Sarah needs to move.

The Chieftain's still grinning as he runs a thumb along the blade of his hammer, collecting the splatter of Jane’s blood from her arm–

her arm, herarm herarm it's gonegonegonegone

Jane's body is limp. Her mind is quiet, blacked out by pain and constant fighting.

Sarah's chip is an implant—test/experiment/risk—practically part of Jane's neural lace.

Surely that meant something useful?

Sarah doesn’t have time to wonder, she needs to actactact

The door/wall/gate is right there, she just needs to force it open. Her fear and determination drive her as she reaches for the other half of the connection.

Sarah's so close, and every line of her code burns, and she can almost feel the techsuit on her skin–

Correction: she can feel the techsuit.

Jane's eyes snap open, and Sarah sees the fractured visor a little more personally.

She also sees the Brute is done cleaning his hammer and decorating his armor smearingherlifeblood

Sarah pushes as much intent as she can and Jane’s remaining hand twitches. Clenches. Reaches for her right hip, for the Magnum attached to the magnetic holster.

The Brute’s still distracted, wiping his hand clean on his armor liketheratbastardheis.

Sarah lines up the Magnum, focused solely on the crosshair projected on the broken visor.

Framed in a ring of red is her target’s face, smug/rotten/damned as he finally turns back to the armored body.

Sarah fires once, striking the Brute’s jaw. Then another squeeze, and another, and another as the AI dumps the whole magazine.

The shoddy metal the Brute calls a helmet gives way under the first half, leaving his head exposed to the fireyvengeance the second half of the magazine unleashes.

She doesn't care about the blasted corpse as it falls with a thud.

Sarah lets the Magnum fall. She’s not done, she can’t restrestrest not yet.

Jane’s biofoam canister. Right on her hip. Unhook, point nozzle at thewoundwheretherewasanarm. Spray.

Spray. Spray, spray, spraysprayspray SPRAY THE GODDAMN FOAM.

A flash of burning painpainpainpainpain washes over the nervous system as the wounded shoulder is covered in the medical spray.

A moment later, Sarah recognizes a pained scream as, technically, her own.

Now, for the fun/joyous/hell part: calling for help.

A mere thought brings up Jane's radio connection. Easy. Simple. And then there's the problem of using her vocal chords.

It's just pushing air through, right?

"Sierra–" Oh, that's very strained. Is that Sarah's faultfaultfault, or did Jane get hit harder than she thought?

Again, againagain– Sarah needs to try again.

"Sierra Three-One-Seven… Need medical assistance. My location."

That was enough, right? Ithastobe.

Yes, yesyesyes, a response! A team, on the way.

Restrestrest, the two can rest now.

That’s weird. Sarah can see the reflection of Jane’s face in the visor.

Her eyes are green. No, no, nonono, they’re supposed to be gray, like steel.

Strong like steel, not broken/decaying/dying

She must be seeing things.

Need to rest.

Needtorest.

Need… to…

rest.

_{Written March 4, 2023}