neck. On his way out of the admin building, everything had seemed as normal as it had on the way in, but all the same, he felt himself settling into the alert frame of reference that experienced veterans of urban combat viewed the world. Security was pretty normal as far as a civilian firm went, though as he walked, he began to notice a few details he had missed. There seemed to be fewer civilians wandering the halls than he would have expected, especially considering that it was nearing the end of the normal working day on this part of Sython. Even more concerning was that the security checkpoints seemed to be manned more heavily than necessary, and every one of them had the look of soldiers, not ordinary security guards. Neither subject was of particular concern in themselves, but still, the feeling of wrongness that had started to come over him in Arn Soran's office was intensifying by the moment.

"Well Colonel," The young coyote woman driving the hover car said, turning and smiling radiantly at him, "This is your stop. Thank you for your visit to Tare Pharmaceuticals. Please come back any time."

"Thank you for the ride, miss." Tyr replied, returning her smile as he opened the door. Tyr's dropship had set down on the nearest landing pad only moments before and was hovering just above the deck, as if on a hot pickup in a combat zone. Giving a wave to the young woman as the car sped off, Tyr walked slowly to the dropship's door, trying not to alarm anyone who might be watching him. As he walked, the coyote looked around, keeping his pace even, the overall feeling of wrongness making him want to run. It was the same sort of eerie, unexplainable feeling one got when walking into an ambush. Somehow, and no one had as yet been able to explain how, even non-psychics got an overall feeling of something being off, typically just before the enemy opened fire. Then, half way to the dropship, the Ranger officer paused in his footsteps, his gaze focused on a low slung building across the landing field. It looked like a garage, exactly like those for the spaceport's maintenance vehicles and hardly out of place along the port's tarmac, but this one caught his eye out of all the others around it. Cocking his head a little, Tyr narrowed his gaze.

The building certainly looked normal enough to the untrained eye, but on the roof, there was a nest of sensor antennae that rivaled the ones on the spaceport's control tower. One of the maintenance bays was open and Tyr could just see the front section of an all-black vehicle sticking out from within it. Looking around the spaceport as if just taking in the sights, Tyr could see a number of maintenance vehicles scattered around the place, and all of them were either plain metal with Tare insignia or else painted a dull grey with fluorescent green strips outlining each section of their hulls for visibility. Starting to walk once more, Tyr picked up his pace ever so slightly, the side door to the troop compartment opening as he neared it. Major Tor'sek stood just inside the door in full armor, his customized light machine gun slung across his chest, fully loaded with a drum magazine. When Tyr stepped into the dropship, the Major nodded to him, sealing the hatch as his CO unlatched the lid of an equipment case mounted in the middle of the dropship's hold.

"Major, the garage across the tarmac." Tyr said, lifting the chest piece of his armor out of the case and slipping his head through it, feeling the armor shrink, adjusting itself to his body as he reached for the next piece. Tyr's huge XO looked out through one of the windows and nodded as the dropship lifted off the ground, the dozen marines of Tyr's field headquarters' security detail rocking in their places around the hold.

"Got it." The wolf said, nodding as Tyr quickly attached the forearm and bicep plates to the appropriate places, each piece shrinking to his form, spinning out nano-fibers that attached to the nearest pieces, and spread over his hands like form fitting gloves, transforming the armored suit from individual plates to a sealed suit rated for vacuum conditions. "What about it?"

"What does that vehicle in the open bay look like to you?" Tyr asked, strapping on the thigh, calf and curving articulated plates that went over his combat boots in turn.

"I can't be sure from this angle, but if I had to guess, I'd say it's the front end of a Turgoun assault carrier." Larn replied as the dropship starting lifting toward orbit. "Black Claws?"

"That is what I thought, too." Tyr answered, standing up and grabbing his helmet from the case. "Which means Tare definitely has something to hide, something that needs military grade protection. Is everything ready?"

"Yes sir." Larn replied, looking back at his CO with an easy grin. "1st and 3rdcompanies are standing by in low orbit. Say the word and they deploy where ever you like."

"Alright." Tyr stated, activating the intercom system. "Captain Lyr'en, circle at seven thousand meters."

"Yes sir." The pilot replied, and Tyr looked back at his XO.

"Signal the dropships to begin their landings," Tyr ordered. "We will secure the spaceport first, and then move in on the admin complex. Try and limit collateral damage alright, lots of civies in the area..."

"Sir, we are getting weapon locks!!" The pilot's voice said, coming over the intercom. "Going evasive!"

"Damn!" Larn exclaimed as he was thrown bodily into the wall by a quick maneuver. "They jumped the gun. How the hell did they know?"

"It's got to be that garage!" Tyr shouted, hurriedly cramming his helmet onto his head as the dropship nearly went upside down, only his magnetic boots keeping him in place as the pilot tried to break the locks. "It has a massive communications and sensor array on the top of it."

"Sounds like a good place for some artillery support." Larn called over the communications circuit, keeping himself in place with one muscular arm looped through the overhead netting of the hold.

"Good point." Tyr replied, activating the long range comms system built into his armor, the computer automatically selecting the circuit specific for the Adaron. But, before he could say a word, the pilot's voice was back.

"Incoming missile!!" he called, the dropship going into a sharp vertical spiral that made Tyr's stomach lurch, his magnetized boots only barely keeping him upright, his ankles starting to ache as gravity forced them against the rigid armor plates. "Brace for impact!!"

Tyr immediately grabbed the mesh netting that hung from the ceiling with both hands, gritting his teeth hard and closing his eyes against the spinning view. Three rotations later, a tremendous explosion that could be heard through the hull accompanied the dropship lurching relatively upward as if it had been kicked. Opening his eyes a crack as the dropship continued to spiral, the turn becoming even tighter, Tyr found himself looking out a ragged gap that the missile had blown in the opposite side of the transport, the gash narrowly missing one of the marines strapped into the drop seats on that side. Even as Tyr's stomach lurched up into his throat when the ship nosed over in a loop that couldn't have been intentional, he breathed a sigh of relief. The impact had to have been a near miss. Any missile powerful enough to hit a drop ship at their altitude would have blown the ship and everything in it into very small pieces if it had actually hit the hull.

"Lyr'en, what is the status up there?" Tyr inquired, keeping his tone under tight control as he shouted over the alarms that filled the comm circuit.

"Engine controls are sluggish!! Backup systems are non-operational!" The marine captain shouted, his voice sounding strained, as if he was gritting his teeth. Tyr could only imagine the strength it was taking to keep what little control he had over the wounded craft. "Can't keep her in the air, we are going down! I might be able to get us out of Tare airspace, but its going to be close."

"Everybody hold tight!!" Tyr shouted, his voice barely audible over the air roaring into the compartment through the gash in the hold. A moment later, the transport dropped about four hundred meters in the span of a heartbeat and Tyr heard one of his marines retch, the coyote wincing in sympathy, the ship's nose angling sharply downward.

"Its no good!" The pilot shouted as the dropship flipped over onto its side. "We just lost lateral thrusters! I'm going to try and bring the nose up. Impact in five seconds!!"

"You know, this is exactly why I transferred out of the PAI!!" Tyr shouted and he heard Larn chuckle from across the cargo hold, his voice sounding odd from the wolf being tensed up holding himself in place. "I hate this part!!"

A few moments later, Tyr's view tilted crazily as the floor slipped out from under his legs, the violent impact with the ground overwhelming the magnetized soles of his boots, only his tight grip on the netting saving him from being flung out the gap in the hull. Unfortunately, though the dropship rapidly lost speed as it carved a furrow in the tarmac of the spaceport, Tyr didn't. The coyote officer winced when he saw the ceiling of the troop compartment flying towards him, then he saw only black...

***

11-16-3015

Time Index; 0813 hours GST

MAS Adaron

Sython system, Merxian space

Commander Raiselle sat in the command chair of the bridge, brooding at the tactical display on one side of his chair. On one half of the display, the Adaron and the support craft that belonged to it were displayed in relative position to the planet. On the other, the major ships in system were displayed within a three dimensional sphere of space, and that display was the one that was occupying the bat. In the last ten minutes, the two Black Claw warships had shifted position, moving into an orbital plane right above the transport, but such a movement wasn't too hard to explain. The ships could have been doing nothing more than shifting position to clear a departure lane through Sython's gravity well, but the timing of the movement coincided a little too closely with the approach of the drop ship going down to pick up Tyr for his comfort.

"Helm, adjust our heading for a higher orbit, take us over the southern continent." He commanded and the other officer acknowledged, making the alteration as instructed. The course change would put the Adaron out of the path of the warships in a few moments, which would confirm whether or not they were maneuvering to intercept his ship or not. Then, just as the helmsman made the adjustment, a warning alarm sounded and the bat returned his attention to the tactical display on the main monitor. The dot representing Tyr's dropship had suddenly winked out, replaced by a blinking emergency transponder.

"Oh, what the hell..." He exclaimed, then a second alarm sounded, making him turn his attention to the other tactical display, the one beside his chair. A dozen new blips had appeared in the vicinity of the Black Claw ships, rendered in blood red on his screen, the computer automatically flagging them as hostile fighters and the chiropteran felt his blood run cold. "Wave off the shuttles, all hands to battle stations!! The Black Claws just deployed fighters. Helm, evasive maneuvers, bring us about! Tactical, I want point defenses up, now!!"

"Aye sir." The fox helmsman replied, the star field in the main view screen tilting as the ship turned about.

"Point defenses on line, primary plasma capacitors are charging, ready to fire in ten seconds." The lion at the tactical station reported, his voice taking on an edge of excitement.

"Target the frigate's engines, fire as soon as you have a shot. Do not wait for my order." The bat commanded, "Helm, as soon as that ship's engines go offline, I want full emergency thrust moving around the planet, gravity slingshot trajectory."

"Aye sir." The lieutenant replied, smiling grimly as he plotted the course with one paw, the other directing the ship's evasive maneuvers.

"Drop bay, launch all dropships, head for the planet." The commander ordered, speaking into the internal comm line. "I repeat, clear the deck, Marines."

Although he issued the commands calmly, obviously confidant in his plan, the chiropteran commander knew that the odds were very much stacked against them. The Adaron sported good enough point defense systems for a ship of its size, but its main armaments were only four mid-size plasma turrets and a half dozen missile tubes, good enough to support ground forces and deal with the small ships that would interfere with a landing, but they might as well have been pop guns against larger warships. Though antiquated, the Juran frigate alone mounted three times the weapon compliment of his transport, and since patrol frigates were designed to deal with fighters, it also had almost four times the point defense batteries of the transport, rendering the Adaron's missiles useless. And he didn't even want to think about what the cruiser could do to his ship. Fortunately, the cruiser was also too slow to catch his ship at full thrust, which meant that if the Adaron could disable or even just damage the faster frigate's engines, then all they had to do was get out of range, the fighters not carrying enough firepower to stop the ship even if they got past the point defenses. But that was a big if.

A few moments later, the display lit up with plasma rounds as the mercenary capital ships opened up with their plasma batteries, dozens of balls of fire soaring towards the smaller transport. The bat watched the plasma rounds coming, his outward demeanor calm, but inside, he felt the icy spike of fear that every naval officer felt, seeing so many shots coming towards him. Of course, he knew that there was nothing more he could do, other than interfere with his own officers. No, all he could do was sit and wait, counting the seconds as the rounds came closer. Setting his jaw, Raiselle took a deep, slow breath, his fingers tapping on his arm rest. Right as his count hit ten, four plasma rounds shot out from the Adaron's turrets, the balls of coherent plasma forming as tight a grouping in the view as the bat could ask, and he allowed himself a slight smirk. But, three counts later, the incoming rounds blocked out his view and he closed his eyes. A few seconds later, the chiropteran winced as the entire ship shuddered, opening his eyes once more, an alarm tone sounding throughout the bridge.

"Damage control, report." He commanded calmly, squelching the alarm with the controls at his fingertips and watching as the plasma rounds approached the enemy frigate on the main screen.

"We have a minor hull breach, deck 2, section 10... crew quarters." The engineer manning that station called over his shoulder. "Area was already locked down, no casualties. Auto-sealers are responding. All systems still show green."

"We only caught one round." The bat commented, knowing that the ship's armor had prevented most of the damage, his gaze never wavering from the tactical display. "Nice flying lieutenant." A moment or two later, the four rounds from the Adaron impacted and he ground his teeth, the tactical overlay highlighting the impact zone in red, showing that the rounds had hit just forward of the frigate's engines, burning away a few layers of armor, but not accomplishing much else. A moment later, the Adaron's turrets spat fire a second time and the Merxian commander finally grinned. The one and only advantage his ship had in terms of weaponry and firepower was that the plasma capacitors were from the very newest generation of such technology and nearly twice as efficient as those aboard the outdated vessels they were fighting, which meant the Adaron could fire twice as often once the system warmed up. But a moment later, the bat's ready grin faded slightly, leaning forward. "Enhance grid 4." The view changed a moment later, the section with the cruiser growing larger, the view sharpening as the computer enhanced it and the bat shook his head. Almost fifty iridescent flares suddenly showed up on the screen, spreading out from the cruiser's port side missile battery.

"Sir, point defenses can't handle that many missiles at once." The tactical officer stated.

"I know, lieutenant." The bat snapped, cutting off the officer's comment, his mind beginning to race. "Prep missile tubes one, three and four with Stellar-Burst warheads, fire when ready."

"Aye sir," The tactical officer replied, the tone of his voice making it sound as if he thought his commander was out of his mind. A moment later, the officer grimaced, his console lighting up red. "Sir, the targeting sensors can't track things as small as missiles, and the ships are out of range of SBs. We don't have anything to shoot at."

"Override the tracking systems and launch when its done." Raiselle commanded, his mind racing as the officer complied with his orders. "Helm, rotate the ship fifteen degrees on the long axis. Tactical, detonate the warheads on my command, and not a moment sooner." Keeping his hands steady on the armrest of his chair, the commander took another steadying breath, focusing his gaze on the incoming missiles, blocking the rest of the display out of his head, the sensor system counting down the range to target all too quickly. His heart hammering in his chest, the bat hesitated for a few moments, not even reacting as another volley of plasma fire shot from the mercenary ships, lighting up most of the display, keeping the count in his head. "Detonate!!" Three sparks lit the screen as the primary charge on the special warheads exploded. Then, a heartbeat later, a wall of explosions blocked out the zoomed in view and the bat grinned to himself, half of the flares from the incoming missiles gone once the explosions cleared.

"There is no way that should have worked." the lion at the tactical station commented, staring incredulously at the tactical display, his hands frozen over his controls. The bat grinned at the lion's statement and disbelief; stellar-burst warheads had been designed to counter fast moving fighters and hazards like asteroids, the multiple stage warheads having about ten times the explosive radius as a normal one. However, the trade-off for that burst was a shorter operational range and much less overall firepower. Of course, when dealing with missiles, those two factors didn't make much of a difference.

"It's all about timing lieutenant." The bat replied, returning the view to its normal settings as strobes of light sprang from the point defense lasers, the small emplacements beginning to pick off the incoming missiles. From the look of things, there were just few enough missiles that the point defense system should be capable of handling them all. Which meant that was one less thing to think about. The autoloaders for the cruiser's missiles would take a good minute or so to reload the battery, which would give them plenty of time to maneuver out of range. Commander Raiselle's fingers returned to their tapping, watching as the Adaron's second volley of plasma fire crossed paths with that of the enemy, coming very close to hitting the target. But then, just as the rounds connected with the enemy ship, everything seemed to happen at once.

"Commander, I'm reading a malfunction in the point defense system, dorsal starboard!!" The tactical officer exclaimed, but before the bat could reply, a massive explosion sent the bridge crew spilling out of their chairs, thrown onto the deck, the bridge thrown into sudden darkness, every display going offline. Swearing, Raiselle pushed himself up off the deck, shaking his head to clear it as the emergency lights came back on. He had been fortunate enough to land more or less flat on the deck before his chair, though he had smashed his chin into something on the way down. But looking around the bridge, he knew not everyone was as lucky. The tactical officer was slumped over his control panel, blood spreading through the tawny fur that covered the side of his head and all that could be seen of the helmsman was one booted foot hooked over the helm console, the rest of his body out of sight, forward of his station. Fortunately, the fox was already moving, drawing himself back upright, miraculously unhurt.

"Report!!" Raiselle shouted, spitting out blood from a broken tooth as he pushed himself to his feet. The control stations were already blinking back into life as backup systems came online.

"We have a serious hull breach, decks one through three, sections nine through sixteen." The damage control officer shouted, somehow still at his station despite the missile hit. "Plasma turret three is gone, missile tubes two and five are not responding. Primary sensors are offline. Damage control teams are responding."

"Engine systems are still functioning." The fox lieutenant reported, climbing back into his seat. "We lost midline dorsal thrusters, but the rest are still online."

"Get the secondary sensors working, we need to see what is going on out there." Raiselle commanded, moving to the tactical station and feeling for a pulse, trying not to think about how many of his crew were dead thanks to the malfunction. About a third of the ship's compliment were down on the planet enjoying leave, but that left hundreds still in danger. The lion officer still had a pulse, and though the wound on his scalp looked ugly, nothing seemed broken. The feline was already stirring and the Commander eased the other officer back into his chair before looking at the readouts on his station, wiping the bloody smear off the station as he examined the screen. As bad as the missile hit had been, most of the rest of the weapons were still online. It was the point defenses that were troubling. According to the tactical display, no point defenses forward of amidships were working, which meant more than half were offline. Now, if the fighters got close, the Adaron would be almost helpless against them. Returning to his seat, the Adaron's Commander shook his head, keying the internal comm. system on. One problem at a time. "Medic to the bridge."

"Secondary sensors are online." The wolf at the sensor station stated, the main screen coming back online a moment later, the tactical display flickering into life a few moments after that. A second later, the chiropteran shook his head in relief, his tongue tip absently feeling around the edge of his broken tooth. The tactical display showed half the frigate's engines displayed in red, more than enough to allow the agile transport to outpace it.

"Helm." The commander began and the fox grinned over his shoulder at him.

"Already moving sir, full emergency thrust." He stated and the bat nodded, looking towards the lion officer, who already had his hands on the controls once more, blinking and shaking his head.

"You alright?" Raiselle asked and the man nodded.

"I think so sir." He replied, leaning over and squinting at his display. "Though it feels like my head is about ready to explode." Cocking his head a little, the officer leaned back from his station a bit. "Sir, I'm reading torpedo tracking locks, two of them."

"What?" Raiselle exclaimed, looking back at him in surprise. Only destroyers and capital ships the size of Heavy Cruisers or larger mounted torpedoes, the weapons too slow and bulky to be of use for any other ship class, and neither of the enemy ships could support the system. "That has to be a mistake."

"Sir, proximity warning!!" The sensor officer called and the bat felt his blood run cold for a second time.

"Distance and bearing?" He inquired and the officer paused a moment before looking back at him, a grim expression on his face.

"Two thousand meters off the bow, lower starboard quarter." He replied and the bat gestured to the main display. The screen shifted suddenly, bringing into view a pair of large, smooth projectiles, sharply pointed, each riding a trail of brilliant fire, though where they had come from, he couldn't guess. The Black Claw ships might have been outdated, but the torpedoes certainly were not, the distinctive sharp pointed design indicating that they were Taruran Penetrator torpedoes, the most advanced model in the galaxy. They were designed to pierce through a ship's armor before detonating, and if they hit the right spot, a single Taruran could split a ship the size of the Adaron in half. Raiselle closed his eyes in resignation as the tactical officer spoke. "Impact in three...two...one..."

***

11-16-3015

Time Index; 0826 hours GST

Tare Pharmaceuticals space port

Sython system, Merxian space

Tyr let out a groan as a jolt of white hot agony lanced through his skull, bringing him out of the darkness he had been lying in. The coyote's head felt like it was splitting in half, but at least he could feel, which meant he obviously wasn't dead. Painful vibrations were surging up his legs from his ankles, making him grit his teeth from the constant pain. He was being carried, or perhaps more properly, dragged, along a textured surface, his heels bumping over grooves of some sort. When he was dragged over something heavy and rough and his ankles rebounded sharply off the ground, he let out a cry of pain, his eyes snapping open, the officer flailing around, trying to break the grip of whoever it was that was torturing him.

"Easy Colonel!" A familiar deep voice said and Tyr stopped struggling, recognizing Major Tor'sek's voice. Through eyes blurred with pain, Tyr could see blue sky, and what had to be a billowing column of black smoke, but everything looked strange; bright, oddly colored spider webs crisscrossing over the blue surface, and he couldn't imagine for the life of him what that could be. Raising his head hurt like hell, but the coyote managed it anyway, looking down the length of his body. To his right, Tyr could make out the grey hull of the drop ship surrounded by ash and dust kicked up by the crash, four trails revealing grey tarmac beneath the soot, two of which ended at his boots. Managing to turn his head to the left, the Ranger commander saw another pair of legs dragging through the black powder, legs sheathed in the form fitting and streamlined armor of a Merxian pilot. The legs were limp, which was concerning for a reason his injured head couldn't seem to understand, but such thoughts left his mind when he realized his huge XO was managing not only to drag two soldiers in full armor at the same time, but was doing it at a relatively quick pace. A moment or two later, Tyr felt Larn turn a corner, then prop him up against something solid. Looking to his left and right, Tyr saw armored figures laid on either side of him.

"How are you ever going to survive without me Colonel?" Larn quipped, the huge wolf coming into view, kneeling down in front of him. "Your armor says you are fine. How do you feel?"

"Like I just survived a dropship crash without being strapped in." Tyr replied, shaking his head and mentally checking his limbs. Nothing felt broken, just very, very sore, and stiff, not bad considering. Reaching up, Tyr felt around his helmet's faceplate and realized exactly why everything looked so odd. The faceplate had been shattered on impact with the hold's ceiling, only the polarizing layer on the interior keeping it from shredding his face. Unclipping the helmet, the coyote lifted it off his head, bringing the sounds of crackling flames and distant sirens to his ears. Looking around, Tyr found that he was slumped against what used to be the upper hull of his drop ship, facing the side of a building the small transport had barely missed, a half dozen marines led by a sergeant standing around, looking out over the low points in the hull as if on sentry. Beside him, he counted four other armored Marines, including the pilot, laid out against the hull, most of whom were not moving. "Who did we lose?"

"Branin, Willer and Seax are dead," Larn replied, reaching over to check the pilot's vitals. "Lyr'en and Ardis are injured, and I can't tell how bad. I don't know where the others ended up." Tyr nodded, rolling his neck in a circle to stretch the muscles there, using his thumbs to pop the broken faceplate out of his helmet.

"Sir, we have incoming!" The marine Sergeant called, peering over the smashed engine cowling. "Looks like three assault carriers and at least fifty hostiles. More are on their way."

"Oh great." Tyr said, putting his helmet back on and holding out a hand. "Give me a hand, will you?" Larn grinned and hauled the coyote back onto his feet, steadying him as he swayed. Turgoun assault carriers were basically light tanks, designed to support infantry platoons. Each one had a crew served weapon position, usually heavy machine guns or heavy plasma weapons, as well as built in multi-grenade launchers and sometimes even heavier weapons, like rocket launchers so they could tangle with heavier vehicles and aircraft. "Well, we know our liabilities, now how about our resources?"

"Most of the small arms survived the crash." Larn reported as a corporal offered the Colonel an assault rifle. "Nothing heavier than grenade launchers though."

"Comms?" Tyr asked, his XO swinging his machine gun around to his front, the two officers heading for the sergeant's position.

"Got through to Captain Tas'ker a minute ago." Larn replied. "1st and 3rd are incoming, ETA three minutes. I couldn't get through to the Adaron, but my comm unit's transmitter is damaged."

"Defensive positions, hold this area." Tyr commanded, the Marines taking up firing positions, kneeling behind the cover offered by the crashed drop ship, stacking the extra weapons and ammunition beside them. Activating the comm. unit built into his armor, the Ranger commander called over the circuit. "Adaron, Adaron, this is Turlion zero-one, requesting fire support." Only silence greeted him, and Tyr frowned, using the wrist mounted computer to run a diagnostic on the communications module. The equipment showed that it was working on his end, and he tried again as Larn opened fire, letting loose a long burst from the LMG he carried. "Is anyone receiving up there?"

A strobing light accompanied the distinctive hiss of return fire as plasma rounds hit the dropship's hull, a string of rounds hitting the building behind him. From the size of the holes they melted in the wall, they were most likely from a vehicle mounted weapon, the sort of thing that could eventually burn through starship plating. Tyr and his Marines would be safe for a while, but if they couldn't get somewhere safer soon, the dropship's hull would give way and they would be exposed. When the comm circuit stayed silent, Tyr shook his head, checking the magazine on his rifle. Seeing that it was fully loaded, he rose up so he could see over the edge of the ship, drawing a bead on a Black Claw crouching in the distance. Ten or so black clad bodies were scattered over the tarmac, but there were a few more behind the carriers, and many more running towards them. Even as Tyr took aim, he noticed that none of the three assault carriers mounted rocket launchers, which was good news of course, but the rest of their weapons were powerful enough to quickly overwhelm their small arsenal of weapons.

"No answer on the command circuits." Tyr commented, flicking the rifle over to burst fire.

"Which means either they are too busy to answer," Larn shouted, his machine gun chattering between them, the rounds skipping off the armor of the lead assault carrier, tracking up towards the barely visible helmet of the gunner. "Or..."

"Or there is no one left to respond." Tyr finished for his XO, squeezing the trigger and letting loose a three round burst that made the distant soldier stagger. Squeezing it a second time, the coyote put the mercenary on his back, ducking back down as plasma rounds sizzled into the hull where he had just been standing. "We are on our own..."