volieredeatori | Wild PLOT appears! (Reply)

It turned out that all their worry and fear had, indeed, been unnecessary. A gentle flutter of eyelash, twitch of lip, and verdant eyes slowly worked themselves open, the entire 13th Division watching in rapt, awed surprise and exhaling relief as their commander levered himself up on a single bloodied arm. (If any noticed that the other arm hung useless by his side, and certainly they did, not one dared speak a word.) "Help me up," Raven demanded, and a clamor rose as all of them leapt forward at once to obey.

On his feet, the fiery-haired Eldarian seemed back in complete control; he took stock of himself, patted down scarred and blood-smeared skin with a clinical hand and only then looked to his wounded arm. "Hnh," he snorted derisively, fingers running over the dark bruises and the alarming bulge beneath his skin, and finally looked up to address his men. "Arumat, hold here--" he indicated his wrist-- "and Reine, you hold here," indicating his upper arm, looking somewhere between pained and satisfied as the named two grasped where indicated, their eyes full of mixed misgivings and curiosity. "Good, now grip tightly and pull in opposite directions - don't let up until I say to."

They flinched as one, then pulled; Raven's arm gave a sickening crack and he paled, bit his lip and breathed deep until the flare of pain had passed. "There - stop," he murmured low, inhaled again and relaxed, looking about as Arumat and Reine let go. "Nothing can be done about it. We'll have to salvage metal from the wreckage for a splint."

Ten minutes later, the break was supported by two small steel girders only slightly warped and strips torn from the shirts of several of the less-armored men; they all seemed to have misgivings about this primitive treatment except for Raven, his visage as calm as if he had never been wounded at all, his mind working quickly in the dim space between consciousness and pain. "Anything capable of shooting down an Eldarian warship is not something we are currently capable of fighting," he began, looking about once more. "But..." His eyes gleamed nascent with sudden life; he grinned harshly. "But we aren't going down without a fight. Ready your weapons, men - I'm going to see you all back home if it's the last thing I ever do for you!"

The words bolstered courage and arose a cheer, and with their own faces settling into grim determination, the members of the 13th Independent Armored Division readied themselves and prepared to move out, faithful to the last to their leader's courageous orders.

Of the five squads sent out, they were the only one to make it back to Eldar alive.