WD Event: Battle of Avery Hall
Battle of Avery Hall
Summary: Are the Marines bad enough dudes to save the President?!
Date: 05/01/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Fire Over Caprica
Dropkickst Bridget Madeline Kreskas Afton Andromeda Knox Bear Noble Cruz 
Avery Hall - Caprica City - Caprica
TBD
January 5, 2005

For the platoon of Marines sitting in Raptors, things are probably tense. "One minute to jump." The elevators beneath the Raptors lock into place. Outside the flight deck, fore and aft, the Marines can see the armor plating slide down to uncover the flak guns. And then there is that sickening feeling followed by a bright flash as the ship begins its series of jumps back to the colonies. One. A few minutes pass. Then another jump. A few more minutes and then there is one last call that can be heard in the Marine's radios. "This is our last jump and we will be jumping to just outside Caprican orbit. We have no time for speeches, gentlemen." Everyone is defaulted to male. "Trust your training and follow your orders. Trust each other and give these motherfrakkers hell. The task force jumps in thirty seconds." It almost drags. "Jumping in five. Good Hunting, Orion." Then the final jump happens and Caprica's glow can be glimpsed against the hull beyond the flight deck. "All aircraft, scramble," is said calmly by a female in CIC.

As the aircraft lift and fly, the Raptors all flow out of the flight deck pods in a steady line like angry bee's. They swing out of the pods and there are a few gasps as crews see the nuked, black clouds over Gemenon in the distance. They drift and meld together across the surface like ink in water. The radioactive churning rolls across the globe, death's shroud falling ever farther with each nuclear flash. Below them, Caprica. The Raptors continue their turns and speed towards the surface. Destination: Downtown Caprica City.

Ever since the rumors of Caprica have begun, Madeline has lapsed into a dead silence. No bouncy songs, no smiles, no nothing. Instead, she sits like a porcelain doll in her seat, her gear in order, rifle settled in her lap. Her blue eyes remain staring down at the pair of rings that hang along with her dogtags, and the idea of crying is still long to pass, as she listens to the radio chatter and handles the bumpy ride through the atmosphere as they make their descent into Caprica airspace.

Five, six Raptors prolly - if not more. Kreskas is in the command Raptor, strapped in with his combat gear. He keys his radio as the Raptors begin to move after the last jump, "First squad, secure the landing zone, you're first on the LZ. I want a full perimeter. Second squad, once we have a solid perimeter and the last Raptor is on the ground move forward to the north one hundred meters. Heads on a swivel folks. Petty Officer," this is to Ashton, the PJs withi him, "You and the Corpsman. You get to the President or who's left, so you're going to be in the group with us. You secure them, and you get the hell outta dodge with a security team. I do not care what our situation is, we hold the line for you to get to the Raptor. If I say dust-off or you lose comms with me, you get back to the battlestar, you tracking?"

Looking to Kreskas, Afton who is double checking her gun nods, "Yes, sir. Of course." She holds his gaze and then looks to Bridget a moment. "We got this." There is a dead certainty, a calm that has fallen over herself as she tucks her prayer beads away and zips the pocket closed. She whispers something and bows her head, a worried pensive look on her face for a brief moment before the brief appearance of a picture with a blonde boy briefly is pulled out. Quickly slipping it back away, she PJ grips the hand rail and waits.

Bridget looks to Kreskas with wooden, dull eyes. "Yes, sir." Her voice is too loud. She then looks to Afton and nods, taking a long breath before… gripping the rail and waiting. Silent. She might even be on mental auto-pilot.

Bear checks and double-checks his safety, his ammo, his spare ammo, his gear, his comms, etc., etc. He listens close to whatever instructions are given, bouncing absently on the balls of his feet as he waits with the other marines.

The Raptors begin to shudder and shift with the descent when one of the ECO's calls out over the radios, "Sirs, we've got bandits all over the place. They're fading contacts, though. Nothing coming after us, but these things are landing or hanging low near the ground. …Could be air support, sirs." The pilot is busy descending through atmo entry but eventually noses forward and pushes the throttles up as the team of Raptors blast through the sound barrier, twice, and head towards the ground. Out in front, Caprica City looks large and there are small fires burning in several sections of town and large blasts around town. It looks, judging by the fires and ongoing blasts, that there is a ever-shrinking circle of resistance around most of the north side. Downtown, though, is anarchy. There are several fires smoking near the sprawling front lawn. Fresh blasts puff across the terrain every few seconds.

"OOhrah, Petty Officer Samuels. You trained for this. You got this. You save lives, and that's what we're going to do," Kreskas tells Bridget as he levels a gaze on her. "Alright? Follow the PJ. We're going to rock this." A nod to the ECO, "Roger," he says, switching to the platoon 'net. "All units, ready for a rough LZ. First, get ready to get out and secure this LZ for us!"

Steadying herself, Madeline pushes to her feet and tucks the rings away underneath her armor. She glances over at Bridget and offers a faint, if fleeting smile, before her face resettles and she watches the Captain and the little drop light telling them it's safe to deploy.

Afton pulls herself quickly together after her private moment and offers a faint smile of reassurance to Bridget. She presses a gloved finger to the side of her nose. "Follow the blonde braid, PO." SHe offers and nods to Kreskas as she gives her hair a tug, fraying and messy. THe PJ readies as they lower into atmo, waiting to get a look out when they disembark.

Bridget glances to Madeline and offers a mirrored smile before nodding to Afton and Kreskas. "Rock it, blonde braid," she says in confirmation, melding the two into a sort of mantra. Her own red mane is pulled into a low ponytail. And then… she waits, more, eyes straying to Madeline more often than not. She offers a silent, quick prayer, green eyes dark.

The Raptors noses lift, though and roll out of the dive to circle around the LZ on the front lawn. "Sirs, looks like we had several tanks go down on the lawn. Heavy small arms fire on the steps. This one is going to be hot. We'll put you all down on the north side of the building." Avery's lawn spreads out to the East off the marble steps up. "Here we go!" The line of Raptors roll down and dive in between buildings, flying right of Mercalit Avenue and nearly slamming into intersection signals. Glimpses of people engaged in street battles with blurry, steel walkers are caught, but there's no missing the number of dead in all manner of positions and places. "Setting down in ten!" The Raptor flares hard once more and the power is dumped. The skids touch down on the asphalt street and work as advertised, skidding down the street a few yards. Behind the lead, the other Raptors touchdown similarly and the doors open. "Green light!"

The landing isn't gentle, but it's a combat landing. Few, if any of the Marines have ever experienced it before. As the Raptor's bay opens the Marines begin to spill out - working on securing the perimeter, as Kreskas follows them out - his rifle tracking upwards as he moves out past the Raptors, taking a knee as first squad works to secure the landing zone just enough for the team. "Sergeant," he calls to Bear, "Let higher know we're green. You stick with us, we'll need that firepower."

As she steps off the Raptor, and her foot touches down into the ash-strewn streets of what was once Capirca City, Madeline freezes in place. Her mind reels at the sights and sounds, and it all flashes back.

Seven years ago - Madeline Price was stepping onto the red carpet of the hall for a movie premier. She had glammed it up with a revealing blue dress that matched her eyes and showed almost more skin than a teen should be allowed, gorgeous pumps, and her hair swept up beautifully. She was young(er) and single then, and just wanted to stun everyone with what she had grown up into from Snackcakes Sandy. She remembered the pictures, the articles. The start of her reboot of her career as a child star to a promising teen actress. The dazzling lights of Avery Hall greeted her and she shined like the star she was.

She stumbles, nearly falling face first as the current day LCPL Madeline Cervantes is not greeted with screaming fans and the flashing lights of the paparazzi. She's not glammed up, she's in her BCUs, combatted out, and her usual long red hair is in a sharp bun under her helmet. Instead of the cheers and calls of the paparazzi, she's drawn out into the screams of the soon to be dead or dying, the flashes of assault weapons, and attacks, and the blooms of fires born from the womb of a nuclear storm. It's becoming too much. Way too much. She has to choke down the sudden wet lump that forms in her throat and she half-stumbles, half-runs to clear herself from the craft into the permanent shadow of the mortally stricken and forever damaged Avery Hall. She manages a few steps before she immediately bends over and heaves, her lunch spilling all over the ground as she's rocked by the need to vomit and vomit hard. It takes a couple of moments before she coughs a few times and runs her sleeve across her mouth, spitting into the ash. Her fingers grip on the rifle as she tries to push herself up. "I'm fine, I'm fine.." she spits to noone in particular, trying to force herself back on task.

As they hit, her legs give a bit for the shock and Afton flexes her grip on the railing. She rolls around on her heels and when they are all good and snug, she shifts, pushing her way to the opening, but allowing some of the rifelmen to go first. Her eyes narrow as she pulls up her gun and keeps the safety in check for the moment till they can fan out. "PO, stick with me, gun at ready, safety on til we get room." That leaves her going low, shuffling out of the raptor and staying low to the ground. But her eyes flicker over to Madeline as she spills her stomach, her lips forming into a thin line before she moves over to the redhead and pops her a mint, offer it over. "Suck this."

Bridget follows Afton, watching Madeline. This isn't the time for tenderness, though; the other redhead just sticks to Afton. Flashbacks of the terrorist attack she'd witnessed as a young recruit and worked through stream through her mind, a goddamn horror film being replayed in front of her eyes. But she, unlike Madeline, doesn't lose it; instead, she surreptitiously squeezes Madi's hand as she passes, and moves on, gun at the ready. She moves slow, hair a beacon for Afton when and if she catches up. Because, really, even if you've got a buddy, and you've got friends… you're alone on the field.

The view of Avery Lawn is one of destruction. There are several armored vehicles that look like they were once part of a roadblock but all of them have turned into flaming ovens. Black smoke and flame boil from their hatches. The smell of death is everywhere, as is the sharp smell of cordite and burning rubber. There's near constant gunfire coming from the steps of the hall, though. Automatic weapons, sometimes heavy stuff, as well as near constant bursts firing from the lawn area.

"You got it, sir," Bear replies to Kreskas. He relays the message, and then gives his gear one final check before they hit the ground. Then he's in position, heading out of the raptor with the others as ordered. He's got his weapon at the ready as he exits the bird, and if he's startled by the scene, he's keeping it well under control.

Madeline accepts the mint with shaky fingers. "Thanks." is murmured as she pops the piece of candy into her mouth. She straightens up and does not look down the streets. Don't. Instead, she turns her attention back to the mission and starts to look for a place to set up camp in case she has to pull air support overwatch.

As she looks around, she finally calls out, "Captain, where do you want me to set up overwatch?" Her stomach still churns, but there's nothing left to give out of as she scans the area and runs a quick check on her E3.

But then the sounds of contact within the hall grab her attention and she settles her hands on her rifle. JTAC will have to wait unless otherwised ordered. An apologetic look is shot over to her fellow Marines, she lost her shit and she knows it.

"Alright. Focus Marines," Kreskas shouts to the others as the area is as 'secure' as it's going to get. "First, fan out to the north and rest. Second, push through with me and the PJs. Third, cover our six. Fourth, behind us on the flanks. Lets move people!" he relays over the comm-net. "We don't get pinned down. If we get hit, we fire as one and break contact and keep moving."

"Right, sir." Afton says and moves in closer to Kreskas, checkng for her buddy, Samuels. A nod is offered againt to Bridget and her gun is lofted, aiming down to make sure that nothing is coming in for a nice little ambush. Feet are swift, pulling her with urgency forward as she feels those beads hugged tightly against her chest inside her pocket.

Bridget follows Afton, a good little trooper doing as she's told. "Rock this, blonde braid," she mutters to herself, gun pointed down at an angle as she walks. She moves fast, eyes darting to every little unexpected movement in her vision.

The movement up to the front of the building passes several uniformed Marines, both in dress uniforms and camo, and all of them armed and look to have been shot or hit with explosive fragments. The climb up to the front of the building, approaching from the side, has several plainclothes members of a security detail look back towards them. "Godsdamn! We're hurtin! Hope you brought ammo!" one yells. "We've got wounded we need brought out if you've got an evac!" The heavy WHUMPWHUMPWHUMP of a .50cal heavy machine gun coughs out a burst up ahead.

Madeline taps her radio, speaking into it as they rush up the stairs. Her frowns gets worse if at all possible, and she comes up beside Kreskas to deliver the bad news. "Air supports down, dealing with the furball above. We're barebacking for the rest of the mission, sir." she reports simply, and shoves her radio back home into her backpack holster.

"Corp," Kreskas bellows to Madeline, "Get it together! I know you can do it. Get me comms with those Raptors, tell them we have wounded. See what they can put together with us for a casvac." Casualty evacuation. "Make sure you keep comms with them, all the time. PO," to Afton, "See if there's anything we can do - quick. We can't dally." He switches to the command net, reaching the fourth squad sergeant, "Rackson, get your team arrayed around this place, relieve these Marines in place."

Bear keeps close watch on their surroundings as they join up with other marines already present, covering the group as Kreskas relays orders and information. He keeps to his post, hands still on his weapon for all that there's tension strung tight through the lines of shoulders and neck.

Allies. This brings the PJ up quickly as she glances to Kreskas. President first. She holds her tongue in asking over if there are wounded. Mission. But he gives the all clear and Afton nods, breaking away and picking up speed. "Wounded, where?" She asks. "Corpsman, I want you on these guys. We do what we can, but not long." Mission. That drives home, helps the PJ focus.

Bridget steps over, following Afton at a fast clip. "Triage, then go. I remember." Her alto is low, terse. "I know the drill."

The wounded are just inside the main doors to the hall, just inside the atrium at the security checkpoint. There are dozens of wounded. Most look like they've had field bandages applied and then shored up with ripped clothing. Men and women of all ages and manners of dress. "We've got a secret service agent in there, a female. She needs to get extracted badly! She's on the table at the checkpoint," the same man calls back. He keeps shouting something else, but the .50 opens up again for a longer burst. Peering around one columns, it looks like someone pulled a .50 off of a tank and now they've just got it laying atop a pile of rubble as a mount. But out in front, it becomes apparent just how bad the situation is. Cylons, dozens of them, running and firing as they cross the lawn. The .50 is getting the ones that are slipping through the rifle fire, but given the sheer number already here, there is just no way they can hold this position much longer.

"Sarge," this is to Bear, "Help them get some overwhelming fire down with that fifty, with your heavy weps team." to Afton, "Sixty seconds, maybe two minutes. That's all you got." To Madeline, "What? Dammit. Alright," to Afton. "Scrub that. Do what you can in sixty seconds. We gotta keep moving, PO. The heavy weapons guys will buy you as much time as we can."

"She been triaged, yet?" Bridget yells at the man, running into the fray. She ignores the least wounded, going for the secret service agent, presumably the worst living casualty.

Turning back to look at Kreskas, Afton slows her run, "Aye sir…sixty…fifty nine.." The PO is off again, counting down as she sifts through and catches the words, "The President?" She asks, breathlessly.

Whatever Kreskas said to the little songstress Marine snaps her out of her thoughts. Madeline takes up her radio again and dials up the recovery frequency. Rescue One, this is Charlie Three Three. Casualty evacuation on standby. Number of souls pending. Landing zone to be marked by blue smoke. Repeat, landing zone to be marked with blue smoke.

With that, she lowers her radio and continues after Kreskas, her rifle slung so she can serve as the RO-RO as needed.

"Yes, sir," Bear nods to Kreskas, and waves to his team, "You heard the man, we've got a minute of fire, let's go." He sprints off towards the .50 with his fellow Marines, ready to lay down whatever fire they can in assistance.

Riding rifle for Dog-Two, Simon Noble is keeping his head bowed just a little as his six-foot-two height makes him a slightly larger target than most. Eyes hard and angry, he tugs on one of the straps of a Private's ruck, testing it. It's the same Private that was getting his mouthguard fitted when Kreskas activated him as messenger of the gods. GMAR Rifle pointed to the deck, he moves to the firing line in support of Bear and the rest of his fellow marines.

The agent who has been shouting looks to Afton and shakes his head. "Last we heard, they got Adar!" he shouts over the gunfire. "We think he's alive but last reports say he's out. Vice President is dead! No word on any Quorum or Council members! Maybe some of the latter among the wounded!" He looks back and shoulder his rifle to aim at an approaching Centurion and he fires a burst into its chest, but it keeps running. Bullets blow past, cracking in the air before showering everyone with shards of marble that leave small cuts across exposed skin.

The answer Afton receives is not what she wants to hear, her eyes narrowing as she nods. "Captain!" She shouts, looking back over her shoulder. "Adar is reported gone, vice is dead. I am going to make a search for Quorum members here in the wounded." That said, she starts moving amongst them, lifting her voice. "Any Quorum members present?" Each person is given a look, if they are conscious and she pauses to check a few wounds, frowning at some as they seem to grave and she rises again, the PJ continuing to move amongst the refugees.

As Madeline's comm buzzes with the chatter of the CIC and the raptors, her eyes go wide and her usually pale features go paler. She speaks gently into her radio, cradling it to her ear against the sound of the firefight in the background. Copy, Orion Actual. We'll see you back home, out.

She looks to the group and back to the Captain. "Sir…" and there is no hiding the fear in her voice. "…Orion was able to destroy the first two basestars and support elements. Seven basestars inbound with over twelve hundred in support. We're to meet secure the President and meet the Orion at home." she says, looking over towards the group of survivors.

"Go. Check for Quorum, check for Council, pull them back into our perimeter," the captain orders. "So we'll meet 'em at home, corp. We got this," Pat tells Madeline. "OK? Relay what we know. The president is MIA. Vice is KIA. Unknown as to the status of any Council or Quorum members. Conducting search of property now."

Bridget pauses at Alton's words. That's when everything hits her. She takes long, slow breaths, deep ones, then stares at Madeline. "He's dead," she yells, then begins to check the wounded as a reflex, tightening a few bandages and readjusting a few others, but her eyes aren't really seeing for a moment. She shakes her head to clear it and then begins the search for Quorum and Council members.

The suited man with the automatic rifle looks back at Madeline. "Orion?! What the frak are you talking about? The fleets GONE! There's no support! No relief! This war was over ten minutes after it started!" he barks at the girl before looking back at Kreskas then back out to the Field of Fire.

Inside, most of the people are either in too much pain or unconscious to answer questions about who they are. With faces distorted or bleeding, its hard to identify anyone, let alone anyone who is usually smiling on TV. Several of them are already dead, though. But the Secret Service agent on the table has wound to her side that isn't terrible but it looks like she fell or was thrown somehow against a hard surface and nailed her head. She's out like a light.

Knox, with the crew the whole time, does not look like the man they all knew from the ship. Particularly to Afton, this guy is loud, pissed off, and very intense. After charging up the stairs, he takes the orders to the line and slots the rifle to his shoulder. A single flick on the fire selector and he aims down his sights, around a column, at a walker.

Afton grows agitated, a sigh escaping her lips as she glances to Bridget. "Keep looking, I am going to see if I can't wake the agent." SHe murmurs and is moving. Shoulder her rifle again, she cuts through the swath of dead, dying and injured, focused. The PJ shuts most other things out and gets to the side of the table and touches her shoulder. "Eh!" Her voice is a sharp quip and she lowers, looking the woman over with a frown creasing her lips. Green eyes consider the woman, reaching out to push at her again. "EH!" Its worth a try.

Bridget obeys orders silently, wooden, tears streaming down her face. Not enough to make it impossible to see, it just means it takes her a little longer to check identities before moving on.

"Buy the PJ some time. Overwhelming fire. Overwhelming force. Superior firepower. They can't take this. They can't take us. We're MARINES!" Krekas shouts, "Weapons hot! Open fire!" he says as he brings his weapon up, kneeling around the corner of some cover.

Moving up to the line and fitting himself in behind cover, Noble's eyes narrow from behind his clear shooter's glasses. His breath catches in the wind, forrming a visible cloud as he raises his GMAR to point downfield. Kreskas starts yelling to open fire, and that's all he needs. They need to die before the Marines do, and this is what he's been trained for. Never mind the jitters. Holding his breath, he squeezes the trigger.

Rescue One, we're nearly there. Hold on. Madeline starts to report through the radio as she remains down next to Kreskas. As she sees the troops fire she yells, "Captain, look out!" And tries to push him out of the line of fire with her small body. As she rises, suddenly her body lurches forward. She stands there for a moment as a fine red mist tears out of the front of her flak-jacket and she manages a squeak before falling face-down into the ash.

Kreskas almost has his helmet taken off - it's a close, close thing - the heavy LMG rounds narrowly miss him and likely are the reason that Madeline gets hit. He hits the deck, diving for cover and making sure she's down and behind cover as he rises up again, "CORPSMAN!" he says into the Marine comms, "JTAC is down." He brings the rifle up, firing off a burst at the attacker approaching him.

Knox moves aside and grabs Madeline by her radio pack and yanks her to drag across the ground and behind a rubble pile. "Godsdamnit!" he barks. "MEDIC!" He then turns back and lifts his rifle once more.

The GMAR rattles in Noble's hands, sending a trio of controlled shots down the range. Just like back at the firing grounds, the bullet's walk a path up the Cylon's metallic chest with a series of ricocheted pings and pangs. A sudden yelp sounds a millisecond before a warm splatter of red cakes the side of Simon's face and uniform. He glances over to find the the Private he's been mentoring falling to the dirt, eyes open and lifeless. From his angle, he sees Madeline go down. "Dog-Two-Four Down!" He rattles off. "Dog-Tree-Tree Down. We're taking wounded!" He calls out to Bear and the others, holding his ground despite the pure terror of it all.

"Covering!" a call is bellowed over Bear's shoulder, before the familiar sound of the GMAR's bark is heard. Cruz pops his large frame out barely to let loose a spray-likely to support Bear and give the downed marine a breather-well long enough to live.

Getting dragged over to the side, Madeline is pulled behind the cover. She coughs and her lungs rattle with every push of breath as a small stream of blood starts out of her mouth. "…Jacob?" she manages, closing those blue eyes of hers. "Is that you?"

The call for medic has Afton leaving the secret service agent to run forward after the LMG hit Madeline. Skidding along the ground, the PJ literally slides into the frey and stays low, reaching out to grab at her as she instantly is trying to releaves the pain and triage the woman in battle. "STay with me..okay, watch my eyes and just keep talking to me. Breathe deeply, slowly, you got this." She encourages Madeline slowly, nodding her head occasionally.

Bridget gets up and dashessprintsflies to the edge of combat, searching for Madeline, spotting her after a long, breathless moment. She runs to the starlet's side and begins triage, whispering breathless words of encouragement and reassurance. She nods to Afton, but her affection for Madeline is showing, hard, almostbut not quiteto the point of distraction.

"…m'sorry I lost our baby, Jacob…" Madeline murmurs, and as the drugs and treatment and blood loss starts to kick in, the young woman slips into unconsciousness, stilling quietly.

"C'mon you son of a b—-FRAK!" Simon curses loudly as his forward hand is pelted by shrapnel from the Centurion's bullets colliding with their barricade. Unable to tell whether or not the blood on his hand is from the Private that died next to him or his own, he quickly counts his fingers and drops the muzzle of his rifle back into his hand with a slap. Hissing and seething, he keeps up the fight.

"You got this?" Andro asks Bridget tightly, even as she keeps half an eye on the firefight. Heather eyes scan the downed WIRELO assessingly, and she nods, tightly, making her way back towards a supportive position. Noble's hit, and then Kreskas, and the Corpsman pauses, waiting to see if either man pulls back for treatment before she engages the enemy. Noble doesn't, and it gets a quick, tight grin from the Aerilion, and Kreskas follows suit so she manuevers herself into position, letting out a burst of fire.

"Alright." Kreskas says, after he's knocked back onto his butt with a heavy shot that his armor barely absorbs. Words leave him for a few seconds before he struggles to get back behind cover. "All units, break break break! Heavy weps, get some fire down range! Medics, pull wounded out. Third squad, get people to the LZ. Sergeant Knox, you get positive comms with the flights. I want them down here NOW, and we're stuffing those birds -to the gills.- I don't care what it takes. We're taking everyone in this immediate area. Second squad, third, lay down covering fire. Fire and move. Concentrate your fire. Head shots people!"

Bridget gets a handle on it and a quick nod. "Think you can carry her?" Afton asks of the Corpsman, glancing to Andromeda as she gives fire. The PJ waits for a reply and if she gets a no, will take up Madeline.

As the Cylons continue to advance, the .50cal gunner just keeps on firing, thumping out round after round in short bursts. The cylons are trying like hell to take him down but the man seems utterly fearless. But in another peculiarity of war, something else happens. Off one of the sidestreets, a Carballa main battle tank, roars through an intersection and gets a bit of air after moving over a car. The main gun roars, the shockwave and overpressure blowing out windows in nearby shows and shredding vegetation in front of it. The round flies across the width of the park and into a gas station across the street. In a huge fireball, the whole place goes up when a tanker truck is hit by the HEAT round. The resulting explosion takes out a trio of Centurions and sends a fourth airborne and through an office window. The tank continues its roll and the commander, a shirtless man wearing a helmet, is blazing away with a .50 cal as they cross the park and just keep on drive down another sidestreet.

Bridget looks at Madeline for a brief moment before nodding at Afton. "Yeah. I can." She grabs Madi carefully, but as quickly as she can, and begins to haul the hell out of there.

"Copy Captain!" the staff Sergeant shouts before there's a quick glance to Bear. "Ill cover when you pull." system set, before he's turning his head. "Three-lay down cover! Inch back, Fire again. Keep the focus!" Not that it needs repeating, Along with the life of war-this would make a piss poor Postcard. "Hell brothers, This is goddamned hell!"

Rising up fro her position, "Good, be careful, draw her back to the civvies." Afton touches Bridget's shoulder and nods. She rises up, begins to hone in on any other wounded, slipping closer and using what cover she can. "CALL OFF WOUNDED!" She cries out, trying to be heard over the exchange of fire. Her back presses to a piece of rubble and she stays there before even venturing for the next place.

Knox fires off another burst quickly and says something into the boom mic of his radio. He just looks pissed off and keeps firing.

Madeline remains a limp little porcelain doll that gets dragged around and leaves a nice blood trail. Red. Just like her hair.

The explosions rocks them all, and automatically the Marine captain opens his jaw and closes his eyes to ride out the concussion wave. "Now! Target the two remaining in that front line. Fall back as we move the civilians. Fire, move, fire move."

Knox gets another call on his radio and doesn't even reply. He looks over at Kreskas and shouts, "SIR! Raptor reports Raider inbound! Heavy type! Looks like they brought air support, skipper!" The man swings his rifle back out and pops a round into the neck of a Centurion and it goes down. New target.

"Frakkin' Andy. Hell of a day to die ain't it?" Simon says to Andromeda, giving her a dark pair of eyes from behind his blood-splattered glasses. The adrenaline of warfare running through his veins, he lines up his shot and HITS, though again the bullet ricochets off. A stray bullet whips in and catches him in the chest, forcing him to reach out and grab Andromeda's shoulder as he stumbles, back. There's no blood. "Frak!" He coughs and steps back to the line, dragging one of the nearby soldiers back to their feet and up to the line. "Don't Stop! Buy them some time! I'm right here with you, man. We're gonna be ok—" Simon's little pep-talk is interrupted by another trio of shots from his rifle.

"Keep it together." Cruz calls out as he is moving up to come and cover the Captain. "We've got a Corpsman down!" Not that Cruz needs to repeat anything. Still the massive Staff Sergeant, brings his gun back to bear, as Bear's missile rocks into a couple of Centurions, there's a grin right there, as the man's laughter booms out. "Shit hit Weps. Keep em going." As for the Sergeant, he's going to do his damnedest to keep the fire hot.

Bear is focused on his work, loading and reloading the launcher, checking the settings, making sure the barrel is clear between rounds, lining up targets and blowing them to smithereens. He's either largely oblivious to the plights of those around him or he's deliberately ignoring them.

Taking some fire, Afton' feels it dig into her stomach, the armor taking the brunt as she grunts. Going to a knee, she finds covera gain and lets out a cry. "For Fraks sake.." She presses her hand to her stomach and turns to look back and find Bridget down. "Gods.." She breathes and then is scooting back, rushing as she can and pushing past to get to the downed woman. Wincing some, she hits the ground and begins to work over the fallen Corpsman. "Okay…okay, you know how this works." She offers a faint smile.

Andromeda lifts her gun, raising it and sighting on a Raider. Quick, controlled bursts hit one of the Cylons reeling from the explosition, hitting head and arm and taking it down. Noble is given a quick, wolfish grin totally at odds with her usual mask of calm competency, and she catches him as he stumbles. She steadies him just in time to see Bridget get hit. "Frak." She swears, and quickly ducking and weaving her way back to the other Corpsman and her burden to start treatment to stabilize her. "On the wounded Corpsman. Afton?" And then Afton is there. "Gods." She mutters to the other woman.

"Sergeant," the captain shouts to Knox, "We got comms to these nearby units? See if you can get us some supporting fire. Weps!" to Bear, "Get that Raider down! Everyone else, keep moving. Pull back as we can, fire and maneuver. Just like in the Basic Course. Medics, wrap and stack 'em, we're moving to the Raptors! What's the ETA on those birds, Sergeant?"

Bear shoots Kreska a thumbs up, all the attention he can spare from his task. He glances up periodically to track the heavy raider's progress, getting that explosive round loaded, and then turns to shoulder the weapon, eyeing the raider before letting it fly.

Knox shakes his head. "Sir, we're frequency hopping with aircrew to maintain comms, sir! I don't even know what freq to look for those other units on!" After the next Centuriongoes down, the Sergeant nods. "THAT'S how you do it, Corporal! POUR IT ON!" Knox flicks his rifle into full rock and roll."

Andromeda completely ignores the fire directed her way. Begone, Cylon, you've no power here! "Stabilized." Andromeda tells Afton, even as she lightly slaps Bridget on the cheek, waking the woman up. "C'mon, soldier, we have a job to do." She tells her, Aerilion accent coming through thick and heavy despite her calm expression. She gives the marines a quick glance, stomach sinking when the raider comes in. And she begins to murmur prayers to Asclepius, the Lord of Kobol with providence over medicine and healers, under her breath.

As his shot seems to only scrape metal, Cruz mutters a curse, before he's dropping down. "RAIDER!" Hollered out, as the thing comes in on a fruitless strafing run. A string of curses leaves as Cruz pushs back up from cover-before he's looking over towards Noble. "Corporal. Give suppressing fire, see if we can't buy our medics a bit of time." One hand reaches to grab at his radio, but fingers fumble past as he brings his rifle back up. "Come on Three, keep humping back! You heard the Captain. Move your asses." Cue sergeantly advice.

The area around Simon Noble erupts into a field of kicked up dirt and missed shots from the Heavy Raider up above. Holding his ground, all Simon can do is lower his head and hope that by some miracle the helmet he's wearing will stop the attack. Dirt fills his mouth as he tries to breath through the mess. When he looks up to find that he's survived, he lets out a relieved breath and pats the shoulder of the marine next to him. "PEEL!" He calls to the man, who rolls around Simon's back and starts to move towards the Raptors. Simon stays, covering the man until it's his turn to move. He keeps firing, trying to make them die before him. "Suppressing!"

The Heavy Raider drops in low around the side of the building and its cannons open up immediately on Noble. But finding it hard to get a good angle, it sideslips and takes a more careful aim at someone on the crew, sitting nicely still.

Bridget groans awake, shaking her head. It's taking a moment for her to completely come to herself, it seems, as she squeezes her eyes shut and opens them again.

Looking to Andromeda, Afton nods, "Lets get the two of them out of here." She glances back to check on those behind, those still fighting and then reaches down to scoop up Madeline. Knox's loud returns then the call of Raider. "Oh by Athena…" She says and pushes herself up with a grunt, Madeline on one shoulder as she starts back towards the Raptors. A glance back and the PJ is shaking her head. "Hup hup!"

Madeline gets hefted up and her helmet falls off and the rings fall off, yadda yadda. She's a limp doll on Afton's shoulder, and gets ginger blood all over Afton's shoulder. That makes her an honorary ginger, amirite?

"That's it! Medics, Sergeant Cruz! You get those civvies moving back with our wounded. We're moving NOW people! Sergeant Knox, Weps, Corporal Noble, we're the last to move. Everyone else, get your ass the frak outta here. To the LZ! JTAC, work your magic, tell those birds we're coming in hot!

"That's it! Medics, Sergeant Cruz! You get those civvies moving back with our wounded. We're moving NOW people! Sergeant Knox, Weps, Corporal Noble, we're the last to move. Everyone else, get your ass the frak outta here. To the LZ! JTAC, work your magic, tell those birds we're coming in hot!" Kreskas shouts into his headset, as he drops to one knee, bringing up his rifle and aiming it at the Raider, trying to hit the cockpit.

"Huah!" Simon sounds off to Kreskas, metal pissing out of the side of his GMAR rifle as the last Centurion hits the ground. He takes a step back to put a little air between himself and the wall, and something crunches under his foot. He looks down to find something simple and shiny in the dirt; it's something that will have to wait for now. The whine of the Raider overhead is still a problem. He raises the rifle to the sky and fires off a shot, trying to aid in the concentrated effort to bring it down.

Andromeda lifts her hand, prepared to slap Bridget again, harder, if she doesn't wake up. Combat Medicine 101: The best way to get a wounded back to consciousness is to smack them around. "Wake up, soldier." Andromeda says sternly to Bridget, pausing on her slap when it's clear Bridget is awake… Only in time to take several rounds from the Centurion to the chest. Her eyes widen enough for white's to be visible all around her eyes, and she collapses to one knee, but doesn't go unconscious. Her head sags down, face hidden for a moment. "No. Time. For. A. Nap." She hisses, and begins to tug at her armor and start treating herself, attempting to stabilize her wounds as she fights unconsciousness with every ounce of willpower she can muster.

"Don't you DARE, Drama." Simon growls to the side, hearing her mumble for a nap.

"God dammit." Cruz barks, before he's making a motion. "Three Three! Pull your asses back now." apparently that is the affirmative. With a nod given towards Kreskas. "Aye, Captain." And e's directing traffic, like any MP can do. Though, this is more body traffic than anything. A shrill whistle is given, as he remains low. "Come on, and follow me- Almost there-" as far as getting the civvies loaded in. Likely he'll stand by as they clamber in, and provide fire as needed.

Finally the .50cal falls silent. "MA DEUCE IS DRY!" the gunner calls. He scrambles up out of the position and is immediately cut down by a string of gunfire. He crumples, lifeless. The other DSS agent curses and reaches over to pull up a new rifle, with more ammo, off a fallen comrade. But that missile to the Raider explodes across the cockpit and knocks the whole thing back. The gun sprays wildly into the air as the whole beast lumbers to the side and comes back on target towards the squad.

With Shots coming out of the woodwork, Cruz, drops down. One round going wild and pinging one of the Raptors. Quickly the rifle is brought back up, as he moves into a crouch. "Right Flank!" Shit-they are closing in, aren't there. And with his aim on the bastard that just shot at him, the Sergeant let's his gun do the most talking. "Get in! Move Move Move!"

"Alright. McBride, you get me a rocket right up that thing's snout," Kreskas calls over his net. "Sergeant Cruz, you good to go on getting the packages loaded?" Yes, civilians equal packages in this particular context. "COncentrate fire men! One more mad minute, then Sergeant Knox and McBride, fall back to the Raptors. Cover us as Corp Noble and I fall back." He aims, not much left in the magazine now, trying to hit that Raider again in the cockpit.

Madeline is carried into the Raptor, and laid out somewhere on the floor, probably.

The bodies ahead of her slump, some never to breathe again and the PJ has a moments flashback to something that caushes a freezing chill up her spine. She redoubles her efforts to close that distance to the injured, to that line of fire where the marines are attempting to hold. They are getting eaten up out there and she frowns, slipping closer as she manages to call out, "Corpsman!" Its a rough sound, one that brings herself up to the foor, watching Adromeda before trying to slip closer.

The Aerilion Corpsman would answer Simon, but she's too busy doing battlefield surgery on herself, stabilizing her bleeding long enough to stay on her feet. She manages to get the bleeding stopped, and cautiously gets back to her feet… Only in time for the Centurion to attack. She begins to pull back, moving as quickly and as carefully as she can. "'M good." She growls, maintaining pressure on her wounds as she retreats carefully, fumbling with one hand to grab at the rifle hanging from it's strap around her shoulder.

Bridget looks up and then begins to retreat, staggering to her feet and toward relative safety. Follow the blonde braid.

Knox is pulling back with the team, dashing between cover for an equal amount of time that he's out. He fires a couple quick shots towards the oncoming chrome before he spots one getting closer around Avery Hall and he just unloads half his mag towards it.

The fact that Noble shouldn't be enjoying this is overshadowed by the fact that the tall, exhausted Marine is not enjoying it at all. That damned Raider up above simply will…not…die. Of course, they're surrounded by the dead, and Madeline's ring is under his boot. "Your ass better be good, go on now!" Noble barks over his shoulder to Andromeda and fires another three-round burst. The GMAR bucks in his hands. He doesn't need to sound off to Kreskas. He's doing his damned job.

Bear holds the line (or tries to) as the others retreat back to the raptors, loading up an armor piercing round to try against the raider, since his first missile seemed to do relatively little damage to the big craft. He glances over his shoulder once, checking escape progress, and then takes aim.

Kreskas keeps moving back with the rest, gritting his teeth as the overwhelming firepower comes from the Marines. "Alright. Sergeants, back! Cover us! We're getting the frak out of here!" he says as he takes aim at Cent 2 and 5, firing long bursts at them. "Corporal, stay with me," he calls to Noble. "Almost done man, almost done. Lets get it done, home stretch!" When he's done firing, like the rest, they are jumping into Raptors, hopefully under cover fire, to get the frak outta here!

That is what brings Bridget into Afton's view, the way she turns from her attack and she lets out a breath. "Damn…" She shoulders her rifle, moving for the woman next and slipping her hands down to get them beneath her arms. She huphups and up she goes if she is allowed. "Got you Corpsman…" Only so many hands. She grunts, rising upwards and adjusting the other woman, she sturns, meaning to get her out of there. "Taking another Captain!" She calls and the PJ starts to pull the wounded out.

With a grunt, the Staff Sergeant is popping up, as he fires on to one advancing Centurion, before moving to the other. "Noble, your Four!" Cruz calls, before his next barrage of shots take down the franker that shot him. "Reloading." called cheerily enough, as one clip drops. Another is drawn and tapped to his helmet before sliding up and in. Click-Ready to rock. "Aye, aye Cap." the Sergeant sounds off, as he finishes reloading his piece. Once that's done, he'll make sure he's the last one on his Raptor.

Bridget murmurs. "Tried to follow the blonde braid" is all she manages, before the pain of being moved is too much. She groans quietly.

Andromeda's face is mask of concentration as she makes her way to the Raptor, facing the enemy and remaining on the ground in case she's needed to help assist someone up. The fact she's probably one of those badly wounded doesn't register.

The wind whistles as rounds zip past Simon Noble's head, and the muzzle of his gun keeps ripping out rounds at the Cylons until one particular round tags him in the kevlar over the stomach. An audible grunt of pain sounds from the man as his hip twists to the side. The puff of dust from his kevlar doesn't splatter any blood nearby, but looks decidedly painful. "Not going gods-damned anywhere, Sir. Got your back, huah?" Noble grits between his clenched teeth until he's reminded that doing that is a bad idea while firing. He lets out a dusty sigh and continues to fire. "Aint. A. Gods. Damn. Thing." He tucks the butt of the rifle to his shoulder and keeps in the fight. Four? He suddenly whips the rifle around and picks his target. Bra-a-a-p

The other squads are all engaged in massive firefights with Centurions closing on them down the street. Somewhere to the south that tank's main gun fires again and there's the sound of a building coming down. One of the Marines lifts a shoulder-fired SAM up into position and targets a Raider inbound. The missile pops out with a gas charge and then the motor kicks on and sails right up into the sky. The Raider never see's it coming and the missile plows into the port engine and the whole thing explodes in one rapidly expanding ball of flame, gas, and smoke. Meanwhile Bear's round slams through the cockpit of the Heavy and one-shots it right through the deck and hits the drive. The aircraft lurches forward slowly and then, while trying to steer towards a landing, the Heady pitches hard to the side and ends up coming down hard on the flaming tank. It might be worth noticing in itself, but there's a human form scrambling to get out of the burning wreckage. It doesn't get far, though. A few steps and them collapsing in a burning heap.

Knox continues returning fire and covers people as they're still climbing aboard. His rifle ends up being emptied at a nearby target before he turns to jump inside the Raptor.

Bear lowers his weapon to load another round, but he's backing away as he does it this time, looking up just in time to see the heavy raider careen too-slowly down to collide with the tank and catch fire. He backs towards the raptor, one of those bringing up the rear, another round prepped as he goes, though he ends up without time to fire it before stepping into the ship.

With the last rounds fired off, Noble retreats with Kreskas after grabbing the ring from the dirt. With only a few rounds to spare in his GMAR, he trusts in the rest of the covering fire and piles in after the Captain. "I'm in!"

Kreskas piles in with Noble - with all these people it's asses and elbows. A quick peek out the hatch just to make sure no one is left behind, and listening to the chorus of reports from the squad leaders and platoon commanders. Satisfied he shouts to the Raptor pilot and to the rest of the 'net, "We're good to go. GO GO GO!"

Andromeda slips in right before Noble and the others, and immediately reaches for her kit to start treating people as she's able, even as her face goes paler and paler.

Handing Bridget up to those waiting, Afton yanks herself in and finds a place amongst the others, moving then to check on her mate.

Madeline is laid out quietly. Her lungs continue to rattle with each breath, as she is strapped down for the ride home.

Bridget allows herself to be handed off, but quietly requests to be strapped in next to Madeline.

It's only once they're in the raptor and in the air, or more like once they've jumped at least once, that Bear seems to notice he's been shot. He bends over in the cramped interior of the raptor to peer at the blood on his pants and the hole it's coming out of, poking at it curiously.

"You think I need to be told more than once, Captain?" the Raptor pilot calls. "All Raptors, skids up and let's get back to the barn! Commence jumps as soon as you're free!" The hatch is already coming shut and isn't even there when he lifts off. The Raptor pulls hard pitch and he noses the whole craft forward as they pick up speed. Rounds ping and prang off the windscreen and armor plating as he blasts through 100 knots. "Air defense DRADIS is coming on line! Enemy anti-air! ….Everyone is off, sir," the ECO calls forward, yelling it as the information comes in.

"Punch it!"

With no reply from the ECO, he just bangs his fist onto the jump button and in an instant the Raptor is floating in the black of space on their first leg home.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License