Working Title: Guardians Scene and Sequel | Skillshare Projects

Working Title: Guardians Scene and Sequel

Goal

Secure the squad’s extraction route.

Conflict

An enemy squad is occupying part of the route.

Disaster

The enemy force overwhelms the protagonist.

Emotion

The protagonist is angry she was ambushed and afraid her squad will be killed.

Thought

The protagonist must decide between running back to her squad, trying to fight, or escaping in another direction.

Decision

The protagonist decides to flee the ambush and set up one of her own.

Action

The protagonist uses her abilities to flee, find a hiding spot, and communicate a new plan to her squad.

 

 

“Banshee, leave Clockwork to his hacking and sweep our evac route,” Atlas, her squad leader, ordered over their squad’s radio network.

 

“On it,” she replied smartly and gave Clockwork a quick tap on his shoulder then a thumbs up as she turned and left him at the network terminal he’d busied himself with. Back in the drainage tunnels beneath the city streets, the sensor suite built into her helmet automatically integrated the images from a wide range of light spectra into one augmented reality on the inside of her visor. Near total darkness became a high resolution image of the tunnel’s curved walls and concrete columns supporting intersections. It was a stark reminder of how little cover was available should a firefight break out.

 

Two turns and a few hundred meters of walking from where Banshee had left Clockwork, a sudden shaft of light from above caused the image on her visor to shift sharply into a hybrid of the augmented reality used to navigate the darkness and the conventional view in normal light conditions. As Banshee looked up, three more shafts of light appeared in the ceiling as manhole covers were removed at street level. A small metallic sphere about the size of a baseball dropped from each of the newly revealed openings and fell towards her.

 

“Grenades!” Banshee shouted reflexively as her mind processed the scene. She dropped to the ground on her stomach, splashing in the shallow water coating the floor, and shielded herself with a psionic barrier to disperse the energy of the impending blasts. The four explosives detonated as one. A concussive wave crashed over Banshee accompanied by hundreds of jagged metal fragments, but the barrier she erected held and stopped or pushed the fragments around her body and into the wall behind her.

 

As soon as the blast dissipated, Banshee pushed herself forcefully to her feet and started to sprint back the way she had come from. A moment later, gunfire erupted behind her as enemy soldiers repelled down through the manholes behind her. The shots were wild, suppressing fire meant to disrupt and terrorize more than actually hit their target. Still, a few of the supersonic projectiles found their mark and disintegrated against the psionic barrier around Banshee and pinged ineffectually off of her armor plating. A few more shots connected as the first wave of troops hit the ground and took the time to aim their weapons properly. Banshee could feel her barrier failing and her armor alone would not hold out against sustained fire.

 

Banshee split her focus between keeping the telekinetic barrier around her solid and her sprinting strides. Her left foot faltered as her willpower weakened against two bullets striking her simultaneously, but her right foot planted hard and she dove sharply to her left and behind the safety of the meter thick support pillar of the intersection. She wasn’t dead, yet, but she was definitely outmatched here.

 

“Contact,” Banshee barked into her radio as she panted to catch her breath. “Hostile ambush at intersection one. Took some hits, but I’m up,” she completed her report.

 

“Copy,” Atlas answered quickly. “Numbers?”

 

“Wait one,” she answered while consulting the camera and sensor data her armor collected in the exchange. A camera in the back of her helmet helped with situational awareness and in this case recorded how many enemy soldiers had repelled in behind her while she ran. “At least a dozen,” she reported a couple seconds later as she pounded her fist into the wall beside her. “Fragged me then roped in from the ceiling. Either my luck is shit or they knew I was down here. Caught me square in the open.”

 

“We’re just about out,” Atlas replied. “Can you make it back to us?” A sudden burst of gunfire thudded into the support column Banshee was hiding behind as if to emphasize the merit in her leader’s idea.

 

“Affirmative, but do we really want a straight fight with hostages in tow?” she asked, knowing that at least some of the squad’s attention would have to be dedicated to making sure stray bullets or shrapnel didn’t hit one of the two teens they’d inadvertently rescued. “I don’t think I can thin them out, but I might be able to sneak through them and make a mess for you.”

 

“Copy,” Atlas answered. After a brief pause he added, “Do it, but don’t get killed alright? We’ll be out of action for weeks training your replacement,” Atlas joked dryly.

 

“Eh, you could use a break. Fury is probably exhausted from that whole sentence she spoke earlier,” Banshee snarked back before setting her focus exclusively on the task at hand.

 

Quickly, she poked her head out from behind the column just enough for her visor to grab a quick picture before ducking back into safety. Another burst of gunfire impacted near Banshee as retaliation while she consulted the image. Four of the enemies were advancing down the tunnel towards her stacked up in a single column on the same side of path as she was on to minimize her ability to fire at them. The image also showed partial silhouettes of at least four, maybe six, enemies using the columns at the next intersection fifty meters away from her as cover to pin her down. Most of the ground was fairly dry and clear of debris, whatever gods were up there had been kind enough to minimize rainfall before this mission took place. However, the edges of the tunnel were relatively flooded with a centimeter or two of standing water.

 

“Here we go,” Banshee reassured herself and summoned up her willpower to arrange a different kind of psionic barrier around her body. Where the earlier one would push or stop projectiles, now her focus was on light and bending its waves around her body to render herself invisible. Her opponents wouldn’t be able to see her, but they would have no trouble touching her and sound was her real weakness. The material in her boots and armor had been engineered to minimize the sound of her footfalls, but if she stepped into one of the puddles on the ground the splash and resulting sound may as well be alarm bells with neon lights.

 

It felt as though her heart had stopped when Banshee stepped out from around the pillar. She’d used this technique dozens if not hundreds of times before, but it still filled her with anxiety every time, waiting to see if her opponent would shoot her or if she was really invisible. The soldier at the head of the column approaching her was just barely over ten meters away when he looked right through her. He didn’t react, and finally Banshee’s heart started to descend from her throat. That was only the first step, though. She still had over fifty meters to go and much of it would require passing within half a meter of an enemy with an assault rifle leveled and at the ready.

 

Taking deliberate and measured steps, Banshee moved as carefully as she could. A loose pebble that crunched under her boot could mean her death. One of the dozen eyes on her might perceive some faint distortion caused by an imperfection in her light bending field and shine a light at it that would tax her abilities to their limit. Even more likely, one of the soldiers might fire a burst at her previous position, thinking she was still there, and hit her by accident as she traversed the open ground. That thought made her crouch a little lower, and move a little faster.

 

There was a sudden flurry of motion behind her, but Banshee dared not look back at it for fear of losing her focus on the field around her or her foot placement. She spared a brief glance at the small square in the corner of her visor’s display linked to the rear facing camera in her helmet. The team that had been advancing on her just reached the column and announced to their comrades that she was gone. The four of them turned and started walking quickly back towards their squad right down the middle of the tunnel.

 

Cursing silently, Banshee took a step towards the wall with the edge of her boot scant millimeters from falling into the water pooled up in the corner of the wall and floor. She turned her back to the wall and sat back towards it while the four men approached, practically within reach of her already. The muscles in her stomach and legs tensed and fought against themselves as they battled with gravity to keep her armored back from thudding loudly against the wall while she lowered approximately ninety kilograms of combined weight into a stable seated position.

 

One of the approaching men turned his head, looking right at her. Banshee suspected he’d heard the muffled thump of her back hitting the wall. She was relying almost entirely on luck now. With nothing under her legs to support her weight, she was using her legs to push her back into the wall, but she had to maintain perfect stability in that posture to keep her armor from scraping against the concrete. The four soldiers kept walking.

 

Banshee sighed quietly and slowly leaned forward into a crouch before recovering her standing posture. She fell in behind the four men returning to their formation and used the noise and motion of their movement to cover any of her own that she might accidentally make. It worked and she made it through the intersection and the enemy’s new defensive position and out the other side.

 

“Atlas, I’m through,” she reported. “We can catch them in a crossfire when you get here. Cover is a joke so they should go down fast.”

 

“Copy. Good work, Banshee.”

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