“The drakes peeled off?” Lieutenant Rog couldn’t credit something like that to the strength of the 203rd’s formation. Even with his anti air in position, they didn’t have enough firepower to completely repulse an airstrike. This formation was meant to keep the enemy on the ground from closing in unchallenged. Rog’s men were making themselves a big target for the fliers in exchange.

The Lieutenant tapped his operator on the shoulder. “Any news from the scouts?”

“Incomplete reports and a lot of screaming,” the operator shook his head, “Nothing actionable.”

It sounded like radio discipline was breaking down again. Rog needed a minute to try and come up with a plan, so he’d let his command vehicle’s operator, Lang, handle the radio station for a change. Unfortunately, he hadn’t come up with anything he liked, and the scouts hadn’t reported back with the intel they needed.

Getting out of this might require a gamble, a committed move made completely in the dark.

“Hold on,” Lang held out his hand to keep Rog’s attention, “This is Intrepid 1. 21, you’re breaking up. Repeat that. Over.”

“21?” Lieutenant Rog had a slightly incredulous look on his face.

“Intrepid 1 to 21. Good to hear. Get us some coordinates, then. That might be our ticket out of this mess. Over.”

Rog couldn’t hide the anticipation on his face.

“Sir, Intrepid 21’s scout vehicle made it out of the encirclement and found a ruin relatively close by. If the coordinates look good, we can probably muscle our way out and head in that direction.”

“Good. It’s not much, but an actual landmark will help us pull out of here. I’d also appreciate having better ground to fight on, if it comes to that.”

“Lieutenant, are we still on the mission?” That was a good question, so it was no wonder Rog’s driver, Tos, was asking.

Rog sighed, not quite sure himself. On the one hand, they were still at near full fighting strength. They were pinned down like rats, but if the enemy suddenly ran low on ammunition–something that wasn’t completely out of the question–the 203rd would be poised to make a violent comeback, potentially sweeping the field. It made the lieutenant wonder if the enemy had as many units out there as the incoming fire suggested.

“Yeah,” Rog gave the idea more consideration, “They could be playing us right now.”

“Sir?”

“No one’s even sighted an enemy gun or tank yet. It feels like they’ve got us slightly outnumbered, but if that’s the case, they’re risking a lot by waiting for the drakes to bomb us into submission. They should be closing in before we get desperate enough to break out.”

“Ah,” Tos nodded, “You think they’re pinning us down until the main force gets here.”

“Those drakes they sent could actually be the main force, but there might be tracked reinforcements on the way,” Rog said. “They clearly knew we were coming, but they probably spread themselves out to make sure they caught us as soon as we came out of one of the tunnels.”

“In that case,” Lang began, looking away from his station, “We need to break out of here before possible reinforcements really close the net.”

“Or those drakes come back to hit us again. As soon as Intrepid 21 gets us those coordinates we’re making a break for it,” Rog decided. They had a bearing already, but the distance to the target would determine some critical details in the orders Rog was preparing to give the 203rd.

They didn’t have to wait long for Casey to report in, but the lieutenant wouldn’t have believed that at the time. Two minutes was an eternity while under fire, even if it was barely amounting to suppressing fire.

“Coordinates received,” Lang winced at the radio. Rog reflexively mirrored the reaction, wondering what was wrong. “Keep yourselves alive, Intrepid 21. Over and out.”

“What happened?”

“The drakes took out their vehicle, but our scouts made it to the ruin on foot. Both are injured.”

Lieutenant Rog clenched his teeth. “Not again.”

Lang and Tos already knew to keep quiet about this. Casey and Alice would probably survive until they arrived, but every time the latter got into trouble, far too many of Rog’s men broke ranks to try and help her. They couldn’t afford that kind of stupidity right now.

Lang handed Rog a slip of paper with the coordinates freshly singed on with hot mana. That was the only good news for the moment.

“Only a couple of miles.” At full speed–or near enough as they could get on this hellish terrain–it wouldn’t take them long catch up.

Ricard was sure he was going insane from all the waiting and worrying when Lieutenant Rog finally buzzed in with new orders. Apparently the scouts had found … something.

“Intrepid 21’s scout team have found a landmark for us. We’re heading straight for it. Staggered column. Intrepids 7 and 10 take point; Intrepids 2 and 4 take up the rear. We’re getting out of here right now.”

Rog gave more specific orders to the anti air units, sensor units, logistics vehicles, and even the scouts, but by that point Ricard was already focused on getting Chaser into position in the column. They were going to wind up roughly in the middle of the pack, a couple of vehicles in front of Intrepid 1, and right behind one of the sensor vehicles.

“Alright we’re left,” Ricard’s voice trailed off as he turned Chaser’s turret about forty-five degrees in that direction and waited. That was when he noticed the shelling beginning to die down considerably. Ricard wasn’t optimistic enough to think they would burn through all of their ammunition just suppressing them like this. What felt far more likely to him was a group of heavy tanks preparing to charge their position at point blank range. For a group as large as the 203rd, shock and awe was the only way to defeat them outright.

“We’re underway,” Nicholas reported.

“Alright, let’s fall in and get out of here.”

The radio chatter was picking up again. Rather than add to the noise, Ricard focused as best he could in order to use the Commune technique. “Alice, Casey, what’s the situation over there?” It was so much more waiting before he tried again. “Alice, Casey, it’s Rick. Respond.”

“Are they okay?” Nicholas looked back over his shoulder.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Ricard frowned. “Alice. Casey. Come on, give me something here.” It was at that moment Ricard lamented being in the middle of the pack. At least if Chaser were at the front, he could move faster without as much scrutiny. He would still be in for a reprimand dragging the battalion along at such a high speed, but at least he wouldn’t feel helpless.

“Hey Rick. It’s Matteo. You reading me?”

Ricard cocked an eyebrow at his radio. “Intrepid 21 receiving. What is it, 7? Over.”

“Orders, reports, and relays ONLY!” Lieutenant Rog wasn’t having any unnecessary chatter on the main channel today.

Ricard sighed and waited for Matteo to inevitably continue their exchange via the commune technique.

“Still receiving?”

Ricard heard Matteo’s voice in his head this time, undistorted, but quieter. “What’s this about, Matteo?”

“I’ve been trying to raise Alice; congratulate her for finding us a way out, and all that. No luck so far. How about you?”

That wasn’t good. “Same here. No response through commune, either. I’m not sure what to think.”

“You know what I think? I think we need to double time it. The lieutenant gave us the lead, so we get to set the pace of this fighting retreat. Think you can keep up?”

The beginnings of a smile made it to Ricard. “I was just about to ask. Yeah, we can keep up.”

“Good. Now let’s get over there and thank her in person.”

Assuming Alice and Casey were alright. Ricard could only hope and follow Matteo’s lead along with the rest of the 203rd.