"FORGOTTEN"
Jun. 17th, 2013 11:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ginbeanType time: 30 minutes. Sooooooo un-betaed...
"GRAAARGH!"
The hiss of a Biofoam can echoes in the precious silence of their shelter before fading back into quiet. With a grunt, Oregon yanks the can out of the crater that used to be his chest plate and throws it aside. Her helmet is masking her expression, but he can see her fingers tremble as her hand reaches out and steadies him as he thrashes while the foam settles. 5 seconds... 7 seconds... he watches the clock inside his HUD count down the seconds until the numbing agent sets in. Once it does, he lets out a slow, ginger breath. Yeah, okay, he can do this.
"Jesus, Ho. You really know how to get shot." Georgia remarks bluntly, her voice soft as she keeps watch over the door. Rifle held tightly against her body, she's tense. They all are. It was supposed to be a simple data retrieval mission. Slip in, download the program and slip back out. They just didn't expect the security reaction.
"What can I..." He wheezed as a large part of his upper torso struggled to cooperate with his mental signals. "... say? Gotta be good at... something besides... out driving you losers...."
"Shut up, Jordan." Oregon growls as her visor winks slightly in the darkness. She's checking his vitals, he's sure of it. "How are you feeling? The Biofoam should have numbed everything by now."
"Doing... fine..." He gasps and tries to sit up to prove it. For some reason, his chest gives a very strange twinge at that even though everything from the neck down should be cold. The catch in his voice gives him away and her hand on his shoulder tightens.
"... your vitals look steady but..."
"Must be getting old." He replies, forcing the words out steadily even though it leaves him breathless to do it. He can't afford to have her worrying about him, not while they're still neck deep in shit. "Don't worry about it. Let's get-" his voice pauses and he draws in a deep breath, even though it causes another twinge. "-going. Before the Director sends Carolina or something." The joke is breathless but cheerful. Oregon pauses another moment, then gives a brief nod and steps back to help him up.
On his feet, his vision sways for a moment before everything settles. Good, he thinks to himself and resettles his helmet on his head, locking it in place.
"Any time gramps." Georgia throws in, voice sarcastically light as she shifts from side to side, still eying the hall past the door. She's got the entrance open only a sliver, but it's enough to make them all edgy. With a grunt of exertion, he reaches over his should and pulls the DMR off his back while Oregon brings up the map they have of the base.
"100 yards to the motorpool. Georgia and I will draw fire, Jordan you-"
"Hotwire a hog and pick you ladies up." He cuts in, forcing a cheeky note into his voice. "You act like I've never been your chauffeur." She gives him a playful shove and he laughs.
But he still feels uneasy.
---
Georgia opens the ceremony with a few lobbed grenades. As shrapnel and soldiers go flying, Oregon opens fire with an assault rifle and cripples another handful. In the midst of the chaos, Idaho creeps around the back as quickly as he can, finger on the trigger and gun butt nestled against his side. When a hostile rounds the corner, it takes 7 shots to down him for good and each recoil makes him wince. His arm is getting weak and it's throwing off his aim. Not a good sign. Picking up speed till he's just shy of a sprint, he rounds the corner to the vehicles and picks the one closest to the shadows before getting to work.
A long time ago he learned that worrying about being shot while fucking with wires under the hood was detrimental to his efforts. It slowed him down, distracted him, made him slip up... the Counselor had finally solved that problem by designating him "required partners." People he subconsciously knew would check his back while he worked and it did wonders to soothe his nerves. Carolina was one of them, Colorado another. North had been one (until Idaho had met South) and the last...
When he heard the soft scuff of boots behind him, his heart continued to beat steadily as his fingers deftly worked the wires. One step, two steps, three... and the sudden crack of a sniper rifle as a pained gurgle sounded at his back before the thud of a body hitting the ground echoed in his helmet.
"Thanks Ducky." Idaho murmured into the comm with a grin.
"Don't call me that." Oregon replied automatically as he sparked one wire against the other and heard the engine purr to life.
"I'm on my way."
---
The bounce of the hog as the wheels hit dirt again made his chest give another painful twinge as he swung to avoid an incoming string of bullets from a hornet.
"14 miles till the rendezvous point!" Oregon yelled as she bounced bullets off the VTOL's glass. Georgia, on the gun, swung around to unleash a hail of rounds in tandem. As they sped past the offensive flier, Idaho saw a burst of flame in the corner of his eye and an echoing crash moments later.
"One down, 16 more to go." Georgia grunted with grim amusement as she swiveled again and opened fire once more. Her motion sensor was making her edgy, they were practically surrounded by red dots. As Idaho gave another sharp turn, just once millimeter shy of flipping them, Georgia yelled as her aim went askew. "Is it too hard to ask you to drive straight!?" It was a customary rebuttal, practically a tradition on their shared missions.
Idaho staying quiet, was not.
Unbeknownst to either of them, his vision was starting to go gray. His head felt dizzy and light, his body detached and far away. For half a second his head tipped forward and they swerved, as if they were being driven by a drunk man.
"Jordan!" Oregon yelled as she pulled in and reached across the seat to grab the wheel and jerked it towards herself before they veered off a ditch.
Jerking upright, Idaho banged his head on the back seat as he gripped the wheel more tightly. "Sorry! Sorry, I..." He blinked, slowly. Her voice had sounded so... muted. What was this buzzing in his ears...?
"Focus you fuckface!" Georgia yelled at him over the wind as bullets zipped past her head, chipping parts of the warthog and embedding themselves in the frame. But Idaho didn't hear her because he had finally noticed the sensation of something cool on his gut.
Oh.
"Dakota, Georgia, hold on." He murmured faintly. If it weren't for the radio link between their helmets, they never would have heard him. With a reflexive tightening grip on the Warthog's frame, Oregon snapped her head towards him immediately.
"Jordan, what are you- JESUS!" She swore as the Warthog suddenly swerved so sharp that one half of the wheels left the ground for the second. Leaving the road and diving straight into the trees, the jeep bounced and slammed into the dirt over and over as a string of curses left Georgia's mouth.
"WHAT. THE HELL. ARE YOU DO- OH MY GOD NO THAT'S A RAVINE YOU FUCKING DUMBASS DON'T-!!"
And slamming his foot on the accelerator, Idaho careened them into the air. Was it a chance? Yes, it was a chance, but he didn't have much of a choice left. Neither Georgia nor Dakota knew how to drive stick.
For one beautiful moment they arced through the air, clinging to the vehicle for dear life... before the front end slammed into ground and rolled throwing all three of them out of the vehicle. If it hadn't been for their armor, they'd have gotten a lot more than some broken bones and a few bruises. With a soft curse, Georgia picked herself up and looked around as her arm gave a funny popping sound. It was the LZ.
"... and what," she began, pissed, as she got to her feet and swore as her arm swung at an awkward angle. "The hell. Was wrong with the original route?" Limping her way across the ground, she reached up with her good arm and hit the button for the comm link. "FILSS. We're here."
"Pelican en route, Agent Georgia."
"Ow..." Oregon's voice cut across as she began to move, her bright blue armor almost indistinguishable with how much mud covered it. She'd had the minor luck to land in a small pond. As she slowly began to get to her feet, it dripped off her in almost sheets of guck as she picked her way out towards Georgia. "You okay?" She began, slightly winded but otherwise none the worse for wear.
"No. Where's Idaho? I'm gonna kill him." She snarled, looking this way and that for that one bright spot of khaki colored armor. As the rumble of a far off Pelican echoed in the distance, she finally spotted it a little ways off from the Warthog where it lay upside down, one wheel still spinning. "Crazy motherfucking... Idaho, if you're dead I'll fucking resurrect your ass and then kill you again." She snarled as she started to make her way over there before Oregon put her arm over her shoulder and supported her bad side. As the approached the still form, it was only after a moment of silence had passed that they began to feel concern.
"Jordan?" Oregon murmured.
He didn't move.
---
"... Agent Idaho's armor prevented the bullet from fully piercing his heart, but I'm afraid the position was very... tentative, to begin with. In this case, the BIofoam locked it in place against the organ and the continuous pressure caused by your journey from the enemy's base to the LZ pushed it in further. I have no doubt that Agent Idaho realized this at some point, which is when he chose to make that leap of faith. As you can imagine, the resulting moment of impact sealed his fate."
---
She didn't care about the specifics.
Didn't care about the hows or whys.
As the doctors took away his body, covered in a white sheet that became stained with the blood that was seeping out of his chest piece, all she could focus on was the blood on her hands. The blood that had come from trying to perform CPR on his body after she'd realized he wasn't breathing.
In the following days, Georgia was the one who pointed out the last, breathy whisper from their mission audio log. One final set of parting words from Idaho to Oregon, spoken as they soared through the air.
[ "I love you, sis." ]
Arms folded beneath her chin, Dakota Hill, known as Agent Oregon, buried her face against her sleeve to hide from the world.
"Love you too, bro."
"GRAAARGH!"
The hiss of a Biofoam can echoes in the precious silence of their shelter before fading back into quiet. With a grunt, Oregon yanks the can out of the crater that used to be his chest plate and throws it aside. Her helmet is masking her expression, but he can see her fingers tremble as her hand reaches out and steadies him as he thrashes while the foam settles. 5 seconds... 7 seconds... he watches the clock inside his HUD count down the seconds until the numbing agent sets in. Once it does, he lets out a slow, ginger breath. Yeah, okay, he can do this.
"Jesus, Ho. You really know how to get shot." Georgia remarks bluntly, her voice soft as she keeps watch over the door. Rifle held tightly against her body, she's tense. They all are. It was supposed to be a simple data retrieval mission. Slip in, download the program and slip back out. They just didn't expect the security reaction.
"What can I..." He wheezed as a large part of his upper torso struggled to cooperate with his mental signals. "... say? Gotta be good at... something besides... out driving you losers...."
"Shut up, Jordan." Oregon growls as her visor winks slightly in the darkness. She's checking his vitals, he's sure of it. "How are you feeling? The Biofoam should have numbed everything by now."
"Doing... fine..." He gasps and tries to sit up to prove it. For some reason, his chest gives a very strange twinge at that even though everything from the neck down should be cold. The catch in his voice gives him away and her hand on his shoulder tightens.
"... your vitals look steady but..."
"Must be getting old." He replies, forcing the words out steadily even though it leaves him breathless to do it. He can't afford to have her worrying about him, not while they're still neck deep in shit. "Don't worry about it. Let's get-" his voice pauses and he draws in a deep breath, even though it causes another twinge. "-going. Before the Director sends Carolina or something." The joke is breathless but cheerful. Oregon pauses another moment, then gives a brief nod and steps back to help him up.
On his feet, his vision sways for a moment before everything settles. Good, he thinks to himself and resettles his helmet on his head, locking it in place.
"Any time gramps." Georgia throws in, voice sarcastically light as she shifts from side to side, still eying the hall past the door. She's got the entrance open only a sliver, but it's enough to make them all edgy. With a grunt of exertion, he reaches over his should and pulls the DMR off his back while Oregon brings up the map they have of the base.
"100 yards to the motorpool. Georgia and I will draw fire, Jordan you-"
"Hotwire a hog and pick you ladies up." He cuts in, forcing a cheeky note into his voice. "You act like I've never been your chauffeur." She gives him a playful shove and he laughs.
But he still feels uneasy.
---
Georgia opens the ceremony with a few lobbed grenades. As shrapnel and soldiers go flying, Oregon opens fire with an assault rifle and cripples another handful. In the midst of the chaos, Idaho creeps around the back as quickly as he can, finger on the trigger and gun butt nestled against his side. When a hostile rounds the corner, it takes 7 shots to down him for good and each recoil makes him wince. His arm is getting weak and it's throwing off his aim. Not a good sign. Picking up speed till he's just shy of a sprint, he rounds the corner to the vehicles and picks the one closest to the shadows before getting to work.
A long time ago he learned that worrying about being shot while fucking with wires under the hood was detrimental to his efforts. It slowed him down, distracted him, made him slip up... the Counselor had finally solved that problem by designating him "required partners." People he subconsciously knew would check his back while he worked and it did wonders to soothe his nerves. Carolina was one of them, Colorado another. North had been one (until Idaho had met South) and the last...
When he heard the soft scuff of boots behind him, his heart continued to beat steadily as his fingers deftly worked the wires. One step, two steps, three... and the sudden crack of a sniper rifle as a pained gurgle sounded at his back before the thud of a body hitting the ground echoed in his helmet.
"Thanks Ducky." Idaho murmured into the comm with a grin.
"Don't call me that." Oregon replied automatically as he sparked one wire against the other and heard the engine purr to life.
"I'm on my way."
---
The bounce of the hog as the wheels hit dirt again made his chest give another painful twinge as he swung to avoid an incoming string of bullets from a hornet.
"14 miles till the rendezvous point!" Oregon yelled as she bounced bullets off the VTOL's glass. Georgia, on the gun, swung around to unleash a hail of rounds in tandem. As they sped past the offensive flier, Idaho saw a burst of flame in the corner of his eye and an echoing crash moments later.
"One down, 16 more to go." Georgia grunted with grim amusement as she swiveled again and opened fire once more. Her motion sensor was making her edgy, they were practically surrounded by red dots. As Idaho gave another sharp turn, just once millimeter shy of flipping them, Georgia yelled as her aim went askew. "Is it too hard to ask you to drive straight!?" It was a customary rebuttal, practically a tradition on their shared missions.
Idaho staying quiet, was not.
Unbeknownst to either of them, his vision was starting to go gray. His head felt dizzy and light, his body detached and far away. For half a second his head tipped forward and they swerved, as if they were being driven by a drunk man.
"Jordan!" Oregon yelled as she pulled in and reached across the seat to grab the wheel and jerked it towards herself before they veered off a ditch.
Jerking upright, Idaho banged his head on the back seat as he gripped the wheel more tightly. "Sorry! Sorry, I..." He blinked, slowly. Her voice had sounded so... muted. What was this buzzing in his ears...?
"Focus you fuckface!" Georgia yelled at him over the wind as bullets zipped past her head, chipping parts of the warthog and embedding themselves in the frame. But Idaho didn't hear her because he had finally noticed the sensation of something cool on his gut.
Oh.
"Dakota, Georgia, hold on." He murmured faintly. If it weren't for the radio link between their helmets, they never would have heard him. With a reflexive tightening grip on the Warthog's frame, Oregon snapped her head towards him immediately.
"Jordan, what are you- JESUS!" She swore as the Warthog suddenly swerved so sharp that one half of the wheels left the ground for the second. Leaving the road and diving straight into the trees, the jeep bounced and slammed into the dirt over and over as a string of curses left Georgia's mouth.
"WHAT. THE HELL. ARE YOU DO- OH MY GOD NO THAT'S A RAVINE YOU FUCKING DUMBASS DON'T-!!"
And slamming his foot on the accelerator, Idaho careened them into the air. Was it a chance? Yes, it was a chance, but he didn't have much of a choice left. Neither Georgia nor Dakota knew how to drive stick.
For one beautiful moment they arced through the air, clinging to the vehicle for dear life... before the front end slammed into ground and rolled throwing all three of them out of the vehicle. If it hadn't been for their armor, they'd have gotten a lot more than some broken bones and a few bruises. With a soft curse, Georgia picked herself up and looked around as her arm gave a funny popping sound. It was the LZ.
"... and what," she began, pissed, as she got to her feet and swore as her arm swung at an awkward angle. "The hell. Was wrong with the original route?" Limping her way across the ground, she reached up with her good arm and hit the button for the comm link. "FILSS. We're here."
"Pelican en route, Agent Georgia."
"Ow..." Oregon's voice cut across as she began to move, her bright blue armor almost indistinguishable with how much mud covered it. She'd had the minor luck to land in a small pond. As she slowly began to get to her feet, it dripped off her in almost sheets of guck as she picked her way out towards Georgia. "You okay?" She began, slightly winded but otherwise none the worse for wear.
"No. Where's Idaho? I'm gonna kill him." She snarled, looking this way and that for that one bright spot of khaki colored armor. As the rumble of a far off Pelican echoed in the distance, she finally spotted it a little ways off from the Warthog where it lay upside down, one wheel still spinning. "Crazy motherfucking... Idaho, if you're dead I'll fucking resurrect your ass and then kill you again." She snarled as she started to make her way over there before Oregon put her arm over her shoulder and supported her bad side. As the approached the still form, it was only after a moment of silence had passed that they began to feel concern.
"Jordan?" Oregon murmured.
He didn't move.
---
"... Agent Idaho's armor prevented the bullet from fully piercing his heart, but I'm afraid the position was very... tentative, to begin with. In this case, the BIofoam locked it in place against the organ and the continuous pressure caused by your journey from the enemy's base to the LZ pushed it in further. I have no doubt that Agent Idaho realized this at some point, which is when he chose to make that leap of faith. As you can imagine, the resulting moment of impact sealed his fate."
---
She didn't care about the specifics.
Didn't care about the hows or whys.
As the doctors took away his body, covered in a white sheet that became stained with the blood that was seeping out of his chest piece, all she could focus on was the blood on her hands. The blood that had come from trying to perform CPR on his body after she'd realized he wasn't breathing.
In the following days, Georgia was the one who pointed out the last, breathy whisper from their mission audio log. One final set of parting words from Idaho to Oregon, spoken as they soared through the air.
[ "I love you, sis." ]
Arms folded beneath her chin, Dakota Hill, known as Agent Oregon, buried her face against her sleeve to hide from the world.
"Love you too, bro."