The battle against the Ohm raged on, and the casualties on the ground were mounting. Injured crew members got emergency treatment in the field, which largely amounted to patching them up so they wouldn't die sometime within the next fifteen minutes. After that, they were quickly picked up by shuttle and brought back to the ship, where they were sent to a medbay that was getting progressively more crowded.

The situation was growing increasingly dire, to the point that Stacy activated one of the AI's to help out.



"Please state the nature of the medical emergency."

[ooc: BENDYTIME, ACTIVATE! Anytime after the crew has returned to the ship.]

When the medics finally woke Steve up from his healing trance, he was not in the best of moods.

For one thing, the trance had left him feeling much, much better than before-- but had not done much for the virus. A good supply of bandages were able to conceal many of the external signs, but he couldn't very well wrap them around the green marks on his face, his fingers or both of his eyes. His levels were stable but until the virus had gone back into remission, he was stuck in quarantine.

For another, there was no news as far as what had caused GLaDOS to go off on him. No clues as to who found out about him, no sign of who might have done it-- just the knowledge that someone on this crew, who he was supposed to trust, was capable of attacking him like that and there was little to be done about it right now.

And of course, someone had to inform him that Zokez II had been nearly annihilated by the Ohm. The beautiful beaches, resorts and cities-- the places where he spent a happy week relaxing, feeling normal, and spending time with Miku-- were gone, destroyed, the people fled and with no hope of rebuilding. His week had been cut short anyway, but now it felt like the whole thing had been ripped away from him. Even the happy moments he had here on this ship were fleeting-- in the end, everything was now just a memory, stuck in the past and never to come again.

And furthermore, he'd slept through it. The first encounter with the Ohm, the stupid aliens who were the whole reason he was awake on this goddamned ship in the first place, and Steve was too busy sleeping off a virus outbreak that nearly stole his mind from him to help out.

"A mistake" indeed.

Steve was not in any kind of mood at all as he sat on the floor and leaned against the bubble, staring at the ceiling. His silhouette was visible through the dimmed bubble.

It was, what was the word, Pyrrhic. Yeah, that was it, a Pyrrhic victory.

Matt groaned as he stumbled out of bed, weary but awake. More awake than he had been in the last few hours, taking care of things in medical, blasting people with lightning to make them better, and all around tired. There were several other people around the Bus which had a bit of a somber mood to it as he filled his coffee cup. Funny how coffee from Zokez tasted better.

"To victory," said Matt finally, and his statement was echoed in varying tones of enthusiasm or lack of.

He sipped his cup. And then he sat down, picking up his guitar that sat in the corner. What he played was soft, a little melancholy, but it was what he did best to bolster the spirits of everyone around him.

Here I am / this is me / there's nowhere else on earth I'd rather be / here I am / just me and you / tonight we make our dreams come true...

(ooc: you can reach any of my pups in this thread just fyi. Not just Matt)

The crew's fight was desperate and valiant, though their foe seemed unstoppable - the Ohm were unrelenting, tireless, and without number. For every one that fell, three appeared to take their place. As a handful of brave fighters made a final, last-hope strike against the Node in the hopes that it would throw the Ohm into disarray and save this planet for destruction - and as the Node lashed out at them with its hidden might - victory seemed a faint hope at best.

Then in an instant, it all stopped.

On the ground, in the air and in the skies above the planet, the battle suddenly paused. The Ohm ceased their attack, and the crew would get the odd sensation that they were now being watched - no, observed ... and assessed. Before, the Ohm had just been fighting the crew, but now? Now, there was the distinct sensation that the Ohm were aware of them in a way they hadn't been before.

And without any further notification, the legions of Ohm turned all at the same time, as if guided by one singular consciousness, and moved to depart. Their land forces skittered away, and the Shrikes flew into the sky as they returned to their massive carrier ships.

The battle for Zokez II was over as abruptly as it had started.

The crew had fought tooth-and-nail to defend the innocent residents and tourists of the resort world, and to their credit had been able to buy time and space to allow many of them to evacuate to safety. Whoever had not yet been safely evacuated would surely be rescued in the days to come ... in that sense, it was a small victory but a victory nonetheless.

But that was the only victory. The once-idyllic resort world lies ruined, its surface left tainted and scarred by the Ohm. The tropical paradise burns in its death throes, the smoke and fires visible from orbit. Nor will it ever get the chance to heal - the Ohm are not retreating after having being beaten back, but rather seem to be leaving out of their own accord. It may not be the next day, or the next week, or the next month, but it is certain they will return in greater force.

And then this peaceful paradise will be wholly consumed. Until its final death, it will be abandoned and left to rot.

Stacy sends the Observation Deck back down to the planet for her crew. It is time to return home, to nurse their wounds and rest from the battle - to take solace in whatever small victory they can claim. It is time to return to the Bleed - to Stacy's mission.

There is still a duty ahead of the crew ... but now, it seems, the Ohm know they're coming.