Primitive Polygon
🎖️ Game Master
Molotra took a ricocheting PA rifle round back in the car park without even realizing, but was forced to confront the damage in the stairwell, when the simple concrete steps nearly made her throw a track. A big chunk of their left side ablative armor was twisted and had to be ditched, before they could even reach down into the bent interlocking pins that were now extruding out worryingly past the wheel-hub.
The shield was unceremoniously jammed sideways into the top of the railings just before the doorway into the main hall, by which point the others were making their way to the elevator already- Made sense for them to be last because of the ammo, but... Probably best not to take so long she ended up facing a literal platoon of infantry as the sole rearguard.
Too many political machinations going on at once. Blood pumping too fast to even think of the implications of fighting for this useless iceball planet full of defective pirates.
Cha-tink-cha-tink-cha-tink-cha-tink-
"Take a bunch of the ammo." She offered Quilly two literal handfuls of frag grenades, smoke charges and M2 rounds, butting into the conversation with Mastato as the rotund armored figure barely caught up. "Even the non-lethal stuff will set off the projectile stuff. We can abuse that for the timers."
A disgruntled glance at Francis, then the Tsar, then Lupin, then Haisely- Unspooling molecure tape and making the most roughshod party poppers she'd ever made.
"Fuck, what was even the plan here? Where were the revolutionaries going to hide when the ship came down?... I didn't have time to hack any of the personal gear..."
The chaingun on their waist handlessly rotated on its own, testing the action whilst Molotra closed the rest of the gap to the service elevators.
No time left at all.
The shield was unceremoniously jammed sideways into the top of the railings just before the doorway into the main hall, by which point the others were making their way to the elevator already- Made sense for them to be last because of the ammo, but... Probably best not to take so long she ended up facing a literal platoon of infantry as the sole rearguard.
Too many political machinations going on at once. Blood pumping too fast to even think of the implications of fighting for this useless iceball planet full of defective pirates.
Cha-tink-cha-tink-cha-tink-cha-tink-
"Take a bunch of the ammo." She offered Quilly two literal handfuls of frag grenades, smoke charges and M2 rounds, butting into the conversation with Mastato as the rotund armored figure barely caught up. "Even the non-lethal stuff will set off the projectile stuff. We can abuse that for the timers."
A disgruntled glance at Francis, then the Tsar, then Lupin, then Haisely- Unspooling molecure tape and making the most roughshod party poppers she'd ever made.
"Fuck, what was even the plan here? Where were the revolutionaries going to hide when the ship came down?... I didn't have time to hack any of the personal gear..."
The chaingun on their waist handlessly rotated on its own, testing the action whilst Molotra closed the rest of the gap to the service elevators.
No time left at all.