In the flash of a pulse-blast, the extraction mission had gone south. To the nine agent crew of the stealth transport vessel, specifically modified to evade the targeting and tracking systems of any known hegemon, that shouldn't have been possible. The Gnosis Eater Sect had a reputation for dropping into the most dangerous of warzones. Ether-scanning, electro-interference vision, biosignature reading - their dropships had a reputation for being as ghostly as their fighters.

None of that mattered as cockpit was blown open and with it, the pilot's entire upper torso. All they had for warning was a few seconds of turbulence, a targeting bleep, and just as the cockpit door opened, they saw an angry conical flash headed their way. There was no time for the pilot to scream before the energy-ablative glass shattered, sending a storm of slicing fragments into the troop carrier bay and reducing the human pilot to half a stomach and a pair of legs attached to a charred stump.

You didn't just "nab" a Sect stealth transport like that. Not on an op like this. Not unless you had help.

The rest of the cockpit hadn't fared any better. Where once stood a cutting edge series of semi-biological and ether-receptive mechanisms capable of synchronizing with nearly any species now sparked and sputtered from the overload of deadly currents the energy blast had sent. A ghostly fog-like light hovered over the various switches, screens, and panels but it did not obscure one particular feature. A holograph emitted by the still intact projector display hovered just in front of the pilot's remains, a red floating rectangular outline encasing in plain english:



Air rushed into the rattling vessel, descending faster and faster far past its initial landing spot in one of Kerovnia's parking lots and into the depths of the woods. The first few trees crashed and snapped their tops against the hull but the powerful wooden forms soon grew thicker and more resistant, ripping through wings and vital components as sparks and flames began to erupt through the descending wreck.

And wreck it did, crashing through the layered foliage, streaming black smoke as it slammed into dirt and bumped over stones, rocking the entirety of the reinforced hull, slamming down with a grating groan of tortured metal before a final agonized end to its perilous, dead-end journey. It had been hard to tell what else had happened during the harrowing descent but over half of its mass had been torn off as it fell, leaving a withered husk partially crushed between a series of now heavily dented rocks and toppled trees.

A dull silence befell the woods, punctuated by a few instances of sparking electronics and weakened metal cracking off like melting icicles. Another sound soon fellowed.

A sharp crack off in the distance and the sound of wildlife scattering to the air and through the undergrowth. Another, a third, fourth, fifth, a whole volley, pinging off of burning metal and tearing into stone, adding gravelly dust to the fuming smoke emerging from the wreckage. Distant calls and cries could be heard now growing in volume as black outlines could be seen distantly through the woods, closing in on the wreckage. Too far to get a clear view through the ether-electrical interference emerging from the crashed vessel but the long shapes within their arms left few questions.

Off in the distance, a few clicks over to the southwest, Kerovnia could be seen with its paritally decapitated tower-structures and the the roofs of its larger buildings visible over the thick foliage. That was where they were initially headed. That was also where the largest concentrations of the hostiles seemed to be heading from. Around them, the thick foliage was far from friendly to invader or defender; it was perfect for getting lost in. The same however, applied to the enemy.

Electrical interference was playing with the coms, practically silencing the team, but a distant signal was pinging on their coms. A voice was trying to break through the heavy static and interference emitted from the smoking wreckage.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE!" It called out, the particulars of its voice reduced to a grating buzz as their unknown contact blared over the sound of distant potshots and blizzard background ambience. "THEY KNEW YOU WERE GOING TO LAND HERE, THERE IS NO TIME TO EXPLAIN. WE NEED TO LINK UP SOMEWHERE SECURE, CANNOT SEND LOCATION DATA DUE TO INTERF-"

Before it could continue, a series of loud whistles could be heard through the air but they did not radiate from around them but above.

Mortar fire; energy-based given how it was further blurring the coms. Based on the volume, likely landing near and soon.

“It’s just, Silver? No last name?”

The secretary craned her neck, turning her head to be more in line with the sign-in book on the edge of her desk. As if seeing it straight on would make more sense to her.

“Is there a problem?” Silver replied, his voice low.

The Cyborg hated this whole experience, entering a high security office building through the front doors with people not only weary of his presence but actually having to give them his real name? No, this situation couldn’t be more foreign to him.

Looking around Silver eyed off a few employees who had decided to stare before pulling up the collar of his jacket as high as it would go. The secretary fixed her bobbed hair, uncomfortably shifting in her chair as Silver’s gaze returned to her.

“No, no, of course not Mr… er um, Silver.”

Standing up, she came out from behind the desk making noticeable effort to avoid proper eye contact.

“Please follow me.”

The young human led Silver across the grand foyer of the building. As they walked he could hear the echoes from the water of the large fountain in the centre of the atrium bouncing off the high ceilings above, attempting to drown out the hushed conversation of those below. Small drones zipped by after workers, as holoprojections gave quite the light show around the fountain.

What was this? Having to sign my signature in such a primitive fashion like it was some Frontier backwater world? But then everything else is state of the art tech?

Silver shivered, feeling as if all eyes were falling upon him, even if they weren’t. He hated people being able to see him outside of his armour, he felt so naked and exposed. Although he did his best to hide his cybernetics from plain view, short of wearing a veil, there was only so much he could do.

The doors of the elevator opened with a ding.

“Ok, so it’s the 65th floor,” the secretary said, leaning in and pressing the button as Silver entered the lift.

“The door for the meeting room is literally opposite the elevator, just open it yourself as they’re expecting you.”

The Cyborg let the doors close without another word before retreating to the corner, beneath the camera and patiently waited. To his relief, there was no one on the 65th floor, no movement and no one to greet him. Just a door in front of him and a long dimly lit corridor to his left. There was no natural light here and no grandiose looking features or high amount of tech, it was quite a dramatic change from below.

Silver reached for the door, still unable to shake the odd sensation of entering a room through the front for an expected meeting.

The office itself was small, cramped even, it only held a desk with 3 chairs, two filing cabinets off to one side and a loud ticking clock. There was a small window that had been blacked out, with a single spotlight in the top corner of the room giving it all it’s light.

“An interrogation room?” Silver asked the two occupants inside.

One, a human, was lent up against the filing cabinet just out of proper view of the room's light.

“Something like that,” he said with a small chuckle.

The other occupant was a Gealtirocht. Hunched over his part of the table, the eel-like creature gestured towards the empty chair. In front of him sat a plain vanilla folder.

“Please sit Mr. Silver,” the Gealtirocht asked politely.

Silver followed as instructed, taking the folder up as he did so.

“Paper? Are you guys having funding issues?”

“Mr. Silver please, just read the contents, it’s the dossier for your first mission with us.”

“Yeah eyes down Hanger,” the human barked.

Ugh, humans. Silver rolled his eyes before opening the dossier.

Ok, extraction, science team, their data and any valuable tech, great nice easy first job… wait, “you and your team”?

Silver tossed the dossier back on the table.

“Team? No no, I don’t do team’s. I work alone, I’ve always worked alone. You give me the details, I carry out the job, that’s how it’s done.”

The human stood up, coming out from the shadows with Silver now noticing the man’s immense size.

“This isn’t some pampered vacation like the one you’ve been living for the past few decades Hanger. This is the GES, we have a way of doing things here and we are the owners of your contract, and therefore you.”

A pang of anger rang out from within Silver’s chest, without thought he could feel the ether begin to fill him, slipping from the physical plane.

The Gealtirocht took notice and held up his clawed hand in the direction of his colleague.

“Mr Silver, all my friend here means to say is that this is how we operate here in the GES. There aren’t many who run operations completely solo in our organisation and certainly not for their first op.”

Silver breathed, letting the anger go and leaning back in his seat.

“I’m not babysitting anyone.”

“And we’re not expecting you to Mr Silver. We are not amateurs and neither is anyone on your team. They are all experienced professionals whose strengths makeup for each other's weaknesses. But this is the deal and we’ve been told you always adhere to the parameters of any mission, working with this team is within those parameters. That and we aren’t presenting you with a choice here, this is how it is.”

Silver ran over it in his mind for a moment, the Gealtirocht was right, there was no real choice here. Even if he killed both of them and somehow escaped, he’d be hunted by the GES, UCL and his former employer for the rest of his life.

He sighed, feeling a weight pull him down at the thought.

“Ok, so where am I off to?”



System analysis…

Host, Silver, offline.

Activating Mobile Response Unit.

The armour of Silver began to beep and whir as a small drone detached from his leg, hovering into the air above his host.

Scanning…

The situation was grim, below the thick canopy of the forest, their immediate area was covered in a fine mix of mist and ether-electrical smoke from the crash. That and the thick shrubbery around them impaired the scouts scanning ability. The only thing that could really be seen was the plumes of black smoke billowing out from the crash site. Silver had been thrown a bit of a distance away, possibly being ejected from the craft after it tore open during the initial impact.

Scanning for signs of life...

The small drone buzzed as a small laser blanketed the area. It found nothing but small forest dwelling animals for as far as it could sense, there was no one else in the immediate area. Dropping down just above Silver’s chest it began to scan it’s Host.

Assessing...

CPD Shield, overloaded, recharging, took brunt of initial impact.

It whirred further, moving up and down his body.

Damage Report, cybernetics, minimal damage, no repairs required. Organic tissue, small metallic object protruding from Host’s abdomen, right lumbar region. Impact to crucial internal organs, unlikely.

Four small spider shaped legs sprung from the bottom of the drone as it landed above Silver’s left pec.

Analysis, attacked by unknown hostiles, likely in immediate danger, administer of minor adrenaline shot authorised.

The drone bent down and a sharp puncture was heard as Silver shot up.

“What in the goddamn hell?”

His heart pounded, his ears rang and the side of his body burned with a white hot sharpness.

“What the hell did you do Jerry?” he groaned as his right hand dropped to his side.

The little drone whirred around the cyborg, just out of arm's length, before dropping back into its slot on his leg.

You were unresponsive, I was prompted by my protocols to assess the situation and administer a minor shot of adrenaline. I can produce a full report if you wish.

Silver looked down at his leg and rolled his eyes.

“No Jerry, just, argh,”

Pain shot up from his side as the Cyborg tried to stand.

You have a small protruding metallic…

“Yes I know, I know. You’d think when they rebuilt me they would take away my ability to feel pain.”

That would be counterproductive to your biological…

Silver clicked his tongue in frustration.

“Jerry, just shut up for 5 minutes, that was rhetorical.”

The Cyborg took a deep breath in as he gripped the shard. He breathed out heavily before repeating the cycle in quick succession, prepping himself for the pain. Drawing in a final breath in, he gritted his teeth, yanking the object free. A muffled groan of pain seeped through his teeth as he tossed aside the piece of jagged metal.

“God dammit.”

Silver reached up, massaging his temples with his hand, calming himself down. Getting control of his body and letting his forehead go, he closed his eyes, focusing in on his heart beat.

It was still somewhat rapid due to the adrenaline but as he began to tap into his ethereal ability, it quickly came under control. He began to feel himself fade from the physical realm as the pain on his side evaporated. It was an intoxicating feeling, akin to how he felt floating out in the void of space. The temptation to lose yourself in the Ether and the Abzu was always there with the only thing pulling him back to the real world being the intense shadow of the creatures that could be felt worming their way through the void.

Thirty seconds was all it took and then bam, he returned, his side completely healed. The hole left in his suit was something his oddly named friend could take care of.

“Ok Jerry,” Silver said, standing up, “Do your thing.”

The small scout drone crawled across his suit and got to work on repairs while the Cyborg surveyed the area.

Ok, assessment time, what the hell happened up there. What do I remember?

Silver thought back, he was sitting towards the end of the ship, far away from any members of his team. Then without warning they were hit. The cockpit was open and the blood of the pilot shot to the back of the plane. Alarms sounded as warnings blared over the intercom.

A GES stealth ship hit with no warning? They have the most advanced stealth tech on the market, who could’ve...

Suddenly shouts could be heard in the distance. Was it other survivors? Unlikely, there were too many voices and they weren’t coming from the direction of the crash site. Realisation dawned on Silver.

“They’re here to finish the job.”

The Cyborg went to take off but hesitated. What about his team? Should he return to the crash site to look for survivors?

The answer was quickly forced upon him as his comms lit up. Accepting the ping, a soundwave image appeared in his HUD and a voice crackled through.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE!"

The sound fractured as the voice faded momentarily in and out, trying to pierce the massive amount of interference.

"THEY KNEW… THERE IS NO TIME… WE NEED TO LINK UP… CANNOT SEND LOCATION DATA DUE TO INTERF-”

A thunderous crack echoed throughout the rainforest, followed by several more.

“Oh that does not sound good.”

Silver was right as hell began to rain down on the area. The cyborg had never experienced mortar fire before but he knew not to stick around. Activating his cloaking ability he took off through the trees, navigating the thick brush of the forest floor as best he could. Around him the peaceful scenery began to simply evaporate, tree’s splintered into thousands of pieces as it felt as if he was traversing directly through a vicious thunderstorm.

The bombing was so intense that the ground shook, forcing Silver to slow down. Crouching close to the earth for balance, he pressed on hoping to clear the firing line. Luckily his ejection from the ship had meant he was on the outskirts of the action anyway and it wasn’t long before he found himself in a small clearing and out of harm's way.

Taking a knee, Silver gave himself a minute to gather his thoughts.

Ok think, what the hell is going on, who shoots down a plane and then rains down explosives on top of the crash area. It’s complete overkill. Something is very wrong, and that voice? Who was that?

He quickly looked around to make sure he hadn’t wandered into an enemy camp site.

Fuck it, I’m alive, the mission still stands. I’ll find the city, get to the scientists and get the hell out of here.

“Jerry,” Silver said out aloud,

“Get above the tree tops and guide me towards the city.”

Suddenly a feeling of guilt tugged at him from deep inside.

“And… er… search the rainforest for signs of live engagement. If what the GES said was true, there might be other survivors out there.”

The scouting drone dipped as if nodding in agreement before flying towards a tree and sprouting its legs. Jerry began it's climb towards the sky. All Silver could do now was wait.

Incoherent yelling and bitching came from the front part of the wreckage behind the pilot's cockpit; the hole created was partially blocked by a large metal object, a shield with an arm attached to it. In hand was a pistol, that some parts looked incredibly shiny and new, but others looked like they had just been burned, and possibly part of an explosion that had happened several feet from where it's the owner was sitting. With a good pull of the armored suit and some good old fashioned suit strength, the arm and shield were free and able to be used again.

Stepping from a small portion of the wreckage was a large armor suit with an angry, furious man inside it. Not just from the crash but because something had happened in the crash, and possibly before the crash. The blast had done something very annoying, aside from killing one of the only humans within a thirty-foot radius, break his new toy. He had just gotten that thing as an early welcoming gift from his new employers.

"What in the everlasting fucking bullshit is this!" replied the angry noncom as he found himself in the wreckage of a crashed transportation flyer. His new shiny pistol broken, it's gas tube has broken open, and its energy distributer shattered. "I just got this damn thing, and now's it's broken. In the name of the fucking heavens, whoever broke my new damn..."

He was cut off by an ear-piercing screech of static in his ear, as someone had broken through, and then a voice came over the net. It was more or less a warning with the ambiance of a solid warzone inside it.

"Hey, can ya hear me? Who the hell knew we were gonna be landing here? And wait, by here do ya mean where we crashed or where we were supposed to fuc-k..." the static had gone back to static as he was midway through trying to interrupt the man to get some answers. Instead, he was interrupted by the static and something far more immediate to the noncom and anyone else who had survived the landing.

Above him, he watched as the metaphorical rockets' red glared above him, mortars. Several thoughts were going into his head, one to duck into the foliage for cover, two to duck back into the shuttle for cover, or three to duck into the shuttle and put his shield up.
All are likely to be good answers; foliage would help with the incoming enemies that, to him, with the standard-setting of his helmet, looked like tiny shadows moving in the distance.

"If you can hear me, get into cover!" his voice would echo out, he didn't remember if he saw anyone or thing in the wreckage as he was coming out.

Without much thought, he would jump towards the wreckage and pull himself and his shield under it as an added protection. This was his choice; he would hope that there were others nearby still alive it as it would likely be the safest place to hunker down before the fighting started. Maybe once everything goes up in mortar fire.

One moment, Linus was staring out one of the aircraft’s windows, reminiscing. Well, truthfully told, that’s what they’ve been doing during all the journey so far, only looking away at times to engage in polite chatter with some of the others. But most of the time, they observed their once home planet, spending time in quiet reflection. There were some familiar sights, some that seemed familiar, and others that were utterly unknown yet sparked a sense of distant nostalgia for this mess of a planet.

In the next instance, the cockpit was destroyed, the pilot killed. Linus whipped their head to stare at the front, shocked still for a few milliseconds. Despite the impossibility of it, their vessel had been shot down and was now in the midsts of descending uncontrollably. This…should not have happened. The only way it could have was that someone in the know didn’t like what they were about to do. The specifics of how, why, and who could be pondered upon later, however; right then, alarms were blaring (or rather, sputtering weakly in and out of existence), smoke and the scent of destroyed machinery was spreading, and their vehicle was loudly protesting its violent nosedive.

Linus didn’t need the holographic warning to know they had to brace for impact. To prepare for it, they activated nearly all of their Nerakian keys (leaving the offensive stingers dormant), and positioned four of their defensive discs around their body, covering themselves and anyone in the immediate vicinity. The other four were sent to reinforce the most vital parts of the vehicle, so as to lessen the risk of being crushed or pierced or – as had already happened to one individual when Linus wasn’t paying attention – thrown out.

With the yellow energy barriers engaged and ether repository orbs fueling them, all Linus could now do was hold onto their seat with one hand, and grip their backpack and weapons tightly to their body with the other. The sharp drop was nauseating and disorienting, and despite all preparations, Lin blacked out for a short while upon impact. When they opened their eyes, they had to spend a few moments blinking out dancing black-whit spots. Their head was pounding, and the Nerakian keys were barely responsive enough to clumsily fly back to their armor and integrate with it. The ether they’d stored in the orbs had been nearly exhausted. At the least Lin did not seem to be injured beyond some mild blunt trauma, which they must have suffered whenever they smacked into their ether barriers.

Satisfied with their physical condition, Linus groaned, and extracted themselves from the seat. Before leaving the aircraft, they checked if anyone living was still inside, and if they were, Linus would help get them out if need be. They were wary of the dangers of the GES vessel exploding, and were eager to vacate the premises. The added incentive of approaching hostiles also helped to settle their decision. Under different circumstances, Lin would be glad to stand their ground and show the bastards what a pissed off Celaderaka could accomplish, but their team was scattered, confused, and otherwise not at all ready for such an action. Unfortunately, direct confrontation was out of the question.

So was approaching Kerovnia. Linus had no idea why the city seemed as if it suddenly hosted a dedicated enemy battalion, but someone must have really opposed their mission. The sudden and unexpected voice over the coms – which had relayed nothing but static up until then – confirmed that they, whoever ‘they’ were, knew about their mission and were eager to prevent it being accomplished. To top it off, energy mortar fire was approaching from overhead. “We need to get out of here,” Lin growled to no one in particular, then proceeded to hightail it through the woods, away from the hostiles and Kerovnia, heading approximately northwards.

Strange.

Were sect ships supposed to land this way?

As the molten metal and viscera flew through the cabin, Corsica watched as the red text appeared in front of the dead man's body. Likely not, she thought to herself. She did little to brace herself from the impact. If her death would come, it would come. There would be nothing she could do to stop it. If she lived, then she lived. That's all there was to surviving catastrophic crashes.

The impact shook her to the ground. Her armour prevented any serious damage. Not that she would be able to tell. Even if her bones were broken and joints dislocated, she would only be able to feel an injury if a limb gave out as she tried to walk.

The ship came to a halt. Miraculously, she hadn't been thrown off. It wasn't her time after all. Quickly, she picked herself up and walked off the broken shuttle. As the mortars detonated far, she gave her arms a quick stretch. Nothing seemed to be dislocated, nor did anything seem broken. She was no worse for wear than the day before.

Well, now was no time to be slacking. The high prophet gave her a mission. She'd see it though to the end. At least, unless the prophet gave her a new order. With rifle in hand, she watched as the one in the keyed armour venture into the jungle. Then she looked at the one hunkering behind the wreckage of the shuttle. After that, she looked at the distant energy mortars that slowly encroached on their location.

She knew which side she'd be on. She reached for one of her solar tablets--a peculiar device that was triangular in shape and was as large as the palm of one's hand. She tossed it at his feet, with the intent that he could use it for whatever purpose he needed while hunkered down.

"Good luck in the fire, brother."

And she was off into the forest with one in keyed armour.

How? That was what was going through Vin's mind as the cockpit was ripped open, and only half of the pilot was left. How? As he quickly went to brace himself as it was clear to him without the computer listed the warning about needing to brace. How could have this happen? Vin has never heard of a Sect ship that has been shot down before since the Sect is very good at making stealth ships. Never once had a Sect ship he had been one had the danger of being shot down, which made him feel rather safe in one but, now that has quickly changed as the rush of air-filled the ship as it descended rapidly out of control. Vin closed his eyes and waited for the eventual crash and the possible pain that comes with it.

The crash ended up knocking him out, and the next thing Vin knew. He was on his back in the ruined remains of the ship. Vin groaned as the pain across his body quickly set in. Vin made himself sit upright to make an assessment of things. Everything hurt, but nothing felt like it was broken. Strained maybe, and it made him regret not having tougher power armor. Vin's armor is not made for impacts like this but, at least it kept his bones intact. Not to mention his life and his cybernetic arm seem alright. He did a quick check of his armor's systems. The digital interface still worked, luckily, along with the cloaking system. Vin sighed in relief as his armor still worked.

Vin painfully got up, and that was when through the static, he heard the voice. Saying to get out and that they knew they were coming. Then cutting out, they knew that they were coming? How...how would they know that Vin thought to himself. Unless someone tipped them off, and that means someone on the inside. A traitor in the Sect then and Vin had a small fire grow in him. Someone will pay for this.

Time did not let him think more about it as he turned around to and spotted the approaching hostiles. Moving to a piece of debris as cover and he could see the outlines of people coming to the wreak. That they had what looked like long guns and the sounds of mortar fire. Vin sighed again, "Of course, they were ready to wipe us out." He said bitterly as he started to move away from his cover. Unslinging his plasma carbine and turned on his cloaking. He needed to get out of here before those mortars hit and find his teammates.

Looking around for any sign of his teammates, he caught one whose armor was on fire. Good, someone is alive, he thought as he chose to follow her into the forest. Hoping to find others and regroup to properly face the ones that are hunting them. And finish their mission and maybe find the one or ones that betrayed the Sect. But, that will be after they survive, that is. If they survive and Vin does not plan on dying on this world.

Outskirts of Kerovnia
GES transport crash site
Status: Nominal

Fracture. In a matter of moments, the even sensation of motorized flight had given way to a chaos of pulsing lights, shuddering of yielding metal, dancing kaleidoscopic haloes of heat and a flotsam of sounds carried by the river of roaring wind. Through her thermosensitive faceted eyes, Zsresrinn saw the evenly orange-red form of their craft's pilot emerge into sight, then erupt into a blinding flash. The sight was bizarre and grotesque at once, large parts of the mangled body flaring up with unnatural heat even as its extremities began to cool in deathly patches. There was something mesmerizing in the sight of a body blasted by directed energy, but it was not that by now familiar, even trite, spectacle that occupied her thoughts. Ambush sprang into her mind, more as instinct than an articulate word. So much for the Gnosis Eaters' reputation. Sudden attacks and skirmishes were not outside the norm on Chalgheol. A dozen times the Carnazir and their allies had unexpectedly struck at columns and convoys she had been trudging along with, and a dozen times she had clung to her ground in jungles and ruined streets, hammering them down as they came. As for how many times the Leaguers had tried that, she had stopped counting long ago.

The Sect, however, and by extension this mission, were supposed to be different. How exactly, she had never been told in detail, though a single look at the sophisticated control systems in the cockpit, contrasted with her memories of battered and patched-up hardware among Zrovreni and Dolsilvec alike, spoke volumes. All the same, what she understood well enough was that the unknowns should only begin once they were on-site. A disruption now meant the Sect had either failed at the secrecy that was supposed to have always been its staple, or else that its vaunted neutrality was really just for show. Being caught in the middle of it, she did not like the idea of either.

No time to think about that now. Warnings flashed, and she felt the ground grow closer. Armour plates spreading about the circumference of her body, Zsresrinn folded in her limbs, gathering on herself like a living spherical cocoon.

Impact.

Jolted out from the wrecked cabin, she rolled across the forested ground, tearing down shrubs and flattening fungal growths as she went. Her armour followed her movements like a set of legs, shifting and adjusting to bear the brunt of the collisions, until she finally came to a stop against a massive, craggy old trunk. She cautiously probed about her innards with nervous tendrils. The evzredigor core within her was almost crystalline in its semi-material fragility, and as she felt around it a sudden fear of deepening any damage caused the by the impact made her hesitate. No need. Everything was in place, shielded by the many layers of flesh and chitin veined with its thin, cool roots. Only once she was satisfied of this did she scan her own body proper, pushing herself up onto her hindlegs as she did. Some muscular strains, some ruptured minor vessels. Nothing permanent-

"- GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE -"

Just as well.

She felt the arcing energy shots cut through the sky before she heard them, distant currents of superheated air rippling and crashing against her feelers. Off in the distance, shapes were moving, closing in. Maybe humanoid; certainly too many. The questions of who they were or why they had staged the attack did not occur to her - the enemy, that was enough to know for the moment. Rearing herself up, Zsresrinn raised a pair of overlapping carapace plates beneath her eyes, exposing the flesh beneath. The grey mass twisted and rippled, shaping itself into an extruding rectangular barrel of fibrous, bark-like matter. Inhale, track, fire. The spineblaster spat its sharp-tipped projectile with a wheezing pop, like a whale exhaling after a deep dive. It was unlikely to hit anything at that distance, but a warning shot to slow the assailants in their tracks was the best she could do now.

"If you can hear me, get into cover!"

Zsresrinn half-spun about, turning a set of eyes away from the treeline and back towards the wreckage of the aircraft. Her team - her fellow agents in this, at any rate - was already dispersing. She caught a glimpse of the Nova operative's massive heat signature heading off, followed by the muted, fading traces of one of the 'hangers. The one who had spoken, the power-armoured human, was digging in at the impact site. She snapped her mandibles. The broken hull was unlikely to survive a bombardment like the one that was being aimed at them.

"Move out," she half-rasped, half-chittered through a secondary vocalizer, carefully modulating her breath to match the alien vertebrate speech rhythm, "Unsafe here. Better regroup."

Without waiting for a response, she set off into the thick of the jungle, crawling over the undergrowth in long, measured steps. Comms were down, probably jammed; there was no telling where most of the group had ended up; the enemy heavily controlled the area; choosing any single direction to follow was a matter of blind luck as much as anything else...

But it was the best she had now, and it would have to do.

LEGIUS

The steady green light switched to a panicked blinking red. A robotic voice reported. “Power failure detected. Containment cell destabilizing. rerouteing... rerouteing... Failure...Containment cell destabilized." A set of buzzes and flickers followed as the cell's energy door powered down. Inside lay what could only be described as a massive armored ball. A host of pipes were attached to it, angrily hissing as they disconnected.

White and black holes tore into its vision as the hive tried and failed to activate its optics. It felt nothing but pain and confusion. Unfurling from its forced hibernation Legius lurched to its feet, half leaping half stumbling out of the containment cell. Its right leg gave way, sending it tumbling in a disarray of limbs. Less than a quarter of its cognitive functions were online making movement all but impossible. Trying to stand, it took two more steps only to fall flat on its face. Deaf and blind, it sluggishly tried to piece what happened together. Most of the hive was still fast asleep and it failed utterly. Moving purely on instinct with no thought and no sight, it blindly stumbled and fell, trying to find an exit. Its tail and spider legs were limply dragging after it, as it had no neural capacitance to spare. Nodes were waking with every passing second, forming simple thoughts as it regained intelligence. Dozens of nodes whispered in unison. "P̷̱̆͜r̷̫̪̉̋a̷̅͌͜v̴͈̎̑o̶̰͗͑s̵̢̫̋?̷̣̫̐̋ ̸̬͛Ḡ̶̳̲̈o̴͉̐͠ń̴̰͕͝ę̶͘̕.̵͕́̋ ̸̗̺̇M̷̮̑i̶̛̙̰͆s̴͉͊s̸̙͌ỉ̵͚̫o̸͇̓́ň̶̡̞.̵̓͒͜ ̸̜͆C̷̣̯͊r̷̟̙͗a̶̢͛s̸̯̊͂h̴̢̡̊.̷̲̩̐̏ ̵͓̃̀͜P̴̛̞̖r̷̻̓a̴͈͑v̷͈̝͗o̴̙̔̓s̶̲̚͜?̴̜͐͊ ̷̟̜̎G̶̲̀̀o̸̧̕͠ͅn̵͔͑e̷͕̽.̶̕ͅ ̴̺̆̈́Ò̶̎ṛ̶̗͌d̷̜̩͊͆e̵͈̎r̷̡͔̈́s̵̢̝̋?̷̰̉ N̸̳̏ͅo̶̹̾n̴̖͔͊ê̷̜͎ ̶̋"There were no orders. Pravos was not there to guide it. What was it supposed to do? Where was it supposed to go? As it continued to struggle through the wreckage with complete sensory deprivation, a cluster of nodes woke. The dark silence gave way to a jumble of color and sound as more nodes connected to the hive. Stunned by a head-splitting whine as it started to calibrate its audio receptors .“Uns...re...ter...regroup.” It had caught part of some words, but as it was unintelligible as its hearing came and went. Shambling towards the sound, it once more nose-dived straight through a hole.

Jerking and twitching, it rose to its feet as the hive attempted to harmonize. Its vision was gradually stabilizing, revealing the devastation the crash had caused. Turning, it looked up at the approaching energy shells, memories from long-dead hosts stirring at the harrowing whistle so loud now that they would be falling any second. Its multiple nodes agreed.“D̶̜͑a̸̦̻̅̈́n̶̛͙̾ͅĝ̸͔̻e̷̬̣̔r̷͉̊ͅ.̶̥̇̇͜ ̴̝̖̏D̷̹̠̆ḛ̸̄a̶͉̤̓̌ẗ̴̬́h̴͍̊̋.Ļ̵̤̀̐ē̸̫a̶̡͐͝v̷̟̽̕e̸͈̙͘.” Its eyes barely functioning, it did not even notice the human hunkering down in the crash site. It only wanted to leave this place which was soon to be filled with deadly explosions. Flooding its system with chemicals, it forcibly woke the rest of itself up. After taking a few shaky steps, it erupted into a burst of speed, streaking over the ground. Using all twelve of its limbs, it leaped, virtually flying. It did not want to be there when those shells hit. Legius latched onto one of the mighty forest giant’s trunk, only briefly surveying its surroundings before leaving its vantage point. There was no time to take in the sights. Its elevated position had revealed far more of the battleground. Projectiles were haphazardly flying through the air. Scores of heat signatures were showing up, both close and far away. There were a lot of hostiles moving in. Keeping as close as possible to the ground, it scuttled through the underbrush heading for the safest area. Without any orders and no immediate want for feeding there was no meaning to attack. Deciding to try and find one of its team members, as one of Pravos' last orders were to work alongside her with their new team, it streaked towards the nearest entity that was also retreating from the area.

Barely a minute had passed since the crash and already its deadly cargo was up in arms and in action. As most of the party headed towards the wood, the raiding party neared. Black silhouettes in the foliage and spaces between the trees began to clear and multiple shapes bipedal in form began to emerge. Humans most likely by the layered plated armour, interspersed with larger tarrhaidim by the bolted or half-melded plating complimented with limb servos attached by a similar manner. The particulars of their armour were difficult to make out but it at the very least seemed basic, lower level clearance material, potentially military surplus form wars prior. The rifles in their arms were long, tubular, equipped with simple scopes and sights – a few using laser targetters to sweep the wreckage and for their frantic quarry, the red beams invisible to the naked eye.

They were equipped for engagement at a distance and as multiple party members broke from the wreckage, they fell into the sights of these lengthy weapons. The air crackled and hissed as chemo-electric discharge shattered the ambience of burning metal and cackling electricity, just as the enormous globules of blue-white plasma slammed into the ground. Waves of destructive heat and ghastly flames scorched over the crash site, causing nearby bark and foliage to combust before their ashes were blown away by violent shockwaves of force, radiating outwards and into those scattering towards the woods.

Paris, hunkering down into the wreckage, would be beset by the full brunt of the infernal heat and concussive force. The malfunctioning void-tech that powered the crashed transport fared no better as tortured metal was devoured by the hellish blossoms, bursting into nauseating clouds of ethereal luminescence, swamping the area in an unearthly glow. What was once the wreckage of the plane collapsed or shattered, sending deadly bits of burning metal fragments flying outwards. One could even hear a few distant windows smashed open from the flying bits of metal. Paris’ armour would be pushed to the limits as forces both physical and immaterial crashed upon it.

It was bright enough that a few of the encroaching hostiles were forced to duck behind tree and stone but more than a few simply crouched and watched, weapons raised as they took aim. Against the hungry glare of the mortar blast, the forms of the Sect team had been silhouetted in a sharp black against the pinkish bluish blob of flame. In the ensuing carnage of the blast, they had not seen Legius leap up into a tree nor its disappearance into the brush.

They too were unaware of Silver and Vin Valvoi: even as residual ether clung to their bodies; their eyes were focused elsewhere. Before Legius had leapt down, the bio-colony would have seen another distant shape – rock like, craggy, hovering off of the ground on a quartet of outwards-spreading cones. They were anti-gravitational emitters, attached to a body that was at first malformed to its sight but almost tank-like in build, bearing strange polyp-like growths plated with heavy armour, some of which smoked and blurred with immense heat.

It was an unztadtlige; a living weapons platform made from a gestalt consciousness of cybernetically interlinked coral-like organisms. Given that it was faintly within visual range, it was either not using its heaviest ordinance… or it planned to do direct fire support. It was far, far behind the team firing upon the scattering Sect team, ripping off massive chunks of trees with their heavy duty spike rounds as they fired at will at any Sect member in sight, but it was starting to hover closer and closer. Multiple panels across its body could be seen swivelling and spinning, gas coughing up as it released excess heat and began to unravel a smaller array of medium to heavy calibre weapons. It had annihilated the craft – now it was going to help finish off the rest of the team once it got close enough.

Another series of strange shapes would begin to appear between the infantry team and their hefty cragged companion. Their bodies had been roughly camo painted to match the environment but they could not be more mismatched visually. One had a semi-flattened body like that of a crab hosting a variety of complex sensory equipment, propped up on a series of tubes connected to a pair of powerful synthetic biomatter legs. Emerging from behind its body were a pair of mag-guns with multiple magazines loaded into them.

Accompanying it was a far stranger, misshapen bioconstruct. It was like half the skeletal body of some great extinct dinosaur, layered in a plaster-like cartilaginous looking armour. All of this resulted in but a waist, a pair of long digitigrade legs, and almost limb-flaps emerging from the sides of its hips. Yet on top of this bizarre oddity sat a far larger magnetic accelerator gun – a machine gun compared to the twin rifles of its companion. Two long stocks with orange tips, like the eyes of some large snail, emerged from its waist-body, scanning for its plentiful targets.



The waist-machine switched towards the enormous vrexul warrior, firing a deadly spray of smoke-trailing accelerated rounds, ripping through multiple trees and smoking up the ground before it with woodchipped dust as it intended to rip the bioweapon apart. Meanwhile, its relatively less malformed compatriot swerved outwards on a parallel travel path to Corsica and Linus, firing disciplined bursts of hyper-accelerated rounds in front of them with one rifle, aiming to get them to stumble and pause. Its other arm would then let loose with a longer spray, attempting to slice them in half with its armour piercing fury.

Beyond the crash site however, the forest was a busy place. Above in the skies, the drone construct Jerry had been able to not only visually make out the rest of the sect team but mark them down on Silver’s HUD. The drone’s scans also marked out the locations of the rest of the hostile intercepting force but that wasn’t all. There were more hostiles: motion sensors would detect aggressive movement behind the partially crumbled walls of Kerovnia but nothing was breaking from cover yet. There were already other squadrons moving about – one of which seemed to be on the same travel path as Corsica and Linus as if their current troubles were not enough. Another was moving towards the wreck-site from the east at a slower pace and energy readings seemed to suggest it was carrying heavier ordnance.

Yet there seemed to be a particular slice of the woods just north of Corsica and Linus’ current travel path that would lead into a nearby, partially ruined park that itself lead into a residential area, that didn’t seem particularly occupied. The problem was getting there. There was a very sharp numbers advantage for their yet unidentified assailants and their approaching reinforcements. It was possible that the destroyed craft might be interfering with their communications as well – hence why another wave hadn’t emerged from the crushed city walls.

Their coms were buzzing wildly again – the voice that had yelled at them earlier was trying to re-establish communications. Yet now their voice was further mangled.

“-IN THE TRANSPORT WRECKAGE, IS HE-…- AT THE PARK-…-HAVE VISUAL CONTACT WITH THE RECLAI-…-MULTIPLE HOSTILES-…-REGROUP AT-…-JAMMER DEVICE PREP-…-“

Whatever he was trying to say, it was clear that a hammer had been brought forth to crush the scalpel that was the Sect team.

A blinding light enveloped the area as the last of the mortars fell on their crash site. It was so bright that Silver had to momentarily dim the feed coming from his visor. His cybernetic sensors were fast becoming overwhelmed as the deafening screams of warfare ripped through the trees, from the thunderous crashes of mortars to the whip like cracks of rifle fire.

The Voidhanger had never been through anything like this.

Sure back in the day there was the odd mission that went south but, planetside, the worst that Silver had faced was a squad or two of personal guard. Lightly armoured, these goons had pea shooters by comparison, attempting to stop the assassin from his mark. But even still, all of this was done in the Core of the UCL, there was a decorum there, a sense of style and grace that everyone followed, as if they were shooting in a grand library or during a ball. This, this was different; dirty, heavy, ugly, it was nothing but grunt warfare. The kind meant for mindless drones and their puppeteer superiors who threw toy after toy at each other until one fell over in defeat.

Silver shifted, changing which knee was planted in the dirt, trying to loosen up. The artificial adrenaline shot had long worn off and Jerry was taking its sweet time scanning the area. It was so long that the cyborg had begun to take note of his surroundings. Dead plantlife littered the floor of the rainforest, fallen leaves from the thick canopies above layered the ground. Everything and everywhere was wet with the humidity caused by the constant shade. Around Silver, thick roots from large trees ensconced him, as smaller ferns and shrubs reached out to try and touch him.

All of it made his skin crawl, he could practically feel the bacteria.

Ugh, planetside.

He thought, as he rubbed his throat with his hand.

Host, Silver, my analysis is complete.

The sound of Jerry’s small robotic voice played in Silver’s helmet, breaking his concentration as the drone breached this side of the forest.

“What have you got for me Jerry?” he replied.

The drone climbed down the trunk of the closest tree. An odd little thing, Jerry was shaped similarly to a CCTV camera from the 21st century. A large lens at the front enabled it to scan things at a tremendous distance and in surprising detail. Even more surprising was its ability to transform and flatten itself out so perfectly, it fit within Silvers’ leg armour without being noticed.

Midway down the trunk, Jerry stopped, looking up before leaping out towards Silver. Once in the air, two little panels flung open, revealing VTOL like propellers. It was a simple, and often unexpected design, that allowed the drone to infiltrate into most situations unseen and unheard, aiding it’s host tremendously.

Would you like the good news or the bad news?

Silver flashed a quick smirk under his helmet, followed by a reprimanding tone.

“Jerry, I’m not sure this is the right time to test out that humour update I gave you.”

Apologies, Host, Silver, it was assumed that humour might help you with your overwhelmingly negative situation.

The cyborg’s head dropped, as his hand slowly tried to wipe the stress from his face.

“Just…” he exhaled,

“Fine, the bad news.”

Silver’s HUD lit up like a Christmas tree on crack. A small topical map of the area appeared on screen with their enemies positions being highlighted in a thick red mass.

There is a large group of enemies encroaching on you and your team's position. A forward team of what appears to be simply equipped humans are taking point; followed by heavily armed bio-walkers and a heavy ordinance Unztadtlige in the far back. Scans also indicate that another potential mortar team is moving towards the crash site, though I was not able to confirm this. On top of this there is a large contingency of enemies waiting for you to enter the city.

Jerry paused, its learning algorithm had predicted a 90% chance that it’s Host would reply with a sarcastic quip at this point. Instead Silver motioned for the drone to continue, it would make the appropriate adjustments to it’s behavioural monitors of its Host later.

Other members of your team,

Several individual blue lights appeared on screen, paling in comparison to the red that covered the map.

Have been engaged.

Small little red lines indicated the direction of live fire towards some of the blue dots on the map.

Silver sighed, looking down and around, as if the answer to his problems were to be found elsewhere. Outgunned, outnumbered and in the middle of nowhere, the odds couldn’t be more stacked against them.

“Ok,” he said, looking up,

“and the good news?”

The drone whipped around the cyborg, zipping back and forth in front of him, as if excited by all the action.

A few members of your team, yourself included, have not been spotted. We have also detected a clearing to the East of the city, a residential area, devoid of enemy signatures. It appears to be an ideal location to regroup.

“Or for an ambush.”

My scans did not indicate…

“Yes, yes, I know,” Silver said, shoeing the drone away.

“I was just thinking out loud.”

Suddenly an ear piercing whine came through the comm channel as the mysterious voice returned.

“-IN THE TRANSPORT WRECKAGE, IS HE-…- AT THE PARK-…-HAVE VISUAL CONTACT WITH THE RECLAI-…-MULTIPLE HOSTILES-…-REGROUP AT-…-JAMMER DEVICE PREP-…-“

“Jerry, anything you can do to clear up that signal?”

Not without giving away our position, Host, Silver. Though the park referenced in the message lays just before the residential area.

The cyborg stood, looking the way of the park as if he could see it through the thick collection of trees. He was so close and no one had noticed him, not even anyone on his team. He could easily make it there alone and continue on to complete the mission. Not even the GES would know.

Jerry, seemingly noticing his Host’s hesitation, sprouted its legs and flung himself onto Silvers’ arm. The cyborg looked down as the drone crawled up and onto his right pec, inching it’s scanning lens (or eye) towards his face.

“Don’t you give me that look Jerry.”

The drone was silent, refusing to move from its stance. A heaviness began to drag at Silvers’ heart as he let out a pained groan.

“Fine!”

The cyborg held out his arm, turning the palm of his hand up for Jerry to use as a perch. The drone jumped with what was a little too much enthusiasm for Silver’s taste.

“The two closest to the park,”

Team members Reclaimer Corsica and Linus Guiren, according to the doss…

“Yes, yes, them. Take them this message first, then find the others, give them the same message and point everyone towards the park. This is Silver, a surviving member of your GES team, I will be providing sniper fire from the edge of the forest to cover your approach to the park. My stealth armour should keep me safe long enough for most of you to reach that area and repay the favour. My drone will point you in the direction of said park after this message. Good luck.”

With that the drone jumped from its perch, folding it’s legs back in. Silver motioned forward, feeling the strings of emotion tug inside once more.

“Jerry… er… just hurry up and don’t scare anyone into shooting you.”

The drone dipped again, nodding, before taking off towards the rest of the group. The cyborg reached over his left shoulder, grabbing the stock of his sniper and pulled it into it’s familiar position across his chest. With a final sharp exhale, Silver grit his teeth and tore off through the forest ready for action.

Incoherent yelling, as well as sounds of metal, mechanical parts of armor, and a loud whining sound, were coming from up under the flyer as it was summarily being lifted from the bottom by a slightly annoyed man with armor and a shield and bombarded from the top by an epileptic's nightmare of flashy mortars. That poor ship, being stuck between a rockheaded man and a large grouping of explosions.

Thankfully for Paris, the ship was lightening up significantly, but it was also heating up extremely fast. He slowly started to pivot the shield up while resting it on his legs to give his joints some help, as well as even out the bombardment on the shield once the ship eventually broke over his shield if it ever did. He closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to deal with the lights above him and looked down so that the more fragile bits over his eyes would be damaged by anything explosive.

Soon he hoped he could join the fight and not be under the light artillery fire. But his yelling persisted, mainly things insults at the artillery itself. The artillerymen and women were likely a distance off. He was lucky it wasn't anything larger than a mortar-like this. He began thinking about this and how he should have brought a bigger suit of armor. It would have hurt more when they hit the ground, but it would have definitely faired a lot better than what he was currently wearing. Nearing the bombardment's ending, he lifted the metal bit from his vision and lifted his head. Trying to see if he could find anything that resembled a friendly person, most of the traffic over the comms system he received was drown out by mortar fire.

Well, he was hoping that the others were faring better than he was. His armor could withstand something like this under the shield, and for a good amount of time since he was able to have everything locked in the joints. The only time it wasn't locked down was when he was shifting onto a single knee. He thought for a second about what he would do after the initial bombardment. To him, at that moment, he was safest in the middle of it. His shield could withstand the temperature and most of the blasts of this size. If he was on edge, he could be blasted off balance or get caught from a stray round. At least here, he and anyone who might still be with him would be hidden from any sensors, the explosions and superheated materials around him would hide him from most heat and communications sensors, so unless if someone could detect his life force or decided to look under a smoldering wreck, there was a low chance of anyone finding him.

But on the other hand, he could try and help the others out, rush out from under the wreck in a lull, and book it to more reliable cover. From there, either engage or create... he looked down at the small triangle at his feet. If they were from that one person, that could cause some trouble in the enemy ranks. He might have to do it blind to keep the visor of his helmet safe. But it would stop that enemy advance for a short time; maybe he could regroup and retreat with his allies.

The incoherent yelling and insults had stopped.

His hand went around the small little triangle device, waiting to activate it once the mortars stopped. His rifle was mounted on the shield, ready as well for once the device was thrown. He planned on tossing it towards those watching the artillery show then start backpedaling. Those who survived that well could probably follow once everything was dissipated. That is what he did; as soon as the last mortar fell, he pushed the shield out from under the flier and raised it vertically. His body and armor pressed against as he activated the small solar tablet and tossing it over the shield before he lifted it and started hightailing it in the direction of the person who gave him that tablet.

He looked over his shoulder and ran as fast as his armored ass could in the direction the tablet person went. He was not fast at all, and he did hear pinging on the metal suit he was wearing. His head-turning as he started to see the gas spreading out behind him, and he turned to his left a bit, so his shield blocked some of his body as he ran. He ran like his life depended on it, or like a man who had his steak and beer forcibly taken from him.

Vin was moving through the trees and trying to keep up with Corsica. He could hear the mortars hitting their mark and after getting to a safe distance from the crash. Vin stopped to take cover behind a nearby tree. Looking behind him to get a better idea of who they were up against. Leveling his carbine and looking through its scope to get a better view. Vin could easily see how outnumbered and outgunned his team was. Multiple what looked like humans, a unztadtlige, and two bioautomata with who knows what else. They really rolled out the welcome wagon for us. Vin thought as he scanned for any more hostiles.

Seeing all of what he could see and spotted something that surprised him. In what little remain of the transport one of their own, Paris Vin thinks his name was. Running like hell away from the crash site and towards the woods. He manage to survive the motor strike? Impressive, he must have strong armor and made of sterner stuff. We are going to need that refusal to die right now. If we can get out of this ambush and regroup somewhere safe. Someone is going to pay for this and Vin can not wait for that. But, first, they have to get out of this mess.

As he was done looking around, Vin heard the mangled message. Vin only made a low growl of frustration, comms were useless. The inference is still strong for whoever is trying to contact them. He could try to clear up the message with his tech but, Vin doubted that he had the time right now. Their enemies are closing in and are prepared to finish them off They need to survive this and find out whoever betrayed them. Not to mention complete the mission before it is too late. Vin then started to once again follow Corsica and Paris into the woods. Better to stick together and find somewhere to regroup. Then things will truly start going their way and find a way out of this. There has to be a way to live through this. Vin hoped that at least.

Linus' weapons clattered against their body as they ran through the forest, but despite that, they were able to hear the enemy approach, and saw various silhouettes peripherally. Not liking the feeling of someone being directly behind them and them not knowing their exact positions nor what they were like, Linus dashed behind a tree for cover, turned around, and pointed their spear and shotgun in the direction of their followers.

The first one that they saw was an ally, however, the heavily armored and charred-smelling one. They waved at the figure, and greeted it. “Reclaimer? There’s enemies behind, so best take cover, shoot at them, lose line of sight, then dash,” Linus suggested once Corsica was close enough to hear.

After the mortar fire, in midst of the loud assault of various firearms, and to the background of interspersed crashed which reminded Linus of a tank, a dark gray mechanical construct approached and opened fire. In response, the Celaderaka a whole shotgun magazine at it while retreating to another tree. Momentarily letting the firearm swing freely on one of their shoulders, Linus lobed two grenades at the artificial enemy in quick succession, hoping to distract it momentarily. Then they took a hold of Serah, their spear-gun with both hands, aimed it at the base of their nature-provided cover, and uprooted the whole thing with a combination of physical prowess and a cascade of energy blasts. It fell swiftly, and Linus rolled it towards the feet of the mecha, mainly to see how it would react to an obstacle. Of course, they also immediately retreated further into the forest, behind yet another tree.

In the midst of all this, a camera-esque flying droid approached, and Linus almost shot it down on pure reflex, but stopped once it began to relay its message. “Well, I don’t mind following the drone…But we can’t just let these fellas follow us so easily,” they mused. Retreating as needing and vaguely following the drone, they observed the goings on behind them. There were a few familiar shapes approaching – more allied survivors of the wreckage, it seemed. “Wish there was time enough to stack a whole buncha trees in front of these fuckers. Not that it’d deter them for long,” they muttered.

At one point, when they happened to find themselves next to Corsica once again, Linus addressed her again. “Once the others get cleared out of here, what do you think about burning this whole section of forest? If nothing else, it might obscure us from the enemies for a while,” they suggested.

The mangled comms gave Corsica no clue as to what was actually going on. Their contact had possibly seen her, but he could have just as easily been referring to reclaimed materiel. Well, military engagements were often like that. They were nothing like engaging with mindless bioweapons. Such battles against simple foes were overwhelmingly long, but they were almost therapeutic to Corsica. As much as she had disdain for dealing with more mechanical and unhazardous foes, orders from the High Prophet were immutable after all. She would have to see this fight though. Well, get to a safe position.

The arrival of allies also brought enemies. A bioconstruct?

Well, Corsica had hoped so. If it was entirely, she'd be forced to fire her rounds and pray that the heat warped whatever alloys it was created with. Alternatively, overheat whatever hunk of silicon analog it used.

With Linus' suggestion in mind, she ran. She abstained from commenting on the simplicity of the plan. Bullets flying in one's general direction tended to silence snark. Every so often, she'd peek out from the cover a tree to fire a round at one of the construct's joints. She was more intending to cripple the gun-toting monster in some way. She had plenty of rounds for now. Missing a few shots was something she could afford.

The drone came and delivered its message. She didn't notice it until it had already began to broadcast a message. After all, the process of run-cover-aim-fire-repeat whilst not getting shot took more attention than one would expect. Well, she supposed they'd just head to the park.

When Linus and Corsica ended up near each other once more, Linus gave an idea that Corsica found agreeable. By agreeable, Corsica instinctively let out an excited "yes" and pointed at the celaderaka with enthusiasm.

Rapidly, the micro-fabricators on her hand created a blade of molten silicon-carbide. She sliced into the tree and created a gap within the trunk about the size of a solar tablet. Within the burnt and cinder-filled gap, she began to slide in one of the incendiary devices. She stopped for a brief moment to consider how long the mine should be timed for.

"Eh. I'm sure it's not their time to die."

After setting the mine for a few minutes, she slid it inside of the tree. One of three things were likely to happen when it would go off. The tree would be carved open by the shaped charge and be turned into a burning mass to ignite the underbrush. Alternatively, it the shaped charge would be ignored by the large trunk, turning the tree into a partially natural flamethrower to ignite whatever tree was across from the hole. The shaped charge could also detonate the tree, turning it into an explosive mess of charred wood fragments. She was a reclaimer, not a dendrologist. The exact specifics of the relationship between explosives and trees.

She'd probably end up using all of her Solar Tablets as she repeated the process while running. Well, it wasn't like she carried a backpack full of them. She had about 7 left and would use as many as she could while running. If she happened to run out, then she could always fabricate more out of whatever materials her suit may reclaim.

Then again, that was if they got a moment of downtime. Being constantly assailed by things firing bullets made it difficult to find the time.

Outskirts of Kerovnia
Outlying forest
Status: Under fire

Where there had been many, there now were more. What had been a relatively small and scattered force, though still beyond the ability of her party to handle at the moment, was now swelling to become a small army. Yet, even though the odds against her seemed to grow by the moment, Zsresrinn found the sight of the newly arriving enemy forces reassuring. The identity and motives of the assailants did not concern her, but until then their very nature had been unclear. Without knowing more, there were no weaknesses she could aim at, no way to tell when to avoid their fire and when it was safe to stop a moment and fire a round. For all she knew, there could have been decoys among them not worth wasting shots against, or every last one of them could have been impervious to spineblaster hits.

Not anymore. She could see, smell, taste them through the air as they came. Human. Tarrhaidim. Unztadlige. Still too many to engage directly, and she had no idea what those bio-constructs with them were capable of. But now the enemy had familiar body-forms to target. They could bleed. That was a step ahead.

As artillery hammered the remains of the craft behind them - had the human got out in time? - she felt a larger presence following in her trail. A backwards glance showed her it was the creature that Leaguer had kept locked in transit. Legius. An alien name for something with the body of a vrexul, though that was hardly the only thing off about it. The uncanniness of an otherwise familiar shape distorted so strangely by those outlandish augments and directed mutations unsettled her more than any other species, no matter how different, ever had, but that was not even the worst. A feeling in her head-vessels of something wrong under its carapace. She had felt something like that only once before, when a praolznevatz she had fought with had been overtaken by noxious Abzu parasites from overexertion. An imbalance. A flaw.

All the same, from how the Leaguer had kept it, the being was probably not to blame for its state. And right now, it seemed to want the same thing as her - get out of there in one piece.

“Approachnot-hostile-strike-stationary-possibleif,” she scraped at Legius, without stopping. Her speech would have made little sense to non-vrexul, but it came quickly and easily to her on the move. She could only hope the being had enough of its linguistic memory undamaged. “Reach-extraction-followby-raisingme-cover.”

Her agglomerations of meaning were cut short by a salvo of heavy fire crashing around them. One of the bio-constructs had opened fire towards them, and others alongside it were realigning their aim to do likewise. The unztadlige clearly had barrels to spare. A bolt struck her in the side. She did not feel the sting of pain, but a cold rush around the spot as dampening glands released their chemical signals to deaden the more distracting effects of pain. It had not gone far, no critical damage beneath the outer muscle layers, but it was a signal. Larger than the others, they were too much of a target.

Levelling her hellhammer with three limbs, Zsresrinn let out two brief bursts. Three shots at the construct, three at the unztadlige. With no immediate supply, the rounds were precious, but they were her only shot at doing more than grazing the massive eusocial creature’s defenses at this range. Even in the best case, though, it would retaliate.

She exhaled, and lines of orifices along her sides opened up like so many circular, toothless mouths. Deeper within her body, sphincters pulled apart, opening organic channels from the outside to the core of the evzredigor. As they did, streams of shimmering, ghostly blue fog, veined with crystalline smoke, vented out from the shard, spewing into the air around her as if there had been a furnace inside her. The deceptively thin vapours coiled around her as she moved, gathering in a writhing cloud that obscured the outlines of her body in a dim, refractive shroud. Heat dispersed along the unnatural fog in strange patterns, sure to mislead those enemies that relied on thermal sensors.

After the mist came a second wave. Thrumming, buzzing, twisting, a small swarm of symbiotic vermin spilled out from her body. They seemed almost worm-like, with elongated, twisting grey bodies, but twin pairs of insectile wings held them aloft. Instead of heads, each had a large, faceted black eye set where a mouth should have been. The concealing screen impeded Zsresrinn’s vision as much as that of anyone outside, and even her enhanced senses could not fully pierce through it, but not all her eyes were tied to her body. The parasites spread out, some flying ahead to give her vision of the path and terrain ahead, others leaving a trail for Legius to follow, others yet sparsely approaching the bulk of the enemy to gain a better view of their ranks.

”-PORT WRECKAGE - THE PARK - CONTACT - THE RECLAI - HOSTILES - JAMMER DEVICE -”

The fog added further interference to the already broken-up transmission, so much that she could barely make out its mangled words. Luckily, it was enough. She could not see a park from where her swarm was, but the Reclaimer, she recognized - the human with the oddly heated armour. She had felt the surging heat signature move away to her right when she had left the shuttle. The regrouping point, then, was that way.

Covered in trailing mist, the vrexul turned about as fast as her large, many-limbed form would allow and began moving along her new course.

The forest was alight with the flash of rifle fire and roaring flames emerging from the shattered carcass of the transport vessel. As the team became aware of the regroup point and the unseen ally calling for their presence, the encroaching enemy threat only furthered in its aggression. Spread out as they were, their advantage in numbers was accompanied with one in terms of pure volume of fire. The heavy-duty rifles filled the air with deadly bolts, pinging off of Paris’ shield like ringing bells but the impact was rattling and vicious. His armour might be tough but these rounds would treat it far more harshly than his shield.

Worse, the unztadtlige was nearing and as it did so, its heavy machine gun fire sharpened. A few trees next to Linus and Corsica exploded, a few of the thinner ones toppling as streams of bright purple bolts ripped right through them with raw kinetic force. Another of its turrets, emerging like some egg-like sac out of which three blocky barrels poked out, fired an angry blast at Paris, uncaring for the durability of his colossal shield. Fuzzy communication signals blared between itself and the soldiers, pushing them to trail the hulking human – with the leg servos of the tarrhaidim, that wouldn’t be a problem.

That was until mid-sprint, a horrific burst of flame and force erupted in the group that had splintered off to give chase. Limbs were torn out of sockets, worm-tendril parasites ripping out of bodies to try and escape the horrific heat, and whole soldiers tossed off of their feet and smashing through foliage, bramble, and their own allies. Paris’ solar tablet sent a whole squad into disarray as burning fungoid biomatter and hungry flames now began to consume the squadron, forcing the unztadtlige back to avoid its own coral-like biomass being touched by the raging inferno.

The bipedal bioconstruct had caught up with frightening speed, its multiple sensor eyes glaring death at Corsica and Linus but they had just managed to avoid its gauss rounds slicing them clean open. A storm of celaderaka shotgun shells repaid it in kind, clashing against a glowing dome-like field around its body. The energy shield brightened with each 12-gauge blast and the machine staggered, digging in its heels and wildly firing at the two. Crackling and sparking, it advanced again swivelling its guns towards the tree it had seen them run towards but missing a pair of grenades landing near its feet.

An explosion erupted and its energy shield shattered, a backwash of static enveloping demon and flame-monger alike, causing the robot to stagger. That was all the window needed for both to escape to the park but not before Corsica took a few choice potshots at its now vulnerable body. The human-sized machine jerked from the impact, barely affected at first. Yet what seemed at first like normal DMR rounds now erupted into flames, hungrily eating away at synesthetic biomatter around its legs and arms, forcing it to begin exuding its bio-regulatory fluids in a desperate attempt to quell the raging flames!

In the carnage, Linus had knocked over one of the larger scattering nearing footsoldiers moving to assist the bioconstruct, barely avoiding the burning bramble as it toppled, giving a momentary lull in the ruthless symphony of their rifle fire. It rolled towards them, crashing over a few smaller trees but caught against a few of its larger, not-yet-felled counterparts. The soldiers used this sudden stop to advance but wouldn’t even notice Corsica planting a particular explosive within the tree’s body, some of them even going so far to vault over it. As if enraged, the bioconstruct bent its legs and with some struggle, leapt onto the tree, crunching bark under its hefty frame as its shaky, partially bobbing guns struggled to track the retreating Sect operatives.

It didn’t get a chance to cut them off or apart this time. Another raging blast tore open the tree and the bipedal machine was caught right at the epicentre. Its legs were torn open, flash seared by the heat, arms ripping off their sockets then half disintegrating as they fell, while its crab-like head crumpled from the force. The machine fell in five different pieces, one of legs smashing into a human trooper and trapping him underneath its burning bulk, causing him to scream as his light armour fed the melting metal flames. Others had been tossed by the blast, their burning carcasses rolling over the ground to try and put out the flames or slain from the visceral blast force, bits of metal shrapnel from the wrecked bioconstruct ripping right through fungal flesh and human skin like knives through meat.

The battle was far from fully decided. A few of these heavier duty rifle rounds and the kinetic energy bolts from the coral warmachine passed mere inches from the still cloaked Silver and Vin’s armoured forms as they headed towards the park. A larger target had drawn the attention of the ambushers’ attention – the hefty vrexul warriors. Zsresrinn wasn’t spared any expense just as Paris wasn’t; a group of the battle riffle armed troops swung their aim towards her, sending a flurry of rounds barely after the eyestalked bioconstruct scored a hit on her side.

The waist machine strafed out to the side, readying its heavy-duty machine gun for another flurry of mag-accelerated death but the arthropod’s weapon was faster. Three cracks of high explosive armour piercing rounds slammed into its body, tearing out chunks of reinforced metal and synth-bone and ripping out its gut region. The unztadtlige managed to fire a burst her way before another trio slammed into its body. Dense and layered as its armour was, at this range the hellhammer had piercing power equivalent to certain light vehicle weaponry. One of the anemone like polyp stumps was ripped open, wiring and veins torn from the piercing force before sensitive bioelectronics were consumed in a blossom of flames. Two of its camera-ports were flattened by a single round rapidly ripping a trench across its upper body before slamming into a trooper using it as cover, splattering his skull into a misty pulp-spraying mess before detonating into the dirt behind him. The third round didn’t dig into anywhere near as vital but the impact and explosive force stunned the gestalt-minded brute – a well needed respite.

In the ephemeral moment between the reloading and firing of deadly weaponry, a strange and foul conjuration of arthropod biomatter and a strange almost glass-like, reflective smoke shimmered around Zsresrinn. Soldiers attempting to fire on her cursed and turned away momentarily, targeting devices momentarily overloaded by the wild, jarring patterns and sending shots wide and far. Before they could properly calibrate their targeting devices, another swarm had taken its place – a thick fog of foul buzzing insectoids, dominated by a singular eye like some parody of a common housefly, filling the air with a living smog of visually impenetrable fog.

Yet not physically. The fog shimmered and scattered at points as the hulking, powerful shape of the bony white gun-platform machine, still standing after three armour piercing rounds, stormed through and chased after the Sect team. Bursts of heavy duty magnetically accelerated rounds flew forth like solid streams of blue and white, going straight through thick trunks like nothing. This time however, it wasn’t targeting a specific member of the team but anyone unfortunate enough to be in front of it. At this point, all the survivors were outside of the interference range from the crash but a crackle was sounding over their com systems – foreign interference of some sort.

Jerry would be able to pick up the particulars of the signal. So would Vin.



Their onboard electronics weren’t being hacked – the entire squad was now being targeted!

Off in the distance, a pulsing hum that rumbled almost like a massive buzzsaw purring could be heard. If they looked back and through the cloud, they could see a number of ports opening on the back of the unztadtlige as it prepared its powerful artillery weaponry again.

“FASTER! Faster dammit, we need you to get inside jammer's safe range! We’re picking up energy buildup, multiple hidden targeting lasers from the gun-platform’s eyestalks! The unztadtlige is preparing its plasma mortars and trying to target your travel path!”
The same voice from earlier screamed over their coms as any HUDs the possessed would light up with a navigational marker – the park, near but not near enough especially with a seemingly vengeful bioconstruct bearing on them, its onboard targeting devices scanning and slowly locking onto the team. They may have fended off the footsoldiers, even destroyed the other bioconstruct, but the unzadtlige could easily match the whole squad in pure destructive power. The hellhammer’s rounds had done horrific damage but with its unusual, partially cybernetic body it did not feel the same pain (if it did at all) that others might. Nor were its most important internal systems damaged. Yet as a sapient life form, it certainly felt a murderous need to end them for good.

Up ahead however were signs of what the unseen voice had mentioned – a few trails that converged upon a road and the burnt-out husks of trucks and other civilian vehicles turned over or crashed against one another. Travelling down the road, they would be able to see trees of a different sort – the treeline itself was purposefully cropped away from the road, leaving a gulf of shrubs between the cement and the forest along with cratered blast marks and a few cadavers scattered across it.

Down the wreck-littered road, past the flattened black iron bars of a once towering gate, and into a park of once rolling now partially blast-gouged hills and withered decorative vegetation, a few vehicles could be seen. Large and blocky armoured personnel carriers of some sort with a few soldiers of some sort positioned alongside the uneven topography.

“We have visual contact. Just get a few more meters in, then we can up the jammer’s interference and blind them… wait, shit, get rid of that bioconstruct! It hasn’t seen us yet, nail it before it alerts them all!”

Pushing over trees in his path with his shield or head, clearing a nice splintered pathway of destruction for any who decide to follow, the armored man known as Sergeant Beurra, or Paris ran like a fat man to a buffet. His back began to look like a porcupine with metal projectiles sticking to the red hot metal of his armor. Inside, he began to look like a lobster of sorts. If it wasn't for ventilation, air conditioning, and him running, he would have likely been a roasted man. Burns had begun to form around large contact points, such as the hip, knees, elbows, neck, and hands.

He heard mainly static, but thankfully luck was on his side today as he was heading in the correct direction in his blind sprint. He hit the road and skidded into some probably dead guy's van leaving a large dent where his shoulder and head made an impact. Yelling and shouting ensued, and after realizing that he was against a vehicle he pulled his shoulder from its resting spot and started to move down the road again.

He looked to his left to see the bio construct. He prayed this thing was just using targeting systems with dumbfire munitions, they could at least be dodged. The hamster wheel began turning in his mind. If something was apart of a military, or whoever the fuck these guys were with, that they will likely have the same train of thought as him. A metaphorical crayon lamp over his head had begun to shine brightly. If he pissed this thing off, maybe it would focus on him as he was the biggest and baddest idiot on the field. Get rid of him, and it can have a field day with the others, after all, he did survive one of its attacks. But, if it's using dumbfire and shoots everything at a stationary target, that should give him a half minute to run the fuck away.

His leg dropped onto his knee as he slid a few feet and his shield on its side was mounted by his rifle. He aimed, "Oi fucknugget," screamed the angry armored man. "I bet you can't hit me!" he yelled out a shot rang out towards the bioconstruct, aimed at the main body. He shot a second time standing up, hitting his shield against the barrel of his rifle to make noise as he started to walk at a brisk pace towards it.

He noticed someone else was shooting at it from the side, but that did not matter to him. He lifted his shield up in front of him, and put it on the rollers for parts of his running duration. He was not at a good run, and still picking up speed as he went into a sprint, the red hot armor creaking and making enough noise to sound like a pile up on a highway. He took one last peek over his shield, putting his rifle on his back magnetically, and putting both hands on the shield, one on the main magnetic handle, and the left on the grip of his shotgun. He knew his target, and the metal man decided it was best to jump now for maximum potential also so if this didn't go the way he wanted he could pull the shield over him in case of retaliation.

For a moment, he soared before hopefully smashing into this thing's legs to knock it out from under itself, if not just tackle it to the ground. Because when in doubt, don't fuck around and find out with a shipload of pissed off and armed passengers.

Vin was busy cursing under his breath as each nearly hitting projectile passed by. Missing him by mere inches and even though he was invisible. One of these pricks might accidentally hit him at this rate and after another miss that too close for comfort. Vin took cover behind a tree and took a moment to think. Looking behind him to get a look at the battlefield. Vin fist pump as he saw the destruction caused by his teammates. Nice to see their attackers take some punishment. A number of their ambushers down, but still, there were others to deal with.

Then Vin picked up a signal that indicated that they all are being targeted. "Ah, come on," He said annoyingly, as things were turning in their favor after surviving the crash and initial ambush. Now they have to avoid artillery strikes now. These guys really want them dead and gone.

Before Vin could relay this to his teammates, the voice came on again. Only this time, they were clear as day. Telling them that they being targeted by plasma mortars and that they needed to get to the safe zone. Easier said than done when you got a target on your back and have to dodge mortar strikes. Still, they knew where sanctuary was thanks to the mysterious voice who placed a navigational marker on their HUD. Now is the matter of getting there in one piece.

Then as Vin was about to move towards the safe zone, the voice came on again. This time worried about the lingering bioconstruct and ordered to take it out before it could alert anyone. Looking down at his plasma carbine, it would be nice to contribute for a change than to simply be running for a place to regroup. He still had stealth on his side with his cloaking still working. It would be easy to flank the bioconstruct and give his teammates time to properly take the thing down, which sounds to him like a plan, and after giving a good look around, to find the bioconstruct. He slowly made his way to a good flanking spot on the thing's right side, behind a tree, and once he was ready. He fired a volley of plasma at the creature before quickly moving to a new spot. Vin is going to tick this thing off so his teammates can get a shot on this thing and kill it. One less thing to worry about the better.

It felt as if they had been in the jungle for weeks with shit just going from bad to worse. Silver kept up an impressive pace, despite the tangled forest floors best effort to impede him. Behind the cyborg all manner of hell was breaking loose as firebombs carved their way through both man and nature. Silver had no idea if this was to their advantage or not but either way he had to keep moving.

Shots were randomly being sprayed throughout the trees with several heavy duty rifle rounds barely missing Silver. The cyborg felt a tightening in his chest as shook loose a thought for his drone.

“I’ll never get rid of the blasted thing,” he muttered to himself.

He tried, for a moment, to use his ethereal abilities to blink through a particularly thick set of ferns and vines but he was unable to concentrate. Instead he fumbled and tripped, crashing through them and falling into a puddle of mud.

Planetside, he seethed before picking himself up.

Before him, the ocean of trees had begun to part, several small trails could be seen with what looked like a road in the distance. Just then, a message came through from Jerry, Silver assumed that his position wasn’t worth hiding anymore as the signal from this would give him away. Sure enough, it was a notice that everyone, including the cyborg, was being tracked by the Unztadtlige and it would be raining down personalised mortar fire for all.

There was no longer any choice, if Silver wanted to live to see another day, he would have to abandon his team and try to outrun the creatures range. Even then that task seemed near impossible. The cyborg broke into a sprint, charging down one of the trails and hitting the road.

Silver wormed his way through the husks of dead vehicles scattered along the highway. Far ahead he could see that the treeline gave way to a destroyed gate as friendly markers began to appear on his HUD, a thick blob of blue.

That must be the park.

The cyborg's timing was seamless as a message came through, almost as clear as day. Whoever it was had a plan, one that involved jamming the Unztadtlige’s tracking signal. Still he was wary of trusting his own HUD, the voice could just be another enemy, though at least Silver could lead the mortars right to them.

A second message came through, one of the bioconstructs had caught up, the bastard moved devilishly fast. The voice commanded the cyborgs team to take it out of action before it reached the park.

The clearness of the signal gave Silver the confidence to try and reach out to his squad.

“To any friendly’s out there, I can take that walker out by putting a rifle round through that thing's knees. I only need assistance in overloading its shield.”

With that he parked his rifle across the bonnet of a burnt out car, focusing in on the construct as it made its way through the trees and waited for the perfect opportunity to strike.

Outskirts of Kerovnia
Approaching the ruined park
Status: Nominal

Every shot a wound. Not one round lost without drawing synthetic blood. That was the way of the battle-watcher, honed and practised time and again. A matter of picking her targets, as well - her success might not have been the same against the smaller enemies. But the hellhammer was not meant for them, not when they were spread so wide and under cover of the trees and undergrowth. Unless they closed in, she would have to rely on her more precise teammates to pick them off.

Around, behind her, the forest exploded into flame. Zsresrinn could only faintly see the light of the fires refracting off the fog particles, but she heard the blasts and rushing air, smelled the burning wood, flesh and plastic, sensed the vibrations of heated air. Her symbiotic eyes darted off and rose higher into the air to avoid being smothered in the smoke. Terrain denial, that would work too, and the surprise seemed to have dealt quite a blow. The Reclaimer human clearly knew her craft.

Under cover of the unnatural mist, the vrexul broke into a leaping trot towards where the voice of their presumed ally had indicated. The trees were too thick for something as massive as her to gather speed for a full run, but she could yet make her way ahead in bounds on her powerful hind limbs, propelling herself ahead between, and sometimes through the bushes and trunks. Dead, dry wood loudly cracked under her weight as she jumped onto fallen logs and branches, and saplings fell with piteous crunches as she barreled against them. The continuously spreading fog whirled in dizzying patterns of broken light as the electric-bluish bank rolled together with her body like something out of a hallucination, making aiming directly at her an ordeal for anything with eyes despite the racket she was making.

At length, however, the combined strain of keeping a running pace together with constantly exhaling the shielding vapour began to strain even her enhanced tracheal web. The flow slowed to a trickle, then to intermittent whiffs as weariness mounted with every breath, and the fog thinned as she moved, much of it remaining behind her like a slug’s trail. But by now the edge of the woods was already in sight. With a final push, she broke through the treeline, uprooting a weedy brush that had caught on to one of her legs, and landed onto cracked asphalt with a dull thump.

Remaining still for a few moments to recoup her breath and let her symbiotes catch up with her, Zsresrinn glanced around. Signs of exodus, combat. That gateway ahead must have lead into the park, and the voice in her comms, now unbroken by jamming or the mist’s interference, confirmed it, as did the sight of other members of the team approaching. She spotted the shapes of their presumed allies - they seemed well-armed, but it was not clear if they were numerous enough to hold off the enemy. Better not to take any chances, especially not as -

They came again. The bio-construct she had shot was close on their trail, and the voice in her comms grew alarmed. Now that they were in the clear, she could appraise the damage she had dealt to it more clearly. Its weaponry’s danger was reduced, for sure, but that was not the danger if its sensors were good enough to connect with the unztadtlige far behind. It always amused her slightly, the thought that these beings without psychoparasites had to rely on such crudely simulated symbiosis to project their senses.

Already, the others were moving to intercept the automaton or preparing to shoot it down. Answer coordination with coordination.

“Received,” she clicked at the augmented voidhanger. With a short sideways leap, she brought herself to face the construct across a clear space, getting the charging Sergeant out of the line between them. Her mandibles opened, revealing a soft fleshy surface between the plates underneath them, and like a spiny beast rising from the water a sharp and sleek shape broke through its surface, emerging further out from her carapace. Where the spineblaster had been a blocky, plant-like thing, this was more like a smooth, bony ring of half-organic, half-metallic spikes. Red sparks danced on their gleaming surface, converging into thin beams that gathered on the longer central protrusion, focusing into a thick, radiating cone of scorching energy that flared towards the construct. Dispersion was too high at that range to do any real damage, but the strain on its shield should suffice to weaken it enough for the ‘hanger to take the shot.

“Fire-now,” she scraped again. If they were going to avoid taking more fire, that thing needed to be brought down, and fast.