@ShiningSector

Ducaelia had set the perfect trick. She had used her hack tool to screw with a radio on one of the patrols to mimic her frequency, then ran to the opposite end, hiding and waiting for one of the fools to shoot at it. When he did, she started her cloak and ran like hell. She was behind him, claws on, and ready to strike. Her cloak turned off and she carved and disabled a few functions of the power armor. The thug yelped in surprise, but he wasn't harmed, but he was less of a threat. He still had a large amount of armor, but his capabilities was halved. He turned and threw a punch at her, which she quickly dodged and laid suppressing fire on his flank. He quickly shot at her with his main weapon, causing her to temporarily retreat. She hid, and he came after her.
Separated from the others, they were one on one. "Ha! You shoot like a giant boogu!" The thug turned on his external comm. "You b****. Do you know how hard it is to fix this damn thing?" Ducaelia was watching him from above. "Can't be as hard as fixing my robotic body, you overkill-puswack! You got disarmed by a girl! How does that make you feel?" She turned on her cloak and climbed down quietly. She made a mistake though and he heard her. "There you are!" And he opened fire. Some shots hit her, turning off her cloak, while the rest didn't make impact. It was major damage, but luckily not in a critical area. One bullet was stalling one of her joints from moving, which only added to the issues.. He laughed, but when he saw her face, he stopped laughing. She was angry. Her lights were all on, and red. "YOU PATHETIC PISS ANT!" She quickly dislodged the bullet and turned on her claws. She lunged at him with a lot of speed and force.
This was when he realized, he f***ed up.
The screams could be heard from the main battle, probably turning a few heads.

All the sneaking about was a bit frustrating for Gerad, but he guessed that was the price one payed for working with such squishy compatriots. A Militia assault would have involved the unit forming into a box formation with their Barriers up, before advancing straight towards the strong point, engaging targets as necessary with VLAs and PRPs, and simply weather any incoming fire until they closed to point blank; as it was there was a decent chance that whomever was manning the defences might be able to bring Gerad down if he tried that on his own.

The news that the targets had powered armour suits and at least one piece of heavy armour, did get his attention. Depending on the suits, the right type, or enough of them, could potentially bring him down, and the type of crew served weapons generally found on all up armoured vehicles was nothing to dismiss; Militia power amour may be tough, but it had its limits.

As everyone moved in, Gerad shared Cyne’s concern about the missing tank; a treat like that was not something anyone wanted to be surprised by. That said, he, Silas and Sven found they had more pressing issues as three suits moved to engage them. ”Oi, Boss Man!” Gerad called out with a laugh. ”C’n ye make sure Sven be shootin’ a’ th’ right skags in stomper suits!” One of his first missions, Sven had clipped him with a burst of weapons fire, and while it’d done no harm, he was damned if he was going to let that clanker forget it.

-

He growled in frustration as one of them came charging at him, dodging and weaving just fast enough to throw off his aim; he was sorely tempted to just fry the skag with his PRP, but he needed to save the shots for the tank, if it had a decent point defence system, to could be a very tough rokka to peel.

As the suit skittered in close, he spotted the snout of a plasma lance and tripped both his Barrier and shields just as it opened up on him. Tucking in tight while the superheated plasma glassed everything around him, thermal alerts squealed as the shields took the brunt of the abuse; that said, they were more meant for quick and sharp kinetic strikes so after a few moments they began to fail and the armour itself began to heat up. Fortunately however the plasma lance lacked endurance prompting the suit to pop VIRS smoke and withdraw, tossing a trio of missiles into the mix.

Unfortunately for Gerad, the smoke hid the missiles almost up until impact, more damage alerts nagging him as they slammed into his Barrier; it held but that wasn’t something he wanted to test again. Activating his PRP, he disconnected the projector itself and extended just the armature, bringing it in front of himself. He’d made a few custom changed to his systems over the years and this was one of them; his VLA was already in his right main hand, and with a few quick movements from his secondary hands, he’d removed the manual controls for the VLA and stored them in his armour before mounting the weapon on the armature. Booting up some associated software, his VLA was now a miniature point defence laser that could react far faster than he could.

Drawing his hammer, he heard the approach of the suit that was engaging him as the smoke began to dissipate. Another trio of missiles screamed out of the thinning smoke, only to be met with Gerad’s PDL, which intercepted them easily to the anger of the pilot. As the enemy suit charged in, Gerad remained stationary behind his Barrier, only rotating in place to keep his opponent to his front. As the last second the suit juked to one side for another plasma lance pass, and Gerad made his move.

Because Garundins had a reputation in fights for just meeting opponents head on and pushing through on sheer durability and stubbornness, many folks tended to forget they were a high grav species in some of the most advanced suits of power armour available; they eschewed things like jump jets and the like not because they couldn’t use them properly or that they were too heavy as a species to make them worthwhile…such things just weren’t part of the Garundin mindset. In reality a fully armoured Militia trooper could move incredibly fast when and if needed.

In a flash his Barrier came down and he lashed out with his hammer, throwing it at the legs of the attacking suit while simultaneously charging after it. The hammer hit with a resounding crash and served to stagger his target long enough for Gerad to close the distance. Hitting the enemy with a full bore tackle, he drove the enemy suit off balance even further, and despite his smaller stature, he dragged it to the ground.

While the enemy trooper tried to regain their balance, Gerad’s combi-cutters lashed out. Arcing around behind his opponent, he used the cutter to carve ruinous damage into the armour, rendering its thrusters non-functional, before doing the same thing to the on-board weapons. At full power a Militia cutter could cut through the armour of a tank in few minutes; in this instance the damage was catastrophic. While the cutter worked, Gerad was doing his best to maintain control of the fight as his larger opponent attempted to batter and crush him; returning the favour, he’d wrapped his main arms around the lower torso of the other suit and exerted as much force as he could.

The two armoured figures grappled with one another, while the cutter burned and hacked at the outer plating. It was a fight that had the potential to go on for a while, until suddenly it didn’t. In the cutters attacks it’d managed to damage a main power conduit, triggering a surge and causing automatic failsafes to cut power. All of a sudden Gerad’ opponent stopped moving; extracting himself from his opponents embrace, he grunted in satisfaction with what he’d doing. The armour was beyond all but the best Armour’s skills to repair and with the damage so severe, it would take that sort of skill just to get the pilot out.

Setting his systems to auto-repair, Gerad retrieved his hammer, swapped his ranged weapons back to their normal states, and left his opponent to whatever fate awaited him.

Almost on instinct, Cyne recoiled and threw himself backwards and just in time too. The platform he had taken his shot from became mulch within seconds and a flurry of slugs tore through. Had he been any more indecisive, he surely would have been cut into red and meaty ribbons. By now though, the armored suits found new targets and engaged. Cyne on the other hand, seemingly a forgotten memory for the mechanized squad, took the opportunity and separated himself from the new conflict, ideally to look for a better position. Although, there was still the matter for the unaccounted for tank...

---

Silas saw what happened to the tower Cyne had occupied just moments before it was completely obliterated. Concerned rushed through his thought but was the sense was quickly drowned and subdued when a mechanized suit shifted aim directly towards him. Now, all the worry was for himself.

The battle armor struck out with streams of plasma and a volley of automatic fire. Augmented by his Shade's Skin, Silas was able to weave through the incoming fire with relative ease. Having been made for those Vandrell whom didn't shed their inferior flesh for an eternal shell, the Shade's Skin gifted the wearer, or more accurately the 'host', enhanced reflexes, strength, and durability via a hybrid plating mesh. The host in question was able to move about and make use of the Skin's capabilities through a neuro-link, presenting a far more communicative control scheme for the Skin's wearer.

Upon observing Silas seemingly 'dance' through their weapons fire, the power armor pilot scrambled to keep distance between they and their silver-scaled opponent. Silas however responded in kind and fired the Shade's Skin's jump jets. Silas closed the distance and was already on top of the suit. The pilot, probably uncomfortable with their enemy getting so unexpectedly close, essentially flailed their heavy limbs in an attempt to bat Silas away. Catching the suit's heavy fist, Silas pulled the closer and threw a right hook into the 'head' of the suit. The armored form, unbalanced by the surprisingly powerful blow, took several uncontrolled steps back before regaining composure. However by that point, it was already to late for them.

Silas closed in and jumped right over the suit and crouched behind it before swerving his left arm into it's side. With a loud shrieking clap, signaling the kind of sound a metallic object would make if it pierced though something of equivalent substance, the suit's form quivered for a movement and then stopped moving. Silas yanked his augmented arm free of the suit's armor, revealing a blood coated blade protruding from his gauntlet. After what sounded like a pained moan echoing from the suit, the armored form slanted sidewise due to lack of control and collapsed.

---

"Hey! I heard that!" protested Sven, having caught Gerad sarcastic, though unfortunately valid, comment.

Despite all the times he was offered a module or a programming algorithm that could be installed and programmed into his Ascended framework to compensate for his terrible aim, Sven rejected all of them, much to the confusion of his teammates. Instead, he had insisted he'd take the more tradition approach. Which didn't seem to work out for him, also pointed out by the same teammates too.

Perhaps it was some organic pride that burned within him that rejected the notion of having an electro-mechanism help him. Maybe that was it. Or, perhaps it was some disconnect between the motions of operating a firearm and the visual sensors that fed the imaging back to his brain, faulting immersion and perception, prompting unintentional bad aim even when he was doing it all right. Maybe. Too complex though and required hours of calibrating. Adapting to his body after getting stuck in it was ludicrously difficult to adapt to in the first place.

Whatever the circumstances were, what he did know though, was that he could at least hit something up close. Managing to get ahead of the battle suit before him, Sven peppered the enemy battle armor with plasma fire. The glowing splashed against the armor although failing to penetrate. Still, the condensed fire was still enough to heat the affected to surfaces and begun the process of melting the impacted areas. The pilot didn't take kindly to this and returned fire. Sven jumped forward and hit the ground, narrowly evading any direct hits although suffering some of the more glancing of them. Again, he pulled the trigger of his plasma fire, this time actually succeeding ins scoring a crippling hit to the suit's joint in its right leg. The pilot stumbled along with the suit but regardless, it kept firing in defiance.

Seeing as though the wasn't making enough progress, Sven rolled to his side to avoid the barrage and came into a charge after getting back to his feet. Admittedly, the battle suit wasn't all that much bigger compared to him and the shoulder charge he threw into the power armor suit was enough to put it on it's back. The pilot clearly didn't expect this and tried to get back up. Sven maintained his advantage and jumped on to the suit and began blasting it, keeping the trigger squeezed. Under the pressure of unrelenting plasma fire, the chest portion of the suit began glowing until it was as bright as a star with the pilot inside desperately trying to put a weapon on Sven but finding out, in horror, that Sven was well too close for their reach. Eventually, the check exploded as if it were a firework mortar, sending showers of sparks in all directions. Sven final eased off the trigger and just in the nick of time too, especially after finding out his rifle had nearly overloaded the coolant systems, thus causing his weapon to also glow. The pilot though, well, there wasn't much left them presumably. After the armor was compromised, the insides quickly caught on fire but no agonizing screams came out. It was likely the explosive chain reaction had killed the pilot instantly.

---

The battle only took minutes to conclude. The result, all four of the power armor troopers were motionless, having been killed or incapacitated. Suddenly, the entire complex was completely silent, devoid of any life other then Silas and his crew.

"Well," Silas began, "that got dicey. Everyone okay?"

"I'm fine," replied Sven, "took some hits but I'll live."

After confirming with Ducaelia and Gerad, Silas then tried to bring Cyne back into the fold via the comms. Cyne however didn't reply. Frowning, Silas called his name out once more with no response. Worry once more settling in, Silas, still with his Skin active, jumped to the platform Cyne was one, or what was left of it for that matter. He scanned the demolished platform, noting the utter beating it took. What caught his attention was the lack of blood that the was dreading to come across. It then came to him and he sighed in relief. Cyne made it out. While what was good, it still didn't account for why his teammate wasn't replying.

He got his answer soon enough and right on cue.

"Um, boss...?"

Silas found Cyne's hesitant tone rather unusual. That usually wasn't a good sign, "yeah, what's up?"

Before he could get Cyne's reply, something else butted into the conversation. And it was loud and violent. The large and closed shutter door that was practically the only entrance Silas could make out when he viewed the facility, seemingly vanished, probably vaporized as a roaring wave of pure plasma fire erupted from the entrance. At the same time, or perhaps a split second before the fiery scene ensued, a glowing horizontal tear-shaped projectile screamed though the shutter and detonated meters away, leaving nothing in its wake but a six meter large smoldering crater. If no one was caught in the blast, the pressure wave that was generated would've had enough force to slam anyone to the ground.

Emerging from the now gaping hole of an entrance, now vomiting fire and smoke, was a massive mechanized platform levitating several feet off the ground. The machine, basking in the red hue of the flames behind it, must have been three meters in lengths is one were to observe it from the side and one and a half meter wide. Four large screaming thrusters, which kept the tank 'flying' were located to both its bow and stern and surrounded by spaced armor. Below the war machine and atop it were rows of positioned auto guns and countermeasure hard points; likely housing point-defense systems and shield generators. The guns themselves emitted red vectors that moved and scanned the battlefield, illuminated thanks in part with the fumes that now encompassed the area. The more prominent feature was the main turret. Shaped like a thick disk, the front half of the turret mounted additional spaced armor between it, the main gun. From what Silas could determine, it had to be a 160mm plasma cannon; not good. Along the sides of the turret were pylons that mounted several elevated missile launcher bays. All in all, what they were facing now was one of the most dreaded arsenals the SSA ever deployed into land engagements, an MTA-507. A Chimera.

"I found the tank," Cyne finally replied.

"...thanks," Silas grunted before turning tail, "Everyone, find cover! Now!"

Almost immediately, the Chimera opened up with its auto guns. The gun began tracking their individual targets, typically two to three guns were matched for each member of Silas's crew, save for Cyne as he was still not physically accounted for. Silas jumped head first behind one of the destroyed concrete walls just at a lead hailstorm flew overhead. Sven managed to also remove himself from view by assuming cover, but not before returning fire against the Chimera. While the shots were probably going to do little good, the plasma rounds nevertheless failed to reach their intended target. Instead, each of the super-hot bolts harmlessly dissipated against some kind of ghostly surface.

"That thing's defense shields are up!" Sven called after quickly ducking behind cover to avoid the return fire from taking his head off.

"Shit..." Silas growled now feeling the pressure from the Chimera's suppressing fire, "that tank has four shield emitters that can intercept incoming fire with ease. Strong enough to stop any heavy munitions as well."

Silas attempted to take a peak at the Chimera but was immediately sent back into cover as another hail of fire was thrown at him, "I have an idea of scrapping this hulk but you 'all are not going to like it...any suggestion before I give my piece?"

Gerad let out a pungent sting of profanity in his native tongue as the erstwhile tank made it's presence known. Scrambling for cover, he joined Cyne in snapping off a few shots with his PRP; though despite it being a much heavier weapon than Cyne's it had almost as little effect.

He fired three plasma bolts in rapid succession, the first two actually managed to collapse the shields of the tank...but unfortunately the cycle time on the shield was fast enough that the first one was back up in time to intercept Gerad's third bolt.

”Bossman, any idea be better th'n lettin' tha' hefty boi slag us!” He called out. Peeking around his cover he snapped a shot with his upgraded VLA; the tank's shields couldn't wholly stop the beam of coherent light, but they twisted it all to ruin, meaning what got through did little more than cosmetic damage.

Ducaelia was back against the wall as if bracing for dear life. She turned to Sven. "You F***ing think? No s*** sherlock." She looked at Silas and Gerad when they discussed taking it down. She saw Gerad take a pot-shot and laughed. "You thought that was a good idea? That thing's natural armor is to thick." She thought about her days as security. She had fought a tank then, and she quickly learned it was common for thanks to have weaker rear armor, since it was normally close to the engine and fuel tank. She looked at Silas. "I have an idea, but it's risky. You wanna try yours first?" She ducked as a piece of rubble flew over her.

Silas cursed as the Chimer's unending fire poured into his position. Almost curled up, he tightly pressed himself against the concrete wall that separated him from the mechanical terror on the other side. The same wall that was steadily disintegrating as it was chewed apart by the hailing death spray. Gerad was right, anything plan was better than nothing; if they didn't do something soon, they too would become shredded or vaporized.

Looking around, Silas attempted to spot Cyne but, or course, he was no where to be found, "Cyne! Where are you?"

"Top floor, inside the...make-shift hanger that Chimera came from. Plenty of ordinance back here I could use against th-"

"Then why aren't you using..." Silas tried to keep his cool. He knew Cyne would've thought about that as well. The Chimera unfortunately still had guns that weren't in use that could be quickly directed to any new threats that made themselves know. Cyne's only advantage he had was that the tank's sensors had yet to pick him up yet. Wait, the sensors, "actually question for you..."

"Uh, you're serious right now...?"

"Yes I am! Look at the damn tank! Can you see what kind of sensory setup does that thing have?"

Cyne didn't immediately respond. It was probable that he was doing as was asked. He replied at last less than a half a minute later, "Looks like a standard Mk-II Lobe Hawker suite. I think we're fighting an A1 model."

"You sure?"

"Positive. The Mk-II optics are incased in box frames and mounted on swivel platforms..." Cyne paused briefly and then realized where Silas was getting at, "and are entirely visual focused."

"And can't discern between holographic and legit objects," Silas concluded. Which was partially why MTA-507-A1 versions of the Chimera were no longer built and instead were re-worked to the more sophisticated A2 variants; versions whose automated weapon systems were not as easily fooled by artificial translucent trickery, "think you can get Pathfinder to pull up some false blips?"

"Sure can but it won't full them for long though..."

"That's fine," Silas replied, "we just need to turn the tank around. Oh, and get your share of its attention, will ya?"

"...Roger," Cyne grunted.

Moments later, a trio of Cyne lookalikes suddenly appeared around the Chimera. The auto guns, now visually IDing the Cynes as hostiles, reprioritized their targets and open fired. Ensuring that the guns would remain stumped, Pathfinder adjusted the projections and the false-Cynes juked and dodged and weaved through the incoming fire. Had any of the shots managed to pass through any of the fakes, their ploy would've gone up in smoke fairly quickly. After what seemed like an eternity, the Chimera finally shifted its position and began rotating its hull now that three unknowns were now penetrating its defense fields. But it wasn't going to be enough. The holograms couldn't to anything but keep it distracted. Eventually, Cyne finally responded and contributed to the confusion and let loose an RPG he had scrounged together from the hanger. Unsurprisingly, The Chimera quickly picked up the new threat and summoned up another defense barrier.

"Sven!" Silas quickly called out, "Light up that tank - I don't care if it doesn't do shit - just fire!"

Sven didn't verbally reply and immediately popped out from his position and opened up with his plasma rifle. Like before, the shots dispersed but now Silas had joined him and fired upon the Chimera. Another RPG detonated on impact against the barrier and caused it to flicker. It was then that Silas noticed that his own, harmless munitions were no longer being intercepted by the barrier system and were ricocheting off the hull armor.

Silas quickly turned to Gerad and Ducaelia, seeing as the Chimera was, unintentionally, showing them it's flat starboard profile, bristled with the unattended countermeasure suites while its auto guns still fired upon on the dancing holograms, "Good a shot as any folks; let 'em have it!"

Ducealia activated both of her claws with a sadistic giggle. "With Pleasure!" And she jumped onto the tank's top and maneuvered to the optics. She got close, but then the turret hatch opened and the Gunner fired at her with an automatic rifle. She dodged what she could, but a few hit, causing major damage to her flank. She shot him with her right stinger, the shot going through his jugular.
She then realized she was in the perfect spot to throw a grenade in. "I'd appreciate a grenade bo- EET!" The turret spun suddenly, throwing Ducaelia of balance. She started falling off the side of the tank, and the turret spun more, knocking her around more. She activated her cloak before hitting the ground with a thump and she rolled to the underside of the tank.
Whoever was driving this tank was on her shit list.
With a Huff she grabbed on to the under carriage, which was no easy task with the amount of flat armor. She had to grab around one of the vents. She turned her cloak off and looked Silas dead in the eyes. "GERNADE! NOW!" she yelled in rage.

Silas called for them to give the tank all they had, and Gerad was more than happy of oblige; or at least he was, right up until Ducaelia lept onto the the blasted thing, right through his PRP firing arc. Fortunately the IFF system stopped the shot before a 10tw bolt of plasma turned the machine woman into so much slag. ”Gorydamn cliff jump'n clankie nutter!” He swore. ”Gonna get her fool ass skragged an' no even leave any good salvage!”

With Ducaelia now down and out of his line of fire, he let rip. Using off hand targeting, he poked the PRP and his VLA, set to 'beam', around what was left of his cover without exposing too much of his compact frame. Plasma bolts ripped through the air one after another, trying to generate at least a local shield failure; his goal with the PRP was to try and take the Chimera's main cannon out. He wasn't sure why the crew hadn't gone to manual with it, but he was glad they didn't...even in top form there was no way even vaunted Militia power armour could take a hit from a large vehicle-grade cannon.

While the suit's simple AI handled the PRP, Gerad focused the VLA on one of the tanks lift engines. The shields were still up and screwing his beam ass to the Void, but the localized damage was starting to build; however if the shields collapsed, he'd cripple the machine in short order.

The tank's automated defensive suite was becoming overwhelmed; too many targets to track and the shield generators were running into threat prioritization problems. The system did the best it could but it couldn't stop Ducealia was closing the distance and mounting the massive vehicle and managing to kill one of the defending gunners and exposing the tank's now open hatch in which the crew was not in a position to properly address. Their only reply though was managing to shake the nimble Vandrell off the roof the Chimera.

Gerad finally opened up on the Chimera but having just dealt with it's local boarder problem, the tank's crew, having spotted Gerad and enlightened to his heavy energy attacks, directed the tank's auto defense suite in a desperate bid to avoid suffering any further damage. For a brief moment, the barrier fields absorbed and nulled much of Gerad's overlaying firepower and the Chimera's large turret slowly rotated in an effort to bring its main gun to bare and to rid of its nuisance Garudin problem. Suddenly, a detonation erupted from the Chimera's exposed flank; the same flank that the crew had begrudgingly risked leaving wide open.

Cyne loaded another RPG round and fired again and once more the projectile hit's mark. The consecutive hits were enough to disable one of the shield generators and knock out a few of the auto guns. Faced with this aggravating fact, the Chimera spun one of barriers around, the same barrier that was holding of Gerad's attacks, and intercepted another RPG strike. But now with it's defensive ability now spread thin, the sole barrier that separated Gerad and the Chimera's hull finally began to flicker and steadily collapsed under pressure. The disruption allowed several plasma bolts to dig into the Chimera's armor-plating and periodically gave away to the VLA beam. Eventually, the continuous hits amounted to the destruction of one of the Chimera's four lift engines. While flames vomited out of the dying thruster, the tanks orientation began to lurch forward and risked capsizing the entire frame.

For a mere moment, Silas had figured that they had the Chimera right where they wanted it. That was however before the tank's crew, seemingly in defiance of their deteriorating situation, compensated for lost of one of the thrusters and opted to have the sole surviving lift engine on it's side of the vehicle go into overdrive as an attempt to counterbalance the Chimera's weight and continue the bring the main gun around. And they pulled it off. The tank stabilized and the maw of the Chimera's 160mm plasma cannon locked its vector with Gerad's profile and began to glow as the weapon system charged up.

Silas gritted his teeth as the situation became dire with one of his teammate now in the Chimera's destructive sights and as if on Ducealia's fury induced advisory in the form of shout, Silas leapt into action, "Now or never, Sven! Let's move!"

"Right-o!" Sven replied, having came to the same conclusion as he and Silas abandoned their positions and charged toward the Chimera.

With the auto guns either disabled or fixated on the fake holographic Cynes projected by Pathfinder, their mad dash was practically unopposed. Sven was the first one to reach the Chimera but instead of mounting it like Ducealia did, he instead threw all of his mass and weight into one of the still active lift engines. Just as the Chimera's main gun fired. But instead of slamming into Gerad and rightly incinerating the Garudin, the round veered off it's original course and exploded a few yards behind Gerad. While the violent detonation, given its proximity distance, would only singe Gerad's armor, the sheer pressure wave would've tossed him forward.

Silas on the other hand managed to close with the Chimera and with the assistance with his Shade's Skin, vaulted over tank and per Ducealia's 'suggestion' he dropped a pair of live incendiary grenades down the turret hatch, "Grenades, out!" he called out, though it was mainly directed at Ducealia whom was still pried to the tank.

Once everyone was clear away from the Chimera, two loud bangs, split-seconds apart, echoed out from the exposed hatch, followed by a flash of light that beamed out from the ports and hatches, just as a tower fire spewed out from the hatch. With in seconds, the Chimera finally fell silent and slowly veered into the ground like a tired and dying beast. With the defense suite no longer reacting to the combatants around it, the real Cyne finally materialized into view atop the vehicle and peered into the hatch as smoke and cooking fumes poured out from the inner chambers. Despite the black thickness of the smog, Cyne's visual sensors could still peer inside and seek out any survivors inside the Chimera.

Seconds later, Cyne looked up and gave a thumbs-up gesture, "We're good," he reported.

Silas expressed and sigh of relief before backing into a slab of concrete and resting against it, "Alright. Status report, everybody."

"OWWW!"

Ducaelia was stuck under a piece of tank, and her head was against a wall and holes next to her. She couldn't see much. "I should've jumped sooner..." She whined. She sighed then banged on the metal. "A little help over here would be appreciated boys!"

Gerad let out a triumphant hoot as the tank's defenses began to falter and his shots started to chew up the armour, that hoot became a holler as the lift engine began vomiting fire and the machine began to slew away. Burn ye skaggin' bastard, burn!

Unfortunately, the crew of the tank wasn't about to go down without a fight, and the pilot did their best to re-balance the lift, while the main gun was brought to bear against him. There was no time to do anything except run; but as he tried to, his feet shifted in the rubble and he staggered. Looking down the muzzle of the cannon he knew he was done. "Ancestors watch fer me, I'm comin' " He said softly, closing his eyes.

The next thing he knew, damage alerts from across the rear of his armour howled, his sheilds collapsed and he found himself face down in the dirt, closer to the Chimera. "Bloodydamn, how'd they miss?" It took him a few moments to regain his feet; Militia power armour had pretty good anti-shock systems, but even they had their limits. Once he was up again, he surveyed he damage and spied Sven and Silas by the tank and made a quick association. "I was all set to greet th' Ancestors there...thank y' both. Big heater like dat 've slagged m' proppe'."

He was alive, but his armour was in need of some work. The shields were coming back online, the corona from the tank cannon had overloaded them, but caused no emitter damage. His physical armour w=however was a little worse for the wear; between the power armour skirmish and the tank fight it was down to 60% overall, though some places were a tad more compromised than others. The self-repair nanites were already on the job, but that was going to take time.

He was still taking stock, when he heard Ducealia's call for assistance. "Oi Clankie, need a 'and?" While still giving her a deadpan look through his battered faceplate, he began to clap with his secondary arms, while lifting with his primary ones.

Ducaelia quickly scampered out from underneath. She dusted herself off, then ran a quick diagnostic check. When everything seemed to be in working order, she let our a sigh. She then looked at Gerad with a coy smile. "Thank you monkey boy~. Another minute and I would blow a fuse. Literally and figuratively." She looked at Silas with a more serious look. "I think it's high time we got a move on. We've spent too much time here already." She walked towards their objective, then spun in her heel and looked at the team oddly. She bowed slightly with her hands gesturing them forwards. "Ladies first~."

Silas allowed everyone a moment's breather Their encounter with the Chimera was an unexpectedly intense trial and had nearly cost them a few of their number. However, through ingenuity and teamwork, they were able to overcome such a lethal threat that would've had no problem of wasting a squad of regulars. Silas however still eyed the silenced vehicle. Despite the damage it took, the Chimera was relatively still intact. The hull was certainly compromised and one of the thrusters was essentially out of commission. Further more, the internal control compartments, while likely to have been cooked and suffered quite a bit of fire damage. Nevertheless, the 'wreck' was, surprisingly still serviceable; if one were to try their best to discount the stench of seared flesh.

That lead to another thought. The Chimera's crew. The same crew that fought unusually hard unlike the thugs they've been dealing with for sometime. It was very probable that - and the same could be said as well with the combat power armor units from before - they were apart of Deval's PMC forces, loaned to Gorcht to accommodate his own forces and as assurance that the power generation facility remained under the Horsemen's control. Or specifically, Lasminee's control. That was going to end soon.

With Ducaelia prompting for their advance, Silas figured it was time to move, "Alright. Remember the plan folks. We're knocking out the main power supply that runs through Lasminee's control towers. We have an untold number of civilians enslaved by those same towers and our job will become excessively complicated if they are not dealt with - I don't want any crap from the resistance if we screw this up. So...Cyne here is going to-"

"Whoa, wait a minute. Why're you bringing me into this?" Cyne abruptly protested.

"Because you're the genius who opted for and backed this plan to begin with," replied Silas as he eyed the sniper, "and rather belligerent about it to, I may add. So as I was saying, you will be taking point and lead us to this plant's grid control network. We're cover you while you and Pathfinder-"

Pathfinder buzzed in protest as well. Sven couldn't help but snort in amusement.

"Good, God! You too? Whatever. You're helping. And I want both of you starving those towers out of commission. Once that starts, I'll inform the resistance and after that, it's their problem about the freed civvies. We clear?"

Cyne was about to respond but couldn't get a word in before Silas cut him off. Probably got annoyed of being interrupted, "Good talk. You heard Ducaelia; ladies first."

---

As ordered Cyne, begrudgingly, lead the group into the power plant. Unsurprisingly, they met no resistance once they passed though the lobby area. The lobby itself was poorly treated during Gorcht's crude and clumsy takeover of the entire facility. Being more of a utility site, the lobby certainly wouldn't have been glamorous although albeit not spartan either. Simply nice looking and functional, ideally with the arrangement of furniture for idling guests with a few tables hosting all the latest local magazines and a colored tarp crafted into the floor which lead to the security and receptionist desks. That's what the space would've looked like had the furniture not been ransacked, the tables flipped, and the desks set ablaze. But by far the worst offence with the muddy tarnishing of a great and inviting looking tarp. The barbarity was astounding.

Their advance further into the facility was essentially uneventful. The further fact of there being a distinct lack of any hostiles was unusual. Granted, the facility wasn't all that big and was perhaps a rough average fifty or so meters in ground length. Ironically, it was the generators outside that dwarfed building. Before long, they arrived to the deck that governed power distribution throughout the entire city. The large room was arrayed with mechanical obelisks in rows of four and flanked the main walkway on both sides. Mass of cords and wires covered the black rectangular nodes like vines, covering the many lights that flickered in constant patterns. As they travelled down the path, electronic chirps and beeps echoed around as they passed each row of the tangled structures. Soon, the arrived at the end of the room where a large screen positioned on the back wall showed the map of the entire city and the grid it encompassed. Below it were many consoles that controlled where power was routed to; whether it be a section of the city or to a certain structure. There must have been thousands to sort though.

"This looks like the place," Cyne commented.

"Dunno what else it could be," replied Silas, "I'll get in touch with the resistance ahead of time and let them know what we're doing."

"Right. C'mon Pathfinder," the drone chirped and acknowledgement and followed him to the nearest console.

It didn't take them long to figure how the control towers were networked. Apparently, each tower that was installed was positioned in close proximity to a native power line and leached off it. That figured, since it would have taken more time and resources to build a whole power grid. Additionally, since the Horsemen typically didn't stay in one spot for long, there was little need to go through the hassle in trying to perfect a system that was already working the way it should be.

"Shouldn't take too much longer," Cyne reported as he tapped away at the nearest console. Funnily enough, he didn't really know what he was doing; only following Pathfinder's instructions as was displayed on his HUD, "we isolated the scheme for regulating power to the towers. All we have to do now it getting though the override and...huh."

"What's 'huh'?" Silas queried suspiciously.

"A new command was just put into the power sequence. Remotely... directly to this room."

Before he could say more, the overhead lights suddenly died and bathed the entire deck in darkness, save for the small lights that still flickered from the wired obelisks.

"Ah, hell. I know where this is going. Night vision if you got them, folks." Silas declared as he assumed his Shade's Skin once more.

Silas scanned the room cautiously as he tried to spy any intruders that might be trying to advance under the cover of pitch black. His assault carbine raised and a laser dot to guide his aim, he slowly shifted his position behind one of the consoles. Sven followed suit as well. Their eyes were mainly trained on the open door way they came in from though only briefly, did looks around for any movement. Oddly enough, there was no movement they could race.

"How're we doin', Cyne?"

"Still working on it. Pathfinder is still trying to localize the source. From what we could tell, its close by." Cyne replied as he assumed a defensive position.

"How close are we talking?'

"...right on top of us."

Sven was the first to notice something was amiss as his visual sensors, now set for night vision, picked up what appeared to be a distortion moving about behind one of the wired devices. At first, he though he was seeing things. But soon enough, more circumstances of the distortion began appearing and moving between the flickering pillars. And they were getting closer. Fast.

Sven arrived to the conclusion they were not alone, "Cloaked contacts! Twelve 'o clock!"

Just one cue several masked and capped interlopers materialized from thin air and began opening fire on the group. Intense automatic weapons fire harried their positions, Forcing Silas and Sven, and everyone else to take evasive action, "not this shit again." Silas growled as he ducked behind one of the consoles.

@Athol
Several of the unknown figures vectored in on Gerad. Three kept their distance and applied covering fire while two other attackers, drawing what appeared to be high-frequency blades, closed the distance with their Garudin prey. The intruders moved with inhuman speed and instincts, as if they kept a careful eye on Gerad's armament and fluidly moved out of the line of fire if the sights were about to set on them

@Dealdric
A squad of five assailants zeroed in on Ducaelia with HF blades drawn with the odd member of the group wielding some kind of energy halberd. Ducaelia's attackers seemed to jink and sway awkwardly but still covered ground rapidly. Multiple glowing red eyes emanating from the assailants danced through the darkness with murderous intent just before striking out at her.

She dodged the first wave of strikes then got a slight distance away. Ducaelia's eyes glowed red. She turned on her claws and laughed something bone chilling. She looked at the eyes sadistically. "Oh~. It looks like you boys want to play my game~. So now you see me..." And she disappeared, not a trace left. The assassin's were confused. They looked for distortion, but Ducaelia simply laughed, knowing they wouldn't find it. "AHHH!" One of the red lights turned off. Then another, with a gurgle noise and the ground becoming red.
Ducaelia got behind a pillar, blocking their sight of her when her cloak turned off. She got out her hack tool and wrielessly connected to their cloaks. She laughed manically, then stopped. "Hey boys~? What do you call and assassin's with no hiding spots~?" The red lights shook confused, looking for the source of the voice. She smiled. "Cattle." And she pressed the last button, short-circuiting the cloaks for all of the assassins that went for her.
The roguish thugs were startled by their cloaks malfunctioning, while they scrambled to organize, Ducaelia revealed herself, her stingers aimed at them. She whistled and they all turned. "Hello boys~!" And she let off a barrage of ionized shots, slaughtering them like...well cattle.
When the last three where on the ground she went over to check there vitals. One was alive, the squad commander. He looked at her and rasped. She hunched down and took his helmet off. His face was full of fear, and it made her grin. She blooped his nose before chuckling. "Never play my game buddy~. It never goes over well~." He spat his blood at her, it hitting her face plate. "Go to hell...you fucking monster..." Before he bled out. She was angry. He spat at her. She grabbed the lifeless corpse by the shoulders and hook it violently. "DON"T DIE YET YOU ASSHOLE! I'M NOT DONE HURTING YOU!" She dropped it and slashed at it relentlessly, Gore flying everywhere.

As they regrouped from fighting the tank, he took a moment to set his nanites loose to scavenge as much raw material as possible; they were going to be working hard to patch up his damage, and that meant burning through resources.

Much like Silas, he came to the conclusion that the tank and the power armored troops were loaners from one of the other Horsemen; but that also concerned him. Gear like that would have a pretty good comm net at least tying them into their parent units...so where was the back up? They hadn't exactly been subtle, and power armoured troops and anti-grav tanks could move very fast to cover terrain.

As they advanced on the power station, Gerad was on high alert expecting an ambush or out-right attack at any moment, but it never came. As they pushed inside, he packed the PRP away and dropped back to a rear guard position as they moved on. ”Don' like dis...” He muttered. ”Dey haf t' know we 'ere afte' th' rukus we raised, an' dis place th' mos' plain target, so were th'y be?”

As Cyne and his drone tried to get into the stations systems, Gerad planted himself along the way they'd entered and methodically swept the place, his VLA at the ready. Cyne was talking to Silas when the lights cut out; Gerad hadn't been listening, but the power cut could only mean one thing. ”AMBUSH!” His helmet swapped to night vision automatically as he began to search for hostiles, when Silas called them out.

With basic light gathering optics, the attackers presented merely as a slight optical illusion. ”Skaggin' ghost gear...” Quickly he cycled through his other imagine settings. Thermal as no better, their gear was well insolated; on accident he swapped to a diagnostic mode for tracking shorts in power systems, and they lit up as these mass distortions which only grew more as two activated HF blades.

Trading VLA for Hammer, he ignored the three shooters and closed with the other two. They seemed surprised that he could locate them, and both hesitated for a fraction of a second which gave Gerad the opening he wanted. With his battered shield up he slammed into the first one, their HF sinking deep into it and getting stuck as Gerad launched the attacker with a shoulder charge, sending them flying on one the obelisks with a meaty thud.

The other one had broken wide at the last moment and was trying to get around his side, but must have forgotten that melee was a Garundin specialty. He'd deliberately let it look like he'd left himself open, so when Number Two move to exploit the 'opening', they ran into his swinging Hammer. A half-second flip of his wrist meant instead of hitting them with the flat hammer face, Gerad struck them full force in the chest with the the spike end, punching the spike into their chest cavity before launching them back into the shooters, toppling one of them.

Shield still up, and HF blade still embedded in it, Gerad swapped back to the VLA, taking cover behind he shield. It was still set to the full power 'Beam' from the earlier tank fight, so he simply pulled the trigger and dragged the beam across the shooter he'd knocked over, cutting them and the punctured attack in half in one motion.

The other two had scrambled for cover, but he guessed they were miss/uninformed about Garundin tech and thought they were dealing with a human-like infantry grade laser weapon; one of them popped an aerosol grenade which are generally fairly effective at neutralizing such weapons, but the VLA had enough power output to just force it's way though. Sure it lose some effectiveness, but it retained enough to burn through the console one of them was hiding behind, as well as their armour and flesh behind it. Boring a thumb sized hole through their head, they hit the ground. The last shooter, seeing their team wiped and Ducaelia rending the other one, tried to make a break for the door.

Though his target was still a fairly amorphous blob on visuals, Gerad swept the beam low, taking the running off at the knees. With their cloak now disrupted, Gerad stood from his firing position and approached, weapon still leveled at the survivor. ”Hole up, we got quessions fer ya.” Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ducaelia still shredding the dead man. Tha' clankie gotta short circuit or two, mayb' need t' take sum Fungi precautions wit' 'er.

Silas didn't like surprises; and this one he certainly did not appreciate. Seven of the new specters engaged with automatic weapons fire blazing away at his and Sven's positions. A mass flurry of projectiles violently prances about against their deteriorating cover. It was evident that the consoles they hid behind were not well suited to play as a wall as each bullet strike carved away at the fragile machine. Silas tried to nudge out, attempting to attain a visual on his assailants but several hits skimming off of his Shade's Skin forced him back down. He growled in irritation of his predicament.

Luckily, the trial didn't last when Sven, while not attempting the same feat, raised his plasma rifle from out of cover and blindly returned fire. The assassin, not wanting to chance a direct hit, even from one plasma bolt, broke off and fell back being the array of processing obelisks. One of them however was not so lucky. Being only a second short from diving to safety, their head practically exploded into a spray of red, courtesy of Cyne's returning fire. Another one whom tried to return fire to keep Sven and Silas at bay also suffered the same fate. Their lifeless body tumbling back with a splatter of blood painting a processing tower behind them.

With five to go, not counting the ones Ducaelia and Gerad were currently dealing with, Sven and Silas made their move. Sven throttled through the return fire and blazed away via roaring automatic plasma bolts forcing some of the attackers back into hiding. Being more nimbler than Sven, Silas zipped by and caught two of them by surprise. With his handy Death's Grasp pistol in his right and a plasma knife in his left, he threw himself at his red-eyed enemies. One tried to return fire but failed to set of a successful burst as the few shots, coming to shallow, ricocheted on Silas's adaptable armor. Silas in turn shot the man dead with two loud discharges as .50 caliber rounds flung his victim back. The other assassin was better prepared, having drew their high-frequency blade in anticipation of Silas's charge swung vertically and set the edge upon him. Silas reacted and brought his knife into an upside-down hold and intercepted the assassin's armor-carving sword. Had his knife been of any other substance, the HF blade would have teared right through and then into him. Thankfully it held though in the process, it stalemated him and the assailant into am enduring pushing match. Silas however wasn't about to play along and brought his pistol to bear and fired. His opponent unfortunately reflexively dodged the shot and then sidestepped into a parry, momentary throwing Silas off balance and vulnerable to attack. Taking the advantage of the opening, the assassin leapt forward to strike out, sword once again to raised. However, Silas was able to recover in time and managed to take aim with his pistol once more in fire. Though it was not a kill, the round was enough to literally blow the man's hand which gripped onto the HF blade clean of. The assassin screamed in pain but he was quickly silenced, being gunned down by Silas.

Sven had an easier time as he stormed the three remaining assassin desperately trying to distance themselves from the Ascended Vandrell. Two of them eventually succumbed to plasma fire hits and fell to the hard floor, dead, The remaining one managed to climb atop one of the obelisks and lunged at Sven, HF blade in hands. But the attack was miscalculated as Sven was able to reach out and grabbed the man out of the air before the assassin could bring their blade down. Pulling the assailant close, Sven kneed him and before bringing his foot and the assassin into the floor. With a mechanical cocking down clicking from his leg, the assassin's back exploded into blood and gore, having been the recipient of a buckshot slug from a loaded shotgun built-in to Sven's leg. The blooded heap simply fell away in two pulverized pieces.

Finally, the room at last became silent and the overhead lights finally returned. The exposed scene revealed a grisly coat of red having painted across the room in addition to the many capped corpses that now littered the floor. Cyne moved to one of the console to check back to one of his earlier procedures.

"...Looks like that command I mentioned before has-"

Cyne's report fell short as another Assassin materialized with a HF Blade also in their grasps. Before the assassin could swing downward, Cyne, whom has not even bothered to turn to face his attacker, quickly but casually pulled his pistol from its holster pulled the trigger as the barrel lined up with the assassin. Albeit dumfounded by the reply, the assailant fell backwards with a bleeding hole in their chest and lied dead on the floor.

"-been turned off. Appears one of us got the bad guy fiddling around with the lights," Cyne concluded.

"Seems so." Silas huffed as his Shade's Skin retracted before making his way over to the only surviving assassin whom was now under Gerad's weapon barrel. The man's legs has been nearly cleaved off he tried to bail out from the fight. Clearly he didn't make it far, "Hey, dumbass. Neat trick with the lights. Who sent you?"

The assassin didn't reply.

"Where's your boss?"

Nothing. The only thing that emanated from their mouth was pained but defiant grunt. Silas pondered how to approach their lip-tight friend when Cyne came into the argument, "he's one of Madlock's goons."

Silas turned to Cyne who had now only bothered to give any attention to his former attacker. Cyne rummaged through the assassin's equipment and pulled the HF blade from their dead fingers. He examined it intently, "What makes you think that? How do you know?" queried Silas.

"Think about it," Cyne replied as he gave a few practice swings with the sword, "these fellas are clearly unlike the armed oafs we dealt with before. They knew what they were doing. And if I remember right, Deval doesn't divulge in this kind of work. It isn't his style of warfare."

"What about Lasminee?"

"Doubt it. Her thugs would only be a tad smarter than Gorcht's, but not as skilled as these guys."

Silas picked up on what Cyne was going by, "so that only leave's Madlock then."

"Yep," Cyne then proceed to activate the blade's high-frequency emitter and swung the sword's edge into a deactivated console. The emitter's micro-vibrations separated molecular bonds that made up the console's material, allowing the blade to seemingly pass right through it like a hot knife through butter. The console then neatly split in to fined halves seconds later, "I like this sword."

Silas then turned his gaze back to assassin whose angry gaze remained fixated on him, "so you're with Madlock, huh?"

The assassin didn't give a verbal reply but their unamused groan was good enough as an answer to him. Silas turned his attention to Ducaelia, "Did'ya hear that? This fella here is with Madlock. Want to get to know him?"

@ShiningSector

Ducaelia barely heard Silas. She turned to the scene with lights blood red and claws blazing. Her face plate was covered in Gore and her legs splattered with blood. If she had a mouth she would have been smiling sadistically at the assassin. She seemed drunk, as if the anger affected her brain. She leaned back and giggled, before turning her cloak on. A second later, She pushed everybody else out of the way and turned her cloak off. She held the guy by the head and giggled again. She turned back on her index claws on her left hand and slowly cut through his mask, deep enough to where it would barely pierce the skin. He screamed in pain, and she laughed.
When she stopped she quickly took his helmet off completely and held him by the shoulder, piercing his shoulder with her thumb. Her lights turned a purple, and she sighed. "Look buddy, I'm in a bad mood. You tell them whatever they'd like and point me in the direction of your master and I'll let the pain go away. All of it. So, where's Death, so I can give him a smile on his boney face~.?"

The assassin shuttered as he looked into Ducaelia's death glare. Like with Silas before, he was reluctant to answer although Silas wasn't as direct as the femme Vandrell that lifted and held him within her stabbing clutches. Seeing his squad wasted was bad enough and now desperation settled in once more. He finally spoke.

"The Edwards C-cahlaway Museum. Last I-I heard, he was moving in there. That's all know..."

Silas whom was observing the interrogation, brought up a holographic map of the city and looked for the location of the museum the assassin just mentioned. As he was anticipating, though unsure at the time, the Edwards Cahlaway Museum was located further North. Closer to Deval's territory. Given their mission goals they'd been following, Madlock was still quite a ways out and positioned in fortified territory and therefore, it was still unsuitable to go after him with many of the Horsemen still at large. In addition, Cyne's prediction could come true and Madlock would come for them. He still wasn't all that cool with the idea but it nevertheless would make things straightforward.

Satisfied with the assassin's reply, he glanced back at Ducaelia, "good enough for me. We'll be leaving soon anyway. Do what you want with him."

After that, he turned to Cyne as he readied his comms device, "we good with the generators?"

"We finally got past the override and we now have full control over this station. Putting those control towers to sleep...now."

"Nice work. Now if you all don't mind, I'll be making a quick call and then we'll be on our way."

---

Having staved and effectively eliminating Lasminee's control towers, Silas and company made their way out of the complex. Upon exiting the station, Silas found that the once quite city around them had erupted with continuous gunfire and explosions. The resistance timed their attack the moment the towers had ceased transmitting, allowing them to capitalize on the confusion Lasminee's and Gorcht's forces were now experiencing as the slaves they previously held captive were now rebelling, unpunished by the nulled kill-collars they all wore. With Lasminee's key advantage robbed from her, it would now be a simpler task in cutting through her currently distracted forces. However, the culling of the control towers had brought more attention upon them.

While it was previously subtle at first, the sound of may motorized vehicles soon became all the more evident once the distant shooting became drowned out, "that doesn't sound good," Cyne commented as he readied his rifle.

Indeed it wasn't. Just outside the demolished walls of the complex, about thirty or so APCs and converted trucks roared into the scene with a rigged jeep leading armed convoy. Silas couldn't make out the occupants of the jeep but he did eye a large individual standing in the passenger side, one hand on the front windshield and the other holding a large firearm. The jeep eventually stopped and the man began shouting and waving the other vehicles forward. Silas frowned upon seeing the mechanized force storming their way to the complex. It was an assault, likely to comprise of infantry supported by heavier arms mounted on the approaching vehicles.

"They just won't cut us a break will they?" Silas openly groaned, not even trying to hide is annoyance with the Horsemen's persistence, "right defense positions, people! Sven and Ducaelia, you're with me. We'll setup a defensive perimeter so we can ambush our unwanted guests and put them into a cross fire. Cyne and Gerad, you'll provide overwatch. Cyne, kill any mounted gunners on those advancing trucks. Gerad, I want any APC you encounter out of commission. We have less than a minute until they're right on top of us!"

True to Silas' words, the first wave of vehicles and infantry stormed the entrance. The infantry in question were comprised of the same lowlifes as they had dealt with before but were better armed with proper body armor and weapons. Sven made out over twenty-six of them having dismounted. Along side the charging thugs, three APCs slowly moved up, providing the softer element with legitimate protection while the trucks advanced from the rear. Per Silas's instructions everyone was to hold fire until the first wave was fully exposed. Attacking earlier and the advancing thugs would've been able to entrench themselves and prompt a more drawn out fight. Once the first wave had made it behind the walls, Silas had ordered to everyone to open up.

While Ducaelia tried her claws at 'interrogation', Gerad made a mental note to speak to Silas about his concerns once they go off of this rock. Skag it, wish I knew more 'bout how th'm clanks worked...

While the other were busy with the questioning Gerad poked about, though the first order was pulling the HF blade from where it was still stuck in his Barrier. With a bit of a tug it came free, and he gave it a once over. Poorly sized for his main hands, it was none the less a decent little cutter, worth tinkering with back on the ship. Lifting a sheath from one of the dead, he attached to a foreleg to keep it out of the way before continuing with his investigation of their attackers gear; whomever was responsible for the equipment list knew what they were doing, as it was all top flight gear.

While the repair nanites did as much as they could, he released a different kind onto one of the less mangled casualties. Known as 'Dupers', their role was to infiltrate tech and map targeted tech as fast as possible, for those time where collecting samples just wasn't practical. Gerad was most interested in the cammo cloaks used as they seemed to be fairly effective, but he really didn't have space to bring one with him.

In the background, he heard the man break, and Cyne announed that he was into the system. "Back t' work I guess..."
--
"Wowche' boss!" 'Overwatch' was all well and good...assuming there was any high ground he could get his stumpy hide up onto; but since the building's designers hadn't made any such considerations, all he could do was wedge himself in a likely corner.

As the APCs came into view, he couldn't help but smile a bit. Like the tank it had a shield, but unlike the tank, there was only one emitter meaning an older and less effective design. When the order was given, Gerad opened fire first with his VLA at full power, sweeping it across all three machines. The shields did their best to refract and dissipate the laser, but in doing so they burn a lot of energy and suffered a significant drop in effectiveness, which of course Gerad was counting on. On the heels of his VLA came the PRP, heavy bolts of plasma slammed into the first APC, slagging the front end and forcing it to halt; a testament to its builders though, the crew inside survived, though they had to abandon it as the blast also disabled its weapons.

The second wasn't so lucky, as Gerad adjusted his shot and actually hit under the vehicle, causing the blast to be forced upwards and into the belly. The APC simply blew up, shrapnel shredding the dismounts using it as cover, debris scattering over a wide area.

The third one slammed to a halt as the driver probably panicked, but all that did was make the shot easier. The third one blew as spectacularly as the second, though the 'soldiers' scattered from it much faster. With it neutralized, Gerad put a fourth PRP shot into the first APC, just to be sure.

Ducaelia jumped into the middle of the thugs and started shooting them and cutting with no relent. A few shots hit her, but not enough to take her out. Eventually, she turned on her cloak and got out of the main lines of fire. She noticed Gerad downed all the APCs. She looked up from above cover and yelled as loud as her voice box would. "Thank you Monkey-boy!" And she immediately went back in, shooting her stingers to get a few taken down before doing as she did before.
Now she was in much better mood.

Ducaelia death toll: 11