Nymboida Extraction

“I’m sorry about before, didn’t mean to-,”
“Doesn’t matter any more,” Creed snarls.
“Look! I was just trying to help, not my fault she drowned!” Lee, Tango Squad’s radio assistant babbles on.
“Silent back there!,” Roth, the squad’s Scout, barks at his subordinates, “Keep your eyes on the lookout! There are Scarpers about,” Tango Squad immediately falls into defensive postures, their orange visors scanning their surrounds with practised vigilance. The five humans walk in single file, zombies trudging through the woods.
The air in the forest is thick with a washed-out-blue fog. Everything from the moss-covered ground to the top of the jungle canopy is dripping with perspiration as if nature were breaking out in a cool sweat. Tango squad battles through the thick shrubbery, using large daggers to cut away at the vines that seem to entangle them.
“Really, I’m sorry-,” Lee whispers so Roth won’t hear. Yet Roth’s ears prick up at the sound of the recruits insubordination. His jaw clenches and his grip on his gun tightens.
“I said, be quiet!” Roth yells. They fall back into silence.
The five humans walk out of the claustrophobic forest into a narrow clearing overlooking a wide valley. The gaping ravine is covered in ferns and hairy shrubs, tussling in the whistling wind that channels through the gap. At the base of the ravine, a burbling creek slithers between fanged rocks. On the other side, a downed Raptor broken in two hangs precariously from a web of vines and branches. Roth’s mayday beacon bleeps ecstatically.
“She’s in there,” Roth remarks, his voice trembling. His hand quakes as he beckons Lee over.
“What is it boss,” Lee chides, swaggering over.
“You’re coming with me,” he orders, then to the other three, “Wait for us here and call us if you… if there’s any trouble.”
Roth trudges in panther steps across a fallen log bridge. In the distance, the pounding of a waterfall against rock drums out all other noise. Lizards, larger than the crashed jet, glide though the valley on giant batwings, screeching profanely. Lee gazes at the beautiful falls, amazed at its elegance. Roth’s heart pounds furiously inside him, his mouth drooling with impatient anticipation.
Roth halts in his tracks in the middle of the bridge, turning to face the radio-staff, “When were you emancipated Lee?”
“Sorry sir?” Lee is taken aback by the question, “I don’t think this is the time to discuss my history,”
“No,” Roth menaces, “This is the perfect time,” there is a cold silence between the two anxious men.
“What’s going on, boss?”
“I’ve read your files, Jake. We both know that there’s no place for you on this team knowing your history…” Roth draws his silenced pistol levelling it with Lee's visor, “The way I see it, I shoot you now and you die a painless death. Or you jump and you just might survive,”
“Don’t like your choices Roth,”
“How about I choose then,” Lee's visor explodes in orange and red.

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