Airspace near Leipzig Metro-Ruins, ca. 500 km south-east of Rungholt

The Grav-Glider rumbled, as turbulences shook the craft. There were no windows and heavy plating on the outside muffled any noise and yet one could hear the faint, distant rumbling of Moloch-Cannonades unleashing their deadly load. A low thunder, followed by the sharp hiss of chemical projectiles igniting upon contact with the atmosphere.

No shots of an Anti-Air, however. That was the good news. The 7th had send out three whole companies several hours ago to knock them out, meaning the Gliders could actually come in and drop troops on the ground. The first Drop had landed twenty minutes ago.

Now it was their turn.

"Alright squads, listen up!"

Captain Svenson stepped through the space between the tightly packed Wardens, each strapped into their seats already. The heavy steps of his JUDAH-2B echoed through the entire room, the Exo-Suits pneumatic muscles whirring low, like a predator loosening up before a fight. The broad silhouette made even wider by the large riot-shield on his back. Despite being ostensibly new, the suit somehow had already several scratches and scorchmarks on it.

"We are twenty minutes from the HZ¹, so we are going to go over the mission one more time." The helmet opened up to reveal the scarred visage of a wolf-hybrid. Large mutton-chops running down the rugged cheeks and a mouth practically made to chew on a E-Cig², which in absence of it now instead bared the wide fangs so typical of a hybrid.

"We are part of the Second Drop, which includes 8th and 9th Company." A screen flickered on the ceiling, showing the terrain and enemy positions in a grainy, blue filter. The definition was bad, owed to the cheap nature of the Glider they were in. Nonetheless, one could still make out the ruined space-port of Halle-Leipzig.

An ancient complex, dating back all the way into Lost History³. Originally one of the major transport-hubs of Central Europa, it once shipped millions of tons of cargo across the planet and even off-world. Now, of course, it was little more than a collossal ruin.

One could make out the vast kilometer-wide building-array to the east, where passenger terminals and cargo-holds had been centuries ago. To the west stood the Comm-Towers, three massive, interlocked buildings that once coordinated traffic across the entire complex, but was now caked over with Zet-Chitin and teaming with hostile bips on the screen. And lasty, the ruined port itself. The skeleton of the Mass-Accelerator still rose up into the skyline, like a broken ramp, while next to laid the collossal and utterly collapsed carbon-concrete ruins of the space-elevator, resembling a shattered tube.

And there, using the ruins of the elevator as cover, were the positions of the Molochs. They too were swarmed by thousands of blips, that signified hostile infantry activity.

"We are to take out the units guarding the Molochs⁴. Originally meant to be done by the 7th in area, but we lost contact with them. They likely scattered when the Behemoth entered the field. After we finished off the artillery, we are to re-establish communication with them and link up."

The assembled Wardens mumbled amongst each other, digesting the information. Ten Squads in total were assembled, the whole of Svensons Brigade. And they were only a small part of the Second Drop, that included two whole companies. Its been some time since they had an operation this big. As such, there was an undercurrent of nervousness tinging the stale air.

Especially, since the Brigade was mainly comprised of Rookies.

"Enemy forces on the ground?", came the rough, hoary voice of Sgt. Peréz. The veteran Warden leaned slightly forward, his one biological eye staring not at the screen, but at his Captain, while his other bionic one glowed with red light in the low shadows. A five-o'-clock shadow covered his brown, sunken-in cheeks.

"Largely Imps, complemented by a single Warrior-Detachment. Get rid off the chaff and don't the latter close in. Reports say they might be Blade-Forms."

The murmur got louder now. Warriors were bad news, especially ones equipped for close quarters. They had seen vid-recordings of those things tearing apart even heavier suits with their chitin-blades. Working like a pack, overwhelming the victim and then carving them apart...

"Stop your bitching! Its just one detachment.", snapped Cpt. Svenson angrily. "Our boys and girls of the First Drop have to deal with nastier stuff. So count your blessings!"

"They don't have to babysit figging⁵ Rookies...", mumbled Peréz to himself.

Svenson waited for the murmurs to subside, before continuing. "I know for many of you this is your first mission and its a big one. But thats what you signed up for. To go out and kick those Chitin-bastards in their non-existent balls! And today we gotta kick them. Hard."

"Any sign of TD?"

Svenson stopped for a moment, looking at the lone Warden that spoke up. It was a young baseline man, his nervousness audible in his question.

"Teardrop?" Cpt. Svenson shook his head. "Commander Wille of the 7th reported a sighting of that bitch way off, on the far side of the Leipzig Megaplex, in the Grimma Quadrant. So, we don't have to worry about it showing up to ruin the party."

The young man nodded, visibly relieved. Another one next to him frowned.

"Bitch? I thought Zet were genderless."

Another one chimed in, a tattoo-ed ganger with a big grin. "I mean, I can see it. Those hips, man..."

"Ew, seriously!? That is a Zet, for Gods sake!"

"Just saying that those plates kinda suggest something. You know—"

"Teardrop can have literal tits for all I care. I expect you guys to still unload on it, when you make a sighting!", snapped Svenson. Everyone in the Glider started to chuckle and one could see from the slight grin on the Captains face, that the innuendo was entirely on purpose. It did relief some of the tension in the air.

Of course, despite all this, nobody liked the idea of coming face to face with the infamous Zet-Knight that had given the Swarm of Grief that occupied the Halle-Leipzig Ruins its name. Knights were bad news in general and this one had been powerful enough to match Commander Bromsfjord in battle. There was no illusion that were it present, it would spell desaster for the Operation.

"Any more questions?", asked Cpt. Svenson looking across the rows of his Wardens.

¹HZ = Hot Zone, meaning a contested zone marked for dropping troops on

²E-Cig = electronic cigarrette, exuding a small stimulant that invokes smoking, without any actual content.

³Lost History = history predating the Ancient Realms, usually without even spotty records

⁴Moloch = large, quadrupedal Zet-Organism, usually serving as artillery

⁵figging = common curse-word

Edited by TheNohen on Feb 24th 2024 at 2:14:28 PM

Czes: Awaiting Deployment

Czes, as she was known in short, had somehow managed to make even the rigid upright seat she was strapped into a partial nest that she was lazily flopped in. Still, her ears were perked up and attentive, and her tail curled back and forth as she listened to their Captain, taking in every morsel of information in a way that made it seem like she wasn't paying attention at all. But then, once the Captain prompted questioning, Czes' hand immediately shot up; the PUMA's slim claws splaying in mimicry of her real hand currently encased in the metal of her exosuit's forearm.

She had her helmet off for the moment, so she looked like a particularly long and noodley specimen in her agile exosuit. A specimen with a comically small head, at that. But that was typical for everyone in an exosuit, anyhow.

"Is the terrain good for long-distance sniping?" she asked, her slitted orange eyes darting over to the muddy holographic map and narrowing with focus. "I want to climb something. Or hang under something. If not, I'll hang back and see who I can unload on."

It was hard to tell if she was meaning to play along with the euphemism or not. Her facial expression certainly hadn't changed.

"Is mounting a heavy Warden a good idea for unloading into the enemy from on high?"

Nevermind. She was playing along.

Edited by Enirboreh on Feb 24th 2024 at 1:36:53 PM

Ursa — Smarter Than The Average Bear

Sitting next to Czech was a Bear. She was barely paying attention. She was listening, but that wasn't the same thing. She leaned back in her chair, hands holding her head, one eye closed shut as the other stared forward. She was large and in charge, dwarfing the others in sheer girth. They scratched their exo suit's stomach, little round ears and tail waggling, picking their teeth as they yawned.

"Need details. Terrain, resources, information. No details, no good."

Suddenly she sat to attention. She waved her hand in the air, shouting with enthusiasm.

"Mount me! Mount me! Bear Heavy! Bear best! Bear best for mounting."

Whether she was playing along or painfully earnest was hard to tell.

Edited by kkhohoho on Feb 24th 2024 at 11:03:00 AM

Diana Chanteau

I do not belong here with these career criminals.

The gent girl—the only gent in the squad—sat apart from the rest of her team. For several reasons, she did not belong here. For one, SELENE was not a suit that was particularly...er, suited for the 4th's style of combat—HELIOS was, but that wasn't the suit she had and it would be a while before she could switch between the two freely. For another...well, everyone here was far too aggressive. She had no idea what High Command was thinking, putting her in this order.

"Question," she said, holding up a finger. "Specifically related to me. Where should I be during this operation? SELENE isn't well-suited to open combat."

Diana suppressed an eye roll at the innuendo. Some people grow older, but never grow up, it seems.

Irae

With his helmet up, one could see Irae's placid expression. Utterly focused, despite heading to a warzone. One might almost think he was asleep, if his eyes weren't open.

Said eyes briefly flicked over to the only gent of their squad. His opposite, in many ways it seemed. "All suits are suited to open combat, if you know how to use them. That is why they exist. We would not be Wardens if we did not expect to fight."

His words were matter-of-fact. No hesitation or doubt existed in his voice. "Our orders are understood. We will eliminate the enemy and complete the mission. That is all."

Irae's helmet closed, and he crossed his arms over his chest as he examined his wrist-blades, retracting them in and out a few times to test the mechanism.

Vakare

Near the rear of the Glider, near the exit, was an fox-hybrid in an Exo-Suit that stood out due to the personal touches it had. A coat of blue paint across the plating, matching his hair, with accents of gold and a few flowy scraps of cloth draped over the back and waist. Hunched over in his seat, Vakare sat idly chewing on his E-Cig with his helmet and rifle cradled in his lap, having quickly lost attention in what the captain had been saying. It was simple anyways. Get in, shoot Zets dead, then get out or whatever. Further than that, he could always improvise. The innuendos made him roll his eyes. If these were anybody other than military folks, not people he was practically forced to work with, he would have played along.

Although, he couldn't wait to wipe the disdain off the faces of the veteran Wardens here who were complaining about babysitting Rookies. Like hell he was going to let them talk about him like that.

"Well, that sounds easy and all," He leaned back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other as he pulled out and fiddled with the stick in his mouth, one arm resting behind his head, a bit tough given the thicker armour of the AB-3L. "But how exactly are we taking down the artillery? I don't think any of us are packing that kinda firepower. Especially not the lighter suits. And how confident are we that it's just Imps and a Warrior detachment? Don't want any surprises, after all."

He drawled on, almost as if...bored. Still, there was a part inside him that was on edge, raring to go and storm out those doors and start blasting Zets into chunks.

Viktor

Not content to pay the innuendo-slinging teammates of his any mind, Viktor had been spending his time checking his weapon over, and even moreso his armor - a shrug here, a shift here, making sure it wasn't seizing up or had bad servos. Not that he expected it, of course - this was the Wardens, not the pits - but still, he wasn't about to lose his other arm to a jammed shoulder joint. It was only when Diana spoke up that he began paying close attention, given that chatter was at least not about fucking Zets, which was a step in the right direction.

"Tall and chitinous has the right idea. Use that knife of yours, get it between cracks in the armor."

With that comment, he turned his attention to Vakare - mostly just quietly scoffing at the arrogance in that first comment, and the drawling tone. It's not even as if he was wrong - but Viktor knew that tone all too well, and he didn't love the prospect of putting his life on the line beside someone like that.

Brigade Grav-Gilder A-556

Some laughter filled the stale air, as a few more crude jokes were flung about. One Warden approvingly knocked Czes on the armored shoulder, while others threw Sgt. Peréz a mocking look. "Oh, you got some funny ones, Peréz. Good luck with that!"

"Figg off...", mumbled the veteran Warden and sighed. He then glared at Czes and Ursa. "This is your first combat mission, so I suggest you pay attention, rather than wasting time with jokes. That goes for all of you!" He now let his eyes wander over the rest of his squad.

Cpt. Svenson nodded and tapped a button lightly. The screen above everyone's head flickered and a new layout appeared, now showing elevation, heat-levels and other geographical and atmospherical details. "These are AR-Ruins and ones that have a Z-Inhabitation Index¹ of a seven. So, expect uneven terrain and tons of Zet structures.", he explained, pointing out chitin structures around the broken space-elevator as an example.

"That means cover for the enemy and ambush-spots.", clarified Sgt. Peréz to Ursa. "Keep your head on a swivel."

"Luckily for us, we will drop behind the worst, so defenses will be comparatively light. The First Drop is drawing their attention right now, which means we shouldn't get too heavy resistance.", added Svenson. He then patted a metal-grey fusion-charge attached to his hip. "Once we set the beauties on the Molochs and blew them up, Commander Petras will go ahead with the other Drops. So, you know...no pressure!"

A rumble now echoed from outside and somewhere an explosion could be heard. The whole craft was shaking for a moment, as metal scraped against metal somewhere, before the noise slowly died off. Cpt. Svenson furrowed his brow and knocked on the door to the pilots cabin. "Report!"

"Lost Glider A-553 and A-552, sir. Heavy shell-impact, then collision during evasion.", came the unnervingly calm answer.

Svenson, by contrast, actually swore under his breath. Turning around to his brigade, he took a deep breath and then stomped torwards his own seat. "So much for the AA being knocked out. Figg it all."

Strapping himself in, he put his helmet on and his amplified voice echoed now through the room. "Get yourself ready, check your weapons! Breachers go first, Heavy Weapons provide covering fire, everyone else pick your targets and push!"

The Glider now started to descend at an angle and even the grav-engine couldn't conceal the increase in G-force now. The rumbling now intensified and one could hear several shells now impacting on the outside, ricocheting or exploding.

The Wardens all put on their helmets, with the hissing noise of sealed vents going off everywhere. No one was joking now.

"Alright, Squad! Get ready, we are coming in hot.", came the rough voice of Sgt. Peréz over the comms. The lights next to everyone's seat glowed red.

Then, they flipped to green and then floor opened up. The Exo-Suits were released and the Second Drop was underway.

¹Z-Inhabitation Index = An index meant for measuring Zet habitation of a given area and subsequent contamination. Ranges from 1 (very low concentration, short term presence) to 10 (extreme concentration, long term presence)

Edited by TheNohen on Feb 28th 2024 at 5:09:25 PM

Czes: It Wasn't Even That Funny

Czes hadn't even been laughing at her own innuendoes. She'd merely watched in bemusement as everyone else dragged them out and now she was being berated for being disruptive? She only gave the veteran Warden a blank stare before glancing judgementally at the one who had clapped her shoulder in mirth. Once it had all settled down again, she turned her attention to the display and scanned it with her eyes in order to assess the terrain and the description given by Svenson.

"I'll find some high ground and set up a nest near the objective. Then I'll keep ahead once we move on," Czes said, her ears perking at the sound of grinding metal and something detonating outside. She pursed her lips tightly when she heard the report that they'd already lost two vehicles. She then fitted her helmet into place, her ears tucking briefly to give herself room as the helm sealed to the neck of her suit with a pneumatic hiss. A short check of her sniper rifle later, and she was ready.

"Good luck," she said to any who would hear her, before the deployment intiated and she found herself falling through space. It took her a moment to process what was going on, and upon seeing the bombardment targeting their vessel, she began to perform agile twists and turns in midair in an effort to outmanoeuvre the artillery. Shockingly, she managed to do so without damage, though she got frighteningly close to a couple of explosions that gave her suit a slight singe at the edges. Once there was a small window of peace during the fall, she levelled herself out and tried to aim herself to land near a tall structure. If she could scale it and set up in a spot with a good angle, she could get to work in thinning the Zet numbers for her allies.

Diana

"SELENE is literally made for stealthy maneuvers, not big, dramatic shootouts. If you want firepower, you use HELIOS. ...I would be using HELIOS right now if I knew I'd be in the 4th, but..."

I can name only one other suit that uses melee combat, and you couldn't pay me to use that one.

Whatever. They were dropping, and no one cared what she had to say anyway. Diana sighed, put her helmet on, and then the floor dropped out from under them.

It took about a second for everything to go to hell.

The blasts of chitin came at them from all angles, and Diana gasped, ducking to protect her head from the worst of it. Most of the others weren't as fortunate; she watched suits be blasted apart, their pilots falling limply to Earth. They saw us—they knew we were coming, it was an ambush!

Gritting her teeth, Diana activated SELENE's stealth module, seemingly vanishing with a shimmer. If nothing else, she wanted to keep the Zets' fire off her.

Barely even started and we've lost half the squad...great. Just great...

Irae

He did not deign to respond to Victor's comment. Irae remained silent right up through the drop, landing and rolling into a crouch with practiced ease even as enemy fire roared around them.

Already his gaze darted this way and that, surveying the battlefield as he moved, ducking behind the nearest ruined structure that would provide cover, sustaining only a few light scratches from the spray of chitin projectiles.

Drawing his machine gun and raising it, he took aim at the nearest crowd of Zet and began to fire, spraying bullets from target to target with skill and utter focus. Every so often, when he spied a decent gap in the enemy's assault, he would charge forward, cover to cover, pushing closer to the elevator as ordered.

Viktor

In the moments before the floor dropped, Viktor briefly closed his eyes, taking a quiet deep breath to himself. Tensing, then releasing that tension. Just once. An old ritual, from his fighting days, that he carried with him into his new life. And then, the floor fell, and it was into the fray...

The moment his metal legs hit the ground, the hybrid hefted his gun, digging in his compensators. The shocks from each bullet were dispersed by the suit's technology, but still, he could feel it jolt with every shot down range, his aim guided by the helmet's display just moments ahead of his own arms swinging the weapon to match. Only for a few moments did he stick around, of course - the ENYO was built for many things, but to stand under heavy fire was secondary at best, and so as he felt a chitin-shard barely deflect off of the suit's shoulder, he knew it was time to seek cover, finding himself a shattered part of what may once have been a thick, load-bearing wall to settle behind, ducking out to lay down bursts of deadly suppressing fire in his team's favor.

Vakarė

The fox-hybrid gave a long sigh as the news came in that they'd already lost Gliders as the transport came under AA fire, affixing helmet to head. The targeting computer booted up, the HUD flickering into existence as the electronics synced up with the suit, the suit's eyes lighting up in cyan resolve. One last quick check. Battle rifle had a round in the chamber, no malfunctions in any major suit functions. Good, he was going to need that grapple line when the drop happened.

"So much for comparatively light defenses. Next you're going to tell me we're going up against more than Imps and Warriors. And that we didn't pack enough charges for the guns. Hope nobody bought lottery tickets today, I have a feeling they won't be winners." Dry, sarcastic wit, hidden behind the helmet's stern look as he hefted his rifle up into a ready position, taking his place for the drop. Despite his calm, tension coursed through his body like the adrenal blood pumped through his veins. 3...2...1...

Drop.

He came out blazing, using the advanced target acquisition of his suit to pepper the ground forces of the Zet with bullets as he fell. It wasn't accurate, but it would push them to cover. One Imp, however, got a bit ahead of itself, rushing out into the wrong side of cover, as if that would save it from the aerial barrage. An opportunity. With the confirmation beep of a successful lock, Vakarė's hand shot out towards one of the chitin-covered buildings, line firing out and hook embedding itself into the hard second-skin, and tensing as Vakarė reached the lowest point of his fall. He swung, momentum gracefully (for an Exo-Suit) preserved from his fall as he kicked his legs out, planting them firmly into the displaced Imp's head, bowling it over and crushing it underfoot as he tucked into a roll to break his fall and get behind cover. Strategic flanking position obtained, he popped out over the fallen debris, propping up his rifle as he started laying down powerful, thundering shots at the Zet, the high caliber rifle packing as much punch as its sound profile suggested. When a break in the line occurred, he advanced from cover to cover, never letting up on an aggressive push, laying down fire all the way.

"Move, move, move! Don't let up! Keep them on the back foot and us off our own!"

Drop-Zone - Elevator Ruins

Chitin-shards were flying everywhere. The sky above was marred by smoke-trails and incoming shells, which flew overhead to impact somewhere behind the lines. Some unlucky bastards were shot right out of the sky, as the Brigade made its Drop. Those that made it landed on the broken, concrete-shattered ground that was intersected by chitin like a smooth, lacquer-like growth.

These growths were everywhere, connected broken walls and plugging holes in structures. The Zet were prone to use existing infrastructure when they found it and using their own material to "repair" it for their own use. This resulted in a bizzare landscape where human architecture and alien-growths were fused into each other, the latter often creeping over the former like grasping vines.

An explosion rocked the Drop Zone. Stationed behind a hastily erected chitin-barricade stood a unit of Imps, which were loading a new, thorny-looking round into a pulsing, twitching, quadrupedal organism the size of a small car. On its back grew a big, mortar-like appendage. Black-blue plates covered its entire back and it had scorchmarks all over it. Once it was reloaded, the creature spasmed violently and shot.

Another explosion, as the shell impacted in between the Wardens. Someone was thrown off their feet. Shrapnel showered everyone nearby, with some ricocheting off Viktors sides. Then they finally were out of the open area and reached the broken walls of the elevator, just a few dozen feet away from the enemy lines.

"Report! Whats the status?", came it over the comms from Sgt. Peréz. He appeared next to Irae and pulled the Mutant to the side. Just in time, as a heavy-caliber shot just punched a hole in the cover he had used. Peréz cursed and fired back, forcing the Heavy Bio-Rifle team of two Imps to quickly scurry back into cover.

The Comms crackled and a bunch of muffled reports came in. Sgt. Peréz switched the open line off and messaged the squad. "Lost about twelve, it seems. Zet have dug in with five heavy weapon teams and a Mortar-Beast.", he summarized the reports for them. "Scans say we just hit the first line head-on. Couple hundred of them."

The enemy was undisciplined. A few Imps got excited, rushing from their positions. Vakarė and a few other Wardens punished them and mowed them down with precise fire. One of the bodies tumbled all the way to Irae and Viktor. The Imp still twitched, but was visibly dead.

The appearance was exactly how they had seen it in the briefing. Dark-blue, lacquer-like chitin plates covered the thing from head to toe. No sharp edges, just smooth curves and a skull that was covering almost everything aside from the lip-less, savage fangs. The flesh underneath almost black, instead of the more typical blood-red. Supposedly, the rounded out plates were an adaptation to increase the chance of deflection and ricochets. If so, it hadn't worked for this Zet, as two large holes had split its skull open and oozed with brain-matter and red blood.

The Mortar-Beast fired again and debris showered the Squads position. Walls were breaking down under the sustained fire of the Zet and soon the cover was going to crumble. Sgt. Peréz fired back, briefly leaning forward as return-fire came. The shards deflected off his EVA and he seamlessly reloaded and fired again, as if he done this a hundred times. "Where is Ursa!? We need heavy fire-support!", he shouted into the Comms.

A look over to shoulder to the Drop-Zone showed where she was. Her body lying there, head shattered by a freak AA-shell having hit her during the Drop. Peréz cursed again, but then pivoted.

"Alright, Vakaré, Diana! Flank the enemy position. Silence that Bio-Rifle or we are sitting ducks! Viktor, Irae! Covering Fire with me!", he barked his orders. Another shell just missed the squads position, again showering them with debris and shards. "Czes, kill that Mortar-Beast, now!"

Czes: I Have The High Ground

As soon as she landed, Czes had to perform a slaloming mad dash to avoid being killed instantly by the Mortar-Beast's stray rounds, despite it aiming primarily towards the Squads that were ducked behind the elevator ruins. She didn't have to look to know they'd lost people. She just focused on finding an elevated spot.

Narrowly dodging Imps left and right, she managed to clothesline one with a kick of her suit's powerful legs in order to clear a path towards a structure of decent height. An old security station, sturdy and tall, designed to act as a modest watchtower while also covering ground level. It wasn't the perfect sniping spot, but in the heat of battle, it was like a lovingly wrapped present.

Czes leapt up onto the side of it; the Puma's claws digging into any handhold it could find as it began crawling up the tower at a rapid pace. Hanging off of its side, Czes kept the majority of her body and exosuit behind the cover of the tower, peeking around with her rifle to spot the Mortar-Beast. Once she was locked into position, the order came through from Peréz over her comms, and she took careful aim for any kind of weak spot on the Mortar-Beast that she could see through her scope. Even if it meant...

An idea struck, and she shifted her aim towards the cannon of the Mortar-Beast. She paused, waiting until the Imps had loaded a new round into the barrel, before bracing herself against the tower and squeezing the trigger.

There was a loud -crack- as the sniper shot rang out, and the bullet barely skimmed the mortar round as it was being loaded inside. Despite the substandard hit, it still struck true enough to set the mortar off prematurely—and with a muffled boom and the sound of shredding flesh, the Mortar-Beast would find its fleshy interior suddenly ruptured with shrapnel; the explosive force splaying the cannon's barrel like a blossoming flower. While it wasn't enough to kill the Imps nearby, the force was considerable enough to likely knock them back from the dead beast.

Czes reloaded her rifle, turning her attention now to picking off some of the Imps surrounding her tower as well as the Imps assaulting the elevator ruins.

"Mortar's gone boom, sir," she reported in a dry tone. "Anything else I can do for you today?"

Edited by Enirboreh on Mar 10th 2024 at 2:41:05 PM

Diana

This was a disaster. Twelve dead and they were barely ten seconds in. Diana wanted to scream, but that wouldn't help anything. Really, it'd just make a bigger mess, since she was invisible and screaming would give it away.

Instead, she just did what she was told.

She slipped out from behind cover, the Zets barely taking heed of her because again, invisible, and crept across the battlefield up to where the Bio-Rifle was located. Diana drew her knife, stepped closer—

—and stabbed the Zet manning it between the chitin.

Irae

Aim. Fire. Move. Repeat. Irae moved as if in a trance, focused on the enemy above all else.

He almost didn't catch the Zet taking aim at him. If Peréz hadn't pulled him aside, that shot certainly would have hit him dead-on.

"Thank you." He said, utterly calm. Then, when orders were given, he responded with a simple "Affirmative", and took point with Peréz, lighting up the imps closer to the mortar to give Czes breathing room for her own mission.

After the mortar exploded, the mutant soldier continued to push forward, implacable in the face of his enemies, like a killing machine.

He may not have the agility or tricks of his squadmates, but the one thing Irae had in spades was determination.

Viktor

Viktor barely noticed the corpse tumbling at his feet between bursts of high-caliber fire - only distracted from his intermittent task as he heard the orders from Peréz. Covering fire. That, he could do. He barked out a 'yessir' among the noise of the battlefield, and emerged fully from his cover once again. Weapon leveled at the Zet lines, he felt a moment's anticipation, like a spring winding up - an instant, in real time, though it felt like almost a second, from his eyes finding targets, to the squeeze of the trigger. He didn't let go, this time, of course - suppressive fire was no time for bursts and moderation, or, so he would likely justify it down the line. In the moment, it simply stopped crossing his mind - the gun's cooling systems, recoil absorption, ammo feeds, all were designed to be able to handle continuous fire, and handle it, they did, drowning out so much of the sound around him with the rhythm of gunfire and the thunk-thunk-thunk of the recoil dampeners sending each gunpowder shock into the ground.

Vakare

The call came for Vakare to flank and silence the Bio-Rifle team as he ducked behind cover yet again to avoid a spray of shattered chitin, cursing under his breath. He loaded a fresh magazine into his rifle, the empty one safely deposited out of easy hand's reach on his suit. Didn't want to accidently load that one in the heat of things, even as he slung the rifle's strap around his shoulder and let it hung by his side.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it. Gimme a sec."

He took a deep breath, before breaking out of cover into a sprint, the rapid thudding of his suit's footsteps being all he focused on as he dodged and weaved through enemy fire. A few shards glanced off his armour plating's edge, just barely. As a Medium suit, he couldn't quite output the speed of its lighter counterparts, but he certainly appreciated that he wasn't in a Heavy as he raced towards flanking cover. On the home stretch, an Imp jumped out into his path. No time to think, no time to reach for the rifle, and it wasn't the range. His sidearm sprung to his hand, firing shots into its face, distracting it long enough for him to lunge-flying tackle the Zet, bringing the full weight of his suit and its momentum to bear. They tumbled over into cover, knife already in hand as he swiftly and efficiently brutalized its head with both knife stabs and point blank handgun shots. He didn't want that gunk inside them getting over his visor. With the Imp dispatched, he swiveled up against cover, poking out and propping his rifle on it, taking aim at the team manning the Bio-Rifle. As Diana revealed herself and started to shank the unsuspecting Zet, the Fox-Hybrid capitalized on this. Bursts of thunderous fire cracked the air, and the Imps began to fall, perforated by high-caliber death.

Click, click

Right, no time to reload. He had to disable that Zet weapon for good. It was over there, he was over here. A plan quickly brewed. Standing up completely, he shot out his hand, activating the grappling hook. The line shot out, the end punching through the Bio-Rifle and embedding itself firmly into it as he engaged the hook so that it wouldn't simply slip out. With a slight tug to engage the reel, the Bio-Rifle, being lighter than the Suit (and especially with the extra leverage as Vakare dug his heels in), flew towards the Fox-Hybrid.

"Yes...!"

As it got within arm's reach, he grabbed it, breaking it swiftly with elbow and knee. Not pretty, not even satisfying on a technical level, but it was out of the fight permanently.

"All done. No Imps are going to be using that thing anymore." He ducked back behind cover, providing flanking fire to keep the heat off Diana. Damn melee Suits, always having to get into the thick of things.

Elevator-Ruins

Explosions rung out all across the battlefield, as the mortar-beast were going down one by one. As if Czes shot had been figuratively the signal, left and right Wardens were taking out the defending heavy weaponry. One Heavy-Suit charged in and unloaded his shoulder-mounted scatter-grenades, blasting several meters of Imps in front of him into pieces. Another EVA-clad Warden methodically gunned down the Imps before him, before climbing onto a mortar-beast and emptying his entire clip into the back of its head. Cpt. Svenson himself was taking a blast from a bio-rifle from close-range, the round just barely deflecting off his shield, before he buried two precise hand-cannon shots into the enemies skulls.

Squad Peréz was the first one to clear their immediate field. The Sergeant gestured for Viktor and Irae and together the three of them closed up on Vakaré and Diana's position. They were surrounded by corpses. After mounting the barricades, they could see that the Imps were retreating from their position, now that they had been taken by the Wardens. Hundreds of them dashed across the broken, ruin-littered ground and tried to make it to the next line. Dozens of them got gunned down before they made it.

"Reload and press on. We can't stick around.", ordered Sgt. Peréz, ejecting the clip from his rifle and slotting in a new one.

He was right, of course. The Zet had built the barricades to only defend into one direction. Now, they were open in the back, meaning that any enemy taking them left himself vulnerable to a counter-charge or incoming fire. And although the fortifications had been hastily erected, they had slowed the Wardens down a precious few minutes. Already, Czes could see from her position that a second group of Imp-Teams took position further up ahead on a ridge.

Most of them were now holding Chitin-Blasters, bulging, multi-barreled muscle-ejectors that could lay down withering fire. But there were also some Shard-Blasters among them, ready to unload their large barrels like a prehistoric grapeshot barrage.

Suddenly, shots came her way. The ferrocrete¹ around her cracked, as rounds punched into it. A particulary close shot missed her by an inch or two and actually skimmed her shoulder. A look quickly confirmed the guilty party.

A big warrior, lugging around a huge bio-cannon that grew out of his shoulder. Pulsing vein-like tubes connected it to a plated, engorged rear, giving him a pronounced hunchback. An Igor-Variant². Already the veins pulsed, as they pumped a new heavy-caliber round into his weapon and he started to aim at her once more.

"Forward! Get to the second line! We have to take that ridge, before they fully organize a response!", came it over the comms from Cpt. Svenson.

Already several Wardens stormed over the open ground. Close to a hundred meters of open ground. Something that could be covered in a few seconds. Several seconds of unopposed enemy fire.

Several seconds between life or death.

¹Ferrocrete = Standard building material before the Collapse. Very resistant to weathering and highly stable. Prohibitely expensive to reproduce and now only found in Ruins. Gets scavenged and can be broken down again into its liquid form. Highly priced among building-companies.

²Igor-Variant = An uncommon variation of the Warrior. Exchanges multi-limb weaponry in favour of two-limb heavy-weapon capacity, which enables it to field weaponry usually used by armored organisms or Knights. Produces its own ammo in its hunchback.

Edited by TheNohen on Mar 20th 2024 at 8:02:00 PM

Diana

Right. Keep moving. Got it.

Which, between all the firing, was much easier said than done. There was no way for Diana to get close enough to stab them, not without being torn to shreds. So instead, she simply kept her stealth module on and moved towards the second line.

This suit was not made for the 4th...

Irae

As he pushed the line, Irae crouched down a brief moment and came up holding a Zet-corpse, one of his armblades crudely shoved into the creature's back to support it's dead body. He held it before him as a meatshield, as he fearlessly charged across a hundred meters of open ground.

His other hand brought up his rifle, unleashing counter-fire at any enemy he could see. Firing one-handed meant his accuracy was reduced, but the sheer numbers of the enemy made that less of an issue.

A hundred meters. Ninety. Eighty. Enemy fire rattling his makeshift shield.

Advance. He told himself. Keep. Moving. Forward.

Viktor

A hundred meters of death between him and cover. It would have been natural to be afraid of death - but Viktor was far from it. Not with adrenaline pumping through his veins, a high he was all too familiar with. There was scarcely hesitation as he started across the stretch, his steady run unbroken as he laid down walking fire against any enemies that crossed his field of view - he didn't cross fast, of course, this much was as expected from a heavy suit, but he made sure any imps that tried their luck against him and his squad would find themselves staring down the barrel of his weapon.

Vakare

"Greeeeeaaaat, a suicide run towards an Igor." Vakare sighed as he loaded a fresh magazine into his rifle after he finished mowing down the Imp weapon crew and some more Zets as he advanced. The big bug was a priority target, and he had just the idea to make things easier.

"Alright, deep breaths." He let the chaos of the battlefield fade away around him as best he could, laser focused on the encircled spot on his HUD that signaled the perfect spot to fire at according to his targeting computer. Now he would just need the skill to hit it. He dived to the ground, bracing the rifle on the ground below and steadying it against his shoulder, arm pressed down on the barrel to help control the recoil even more. He could feel his heartbeat, hear his breaths whisper in his helmet. Too much deviation, too off the mark, vision obscured by dust and smoke. Steady...steady...this was a big gun, with an equally big kick...closer...closer...the reticule blinked as his Hybrid senses made this all pass by so slowly in his memory, inching closer and closer to the bright pinprick target painted by the computer. A moment, the clearest shot he felt he could get. Now or never. He held a breath and squeezed.

The rhythmic burst of shots against his shoulder and the ground was all he felt as high caliber rounds perforated the Igor's ammo-back, leaving it hanging just barely by a few strands before finally shredding the last bindings as it gets blasted it away. The cacophony of battle came rushing back as he took a breath again, leaving not a moment to spare as he got to his feet and started sprinting, going back to firing at Zets as he advanced, thankfully much safer now that the biggest threat wasn't going to blow him into giblets.

Czes: Oh F$#K

Well, her position was compromised. Czes did her best to duck behind the tower as the rounds blasted through it, but once she got skimmed in the shoulder by one of the rounds, she knew it was a fruitless effort. She needed to move, and Captain Svenson's orders emphasised this. So, after taking a few last potshots towards enemy lines, she leapt safely down from the tower and full-tilt sprinted towards her allies, and specifically Viktor. Normally, it'd be stupid to approach a heavy suit, even on one's own side, given the amount of attention they tended to draw towards them. But Czes needed cover, and hiding behind a friend was the only real chance her fragile light suit had of surviving this ordeal: and in turn, her.

"Hey!" she chirped to Viktor as she ducked and all but hid behind him, matching his pace as she occasionally popped up over his shoulder to take pot shots at faraway Imps, while he dealt with the threats immediately around them. "Sorry! Need cover! Keep charging, I'll pick off the stragglers!"

Honestly, she was expecting to die at this point. A full-on charge was a gamble at best, but she couldn't lie that this would be an awesome way to go. Still, with fear and adrenaline fuelling her, she was probably fighting at her best. Her sniper was practically burning at the tip with how rapidly she was firing it, and she was tucked up so tightly behind Viktor that she was practically hugging him. A sudden thought crossed her mind, and she decided to share it over the comms.

"Can we modify the heavy suits to have cubbies in the back for us little guys?" she asked with a grin in her voice; a rare giddy enthusiasm taking over her in the midst of the battle. "'Cause this is kinda fun!"