trans_9 | The Battle That Ended The Century

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The Battle That Ended The Century

People say that war is hell. This looked it.

Buildings and cars and bodies are scattered like broken toys as far as the eye can see, stretching out toward a dirty horizon. Even the clouds seems streaked with mud and blood, and they're taking it out on everyone below with a constant stream of cold, soaking rain.

The sounds of fighting seem to come from all directions, but at this moment, there's no one else in sight.

A breather. The calm before the storm.

[[OOC: This is for everyone who was involved with "The Lurking Fear". Questions go to Milo or Kaylin.]]

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"Excellent," Billy almost smiled, then set about his work on the wiring. "That connection links with this auxillary wire..." He mutters to himself as he works, digging around. But he doesn't seem to have learned from the first time, as he's singed his hand again. Yelping, he pulled his hands out, tried to wring some water out of his shirt, then attempted to dry his hands on it.

That taken care of (somewhat), he went back to work. "How's it coming down there?" he called.

Well, there was half of the problem already. One of the stabilizer bars had snapped, which only served to throw the wheels out of sync with each other. An easy fix, normally, but a bit of a pain in the neck with a busted arm. She repaired it as quickly and painlessly as she could, before moving on to remove one of the panels underneath to take a better look inside.

"Definitely seen better days." Her reply was slightly muffled, her head inside the compartment with her hands, though the rest of her was positioned in a bit of an awkward lean to eliminate too much use of her shoulder. It was bleeding again, and it crossed her mind that she should probably find a medic one of these hours to take a look at it, but first things first.

Wires all in order, she peeked back out at Billy, and tossed him a mostly-dry rag from her pack. "That might help some."

"Thank you," he huffed gratefully, finally drying his hands enough to avoid electrocuting himself. The work progressed slowly, and his rain-stained and muddied glasses didn't help matters any. Eventually, though, that section was done. He reached for another, still half-distracted by listening for enemy forces, and it went on.

When he finished, he hopped down and peeked at her. "I'm not sure we can do anything about the plating, but other than that it looks better. Do you need anything?"

Repairs always did go a lot faster when you had someone to help, and Kaylee trusted Billy as much as she trusted herself when it came to fixing things up. Pleased as pie with their work, Kaylee crawled out from under the tank and grinned back at their work. "Platin's pretty well shot," she agreed. It would have to do, though.

"A break from all this warrin' would be nice, but if wishes were horses..." She glanced up at him, her smile a bit unsure, before she nodded down at her arm. "You any good when it comes to at least cleanin' somethin' up?"

"We could all go horse riding together," he finished wistfully. Billy had always wanted to give horse riding a try, but now was obviously not the time. Maybe someday.

Upon looking at her arm, he nodded. "We all had to learn basic first aid techniques as Rangers, because we couldn't rely on being able to access the medical facility right away." As he said this, he considered how to go about finding bandaging. No immediate source seemed to be available, so he took what he could: sliced a strip off the bottom of his shirt, stuck it out in the rain and washed off the mud, then bit his lip and carefully wiped her arm.

"Do you have any cloth that would be better for bandaging, or should I cut you another slice?"

A nice ride on a horse sounded a whole lot better than their current situation, and Kaylee could only nod in agreement. If only.

Kaylee clenched her teeth and held her breath as the cloth came into contact with the gunshot wound. Luckily, she'd been able to keep it decently clean, and it didn't look as bad as it might have if she hadn't taken any care of it at all. The surrounding area was a bit swollen and red, though, which didn't seem to be a very good start.

It was hard not to pull away from Billy every time the cloth brushed past, but she managed it with only a few winces and whimpers. There were a couple more rags in her pack, and she pulled out the cleanest looking one. "'Bout all I got, but it should work."

Billy felt absolutely terrible about causing yet another friend pain after everything he'd done, but he knew this service was necessary. She might notice that he winced along with her the first few times, and not because his hand was burned.

"I'm sorry, I'm almost done," he murmured, briefly brushing her back with his fingers as he moved to tie the bandage as securely and comfortably as he could. There was an angle he could use to keep it secure without placing too much pressure---there. Done.

"I presume you'll be operating the tank now?" Billy asked, gently tapping her uninjured arm.

As far as Kaylee was concerned, he was helping her more than hurting her. Blistered hands, burned fingers, scrapes and cuts...she could handle all of those on her own without so much as an "ow," but this wasn't exactly a papercut, and it was bound to hurt some for a while.

"Most anybody's done for it so far, so 'M plenty thankful. No need to be apologizin' to me for it. Ain't your fault at all." Under other circumstances, she probably would have ruffled his hair or given his head an affectionate pat. For now, though, she stayed still until he was done.

"I can drive her, not a problem. It'll be good to have to move people about, if nothin' else." She smiled, the smallest bit of unease showing through. "Ain't one for shootin', myself..."

Catching her small discomfort, he nodded. "Sounds good to me. If you need me to, I'll hang around the outside and shoot."

Not that he particularly enjoyed it either, and there was the nagging fear that he'd hit a brainwashed crew member, but when you're a Ranger you learn that certain things need to be done. He'd have time to feel guilt later.

Given that the one time Kaylee had ever attempted to even hold a gun had resulted in her shrinking back into the ship, cowering from the gunfire, and watching River take out three men with little more than a glance in their direction and three well-calculated shots, Kaylee still wasn't sure about firearms of any kind. The idea of taking another life, even that of one of an illusion, didn't stick well with her at all.

"Wouldn't want to put that on ya, Billy. Done enough for me already, 'sides."

"I've been trained to do this," he said regretfully and not entirely truthfully. He'd killed magically mobile clay putties and artificially created aliens, not humanoid warriors whether real or fake. Billy was afraid, and it might show on his face, but he felt making sure everyone was safe was more important.

"I'm concerned about how well that tank can hold together. If it's compromised and you're hurt...if I can help prevent that, I want to." He looked anxiously out at the battlefield, listening to the faraway gunshots. Nothing was coming too close right now, thankfully.

"Tank'll hold together just fine," Kaylee promised, with more confidence than she was actually feeling. The insides of the tank were working just shiny now, but the outside was still rickety. But if you didn't have at least some faith in the ship you were flying (tank you were driving, in this case), then it was bound to fall apart on you.

The mechanic paused only a moment longer before nodding and patting Billy's arm. "If it'll make you feel better to tag along, I won't mind it so much, long as you promise that if it gets too rough you'll get yourself out of trouble, alright?"

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The Battle That Ended The Century

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