“I wonder what kind of bet Ordese has riding on this,” Cain mumbled to himself.  No one responded. Opting to take the stairs instead of the turbolifts, they reached the second floor.  Approaching the third door on the left, Blackbird tossed Mansel an explosive.  “Put one in there,” he instructed.  The other four covered him as he snuck up to the door.  Reciting a silent prayer, he opened the door. And immediately cursed when the motion sensor alarm sounded. All the lights snapped on, startling the small team.  They heard pounding overhead-- the sound of boots hitting the ground on the floor above.  “Guard’s barracks must be on the next floor,” Cain observed.  “Run!” “Fall back!” Blackbird shouted, sounding more appropriate.  “Forget the explosives!  Just run!” They made back the way they had came, guns at the ready.  Vaughn, who was the first to reach the stair door, shot the first guard that was coming up.  The chubby Commander hopped over the hapless victim’s body and bounded down the stairs. Blackbird was next out the door.  He tore out and made a dash for the front door.  A shot from the left prevented him from getting to it.  Throwing himself behind a sofa, he began to exchange shots with his would-be assassin.  Cain, coming out a few seconds behind Blackbird, eliminated the Captain’s problem with two quick shots to the head. Brungess, rolling out the door in a style that only he could manage, took refuge behind one of the two desks that sat in the middle of the room.  Turning his head from where a close shot chipped at the wood, he fired back and took cover again.  The turbolift opened and he opened fire as soon as the first body stepped out. Mansel, who was last, dashed past Cain and popped a trio of guards coming through the door. The five congregated right at the door.  “To the fall back point!” instructed Blackbird.  The five spilled out the door with reckless abandon and ran at top speeds for the woods near the shuttles. Mansel and Cain took refuge behind a delivery truck.  Cain reloaded as Mansel covered for him, then rejoined the fray. Blackbird and Brungess had throw themselves behind a big tree.  Downing two guards, Blackbird quickly made his way to another cover spot, this time a small bush.  Coming from his cover, he shot, missed, and ducked to avoid getting hit. Commander Vaughn was the first to reach the woods unharmed, with the exception of a twisted ankle.  Eyeing his pick, he came from his spot and hobbled as best he could to his shuttle of choice, shooting the whole way.  Quickly overriding the door systems, he hopped in and made his way to the controls. Blackbird was still firing when Cain came up behind him.  “This didn’t work at all,” the alternate Executive Officer said, glancing at Blackbird.   “A plan is just a list of things that don’t happen.” The Captain nodded.  “Right, he said.” “Sorry guys,” said Mansel, crawling up behind them.  “This one’s my fault.” “No way you knew man,” Cain said, reloading and firing again.  With dead precision, he put one through a guard’s left eye. “This bush won’t last forever,” Blackbird commented.  “Where’s Vaughn and Brungess?” Mansel risked a quick look.  “Don’t see them,” he reported, dropping back down.  “Maybe--” The roar of a shuttlecraft filled their ears as Vaughn neared the bush.  Using the shuttle’s defense systems, he fired a round at the guards, scattering and disorienting them all.  Using the shuttle as cover, the three dashed for it.  Brungess wasn’t far behind, coming from some invisible cover, hopping in last and closing the door. “Good job, TJ,” said Mansel in greeting, sitting down in the copilot’s seat.  “Time for us to bow out.” Vaughn gunned the engines and the small shuttle took off, the potshots the guards snapped of not having any effect. “We’ll most definitely encounter space resistance,” said Blackbird, appearing in the cockpit.  “What’s the armaments on this rock?” “Not anything to take on a starship,” Vaughn responded.  The shuttle buffeted as the surface-to-air weaponry fired upon them from the roof of the UN building.  “Extra added problems,” Vaughn mumbled. “Keep the pattern erratic,” instructed Brungess , cramming himself into the cockpit.  “Mansel, se if you can raise the Stealthlon.” “Already tried,” reported the starship captain. “And?” “Static.  Maradine has already jammed communications.” “We’re sitting ducks,” said Cain, filing into the stuffed cockpit.  “This isn’t looking good.”