Take us Home as we go

[Toaster]

Three armor-clad figures stepped through the slowly dissipating smoke onto the bridge. Thorn, Cowell, and Ibeh quickly swept the deck for signs of further hostiles, then lowered their weapons.

"We're with Cobra," Thorn answered the captain's inquiry. The trio stood silently for a moment, then Cowell and Ibeh stepped off to the side, the former helping the latter limp to an unmanned station and sit. They both nodded their heads at an order only they could hear from Thorn, then got to work tending Ibeh's leg injury.

Thorn, his helmet and armor scarred and soot-stained, strode towards Belle's improvised hiding place. Finding her still crouched behind a blasted console, he reached up and slipped off his helmet, revealing a hard, grizzled face, as scarred as the armor he was clad in.

"Captain Virginia Belle?" He asked, his voice coarse. "We have orders to keep you safe." Not waiting for a response, Thorn donned his helmet again and spun about, surveying the remains of the bridge. Wordlessly, Cowell stood from where he had crouched beside Ibeh and took up a position by the entrance, carbine trained down the corridor beyond. Ibeh, his injury now sprayed with a thick medical foam to ward off infection and stop the bleeding, limped over to Belle, kneeling down beside her. Thorn moved to what remained of the navigation station, pulled a small data stick out of a pouch on his right arm, and inserted it into the console. Immediately, the ship shuddered as the engines strained to change the battered hull's course towards a jump hole to the Ontario system.



* * *


Elsewhere on the ship, the battle for control over the Roanoke continued fiercely. Sergeant Robin and his marines methodically eliminated what resistance remained in the engine compartment, forcing the few loyalists who valued their lives over the Insurgency to surrender. Grant and his militiamen struggled to make any advances into the crew quarters, combat quickly devolving into a brutal melee from room to room. Each side fought fiercely for every inch of deck space. By the end of it, bodies littered the floors and bunks, casualties shared evenly between those with armbands and those without. The Xenos, however, were victorious.

A final assault on the command deck resulted in a final round of bloodshed, as Thorn, Cowell, and Ibeh expended what remained of their munitions on the desperate crew. Finally, their hopes shattered and realizing there was no way out, the last of the loyalists admitted defeat and laid down their arms

As the surviving bridge crew apprehended the surrendered foes and Cowell and Ibeh surveyed the bodies of the dead, Thorn - several new scorch marks decorating his chest plate - stepped up beside Captain Belle. For a moment, they stood in silence, his thoughts unreadable through the mirrored visor of his helmet. Perhaps he was communicating with his men, perhaps he was simply looking over the aftermath of battle. Finally, however, he slid his carbine into the magnetic slot on his back and removed his helmet.

"I have confirmation from Grant," he stated matter-of-factly. "The ship is ours."

---

Olivia Sable