Just one more shuttle.
We can hold.
We have to hold.

The sound of someone yelling for immediate evacuation leaked into his comm. He tried to tune-out the distraction and brought his weapon up to his shoulder.

"...hostiles advancing..."

Two shots went down range. We can hold.

"...primary objective complete..."

We have to hold. His blaster barked three more times.

"...majority of civilians..."

Mission BLAT! not BLAT! complete.

"..."

We can hold. BLAT!

"..."

BLAT! We have to hold.

"..."

Just one more shuttle. BLAT!

"..."

The distinct roar of lift jets coming to life came across the landing pad and a shuttle, piloted by the person on the comm, ascended above the ridge-line they were holding which caused the mercenaries to turn to watch.

They knew the consequences, and it didn't take long.

Two hits bypassed the shields to the lightly-armor fuselage just as it cleared the ridge, the thick black goo splattering across the hull and seconds later it was slowly bubbling. The plating was unable to resist the corrosion for very long causing the flight components below to be exposed like an open sore even before three more hits occurred to the same area. The mercenaries behind their emotionless visors continued to watch as the weakened wing supporting the lift jet folded under the force being exerted on it sending the shuttle spiraling forward of the defensive line. It was crawling with them as soon as it touched down and anyone left inside was as good as dead.

Comms were much less distracting after that.

We will hold.

"< Mercury-4 coming in hot, cutting low through the canyon. Fifteen seconds out, >" the call came over the comm.

Time to go.

After the communications shuttle went down their hold on ground had been repeatedly lost. Now all they had left was this last hangar and the attached machine shop and they wouldn't have either for much longer because the heavy metal door on the other side of the airlock began to sag as the same corrosion that brought down the shuttle ate away at it.

"< Docked. Loading initiated. Sixty second second countdown... commence. >"

"Confirmed, beginning extraction," his unit leader responded. A hand signal and the four were backing out of the room, weapons remaining at low ready position. He fell into position: one behind him on either side with one more behind the fortune seeking soldier on the right.

A hole in the airlock developed, its size growing rapidly as serrated claws found gaps and pried at the edges, angry screeches reverberated off the walls of the shop.

Two brought weapons up and engaged as the other two continued to retreat.
"COVER!" he called.
At the call the two retreating found cover and brought weapons up to engage.
"MOVING!" he called out again.
The two on point fell back, reloading when they got behind the firing line.

The choreography continued as they moved for the hangar.

"COVER!"

He and the other mercenary turned to support their retreating team, the combination of his training and his comrade's cybernetic augmentations let them acquire the advancing targets blindingly fast and drop them even faster. They kept firing as the two on point fell back behind the firing line.

"CO-" Long arms reached down and plucked the mercenary beside him up and into the shadows mid-call as another creature dropped down in front of him, it’s maw curled back to bare its teeth. They had gotten in the vents. One clawed fist smashed the blaster out of his hands while the other reached out for him in a race of life and death as he went for his sidearm.

Two hands, weaker hand on belt, strong hand to grip.
Unsnap weapon.
Clear holster straight up. Bring to two handed hold.
Move to target position.
Fire.
BZAT!-BZAT!-BZAT!
Drop to check target over sights.

"MOVING!" His remaining comrades resumed covering fire from the final door while he continued his retreat, discharging into the advancing nightmares that so desperately wanted to drag him into the darkness. Once he was through they sealed the final door and the comm came to life.

"< This is Mercury-4, shuttle is loaded and commencing liftoff procedures. You bounty hunters have 30 seconds to dust off before I leave your sorry choobies behind. >"

They were moving for the open cargo hold when he thought he caught motion in his peripheral vision. Something blue. "Eyes up! Movement!" Turning, he brought his weapon up and scanned the area looking for a target but the hanger before him was empty though the other two troopers had stopped to check for targets as well.

“Contact?” the anxious question from one of them crackled over the comm into his helmet.

“Caught motion in my peripheral,” he responded and swept his blaster over the area in search of his target as a picture in picture replayed the blur, "Sensors are clear, though. I've got nothing."

"Fifteen seconds, let's go!"

Continuing to check for targets as they fell back they reached the airlock without further incident, the door hissing closed as the ship sped off into the atmosphere.

Was it a coincidence? Had he been looking at me, or through me at something? The more questions Princess Luna had the more intrigued she became with the odd creature whose brokenly jarring dreams had caught her attention while she slept and she spent much of her morning drifting through his memories and nightmares on a quest for answers.