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Post by Wedge Lourde on Jul 4, 2005 12:46:23 GMT -5
"All MechWarriors - report to your 'Mechs. We deploy in thirty minutes."
"Sam, did you get that? Our time goes from 25 to 55. You heard the man. We have 30 minutes untill we deploy."
"Yes sir. Don't forget to reattach the power cuppling to the standard Generator." He said, aholding a welding torch. I selected the 'online' option, and contined my welding.
"Contine working, I need to hear from 2 from my lance."
"Sir.
"Corporal Taylor, this is Lourde. We have about 30 minutes untill Echo and Spectre deploy. If your 'mech need repairs, get them done now. Also, make sure Josef is ready to go. Holms is at the bridge right now if you need him."
"Yes sir. I'll be ready to go.
[glow=green,2,300] - 26 minutes later - [/glow]
"Sir, the PPC is attached and ready. Testing... now."
The briliant glow illuminated the otherwise dimly-lit 'mech bay. The glow died, then a briliant 30' stream of blue electroplasma shot out of the open bay doors.
"Generator operating at 96% and rising. Your 'mech is ready, and the Ammunition is re-stocked."
"Thank you. I'll mention your good work to the Captain. Good work."
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Post by Lance Commander Marcus Taylor on Jul 4, 2005 13:34:16 GMT -5
I climbed down from my mech and looked around. A tech came up to me.
Corporal, you said you were having trouble earlier, what can I do for you?
My Nav Computer is acting funny, it's orientation is off. Might be messing with my targeting computer too the way it's acting.
I'll get right on it, should be a simple software glitch, else we can change the boards out in about 15 minutes and have you ready to go.
Thank you.
The tech used his radio and called for another tech. Then, he scrambled up into the cockpit where I could hear him starting to seek the origin of the problem. For what I saw during the battle with the fighters, there was a fierce sandstorm of sort going on and it would be easy to lose track without the aid of a navigation computer, even for me.
I looked about for my Lance Leader and then it hit me. He had gone after Schuster when his mech fell from the Dropship. He chose to go on his own will, but I felt the desire to feel ashamed that the first combat engagment I had with him, he was now missing.
Why? I should have gone, not him...I've never lost a Lance Leader and now in my first outing with this unit, I've lost one. Damnit!
I felt the anger well up inside of me. I felt like an outsider in my own unit. Now, I'm a failure as well. I bellowed in anger at the top of my lungs and glared at everyone that had turned to look at me.
I felt ashamed. I stormed out of the Mech Bay to the Mess Hall.
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Post by Holms Net on Jul 4, 2005 15:04:09 GMT -5
The howling wind outside was near unbearable as we landed. With the DropShip's thrusters pushed hard to land in this, there was a mix of enough loud noise to blow anyone's eardrums had they not been in a room as we were in.
The landing was rough, but nothing as bad as a crash landing. Although there might have been minimal damage to the Liberty, I suspected everything to still be in working condition.
After the thoughts of sound and the technical gibberish of the DropShip's damage, I reminded myself of the mission. The order had been to get to the 'Mechs. I had been sitting in the chair after landing for about 5 minutes, immune to the orders being called out to the crewman from Captain Maxwell, trying to get everything ready for the launch. I stood up and moved out to the 'Mech Bay, hopefully finding some of the Mechwarriors within Spectre lance I could talk to before the launch.
Fortunatly, it didn't take long to find one. As I left the lift to head back towards the 'Mech bay, I noticed Corporal Marcus Taylor of Spectre Lance walking towards the cafeteria, almost looking flustered and worn out. As I jogged over to him, he turned his head to look up and glance at who was approaching.
"Hey, there! What's up, you look half angry and half sad here?"
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Post by Lieutenant Kei-teh Kintaru on Jul 4, 2005 16:02:32 GMT -5
I sat in my mech, my head buried into my hands. Schuster AND Garland had fallen out of the Liberty. I was angered that I didn’t help them in their time of need… But I couldn’t. The fight with the aerotech fighters was too fierce. If I had gone to save them, the crew of the Liberty would have had one less pilot to aid them. My hackman had taken very little damage in the fight… I was very lucky. Too lucky. Fate had once again conspired to save ME and not my comrades. It happened nine years ago in my home village… it happened to the crew of the Thorin… and now its happened again, the same vicious cycle. Was this some sort of divine intervention?! Am I saved for a higher purpose?
My eyes widened and the sounds of the Liberty filled the cockpit. Everything in my mind clicked into place.
“I am a warrior… brought into this universe to protect the weak and help those in need.” I said to myself rising from my cockpit chair as the canopy opened.
“Garland… Schuster… we WILL find you.”
My thoughts of despair and self pity left my heart. I knew what was right now. And more importantly… I knew my purpose.
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Post by Lance Commander Marcus Taylor on Jul 4, 2005 16:18:04 GMT -5
Hey, there! What's up, you look half angry and half sad here?
I looked up to see Sgt. Holms Net, another pilot from my lance. It was perhaps the first informal meeting I've ever had with another Legionnaire, in my mind, I didn't want it to be the last.
Sergeant, I'm just fustrated. Here I am in a new unit, pretty much the outsider and now in my first showing in a combat situation...I failed to protect my Lance Leader. ME...Marcus Taylor, someone that had been among the chosen to be part of an escort lance to a unit commander.
I sighed.
Now where do I stand? The guy that just blew protecting the very person I've always sworn to protect?
Sgt. Holms Net looked at me for a moment and I could only wonder what he was about to say.
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Post by Holms Net on Jul 4, 2005 16:41:51 GMT -5
Now where do I stand? The guy that just blew protecting the very person I've always sworn to protect?
I was caught off guard, and did not honestly know what to say. However, I had been with the Legionnaires since their first Op, and although I had missed the second Op due to the fact I was away, I still knew the Legionnaires well. Marcus was still a guy set on doing his job, and I wasn't going to say he was wrong thinking that way, because he honestly could be right. But leaving a fellow mercenary like this would not be something I would do, nor would I allow the Commander to die.
"Well, in the time I've been with the Legionnaires, there has got to be one thing above the rest I've learned... well, ok, I say that about everything I've learned, but let's put it this way; if a Legionnaire is going to die, he's going to go down with honor. These scumbag pirates that attacked the Pheonix have no honor, and this planet of tribal villages and such carry little honor in themselves, if they are anything like I've learned to see on these types of planets. No Legionnaire is going to die while there is still a mission to be done, not if rain still falls from the sky and the Legionnaires still bear the symbol of the clan. So, let's go find ourselves our missing Commander, shall we?"
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Post by Dr. Jessica Saturina on Jul 4, 2005 17:41:37 GMT -5
I was still sitting on the bridge in a chair along the back wall. I had heard Captain Maxwell give the order for all to go to their Mechs and get ready. My mind was spinning. Filled with thoughts of Schuster and Garland. Watching helplessly as they both fell to the planet below. I knew everyone probably wanted to do something. Go after them, something, anything, but we all knew it would have just made things worse. Now we must all ready for battle. All I could think of is them. Are they ok, did they make it, are they hurt, are they even alive. The thoughts just kept spinning around in my mind. I was suddenly snapped out of my deep thoughts by a deep voice.
Lt. Mamba, what are you still doing here on the bridge? Did you not here my orders?
I looked into the face of the deep voice. It was Captain Maxwell. The look on my face must have conveyed what I was thinking and feeling to him. He spoke again.
Mamba, I know what you must be thinking. We are all thinking of them. Trust me, we will not ignore this situation, but at this moment we have a duty to perform. You need to get yourself together, go to your mech and be ready for anything.
I blinked back the emotion that was stirring inside me. I stood up, snapped a salute to the Captain.
Yes Sir, I understand Sir.
He returned my salute. I quickly walked from the bridge, taking the lift to the mech bay. Climbing into my mech doing a systems check. Ok Big guy it's time to rock and roll. Then I sat quietly awaiting the next orders. Letting my mind think only of the task at hand.
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Post by Lance Commander Marcus Taylor on Jul 4, 2005 19:08:10 GMT -5
Well, in the time I've been with the Legionnaires, there has got to be one thing above the rest I've learned... well, ok, I say that about everything I've learned, but let's put it this way; if a Legionnaire is going to die, he's going to go down with honor. These scumbag pirates that attacked the Pheonix have no honor, and this planet of tribal villages and such carry little honor in themselves, if they are anything like I've learned to see on these types of planets. No Legionnaire is going to die while there is still a mission to be done, not if rain still falls from the sky and the Legionnaires still bear the symbol of the clan. So, let's go find ourselves our missing Commander, shall we?
I paused for a moment and thought about what the Sargeant had said. I'm not sure if he was trying to cheer me up or simply trying to keep a flicker of hope in himself. Regardless, it seemed he was my Lance Leader for the time being.
Yes Sargeant. Let's go find our Lance Commander. If anything, he deserves a proper burial. If he's still alive though, it's our duty to see him back safely.
I decided to forgo the Mess Hall and pulled an energy bar from my pocket.
Let's just hope this mission isn't FUBAR already...
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Post by Wedge Lourde on Jul 4, 2005 20:53:53 GMT -5
Josef, Holms, and Taylor all stepped into their 'mechs.
"This is Spectre-2- report in."
"Spectre-3 ready to go-repairs complete."
"Spectre-4 re-fuled, restocked."
"Spectre-5 ready for action."
"Alright then. It's time to find the Lieutennant Commander. Wherever he is..."
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Post by Captain Benjamin Maxwell on Jul 5, 2005 12:18:05 GMT -5
As the DropShip’s doors cycled open, I squinted into the maelstrom which raged just beyond the protective ferrosteel shell of the Liberty. Though the storm was not nearly as intense at ground level, it was still active enough that I was thankful to be within the dark confines of a BattleMech. The techs had somehow found the time to generate a comprehensive computer-enhanced topographical HUD display of the area in the scant thirty minutes’ notice given to them, and it now displayed as a blue-green wireframe, overlaid on the landscape before me. It would serve as the only true means of navigation available to me until the storm passed.
I throttled my Hellhound into a trot, and moved down the vessel’s gantry to the half-frozen desert below. Though this world was comprised mostly of sandy wastelands, it was by no means a tropical paradise. Here, on the equator, lay the only regions to ever experience temperatures above freezing, and even they were nearly inhospitable. My cabin heater kicked on as the temperature outside my ‘Mech began to fall.
Bringing the Hellhound to a halt, I pivoted the BattleMech’s torso to see the elements of Echo and Spectre lances falling in behind me, appearing in silhouette against the raging sandstorm. My HUD projected CGI tags above each ‘Mech’s cockpit, that identified each BattleMech and its pilot. I toggled open the general comm, so I could speak to both lances simultaneously.
”Ladies and gentlemen – welcome to Hamal. We are currently three point-oh-five kilometers out from the crash site of the Phoenix, which lies to the southeast of our present location. The elements of Echo lance, including myself, will be vectoring toward the vessel, which we will secure once we’ve assessed the situation. Spectre lance – your task will be to divide into pairs, and sweep the area for Sergeant Garland and Corporal Schuster’s BattleMechs. Alex, I'd also like you to run escort for Holms Net, since his Raven is lightly armed. We’ve triangulated their probable landing sites based on their last known trajectories, and as such, we’ve been able to narrow your field of search down. This data has been uploaded to your nav computers. Once you’ve located them, you will need to assess their condition, calling in salvage and support vehicles as necessary. The Liberty is equipped with an MIT-23 M*A*S*H ambulance, as well as a fully-equipped salvage rig.
“Pray that you won’t need either.”
I saw several BattleMechs shift uncomfortably, and I knew that my words had hit home with almost everyone.
”You are all authorized to use whatever force is necessary to eliminate any hostiles you may encounter during this operation. Hamal is largely a lawless world, dominated by bandits and raiders who will not hesitate to kill you on sight for your technology. Protect yourselves, and each other.
“Meteorological scans of the planet indicate this storm will be passing in approximately 90 minutes. Unfortunately, we don’t have that kind of time. Be careful, but mind the mission clock. Time is of the essence.
“Are there any questions?”
My comm unit hissed with static. I knew that everyone was ready to get underway, and that no one had any misconceptions about what this mission was about.
”Very well. Let’s move out!
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Post by Wedge Lourde on Jul 5, 2005 13:18:12 GMT -5
" Very Well. Let's move out!"
Taylor and I watched as Josef and Net walked away in their 'mechs.
"Yeoman Machia, can you give me the last known location of Schutser's Shadow Cat?"
"Yes, Sergeant. Uploading as Nav Beta. I can't garuntee anything, though..."
"Taylor-did you get that? Nav Beta. 300 Degrees Northwest."
"Yes sir. Let's move.
"Form Up on Me."
My Uziel and his Bushwacker walked into the dust of the frozen arctic.
And so it begins...
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MechWarrior Alex Thorn
Regular
LEGIONNAIRES
"I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat." - Winston Churchill
Posts: 176
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Post by MechWarrior Alex Thorn on Jul 5, 2005 13:24:52 GMT -5
The words from the captain made me uncomfortable. I shifted in my cockpit. This task wasnt going to be easy. I didnt know who had it easier. Those of us in Echo lance which had the task of finding the vessel or those in Spectre who had to find the two missing MechWarriors.
I set my 'Mech in a trot behind the captain. I kept radio silence. I really didnt have much to say. I had only been with the Legionnaires a few weeks and already I felt like I had lost family. The radio broke the silence.
"I need a third 'Mech."
It was Holms. I couldnt blame him. His 'Mech was so lightly armed he would need the extra help. Then the radio crackled again.
"Alex. Why dont you go and help Holms. You two know each other so you may be able to work together better."
It was the captain. I nodded my head.
"Copy."
I then headed to the NAV point that was indicated as Holms location.
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Post by Dr. Jessica Saturina on Jul 5, 2005 14:49:25 GMT -5
After leaving the mech bay, I stood outside with the other mechs as the Captain spoke to us, giving us our assignments. I felt dejected. I had wanted to go looking for Schuster and Garland, but I was confident the Captain knew what was best. I set my Grim Reaper in a fast walk behind the Captain. We were moving in the direction of the Phoenix. We had no idea what we would find there. I hoped we would still be able to rescue some of its crew. At this point things didn't look promising. All we could do for now is just get there. Time was of the essence. It would be nice if the storm would let up, but it wasn't real bad. All of Echo lance followed the Captain in silence until I heard the comm come on and Alex ask a question.
"Echo-4 to Echo-1. Captain. Why would someone bring the vessel here? What could they be hiding?"
I wasn't sure what asking that question would do, but I'm sure he had his reasons for asking it. I sat silently in my mech wondering what the Captains response would be, but mostly just concentrating on the task ahead of us.
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Post by Lieutenant Kei-teh Kintaru on Jul 5, 2005 15:01:27 GMT -5
”Very well. Let’s move out!”
The deadly cold winds of this backwards world howled at us as our lances split and moved into their respective formations. As we throttled up and began our search for the Phoenix, I couldn’t help but feel perplexed at how odd this all seemed. A “freezing” desert planet… I soon felt ashamed of myself; there was the Phoenix crew to save and two of our men were missing in action… and all were feared… I couldn’t think it. Although I was fully accustomed to the word “death” I still didn’t like to associate it as a feeling I could take for granted. No. They HAD to be alive.
The weather conditions weren’t helping our navigations. The frozen sand that had been kicked up by the insane storm was near blinding us as Echo Lance edged forward, following Maxwell. We carried on our travels finding more of the same on the way. Nothing. Things so far things weren’t looking good.
“Echo lance, halt!” Maxwell said excitedly. The entire lance came to a stand still. After a few seconds of pause Ben’s voice came over the comms again.
“I think you should have a look at this.” He replied sounding uneasy. Our monitors flashed on, switching to the Captains camera feed that he was broadcasting. The zoomed in and focused on a large sheet of burnt, rugged metal. The metal, half buried in sand and ice, showed a picture of a mythical bird with it’s wings spread. Underneath the picture read the words “The Phoenix”. Ringed around the entire emblem read “Take us into the heavens on wings of fire.”. The Phoenix had certainly flown on wings of fire, as seen by the large black scorch marks that had licked themselves around the twisted sheet of metal. Hopefully the crew hadn’t been sent to the heavens. Things were looking grim for the crew of the mighty vessel. However we had to press on. However, some good came of this. The metal sheet did indicate that we were going in the right direction.
“Lets just hope we get a positive result from this search…” I muttered to myself. We moved out with the Captain’s order and carried on our trek. As soon as we began to move, the harsh storm that had enveloped our blinded squad fluttered out of existence. With one last harsh blow, the winds became a light breeze and the sand settled into the ground from which they came. As the dust and sand fell, and the clouds began to part, they revealed a beautiful sun that appeared blue over the horizon. It was a ball of glowing blue ice that changed this rugged and harsh environment into something pristine. And as I gazed into this scene of magnificence a felt all fears wash away from me. All anxieties were gone. All doubt had completely disappeared.
My feelings were then destroyed by the horrid sight of a mangled ship that laid smoking. Like a sore thumb it seemed so out of place. My heart was in my throat as the entire lance fell into a gradual halt. Roughly half a mile in front of us laid the final resting place of the Phoenix. Without being told, the everyone rushed towards the site. My hackman had out ran them as I pushed ahead, desperate to make a report on the condition of the ship. As the Phoenix came closer to me I was filled with joy as I saw people standing outside. Survivors!
“We have confirmed survivors! Repeat! We have--”
As I began to report my findings my mech was struck by an explosive weapon. This had been fired by the very people I was rushing to save. I was shocked, I wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. My hackman, though lightly damaged, fell to the ground. The blast had caused me to misplace my footing. As I looked up through the cockpit window I was filled with absolute horror. These people were not the members of the Phoenix. They wore rough clothing and shouted at each other in a barbaric language. They were raiders. My head was pounding, I had hit it off the instruments that lay in front of me. Although I was buckled into the seat, the hackman’s cockpit proved small in comparison to my late Catapult and NightStar I had acquired back in my first operation with the Legionnaires. A group of nine raiders stood outside a makeshift entrance passing stolen supplies onto what appeared to be a primitive truck. The rear end of the truck was filled to the brim with food, technology and medical supplies from the Phoenix. One of the grunts began reloading an ancient looking bazooka; the very weapon that had caused my fall. As he took aim the rest of his group piled onto the truck to make an escape. I was within 50 yards of these fiendish people and with my cockpit in the sights of the explosive weapon, I knew that this could be it…
The raider was completely taken by surprise as Mamba’s medium lasers melted the grunt into a disgusting pile of charred goo. The bazooka exploded due to the intense heat, smothering the raiders’ companions in exceedingly, scolding hot liquid flesh as the truck failed to start. The ignition clicked over many times, sending the driver insane with fear as the rest of Echo Lance moved forward for the kill. The remaining eight raiders that were piled on the back of the truck rummaged around for primitive ballistic guns. Once they found them, flicked the safety off and placed a round into the chamber of their weapons, the raiders put them in to good, though futile, use. The rounds bounced off Mamba’s armour as the foot of her mighty Grim Reaper smashed the truck, and it’s crew, into non-existence. With a satisfying crunch, the Grim Reaper twisted the raider’s into the ground and walked off to meet with the rest of the team. I had managed to pick myself off the ground as they crowded around me.
“Kintaru, are you ok?” a concerned Mamba said over the mic.
“I’m fine... But what about the Phoenix crew?”
“We are going to investigate. Let's move in and search for survivors…” Maxwell said. He had sounded doubtful in what he said… and rightfully so. The Phoenix had split into three, god awful pieces of mess. The rear section of the ship was completely ruined beyond repair. The engines appeared to have exploded from extreme and ill proper use. This section was a horribly burnt wreck. If anyone had been there at the time they surely would have died. The mid section of the ship looked more positive. Although it had completely detached itself from the stern of the vessel, it still remained heavily intact. However, it had taken its fair share of “beatings”. The bow of the vessel equally appeared to be in the same condition of the midsection of the Phoenix, if not better. The bow and midsection were fairly close to each other in proximity, while the stern was roughly 70 yards away from the rest of the wreckage. From what I could tell, the vessel’s engines exploded as they began to land in the horrible weather conditions and broke off, brining the stern with it. The bow and midsection continued its fall and crashed landed onto a bed frozen sand, cushioning it to some degree. The bow broke away from the midsection as soon as they mad contact with the ground, and slid another 20 yards forward until it finally stopped.
As I powered down my 'Mech, its actuators automatically positioned it in a 'crouch' position. The cockpit fell silent as the massive fires deep within the Hackman's heart were subdued. An icy cold blast of air whipped through the cockpit as I popped the hatch, and stepped out of my mech, the cold temperatures wrapping around me as I stared at the wreckage. Doubt filled my heart.
As Mamba came to stand beside me, I radioed Captain Maxwell, who was jockying his 'Mech into a parking position.
“Sir… can you do a heat scan of the two closest sections?”
“It probably wont pick up much… those sections would have been cooled by the freezing storm.” his voice crackled, with little enthusiasm in his tone. I knew that wasn’t the reason he was reluctant to do so… but it was worth a try.
A long silence passed as the harsh whispers of the wind filled my ice cold ears, along with radio static.
“…There is a grouped heat source in the midsection Kintaru… it appears to be coming from--”
“The mech bay…”I said noticing the bay doors were open. No. They were missing. Blasted out perhaps?. Mamba and I approached the hanger with caution… there could still be raiders hiding in the shadows. The Mechwarrior filled the dimly lit bay with light. Our hearts stopped as a figure of a man could be seen…
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Post by Lance Commander Marcus Taylor on Jul 5, 2005 18:30:56 GMT -5
Form up on me.
I ran a systems check once more to make sure that my Navigation Computer was in fact re-calibrated correctly and not sending me off in the wrong direction.
After a few reference checks, I had determined that I was on course and the computer was functioning properly.
Aff. Spectre-4 reporting all systems are reading normal.
Just like old times eh Wedge? I kinda miss Commander Wayne.
Me too, Taylor. Me too.
Let's find Cpl Schuster then shall we?
Roger that.
Our mechs pounded across the desert terrain as the visibility degraded to where we could only see about 500 yards or so. The storm was bad enough that even if we did manage to locate Schuster, a VTOL wouldn't be able to fly in this weather.
We'll probably need a salvage rig.
Spectre-3, this is Spectre-4. Visibility is degrading to roughly 500 yards and my sensors are acting a little goofy from all the interference. You getting anything?
Negative Spectre-4, I'm catching the same kind of interference, so it's not just you. This storm is pretty bad.
Wait...I think I'm getting a hit on something.
We adjusted our course a little as we movoed to investigate the sensor "hit" that Wedge was picking up.
Moments later, my sensors began getting a similar "hit" in the same area that Wedge was.
Spectre-3, I'm getting something as well in my scanners in the same area you are. However, I'm not picking anything else up in the area.
Roger that Spectre-4. 1 kilometer and closing. It's stationary, so whatever it is, I don't think it's hostile.
As we closed in on visual range, we saw Schuster's Shadow Cat in a pretty grisly situation. However, there was no sign of him anywhere.
Spectre-3, this is Spectre-4. Call in a salvage rig, a VTOL won't make it in this storm. I'm getting out and take a looksie. Cover me would ya?
Aff. Spectre-4, calling in the salvage rig now. I've got your back.
I brought my Bushwacker within a 20 yards of the Schuster's mech before I exited and climbed down.
I drew my weapon and investigated the cockpit only to see some blood spatter and nothing else. The storm had covered any tracks that might have been left behind, erasing any clues as to where Schuster might be.
Spectre-3, this is Spectre-4. I don't see any sign of Cpl. Schuster anywhere. There doesn't seem to be any sign of where he might have went, but at this point I don't think he's dead. There's only minimal amounts of blood in the cockpit and his harness was torn up pretty badly.
Aff. Spectre-4. The salvage rig is enroute, see if you can determine anything else. I'll radio in and let them know that at this point we think he's still alive.
Aff. Spectre-3.
Maybe my Lance Commander lived as well.
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