The Pit, Flooded Carrier
Candon was more than surprised to see an ocean follow him into the carrier, the wave threw him to the rear of the Mecha staging area with enough force to cause his active camouflage system to shut down and recalibrate. The torrent stopped as the bay doors closed leaving himself and several dozen personnel picking themselves up out of knee high water. Candon was the last one to stand up, now surrounded by a horde of unpleased, but equally confused hostiles. A moment's hesitation passed with the mass of faceless combatant trying to decide whether they should attack the heavily modified Anthedon.
Candon, however didn't hesitate. He had no trouble identifying the creepy constructs as hostile combatants. Beams of ultra-compressed gravity stretched out from Spectre's arms as shafts of distorted, twisted light and swept across his foes. Meat and bone became projectiles, as the pure kinetic force accelerated fist-sized diameters across the bodies with tremendous velocity.
The effects transformed the opponents into paint across the now heavily scarred walls
A brave young pilot fired his pistol desperately as he dashed for his M3. Extending his left arm, Spectre created a gravity field that stopped the bullets in their tracks and left them hanging, suspended in the gravity field.
Candon thought it was interesting that of all the faceless crew this pilot had a face, a young face. No tears would be shed as he removed the cannon of a rifle from his back. The young blond-haired man leapt swiftly into the cockpit of the M3, but it would serve not protection as a uranium slug exploded through the side of the cockpit.
The armored soldier jumped down from the side of the mecha. With a top speed of Mach 4 there was no contest, Spectre had pounced on the walking tank almost instantly to stop the pilot from activating his shields, the only thing that would stop his point-blank shot through a joint.
'Next up, reactor room.'
The Dove
"Lets get Spacecase and Candon then bail." Uso said, before tapping her datapad to put the two of them on the line, "Can you two meet up with the dove on the edge of the pit?"
"Copy that," Candon replied, standing kinda sideways to account for the listing of the ship as he removed a wireless hacking tool from the hyperspace tap control room's computer, but to the eye he wasn't even there as his cloaking system was back to being good. In the background the sound of hyperspace taps whining became noticeable. If the program was successful the meltdown and explosion would make the ship irreparable, maybe even have a blast that wrecks the adjacent ship. As long as the program did it's job he wasn't concerned, he had less than a minute to be gone before he would share the ship's fate.
Moving quickly through the halls Candon gunned down enemies before they could even think to look in his direction, his
R36 spitting lead into the hearts of the soft-shelled shipboard personnel as he swiftly cruised the halls until reaching the mecha staging area he'd entered.
The deck was closed off until a pair of missiles left the shoulder mounted launchers to blast the corner of the bay door open.
The Pit, Surface
Spectre emerged from the surface of the new lake explosively, but still invisibly. Water trailing off the cloaked figure betrayed only it's presence as it flew to rendezvous with The Dove. Seeing Hazel's fighter flying off wouldn't mean as much to Candon as it would the others but seeing as it was the only aerodyne the man couldn't help but take his GSR back in hand and start lighting off rounds. While many people would have a greater tendency to miss such a target Candon was just the opposite. Years of being a sniper and power armor 'jet fighter' had made him more that experienced to nail such a shot consistently. With the assistance of his GPDs to stabilize his rifle to perfection Candon began firing at will, as many times as possible until the proximity alert warning began reminding him to land on the ship he was approaching.
Decelerating into the cargo bay the experienced PA operator didn't land so much as he just put his feet down and started walking inside. But the job wasn't done until they got away. Swapping into a fresh mag, he took a position to cover the bay door.
"I'm in," he commed in, as his cloak would make it hard to tell. A little dated, but cloaking technology really hadn't changed over the years. Being completely invisible was as good to him as shielding, it always seemed to give him that split second he needed to get the first hit on a mark.
