The piercing sound of fighter jets slowly faded to a dull buzz as the ground's shaking subsided. Thaurex lifted his head, noticing nothing but ash and craters. The cover they had hidden beneath was now reduced to rubble. It seemed the mission had been a success — but at a cost.
"It's safe now," Thaurex muttered, his pure white eyes locking onto Katyusha's sky-blue gaze.
The squad emerged from the wreckage: a younger version of Ruco, Ethan, and a private. All five of them stood in the aftermath, silent for a moment.
"Damn," Ruco murmured, surveying the devastation.
"Where's everyone?" the private asked, his voice tinged with panic.
"Who's the new squad leader?" Thaurex asked, his voice sharp. "Our captain's dead."
"The same person asking the question," Katyusha replied coldly, her tone carrying a weight of experience far beyond her years.
Thaurex exhaled heavily, placing his hands on his hips as he surveyed the small circle of comrades. "Okay, okay. Stay calm. We can do this," he muttered under his breath before turning to Ruco.
"Ruco, I need you to look for a binocular or scope. Anything to help us find a place with comms," he commanded.
"Copy," Ruco responded without hesitation, already moving to obey.
"Private, Ethan, you two are on comms, radios, and ammo," Thaurex continued, his voice firm.
"Copy that, Cap," Ethan replied, heading toward the bodies scattered nearby.
Thaurex's gaze shifted to Katyusha. "You and I will handle food and supplies. We meet back here when the sun hits the horizon!" he ordered, raising his voice so everyone heard.
The group dispersed. Ethan and the private rifled through the corpses, gathering ammunition and tossing it into a battered blue duffel bag. Ruco scanned the horizon with his sci-fi binoculars, the cracked lenses barely functioning. Suddenly, something caught his eye—a tower, faint and nearly invisible in the distance.
"HEY! GUYS, I FOUND SOMETHING!" Ruco shouted, excitement lacing his voice.
"SAME HERE!" the private called out, holding up a partially functional radio.
The squad regrouped earlier than planned, huddling around the meeting point. Thaurex wasted no time. "Ruco, you first," he said.
"I spotted a tower, maybe a few clicks from here. I could confirm the distance better if these binoculars weren't trashed," Ruco explained.
Thaurex nodded and turned to Ethan and the private. "We found a working radio and some ammunition," Ethan reported. "Should last us a couple of weeks if we're careful."
"Good. Katyusha and I managed to scavenge some food and medical supplies. Let's see if we can fire up that radio," Thaurex said, crouching beside the device.
Static buzzed through the air as Thaurex switched it on. "Is anyone there?" he asked, his voice trembling with hope. The static persisted. "Does anybody read me?"
A burst of static broke, followed by a crackled voice. "...Negative. You're too hot right now. That air strike stirred up the hornet's nest. Best advice is to find a clear spot, preferably away from the incoming enemy. Over."
Thaurex tightened his grip on the radio, exchanging a glance with Ruco. "Understood. Sending coordinates for the next evac point. Over." He gestured for Ruco to relay the numbers.
Ruco rattled off the coordinates: "10789543 East and 87643327 West."
For a tense moment, silence filled the air. The static returned, stretching into an unbearable pause.
Finally, the radio crackled back to life. "We got it. We'll send a transport and perform flybys every three hours. Stay safe and move quickly. Best of luck. Over and out."
Relief swept over the group like a wave, and cheers erupted. Hope had returned, ambushing them like the earlier air strike.
But the celebration was cut short by a deep rumble beneath their feet. The ground trembled violently, forcing the group to freeze.
Then, faint at first, the unmistakable sound of war chants and marching echoed in the distance. The enemy was closing in, their numbers too great to face.
Thaurex's voice dropped to a whisper. "Quick, pack up. Let's get the fuck out of here."
Without another word, they scattered into the woods, shadows in the looming darkness of a war-torn planet.