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RP: Die Screaming [ Die Screaming] Civil War.

Armoury
"They might appreciate it more if it comes from one of their own," Lupin suggested, rationing tombstone m3 magazines between his own kit and Molotra's extra cargo space accordingly, slotting in magazines alongside a now standalone flamethrower salvaged from a ruined zarcnam - something he'd quickly cobbled together for her based on the 'spacer's suggestion when they first came into contact with these bipedal bugs.

"If it comes to it I'll drop them like anyone else who has gotten in our way, but it's one way to save some ammo for more deserving targets," the marksman's monotone voice continued, adding an over-stuffed backpack to his Golem suit as his helmeted head cast a cold glance across to Francis, the same one he'd given her when she was bleeding out in that snowy trench and refusing help.

"Either way, this is going to be... interesting," Lupin finished, loading a bulbous drum magazine into his rifle as he moved to make final preparations. His customized Golem's chest was dominated by two layers of magazines for his M3, interspersed with medical gear and his holstered .45 with a few extra magazines of its own. Weighing down his back was a standard issue field pack that looked like it was about to burst at the seams, loaded with rations and extra ammo to top up his magazines should the opportunity present itself, but more attention-grabbing was the anti materiel rifle strapped to one side and the selection of magazines to keep it well fed.

Should the shield not work, and should he survive the initial impact, Lupin had enough gear on his person to comfortably last a week - and that was without considering what he could take from the others~

Deck
Lupin didn't flinch as he watched Caffran vent his frustrations, sidling up next to Ria with an obnoxiously-branded can of energy drink in one hand while the other rummaged through his labyrinth of pouches, faceplate hanging limply from one side of his helmet.

"It'd probably turn your forearm to dust and jelly, even through your Golem, not to mention whatever is floating around in its saliva" he spoke unceremoniously, producing two stim injectors that were quickly jabbed into the side of the can, Lupin draining them into the can before cracking it open, draining the unholy concoction in one swig before crushing the can.

"Pike Kennedy, you might have heard that somewhere. Sorry to hear you've been lumped into this whole mess," Lupin formally introduced himself with a nod down towards Ria, standing a healthy 6'3" to her 5'7", before sealing his faceplate up once more - stowing the crushed can in his magazine drop pouch.

"Stay Lucid and you'll be alright, things tend to turn to shit around us," Lupin finished, his amused exhale coming through his helmet as more of a metallic rasp while his eyes scanned what little they could discern beyond the edges of the self-heated deck.
 
Flight Deck

A strange resistance took Tsar at the last moment before he hit the shuttle as a barely discernable shimmer of light flashed followed by his grin as Caffran was able to take not of the personal-scale shield. It had winked out as soon as he hit the shuttle so it was easy to surmise that it traded power for survivability to likely mitigate damage or stop that single life-ending round.

Tsar for his part said nothing but offer his head in placation and barely so much as flinching even as Caffran whirred away just in time to knock aside the muzzle of one of Tsars men who had been pointing it at the back of Caffs head just a moment before.

The horse-sized dog either reading its master calm or just not reacting only squinted against the wind with its nose in the air taking in the smell of ozone from the newly activated starship. Straightening his coat and armor Tsar waved off his men who took up to simply trying to look as menacing as possible despite being a third again smaller and twice as underarmed as any of the marines in their Golem armor let alone Molotra.

"No hard feelings" Tsar shouted over the wind as if he had not just been threatened even as Francis spit in his general direction with her faceplate off only to recoil as the wind shot it back at her and flash-froze it to her cheek as she began rubbing the ice spittle off.

"Time is short so we can brief en-route; When you're ready, sergeant?" Tsar motioned to the open of the three shuttles as two new marines came running up each in their own Golem armor emblazoned with the skull and sawbones of the NYRDs SAW corps support department.

"Skipper said scalpel jockeys arent much use if the ship gets ghosted by the bugs so he sent us to die with you lot!" A female voice came over the proximity comm, the HUD labeling the vocal marine as PFC Holyman and the other as a private Kastanava, the latter with the telltale mods to her Golem helmet of unorthodox ears some mutants or Anthros had. Still clearly not to capacity in his shuttle the mercenary commander simply gestured to everyone inside the shuttle and out of the cold.

Shuttle

With the pull of defying gravity the shuttle had taken off with the entire squad in it even Molotras new bulk despite some issue getting her actually inside of the shuttle from the ground it had a convenient back ramp due to the shuttle variant being more intended for bulk transport than passengers.

"While I know time is of the essence." Tsar bad broken the tense silence as he sat on his massive dog like it was a beanbag chair to which it barely noticed other than to nudge the back of his head with its considerable snoot. "I should like to broach the possibility of diplomacy with Borok and his men before your marines start shooting up the local militia, Sergeant." Tsar broached the subject as if he was the most reasonable one in the shuttle before clearly mistaking a lot of their glares the wrong way and continuing.

"When we have arrived at our destination we will have the better part of an hour to get to the central command facility and get your techs from our other shuttle inside and to work. We can hardly afford to get bogged down or delayed fighting a protracted firefight against Borok Kuzynetski who is more than likely to know our destination if not our objective. I have a convoy of my men-" The shuttle rocked violently with turbulence as the windows all went dark as it flew through a massive plume of smoke originating from a fire burning at least twenty stories of the side of a skyscrapper even as tracers still flashed occasionally on the ground as the purge of the Myrm continued.

"En-route from our fortress to the southeast to block any reaction from the Kuz fort to the west; But in the chaos in the city with the invaders still being dragged out of their hiding spots it's more than likely they wont make it in time before our deadline hits and we'll have to make our way to them to exfiltrate if we run out of time."

"So do I get to shoot this guy now, before he does something clearly to screw us over or..."
Francis glared directly at Tsar, her tone as serious as it came even with the flick of her shotguns safely to which Tsar did not react but met her level gaze.

"Stow that shit." Corporal Havoc growled before anyone else could speak up as she stared down Francis who a moment later turned her gaze in acquiescence to the NCO then gave them all a good once over with the same penetrating glare all non-coms learned at some point.

"Don't know what you think you been through and I don't care but you lot better start acting like marines instead of smart-aleck thugs. Cause if they stuck a bunch of insubordinate- Undisciplined-" The corporal went on right until the shuttle shook again and a rising feeling started in all of their stomachs as the shuttle began a descent manuever.

"Rules of engagement apply. But you go murderin anyone on my watch and the wardens will have to scrape what's left of any of you into a paper bag after i'm done-" Two of Tsars mercs rose then and moved over to the side door of the shuttle and pulled it open as sound and cold of the sharp wind cut off the corporals disciplining as the sight of megascrapers flew by and above them as the shuttles began lowering and circling around a 560-story tall megascraper that flared out at the base in a large brutalist foundation and government looking building that could only be their target.

Taking over a minute to fly the circumference of the admin hall no shots came up at them even as they lowered closer to the ground before slowing and the shuttle hovered a good eight feet off the ground as the same two mercs that opened the door jumped down first followed by Tsars massive Borzoi and then the man himself with a jaunty salute at them.

Ground Level - 65 Minutes until mission abort.

The three shuttles unloaded some 30 mercenaries, six NAM technicians, Four suits of local-made impulse-knockoff powered armor, and twelve marines in a parking lot almost twenty-acres in size filled to the brim with close to a thousand vehicles total filling at least a quarter of the spots mostly closer to the admin hall. There was a large ramp leading underground close to a hundred meters away with security barriers and a cordon around it to keep civilian vehicles away with two NPF Outrider APCs still parked outside of it with purple and white lights flashing in warning despite no officers being around and likely having evacuated with the planetary commisioner.

Looming above them and blotting out the sun to leave most of the parking lot in the shade was the foundation of the admin hall which was a soft pattern of micro-dimples across its surface made to make climbing up it extremely difficult as well as protect against explosives. At fifty-meters of pure reinforced duracrete the foundation acted primarily to protect the underground facilities like the bunker and command centers safe from starship grade weaponry. Towering tall enough to get obscured in the clouds the sharp angles of the admin halls megascraper towered imposing and despite its size was entirely administration and not housing as it operated tens of thousands when at capacity in the running of an entire planets administration.

Just at one corner of the foundation was a flight of stairs wide enough for a maximus main battle tank to drive up and was likely almost six hundred steps to the top. Sitting at spaced interavals at the top of the stairs and spaced thirty to forty meters across were several bunkers of the same material as the foundation with murder-holes to fire from but no inclination if they were manned or not.

ds ahall.webp
 
Ground Level, Conveniently in the Back

Quilly Ash, the demolitionist-chemist-gunslinger angel (of gambling and violence), was definitely packing... Eccentrically. Her usual favorite selection of explosive devices was brought along, albeit modified for the situation. While the little shit of a bird had no qualms about leveling most buildings, she'd recognized the importance of keeping this one (mostly) intact, and the high-yield stuff was brought along in low quantities. Three handfuls of smokes and a quarter-dozen scalars filled the extra room she now had in her kit. The Gjallahorn, of course, came with, as did a .45 Handgun and, oddly enough, two medical kits.

Molo's offer to mule helped Quilly take this much with confidence, and she was quite thankful for that. Quilly had also chosen to bulk her chestplate up with the Durandalium Secondary layer, skimping on the arms and legs instead to find a comfortable balance of weight and protection. With the hallways being, probably, built for basically freaking space bears she figured that there might be just enough room to fly inside.... At least sometimes.

Quilly was quiet for most of the briefing, however she also prepared a little somethin' somethin' - some thermite, ready to ignite.
 
Armory

Avery had joined the rest of the group in raiding the armory and did so with barely contained gusto, the natural kleptomaniac finally getting the chance to get an additional piece of slug-throwing power in her kit should she need it. It'd be added bulk, but weight wasn't really all that big of a problem for her, she was used to hefting heavy objects around and using them to deliver death in a timely fashion. She didn't want to be caught with just a Pistol as a side-arm, and if need be, she'd rather have a rifle as her back-up and save the handgun as her last resort.

She found, and grabbed, an M3, striping the weapon down to just the basics. No stock, and she would swap the barrel for a shorter one with her quick hands having disassembled the weapon and allowed her to replace the barrel within a matter of moments. Then she found a sling, and would attach the rifle to it, the loop going over her shoulder and the weapon then resting against her side. She grabbed four magazines, five total with the one in the gun, and once she was satisfied she had what she needed, she stepped to the side and would give her equipment another glance, while the anthro listened to the others around her having their conversation.

She knew at least that if, and perhaps when they did encounter resistance, they'd at least be all well armed and ready to meet it.
And she felt as Caffran did about the politicians.
To hell with them.

Deck

Avery joined the rest of the unit out on the deck, though as she made her way along, she'd accidentally bump Haisely with her weapon, uttering a "Sorry" as he pulled it closer to her side by the strap, and tightened it so that it wouldn't be able to move as far out. When they saw the pilot she immediately developed a feeling that something about them was off, and the vibe of the team would rather quickly confirm that when they would see Caffran go in on them. She stepped forwards some, about to intervene, though the situation would be defused before it became overtly necessary.

Above all she wanted to just get this done with. The faster the fighting was over the quicker she could feel secure in her place in the world as "Extant, for today" and not "for now".
Come the briefing she simply absorbed the information, and kept her mouth closed.

After the Shuttle Ride

Avery's eyes were fixated on the bunkers at first, waiting to be fired at from them. This parking lot was filled with wreckage and she wasn't deeply enthused by the idea that all they had was cars to hide behind if they were opened up on from the murder-holes. But so far there was nothing, either they were holding their fire until they were closer, or there was no one in there. Perhaps friendlies too, but that seemed unlikely. She had her machine gun shouldered, barrel aimed down range as she got behind the engine block of a nearby abandoned vehicle, waiting for anything, scanning the structure.
 
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Park the Car in the Stenkagorad Yard

Tobias didn't like the look of the approach to the admin building now that he'd had a first-hand glance at it. It was hardened, as one would expect of a Kuz building on the Nepleslian frontier, but those firing ports and bunkers would make any kind of direct approach a bloodbath unless they got lucky, got Borok's men to stand down, or both.

Cars would provide adequate cover from antipersonnel weapons, but that would only last until they made it close to their goal; the second level of the garage and the barracks within where they could disable the JANE that barred the group's progress further down. Those guns had to be kept silent one way or another, either by diplomacy or by ensuring they were never manned.

He looked to Tsar and Caffran. "If there was a time for you or the sergeant to reach out and appeal to Borok's better nature, self-interest, or anything else, now would be the time." He stated as he began to reach out digitally to the wireless systems of the precinct, seeking entry through one of the numerous wireless ports used for communication with the rest of the city. <<You might want to start feeling out the local infospace. This battle is going to be hard enough to win through force alone.>> He sent to Molotra. Having two pairs of eyes on the situation would be better than just having one, after all.

Once he'd found purchase, Tobias began to examine the internal camera networks of the precinct and garage levels, hoping to gain a better understanding of the disposition, number, and location of any current or potential hostiles.
 
Haisely followed along with the crowd for the most part, shooting an unseen glare at being bumped into under the dark faceplate of her Photon helmet which turned slowly towards Avery. She would remember this

Once the whole team had assembled in the parking lot the hacker kept herself out of the front line, without the same neural capacity as others on the team she couldn’t start weaving her way into the network without her equipment. The nepcat had a laptop style device strapped to her back but it wouldn’t be very helpful out here in the carpark potentially getting shot at.

”Well, this sure looks doable, can’t wait.” She mumbled to herself while looking over the holstered pistol and making sure she had enough ammo on her for the time being. Using her helmet HUD combined with cybernetic eyes Haisely also set a tag on Molo to make sure she didn’t loose sight of the spacer with the goods.
 
Svodog
Stenkogorad Starport
NSS Anemone Armory


Though Masato hadn’t properly suited up for combat since that first mission of his back onboard the good ship Ryūjō, the basic fundamentals were the same - save, of course, for the fact that all of his gear was inside an extremely durable-looking cargo container that sported Star Army markings and several biometric locks (and given how insanely paranoid SAINT is, thought the engineer to himself, a hidden bomb or three to keep things out of Nepleslian hands. Anyways...)

A few thumbprints satisfied the aforementioned biometric locks, revealing the container’s contents; a few minutes’ worth of inventory management (and associated character animations) later, and the individual known as Matokai Masato was fully suited up in a winter camo-patterned Type 41 Hardsuit, with a fully-loaded Type 33 Rifle in his arms and a very full Type 41 Backpack on his back. After closing the now-empty (save for an Emrys toolkit whose contents had been transferred into the previously-mentioned backpack and the environmental the Minkan had been wearing previously) cargo container back up, Masato verified the safety on his weapon was armed, then slung said weapon over his shoulder and left the room with everyone else - pointedly ignoring Molotra’s request/offer/thing in doing so, but politely (and silently) paying attention to rest of his squadmates as they conversed about various things.

Freespacers, after all, couldn’t be trusted - not when they, according to the Yamataian media Masato had grown up on, were all just a bunch of terrorists, hackers, and thieves.

NSS Anemone Hangar

Masato - who as an engineer had been happily soaking up the background ambience of a starship slowly rousing from a deep slumber - was caught completely off-guard by Caffran slamming the Tsar into the side of the shuttle, practiced-hones instincts causing the Minkan’s hand to be halfway through the process of drawing his sidearm (the tried-and-true Type 33 Nekovalkyra Service Pistol, of course) before he realized what he was doing. What the Empress-!

Then the Type 41 “Kabuto” Helmet’s internal speakers relayed Caffran’s words to the Shoi’s ears - and everything suddenly made a lot sense. Ah, right, him. As the kami would likely agree, karma is a-oh, is that a personal barrier? Fascinating!

Then the incident was over, and the engineer followed everyone else into the snow-glazed shuttle with a shrug. Shame I couldn’t due that to those pompous bureaucrats at the hearing…

Paradise Paved, now a Parking Lot

With a frown - concealed by his helmet’s faceplate, unfortunately - the Star Army representative surveyed the bleak, snow-dusted example of civilization in front of him; though he didn’t know much about ground combat save for what he’d been taught in basic all those years ago, he knew enough to recognize that a frontal assault across what amounted to an open field with zero cover was tantamount to suicide. Hmmmm…. let’s see…

“Though this isn’t exactly my area of expertise, might I suggest using the shuttles to provide covering fire with their twin plasma turrets as we advance? Obscuring the unsuppressed bunkers with smoke grenades would also be wise, providing the building’s external cameras can be disabled - though I’m sure disabling them won’t be too difficult for Haisely-san.”
 
Still half-unhelmeted, Molotra's icy blue eyes stared out into empty space during most of the flight over. For once, it wasn't them leaving reality behind for the combfertable abode of their internal cyberspace connection, but rather the good old fashioned human retreat of intense brooding. She was distinctly aware of the shadow of great towers passing over her from the veiwports, but her mind's eye was stuck analazing the moment Caffran struck Tsar's personal sheild... What exactly was the activation mechanism? Was it manual or did it respond to a feild of microsensors?... Was it time to finally upgrade one of their eyes, so they could get better data on situations like this?...

Tobias' prompt snapped them out of their concenrated neurosis. Masato pushed it further by making them consider exactly how Haisley was going to react, once they started getting shot at.

<"Sure, I'm already on it."> She lied. <"Bit late, but if the catgirl wouldn't mind spoofing all thirty four of the overlooking building's cameras too, I'd... appreciate it!...">

They knew it was going to be a pain in the ass. She wondered if the Yam had the processing power to help out with that one, too.

Clipping on their battle bowler and rolling out onto the concrete, the first thing that struck the ammo carrier was how much they wanted a Maximus to drive up that stairway.

Their mindware reflexively reached out for signs of coms chatter, rolling through several frequencies at once in rapid sequence. Even if they were interrupted by ECM, that would confirm enemy pressence. Were the building's enviromental controlls accessible? Was there some form of wireless security system for the front door they could exploit?...

Slow and ponderous, they simply catalogued every node address they could track down for now, even personal communicators. Last thing they needed was an IED.

"...Sarge. Tobias. We should look inside those APCs." Her gloved organic hand pointed, though she was speaking in meatspace to avoid anyone potentially listening in on her. "...If they aren't car bombs, they could be handy for plowing up the stairs..."

Sheild held ready at a sideways position, their tracks clunked forward, though not breaking much past a walking pace. It was Lupin she was sticking near, glacing over in his direction every few moments.

"...Shit... Do you see any snipers, boy ch- wolf boy?..." Steam gusted from their extended muzzle as they talked, just as much as it billowed from their battery fans in this cold. "This whole damn thing feels like a trap... What about those pill boxes?"

...That new fox woman was taking point, too.... The tank wanted to yell across for what they could see, but 'dog lady' might be taken the wrong way...
 
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Caffran studied the layout. He knew that his team could get the job done, but it would be bloody. He had the techs open a channel to the Kuz. "This is Sergeant Caffran Canterbury of the 309th NSMC. We have orders to get the cities defensive shields up. We've got incoming that will destroy the city if those shields are not engaged in the next 30 mins. For the sake of the city and all it's inhabitants we are coming in and turning that shield on. Once it is activated, we'll leave. The Kuz will maintain full control of the shield. We're coming in." Caffran looked around at those with him. "Lets get it done." He ordered.
 
Admin Hall Exterior

"None yet..." Lupin shot back to Molo after giving the tanklet a reassuring tap on the shoulder, using a combination of his own enhanced eyesight and his golem's sensors to scan every angle he could see, looking for anything really. A hint of movement, a wavering shadow, a glimmer of imperfect optical camo, ranging lasers, anomalous heat signatures... anything that'd point to the presence of an opposing marksman.

"Hey Quills," Lupin piped up once more, projecting his voice towards the squad's resident quail as his eyes kept scanning firing-ports and rooftops.

"It'd take a lot of explosives and deliberate scoring inside to make these APCs throw shrapnel, yeah? Pretty obvious tampering? we should check just to be safe, but I'm not sure about them being rigged to blow." the sniper spoke in that husky, monotone voice that'd become synonymous with him - being very careful of where his feet fell, only making a few tentative steps as he observed possible enemy positions.
 
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The Parking Lot
Time is ticking down, down, down...

Quilly nodded as the sniper addressed her. "You're right, those ones are designed to handle explosive force very well. Seen it in action, myself," She claimed, though she was hoping that Lupin wouldn't ask how she got that experience. The demo took easy steps towards the APCs, nodding at Molo as she passed by which a whisper of, "Cover me, I'm going to check those out."

Unfortunately, the APCs were right up against the building - Quilly wouldn't make it far unless she went fast, and the open space of the parking lot means she'd be spotted if she did - and that would piss off every gun in the damn building faster than a fresh shit storm of spacebugs.

So she kept her pace slow, and hoped that the communication was going to be clean enough that she'd make it to the APCs, or back to her squad, before something blew up.
 
Parking Lot

Static answered Caffrans hail with nothing more than dead air as the Mercenaries took the lead while the shuttles Idled with four mercs staying behind for obvious security. The lot was big. Likely the external for all matters of traffic both employee and visitors alike the lot could hold possibly five to six thousand vehicles alone and stretched for a mile across of pure, offensive organized parking.

There were vehicles. Though sparse perhaps a few hundred scattered about like distant pebbles they were standard roller-type vehicles with the usual reinforced carbon-rubber style tires for city driving instead of the arctic expedition that would lay outside the walls. Distant further and closer to the wall were more government and utility-style vehicles like work and repair trucks and even a few custom-armored vehicles likely for wealthy politicians on the governor's staff.

There was even a few circles marked for landing craft and shuttles though all were emptied.

As they got closer they cut into the shadow of the massive structure. At under 600-stories tall and wide enough across to fit an entire stadium inside of it, the admin-hall was made incredibly imposing by the normal Nepleslian Brutalist archetecture that was all hard materials, hard edges, and straight lines as if every building regardless of purpose could and would someday be used in a seige.

In Funky City very many had in the past like when the Mishhu had arrived during the second war of the same name.

So tall one could not simply look up to see its crown the shadow stretched farther still and emphasized the sheer size of the lot. At their current pace it would take ten minutes or more just to walk to the garage. While they did walk there were security probing from some like Molotra and Tobias; Not some simple network their attempts were not only thwarted but even an attempted counter-intrusion into Tobias mindware meaning either the building had a good controller or more likely the structure had a core of JANEs that the precinct JANE of the precinct house inside the structure could tap into the processing power of for counter electronic messures.

From the outside they remained as in the dark as the rest of them.

Lupin, a keener eye than most saw it first.

Not in one of the bunkers where most of the rest of them were eyeing wearily but off to the side between two of them the flat shape of the stone wall was ever so dimpled in one area that he only noticed by looking for such imperfections. Two little bumps barely above being flush with the barrier.

As they walked and Lupin tried to focus more Caffrans radio went from dead to a single blip of static and then the signal for an open channel.

There was no voice, but some kind of ambient background noise as Caffran stopped to listen more closely, Tsar not far off to his side doing so as well.

A lesson came to mind during Lupins training in the SMDIoN marksmanship class.

The best way to pick out officers and command figures is to isolate them in a group.


There had been an example, one the Wolf herself had used to effect multiple times; Officers and high ranking Non-Coms pay attention to the radio, Its their job while the trigger pullers let traffic wash over them.

The Wolf liked to use captured Red radios to make faux radio calls while observing targets. Speaking too quietly to hear the officers would pay closer attention trying to make out the broadcast while the regular infantry wouldnt reac-

One of the dimples rippled as a muzzle blast disturbed whatever urban camouflage was concealing the sniper-spotter duo. The round hit Caffran moments before the sound of the report from the rifle could be heard. As Caffran moved on instinct he could feel the spot where a high-velocity round passed close enough by his hip that it tore through a magazine pouch and the force of it passing through them alone had almost thrown him off his feet as a high-caliber round passing by and where it connected while not actually even hitting his armor he could feel the round pass by him as his hip flared like it had been slapped bare-handed.

Tsar dove, before even he did as the cry of Sniper! went off from multiple sources. A second bark of a high-powered rifle went off before anyone else returned fire as one of the mercenaries jerked back as if a cable had been tied to his arm and then suddenly ripped back by a SOL as the body skipped once and then missing one arm at the shoulder looked empty-eyed at the ground unmoving.

Weapons opened fire then, not seeing where the sniper was but focussing on the bunkers mercenaries opened fire. A couple of the mercs in powered armor immediately took to the sky as Tsar shouted something in his radio while waving furiously at them to cease.

"One..." Caffrans radio sounded with a shrill female voice.

As the suites of powered armor took to an altitude to fire down at the bunkers from above one of them, a suit of VOID armor ceased to exist as a macro-weapon battery somwhere on the plato-level opened fire and tore even a suit of heavy power armor to near scrap and ribbons as the sheer amount of tracers made it look almost like a laser.

The second suit cut their thrusters and began to freefall in an attempt to quickly move out of the line of fire. A skilled pilot like a Marine would have made an evasive maneuver instead as the inevitable happened as a high-velocity minimissile caught the suit dead on.

While it didnt destroy the suit like the barrage did the pilot had likely been injured or dazed, possibly even blacking out from the damage as the suit continued to fall right until it hit the ground back-first hard enough that it bounced once; A fatal landing.

Near the front a mercenary ran directly infront of Quilly; He jerked suddenly to the side even though the bullet wasn't seen.

"Two..."

Men all over were shouting to either run for non-existent cover still hundreds of feet ahead, to get closer to the wall where a sniper couldn't depress to look down at them, to return fire, to retreat, to-

"Three..."
 
"Oh hell." - Avery Jensen

The moment the sniper fired, and the round nearly took Caffran to the ground, the anthro's eyes and muzzle snapped in the direction she thought it came from but she didn't fire, instead lowering her head and weapon to get out of the line of fire, or to try at least. But she'd learned well enough that that would not be enough, and if there was more than one they'd not have long before people were being picked off like flies under a swatter, having her feeling grow that much stronger when another man fell dead like a child's doll smacked away.
"Oh hell."

They gave her training for this scenario and she remembered it vaguely, and why in this environment she hadn't brought a more appropriate piece of kit, ala obscurants, she didn't know and was kicking herself mentally for - if she did it physically she'd have to stand up. She would press the talk button on her radio and start to speak, hoping her squad was actually listening.

"We need to obstruct their line of fire and close to destroy, anyone got smokes?" Avery said before letting go of the buttons, as she looked up at that vast and all the more intimidating building, wondering if it'd even work but having suggested it anyway, since the mercenaries seemed to just be flailing as far as she could tell.
 
Campers Ruin Everything

Masato murmured a lengthly string of curses - some Yamataian, some Nepleslian, and even a couple of Saalsari and Takavoni ones he’d picked up over the years - as the exclamation of “Sniper!” caused him to instinctively dive onto the snow-covered pavement, because the presence of opposition meant that their time was up, and that all of them were completely and utterly fucked.

Just like Masato’s former shipmates, when-No. No. No. No, now is NOT the time for this, you baka. Think. Focus and think. Fo-

Though the sight of a pair of power armors ascending towards the heavens above interrupted the Minkan’s train of self-recriminating thought, their prompt destruction (especially that of the second armor) only served to turn his hemosynthetic blood turn to ice - because if Nepleslian mini-missiles were anything like their Yamataian counterparts, they had an off-bore firing mode that let them be launched around cover and use their onboard sensors to find targets.

Which in turn meant that everyone not in power armor probably had at most seconds to live. Oh, Empress help us-BWAH?!?

The engineer practically jumped out of his skin as the corpse of an unlucky mercenary toppled to the ground less then an inch from his faceplate. Oh fuck that could have been me that could have been me that could have been me… alright… calm the frak down, Masato…
"We need to obstruct their line of fire and close to destroy, anyone got smokes?"
Right. Just think of this as an engineering problem. A really tough, really lethal engineering problem that has to be solved right this second before the ship explodes, the kind you have plenty of experience with. “I-I do, Avery-san,” replied Masato, voice stuttering slightly as he drew a NAM smoke grenade (acquired via the Anemone’s armory) from its place on his right thigh. In fact, frell it. Like Gunnhildr-sensei said all those years ago in Basic: “when in doubt, do what they least expect and banzai it out!”

The Shoi, his biosynthetic heart still beating a mile a minute, switched over to the FAC frequency being used by the trio of Zachitnik shuttles that had brought then in - rank had its privileges, after all - and barked an order in the best impression of a drill sergeant he could muster: “PILOTS! This is Shoi Matokai Masato, and I WANT SUPPRESSING FIRE ON THE BUILDING’S BUNKERS YESTERDAY!”

The Shoi, his throat raw from screaming and his hands shaking from adrenaline, fear, panic, or some combination thereof, then switched back to the squad’s frequency and issued another order, one that he a) hopefully had the authority to give and b) wouldn’t piss off Caffran-san or Tobias-san too much. “Like Avery-san said, if you have smokes, use them! w-WITH ME!“

With that said, Masato primed his smoke grenade and - while still prone - gave it a gravity-assisted throw at the ground beyond. Three seconds later, he bolted to his feet and dashed for the distant safety of the titanic building’s wall, his body’s inbuilt abilities letting him hover a few centimeters above the ground at a speed - fifteen meters per second - that only Caffran (or another power armor-equipped mercenary) could ever hope to match.

He zigged. He zagged. And, most (or least?) importantly, he prayed nonstop to the kami for protection as the seconds stretched into eternity. He knew what he was doing was risky at best and suicidal at worst, that there was a very good chance he was going to get shot and (given how many enemies he’d made back home) permanently killed - but he also knew that with the twin plasma turrets (which, as far as the Minkan knew, were hilariously lethal rapid-fire heavy anti-tank weapons) providing suppression and the smoke grenades providing pockets or cover, there was a chance his desperate excuse of a plan might somehow work.

Either way, though, it was all or nothing - and with Masato leading the charge, he would be the first to find out if his gamble had paid off.
 
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Midway Across Car Park

"Bird, Wolfboy, get behind me!" Molo shreiked about five paces after the precise nature of the commotion became obvious, and angled their sheild vertically so that it covered their entire torso and then some... "Shit, anyone got a visual!?"

Of course, this was exactly the opposite of the scenario that this setup was designed for, which was blocking doorways in confined spaces. But the upright overhang of the solid metal block might just be enough to protect a curled up Quilly and Lupin's lanky butt for a few moments.

Problem was, they couldn't just keep rolling forwards, and get to cover behind the APCs, Molotra considered. They'd be isolated. It might even be part of a planned trap- They might even find themselves staring at the solitary figure of a embedded Yamatai officier performing an impromptu banzai charge, running right past them-

Well, shit. It wasn't like they could catch up with him on tracks. Shooting through him slightly more difficult.

<"Masato, Avery, stay back from the cars a minute!"> She voxed ahead, voice distorted by the lag of her brain fighting ECM and trying to multiprocess other metaphysical actions at the same time.

Hacking cars was hard because letting people wirelessly move your wheels was terrible idea, something mankind had learned in their prehistory. But the civilian charging outlets didn't normally require a lock fob to access...

Starting with the cars closest to the stairwell in front of the building, the tank accessed four individual car's charging ports and rapidly activated and deactivated them, disabling the saftey measures by putting them in debug maintenance mode. Soon enough the heat and pressure was great enough to cause thermal runaway, batteries shorting out and catching fire.

She didn't have time or network access enough to figure out which models were liable to produce the required smoke, and which ones might just explode...

Steady, steady...

Just had to apply enough pressure, just had to change the footing, and the enemy would reveal themselves sooner or later...
 
Carpark

Lupin flinched as another round barely split the difference between Molotra and himself, showering the two of them in flakes of paint and shards of reinforced glass as he dropped to his knees and brought up a protective forearm over both their faces, a reflexive little jerk that happened irrelevant to the protective shell they both wore. "Molo!" Lupin called out, grasping at the quick release buckles that held his overloaded pack onto his armour.

"Take my pack a moment, dumping it on your caboose!" he warned the 'spacer, stripping his anti-materiel rifle from its scabbard and taking some of the stress off his massive thighs, the sniper then span around to face the squad's tiny Elysian demolitionist.

"Swap spots with me, Quilly, keep Molo covered while she does her thing," Lupin suggested, his tone flat yet authoritive, one hand on Quilly's shoulder as he scooted past the mousey lass, armoured knees scraping against the debris-riddled tarmac as he manoeuvred towards the back of one of the nearby vehicles. The anti-materiel rifle's barrel extended forwards with a meaty ker-chunk, chambering the first armour-piercing round as he stabilized the massive weapon against the rear fender of a vehicle.

Barely leaning out of cover, Lupin used Masato's mad dash as an opportunity to sink a round into each of those two little bumps he could barely perceive. With each discharge of his coilgun a sphere of falling snow was momentarily displaced as air was forced out his rifle's barrel, hefty enough to set off a nearby car alarm. Lupin quickly marked the spot he'd fired at on his HUD before dipping back behind the vehicle, his scope's optical sensor barely peeking around the corner as the rifle was held close to his person, the sniper careful to minimize his silhouette behind one rear wheel as much as possible given the situation while he monitored the scope's video feed on his helmet's hud - eyes blinking independently so as to not miss a beat.
 
Under Fire in the Lot

Quilly's frame snapped down on reflex as the crack of the marksman's rifle shattered the otherwise silent atmosphere, the armored Elysian scrambling backwards with the help of Lupin's meaty grip. She was already pulling out three nades before the Yamataian kid asked for cover, and the familiar hissing of Obscurity In A Can being released surrounded Molo's position. Two more smokes were pulled out, and tossed towards the building with startling accuracy to help cover that idiot charging in alone.

"Tracks, how's your arm? Give that rooftop this one for me," Quilly requested, a fragmentation grenade being presented on the Spacer's left periphery. The Elysian's familiar speckled wings were clasped up tight against her back, making her normal tiny body seem even smaller when between the war machine and towering marine. Hopefully that, and the steel umbrella, could keep the her from being shit.
 
Field of Dreams

"Lu-Lu-Lupin, stay in- cover!-" A disconcerted tone escaped the tank's vox grill, watching the animalistic sniper bound away into the gathering smoke. She didn't like how fast this was all going to hell, and how hard it was to catch up with people when they jolted sideways like that.

Hammering the VR angle to try and find ways to protect all of those out in the open, it took Molotra a second to snap back to reality again, and focus on the small bird person yelling at them in meat space-

"Sur- Here- Help me hold this!" A loud clunk sounded as they mechanically detached the oversized shield from their cybernetic right arm- allowing the bottom to rest on the concrete, so that it was leaning back against their armored but internally fleshy left arm.

Once Quilly had activated the dangerfruit and placed them in the forklift's metal claw, she lobbed them practically straight upwards, with a loud *KA-PHUNK* noise, and ridiculous burst of speed... "HHUURRRR-HHAAAHAHH~!"

Then, the red eye lenses just locked back with the Elysian again, blankly.

The arc was based on pure maths and schematics. They couldn't actually see past their own shield. Hopefully they estimated the weight of the grenades correctly, and the windshear wasn't completely insane that far up...
 
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Haisely had just been about to unsheathe the computer from her back when Masato suggested taking care of the camera’s, mumbling to herself about being called ‘san’ by the yammie. The nepcat took a knee and opened up the screen, starting a network scan while looking for an insecurity to exploit tapping away when the sniper shot rang out making her flinch and look around rapidly.

The cybercat froze up in the open for a few moment, molo was on the move with some others and even more had gone towards cars? Haisely just looked around for the nearest car herself and scampered over, throwing herself at it in a dive then scrambling up against it with her back. The hacker had stayed mostly out of combat like this in the force, and on the streets the most she’d had to deal with was a couple of guys with handguns.

“As long as my head isn’t blown off, I’ll work on the network… Just let me know when everyone is going inside I guess.”

With her brief, seemingly unphased words she once again got to work breaking into the network, luckily for her network cameras were almost always the best way to break in. The nepcat just prayed to the machine gods they had some sort of blufor tracking so she could ping people, or decent camera’s to scan the field with.
 
Fan, meet Shit

Tobias cursed as he dove for cover. So much for the peaceful route, that had been all but closed off to them now with the sniper working against them alongside their radios being used to pinpoint the officers present. The mercenaries in power armor getting wasted early on also complicated affairs, it meant less firepower that would be available for the long slog clearing the hallways later.

As he hustled to safety, Tobias launched the drones from his tech-pack, utilizing them to form a small shield wall protecting the members of the squad who were close at hand. Masato had moved too far to be part of the main phalanx, with only one drone offering some cover, while the others had the benefit of multiple drones working together. The drone nearest to Lupin was set such that it wouldn't interfere with his line of sight as it deployed.

He slid to relative safety behind a car near to Haisely, offering the advice of "Be careful with your hack," as he cut off his own intrusion attempt in order to stymie the counter-hack against him. "Whatever or whoever they've got inside there, they're on their game. One of us is going to have to cover the other's back in order to make any kind of headway on their systems. I'll do what I can to keep them off you while you work." He said, less an offer and more a statement of fact as he began to work.

He attempted to piggyback off of the cyber-cat's intrustion attempt, hoping to foil any attempts by the JANEs inside to stop her from gaining access to the systems she was after. Against such a large amount of processing power his approach was twofold; For the first part, he booted up an old script he'd written years prior. It would, over time, start generating automated intrusions into the target system. Not particularly effective, but each would need some resources to address. They would buy him time to safeguard Haisley's hacks by attempting to redirect any counter-hacks directed at her.
 
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