Dedika was not surprised.  Few things were left to catch her off guard.  Bureaucratic abandonment was not one of those things.  Soldiers were meant to die and commanders were meant to live on to send more soldiers to die for their causes.  Perhaps those around her had expected something different for the elitism of the badge they wore.  The armor on their backs was worth more than their lives and she nearly wanted to laugh while the man desperately called for evacuation.  Already the ship had retreated twice.  Brave pilots did not last long.  Dedika had seen many laid out across the landscape of her homeland.  Glancing up she knew that smart pilots did just what this one was doing.  Her targeting array locked onto the fleeting figure while it speed away.  Around her flashes of red flickered to life on her display.  Enemies approached for the wounded meat.<br/><br/>The members of the squad meant little to her.  Only two were anything more than children playing at soldier.  Of those two the only one who mattered to Dedika lay dead at her feet.  Grasped in his helmet was the signal which kept her alive.  A leash meant to ensure that she kept her end of the deal, to fight instead of run.  Normally the range was quite extensive to allow her some combat effectiveness, but this man seemed to believe that keeping her close might save his body.  Truly unfortunate for him then that the reason for his death involved the top portion of a building.  Unfortunate for her too while her once zealous comrades now discussed leaving her here.  Truth was she could not blame them for the desire to run.  If given the chance she would have left before the discussion was even brought up.<br/><br/>“Look, we’re sorry but we have to move.  We’ll come back for you.  We promise.”<br/><br/>This time she did laugh.  She laughed loud enough that her voice echoed from under the metal sheen of her helmet.  When they scrambled over the rubble she was still laughing.  Were she able to remove the helmet that covered her features, Dedika would have spit at them.  Instead she remained in her armored tomb, laughing while her death echoed in digital climax across her display.  The weight of her rifle was comforting in her grasp while so many targets came to life.  Fingers grew tense along the trigger and her smile nearly showed through.  She would die here, but at least her funeral would be quite a show.<br/><br/>Pity too.  She was supposed to have been transferred today.  The thought was fleeting while her rifle opened up in a thunderous roar.<br/>