[RFC]Boskone attack on SerenityCon

[Dartz]

Dredged up from the Pit. Jet gets a Zig medal for this.... unless something else is needed.

The wheels of the truck made contact with the floor in Gnarlycurl's landing bay. The tension in her passenger's body seemed to drain to the floor. Her militia uniform seemed ready to follow.

Ford wordlessly switched the truck back over to its usual wheeled motion, engaged a gear and drove across the bay through the open inner doors. Passing a line of other vehicles parked up and offloading, she turned around a shot-up Peterbuilt before finding an empty space among the mass of people. The tyres chirped as she stomped on the brake, stopping the truck with a shudder. A turn of the key shut the engine down a moment and she rapped her knuckles on the divider between cab and cargo bay.

"Everybody out!"

Adrenaline buzzed through her veins, her body spasming as she tried to move from her seat. A very confused looking Tachikoma whirred past, not quite sure what it was supposed to be doing.

Some of the wounded were already being loaded out of the back by a Julien Freiz and Herschel Rosenberg. She tried hard not to look at them. Focus on the truck. A stray round had shot out one of the headlights, then punched a fist-sized hole in the front fender.

There were scratches and pock-marks all along the paint from debris.

She forced herself not to think about Jet, even though she knew Jet would've been up right as the attack began. There were more important things to worry about.

"Hey you!" she yelled at someone who looked like they belonged. "Get me some diesel fuel, I'm running out."

Yell at anyone hard enough, all they'll do what you tell them. It helped vent the stress and the frustration. It helped her ignore the smell coming out the back of the pickup truck.

It was hosed down while someone refilled the tank.

Ford popped the bonnet and focused her mind on checking over the engine. It was still steaming hot. The smell of burnt flesh tickled her nostrils as she singed her fingers on a hot manifold. The washer bottle had been smashed when the bullet when through, then boiled in vacuum

Could be worse. For something bought second hand off a redneck who was trading up to a Blackbird, it was holding together pretty well. She slammed the bonnet down and offered a silent prayer to whatever god would listen that everyone she cared about would be alive tomorrow.

Her prayer was answered a heartbeat later.

Jet, coated in brown muck and black carbon, following another cyber being wheeled through on a gurney.

"Hey! Hey Jet!"

She waved. The cyber stopped dead, eyes scanning around. Ford swore Jet thought she saw a ghost when she spotter her.... her eyes widened into a pair.

"Over here!" Ford grinned at her.

Jet stumbled in obvious disbelief, limping on one leg. For a moment, Ford thought she'd been taking on troopships by just ramming them, but that just seemed to insane to be possible.

They both stopped, separated from each other by inches. Jet reeked of blood and burning metal, her face and body streaked with grime and blood. Ford couldn't tell where any of it had come from.

Both regarded each other silently for a moment, unwilling to do anything rash that might cause the other to dissapear in a puff of wishful fantasy.

"You look like hell," the both said in unison.

Ford had to wonder how bad she really looked. She slowed moved her gloved hand towards Jet's face, just to touch and see if she was real.

"That's everything. It's ready to go,"

Both of them started, stepping a back from each other to look at the gearhead beaming a grin at them both.

Jet looked at her, stunned for a moment. "You're going back out?"

Ford sighed, throwing her a wan smile.."So long as my truck's still moving, I got to go. I've made three runs already."

And that sounded almost like she was bragging about it.

Jet seemed about ready to object in the most vehement manner possible, but she thought better. She tried to start with something else, then finally came up third time lucky.

"Fuckit, Ford." she grinned with her face a mask of stone determination. "Let's do it right then. Get as many trucks, vans and jeeps together as you can. We all go together. It'll make them easier to protect. I'm going to track down that Tachikoma, and some decent firepower."

It wasn't heroism. It was an excuse. Jet would never have forgiven herself if Ford was killed, while she stayed safe on Gnarlycurl. Everything else was just dressing it up to hide the truth.

"Fucking A!" Ford practically punched the air.

"Be ready in Five Minutes. I'll get the Gruppe."

----

Five minutes later, six battered Panzer Kunstler, one Tachikoma that'd been 'convinced' to join in by a few quick 'innacuracies' and a rag-tag convoy of space vehicles that'd been dredged up from willing and unwilling owners were waiting to depart. The Toyota Hilux was stolen, with a madboy's shockcannon hastily welded onto a mount in the cargo bay.

It looked positively African.

There were a few weapons. But nothing really worth having. She'd bodged together some knuckledbombers for her own use, and Gant had liberated a coilgun and powerpack from a Zig.

Tyko had the crazy awesome idea to try hijacking an enemy fighter for their own escort. It was her decision if she found she had the opportunity.

Jet sat on the bonnet of the Dragon Wagon, at the head of the convoy. An emergency patch from a catgirl was holding her leg together. The catgirl herself was still fussing around Gant's leg, getting as much down as she could

The convoy was ready. She'd informed the tower. They had their callsign. Only one thing remained.

Trying to sound like she knew what she was doing. Jet took a deep breath, and opened a comm channel inside her mind. Part of her still thought she was crazy, but she just had to turn back and look at the truck's driver to know she was right.

"Alright everyone. This is how it's going to work. You fly. We plough the road. We all go down there. We pick up people. We come back here. Then we do it again. And again. And again until this is over. If you don't think you can do that, stay here. We'll find someone else to drive. Otherwise.... stick close. Don't get seperated. Don't fall behind. And good luck everyone. It's time to sign the book of history."

Even if the last line was stolen from a Sabaton song, it seemed to meet the purpose.

"Angreifen!"

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Edit: Tweaked based on comment below.
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--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?