A bloodied hand shot up out of the murky water and Commander Boren Prax pulled himself onto the slowing sinking fuselage debris as he gasped for air. The Juggernaut had just been shot out of the sky. He had just been shot out the sky by his own people. Freego was dead. Marcus Orn was hopefully at the bottom of the bay.
He scanned the ridge line above. He saw movement. Looked like Prime Army soldiers heading down. He glanced at the shoreline. Movement there, too. These people were different.