FSE

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Alrighty, and chapter three of hat I had done, now that Sofurry is back up and running. As always, I hope you enjoy it.

As always, comments are appreciated and requested.

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continued from 'Turning the Tide'...

11-16-3015

Time Index; 0855 hours GST

Tare Pharmaceuticals space port

Sython system, Merxian space

Tyr ducked his head back quickly around the corner of the hanger, large caliber bullets chewing chunks off the edge of the structure. Shaking his head, the coyote officer backed up from the edge, allowing another Ranger to take over his position. Absently biting his lip, the Colonel knelt and tapped the screen of the computer built into his forearm armor. Despite the crack that was the result of the armor piece protecting his arm from something during the dropship crash, the display blinked to life, displaying a wireframe of the buildings surrounding his position, the sensor system built into his armor showing the positions of his troops, the encrypted micro transponders each soldier wore showing them as green dots in his display.

A half kilometer behind him, where the main terminal of the spaceport had been built, he could see the positions where his mortar and support crews were setting up, as well as the transponders from 4th company and the rest of his headquarters contingent, which were pinned down behind the three buildings around him, a mere block from the garage where the retreating Black Claws had gathered. Unfortunately, despite the momentum provided by the sudden drop of the Merxian Spec Ops troops onto the spaceport, Tyr's group could go no further, pinned down by defensive fire coming out from the mercenary position. A full kilometer in the other direction, about as close as his group had gotten to the Black Claw Headquarters, the troops of 3rd and 5th companies, led by Major Larn, were similarly pinned down. Captain Saros, commanding 1st and 2nd companies, had come in from yet another direction, and, judging from what the Captain had reported, they had caught the worst of the fire. Glancing back at the gap between buildings where he had just been standing, the coyote shook his head once again, wincing slightly. Laid out between the hanger that was sheltering him and the maintenance garage next door were a half dozen Rangers who had been caught out in the open when the Black Claws had revealed just why they deserved their reputation for nastiness in a fight.

At first, the Black Claw mercenaries in the main terminal had put up the most serious resistance, managing not only to hold the Rangers assaulting the building at bay, but to also harass Tyr's group with sniper fire from the tower, keeping them pinned behind the carcass of the dropship. But, when the remaining companies of Tyr's battalion had landed, the Rangers had swarmed over the terminal and the surrounding buildings like a wave over a sandcastle, storming the positions so fast that the Black Claws had hardly had a chance to react before the Rangers were on them. Only a few of the hundred or so Black Claws in those buildings had made it out, retreating back towards the garage, the rest either dying where they stood or surrendering and Tyr had hoped that the rest of the assault would go as quickly. To keep the mercenaries from retreating, the Colonel had divided his Rangers into three groups, planning to attack from multiple directions. Unfortunately, as the leading squad of Rangers had come into view of the garage, the nondescript building had revealed itself to be a heavily armed fortress as no less than eight heavy autocannons had popped out of the corners of the building, the rotary guns shredding the exposed Rangers. To make matters worse, sections of armor plating that had been cunningly painted to blend in with the walls of the garage had been drawn back, revealing firing slits like those in a pillbox, and from what Tyr had just seen, they covered every approach to the garage. And, to top it all off, he had gotten a glimpse of sniper teams setting up on the roof as well.

The coyote had never expected the Black Claws to have built such a fortified structure here, although he supposed he should have suspected that there would have been more to it than just a garage. It had been a long time, centuries in fact, since heavy fortifications had been considered a standard precaution in most places. As impressive as fortifications could be, the problem with them was that they were stationary, and highly vulnerable to more mobile strike forces. What was more, single fortifications like this one could easily be bypassed altogether. In fact, the only occasion in which fortifications were considered a good idea, was when they could completely dominate an area, like being set up on a mountain top, or at the juncture of several roads through otherwise impassible terrain. But here, as one building among many, the fortress would have been a tremendous waste of resources under most circumstances.

If Tyr's unit had been a part of a normal planetary assault force, the building would not have been much of a problem. The Rangers could have just kept the enemy contained within it and called in tanks to reduce its fortifications to rubble, or called in an airstrike to do the same thing. Or, they could even just level it with concentrated artillery or an orbital strike. But Tyr didn't have any of those options. All he had was a single battalion of Rangers. Granted, the Rangers were braver and fiercer than almost any other unit of light infantry in the galaxy, and would either take an objective or die trying. But even with their legendary reputation, the Rangers were just infantry, and no single battalion of infantry, not matter how tough or well-trained, could have taken that building alone and unsupported. Their mortars, and even their antitank rockets, didn't carry enough punch to blow through the reinforced walls of the garage, though they might stand a chance of taking out the autocannons. But, as of right now, there was nothing at all that they could do, except wait, and watch, and hope that the Black Claws didn't have many more surprises in store for them.

"Colonel," The voice of his giant wolf XO said, coming over the comm line along with the distinctive whirring roar of the autocannons. "We have linked up on the flank with Saros' group, but that building is locked down tight on our side."

"Casualties?" Tyr asked, manipulating the wireframe view on the small computer screen on his arm, trying to see some weakness that would let them get in past the Black Claws' defenses. Shaking his head once again, Tyr had to agree with the Major. It certainly looked like the Black Claws had covered everything.

"A few KIAs." The wolf replied, "Not too bad, considering."

"Good." Tyr said, thinking hard, the fingers of his left hand tapping on the back of his right, an old habit he had acquired when trying to coordinate grand strategy. The one advantage they had over the Black Claws at the moment was that their dropships were still loitering in-atmosphere. Special Ops dropships carried a pair of linked autocannons as well as rocket pods, weapons that allowed them to secure landing zones, and at least keep tanks and other vehicles busy, if not quite enough to destroy them outright. But even if all of their dropships were to concentrate their fire on the building, it was doubtful that they could break through the armored protection it sported, no more than the Rangers could. What was more, the Rangers still had yet to locate the missile battery that had shot down Tyr's dropship when this whole thing started, which meant it had probably been pulled back near to the garage as the Rangers had landed. Such a weapon system was too much of a hazard to risk, especially since they couldn't be sure their weren't more of them out there.

Still, if they managed to coordinate the airborne strafing run with a massed ground assault, they might just have a chance of storming their way in while the defenders were dealing with the dropships. But such a tactic would leave a lot of dead Rangers scattered over the tarmac, and many more dropships wrecked. Unfortunately, that might be the only way. They couldn't risk waiting around for more Black Claws to arrive, and with the Adaron under attack in orbit, the Rangers had nowhere to go where they could be sure of being safe. If the Black Claws were able to operate this freely in a core system, then the Marines probably couldn't trust anyone nearby that would have the ability to help them. Tyr was just selecting the communications circuit for the dropship wing to set up the strafing run when the chiropteran senior sergeant standing beside the coyote suddenly perked up, gazing up at the sky like he was looking for something. Tyr stopped, watching the soldier with concern as the bat unclipped his helmet, lifting it off his head, his large conical ears twitching this way and that as they were freed.

"Sir..." He eventually said, squinting into the distance suspiciously. "I think I hear fighters."

"What?" Tyr asked, staring incredulously at him. "Oh that's fantastic. As if things couldn't get any worse." Black Claw fighters joining the fight would be the final nail in the coffin for the Rangers. Without allied fighters of their own to cover them, the Rangers would have no choice but to take cover in the buildings, and then they would be the ones bottled up, to say nothing about what the fighters could do to the dropships. And if they got penned up in buildings like that, the Rangers would be forced to do what Rangers always did when they were backed into a corner; die to the last man. Taking his helmet off as well to listen, Tyr suddenly swore. Now, he could hear the distinctive, growing roar of space fighters as well. He was just about to activate his communications system to tell his Rangers to fall back when the cyber implant behind his jaw buzzed.

"Turlion Zero-one, are you receiving?" A familiar, feminine voice asked and he almost laughed from relief. "I repeat, this is Redhawk leader, Turlion Zero-one, do you read?"

"Redhawk one, this is Turlion Zero-one." Tyr replied, a broad grin spreading across his face. "General, please tell me those are your fighters I hear."

"They are indeed Colonel." Katy's voice said and Tyr heard the Ranger at the corner give a whoop of joy, the fox soldier pointing into the sky. Looking up, Tyr saw what had him so excited. In the sky far above them, looking all the world like a distant swarm of insects, were dozens of small ships, growing steadily larger by the moment until their outlines became distinctly that of Merxian fighters, led by a squadron of interceptors. Even better, the one in the lead was painted in the distinctive orange and red paintjob of a fighter ace. A moment later, the lead squadron flew directly overhead, and the vixen's voice continued. "The battle in orbit is well taken care of, but it looks like you are having some trouble. Need a hand?"

"An airstrike or three wouldn't go amiss." The coyote commented, trying not to sound too relieved, slumping back and settling down with his back against the smooth hanger wall, drawing in a deep breath, the hopeless weight that had been growing in his chest suddenly lifting.

"Let us know where, the bombers are on their way." Katy replied. "Anything else you need?"

"Targeting coordinates uplinking now." Tyr said, tapping the four corners of the Black Claw building in his display, the sensor system of his armor dropping sensor tags on those points. "Can you lock down the perimeter of the Research Complex? We have to keep their leaders from running until we can get at them."

"Coordinates received." Katy replied after a moment. "And I'll have my fighters close down the perimeter. No one is going to leave unless we want them to. Good luck Colonel, and happy hunting."

"Watch yourself General, they have at least one antiaircraft missile battery concealed around the spaceport." Tyr warned, watching as the last group of twelve ships got larger and larger, resolving themselves into the familiar shapes of light bombers incoming onto the combat zone. Putting his helmet back onto his head, he activated his comm system once more, selecting the battalion-wide circuit. "Alright Rangers, listen up. The bombers are going to clear a path for us. As soon as they hit, we go in."

A chorus of acknowledgements came over his ears and Tyr joined the queue of Rangers stacking up on the corner of the building, right beside the bat sergeant, the chiropteran slipping the helmet onto his head as he got into position. The steady, throaty roar of the bomber's engines got louder and louder as the slow moving ships came closer, finally growing so loud that it could be felt through the tarmac as they passed overhead. The neat, almost circular formation of large ships split into wedges of three above the building, the small groups each flying off in a different direction from the corners, almost mimicking the petals of a flower bud opening in the morning. Tyr smiled grimly a moment later as he saw the bombers all begin the wide, sweeping turns that would bring them onto their targets, the ordinance bay doors in the belly of each sliding back like gaping maws, from which could sprout tremendous destruction.

Friendly bombers, despite their slow, un-maneuverable reputation, were a welcome sight to ground forces, especially infantry formations, since, with few exceptions, it meant that even the most powerful of obstacles had little chance of surviving the next few minutes. These particular bombers were unofficially called 'Split-tails' by the pilots that flew them, so named because of their distinctive bifurcated engine assemblies, designed so that the thrust of the engines could be directly vectored like a set of thrusters, allowing for faster turns and more maneuverability than other bomber designs, and therefore, in theory at least, better survivability in extended battles. Originally, they had even been meant to be a medium bomber, however, the odd design had required that the designers limit their overall payload or else lose their maneuverability. But all the same, with dozens of missiles of varying sizes mounted in rotary launchers and half a dozen torpedoes each, the Split-tails could do terrible things to large or stationary targets. Gently pushing aside the memories of the few horrible occasions in his career when he himself had been on the receiving end of such an onslaught, Tyr allowed himself to feel a brief moment of pity for the mercenaries.

However, all such sentiments vanished immediately when a large missile shot into view from the other side of the hanger, soaring up to engulf one of the bombers in the wedge nearest to Tyr in a brilliant explosion. A heartbeat later, even as the other two bombers in the wedge loosed missiles of their own in reply, the craft emerged from the explosion, most of its right wing missing, trailing smoke from a dozen points on the hull. Wincing as the bomber nosed over into an uncontrolled dive, heading right for the far end of the spaceport, the coyote watched the smoke trail as it descended to the tarmac, hoping that the bomber crew had survived. A moment later, the combined shockwave of eleven missiles hitting within a fraction of a second of each other was enough to bring Tyr's mind back to what he was about to do, the impact staggering the waiting soldiers, even shielded as they were by the hanger.

Opening his jaw in a motion almost like a yawn, Tyr shook his head to clear the sudden pressure in his ears, forcing a breath into his lungs at the same moment, feeling like he had just been kicked in the chest. It took the Rangers a few more seconds to recover, then, with a wavering roar that grew steadily louder as more soldiers shook off the impact, the first Rangers in the lines rushed around the corners of the hanger at top speed. From the utter lack of return fire coming out from the building, Tyr could tell that the bombers had done their deadly work all too well. When Tyr had been a young captain, and a recent graduate of Ranger school, he had often been one of the first in after a breach, something that his soldiers had seemed to appreciate, foolish though it was. Now though, with years of experience under his belt, and a post as battalion CO, he knew better than that. Only after 4thcompany's B platoon had gone around the corner did Tyr start to move, the other members of his headquarters following him. When the coyote officer finally rounded the corner, he felt a grim sort of satisfaction rise at the sight that greeted him through the dust cloud kicked up by the airstrike.

The hidden fortress that had looked so impregnable only minutes before hardly looked like a building anymore, much less a defendable strong point. The four corners of the structure were little more than piles of rubble obscured by the settling dust, the cloud lit from within by Ranger fire as they stormed inside, the upper floors barely supported by a few meters of intact wall on each side. The core of the structure was probably still solid, so it wasn't going to collapse any time soon, but the fortress was no longer anything of the sort. What was more, there was no sign whatsoever of the autocannons that had so neatly kept his men contained, and Tyr made a mental note to thank Katy when he saw her. If her fighters hadn't come when they did, then his entire battalion would probably be fighting for their lives in a losing battle by now.

Slowing his pace as he passed the near corner of the hanger, the Colonel took a moment to look at the mobile SAM site that had come so close to killing him in his dropship, one of his Ranger squads already swarming over it, a pair of them dragging the struggling operator out of his hatch by his helmet, probably choking him with the straps in the process. Why the Black Claw hadn't fired the other four missiles that were loaded and ready on the launcher, Tyr couldn't guess, but he counted it as a blessing, seeing how much damage it had already done. Moving up to the wall near the mouth of the rubble strewn hole in the building, the coyote paused again, bringing up the comm frequency of the circling fighters.

"Turlion Zero-one to bomber group." He began, flicking his rifle back over to burst fire. "Good effect on target. Much obliged. We've neutralized the antiaircraft battery as well."

"Copy that Turlion Zero-one," The leader of the bomber squadron replied. "We will stay on station for close air support as needed. Thunderstrike leader out."

Grinning slightly to himself, the coyote officer walked around the corner and into the guts of the building, his rifle settled against his shoulder, but he doubted he was going to need it. This end of the structure seemed to have been an armory, judging from all the wreckage that used to be weapon racks scattered throughout the room. A fire team of four Rangers had taken up positions as guards to hold the entryway, the corporal in charge giving a nod of respect as he passed, a gesture that Tyr returned, stepping over a black armored corpse that looked wholly untouched. The horrific impact of the bomber's warheads in such a confined space would have been more deadly than the flying debris, the compression wave enough to shatter bone. The corridor beyond what should have been secured doors was strewn with even more rubble, and a couple more black armored bodies, their armor filled with bloody holes and plasma burns. Tyr walked along at an easy pace, alert for anything that the assaulting Rangers had missed, but not terribly concerned about the remaining mercenaries.

The sound of fighting was already dying out, the sudden assault by so many Rangers cutting through the remaining defenses of the mercenaries too quickly for much resistance. About halfway down the hall, the Ranger officer suddenly froze, his rifle up, sighted in on the door at the end of the corridor, his staff taking up similar positions behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, Tyr had caught a brief glimpse of movement. Settling his finger on the trigger, Tyr waited, staring at the small window in the door, then he lowered the weapon, the other Marines relaxing as well as the distinctive grey armored form of a Ranger pushed open the door, revealing a stairway behind him. Tyr took a step to the side, standing against the wall as the Ranger led a long line of Black Claws through the door, several of them wounded, but most of them just seeming shaken, their posture more confused than anything. Most of the helmetless mercenaries had their heads down, their ears folded into submissive positions, not needing much prodding from their escorts.

"We barely even got up the stairs before they were throwing down their weapons." A passing Ranger commented to his Colonel, sounding disappointed. "Wouldn't even call it a firefight, much less a battle."

"Cheer up, sergeant," Tyr said, unable to help the grin that was spreading across his face. That was the classic attitude of the Rangers, always ready for a challenge, whether they really felt that way or not. "I'm sure the rest of the Black Claws will give you more of a fight when we find them."

"I hope so sir." The soldier replied over his shoulder, prodding one of the mercenaries who had slowed down with his rifle barrel. "Hate to think we came all this way for nothing." Tyr was about to reply to the soldier's banter when his comm crackled to life once more.

"Turlion Zero-one, this is Zero-two. Can you join me on the bottom floor, there is something you should see." Major Larn's voice said and Tyr started off as the rear guard of the Ranger escort passed him.

"Be right there Major." He replied, hurrying down the steps as quick as he could. From the looks of things, there were another two floors under the ground floor of the building, though his Rangers had wasted no time in securing them, the doors leading into those levels broken open, only silence to be heard. When the coyote officer reached the bottom floor, he saw a pair of Rangers sitting back against the wall, corpsmen tending to their injuries, the first casualties of his unit that he had seen since entering the building. Passing through the door beside them, he found the gigantic black wolf waiting for him, his helmet tucked under one arm. "What is it?"

"Best to show you sir." The Major replied, his orange eyes thoughtful. When Tyr nodded, Larn led the way down a hallway lined with breached doors, the Rangers of Larn's group still mopping up, shots still sounding occasionally. "Its just up here, around the corner."

When the two officers came around the bend in the corridor, Tyr stopped short, finding himself looking through a pair of heavy doors that had been blown out of their housings by breaching charges. A few feet beyond where the doors had come to rest down the passageway, the short corridor opened up into an area that looked as though it had been hastily set up as a sort of strong point, a pair of broken heavy machine guns set up behind thick metal tables and other reasonably solid materials as a barricade. But neither the guns, nor the cover had looked to have done the Black Claws much good. Many black clad bodies were sprawled throughout the area, almost carpeting the room with corpses, many of them unarmored. But far more interesting to Tyr was what lay behind the improvised cover. Set into the wall across the room from him were a set of blast doors that wouldn't have looked out of place at a munitions storeroom on a battle station. Such places had doors so heavily reinforced that they could withstand the explosion of the stored supplies, naturally intended to keep the rest of the station intact should anything catastrophic happen. Needless to say, every explosive the Rangers carried put together wouldn't have dented the doors much.

"What the hell is this?" Tyr asked no one in particular, noticing that one of his combat engineers was shoulder deep in the wiring of a wall panel, the backpack she wore clearly that of a computer systems specialist.

"That's exactly what I said." Larn commented, nodding to the young command sergeant who was in charge of the rangers who had taken the room. "Any progress specialist?"

"Some." The female engineer replied, hauling a large bundle of multicolored wires out of the hatch. "From what my scanner has been able to pick up, there is a tremendous amount of power going into this room. And that, coupled with all the signal shielding in this panel, means it's a good bet there is a computer core in there." As the two officers watched, the engineer expertly separated a couple of wires and then spliced in leads connected to her backpack, lights dancing across her armor's visor as the systems connected. After a moment, she spoke again. "Hmmm...that's odd. It looks like the room received a purge command, but there is no sign that it was carried out."

"Some sort of system error?" Tyr inquired, intrigued. If the Black Claws were really more like pirates than mercenaries, as everyone expected, then a computer core like that could be a gold mine, especially if it was still intact.

"Maybe." The specialist replied, her fingers flicking as if she were tapping commands into a computer, the sensors in her gloves registering the contact on the virtual interface. "The operating system is a mess. That airstrike packed one hell of a wallop. The core is probably shock-mounted, but the rest of the system certainly wasn't."

"Can you get the doors open?" Larn asked, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

"Probably." The engineer stated, entering a rapid series of commands into her armor's interface. "Of course, it would have taken me a long time even with the system undamaged. As it is, it might take me a couple of hours to sort out a bypass."

"Well, get started then. Tap whoever you need to get it done." Tyr ordered and the engineer nodded, already focused on the task. "Larn, let's leave a platoon as a security element here. Form up the rest of the battalion outside. We have to secure the higher ups before they find another way out of here."

***

11-16-3015

Time Index; 0910 hours GST

MAMC Interceptor Redhawk One

Sython system, Merxian space

"Dropship command of the Turlion Rangers, this is Redhawk one." Katy said, guiding her interceptor in a fly-by past the cluster of orbiting dropships.

"Go ahead Redhawk, this is Esardis four-two." The dropship group's acting leader replied.

"Thunderstrike 5 went down in the spaceport, away from our friendlies." Katy continued, looking down at the crash site through the side window of her cockpit. "I can't tell from here if any of the crew survived. Can you assist?"

"I copy Redhawk," Came the dropship pilot's reply. "I will dispatch a wing pair for CSAR duty immediately."

"Acknowledged Esardis." Katy said, watching as one of her fighters swooped down on a vehicle trying to flee the complex, slagging its engine with a precision plasma shot. "Much appreciated. I will peel off a flight for cover."

Down below her, Katy could see the last of Tyr's Rangers swarming into the structure the bombers had just blasted, and she smiled. With her fighters flying top cover and destroying any vehicle trying to escape the facility, whoever had been dumb enough to order the attack on Tyr's unit wasn't going anywhere fast. Of course there was always the possibility that they would try and get out on foot, but with the complex built out on an open plain, it wasn't like they wouldn't be seen. In fact, once she was sure that the threat of anti-aircraft defenses had been neutralized, Katy was planning on deploying the drop ships to pick up anyone trying to go that way. But until then, she actually had very little to do. Circling over the crashed Split-tail, Katy watched as the two dropships escorted by a group of fighters flew down on the crash site, the crews clambering out to check the wreckage. A few minutes later, when the dropship crews were starting to haul the bomber crewman out of the ruined ship, her comm unit crackled once again, the message frequency flagged as belonging to the Yunius.

"General, this is Yunius control." the voice of the on-duty sensor officer started to say, sounding concerned. "We have a group of signals heading your way in-atmosphere. They are flagged as Merxian military, but..."

"But, we have to be sure." Katy finished for him, immediately breaking the lazy circle of her orbits, her squadron following suite immediately. "Distance and bearing?"

"Fifty clicks out from the northern perimeter." The officer reported, "Looks like thirty plus contacts."

"Good copy, Control." Katy said, turning in that direction. "Alright Redhawks, you heard him. We have possible hostiles incoming. Prepare for intercept, but hold your fire until we know what we are dealing with."

A chorus of affirmatives drowned out the roar of her fighter's engines for a moment as she increased her speed, instinctually stopping short of going full throttle. One problem with trying to use interceptors in the atmosphere of most planets was that, while they were perfectly capable of operating there, the powerful engines the craft sported could create enough air displacement at full thrust to damage the ship they were attached to, limiting their use for atmospheric operations. But, of course, that was not to say that they were useless. It only took the quick fighters a few seconds to cover the distance to the new contacts, and Katy slowed her ship to engagement speed the moment her targeting sensors tagged the contacts in her heads-up display. A moment later, a wireframe outline of the sensor contacts appeared in the corner of her display and she was surprised to find that it was a design that was as familiar to her as the Viper interceptor she had flown for years. The incoming targets were standard Merxian dropships, and as she got closer, her sensors added color to the display, showing that they were painted in the distinctive patterns of Marine squadrons. When she selected the lead ship in her sensor display, her fighter's comm. unit automatically queried it, selecting its comm. frequency when the systems connected.

"Unidentified dropships, this is General Katy Jes'ic of the Merxian Alliance Marine Corps. Identify yourselves." She commanded, making a quick count of the contacts in her display. There were almost forty, flying in tight formation, enough for an entire regular infantry battalion, and what was more, a dozen of them had Turgoun assault vehicles slung under their fuselages, the light tanks painted in similar colors.

"General Jes'ic, this is Lieutenant Colonel Per'alt of 1st battalion, 389thinfantry regiment." A voice replied. "Can we be of assistance?"

"Say again Colonel?" Katy asked, taken aback. Since she had arrived in system, she had been so focused on dealing with the threat of the Black Claw ships and ensuring that Tyr's Rangers survived that she hadn't even considered contacting the planetary garrison. After all, even if they had made contact with the Merxian forces on planet, it would take them far too long to mobilize in support of the Rangers; the battle would be over before they could deploy.

"My battalion happened to be on maneuvers up north when we picked up the comm traffic of the orbital battle." The Infantry commander's voice explained. "When our sensors picked up the dropships making land fall, we mounted up for support. The other battalions of the 389th, as well as the 340th are scrambling now. They should be on their way in an hour."

"Colonel, I'm going to owe you a drink when this is over." Katy laughed, grinning broadly beneath her helmet. "Head for the spaceport at Tare Pharmaceuticals. The Turlion Rangers will sure be glad to see you."