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“Yeah… you may be right, Carl.” As they lift the stretcher into position, Shep speaks over the external channel—matter-of-fact, calm, like a man giving a field report. “Lieutenant, in case you’re trying to make sense of what you saw—she’s classified as a PCZ, pic-zee. Partial-Conversion Zombie. Not full necro. In rare cases the higher functions can still resurface if you catch it early enough.”

He adjusts his grip as they prepare to take flight. “I didn’t realize that at first contact. Some of the trauma you see is on me. I’ll carry that. But as soon as I saw the human part pushing back, I changed approach.” He angles slightly toward Niko so the man can hear the sincerity without it becoming melodramatic. “My read? She’s fighting to stay on the right side of this. And I intend to give her that chance.”

"Yes, sir," is all the Lieutenant says as they lift off, hover, and fly forward in synchronous speed. Along the way, Nico finally breaks the silence with, "I've seen one of her kind once before. Our team gunned the guy down eventually. Wasn't my idea, but... I had the luxury of not getting to know the guy. The issue is that I never found out whether or not the guy would have changed. But if she does, just know that I won't hesitate to eliminate the threat, sir."

Along the way, Shep notices the verbose event panel displaying Carl's analysis of the differences between the SAMAS vs himself. Eventually he decrees, "At our current rate, we'll reach Camp Wilson in minutes. The wind shouldn't bother Nova. So, the future of my model becomes less aerodynamic, less speed, harder to handle, crappier rounds for the railgun and crappier armor and craftsmanship; all for the sake of a couple missiles? Who's bright idea was that? And where are the guardsmen? Every squad has at least a guardsman unit." Yet, Shep trained in a SAMAS, with emphasis on learning the systems that were similar to the Silver Eagle. There was method in Pete Wilson's teachings.

Carl was correct, with slow acceleration, the trio see the silhouette of the town on the horizon, with smoke billowing up from the western edge within minutes. Several bloodied people shamble out of the town, heading towards Lake Crenshaw. Targeting display tracks five in the foreground and two who're just beginning to shamble out of town. On the east edge of town, an ATV tears around, spinning cookies and dust, leading a group of shambling slouchers out of town, towards the wastes.

Nico flashes the symbol to slow down. They're just under one mile from town.

Shep digs through the fragments of memory resurfacing from his dad’s old SAMAS lessons, mixed with whatever scraps of procedure he’s pieced together from outdated manuals and military fiction in the library. With Carl quietly filling in the gaps, he assembles something that he hopes still passes for a standard signal.

He raises two fingers, then pulls them into a closed fist — a gesture he hopes means “change vector and redirect.” Whether it’s correct or not, it’s the best he’s got.

He begins a gentle bank toward the squat building that houses the clinic and surgical center, praying it hasn’t been overrun. It’s the best chance at a makeshift triage point — supplies, shelter, and hopefully someone who can keep Nova alive. With any luck, the doctor made it there before things went bad.

A fleeting thought crosses Shep's mind. Carl had a good point. Where was the rest of Niko's squad and why didn't he identify his CO when Shep commanded him to. A puzzle that will have to wait until later because they have more pressing matters for now.

Shep digs through the fragments of memory resurfacing from his dad’s old SAMAS lessons, mixed with whatever scraps of procedure he’s pieced together from outdated manuals and military fiction in the library. With Carl quietly filling in the gaps, he assembles something that he hopes still passes for a standard signal. He raises two fingers, then pulls them into a closed fist — a gesture he hopes means “change vector and redirect.” Whether it’s correct or not, it’s the best he’s got.

He begins a gentle bank toward the squat building that houses the clinic and surgical center, praying it hasn’t been overrun. It’s the best chance at a makeshift triage point — supplies, shelter, and hopefully someone who can keep Nova alive. With any luck, the doctor made it there before things went bad.

A fleeting thought crosses Shep's mind. Carl had a good point. Where was the rest of Niko's squad and why didn't he identify his CO when Shep commanded him to. A puzzle that will have to wait until later because they have more pressing matters for now.

Eventually, the two come to a complete stop. Nico lands and gently sets Nova down. He faces Shep and states, "We need to clear a path without worrying about her. Do you want to guard her? Leave her here and we both go together? Or drag her with while fighting these things together? I don't know how you do things in your group, but we usually have a combat medic to assist. We lost ours several months back so I figured you have one."

Shep picks up the sounds of occasional gunfire. The four wheeler spots Shep and Lt. Mikado and begins racing in their direction. Nico nods towards it, "You know em?"

“First off,” Shep says, sharper than he means to, “I told you—I’m forward recon and I have medical training. The rest of my squad isn’t here, and with my radio down I can’t raise anyone until things stabilize.”

OOC: My intent was to get her to the town clinic and assess the situation there to see if we can leave her in someone's care. What happened to that?

“First off,” Shep says, sharper than he means to, “I told you—I’m forward recon and I have medical training. The rest of my squad isn’t here, and with my radio down I can’t raise anyone until things stabilize.”

"Ah, I forgot, sir." Nico picks the stretcher back up, "Lead the way. My adrenaline is picking up. Would you like me to take point once we get there?"

Shep knows that the clinic is right in the middle of town, which will make it more difficult to avoid the infected. The four wheeler approaches carrying two individuals. Shep recognises Hughe at the handlebars. Ryan sits on the back, carrying a hunting rifle and a little league aluminum bat. The left side of his face is so badly swollen that his left eye may be shut.

Shep can almost sense that the Lieutenant is anxious to eliminate the zombie threat, as per his conditioning.

OOC: Taking the slight pause to get possible backup, information and tactical planning.

Shep’s attention flicks from the ATV to the outline of the clinic ahead, weighing risk against speed. While he talks, he sweeps the building with the Silver Eagle's array of optics, asking Carl to give his analysis as well. “First thing we do is get eyes on the clinic,” he says. “If the building’s still intact and secure, we take her straight there. No sense dragging her through the streets if we don’t have to. Since zombies can’t fly… that I know of… getting in isn’t the problem. It’s what might be waiting inside that worries me.”

His throat tightens—barely, but enough that he notices it inside the suit. The smoke, the shambling shapes, the flashes of old chaos bleeding into the present—it hits him in a way he doesn’t have time to deal with. He forces himself to breathe, grounding his posture and tone. He nods toward the ATV kicking up dust on the east side of town. “Once she’s safe, we regroup with whoever’s still standing. The locals are already in the fight whether they want to be or not—we get them organized and pull civilians back under cover. Pretty sure that’s Hughe and Ryan. They don’t look infected.”

Another glance toward the clinic; another quiet worry he pushes aside. “After that, we start clearing. Anything threatening civilians is first priority, then the ones drifting toward Lake Crenshaw.” His helmet turns toward Nico. “Where’s the rest of your squad? If they can mobilize, we could have them sweep up from Crenshaw toward Camp Wilson while we push from this side. The faster we close the gap, the better chance we have of containing this.”

Shep’s attention flicks from the ATV to the outline of the clinic ahead, weighing risk against speed. While he talks, he sweeps the building with the Silver Eagle's array of optics, asking Carl to give his analysis as well. “First thing we do is get eyes on the clinic,” he says. “If the building’s still intact and secure, we take her straight there. No sense dragging her through the streets if we don’t have to. Since zombies can’t fly… that I know of… getting in isn’t the problem. It’s what might be waiting inside that worries me.”

The optics reveal that the building is fairly well surrounded by at least half a dozen undead. Inside, there are thermal signatures moving about, but Shep is unsure if they're people or something else. Carl does his best analysis, "Well kiddo, I would say that there is a 75% probability that there are survivors in nearly every secure building with solid windows and doors, otherwise, people hiding in secure rooms. In two days, the first of the people will die of thirst, followed by people dying two weeks later from malnutrition. But first things first. Our best avenue of entry is to cut a hole in the roof of the clinic or find a way in from there." Shep remembers that there is an access hatch on the roof, in case of emergencies or the creek overflowing which hasn't happened since near his childhood.

His throat tightens—barely, but enough that he notices it inside the suit. The smoke, the shambling shapes, the flashes of old chaos bleeding into the present—it hits him in a way he doesn’t have time to deal with. He forces himself to breathe, grounding his posture and tone. He nods toward the ATV kicking up dust on the east side of town. “Once she’s safe, we regroup with whoever’s still standing. The locals are already in the fight whether they want to be or not—we get them organized and pull civilians back under cover. Pretty sure that’s Hughe and Ryan. They don’t look infected.”

Nico nods, "Hughe and Ryan. They're just kids!" He sounds impressed.

Another glance toward the clinic; another quiet worry he pushes aside. “After that, we start clearing. Anything threatening civilians is first priority, then the ones drifting toward Lake Crenshaw.” His helmet turns toward Nico. “Where’s the rest of your squad? If they can mobilize, we could have them sweep up from Crenshaw toward Camp Wilson while we push from this side. The faster we close the gap, the better chance we have of containing this.”

"I'll mobilize them now." Nico pauses for a moment, then states, "We have two more armored units on the way, along with three armed personnel; fully locked and loaded. I've instructed them to use conventional tactics to preserve the town and its people. With that said, shall we get her to safety?"

Shep notices Nova holding onto consciousness, but irritated by the dust and wind from the vertical thrusters.

“Roger that,” Shep says, trying to keep his voice steady and authoritative without overplaying what he doesn’t actually know. “We’ll head for the roof of the clinic. The entry points look like they might be holding for now, and there should be an access point on the roof.” He angles the Silver Eagle toward the building, projecting confidence he hopes reads as standard protocol rather than guesswork. “Once we’re there, we use the hatch to check the interior first—make sure it’s secure before we bring her in. I can get her stabilized again or hand her off to the doctor if he’s still alive.”

He shifts the suit’s grip on the stretcher, making sure Nova’s shielded from the thruster wash as much as possible. “While I’m doing that, you start clearing the undead outside the clinic. If the building’s still safe, we can use it as a triage center and a rally point for any civilians we pull out.” He hopes he sounds like someone who knows exactly what he’s doing—someone who’s supposed to be giving these orders. The mission demands it, and right now, that has to be enough.

As he prepares to lead the way to the clinic, he remembers the ATV heading their direction. “We also need to loop in the local kids, Hughe and Ryan. I’ll signal them once we’re airborne again to follow us, but we’ll need to keep an eye out in case it looks like they’re heading for trouble.” Shep knows that any battle plan rarely survives first contact, so they’ll have to remain fluid and adjust their tactics as the situation evolves.

“Roger that,” Shep says, trying to keep his voice steady and authoritative without overplaying what he doesn’t actually know. “We’ll head for the roof of the clinic. The entry points look like they might be holding for now, and there should be an access point on the roof.” He angles the Silver Eagle toward the building, projecting confidence he hopes reads as standard protocol rather than guesswork. “Once we’re there, we use the hatch to check the interior first—make sure it’s secure before we bring her in. I can get her stabilized again or hand her off to the doctor if he’s still alive.”

He shifts the suit’s grip on the stretcher, making sure Nova’s shielded from the thruster wash as much as possible. “While I’m doing that, you start clearing the undead outside the clinic. If the building’s still safe, we can use it as a triage center and a rally point for any civilians we pull out.” He hopes he sounds like someone who knows exactly what he’s doing—someone who’s supposed to be giving these orders. The mission demands it, and right now, that has to be enough.

Nico assists as they lift Nova airborne, she seems to find it exciting, but winces at the pain everytime she moves.

As he prepares to lead the way to the clinic, he remembers the ATV heading their direction. “We also need to loop in the local kids, Hughe and Ryan. I’ll signal them once we’re airborne again to follow us, but we’ll need to keep an eye out in case it looks like they’re heading for trouble.” Shep knows that any battle plan rarely survives first contact, so they’ll have to remain fluid and adjust their tactics as the situation evolves.

The ATV drives nearly under them, Shep can hear Hughe cry out, "Hey! Help us! Something's turning our town into monsters! Please!"

"Stay calm, friend. We've got you covered. Lt. Colonel Daniels and I have done this at least a few times." Nico broadcasts, inadvertently providing a cover for Shep as Ryan seems to have a look that screams, "Is that... Shep?" but eases up once Nico secures his cover. Nico unsheathes and flips a vibroblade down next to them, "Use that if any come near, but be careful, it cuts through anything. The red trigger activates the vibrations, kinda like an electric turkey carver."

"A what?" Hughe asks.

Shep and Nico increase their altitude to at least 150 feet into the air, making the town look rather small. Nico's SAMAS is so clunky and slow compared to the Silver Eagle. As they synchronously land on the roof of the clinic, Shep notices that the sand from previous dust storms has created an inch thick layer of wind eroded sand and soil. The hatch is near the northwestern edge of the building, which is fairly decent sized. Nico proceeds to set Nova down, turns to Shep and asks, "Sir, do we go down together to provide cover? Or one of us stay up here and guard her?"

“She should be safe up here as long as she’s strapped in and can’t move around,” Shep says. He does a quick sweep of the rooftop—matching the view against memory—checking for any exterior ladder, maintenance access, or anything that might let something climb up from the ground.