vietmyke

Tales Of Endoroth (A Slice Of Life MMO Roleplay) (CLOSED)

I've been dealing with some vehicle issues, but I should be able to get something up tonight

Falling Skies

<<Go! Go! Go!>>

<<Get under him!>>

<<Claymores away!>>

On the far side beneath the destroyer, the remaining pair of Sentries were quick to fly underneath the hull and let loose a flurry of missiles, their autocannons flaring streams of fire as the pilots attacked, emboldened by the presence of a 101st ace. The remaining Fenrirs broke left and right, juking and attempting to dodge, as the third drew its combat blade to counter the Shrike's saber. The blade missed its mark, the saber didn't. One of the remaining Fenrir's was enveloped in the overlapping explosions of a trio of claymores and the last one attempted to retreat back into the debris field, missing an arm and leg, its head unit too damaged to allow for proper targeting.

The remaining Fenrir's erratic piloting took it on a near crash course with Braide's Venator, its sensors too damaged to notice that the UEE pilot was on top of it until they were practically touching. Braide's sensors picked up a pair of hastily sent out pings- one was an SOS ping, the other an extremely haphazard white-flag ping, though despite it attempt at surrender, the remaining arm on the Fenrir still went for its combat blade at its side.

<<Fuck yeah!>>

<<That's right! Run Capitalist scum!>>

The Fafnir that had been streaking towards Kilmer and Braide found itself suddenly engaged by the Blackout's sniper cannon and funnels, as well as the Secutor moving in to intercept it. It broke left as it attempted to dodge the incoming cannon round, but reacted too late as the Blackout's 90mm shell struck its plasma cannon center mass. The heavy plasma cannon sparked, and the Fafnir was forced to pause long enough to reach up and rip the cannon out of its housing, tossing it aside as it exploded in a fireball of orange and purple.

Its momentum stopping for only a moment, the Fafnir was quick to reverse and boost again, tracking a wide arc as it attempted to get away from the funnels, shooting down one of them as it twisted and re-engage on the intercepting heavy mech. A pair of funnel drones deployed from its shoulders flying to towards the Shrike and Venator, targeting weakpoints with autocannon shells and attempting to keep the two at two lighter machines at bay, as the Fafnir moved in to engage the Secutor, opening up with a short salvo from its HPK cannon before initiating a swirling dive with its plasma talons extended.

---

"No promises! Now I feel like I have to go looking for it!" Sabine sang into the comms as she streaked through the debris field. Her course was damn near dizzying, as she zipped around an asteroid, through a pair of crashing starship plates, through a field of microparticles, shields flaring the whole time as muted proximity alarms continued to flash in the corners of her HUD. To its credit, the remaining Garmr was undisturbed by the loss of its wingman, continuing to pursue the Sparrowhawk as though it had a one track mind.

Flicking a pair of switches, she shut off the inertial dampeners on the Sparrowhawk before throwing it into a 180 turn, flipping onto its 'back' as she leveled her plasma cannon at the remaining Garmr. A trio of autocannon shells streaked past her cockpit, which shuddered as a fourth cracked across the surface of her energy shield, shattering it. The woman ground her lip as she focused in as she pulled on the stick, trying to line up her targeting reticle as she continued to boost backwards and dodge through debris and incoming fire. "C'mon you little bitch, show me the- Money!" Sabine jammed the firing stud, the Sparrowhawk pulling the trigger on its cannon, sending a lance of plasma streaking through the vapor trails of Spiker rockets as the Garmr loosed its entire rack of rockets, trying to score a kill on the nimble Sparrowhawk. Plasma melted through thickened armor and cockpit before striking the Garmr's reactor core. The rockets caught debris and empty void as the Sparrowhawk twisted and boosted away, the cored remains of the Garmr slowly drifting away into the debris field.

As the Watchdog fired on the remaining Fenrirs, pulling back towards the safety of their cruiser, Vulture's targeting computer screamed warning into his eyes and ears as a bright pink Sparrowhawk began to fly near his line of fire, plasma saber streaking as Sabine took a swipe against a retreating Fenrir. Around him, lines lit up again as the Roanoke locked targets and fired another volley of plasma fire at the Coalition ships.

"Hey boss, bet the others can mop up the Coalie ace easy enough- feel like hunting some real big game?" Sabine laughed as her machine streaked towards the remaining Coalition ships, weaving through AA fire and flak as she made a beeline for the surface of the Coalition cruiser, where she'd be too close for the point defense weapons to fire on her. By this point, the remaining UEE destroyer was finally in range of the Coalition ships, it too adding its weapons to the mix. A pair of heavy shipbusting torpedos barreling their way through the debris field towards the remaining cruiser and frigate.

<<Vulture. Sarret.>> Sagan's comms crackled to life as the Roanoke's Captain contacted him. <<Sitrep: 5th Fleet has successfully broken through several points on the Coalition lines, Coalie fleet is starting to fall back, landings will begin within the hour. Clear the board then RTB to prep for Phase 2. How copy?>>

Falling Skies

Sabine 'Rabbit' Laurent

Sabine hummed a happy little tune as she watched the various radar pings on her sensors move off in different directions. The rookie, along with Commie were heading off to assist the beleaguered destroyers as the rest held the center where the bulk of the enemy force was. That of course meant that she was left to pick off the flanking Garmr before they got to the squad all by her lonesome- well, her with Hex's overwatch of course. "You heard the Communist, keep an eye on me." Sabine's voice called across their comms. Even behind her polarized faceplate, her wink could practically be felt over the tacnet, "I love it when I get attention."

In its folded flight mode, the Sparrowhawk rivaled regular aerospace fighters, the blur of alloy and thrusters flaring into the nearby debris field where the Garmrs were heading through. Sabine's head rocked left and right in her seat as she juked her way through larger chunks of debris, pulling straight to thread the needle through two halves of a ruined solar plate the size of a football field. Her shields flaring as microparticles impacted and ricocheted off its surface, and her vision dimmed as she began to hit excessive G-forces. Red lights from proximity alarms and G warnings were quickly nulled as she slapped some buttons and flicked some switches to shut them off, activating her mimetic paint while she was at it. The Garmrs were still forming up when a streak of bright pink streaked through their formation.

"Salut les enfoirés~" Sabine called through the unsecured 'open' transmission channel, broadcasting to anyone close enough to pick them up- in this case, the Garmr squad. Pulling hard on the stick, the Sparrowhawk shifted back to its bipedal mode, spinning in a smooth 180 as it did. Without even waiting for her computer to give her a proper firing solution, Sabine began pulling the trigger on her rifle. Lances of deadly, volatile plasma shot out, two slagging bits of solar panel and ship hull before a third struck one of the Garmr in the back shoulder. The resultant explosion ripped off the left arm and detonated one of its rear thrusters, sending the Garmr spiraling into the debris field only to be stopped in place by a large chunk of debris.

The remaining Garmr scattered in a panic, taking off in different directions as Sabine chose one to chase after. The Garmr were speedy- when compared to standard UEE Sentries, but the Sparrow- and Sparrowhawk had little difficulty keeping up with it, juking through the debris field in a deadly game of cat and mouse, thruster trails weaving in and out of broken steel. The Garmr Sabine chased after was loosing pre-emptive flares, which only gave away his position as the faster Sparrowhawk kicked off of a panel of solar panel, beam saber flashing as it cut through the darkness of space. Thick armor plating did little against plasma, as the Sparrowhawk shore its leg off, before bounding off of it. In a panic, the Garmr turned around, autocannons, missiles and even point defense laser firing off wildly as it attempted to get a bead on Sabine. Her shields flared as the laser danced across its surface, but had little effect as the Sparrowhawk leveled its barrel and fired a quick two shots into the flailing Garmr, the first shot taking out its head, the second hitting the machine square in the cockpit.

Splash two, Sabine called out, "Garmr are hardly a- Sabine's voice disappeared in a wash of static and warning alarms as she juked rapidly to the side, taking cover from a burst of autocannon shells behind a chunk of debris.

The remaining Garmr were less panicked than their squadmate, and were quick to begin chasing after Sabine as the Sparrowhawk shifted back into flight mode and boosted away, trails of autocannon tracers flying around and past her. The tone of missile locks rang through her ears as Sabine banked out of the debris field and dropped flares, sledgehammer missiles flying wide as they were intercepted.

"Two fans on my tail Hex, be a babe and take care of them for me?" Sabine called out over the comms.

---

<<Fuck! Fuck! I can't shake- Aaugh!>>

<<Get around him, box the bastard in!>>

<<I'm on him, hold him steady!>>

The Coalition comms were a mess as the Fenrir's realized they weren't going toe to toe with standard UEE pilots, their numbers quickly cut to pieces by the 7th. Of the original 8 Fenrir, only half of their number remained as the Watchdog caught up to the fourth Fenrir and made short work of it with his beam saber. To their credit, they were quick to react, using their remaining numbers to their advantage. As the one Vulture was shooting at executed evasive maneuvers, dodging through fire as best it could- its shoulder shield was slagged, and its rocket pod exploded as another shell punched through it- two more flew at the Watchdog at different angles. One hefted a belt fed Type 5, laying down its own suppressive hail of autocannon shells as the second flew at Sagan's back, broadsword pointed and ready to run mech and pilot alike through.

The remaining Fenrir broke away from the fight with the Watchdog to try and put fire down on the Secutor, 35mm shells ricocheting and exploding against the thickened armor as it let loose a barrage before launching a pair of sledgehammers to hopefully put the Secutor down. To add onto the incoming threat, the two Sköllr now had a bead on the Secutor, one of them opening up with its own heavy rotary cannon, bracing it against its shield as its thrusters flared, the heavy recoil more or less keeping it in place. The second Sköllr advanced more aggressively, its plasma scattercannon glowing as it charged, ready to slag the Secutor once it closed the distance.

<<7th Squadron. Notice from the Ronaoke.>> Eva's voice cut into the 7th comms. <<INS Roanoke preparing to fire, clear firing lanes.>> Across their HUDs, bright lines were painted to show where the Roanoke's cannons would fire, with enough notice for the pilots to not be in the way.

<<Roanoke. Salvo away.>>

A quartet of plasma beams ripped through space, each beam practically the width of a truck as they flew across the battlespace. The heavy beams vaporized debris and one of the Sköllr who had the misfortune of being in the way, exploding in a ball of fire as its reactor went critical. The heavy beams struck at the Coalition frigates, one going up in smoke as a beam caved in its bridge, the other taking significant damage but remaining otherwise intact. The Coalition ships responded with their own wave of cannonfire, some of it caught in the debris field, others flying past the 7th to score hits on the Roanoke, its shields flaring as it took hits.

---

As the 7th and the Roanoke engaged each other center field, the UEE destroyers had made it to the edge of the debris field, though their escort wasn't faring very well, and one of the destroyers was leaking smoke from its engines as the Coalition forces harried them. The destroyer's defenses had been whittled down to a trio of Sentries, against a quintet of Fenrirs, though with the addition of Braide and Kilmer, they now numbered 5 to 3. The remaining Coalition Fenrirs were quick to reposition, taking cover behind the more damaged destroyer, its point defense weapons already stripped, one of them using the destroyer's bridge to make its opponents think twice before firing at it. From this new firing position they began to lay down fire against the 7th, loosing more sledgehammer missiles at the Shrike as they fired burst after burst of autocannon shells against the fancy Venator.

<<Man are we glad to see you!>> a helmeted face appeared on Kilmer and Braide's HUDs, the name plate identifying him as an Ensign Sorrels, as his Sentry flew up closer towards them. His faceplate visor was cracked and his Sentry was missing an arm, but otherwise intact. <<Coalies are tearing us up over here, we could use the->>

The transmission was cut short as the broadcasting Sentry was struck by a beam of plasma, punching a hole clean through its cockpit before clipping its reactor. The Sentry exploded a few moments later. High above the battlespace, well above the debris field, there was another glint and flash, followed by a lance of blue light cutting across space. A split second later, a beam made impact through the bridge of the forward destroyer, decapitating the ship. There was a bright flash and streak of blue thruster trails as the shooter rapidly flew towards the battlespace, a third plasma beam scoring a direct hit on the magazine of the headless destroyer, exploding in a tremendous fireball.

<<Alert. Coalition MAS entering battlespace. Eva's voice sounded out across the 7th. <<Designation: Fafnir. Uploading unit specifications now.

AATx-003 Fafnir

M O B I L E A R M O R S U I T

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S P E C I F I C A T I O N S

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Designation: AATx-003 Fafnir L (Limited Production)
Role: Fire Support, Anti-Ship
Weight Class: Heavy
Description:
A brand new Coalition design, bridging the gap between the Coalition's experience and the UEE's advanced technology, the Fafnir is for all intents and purposes, a Next-Gen MAS. Extremely fast and nimble, especially given its size, well armored and deadly to boot, the Fafnir is a jack of all trades, but it is hardly a master of none. Given out exclusively to Coalition Aces, the Fafnir is a rare sight on the battlefield, and a scant few pilots have been able to see one and live to tell the tale.

A R M A M E N T

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• Type-31 Plasma ESR Beam Cannon(Superheavy): - A long barreled heavy plasma beam cannon utilized by the Fafnir, the Type-31 is a exceedingly powerful weapon designed to be fired at standoff ranges. Primarily designed to take on and destroy naval vessels, the Type-31 is extremely devastating when used against a MAS, even a glancing blow could prove fatal. While incredibly deadly against MAS, the charge time can make it more difficult for an operator to get a good shot on an opposing MAS who is actively attempting to dodge or in the middle of a dogfight.
• CB-12 'Funnel' Drone system (Heavy): - Mounted on its thruster pack, beneath circular shields, the Fafnir can deploy a pair of remote combat drones. Each drone is armed with a twin barreled 35mm autocannon and a quartet of Maul missiles. Fast, nimble and surprisingly hardy, these drones are a credible threat to MAS and soft targets alike, often harassing targets as the Fafnir goes in for the kill.
• Type-20 35mm HPK Autocannon(Primary): - A large rifle with a built in plasma capacitor, the Type-20's 35mm rounds hit with power that well exceeds that of the standard Coalition autocannon, and can put down a UEE Sentry in a burst or two It fires out of a 120 round box magazine at a relatively low rate of fire.
• Plasma Talons (Secondary): - In lieu of any dedicated melee weapon, the Fafnir's talon-like feet can deploy plasma edges to tear apart foes at close ranges.
• Supercharged Flight Boosters (Utility slot): - High powered flight boosters make the Fafnir almost as fast as a Light MAS, with a nimbleness and mobility that better than that of most Mediums. The system itself is rather delicate compared to most flight boosters, and is powered by two large fuel canisters.
• Enhanced Radar Suite (Utility slot): - An internally built in radar system gives the Fafnir improved detection range and accuracy over long distances
• Class 3 Reflex Energy Shield (Utility slot): - A powerful reflex shield alongside its substantial armor gives the Fafnir considerable staying power.

Falling Skies (Mecha, Military, Space Opera)

I appreciate the interest! Yes, we are closed for the moment- there may be other opportunities to join, but I can't promise that unfortunately. Character sheets are always fun, if you decide to write one anyway, I'd happily read it!

Tales Of Endoroth (A Slice Of Life MMO Roleplay) (CLOSED)

I don't mind chasing after the Jester, but they might need some sort of reason beyond that- I think as it is, all the players are like, 'regular people'. Its hard to put like super serious stakes into a game unless it directly effects them and they have a way to directly effect it- as it is, as normal players they can't really do a whole lot to the jester even if they do find him.

Maybe admins assign them temporary mod powers to ban him if they manage to track him down or something like that.

Tales Of Endoroth (A Slice Of Life MMO Roleplay) (CLOSED)

Rathello

---

"What a fucking asshole." Rath grumbled aloud as the party reconvened in a safer area. The others were sending messages out to moderators, so Rathello let them do that as he headed inside an inn to access his personal stash. Grabbing a few extra potions he headed back out to reconvene with the others, next run would just be a power run to make up for lost time. Goibnu and Elian started sharing their social media, though Claudia seemed reluctant to. Rath merely shrugged.

"I prefer in-game chatter but I suppose ChaosX makes things more convenient, mine is 'Reverett', I think my requests are public- I should probably change that."

Rathello frowned as the Uriel shared what the others had mentioned about this so called 'jester', something about a child being seen with him. Most of the NPCs in ToE were adults, and what children NPCs there were were typically in safe areas- so certain players wouldn't try to hurt them. That more or less meant the only 'child' that could be following the Jester was probably a player. Rath didn't even know they had child models for players- he didn't remember what the rating for ToE was, but he doubted it was particularly a suitable game for children.

"This whole Jester business goes a bit over our heads I think- I mean, even if we could kill him, its not like that does anything to him, and he still knows our personal info to boot. How's he running circles around the mods like this? Can't they just check which players were in the dungeon during that last instance and ban whoever isn't us?"

The Envenomed: Military Science Fiction Deniable Operations

ECHO DOMAIN - PLATFORM #2884

The derelict spacestation was a setting unlike any Echo had been on before. The Echo platform was primarily used to conventional battlefields, maneuver warfare and straight gunfights, so entering an area so saturated in etheric energies was disconcerting. The platform took cautious scans of everything the squad witnessed, though was careful not to directly interface with any of the working ghost machines- having any of its armor of systems compromised would be bad for the health of the group.

Rho-hux took the front position of the squad, his attending microform not far from him as he did. Echo's larger Endoform stuck to the back of the formation, it could effectively see all around it, and the heavy armor wouldn't block the sight or firing lines of any of the squad members should they run into contact. At worst, Echo's Endoform was tall enough that it could fire over the heads of the rest of the squad if they needed more forward facing firepower.

As Rho-hux indicated that he would tap his armor comms to indicate danger, the Endoform chimed in. Acknowledged. Designating triple-ping. Implication. Danger.

As the squad advanced, the microforms stayed at the edges of their formation, close enough to their designated squad members to defend, 'eyes' pointed outward to scan their environment. The Endoform, unfortunately was nowhere near as lightfooted as it's Microform support units, the heavier armor crunching and squelching as it pressed on fleshy organic material and bulkhead metal, but it's 'eyes' were facing the back of their formation, watching for any threats coming up behind them.

Alert. Initiating Multi-spectrum scanning. Elaboration. Relevant information to be overlaid on friendly HUD.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Galahad Caradoc

---

"Are you men of Shilage then?" Galahad toned subtly, "Sure dont act like it." If Galahad held any surprise at any of the information the highwaymen divulged, the Dragoon's helmet obscured it from view. As far as the bandits were concerned, he was as impassive as ever. Deserters Galahad had expected, though Galahad hadn't expected to be hearing names so close to home- there were some untold dozens of nobles and noble families in Edren, but Istvan was a name Galahad recognized. Rudolf was quick to fill in any possible gaps in memory with a quick rundown of what he expected- though perhaps a bit harsher than Galahad might have done with the same information.

Rudolf was harsh, but he was right- everyone had skeletons in their closets, Robin's apparent mentor not withstanding. A heavy, gauntleted arm pressed on Robin's shoulder as Galahad turned to her. "People change with time. Old becomes new." He murmured quietly, his voice low and quiet, speaking solely to Robin. "No one is without fault. Perhaps he recognized the poor path of his ways and resolved himself to be better- If he is how you believe he is, then you are living proof of his attempts to reconcile his ways."

"If they were your mentor's men, they certainly aren't anymore. Just a group of ruffians abusing and distorting what techniques he taught them. No more, no less." Galahad concluded quietly, before glancing back at the men, his tone growing a bit clearer as he regarded them. "Though not very well it seems. You all appear to be too used to fighting those who can't or won't fight back. The footwork is there, but sloppy.

Galahad's hand pressed to his hip, the other swinging the heavy halberd up and shouldering it. The question remained, what to do with the rest of them. The Kirins weren't exactly in a place to be taking prisoners at the moment, they were too few, and those of them that were there hardly had the time to be standing guard. As frustrating as the bandits were, distracting them from their current objectives, they had surrendered, and Galahad wasn't much for executions- though they couldn't exactly let them go either. Nothing would stop these men from just acquiring more swords and doing much the same as they had been doing before running across the Kirins. The idea of Edreni men harrying the people of Drana Asnaeu wasn't a pleasant thought either.

Maybe he'd just escort the men to a local guard's post and let the local authorities handle all of this business.

"If they don't know where Fey is, then there's no sense listening to them any further.

Tales Of Endoroth (A Slice Of Life MMO Roleplay) (CLOSED)

I'll probably need a skip this round-things be busy and haven't lightened up

Falling Skies

Persean Sector, Terimon System_

Orbit above Skogsrå_
INS Roanoke, 101st Special Forces Legion. Local Time: 0730_

---

"Ooh! Watch your friendly fire there tiger, I like my eardrums intact before we get into a gunfight!" Sabine's lilted voice half drawled over the tacnet as their resident rookie shouted through the comms. At least he was eager. It remained to be seen whether or not Braide would be an adequate replacement for Sokolov, but at least they shared a few aspects- they were loud and eager. That eagerness had gotten Sokolov killed, but maybe this rookie would be different- he had a fancy new toy anyway. Maybe not as new as Kilmer's Shrike, but probably twice as expensive. The boy was basically driving a lambo to a destruction derby.

"Wouldn't want to question High Command, now would we, boss? Though, that being said- How come we get all the 'fun' sorties? I feel like they're playing favorites or something- they really oughta share the love." Sabine laughed over the crackling net as her machine began to stomp into the center row of the hangar, a set of panels already raising above ground level. Heavy mechanized feet placed themselves firmly in the center of a pair of panels, clamps locking its feet in place, as the panels centered themselves and lifted a few feet higher above the floor. Unlike larger aircraft carriers, with long chute-style catapults, the Roanoke didn't have the hangar space for such fancy gizmos. Instead, the pilots of the 7th relied on a short and primitive grav-launch system, a miniature catapult that could be combined with a micro gravity-generator that would launch them straight 'up' out of the open hangar doors and into zero gravity before their thrusters could kick in. It didn't get them into the fray or into maneuvering speeds quite as fast as a conventional rail launch system, but it meant the Roanoke could deploy its entire clutch of MAS twice as fast as a typical carrier.

Even inside the hangar, their sensors had already begun picking up multiple radar signatures, The Roanoke wasn't at the front of the battleline, but it didn't mean the Coalies were going to just let them go without trying to get their pound of flesh. It was going to be a relatively hot launch. "Hey Hex, bet you the rook pukes before VC does." There was a hiss as the cables connecting the Sparrowhawk to the ship were disconnected, removing the MAS from the Roanoke’s grid, and the hiss of hydraulics as the panels quickly propelling the Roanoke’s MAS’ into the black void of space in pairs. The Sparrowhawk’s thrusters activated as soon as Sabine cleared the threshold of the Roanoke’s hangar, banking off to get out of the way of other launching craft. Cannonfire had begun whizzing by them already, ricocheting off of the Roanoke's comparatively heavier armor, setting off proximity alarms as it passed.

---

Persean Sector, Terimon System_

Orbit above Skogsrå_
Open Space, 101st Special Forces Legion. Local Time: 0740_

---

Taking a moment to orient herself, Sabine remembered how free- and dangerous space combat felt. No solid ground or cover, fire could come from almost any angle- and at any distance. The only thing keeping her from dying in a vacuum was a few layers or armor and a shield generator. She didn't have any more than a moment however, as another volley of cannonfire flew past them, forcing the Sparrowhawk to juke out of the way to dodge a particularly close miss. Talk about a hot launch.

Space around them was chaos. The main battle lines had devolved into localized skirmishes and knife fights, pairs of UEE destroyers chased down Coalition cruisers, battleships traded fire as mechs and aerospace fighters zipped between lances of plasma and flights of missiles, opening up with one another with missiles and autocannons or making attack runs on ships. Directly to the Roanoke's 'left', a UEE cruiser, the INS Ibara leaked fire and smoke, its emergency lights flickering through tiny viewports as it lagged behind the main line. A blast of plasma from a Coalition Cruiser directly in front of the Roanoke struck its starboard gunnery deck, a massive flower of crimson and orange blooming from its side as it ejected debris and bodies into the void. To the Roanoke's 'right' a pair of destroyers were making a run at the cruiser but were being harried by a pair of Fenrir squadrons, their own MAS and Aerospace complement being cut to pieces.

Debris from the station had found its way in between the two formations, large chunks of station blocking direct lines of sight from MAS and ship alike, with smaller chunks threatening to pierce the cockpit of anyone flying into it too quickly if they were unable to weave through it. Flats of massive solar panels formed miniature planes to fight from and chunks of station debris functioned as both cover and firing positions.

Flanking Coalition cruiser was pair of light frigates, pushing forward, seemingly intent on crippling the small carrier before it was able to get a clean attack on their cruiser or before it could fall back to the carrier line. At the head of the small Coalition force was two full squadrons of Coalition MAS, Sabine’s targeting computers tracking a pair of Sköllr, screened by no less than 8 Fenrir IIs, flying in a wide wedge towards them. While the Fenrirs were a target the 7th were used to fighting, the Sköllr were rather resilient, and could prove to be quite the danger for the Roanoke should they be allowed to get close enough. A quartet of Garmr were moving in from the flank, thrusters peeking through the rubble and debris as they weaved their way ahead to intercept the 7th, trying to catch them in a pincer. At their current speed and distance, they'd be within weapons range in mere minutes.

"Talk about a warm welcome, non?" Sabine's helmeted face winked to life in the corner of the 7th's HUDs as she spoke. Leaning back, she pressed a button on her control panel, the Sparrowhawk's legs and arms folding in as it switched to its flight mode. Thrusters flared as Sabine sent herself careening forward, her wingtips spiraling as she rolled to dodge another wave of incoming fire. "I think they like me!"