Leah ensures that Fasha's bindings are good and tight- not that he's in any condition to get very far even if they weren't- and glances off towards the downed shuttle. There's not much chance that anyone survived a crash like that. But even the slightest chance means she's gotta try if the alternative means leaving someone behind. Or leaving loose ends... "How are you holding up, Nate?" she asks as she stands back up and begins
#Kalus'Compound – February 24, 2019
her trudge through the snow towards her destination. Unsure if the pilot could have survived, she pulls the Carnifex from her thigh once again and it snaps open as it makes contact with her hand.
Mendez gestures towards a crate with a nod of his head. He grips his shotgun in his left hand loosely, barrel towards the door as he grasps at his left shoulder with his right. "Sit." he instructs weakly as he does the same, taking a position against a nearby crate himself.
Jattic continues to stomp through the snow, slave atop his shoulders. "Understood." he nods to himself. "Then I will meet you once I have dropped off the wounded."
Nathan matches his pace to the woman’s, keeping close by should she need a supporting hand. It pains him to leave her shivering in the cold like this, but he hasn’t got any of his winter gear on him. “When we get back, we have some winter clothes you can wear. Might be a bit big, but, y’know. Better than nothing.” He smiles just as Leah’s voice comes through the comms. He keys in to her and replies,
“Well, got shot through the shoulder, but otherwise still kicking. I’ve found one of Fasha’s... you know. I’m bringing her back.”
Slave silently sits down on his knees in view of Mendez, armored boots and kneecaps sounding against the warehouse floor.
Tara does her best to help ease Mendez against the crate before stepping away, a frown lingering on her face as she looks between him and the man in gray.
Emma lets her omni-tool hand slump back down, gaze wandering the compound. Scanning the bodies to make sure none of them are moving. Trying to get a glimpse of Leah or Nathan.
The shuttle looks mostly intact aside from the obvious torn-open door - it seems like the snow and wetland worked together to cushion the impact. There's no movement visible from the outside.
Leah draws a sharp breath in through her nose as she hears Nathan's voice, seemingly alive and well. But his words cause a crease in her forehead. "...How bad is it?" she asks tentatively, something to keep her mind busy as she approaches the shuttle. Everything quieting down gives her a chance to take notice of her wounds. They're little more than surface damage, but it doesn't stop the familiar sting to settle in, dulled by
the application of medi-gel. She grips her pistol tightly in her right hand, index finger against the reciever as she presses her left against the side of the shuttle and cautiously begins to duck through the torn-open door once more.
Jattic slips through the warehouse door, turning sideways to ensure he doesn't bonk the slave's head against the doorframe as he does. He passes a glance to the trio in the storage area, assessing the damage to Mendez in silence. "Leah requires my assistance." he says as he crouches down, slowly lowering the unconscious batarian to the floor before gesturing to his wounds. "I have done what I can for his wounds. I'm not sure
what more we can do. Perhaps if you could collect a blanket and pillow to keep him warm...?" he puts out, not directing it at anyone in specific, though his gaze does come to rest on Tara.
Mendez accepts Tara's help, but mostly puts his weight against the crate. His large bulk causes it to slide across the floor slightly, but it manages to hold and he falls into a seated position against it with a grunt. He studies the slave through a pained expression. Hair matted against the top of his head and blood staining his face, he draws in deep breaths. "Helmet." he huffs as he shifts in place against his makeshift
backrest, "Take it off." Jattic's appearance causes him to glance up towards the batarian. For a moment, it looks as if the large man might even try to get back up to comply with Jattic's request before looking apologetically towards Tara.
Nathan looks to his shoulder and tenderly places a hand against it, wincing as the sharp pain shoots through even the numbing nature of the medi-gel. After a moment more of inspection, he says, “I’ve had a lot worse. Clean through... shame it just had to come from that big bastards machine gun. Fucking stings.”
Tara 's eyes linger on the wounded batarian for a moment, but she's quick to get moving, heading off towards the barracks to fetch some things to keep the unconcious man warm.
Slave 's attention locks onto Mendez, looking at him for a moment before lifting his tied-up hands to his helmet, struggling for a moment before getting leverage on the chin to push it up until it falls to the floor next to him with a clank, rolling away a bit. The face underneath is young, and human. A few years older than Tara, perhaps, with pale skin, hazel eyes and shaved brown hair. There's a brand on his forehead, and his
nose looks like its been broken in the past. There's no shortage of little scars across his skin either.
Inside the shuttle, Leah would find the adjunct strapped into one of the seats, slumped to one side. He's bleeding from the back of the head. The door to the cockpit has been obliterated, and shards of metal lie scattered all over, a few embedded in the controls. Or in the pilot. The pilot who is, remarkably, still moving. A grunt as he hears Leah enter, stumbling out of his chair and falling to the floor. He's in no state to fight, that
Leah allows a small smile to cross her lips when it seems like Nathan's wound is nothing to be concerned about. "Just gonna have to suck it up." she teases. "Painful reminder that you may have chosen the wrong career, huh? Guessing you don't have to deal with too many GSWs at violin recitals." she continues. But the smile disappears as quickly as it emerged once she ducks inside and is treated to the sight of the shuttle
interior. Her initial reaction is to make sure there's no immediate threats, raising her Carnifex in both hands as she gives a quick sweep of the compartment. Once sure she's safe, she addresses the next concern. The pilot. She steps over to the cockpit door, pistol trained on him as she looks him over to assess his condition, looking for any brands. Any sign as to whether he's a slave or a member of the 'Honorable House
Mendez holds Jattic's gaze pointedly, keeping him in place until Tara is out of the room. Once she's gone, he seems to let out a strained breath. "This medi-gel isn't gonna hold me together for much longer..." he says, stating the obvious, "...Lost a lot of blood back there..."
Jattic lowers his gaze, offering a few small nods. "Rest." he states plainly, his voice a low rumble. "You will get the help you require. We will make sure of it." he assures, passing a glance towards the soldier before starting back out to meet with Leah.
Mendez gives a nod in turn, shifting painfully in place to pull his shotgun to his knee. It's aimed in the general direction of the soldier in case the need arises, but not specifically trained on him. Once it's just the two of them in the storage area, he addresses the slave once more. "...You did the right thing." he says, "We're gonna-... gonna get you out of here."
Nathan sighs, but allows a faint chuckle to slip through the comms to her. “Well, depends. You got some seriously crazy parents at these things,” he muses before cutting the link. He looks to the slave, brow creasing mildly. “You doing alright? We’re almost there, we’ll get you something to eat and drink.” It’ll probably be a sane idea to contact Sandbeck once this whole ordeal has been dealt with. As
much as he respects Redrock and it’s people, they’re just not properly equipped for rehabilitating rescued slaves or tracking down their kin. At least not from what he has seen so far.
The pilot is not branded. He's wearing a sturdy red jacket much like the man Leah fought by the other shuttle. His head lifts, gaze turning to Leah's pistol. A pained wince is followed by shaky hands rising in surrender.
Slave stares at Mendez, his gaze empty. He seems neither convinced or enthused by the prospect of 'getting out'.
Leah crouches down beside the pilot to get a better look, Nathan's words ringing hollow in her ears as she assesses the batarian. No brand. Just another slaver. "...Yeah. I bet." she agrees with Nathan, her tone a bit distracted. With a breath, she stands up straight once more, levels her sidearm on the slaver's head, and squeezes the trigger without hesitation, an unceremonious shot ringing out through the shuttle.
Mendez isn't here to convince a bunch of slaves about just how much better their lives will be once out from under the thumb of Fasha. So he doesn't. He merely remains as he is, silently leaned against the crate as he awaits Tara's return. The distant gunshot causes him to glance towards the door, but there's not much he can do. His helmet left outside, he can't even check in.
Jattic steps back out into the snow. The gunshot that echoes distantly informs him of Leah's position and he immediately begins to bound in that direction. "I've got gunshots, is that you, Mercier?" he growls.
Nathan sighs softly and glances off in the direction of the gunshot, silent. Easy to guess what that was for. He remains quiet as he guides the slave back to the other buildings, his fingers tapping his omni-tool as he preps a message to send to Lucy. An ‘anonymous’ tip that a group of slaves have just been freed from a vicious slaving house.
"Wa-" The shuttle pilot's plea is cut off before it had a chance to begin as the shot rings loud in the confined space, bullet punching through his skull and staining the shuttle controls with blood and gray matter as his body slumps to the floor. The deafening loudness of the gunshot causes the adjunct to stir in his seat, a disoriented groan sounding.
Slave 's attention shifts towards the door with the lone, distant gunshot, soon returning to Mendez, studying his reaction.
Tara soon returns, blanket, pillow and waterbottle in hand as she makes her way over to the wounded slave. She places the water bottle by Mendez before getting to work providing a warmer and more comfortable resting spot for the badly injured batarian, her movements light and careful.
Human startles slightly, gaze shooting towards the direction of the shot, but Nathan's calm leads her to continue to follow in silence.
Leah doesn't waste any more time on the pilot. But the adjunct's stirring causes her to rush to his side. "It was. Don't worry about it. All handled." she responds bluntly to Jattic as she brings a gauntleted hand to the side of the adjunct's head, tilting it gently to try and see just how badly he's injured. "Can you hear me?" she asks off comms.
Jattic allows his pace to slow to a steady jog when Leah doesn't report any immediate danger. "Understood." he says. It's a few seconds before he speaks up again. "...Mendez is wounded. It is... not good." He allows his statement to linger for a moment, "I do not believe he will survive the night unless we get him medical help..."
Mendez watches the door for a few moments before seeming to accept that he's in no condition to go rushing out. As Tara returns, he pulls the water in closer, nodding appreciatively. But he watches somewhat anxiously as she takes care of the wounded batarian before finally speaking up. "My helmet." he grunts to her. "I dropped it outside. Can you-...? I can't check in with the others without it."
Nathan gives the woman a reassuring smile over his omni-tool, before he quickly finishes the draft. Satisfied, he saves it to send later. Hearing the rest of the chatter over the comms, he keys in and says, “Listen, Jasper is on standby, ready to pick us up if needs be. I think at this point any hope of keeping this away from the Chief and Jason is next to none. We should cut our losses and call in for an
extraction, get the critically wounded and the slaves to a hospital. At least there they can be properly cared for and the rescued can get checked out.”
It's of course hard to determine how injured the adjunct is, but while he's bleeding there doesn't seem to be any damage to his skull. His eyes start to blink open, looking around in confusion. "Nhk... hu... man...?"
Tara looks Mendez' way when she's addressed. She's quick to nod, having mostly finished with the batarian, and heads for the door at a quick pace.
Leah tightly shuts her eyes as she hears Jattic's assessment of Mendez' injuries, but the batarian before her requires her immediate attention. She's quick to remove his harness, cutting it if she has to. "You couldn't just jump, could you?" she mutters as she works. Once the harness has been dealt with she meets his eyes through her visor, "Come on. Let's get you out of here and look at those wounds." she adds before switching
back to comms. "Call him up, Nate." she says. Because of course she's not going to risk her best friend's life- or the life of any of the slaves, for that matter- just to avoid the ire of the Redrock leadership. "But no hospital. Not unless we absolutely need it. Once I'm back at the compound with Fasha I'll try and get ahold of Halisi and have her ready and waiting to check everyone out. But the last thing we need is a
bunch of branded slaves showing up at the hospital." Just another problem to throw on the pile. It's beginning to add up. But for now, she focuses on the one right in front of her. The one she can address. She offers the adjunct a hand in assistance.
Jattic nods to himself as he continues in Leah's general direction. "Agreed. We have no idea who- or how many- are awaiting Fasha's return. Should the wrong staff member become aware of the servants' presence that information could find its way back to House Bar'adon. We do not need their attention on Freedom Falls.
Mendez allows his shotgun to rest against his leg as he works at his gauntlets, removing them so he has an easier time with the cap of the water bottle.
Nathan hums an affirmative, adding, “Gotcha,” before switching over to Jasper’s personal comm. “Jasper, do you read? That pick up you offered? Yeah, we could really do with that. Like, as soon as feasibly possible. That would be great.”
Adjunct gives a stiff nod, wincing from pain. He staggers to his feet with Leah's help, seeming on the verge of losing his balance as he stumbles outside. His left arm hangs limp at his side, but he uses the right to steady himself as he heads out, squiting against the relatively dim light.
Tara soon returns with Mendez' broken helmet in hand, holding it out for him. Her gaze is low, avoiding his.
It takes a number of moments before Jasper picks up and when he does there's a light layer of static over comms, but it's not enough to drown out the familiar voice.
Jasper's voice carries over the static, concern clear in his tone. "That you, Ten? I'm-... uhh-..." he begins, sounding as though he's already moving, "I'm on my way. What's goin' on? Everyone alright? Where are ya'll? Same place I left ya?" he fires off his questions in rapid fire like a worried father.
Leah pulls one of the adjunct's arms across her shoulders to help him bear his weight as she leads him carefully through the torn-open door. "Are you alright?" she asks, passing a glance his way as she starts back in Fasha's general direction so they can await Jattic's arrival. "We've got an evac on the way. Just gotta hang in there, alright?"
Mendez takes a long draw from his water bottle, some spilling across his chestplate before he sets the bottle aside and accepts the helmet with an appreciative bow of his head. It would take some finagling to get the mangled helmet back on, so instead he just lifts it up before him. "I heard some gunshots. Are we all good out there?" he asks.
Jattic chimes in over comms a moment later. "The situation is under control. Ten is calling Jasper for an evac. Leah and I are gathering the injured. We will be back momentarily." he reports.
Nathan smiles faintly at Jasper’s concern, a small measure of relief flossing his chest at the pilot’s speedy reply. He could always count on that old coot to ready to save the day. “We’ve got a couple of injured that could do with a speedy pick up. Same place as where you dropped us off,” he explains, wincing a little as he feels his shoulder flare up again.
Adjunct 's response is little more than an affirmative grunt, struggling with his balance as they walk.
Jasper has most certainly been awake all night and filled with terror over whatever sheisty business the team has been up to and awaiting an emergency call. "God da-..." he begins in a huff. "How bad is it? Is it 'pick up the doc on the way' bad or-...?" he asks, but before Nathan can respond he chimes in again. "If any of ya'll die 'fore I get there I'm gonna lose a slipper in yer keester, Ten! You understand?! I knew ya'll
were up to-..." he trails off in a flustered mutter, somewhere between sheer frustration and manic concern.
Nathan scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. It’s probably been a good few decades since he was threatened with a slap form a slipper and it was still as demeaning as it was back then. He clears his throat. “None of us are going to die before you get here,” he assures. “And, uh... leave the doc decision to Leah, alright? She’ll make the call to Halisi once she’s made it back to the compound. I think a
Jasper pulls in a long, drawn out breath that's audible even over the static-laced comms. "I'll be there jus' inside an hour. Ya'll hold onto yer butts 'til then!"
The slaves are all gathered in the second barracks. Hands have been bound for safety and the wounded batarian has been laid atop one of the old mattresses that was left behind. Fasha, however, is not among them. He's in the mess hall, laid atop the cold, stainless steel table. Hands and ankles bound. Mendez has been moved to the barracks the group set up in, laid on top of the mattress despite his protests that he's fine. Just getting him
there took a couple people. He's still conscious, but- though he's trying not to let it show- it's pretty obvious that he's in a bad spot. Leah is currently kneeled down beside him.
Nathan led the woman inside the barracks and, after making sure she was properly dressed with his oversized winter coat and given something hot to drink, he went to the mess hall to watch over Fasha. The grenadier has left his helmet sat on the table nearby, his arms folded across his chest as he glares silently at the bound Batarian. Judging by the frown on his face, it’s clear that Nathan’s disposition right
Emma is sitting against the wall in the barracks after getting inside with Jattic's help, accepted in silence. She requested help from one of the less injured team members with setting up a splint for her leg.
Leah has a deep brown etched into her face, helmet stowed away now that things have quieted down. She's kneeled beside Mendez' bed, grasping one of his hands.
Leah gives an exasperated sigh. "And I told you I have no idea what that means." she mutters in mock frustration. She watches him for another moment, guilt settling into her chest as she looks over his wounds. She silently leans forward to press a kiss against the back of his large hand.
Mendez furrows his brow, pulling his hand back. "Oh fuck off." he grunts dismissively. "I'm not dying, ya little shit. Don't get all mushy on me."
Leah's frown deepens as she watches Mendez through big green eyes. "You better not..." she says softly, the events- and prolongued use of her biotics- having taken a bit out of her. "...Otherwise I'm gonna kill you." With that, she climbs back to her feet and gives a glance to Emma. "Keep an eye on him." she says before exiting the barracks and starting towards the mess hall, activating her omni-tool to put out a call to Halisi
Jattic is a stone sentry in the second barracks, Avenger folded on his back as he stands by the door.