MD #020: This is what we do
MD #020: This is what we do
Summary: A pilot and ECO are shot down over Bominaire; a rescue attempt is organized and help comes from unexpected places.
Date: Sat 29/Apr/2017 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: http://battlestarorion.wikidot.com/bominaire-recon
Petra Samtara Penta Clara Randy 
Map Room- Deck 2 - Battlestar Orion
Dominating the room is the large bottom-lit map table in the very center. Ten feet across and eight feet the other way, the table can gather a large number of people around it while still accommodating enlisted and support personnel in the small riser seating behind the table. The table has the most updated holographic capability and can project the largest displays on the ship. The risers to the sides are done in single-piece desk sections that run the width of the seating area and have large LCD touch displays built into them along with communications ports for headphones. At the head of the room are two very large LED touch displays that can have almost anything put on them, including projections of what is on the map table. In the rear of the room is a large, locked case that holds updated maps and table models.
Mon 13/Nov/2028

The reports are still coming in as the Wing lands…or in some cases, smears their wrecked planes into the deck and slides to a halt. Petra has his data pad open with the logistic reports and orbital pictures of the strike area slowly scrolling past, and he has a map of Bominaire's surface and the immediate system vicinity up while he leans on the table. The MPs have standing orders to let any DHs and their escorts in, and whenever someone does finally open the hatch, they can hear comms from CIC reporting «We have the location of the crashed plane and a good area the pilot and ECO punched out in, as far as last data is concerned, they're still alive but 6 clicks outside the target zone.» Petra simply grunts, "Got it. Keep me updated if that changes. How close is the nearest Diplomatic Corps lander?" There's a pause, «Not even remotely close, sir. They were staying WAY away from the strike area, remember?» A soft swear leaves the Commander's mouth, "Got it. Out."

Clara received a communique of some sort, and arrives within minutes. The S2 is punctual, if nothing else. Geared up in blacks, and armed to boot, the dark-eyed Three slips in and stays quiet while the adults talk. She's here, as far as she's concerned, just to listen for the time being until she sorts out what's needed from her.

Penta walks in, wearing digicam and also armed, albeit with a pistol. "So, Commander. Marines are mostly sorted. Howitzers are loaded and ready for transport. Any final issues I should be aware of, sir?"

In navy fatigues, instead of a crisp lab coat and her usual blues, Dr. Stone is listening to the reports that are coming in and is standing with her hands tucked into the front pockets of her fatigues and a frown on her face that looks about as cheerful as the expression on Petra's face. Well aware of the literal tick-tock of the mission that's afoot, she glances once - only once more - at the clock then back toward Petra, containing the need to be in immediate action instead of getting the logistic lay of the land. A nod is shared with Clara then another as Penta arrives, "Lieutenant," because Clara arrived first, and then, "Major," as he strode in second.

Randy is quick behind Penta, riding his coat tails into the room. She actually points and mouths, 'I'm with him,'….and it works. She's all geared up too, and stands to the side at parade rest. Ready to absorb information. She glances about the room and notes the others there.

Petra takes in a deep breath and lets it go, finally turning his head to look at the Arrival Of The Marines, He studies the three faces for a moment, then addresses Penta, "Major. I take it your folks are about ready to go? We have a hole punched, but its not clean nor easy. Not that we expected this to be either, but there you go." The map currently laid on and lit up on the table still showing the layout of the ground area around the fortress and red KILLED markers over the known SAM locations.

Clara's gaze scans over the map table thoughtfully, lips pursed in a slight frown as she does the mental math on the downed anti-air guns and those whose state is unknown. She clearly has questions, but isn't going to interrupt the important folk, just yet, to ask them.

Penta studies the map. "Well, it's something. So long as we don't have a hot LZ, I suppose. Particularly since we'll need a Rhino to carry the artillery we're going to need," he comments.

Randy presses her lips together as she listens to the bosses talk. It's easy for her to see the whole map from where she is…except when someone is blocking her view. She takes an inconspicuous step to the side and squints.

"Considering the location of the downed pilot and her ECO, what assets can be spared to retrieve them and get them lifted back to the ship?" Sam wonders as she moves a few steps forward to eye the map and the marked locations. "As one of the few personnel aboard who've actually spent time in country, literally, I'm taking point on this instead of one of the corpsmen, just to get that conversation point out of the way," she adds with a glance up at Petra then a nod to Randy as she spots the arrival of the third marine in the huddle.

Penta looks thoughtful. "Can we spare any is a good question. I know all the arguments to do so, but we're going to be heavily outnumbered as it is."

Petra mmms and steps to the side a little, maybe to make the view easier for everyone else. Guesturing with one hand, he draws an imaginary circle around a little area offset from the fortress, "Your original landing zone is still clear of hardened SAM emplacements. There could be manpacks they just havent unlimbered yet, but that's a risk we take anywhere." He pauses for a moment, and eyes Samtara, "Colonel, you were here a very long time ago. You're still the local expert, but don't let that give you too much confidence here. Its going to have to be a single Raptor team and I don't know yet who is still flight worthy after what just came back in."

"You're probably going to want a parajumper or two, and hope to hell the location is accurate so you can bug out as quick as possible," Clara notes to the doctor in their midst, somewhat tangentially; she'll defer to Penta and Petra for anything beyond that. "Do we know if they're alive?" she asks the TACCO.

"It's not confidence, Sir," Sam replies with a decisive shake of her head, "it's familiarity with the relative terrain and frankly being unwilling to order any of my people to do something that I myself am not equally willing to do. This needs doing, sir," she glance at Penta as well, "and all of my combat medics are already sorted to their landing deployments. I'm not pulling someone out to short a unit. That makes this my responsibility, personnel wise." She pause a beat while Clara asks her question then murmurs, "We presume they're alive."

Sam frowns then adds, "It's not over confidence, to clarify. It's simply necessity. This is what we do."

"And if they aren't mobile? Is there even a stretcher we can deploy with parajumpers?" Randy asks aloud…and then realizes it was aloud…and then glances towards Clara and the others, clears her throat, and shuts up. It's possible to make a something in the field…but it's not something someone wants to do in combat.

Petra eyes the map again, pursing his lips while some of the conversation goes in, sucking on a tooth while he considers and tries to build out a map in his head. He glances up at each of the faces, then adds, "The assault on the fortress is why we are here. Its what we have a window for, and it ABSOLUTELY takes priority over every other objective. That means we do not take away resources the Marines already have allocated. We need to hear from Deck if we have flight worthy Raptors that aren't already be used for an assault, then we see what we have for actual staff for it, like any PJs to go with her, and so on." He stops and gives Samtara another Look, "On one hand, a Department Head charging in on a rescue mission in the middle of a hot combat zone makes me wince, but I'm not going to start that fight with you. Don't do anything crazier than I would do."

Sam lofts one eyebrow, deliberately, "That's a short list, sir."

This gets a smile from Penta. "No comment, sirs." With that, his smile disappears. "Now, that said: I see from Lt. Colonel Janik's report that one SAM site is still active, though damaged, and we have Skath armored forces and walkers bound for our LZ. We're deploying…not that many troops, even if they'll be aided by artiller. Is it even going to be *safe* to send in the Rhinos with our artillery?"

Petra opens his mouth to say more, then just smirks at Samtara, "You know damned well what I mean, Sam." With that said, his attention is drawn back to the map when Penta mentions a damaged SAM site still live, then lightly shakes his head, "I'll check with the wing reports. Depending on where it is, we might, and this is a BIG might, be able to shell it from orbit. If not, it may be necessary to adjust the landing zone or adjust the staging of the strike plan to hit that one site again before the Rhinos come in. We adjust." He pauses again, "The Wing's Raptor and Predator pilots were pretty beat up. I don't know yet who all we have to spare. They SHOULD be getting off of the deck now."

Clara nods to Penta at mention of the walkers. "That's what worries me. Do we have a plan for dealing with them?" She has no input at the moment, it seems, on the remaining SAM site.

Sam offers Petra a rather amiable smile, pleasantly amiable since Petra isn't actually going to fight her tooth, claw or possibly with the use of the brig via threat. "I know what you mean," she confirms with a nod that is equally unruffled. The logistics resume and it draws her attention back to both listening and studying the map.

Penta looks thoughtful. "We could bring down our ATGMs, but we only have a *very* limited supply and refills may not be possible."

Petra shakes his head lightly, "We aren't landing to take up residence, and we aren't starting a long protracted battle. We're here to land, hit the fortress, drag out the commander, and feel free to use every brick of C4 you can find to level that thing on the way out. We'll arrange whatever cover we can while this is going on - for the moment, we have air superiority, so we damned well are going to use it, and any Raptors and Predators we can spare will be lighting up incoming folks." He lets the rest of his breath go in a puff, then looks at Sam, "Find who you can as a crew, and see what Niamh has for a plane that can go."

Randy just…grins.

"You make it sound like a walk in the park, sir," observes the Three mildly, with a quick flick of her eyes to the TACCO. She's about to say more, but catches Randy's grin and.. loses her train of thought.

Penta eyes Randy. "When you grin like that, I worry you're crazy. Should I?"

Something in what Petra says brings an odd look to Sam's face. A first glance it's a bit of a frown followed by a look that might be deemed ruthless as she turns slightly and glances at Penta. "I'd consider it a personal favor, John, if you do your level best to blow the fortress into rubble on your way out. I'm willing to settle for large building block sized segments being blown sky high. I trust you to use your discretion, of course," and there's a sidelong glance toward the EOD and a breath that's almost a laugh. "And yours, of course, Lieutenant," she adds before she glances back at Clara and does chuckle this time. "When is it ever?" she wonders before back to Petra. "I'll find someone who can pilot it and work the fancy buttons and such. I even promise not to throw up on anyone while it's in transit."

"It's just been awhile…" Whatever that cryptic answer means…Randy gives it to Penta anyways. "But I thought you already knew I was crazy."

Petra rumbles at Clara, the corners of his mouth quirking up a little, "Reducing a problem so simple steps doesn't mean I think the steps are easy to handle. Its just a useful skill to keep things in focus." He takes a moment, then eyes the room, before offering, "What we're doing today is a message. These people down here have been subjugated and had no hope. The Skath control this planet from the top down, with their hands firmly planted up the asses of the planetary commanders. We are sending a message to this planet that there is hope to resist. By showing them the Efriki are here and there is a chance they can throw off the yolk of their oppressors. So we need to drag this commander out ALIVE…and if we can blow up the fortress, that sends a message that will persist long after we leave. Something that will remind them we were here and we kicked their asses."

Penta snickers. "It helps to get occasional confirmation." Pause. "And Colonel, challenge accepted."

"It's not even just that, sir, about sending a message. It's that, and so very much more," Sam adds as she glances around, well aware - keenly in fact - of the press of passing time. "These people don't even know that there's anyone out there who's even willing to fight for them. All these generations they've been living and dying under the control of these machines. Living in slavery as acute as the word suggests. They live and they die, by the thousands, because the machines won't let them advance beyond where they've been locked, civilization wise. What we do today is show them that it's no longer enough to live in hope so that they have hope to live. But that everything that the machines have been telling them for generations is a lie, all the way to it's rotten core, is a lie. Blow them out of the sky. Blow them to bits. Let the people there see the truth. It's a start. And sometimes that's all that hope needs. Just somewhere to start."


Knox Samtara Shay 
Bomanaire
The descent into the atmosphere shows a planet that looks a lot like Leonis. The oceans are a dazzlingly dark shade of blue. The continents look lush and green along the latitudes they are descending towards..
Mon 13/Nov/2028

The order came down for a rescue mission for a downed pilot after the CSAR Raptor was completely incapable of performing the pickup. /That/ Raptor came back with flak holes blown through so much of the canopy glass that it was missing a full twenty percent of its enclosure. The pilot barely managed to land it. Getting a Raptor into the location is impossible because it cannot land and hovering with a combat winch means that its a sitting target holding still. Basically, its suicide. So when Sam made the case to go personally the Marines didn't screw around. The needed someone to take care of the Colonel and someone who has the strength to carry multiple people if need-be. Cooper Knox drew that distinction easily enough.

Paired with two fireteams, the group landed about two miles from the closest beacon position, right at the edge of the forest. The grass was about knee high and a bit slick with dew, something Sam would have remembered well. The place still smells the same to her, too. Though 400+ years and its a planet. Drop in the bucket. The forest looks familiar and she will remember well that one of the families that frequently fed her and her partner used to live just on the other side of this forest. But gods, that was so long ago for these people. Generations have come and gone. But they were good people. It probably lingers on Sam's mind as they walk in silence through the forest, the Corporal on point using a small handheld device to point them towards the electronic beeper.

Laden with the medical gear that she carries into the field, and the folding stretchers that are ear marked for the pilot and the ECO, Sam keeps pace with the fireteam and moves through the knee high grass. The doctor is either uncharacteristically quiet or has fallen back into old habits of just keeping her thoughts to herself while on mission. She looks around, though, with a look on her face that is difficult to describe while at the same time holding something that is sad at the same time. Every once in a while she'll reach down and tug up a handful of the grass as she moves through it, examining the blades of grass before discarding them and moving on. The weight of the gear doesn't slow her, and she is glad for that, as being the slow poke in the group would absolutely not do.

The pointman leads them on through the forest as it becomes more and more dense. Eventually there is a tree somewhere within a fifteen foot radius of another trunk. Getting a Raptor inside this dense forest and the thick canopy overhead would be impossible. And even dropping a penetrator through it to winch a pilot up would have been pretty dangerous as well. No wonder Sam recalls this place being haunted, per local legend. There's low light levels down here on the ground and very few insects. The wind sounds in the trees, but only the tops. Very few birds. Its eerie. They've been moving for about twenty minutes, walking on a thick bed of pine needles, when the pointman stops and signals for people to set a defensive position. "Gunny, sir, you both may want to come on up front," he whispers into his mic. Even Samtara is wearing a full Marine combat kit, including helmet and radioset. Camera's too.

The sound that the trees make, that creaking sound that only comes from old growth forests with a canopy high enough off of the ground to cause the trees to sway, reminds Sam of her time here so many generations ago. Generations for this planet. Only two decades and change for her. Time, after all, being relative. She brushes one hand against one of the tree trunks in passing but aside from that, keeps everything contained as much as possible, squared away and battened down, to use the most applicable maritime terms. She continues forward when signaled to do so, moving as quietly as possible in the combat kit, helmet, radioset, camera, her sidearm (long since hers and not a rental). Sam casts a sidelong glance at the pointman then over to Knox then back again before she searches forward with another of those curious looks.

Coop comes up first to the pointman and follows his outstretched arm in silence. Its incredible how little noise they can make out here. Even though these aren't exactly special forces, there's just nothing. They are the bump that haunts the night out here. But Coop leans to follow the aimed hand and nods. He pats the Corporal's shoulder once and turns on the balls of his feet and gestures for Sam to move up with him. Meanwhile the other Marines come into a defensive line. Cooper leads her up towards a boxy looking metallic thing on the ground. Its on the other side of a large tree.

Cooper moves around the tree first, keeping low. He leans down and takes a knee at the object. His gloved hand moves out to touch something. That's when Sam comes around behind him and see's it. Its the ejection seat. The young Ensign is still strapped into it. His legs are completely crushed and nearly severed. There's very little blood on the ground, though. Both of his arms look much the same, though his right one is missing below the elbow. The helmet's top is completely cracked and shattered, most of the faceplate gone also. There's no doubt massive head trauma to the guy. At barely 17, his eyes are closed and he looks peaceful, though. There's a bit of blood pooled on the ground by his head, and a little leaked from his mouth, and he's deathly pale, but otherwise he looks like he is asleep.

One of the privates in that defensive line suddenly hurls, shattering the quiet. There's that pre-emptive dry heave, and then an unpleasant gurglespew as he evacuates his stomach contents into a thorny bush. The guy beside him looks pointedly away, taking a moment to scan the airspace directly above them for enemy craft.

Following in Knox's footsteps, Sam is shrugging out of her backpack as soon as she spots the ejection seat and the young ensign still strapped into it. That the first thing she does upon returning to this planet is get shot and then, equally, examine the remains of a young ensign, is not lost on the doctor. The once upon a time doctor who had no ability to show or properly channel empathy or sympathy or practically anything with 'athy' at the end of it faded a long time ago and she takes a knee beside the ensign and begins carefully disentangling the Ensign from the ejection seat so as to free him from it. "Coop, there's a body bag in my kit," she says in a quiet voice, "could you unfold it please?"

Coop flips a switch on the back of the seat and the beeper goes dark. He moves around to the other side and takes a knee while Sam begins untangling the kid from his straps. He reaches into her bag andlooks for the bodybag and finds it after a little digging. Unfolding it, he also unzips it and lays it out. Once that's done he helps get the last of the straps off and then move the crushed body to the bag. There's nothing to say for him, no words really to pass along how he feels about this. Coop is a professional but not an icebox. It will be a long time before he forgets this moment. Sam can see it in his eyes even as they load him in and get the bag zipped shut.

Unfolding the first of the two stretchers that she's carrying, Sam carefully secures the body bag to the stretcher then snaps all the supports into position and before asking one of the marines with to carry the other end. She knows that it compromises the marines ability to respond in the event of a fire fight, but much as she can carry the body on her own it would be slower that way.

Not one, but two of the marines step up and offer to take over the burden of carrying the stretcher. Their rifles are slung across their backs, and with the rest of the fireteam providing cover, they'll manage.

With the other Marines carrying the body of the Ensign, they all make their way through the forest. It takes them another 40 minutes to get to Shay because she can down a little further from her seat than they expected. But what they find is a little weird and even the pointman looks unnerved. The rest of the Marines there don't look any less disturbed by it. And the pointman swears to every single God that there was someone else there with Shay when he moved around the tree, talking to her - and then an instant later the seated figure was gone.

What they find is Shay wrapped up in her emergency blanket, the thing tucked tightly around her in the chilly air down here. She's shivering and wrapped like a burrito, but posed to be sitting up against the trunk of the tree. Above her, about thirty feet up, are the dangling straps of her parachute and some sharp branches. Given the extent of her injuries there is no way she could have climbed down or even fallen without much further injuring herself. There's no other sound, though. Just her labored breathing. "Holy shit," Coop whispers as he dashes up. "Ensign, its Gunnery Sergeant Knox." Given she grew up across the street from that voice and was over at his house constantly, she would know it anytime or anywhere. And its readily apparent that he didn't except to find -her- here. "Shay, I need you to stay focused and awake, okay?"

The parachute cord snaps and then slackens again as the wind kicks up to a gust, rustling the foliage and lifting the fabric of the chute itself. The pilot looks to be in fairly rough shape; her helmet's long gone, and one side of her head is dark with blood smeared and matted into her hair. She's shivering uncontrollably despite the blanket. And at the sound of boots snapping twigs into the forest floor; at the sudden disappearance of her friend, she whimpers. "..no. No. Where're you going, come back.." Her voice is reedy and faint, and her head begins to swim again when that familiar voice snaps her back to reality, and out of the strange dreams she's been having. "Coop? O-okay." Her head lolls forward, and she seems to sort of.. doze off.

Rushing forward, a few paces behind Coop, Sam goes to her knees beside Shay and begins to check her over, unfastening the kit from her side with one hand while she searches Shay for more than the obvious wounds. "There's another thermal blanket in my kit," she says without taking her eyes off of the pilot they've come to retrieve. "Who were you speaking to?" she wonders then addresses that same question to Coop, "Is there another pilot we need to factor in?"

The Gunny stares down at the Ensign, not even willing to touch her. He watches this girl grow up, changed diapers, babysat, told bedtime stories. Seeing her like this? Its hard on the guy. No, he isn't going to forget this day for a long time. That cold, dark knot of fear in his gut is something he's so rarely felt in a long time. "Yeah, its Uncle Coop. Just listen to me and the Doc, okay. We're going to get you home. We need to take you on a little walk first, though, okay? Just the woods like back home, okay?" He's digging through the bag to get the second thermal blanket out and the stretcher. Gogogo. "Corporal swears there was someone else sitting with her. There's nobody out here but us, though. And we'd have heard anyone making enough noise to run." he glances down to Shay, then up to her chute. "Frak me, you think she got down from that chute herself? In this shape?" He's still getting the stretcher unfolded. "Shay, where are the people that helped you?" the Marine whispers.

"..said you wouldn't leave, Penny. Penny like the coin, cubit for your thoughts.." She may or may not be hearing what Knox is saying; it's mental stream of consciousness nonsense, pieced together from disjoint conversations and bits of dreamstuff, and quite possibly her own imagination. But someone wrapped her in that blanket. Someone got her down from her chute, whose lines are still tangled maybe fifteen, twenty feet up. "Unca Coop, where's my mom?" Her pale blue eyes drift open, the left completely bloodshot, and she seems to stare right through him like she's searching for something juuuust over his shoulder. "..head hurts."

With careful and gentle hands, Sam catalogs Shay's injuries, making a mental roster and already having triaged which needs attention most. "It's imperative that we get her back to sickbay as swiftly as possible," she murmurs in a quiet side to Coop. At his questions she glances up as well, looking up at the tree then the chute and then back down to shake her head at Coop. "Without falling along the way? I don't know. But these woods," she pauses then waits out a moment of memories strong enough to make her voice uneven, "the people that I knew a very long time ago used to say that these woods were haunted." Shay's words have the doctor falling silent before her expression again conveys the depth of how worried she is. "We need to get her moving, Coop," she murmurs then back to Shay. "We're going to wrap another blanket around you, and then we're going to move you nice and slow to lay down on the stretcher that Coop has unfolded just for you. Nice and slow," she repeats, ready to help Shay move.

Penny. Its been a long time since he's heard that name. But it could be a different Penny. It has to be. There's a furtive look given to Sam, then back to Shay. While she looks through him and his shoulder, he stares into her eyes. "Your mom is at home and probably planning to murder the person who smacked your bird." Since he has all the super skinjob strength, he very carefully lifts her torso and head, getting the heavier bits of the woman over and lain onto the stretcher once Sam is ready. "I'm not going to waste any time, Doctor. We can't lose her." Samtara can see that there's a lot of personal attachment there, too. Its one thing to fight alongside your wife and have that quiet agreement to the risk. But this is different. He signals for two more Marines to come over, "Shay, who is Penny? What was she talking to you about?" He's going to want them on stretcher detail.

Shay really ought to lay off pasta fridays in the mess hall. She's wrapped up in a second, warmer blanket and hoisted up onto the stretcher. And she snags Coop's eyes with her own, in those brief few moments where he's holding her. "Tell her I love her. Tell my dad I'm sorry.." The slight jostling aggravates her injured arm, and her teeth grind together as she tries to stave off the dull pain. It's so hard to stay awake. "Kappa," she murmurs, barely audible. "She tells good stories. Like the time she got sprayed by a skunk on leave.. drunk as a skunk.." the pilot giggles softly, and her head rolls to the side, flopping against Knox's shoulder.

As soon as Coop has Shay gently settled on the stretcher, Sam is tucking the extra layer of thermal blanket around the young pilot and is swiftly immobilizing the injured arm to make sure that she's minimizing the amount of pain the pilot is in and going to be in between now and the recovery ward. Fastening the safety webbing around her to make sure that she's secured, and that she's adept at working the webbing is no surprise, it isn't the first - and not now the last - time she's used a stretcher like this. "Shay, I'm worried about your head and your neck. I'm going to fasten a strip of this safety harness across your forehead so that your head doesn't move. We have you, and your uncle and I and these these marines are going to get you back to the ship. Just stay with us, stay awake." This said as she pulls the random thread of the conversation and frowns over Shay to Coop, "Kappa? Wasn't there a marine, in the last war I mean, that was called that?"

"I'm not telling your mom that you love her. She knows that. And if you tried to apologize to your dad I'm pretty sure he'd look at you sternly. We'll get you home, hon." When she's lain down and he hears her relate the name and the point about the skunk, he just stares at her. "That's not possible," he whispers before suddenly turning on the balls of his feet. He looks out into the woods, looking a little pale himself. He stares, searching every single tree for something. Anything. Then the tree Shay was leaned against, for any kind of sign from Kappa. He wheels back around to look at the Ensign while they fasten her head down. "Yeah," Coop whispers, glancing up. "Last engagement she threw herself on a grenade to save her best friend and my wife. There's no way she could know that name." Once the Marines get her secured to the stretcher he rests a hand on her shoulder. "Keep talking Shay. I want you to tell me what else Penny said or what she was wearing? Did Penny help you get down from the tree?"

Once her arm is stabilised, Shay's jaws slowly pry themselves apart. The hand itself is not in great shape, but it looks like nothing was severed; it's mostly a flesh wound. She's a little less pleased, though, with having her head strapped down to the board by one of the marines, and twists away a couple of times before he manages to settle her enough to fasten the strap in place. "What happened?" she thinks to ask, finally. "I was gonna request an RTB.. guess I blacked out.. where's Kappa? Where is she?" Her pale eyes are glossy with tears, and a little bit frantic in between fighting the urge to drift shut. She thinks hard, trying to focus. Trying to answer the question. "Green and brown camo, a vest over top.. not like yours. Carrying.. carrying an SMI eighty." She's really struggling to stay awake now; the jostling might have caused her to lose more blood, or simply aggravated the head injury.

As determined as Coop is to get Shay home, Sam is equally determined to NOT have to tell Shay's parents that they weren't able to get her safely off this planet. While Coop is looking out into the woods, searching around, she is checking the safety webbing one more time and then turning to pack up the kit she'd opened and shrugs the backpack into place once more. "Ahh," is murmured as she shares a nod with the marine that helps secure Shay. "Coop, we have to move. I'm sorry," she adds as she turns from Shay to look around, searching among the trees then back again, checking the body bag that is attached to the other stretcher then doubling back to stand alongside the one that Shay is on. "Keep talking, Shay, I need you to keep your eyes open, just stay with us."

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