Nicoletti Davenport/The Radio Runner
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
Ensign Nicoletti Davenport’s dog tags jingled as she ran, joining the sounds of distant artillery and her own labored breathing. Across her back was slung a heavy field radio, the kind most armies had done away with decades ago. It jarred her frame and nearly threw her off-balance with every step as she made her way from one communications shack to the next.
Behind her were more sounds of battle. She’d barely escaped the last Arcturian ambush, and she had a feeling that even as she moved at a dead sprint, they remained hot on her heels.
“Radio runner,” she mumbled to herself. “This so isn’t what I signed up for.”
A flare shot into the darkened sky a half mile ahead of her, and she sighed in relief—the final drop site was finally within reach. Redoubling her efforts, Nicoletti pushed on through the rubble that had once been a suburban Cygnian town.
Rounding a blind corner, she stopped suddenly, her boots skidding on the pavement as she came to a halt behind a fallen storefront. Panting, her eyes met the Arcturian Stinger that had just come into view; another handful of steps would’ve propelled her straight into it. The turret was already locking onto her position, and guttural orders could be heard from nearby infantry.
“Oh hell,” she muttered, her eyes quickly scanning for options. None of them seemed particularly good, at the moment.
A rifle shot fired over her right shoulder, fraying the strap of her radio. Swearing, she crouched lower to the ground. It was then that she saw her opening. Smiling grimly, she tugged the straps tighter across her chest. She could get around this…maybe.
Shooting herself forward, she ran full-tilt towards the Stinger. The Arcturians took a moment to look at one another before opening fire, and flashes of gunfire exploded just over Nicoletti’s head as she wove through them.
She dove, coming up in a one-handed handspring as she vaulted herself over the barrel of the tank. Just as she regained her footing the shell exploded, raining concrete and thicker things down on the radio. Closing her eyes and shaking her head to clear the ringing in her ears, she continued to stumble towards the next comm shack, now only a hundred yards off.
The Captain of the CMF Lambda Majoris was waving her in with both hands. Nicoletti was exhausted, but she somehow managed to push herself even faster, nearly tripping in her haste to get to cover. Suddenly the Captain froze, and the look in the woman’s eyes couldn’t have meant anything good. Sure enough, more gunfire opened up behind her. Swearing again, she fell on her hands and knees. The heavy field radio pressed her down into the rubble as she crawled over it, now less than fifty yards off. Ahead of her the Captain was barking orders to the men around her, and as she dragged herself on her elbows, the fireteam engaged the Arcturians.
Keeping her head low, she rose into a crouch, shuffling forward as fire was exchanged overhead. The Captain had returned to waving her in, and Nicoletti sighed and crossed herself as she once again sprinted ahead.
“Ten yards,” she told herself. “Only ten bloody yards.”
Lowering herself to one knee, Nicoletti dropped low and slid into the comm shack, mowing the Captain over as she did so. Rolling over onto her side, she panted heavily, her muscles trembling as her shaky fingers unfastened the straps that held the radio. Finally releasing it, she met the Captain’s amused eyes as they both got back to their feet. Saluting, Nicoletti beamed despite her exhaustion.
“Ensign Nicoletti Davenport reporting for duty, ma’am.”
