"Well, where's the fun in that?" Gerard snarked as he reluctantly posted himself back up at the truck, casually sipping his beer. He'd temporarily suspending the setup of their camp for the moment. While the use of mist and magic wasn't exactly illegal, it was extremely uncommon amongst the lay-people. Most people that showed any aptitude for mist manipulation were press-ganged into the WARDEN program, or were otherwise State certified- and State monitored individuals. In the cities you might see some handful of folk with the ability to manipulate mist. Out here in the boonies, it was no better than a boogieman's tale. "Tell them to shoot you again, I like that one."

Out of the corner of his eye, Gerard caught the glint of glass. Glancing subtly in the direction, Gerard spotted what must've taken the Marshals so long to come out to play. Up on the town's single combination radio-cell tower, a man had climbed up. Backlit by the sun, it was hard to make out exact details, but Gerard reckoned the man didn't climb up there to drink a beer. In fact, the party favor he brought seemed a little bit like one that had to be held in two hands, and braced on the shoulder.

"Long gun, 2 O'clock high." Gerard murmured into the squad's communication spell, his face never losing its casual, easy grin- like a college kid with too much time and alcohol.

The WARDEN's heard the men long before their faces came into view. For almost all of them it was almost impossible to miss- their training and situational awareness long since drilled into them made them well aware of the crunch of combat boots on gravel from about twenty meters away. Silhouetted in the afternoon light was a fellow in a wide-brimmed hat, but otherwise uniformed like a Rassvet army regular. The uniform was flat khaki rather than camouflage, and on his left breast there were the Rassvet sword and runes, but on a shield.

"Afternoon folks. Just stopped by to check up on you young travelers, make sure alls' well!" came the voice of the lead Marshall, an old, gravelly baritone of a voice with a slight drawl. Well on past his physical prime, the man had a something of a beer gut, and his shoulders had slumped a bit in age. A bushy, more-salt-than-pepper beard covered most of his face, but his eyes held the faint gleam of one a bit faster on the draw than his age might suggest. His hand rested casually on his hip- though no more than an inch away from a holstered handgun. "Heard a bit of a ruckus over at the general'."

“Marshall.” Gerard called back as a way of greeting, ignoring Justice's command to let her do the talking, his voice mimicking the country drawl. “All's well over here. Anything we can do for you?” Gerard's eyes flitted from the badge to the pistol, but took no initiative other than to take another casual sip of his drink.

"Well, there's a war goin' on out there, and orders have it that it's my job to check up on anything unusual. So a bunch of... young folks like you lookin' like you just left the Citadel..." he shrugged, "Well, you know." The man was bold, Gerard gave him that. Deserters were heavily persecuted in Rassvet, but if the Marshall thought they were deserters, he was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid to approach them with such scant backup. Still, the man looked like he could handle his own well enough- maybe not against a cadre of WARDENs, but well enough against whatever this backwood might throw at him.

"Now I hate to interrupt your afternoon, but I'm gonna need to see some papers, alright? Just one'uv ya'll do, don't see the point in runnin' em' all if it checks out." The old timer said rather pleasantly, current circumstances considered, as he held his hand out expectantly. In Rassvet, a police state, citizens were expected to show ID, papers, and endure a check at any given moment. This fellow, out in the boonies by a bit, was at least a little more common sense and friendly in his approach. Around Orestia, these guys acted like they were on the front lines already, and that everyone was a spy. Now that he was a bit closer, the old timer cocked a glance at Justice's tank top, and the WARDEN insignia stenciled across the front.

"Hopefully I'm not offendin' ya'll when I say this, but what's a bunch of WARDEN types doing out here?"

"If you're a big fan of that one, I'll make sure to ask if you can go first." Justice snarked back to Gerard.

As much as she wanted to say something about it, she didn't really care that much about the sniper that had posted himself up on the radio tower. He'd sooner fall off than get a meaningful shot off, especially on herself.

Well, Gerard ignored her command. Thankfully, he didn't make the situation worse meaning that Justice didn't care enough to make it an issue. It was a welcome change from the interactions at the store.

"Tourism." She said plainly. "Just passing through this town."

While entirely the truth, it sounded like a complete lie. Tourism was often slang for special operations. If someone just openly stated that they were a tourist while at war, they were almost definitely up to something for the government.

With a brief flick of her hand, a thin paper folder materialized from her pocket. It was the papers she received when she had graduated. It had everything she needed on them. Most importantly, it stated her active deployment date as not right now. Thankfully, the marshal only needed one set. The thought of dealing with what could have happened to Silje's papers would have given her a conniption. They were probably half burnt and covered in grape soda.

A road trip, huh? The Barghest squad, all together, touring around this hellhole of a police state in a dingy truck, unsupervised, and considering their quirks, most likely also getting into all sorts of shenanigans, perhaps including those severe enough to get one - or all - of them sent to court martial. Hmm... an unwise idea, reckless even, and that was why when Lance and Justice sent the invitation and travel plans, Valerie accepted in a heartbeat. What? Surely these kids wouldn't expect Justice to handle their antics by her lonesome, 'Radar Girl' might be able to not let anything get by her unnoticed, but the 2nd Class was still no one-woman army, especially not when she would be coming too, reading something in the news about a smoking crater where a small town used to be wouldn't a very fun experience.

And besides, this might very well be their first and last road trip together, perhaps a few of them would be lucky enough to survive the war and go on a post-discharge adventure, but assuming all of them would return in one piece? That'd take a statistical miracle.

Fortunately, Valerie didn't need to pack much, allowing her enough time to make a quick visit to the monastery that raised her for the first decade of her life, and after that, onto the old truck she went. The thing looked like it could fall apart at any moment, hopefully no one would be expecting to use her mist-veins on it, thing's far too large, unless of course, they wanted to deal with a Full Burn Nephilim later. Yeah, guess not, huh? The designated driver better be someone who had proper driving etiq-... oh, it's Kalina, eh, at least she's not Silje or Tony. It'd still be a bumpy ride, but they would reach their destination in one piece.

Then, just after the shortest member of the squad climbed into the vehicle, she frowned as a silent groan escaped her throat. Tch... There was it again, the dull ache throbbing at her skull, the ever-so-slightly elevated heartbeat, minor tremors that were barely perceptible yet tangible, and just a little bit of cold sweats. Thank the Mother that her pupils were already (un)naturally narrow enough that any further constriction wouldn't matter. Now that her body had reminded herself of it, Valerie realized that it had been around three - maybe four - nights since she last dealt with this… chronic issue. Looks like it's due, huh? Maybe I can delay it a bit, just a few more hours...

Staving off the initial onset of withdrawal symptoms via breath control, Valerie flashed her comrades a small smile and a slight nod before she claimed a secluded little corner at the far back of the truck, she'd need that little space for the immediate future.



A few hours into the trip, Valerie had managed to use the time to make idle chatter with her squadmates, watching the scenery shifting away from urban landscapes into something more rural, enjoying snacks and beverages, and generally having a swell time with her second family. These were all enough to distract her from the abominable cravings constantly clawing at the back of her mind, whispering tempting words, and bringing her more shame than her disfigured body ever could. Try as she might to hold out as long as possible, it always ended the same way, the monster would eventually win the war of attrition.

Haaa... The moment that she could feel her chest tightening and her vision blurring out was when Valerie decided to throw the towel, fine, you win. She excused herself from the others, returned to her little corner, then flicked her hand, accessing her Mist Pocket to procure one of those damned hypodermic injectors. She stared at the small tube for a few seconds, "AR-Hypo", the label said, "CAUTION: RISK OF OVERDOSE AND ADDICTION. USE ONLY AS PRESCRIBED" said the other label. Yeah, no shit... At least they were telling the truth, she could definitely attest to that.

Flexing the fingers of her left hand, Valerie removed the injector's cover and safety cap, then - with her trembling right hand - jammed the sharp end of the thing into the inside of her left elbow. Gah-...!

A brief sting, and then, ... bliss, nothing but sweet, sweet bliss.

As the tranquilizer flowed through her veins, Valerie just had enough window to store the now-empty tube back into her astral pocket before she settled herself on her seat, leaning against the side of the truck, then just relaxed...

Out of the corner of her ears, she heard something... something about an imperial princess...? Peace talks...? Peace... yeah, that'd be nice...

A moment later, the full effects of the drug induced her into a deep coma-like slumber, nothing would awaken her for the next few hours; neither the pothole bumps, radio, idle chatter, nor landsurfing bullsharks, not even Silje's can-bomb prank. Right now, the shorter 2nd Class of the group might as well be considered KIA, at least temporarily. Fortunately for her though, everyone in the squad had already been informed of this chronic condition of hers so they should just leave her alone, respect her boundaries and simply pretend that she didn't exist would be most preferred.
..........
.....
...



... By the time Valerie came to, the truck had already parked at the former prospector town of Sapple Springs, nowadays, it was nothing but a ghost town, abandoned by all but the most loyal - or foolhardy - residents. "Nnngh..." The petite WARDEN got up with a stretch, popping and cracking joints like a senior who had sat down for too long, the sleep was nice, but she could never quite appreciate it, especially knowing why she did it in the first place. Regardless, now that this shit was over with, she should be good for the next half a week. I wonder if everyone have disembarked...?

Valerie got off the truck to find Justice and Gerard talking with a pair of local law enforcers. Wonder what was it about? Inspection? Seemed like their little group stuck out like a sore thumb in a town like this, huh? Well, couldn't fault the marshall for trying to do his job. Still not having the full picture of the situation, including the '60 Gils guffaw’ that started the whole thing, the horned WARDEN nonchalantly disembarked and walked over to the convenience store, or at least, the equivalent of one out here in the boonies.

...? It was then she noticed the... palpable tension hanging in the air, it wouldn't take a Justice Radar to notice the civilians and some of the Barghests being on edge, then there was Silje being Silje, but she was the exception that prove the rule. "Sigh... what did you guys do again? Geez... why can't we all just get along, live and let live, is that so hard?" Valerie murmured with a groan, had she knew, she would've taken her dose far earlier in the trip, Fuck me for trying to be less of a hopeless addict, am I right?

With a low exasperated growl, the four-foot-something young woman who didn't even manage to match Silje's height, nor stature, simply proceeded to browse what goods were available in the store, heedless of any stares directed her way. She was wearing a simple set of white shirt and blue denim shorts, but even the most common apparel couldn't offset her purple-veined black "horns" and - to a lesser degree - her snake-like pupils, nothing she could do about those unfortunately. Valerie would pick a single bottle of beer then return to the register, gently plopping the thing down as she faced the nervous cashier, "How much? And no, I'm not underaged, yes, I can give you my ID if you'd like." She declared with the step-by-step methodical eloquence of a salesperson on their one hundredth pitch of the day.

---

In the very back of the truck, tucked away in a corner like a rock, slept a man who could move mountains and hold up the sky. During most of the trip, from the time they left home, he had been out cold in spite of all the commotion his comrades had made. The explosions, the beer being flung out of the windows, the radio, even Silje being Silje could not wake the slumbering giant known as Morden Garrus. He was detached from the world as he knew it, asleep like a century old corpse. The rickety, beaten-up truck would fall apart at last before he woke up. At least, it would have until something finally stirred the man up from his rest against all conceivable odds. The constant hum of the truck riding down a worn road had lulled him into slumber, but now, every little sound put him on high alert, meaning his was up on his feet the moment his eyes opened. Like a machine, Morden was ready to do... Whatever he was doing on vacation. In one swift motion, he rolled out of his seat and into the warm, dry air of Sapple Springs. Dressed in nothing more than a red tank top, exercise pants and old casual shoes, he looked around.

This place... Was a ghost town. Why did they stop here? And where was everyone?

He swayed his neck left and right, eliciting a deep crack or two and listened to the wind. Sapple Springs was clearly a sleepy place, with damn near nothing happening. Morden looked into the sky and saw the sun was notable lower than when he fell asleep, so they had clearly been driving for a while... There they are.

He heard the voices Gerard and someone else, and followed until he met up with them, walking up behind his comrades in full view of an authority figure.

"Hopefully I'm not offendin' ya'll when I say this, but what's a bunch of WARDEN types doing out here?"

"We're on a road trip," Morden cut in with an imposing voice, heavy with iron yet smooth as a deep river. "Before we officially join the fight. What did you do, this soon after we stopped, Gerard?"

Kalina spotted the sniper just as Gerard pointed him out. It wasn't really a surprise someone in this podunk hick town had a scoped rifle of some kind. Probably a hunting rifle, if she could hazard a guess. Woefully unprepared in case anything of actual import happened here, but judging by how sleepy it all was, well, a platoon of Imperials could run this town over in a minute and it wouldn't even be a challenge. Hell, the Barghests could probably do the same.

Regardless, Kalina kept an eye on the marshal and how close his hand was to his sidearm. A brief hum of something resembling approval. At the very least, this one knew what he was doing. She didn't doubt that if they did try to start something, he'd have that pistol drawn and sighted fast enough to satisfy even a WARDEN instructor. He was still just one man, though. The old goat had to realize, even with sniper backup, he'd be screwed if the people in front of him were even close to who they said they were if things went bad. She respected that he was still out here, regardless.

Justice was taking care of talking and paperwork, and it seemed their last two members both decided to finally wake up from their long naps. Kalina afforded Valerie and Morden a brief nod as they passed her, staying leaned against the truck where she was. Though she couldn't help but call out to the horned girl as she passed.

"We've still got beers in the cooler, you know. No reason to spend more money just yet." Whether or not she listened, it didn't really matter. With that said, she turned back towards Justice and the marshal, a question burning in the back of her mind.

"All due respect, officer, you've got at least a good few people of fighting age in town, and we're still at war. Recruiters not come through this way yet?"

"It wasn't me this time." Galahad insisted as Morden hopped out of the back of the truck, Val not far behind him. The truck itself lifted considerably, now that Morden's weight was no longer dragging it down to earth. The two took stock of the current situation, finding it better to hurl comments from a slight distance away rather than be right up next to Justice as she handed the old Marshall her papers. "I don't think they like us much." Gerard commented idly, leaning towards the larger man with a faux conspiratorial glance. "And here I thought people had respect for the military."

Gerard watched with an amused glance as Val more or less returned to the proverbial scene of the crime, apparently unaware of what had just happened. Not that any of them made any moves to explain that to her- At least for Gerard's part, he was rather curious if things would spiral even more out of control. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately depending on the person, no more shenanigans were to happen, at least for the moment. The cashier, already sheet white and didn't offer much in the terms of words "F-four Gil."

"Tourism... Uh huh..." the old timer grunted as he flipped through the folder of papers Justice provided to him. He didn't necessarily seem convinced, but at the very least, his hand left its proximity to his pistol when his eyes confirmed that he had not just run up on a squad of AWOL WARDENs. He glanced up briefly when Kalina cut in with a bit of a snort. "Oh they've certainly been through- up and passed on by without much a care. Don't think Rupert and his fellas were too keen on chasing after them. 'Sides, any more people leave, and we won't be much of a town anymore."

"Well, looks like everything checks out. Sorry for the hold up, not a lot of us 'round these parts, so we gotta be bit cautious when folk start throwing magic around." the old marshall finally concluded after a few minutes of pouring over documents, handing them back to Justice as he waved off the backup on the water tower. "Safe to assume ya'll be passing us by come the morn? Careful on your way up north, bullet sharks been tearin' up the ground by the 'forest."

---

---

Initial troubles aside, eventually the WARDENs were left to their own business, now free of encroaching Marshalls.

The Cloudgazer, witnessing its first bit of business in weeks- if not months probably, opened up most of the floor for them- a quartet of two bed flats, all next door to each other, though the Barghest squad had set up most of their kit in the empty parking lot, with a small portable etherium-powered fire pit, a gas grill and a collection of collapsible stools, beer cases of varying fullness, and procured cushions for seating areas. The truck sat nearby, corralling the flickering light, doors open and engine idling as music spilled out of the radio inside and over their makeshift camp. The faint smell of charcoal and lighter fluid mixed with the savory smells of meat as food roasted on the grill, and the golden afternoon sun had given way to the blue and purple of the evening sky and a cool, early autumn breeze that wasn't quite biting but just enough to warrant a jacket or sweater.

"I'm telling you- they were so fucking mad!" Gerard laughed, firelight reflecting off his glasses as he sat around the pit, in the midst of retelling a story from one of their training days. He took another swig of his beer before continuing. "Not because Morden busted through the bunker wall, but because he busted through the walls of both the team locker rooms and the instructor's observation post on his way there. Shoulda seen the look on their faces- Its miracle we weren't disqualified."

Pushing himself up to his feet, Gerard crunched the can in his hands and launched the resulting disk across the parking lot, the bit of tin clattering against the side of a trash bin, along with another some half-dozen crushed cans from earlier that night. He blinked in surprise for a moment- not entirely sure why as he felt something akin to a chill run over him. A split second later the truck and etherium fire pit shut off before flickering back to life a moment later. Lights in the motel and around in the town flickered off and on again in a strange wave before stabilizing.

Gerard was about to make a snarky remark about how broken down the town was before he saw it- before they all saw it. Nearly impossible for anyone to miss, as out of a thick layer of cloud above them fell a massive fireball. The members of Barghast squad could clearly see that it was not a magical fireball or meteor, but rather an airship falling out of the sky. The airship was huge- bigger than any Rassvet warship. The colors of the ship were hard to make out- its flag scorched and unrecognizable as everything around it was painted orange and grey by trailing fire and smoke, but it certainly seemed like a civilian liner rather than a warship, if its smooth shapes and angles, and large, probably formerly white balloon was any indication. That being said, it was rather hard to see the entire silhouette of the ship, its back half was all but missing and its sides appeared to have been peppered with holes- likely of the cannon variety- and its belly belched fire and smoke.

Passing overhead, Gerard craned his neck as he watched the massive airship continue its fiery arc across the sky, pieces of wreckage, debris, and even a few parachutes and what appeared to be escape pods broke away from it. In the relative silence of the still night, even from a far distance they could hear the echoing screams of people as they burned alive or fell off the ship- or both. The airship was rapidly losing altitude and continued to shed large chunks of itself before it smashed into the petrified badlands some dozen miles from them.

They could still see the glow of the fire and smoke from behind the craggy rocks and stone features- which glowed brighter for a moment before the ground rumbled and a explosion erupted from the location of the wreckage, the ground beneath Sapple Springs rumbling as the ship’s Mist Reactor went critical and failed.

“That didn't look like one of ours.” Gerard murmured as he pulled out his phone, his brow furrowing as he noticed that there was no signal- not even emergency lines. The radiating mist from the explosion was probably fucking with their signal- that, or something particularly sinister was afoot. "Think I saw a pod or two deploy parachutes before they got too low."

Considering her palpable anxiety, perhaps the cashier could take some form of solace knowing that between the two WARDENs who had just made themselves known, only the shorter and more youthful-looking of the two entered the corner store instead of the six-foot-something hulking mass of muscle. The former had eerie horns covered in dimly glowing purple veins sure, but they still couldn't outweigh the sheer intimidation Morden exuded just by standing there menacingly, even if the young man didn't mean it. As such, even after everything that happened, she could just stammer out the price of a singular bottle of beer.

No, I bet they have as much respect for the military as any layperson, but someone was obnoxious enough to offset that respect... Valerie mentally snapped back at Gerard's sardonic quip, was it him? Silje? Kalina? Or, hell, any combination of these fuckers? The vanguard WARDEN didn't know for sure yet, but the end result spoke for itself. She ignored Kalina's cluelessly blunt inquiry for the moment and instead fished out ten gils from her own pocket, putting it on the cashier's table, "Keep the change, for your trouble." before grabbing the thing by its neck, making sure to mind her deceptively powerful grip from crushing it into a million shards.

Honestly, she didn't even actually need the beer, but eh, it was the best excuse she could immediately think of, speaking of excuses, "I was just trying to find a socially-acceptable reason to come in here and strike a civil conversation." The white-haired girl murmured to her taller counterpart as she passed the pilot WARDEN, a brief yet keen glance at Kalina's face revealed only one thing, ...that she still didn't quite 'get it', Between Silje, Kalina, and myself, maybe that myth about white-haired people tending to have some screws loose has some truth in it after all... Patience, that was the key to handling the socially-inept. Hey, let it never be said that growing up with Silje didn't have its own perks. "Because I'm trying to minimize the chances of us being sent to court-martial by the end of the week, something that you guys were keen on doing from the looks of things." Valerie deigned the pilot a second try before leaving the store proper.

Other than unsealing the bottle cap - with nothing but her fingers - Valerie watched in silence as Justice cordially handled things with the officer of the law, and despite Kalina's unnecessary question, the marshall was a sensible enough veteran to control his trigger finger and even humor the golden-eyed pilot, Guess there's a good reason why he's the marshall. He then finished his inspection, returned the papers to the squad leader, then left them with an advice... and a clue as to who was the primary instigator of the incident.

Throwing magic around... haaaaa... The daughter of Birgis, of course.
..........
.....
...

Hours after the sun had abdicated its reign to the moon and her stellar attendants, Valerie was amongst the WARDENs within the vicinity of the etherium campfire. In fact, she was the one currently manning the BBQ grill, being in her element as the 'designated caretaker' of the squad, or "group mom" as some would tease her, and honestly, that was true in some way. Between her life in the nunnery, the Citadel, and now, she always had someone to take care of. Though she genuinely cared for each and every individual in her charge, it was also true that there was some spite involved, show her worthless biological parents just what it meant to be a proper one.

Valerie continued listening to Gerard's story about one of Morden's antics even as she deftly cycled between moving cooked meat to a platter and putting new raw ones onto the grill, she was no culinary master, but she knew what she was doing. ...? Then, a deep frown curled at her brows, sharpening her already naturally-sharp gaze even further. Before anyone had said anything, Valerie shifted her focus from the grill up toward the sky. It wouldn't take a pilot like Kalina to recognize that it was no meteor, however, it would take a pilot to analyze the exact details of the airship, "Kalina," Valerie raised her voice as she put down the BBQ tweezers and turned off the grill, "Type, model, and if possible, allegiance?"

While waiting for Kalina's assessment, Valerie went over to grab her WARDEN jacket, putting on over her white shirt, "If they're Rassvetian, then it's our duty to rescue any survivors, if they're imperials, it's also our duty to apprehend them." If they're - somehow - from some other nation? Well, similar sentiments as the former, "I'm going," the Nephilim announced, her tone making it clear that it'd take a direct order from Justice to force her to stay put, "Who's with me?"

@vietmyke @Psyker Landshark @Blizz @OwO

Court-martialed? For what? Kalina just raised an eyebrow at Valerie explained herself. The civilians were being useless. If any military tribunal actually took their side over active combatants in a time of war, then Rassvet almost deserved to lose. Before she could vocalize that, however, the marshal deigned to answer her question.

Another bit of incomprehensible nonsense. The recruiters evidently weren't being quite aggressive enough in this backcountry hole. Forget the effect on the town, if they didn't enlist every healthy youth of age, there wouldn't be a nation left at the rate the war had been going by all accounts. She'd seen enough territories collapse in her childhood to know as much. Preserving the future was all well and good if you had a hope of winning. Reality was a different story, as evidenced by the ever-growing Vangar borders on the map. Better to have a ruined land to call home at the end of everything than to have none at all.

For now, she just let the marshal walk away. There were other things to consider. Like dinner.

___

"Mhm. Sure." Kalina nodded along politely to Gerard's story, more interested in scarfing down her barbecue pork than whatever he was recalling that everyone in the squad had already been present for. Thankfully, Valerie knew what she was doing on the grill. Good enough to go for seconds, really.

She was in the midst of reaching for more meat when the sky lit up. Even before Valerie said anything, Kalina was already cycling through the airship models she knew in her head to try to pin down what it was. Unfortunately...

"Not an in-service military airship, on either side." She responded, quickly snapping up a piece of grilled chicken with her fingers and chomping down. No sense in wasting food if they were about to move out. "It's either a civilian liner or a prototype, but the profile looks closer to civilian designs."

She stood, nodding along with their sub-leader's assessment.

"Ready. Don't need to tell me twice to do my job." Active service was all she'd ever wanted for as long as she'd been old enough to understand the concept. Really, it beat putzing around the country for a few weeks.

Thankfully, the matter with the marshal ended simply. Of course, when Morden opened his gob in front of the marshal, the air became palpable. Justice had slowly turned to face him, eyes filled with annoyance and a vein nearly bursting from her head.

Justice ate slowly. Peculiarly slowly, in fact. She didn't listen to Gerard's story, either. Not like she needed to; she was there. She had a bad feeling. Of course, she couldn't figure out what it was. It was a creeping sensation on her skin; a distant wind that carried ill omens.

Then the wave came. Like an ocean of disaster washing over her. She shot up to her feet, fists clenched as it came. Something was definitely wrong.

Such feelings of mystery were quickly lost when fire lights and smoke plumes blotted out the stars above. Screams permeated the air. It was the end of their relaxation.

The earth shook as the airship crashed down and shook once more as its engine erupted.

Kalina's observation gave Justice pause. There was no reason for a non-military ship to be crossing over here. Airspaces were heavily restricted. The only thing that came to her mind was the broadcast. They really were going to get in over their head with this, weren't they?

"Some midnight peace," Justice commented. "If that princess is on that ship, I'm going to explode."

And Val was right. As much as Justice wanted to simply ignore the troublesome prospect of a crashed airship--especially on this date, they still had their duties as WARDENs. Plus, it wasn't like the itinerary was a must-experience trip. They could cut the last leg of their journey and have the same experience, really.

"Fire up the truck. We're going to check it out."

"Even on vacation we can never catch a break, huh?" Gerard chuckled as the squad quickly began tearing down their camp and loading into the truck. Tearing down the camp consisted of Gerard haphazardly throwing any and everything into the back of the truck with waves of telekinesis, pausing only to turn off the grill and fire pit before those too were unceremoniously tossed into the back of the truck. As soon as the back of the truck was clear of flying debris, the squad tumbled in. Kali and Justice climbed into the front seat, while Silje clambered on top of Morden. The rest of them made due with the back of the truck. All in all, they'd cleared up and packed in about 3 minutes. A minute later they were on- or rather off the road and headed in the direction of the crash. "Haven't even been deployed and we're on our first op already. Cell services looks like its shot- if we don’t go help them, I don’t think survivor's will make it long enough for any rescue services. Hell, the only other people who saw the crash is probably Sapple Springs, and they don’t exactly look like they have the manpower for- well, anything."

They called it the Petrified Forest National Preserve. Long before there was a Rassvet or a Vangar, this whole section of the badlands was a beautiful forest. Colossal trees bigger than any skyscraper, huge grazing beasts, and other wonders all growing huge on the Mist. After a time, the waters that once fed the area stopped coming, the ground grew dry and cracked, and things faded away. The only left were facsimiles: minerals and stone that took the shape of once living things. The squad snaked through this landscape of hills and bends. Navigating around the occasional petrified trunk of a tree that lay as if discarded by some giant after being used a toothpick. The Barghest squad arrived at the crash- or one part of the crash anyway- the truck coming to a stop upon the lip of a huge crater and staring down upon the crashed leviathan. The wrecked airship had smashed its nose into the ground like a spear from the heavens, scattering across miles of wreckage. A twisted altar composed of flame and warped metal that lit up the night around it, the long claw mark of the crashed ship large enough to fit the entirety of Sapple Springs within. Heat from fire and mist radiated from all around them and could be felt from the edge.

"Mist is going crazy here." Gerard grunted with a pained wince as he climbed out of the back of the truck, swiping his hands and conjuring a pair of heavy gauntlets that slammed into the ground next to him. Even those that weren’t as magically attuned as Silje or Val could feel it. An otherworldly and oppressive hum that seemed to encase the entire area and made his hair stand on end. It felt almost as if they were swimming on land, the very air itself was thick and lethargic with unseen heft. Ahead of them small flames burst into roaring pillars of fire as they interacted with the mist. In other small areas pieces of debris remained suspended in air as if gravity itself had turned off. In other areas still, small desert flowers bloomed and died within an instant as time sped up around them. There was an old adage about mist reactors: when they broke, reality had a habit of breaking with them. Pieces of metal lay scattered across the ground like warped and distorted bones. There was half a chair here, the broken head of a statue there, and the remnants of a bed and so on. It all seemed far too ornate for any kind of military involvement reminding Gerard more of the estates in Orestia than anything else.

Then of course there were the bodies.

Most were charred beyond recognition but some weren't. Gerard knelt down in front of one of the bodies that had been thrown to the lip of the crater, using his foot to turn the man over. A man maybe in his mid-late thirties, dark hair cut in military fashion, stubble across the jaw. It was the burnt remains of his uniform that drew Gerard’s attention the most. It was a uniform that he and the rest of the Barghest squad had been studying for years: A Vangar officer's uniform.

"Well that's fucking great." Gerard grunted as he gestured to the body. "Vangar Honorguard uniforms. If that doesn't scream diplomatic envoy I don't know what does."

"So much for peace talks, huh?" Gerard remarked dryly, "That being said, I don't recall there being any significant-or any SAM emplacements around Sapple Springs."

---

Something stirred in Morden when he saw the Vangar ship crash. Something that allowed him to tolerate Silje clambering onto him like a horse. What lay before them was allegedly a civilian airliner piloted by Vangar. Morden absorbed the mist to keep pace with the truck on the off-road path, with Silje stuck on top of him. He just barely moved faster than it, able to move just ahead until they were all at the scene. It was a barren, dedicated crater of dust and rock with nothing to offer for anyone but the occasional vulture. If anything, the downed airship did it a favor. From the smoke and twisted wreckage, Morden could see thin trails of mist fuming out. To him, the astral mist was a red energy that diffused into the atmosphere like oxygen, waiting to be breathed in. The tractor of the ship had been compromised.

The mist is leaking from the reactor. That is what you are noticing, Gerard, he warned, silently. Mind your magic use, all of you.

As Gerard managed to deduce, the Vangar Honorguard lie dead as well. What kind of civilian airliner held troops like that?

Diplomatic? No, Vangar does not negotiate. I do not like this, I’m going on ahead. If anyone is alive, they won’t be able to kill me. Morden dropped Silje off of his shoulders and breathed in more mist, for good measure. His skin began to crackle with red energy, his limbs thickened as his muscles grew denser. He felt power surge through him, and now he was confident enough to enter a fight.

The rush never got old.

Everyone, stay together. There is no telling what could be attracted by the etherium.

With that, Morden turned and stormed off into No Man’s Land.

A trail of iron and steal surrounded him, burning bodies and withered flesh filled the air, but Morden blitzed past everything. His steps were light, without proper Vanguard plate armor, and all the destruction could not phase him. Morden stopped to survey the bodies along the massive scar cut into the land. By all accounts, this landing was relatively soft, it wouldn’t be impossible for a decent amount of them to survive. Most of the ship itself seemed to have torn away in massive chunks, leaving behind pile upon pile of scrap like a trail of breadcrumbs.

There was definitely no saving the vessel, that became apparent as Morden neared the remaining half of the ship. The stern seemed to have been lost in the initial explosion, but what could possibly do that much damage to a ship out here? While in flight?

Barghest, I am at the center of the crash. No survivors yet, and most of the vessel is missing from the destruction. The path is safe, you are clear to-

CLANG!

A huge metal hunk of something fell out of a large pile of wreckage. Stepping forward, Morden saw what looked like the beaten and battered remains of some strange bipedal robot. A large, hulking 8 foot tall machine forged of some sort of dark blue metal alloy he'd never seen before, its head set deep between its shoulders and layers of heavy armor, and a cannon the size of a 40mm grenade launcher attached to its arm. Was it one of the Vangar's new toys? They loved their powered armor- but this machine had sustained large amounts of damage. Across its torso were impact marks, scorches and dents from bullets, blades and spells scoring or ricocheting across its armor. Its left arm was missing and in its place was a tangle of wires and cords in patterns that didn't match typical Vangar synthetic muscle and stuck between its shoulder plates was what looked like the blade of a Vangar power-lance.

Contact! ENGAGING!

He didn’t give the thing time to use that weapon before charging it. Morden dropped low and sprung up to give it a quick haymaker straight to its center mass.

Morden was rewarded for his troubles with a stinging jolt of pain up his hand and wrist, and a dent in the armor. The robot didn’t even react. The fact that it could survive that meant this wasn’t ordinary material.

Vangar never sent machines into battle. Robots were their logistics workhorses, not their soldiers. AI wasn’t sophisticated enough for Vangar’s standards, it was simply not fit for the battlefield, and they shipped them with weapons onto a “civilian” airliner…

It had to be dead, given the damage. But the fact that it was here at all was a grave omen.

Barghest- We have a problem. It’s a dead robot. Not power armor, not an armored foot soldier, a robot. This isn’t a civilian airliner, this robot in front of me is eight feel tall, and armed with a cannon. Vangar doesn’t use machines to fight wars…

This did not bode well. How many of these things were still functioning?

…I barely damaged it. There could be more of these still in working order. Holding this position for now.

"I see..." So if Kalina's assessment was trustworthy - and it was - then that meant they had civilian survivors to rescue, assuming there'd be any. How unfortunate, a military vessel would've been preferable; technology, intel, and key personnel to capture, these were much less likely to be found in a civilian vessel. "..." or they could stumble upon a golden goose if Justice's hypothesis was to be entertained, "Heh... a royal entourage's airliner malfunctioning then crashing in the middle of nowhere, but just so happen that a squad of WARDENs were nearby, yeah, that much contrivance is something worth exploding over."

Well, the time for talk was over, those survivors weren't going to rescue themselves, time to hop into the truck... or Morden in Silje’s case, "Just don't run too far ahead of us, yeah? A civilian airliner it may be, we still have no confirmation what's out there." It might be a tad bit obvious, but it was her job to point out obvious things, especially when life and death were the stakes. Fortunately, Gerard's telekinetic prowess meant they didn't need to leave things behind in fear of wasting too much time packing.
..........
.....
...


It was a rough ride through the unbeaten path, though Sapple Springs was in the middle of nowhere, it was still a nexus of civilization, here, the Earthmother had full reign. It could even be said that Silje had an easier time riding their resident bruiser than the tough and tumble of old tires against dry, cracked uneven ground. Such a shame... The Nephilim had heard that the so-called forest was a lush jungle populated by trees and beasts capable of outsizing most of mankind's creations, an unthinkable notion considering its current barren state. At least, that airship couldn't have taken more lives than what it was already carrying...

Speaking of airships, it appeared they had finally arrived...

As a vista straight out of the deepest reaches of purgatory laid bare before their very eyes...

"..." For a passing moment, Valerie wanted to jab at Gerard's painfully obvious statement, but within mere seconds of disembarking from the truck, she decided against it... for even within the context of them being WARDENs, the telekinetic socialite still had a point. "Tch..." The area was so chock full of mist, even a completely untrained layman could feel its presence here.

For someone as mistly-attuned as herself? It felt like being submerged in a liquefied mist as each and every inch of her body reacted to the supernatural phenomenon; her eyes opened wider, her breaths grew longer and heavier, and her skin felt like they had something crawling on-... no. in them. ... Raising her hands, the horned WARDEN saw her veins started dimly glowing purple, in a similar manner as when she started using her powers, only this time, she did no such thing. She didn't have a mirror nearby, but Valerie was positive her face and the rest of her body were exhibiting the same quirk too. Nevertheless, it was ultimately harmless, just her mist-altered test subject of a body reacting to the heavy concentratio.

Moving on, Valerie focused her attention on surveying the area properly, "Squad, be advised, adding to what Morden said, visually-invisible pockets of potent mist are scattered in the area. Mind your step and your spells, this is a veritable minefield, any stray spell of destructive nature can and will set things off." Obvious? She didn't give a fuck, mainly due to Silje being here, "So if you don't want this crater to become a bigger crater, taking us and any possible survivors with it, refrain from casting any volatile spells."

However, despite the towers of roaring flames, time dilated flowers, and malfunctioning gravity, the most stupefying thing of them all was none of the (un)natural phenomenons, instead the identity of a crewmember, made apparent when Gerard flipped one over, one that was fortunate enough to not be charred into an unrecognizable mess. "..." Valerie frowned, deep, she knew that the ship could be Vangarian, but if that's the case, she certainly wasn't expecting it to be a civilian model, let alone hosting royalty. "Don't tell me..." Before she fell into her drug-fueled coma back in the truck, the radio did mention something about an imperial princess assigned as a diplomat for truce negotiations.

The very first thing that came to her mind was deliberate self-sabotage, "Seems like your wild theories regarding the princess being used as a sacrificial pawn to rally war support isn't so far-fetched after all..." Knowing those goddamned imperial scum, this wouldn't even amongst the worst of their atrocities, "Doesn't matter if you're royalty, in the end, pawns are pawns."

Feeling herself quite riled up, the anger at least provided a distraction from the choking mist, the white-haired WARDEN nodded at the largest of the Barghests, "Affirmative, Morden, nonetheless, stay sharp." Expecting yourself to be invincible was exactly how plenty of soldiers got killed. For the moment, Valerie just watched as the bruiser hulked out even more before stampeding deeper into the crash site.

Considering how swift he was, it didn't strike her as odd that he'd reach the center of the site in a jiffy, the path was safe, he said... at least until he made contact with an unidentified entity. As soon as Morden raised his voice, Valerie was already accessing her mist pocket, reached her hand inside, then pulled out a weapon, the weapon; a gun bearing the shape of a heavy machine gun a good seven inches longer than she was tall. It appeared to be dormant at first, but as soon as Valerie held it with both hands, the glowing veins from her body spread outward to cover the gun itself, only then it hummed to life as parts of it began emitting a neon glow of the same indigo hue. At the same time, a halo of black thorns and a pair of infernal wings projected from Valerie's body; ethereal metaphysical manifestations of her mist power, bearing the image of a demonic angel, a Nephilim.

"Haa..." The 2nd Class was ready for combat, even after Morden confirmed that the robot was already destroyed, the fact remained that weaponized machines were on-board the airship, "I won't be surprised if those were used by the imperials to assassinate their own princess, and the public won't suspect them of foul play because "Vangar would never use automatons as weapons"..." Goddamn glorified mass murderers. "Affirmative, Morden, we'll join you promptly. Provided Justice doesn’t explode on us."

With a nod to the rest of the squad, Valerie jumped off the lip of the crater, her non-functional wings spread as if heralding the Nephilim's descent to hell itself.

@vietmyke @Psyker Landshark @Blizz @OwO @Yankee

Would that they didn't have a job to do. For some reason, Kalina found the sight of the Petrified Forest fascinating, especially when the crash was adding a good deal of flame and ruin to the whole picture. There was probably something profound to say about it, but there also wasn't any time for that when she was on duty.

While Morden and Valerie started investigating the area, Kalina took the same track as Gerard and began checking the bodies scattered around the area. She searched through two. A half dozen. A dozen. The results were...strange.

The majority died of obvious causes: burns or trauma indicative of the airship crash. But no small few were full of bullet holes, of all things. A boarding attempt would explain why the airship suddenly went down over Rassvet airspace. Or, judging from the fact that most of the uniforms were similar, a mutiny. How curious. She wasn't going to complain about Vangar soldiers killing each other, though. If only they all did.

A hacking cough from deeper in the wreckage drew Kalina's attention, and she rushed towards the source of the sound, her gunblade materializing in one hand. By the time she cleared the wreckage, she'd found the cause:

This old veteran looked like he was barely holding on, his left leg looked burnt to all hell, and a trio of smoldering holes in his chest suggested he was shot by something closer to a lightning bolt than a bullet. His sternum raised slightly and elicited a rough wheeze as the Kali approached. As Kali checked his pulse, the eyes shot open- a glowing grey; the telltale insignia of a Vangar Royal Knight- that or overexposure to the Mist. The man jerked forward, his arm suddenly grabbing at Kali with a vice grip stronger than steel.

“The Princess..!” He wheezed, his eyes darting back and forth for a moment, almost as if they were seeing through the woman, searching for something, before they rolled back in his skull. The grip released and the man collapsed in Kali’s grasp, his last breaths weak and haggard.

Kalina frowned as the old man gave his last words, rising and turning away from him without any more care for the fresh corpse. Justice was right, then. This was the ship that princess from the news was on. Kalina might not have truly cared about the political mess this was, but she knew enough that it would draw undue attention to Barghest Squad for finding this in the first place. In other words, a headache waiting to happen.

She regrouped with the others, her weapon still in hand.

"No survivors. Most of them died from the crash, but there were bullet holes in a few. Boarding attempt or mutiny, probably the latter." Kalina reported crisply.

"One of them was still breathing when I found him. Old. Might've been a Royal Knight, judging from the eyes. Cause of death looked like magic, and he muttered something about a princess before he expired. Looks like you were right on the money about the princess, Boss." She nodded to Justice, seeming completely unaffected by the sight of a man dying in front of her eyes. Or over any of the corpses, really.

The crash was sickening. Approaching it only made the sensations worse. Like hundreds of little needles gliding across her skin, she felt the pockets of mist wax and wane. The soft tarp did little to block the flow of mist. Really, if she didn't some level of duty, she would have simply notified the military and left it up to them. Unfortunately for her, she was the military. She needed--or at least told herself--that she had to investigate. Well, at least she could take solace in the fact that Silje would have the time of her life in the middle of the reactor-based fiesta. Though, it was hardly comforting.

She left the truck alongside everyone else. The corpses were bad news. Of course, for a different reason than the most obvious one. She didn't need Gerard to identify them, though his confirmation at least made it hard for her to deny it. She could feel the presence of mist coming from the bodies. Whether they were alive or mere vestiges was something she couldn't confirm.

"Sabo's more likely." She responded to Gerard. "Whether it was us, them, or some third party? Who knows."

Morden ran off with Silje. Well, he was probably looking for a fight under the guise of searching for survivors. Fights often found him, as was nature for someone built like a brick wall. Not that Justice really cared. A long leash meant that she didn't have to micromanage. As long as he didn't run into a pocket of mist and go through a flower's lifespan in a moment, he'd probably be fine.

Of course, Val didn't need to point of Justice's newfound ability to manifest situations. Though, she did shoot Val a glare when her theory was called wild.

"Sometimes I wish I was more like you lot." Justice said with a sigh. "You know--wrong about things."

It also didn't help that one of the honorguard wasn't actually dead. Justice watched as Kalina approached one of them men deeper in the wreckage. Of course, that also meant that she watch someone who should have been a corpse grasp her like some sort of undead. Silently, she was hoping--silently manifesting--that he'd confirm the opposite of what they were thinking.

When Kalina returned and gave the news, Justice could only give a frown. It was every ounce of confirmation that she didn't want. Unfortunately, Justice's powers of foresight and manifestation only worked against her. She held her head in her hands and did her best to not immediately explode.

Still, she wasn't about to be an awful leader. "Thanks for checking," she told Kalina.

Of course, Morden's warning came. There were automatons. It was certainly new. An ill omen of the future of combat? Maybe the theory of a third party wasn't just a throwaway joke. Still, Justice couldn't dwell on it. No point in speculating a sprout when you were dealing with a forest. Though, perhaps she should have used sand and rocks in her analogy instead.

"I'm going to check if we have to deliver a princess-sized casket." She announced to the remaining Barghests. "Lord knows we let the kitten and hound find a sparrow. Regroup with them. Val, you have command until I return."

Manifesting a breaching hammer from her pocket thanks to Morden's warning, she dashed away to look for survivors. She carefully avoided the pockets of mist. They were really sickening, especially this close. It wasn't enough that they aggrieved her skin. They also blocked her from sensing anything behind them. It was like traversing a field filled with obelisks. She could only feel what was behind them as she moved past them.

That's when it hit her. A massive presence. It was far greater than Silje's. No, it burnt her skin.

There's someone or something with a massive signature at me, she communicated to the group. I'm going to check it out.

She approached it in a sprinting caution. Whether it was something she had to save or something she had to fight was a mystery.

"Well, here's to hoping it wasn't us." Gerard drawled, nodding as Kalina returned with her own report. "Shooting the messenger isn't a great start for peace talks. Besides, I'd like to think we'd do a cleaner job of it."

"Don't wanna take anyone with you? Promise I won't talk your ear off. Gerard remarked as Justice gave them their general marching orders- it was starting to feel a lot like the simulations again. "At least take Kali with- actually nevermind, she's liable to shoot something if it jumps out at you."

As Justice headed off to go search for a princess in distress, the rest of them moved to join Morden and Silje. Val leaping off with her vestigial wings, while Gerard plodded along behind her, only pausing occasionally to throw the occasional pebble with simple light charms into any of the invisible mist-pockets he noticed. Most of them began to float as they hit the pockets- should they need to leave in a hurry, it'd make spotting the pockets easier at least.

---

"You weren't kidding when you said you found a 'bot." Gerard grimaced as they regrouped. Here, in the heart of the crash, the air felt even heavier. Gerard felt rather than saw mist, and often described his perception of mist to be like clay: Something simple and easy for him to mold precisely into whatever he needed, from his weapons to healing spells. In here, the air felt less like maleable clay and more like an amorphous sludge or putty. To make matters worse, one stream of putty that Silje was interacting with felt different from the rest.

"Hey Sil, I don't know if that's a good idea-" Gerard had managed to start, but it was too late.

As soon as Silje's being made contact with the weird mist, she immediately felt sick, as though her stomach had decided to do half a dozen somersaults in a single second. The feedback was visible, an inky black spark originating from the mist flew out and struck her in the forehead, knocking the small WARDEN clean off of her larger mount.

---

Justice's search ended not too far from the rest of the squad, just separated by a few dozen meters of mountainous metal rubble, fire and mist, near the edge of the crater. The presence she detected seemed to be coming from a dented and battered life boat. A fully enclosed escape-pod like device, meant to sit a few individuals, it seemed to have been launched a few seconds too late, its parachute apparently getting struck by and caught on the crashing ship. It's door had been knocked clean off by the impact and was warped and angled in a way that one would have to squeeze to get out. With her keen senses, Justice could make out what appeared to be a mixture of sobs and labored breathing.

Perhaps spotting a silhouette or somehow detecting her presence, as Justice approached the battered pod, from somewhere within she could see a flash of white-yellow light. Someone obviously skilled was preparing a spell- though perhaps unfamiliar with the dangers of firing spells off in such a volatile area.

"W-who's there?!" A shaky voice called out from within the dark pod. "A-albriech?"

---

"Jeez Silje, what were you thinking?" Gerard half complained as he began making his way over to the little battle mage. "Vacation's not over yet, can't have you keeling over before-"

Gerard blinked and paused, he could've sworn he heard the sound of metal shifting. Throwing his gauntlet into the air at the last moment, he managed a startled "Gah! Fuck!" across the squad communication spell as a blast of electricity cut through the air and slammed into his gauntlet, ricocheting high into the air and sending the gauntlet flying towards his face. The impact of his gauntlet caused his aegis to shatter like glass.

Climbing out of the rubble was another one of the robots that Morden had found, this one fully possessing all of its limbs, though it seemed to have taken just as much damage to its thick armor plating. The cannon on its arm smoked faintly as it's heavy fist pushed aside rubble to climb into the space proper. A Vangar sword-type gunblade stuck out of one of its four glowing eyes, only having sank in an inch. To make matters worse, Gerard felt the rubble behind him shifting as well, a second robot, this one considerably more damaged, missing its cannon arm, but still more than willing to use its remaining arm to attempt to bludgeon them into paste on the ground.

With express permission from Justice for her to take command of the squad while the other 2nd Class went on a search & rescue sweep of the area, Valerie led Gerard and Kalina to rendezvous with Morden and Silje. By the time they arrived, the 'colorblind' battlemage was already fiddling with stray mist near the wrecked robot. "..." Valerie frowned in strong disapproval, but Gerard already beat her to the punch, alas, even the telekinetic WARDEN's warning still wasn't enough to prevent Silje from being struck on the forehead by the volatile mist. The white-haired gunner could only sigh in unsurprised defeat, really, the hyperactive girl should count herself lucky to only suffer a minor backlash, hopefully she'd take that warning to heart.

However, it seemed that the mist-ridden hellscape wasn't satisfied with just Silje, it demanded more tribute and it just so happened to be Gerard. As if sentient, the stray mists had a penchant for striking faces as a lightning bolt blitzed through the air, crashing against Gerard's gauntlet with enough force to slam the thing against its own wielder's face. Only a brief moment later that Valerie realized this one was no mist at all, "Squad, contact!" the vice-commander barked into their comms as a pair of damaged-yet-functional combat mechs burst from the rubble. One of them immediately went after Gerard to finish what it had started with a pummel.

"Tch...!" Acting on well-honed instincts, Valerie dashed forward to put herself between the 1st Mech and Gerard, leading to said mech's metal limb to collide with her instead. The horned girl gritted her teeth as her vein-enhanced Aegis barrier mitigated most of the force before she's sent flying backward, damaged yet unbroken thanks to the extra durability courtesy of her power. Valerie's ethereal wings spread as she stuck her landing, using her massive gun as a support to steady herself.

"Morden, Silje!" The vice-commander enunciated, her tone shifting to full no-nonsense pragmatism, "Engage the mech charging at you, and remember, mind your aim." Next, "Kalina, Gerard!" she addressed the remaining two squad members, "Take cover behind me, we'll take care of the other bot." She kept her wings spread, mostly to appear as a bigger target to the automaton, regardless if it mattered or not.

As for how she herself should engage the foe... These pockets... if a simple prod could cause them to lash out... She ought to err on the side of caution then. Adjusting Haylel's firing mode to single-shots, Valerie would wield the gun as if it was a DMR rather than a machine gun, "Engaging hostiles!" Then began firing off mist-fueled energy projectiles at the mech, one by one carefully aimed at its center mass.

What a pain. Fortunate that these Vangarite mechs were already heavily damaged, else they might have posed a serious threat to the squad. Nonetheless, Kalina followed orders as she was bid to, letting Valerie draw fire before moving to engage herself.

As soon as the horned woman had the attention of the mech they were supposed to be dealing with, Kalina shot out from behind cover, her gunblade materializing out of her Mist Pocket. Fortunate that her fighting style relied less on Mist than it did on the specialized mechanics of her weapon, or else this may have been more complicated, considering the terrain.

"Engaging now. Valerie, check your fire."

She manuevered herself to rush the damaged mech on its flank, her gunblade brandished out in front of her as she lunged. Kalina slashed down in an overhand strike with both hands on the hilt, pressing the trigger at the last possible moment to fire one of her chambered rounds. The recoil caused her blade to vibrate at high speeds, greatly enhancing its cutting power as her downward cleave came crashing down on the mech's optics.

---

This had all gone to shit way faster than it had any right to. In no time at all, Barghest was surrounded by these machines. Silje got cracked over the damn head by the mist as if it had a mind of its own. That was stupid of her, but alas, they had bigger problems. Several of the Vangar robots were still clearly in working order. And someone was clearly shooting at them- In a highly volatile pocket of mist. Vangar's forces were always causing trouble at every fucking opportunity, and Morden couldn't stop to bitch about it before the resident gunner of the squad started opening fire. Barghest had been trained for a decade to fight, until they were at they were at their limit, and then fight again. This was nothing to them, nothing to stop and gawk at. All they had to do was remember everything they learned together.

Morden let instinct and training take the wheel. In his enhanced state, this would be like a brutal fist fight for him. He dropped low and charged towards the nearest robot. It had all of its limbs relatively intact, but that blade sticking through its face was a weak spot to be exploited. Morden ran, and ran, and ran to pick up as much speed as he possibly could, and then leapt up off of the ground in a practiced motion. For other WARDENs, this tactic wasn't very common, but Morden was capable of leveraging the strength of power armor with the mobility of infantry. His body twisted upwards and his legs folded until the second before impact, when he shot them out in a flying drop kick to bury the sword deeper. His hope was that shattering the skull of that machine would immediately disable it. Or, at the very least, point out that their heads weren't an instant KO spot.



They may be damaged, but their weaponry is an unknown. Vangar never uses machines like these to fight their battles- There could be any number of tech inside them. Someone is out there firing spells in this pocket we are all standing in. Justice! What do you see out there? It was important to maintain communication, and Gerard's psychic link spell was perfect for chaotic events like these.