It was the final straw. The camel's back broke. So on, so forth - the end.
Energy barriers were completely, utterly depleted as the members of Squad 13 fought against the sheer numbers of thralls, lances of energy finally splashing against the ellipsoid shields mounted upon their forearms as they instinctively raised them against the scorching beams. Even still, armor plate was heated, boiled and vaporized as the occasional shot made it through.
But even then, they all kept on fighting.
Seven millimeter gauss rounds punched clean holes through bodies, smashing through ceramic plate and bodies of several, while rapid fire pulses of energy blasted away chunks of flesh and sinew. Their combined fire finally cut through the ranks and mowed them down like nine pins before smashing the large 35mm autocannons. When the last thrall finally fell, there was complete, utter silence in the trench as the floor became wet and muddy with blood.
"Crunch, plop, crunch," went someone's footsteps.
"Minor, superficial damage to your suits and equipment. It's acceptable enough," the smallest of their group remarked. The ever aloof Sif stepped in between, across, over, on top of bodies as she made her way to the center of the group. Bending low, she reached into one of the side passages of the trench and pulled out a plastic drum - popping off the lid and turning it upside down, the drinking water inside cascaded down the lithe power armor and washed it white again.
Her suit started out pigmented red, but ended up painted crimson.
"Check the bodies, make sure they're all dead. And then sitrep - I want everyone's condition. No exceptions to the thralls," the Mini-Neko sternly ordered, tossing aside the canister without a care. "Nekovalkyrja - notify Nakamura, Jackson or myself immediately while keeping a gun well aimed." She then reached down, prying one of the particle rifles out of a still-warm but dead hand, briefly examining it. "Afterwards, you may take a rifle if you so wish considering the quality control of this batch appears to be acceptable - they are good weapons so long as that is the case," she remarked, casting the oft overlooked NMX equipment over her shoulder without a care with nothing more than a flick of the wrist. Needless to say, it incidentally smacked an unawares Zozo.
"These are your basic orders from me - Nakamura will give you more detailed instructions in regards to our movements," Sif spoke flatly. Leaping out of the trench with a graceful bound, her suit vanished mid-air like a spirit.
The non-stop meatgrinder of a trench had finally stopped grinding.