Obviously, the Astral intelligence assessments are way off, and you wonder if the spooks are really understanding what's going on here on Cerberus. The Astral attitude toward colonists in general is not, you've noticed, very charitable—maybe you need to take a fresh look at the situation here on the ground. You'd feel better with an entire platoon at your back, but maybe with a smaller group of troopers you can move without drawing hostile attention.
You size up the troopers still with you. Amori, and the remnant of Three Squad. There were six of them a minute ago—but now you see only five.
"Where's Squad Leader Garcia?" you ask.
Eyes flick in all directions. One trooper points back the way he'd come.
"She was with me when those airships did their last run. She told me to go for cover while she drew their fire."
"Come on," you growl, raising your rifle and advancing carefully through the trees. In the gray light you can see the opening of the clearing ahead. Your troopers tread carefully over the rough ground behind you, their footfalls lost in the distant rumble of the circling airship. The thick canopy of branches above you provides excellent cover, but the sooner you can get away from here the better.
You find Squad Leader Garcia, collapsed inside the tree line. In the shadows you can't see her wounds, but you've smelled enough blood recently to know that she's in bad shape.
She manages to lift her head as you approach, hands still gripping her rifle.
"Hey, sir," she whispers. "I think we're clear."
"We're clear," you confirm as you crouch down next to her, pulling out a field dressing and pressing it against the dark, slippery gash in her neck.
Her armor is dented from multiple small arms hits, and several plates are shattered from heavier fire. Her breathing is quick and shallow, but you can see fire in her eyes. With the help of the other troopers you manage to lean her back against a log and tend to her multiple wounds. Field first aid kits are hardly portable hospitals, but they carry enough supplies for a few quick patch jobs.
You hear the rumble of the rebel airship overhead, still searching for targets.
"They caught a visual on us," Garcia says to you, as if reading your thoughts. "They know we're nearby and they're not going to let us go."
"We'll get out of here soon enough," you say quickly, injecting her with a combat cocktail to ease the pain and speed healing. You motion the troopers back to give her a bit of space, but you stay close to assess her wounds. Her broken leg is splinted and the puncture to her neck has been staunched. Her injuries are serious, and possibly life-threatening if she doesn't get medical attention soon, but she's still lucid as her hand grips yours with surprising strength.
"I can't move," she says, her eyes still holding yours. "But you got to get the troops out of here, sir, before the rebels decide to land."