RP: Die Screaming [Die Screaming] Red death part II: To Die For So Little.

IPG Team

Tobias took a few seconds to process the situation. Deuce wasn't known for going off-mission, meaning that if she was turning away from backing up the bravo team, that she had noticed something important. At the same time, there was no guarantee that what she noticed was actually mission-critical, and if no one came to back them up, Bravo team could potentially be sitting high and dry.

He made his choice, and continued to follow Bravo team's trail. He knew his job, and would just have to trust Deuce to know hers. IPG conditioning prompted him to send a brief report to the second IPG team; Alpha actual has diverted, Alpha 1-3 continuing on task. He activated his Britva's stealth systems and continued to move towards the center of the ship.

Hangar

Carina's curse-laced retort to Lulu's teasing joke was cut abruptly short with a moment's silence and a hard punch in the shoulder even before her lips began to form the first syllable left her lips. It had all become a blur within the span of moments. First people behind crates chucking tools at them, then onto the beginnings of hell breaking loose once more. Her rifle would prove rather useless against shielded powered armor on its own. But then again they were massing fire on the gaudy bastards. Sure it'd fuck up someone's day when they were not encased in centimeters of advanced alloy plating and literal barriers of energy between'em. So instead the young Medic began adding her own fire into the mix. Not on their own of course, but toward where most of the other marine's fire seemed to be directed at.

The rifle's staccato bark was rather lost in the cacophony of sound from shots fired, and the booming roar of possible explosions. But she felt it. Holding the weapon aloft she felt each little kick jitter her arm, and part of the shoulder. But Lulu had made a keen, and even sagely observation in his joke about her. He just left out one fine detail. Getting her home safe and sound while wonderful in theory was an absolute disaster of epic proportions if pulled off. Because she'd be at her mother's mercy and her stern as hell grandmother. Both women's glares set a literal shudder to run through her. As if someone had suddenly poured a bucket of ice on her head. She'd pulled the trigger at just the right moment to send a shot a good two or more feet over the enemy's head. Still though. Living and surviving the outcome was infinitely preferable than going into the big empty of the beyond to whatever came next.

Hangar
Lupin nodded as his older, gruffer counterpart took up position alongside him, taking a brief moment to judge any little customizations that Otto might have made before lowering his head back down to his own rifle's scope with decisive huff.

"Yes Corporal, not sure of their exact rank yet but the ones with the golden chest plates seem to be fairly important, they didn't like last time I took one out," the marksman commented into his helmet before flicking off his rifle's safety with a very positive click that gave the lad a small rush of endorphins as his finger settled onto the trigger slowly. He didn't expect the guys with the expensive, embossed chest-pieces to run through the energy shield with the cannon fodder but Lupin was sure to keep his eyes out for that sheen regardless, his scope lining up with the chest of an autocannon-wielding merc.

The moment there was a slight break in the hard-working energy shield his trigger snapped back with that proverbial "breaking a glass rod" feeling every professional shooter spoke so highly of, his rifle letting out a suppressed roar as Lupin watched the target's chest crumple, quickly followed by a gout of flame out his back that caused their ammo-filled backpack to detonate like a fragmentation grenade, spitting small bits of shrapnel around as they collapsed.

He... wasn't expecting all that and after ejecting the spent casing Lupin looked down into his magazine's contents with a befuddled expression, shaking his head and chambering the next round before speaking up.

"I... I think I magazine is full of someone's home-brewed, over-pressure API ammo that they never lacquered...," he chuckled a little before swallowing thickly, returning to his scope with a more serious expression befitting the situation at hand.

"Anyway, Corporal Reiter, I've yet to see one of those guys with the autocannons deploy and our guys don't need that right now... plus now I know what Private Armstrong shoved into my mags earlier~"

Hangar

Sebastian's shield drones deployed just in the knick of time. No longer waylayed due to the erection of the fire pacification shield the kuvexians had managed to mount a large and intimidating looking mounted cannon on their side of the shield and crewed the static weapon just as soon as the drones deployed.

Unlike a traditional static autocannon, it didn't let out a salvo but a solid and uninterrupted stream of unbroken and continuous blue energy that passed effortlessly through the shield and passed its stream across the hangar in a horizontal line that would have cut through just about everyone if the drones had not intercepted it. They didn't last; Couldn't last against such firepower.

But they bought precious time!

Not bothering to test the theory with anything but its full momentum; A crooked demon suit of power armor propelled itself at full speed and passed unimpeded through the shield, now showing it wasn't meant to keep everything from passing through, and crashed directly into a group of kuvexians on the other side.

With a rehearsed correction, the suit turned and skid to a halt with red smears under its armored feet and screaming bodies under its weight and swung its currently unpowered chainsword like a club. The weapon even currently deactivated still caved through the thin helmet of one kuvexian until a split second later the weapon whirred to life with an ungodly loud protest that almost drowned out the sound of gunfire as the kuvexian the suit bore down on unloaded his weapon uselessly into the suit point-blank.

The carnage was all anyone needed to spur the marines and reds into action.

"The shield!" Minnie screamed, pointing at the crooked demon as if she was the only one who saw it. "Push through the shield!" her voice cracked as she bolted from cover, Firing her PMOPE at the shield and forcing a group of kuvexians preparing to fire her way to flinch away on reflex as the intense energy flaked and forced the shield to buckle slightly as the two energies collided.

Hesitantly at first and then as if a switch had been flicked marines and reds began sprinting like madmen through the open hangar and towards the shield.

Most of the team, marksmen and rear-line medics, and demolitionists they were had more ground to cover so had all the more time to witness as the leading marines with their sergeant included got blindsided when the grav-lift finally dropped the second wave of six suits of power armor, each resembling the Golden God just like the first wave had been.

Without hesitation and before their armored boots had even hit the ground the six fired on the charging group with aether carbines and a salvo of some kind of armor piercing mini-missile like darts that cut through bodies only to explode after passing through them and killing or maiming the others. Of the charging group many made it through the shield, but many more met their ends in the open.

As for Minnie, none of the team could distinguish in the blood mist and smoke if their sergeant was still of the living or the dead as their HUDs struggled to differentiate IFF signals and the radio was drowned out by the screams of panic or pain.

Of the six new threats one of them each chose to pursue each of the three crooked demon suits of red power armor, One chose to propel itself with its thrusters straight at the tank, Another at Sebastian from his flank, And the final chose to take to the air and fly straight at the back of the charging group where the stragglers were.

Stragglers like Carina, Otto, Lupin, and Lou resided.

Tobias

"Bravo-Actual confirms and has command" The casual and almost bored sound of Dreamy Steve sounded over the net as Tobias continued on alone. The bravo-net taking priority now was unfounded as the tactical picture slowly painted itself as the lone operator continued down after the first team.

With Duece and Locust AWOL in two separate directions the Alpha-team would have consisted of only three. Locusts mark quickly seemed to speed through the mapped corridors on Tobias' HUD back towards the hangar for whatever reason and Duece's had long since passed into unknown territory and had winked out moments before.

Of Cutter and Apples the two could be found further on as he traveled. Apples had been overcome somewhere along the way; His corpse discarded casually along the corridors alongside no less than ten Kuvexians. The enemy had finally overcome him and plunged some kind of energy-based sword through his chest, Pinning him unceremoniously to the wall.

The operators Nova pistol still hung loosely in his hand by a single finger. Tobias never had learned how he got his callsign.

Cutters fate was simular but unseen as Tobias passed a sealed bulkhead a few corridors down. The bulkhead was warped and buckled and intense heat radiated through the bulkhead to the operator as some raging inferno inside took place.

Cutters IFF mark was silent and unmoving on the other side.

Of the Alpha team only tobias remained. The realization oddly enough gave him no pause, like his team he was psycho-indoctrinated to the point of near zealotry to the DIoN and its cause. Each one of his team he knew gave not a second thought to their own lives or safety at the time of death and had simply dedicated every single last iota of their being to their mission and their cause.

He too knew what awaited him on the other side of the ships innermost protective shield.

Or he would have if the IFF marks of two of the Bravo team members hadn't just appeared again on his HUD from his side of the shield and began making their way towards him with haste.

Knowing only one reason the Bravo team would be making a tactical retreat entered Tobias' mind.

The charge is set!

Despite all his training, hesitation set into the young operator as tactical judgment and lack of true experience warred in his mind.

He didn't have to die.

The objective was completed.

The charge is going to go any minute.

Any unsure notion as to his next course of action was decided for him when a following group of kuvexians got the drop on him; A packet of aetheric energy striking a glancing blow off his helmet and ringing his bell as he threw himself to the side on instinct to avoid a followup shot and turned to face the grouped up bunch of four enemies. From behind them other kuvexians ran by in groups across another adjoining hall but none yet had taken notice as they passed at the intruder.

Well, he could still die here after all!

Tobias

Whether or not he retreated, Tobias knew that his first course of action would have to be to clear the Kuvexians in front of him to allow him breathing room. As his Britva's volumetric stealth systems reengaged. Waiting for a split second in stealth for the second group of Kuvexians to pass, he switched flicked the selector on his underbarrel plasma launcher to full mode and rolled out of cover, bringing the barrel up and pulling the trigger, sending a one second spray of plasma at the Kuvexian crewmen, hoping to either kill them outright or block their path towards him.

HANGER

CPL Reiter

Finding the golden armoured targets his young, now team member spotted, Reiter chuckled as the staccato crack of his own rifle, followed the young man's anti material rifle. Finding the target. Piercing the visor of his helmet causing the pill to ricochet inside the unlucky kuvexians head." Keep focus on those heavier armored targets. Load your next round and watch the grav lift..." His words trailed off as the gilded armor sunk into the battlefield. "Provide support while we can, Take out the nearest threat and we will move to the next target. The flier. Kennedy, aim for his thrusters, Fekete buy us time!" His words were direct, calm but with no certainty if their Sergeant had survived. Otto took charge to hopefully keep his new team members alive. The Carnage was impressive, even making Otto wince, the lethal proficiency of the Kuvexians armour was respectable. But their job was simply to hold the line. No more...no less.

________________________
HANGER
Shuttle

L.Fekete

Watching the Carnage unfold nearly infront of Demo expert. He took cover by rolling close to the Shuttle. Hearing Reiters orders through his comms, he watched as the golden armored Kuvexians heavy infantry defend into the fray." Don't get me killed you son of a bitch!" His words were short, as Lou loader a high explosive 40mm shell into his launcher. Firing just above the hovering kuvexians, hopefully pulling his focus, as a volley of fire came to greet the Heavily armored kuvexian. Attempting to fall back to cover Lou growled with frustration at the limited areas for cover. Running back to the drop door of the shuttle. Utilizing the gilded ship as cover. Hopefully.

Hangar

"Aye aye sir," Lupin huffed as the young lad modified the grip on his bolt-rifle, pinching the bolt handle between his pointer finger and thumb as a gloved ring-finger settled onto his rifle. The amber-eyed private had tried to hold fire as the golden god approached but his survival instinct eventually managed to overrule any the discipline that'd been beaten into him over the past year. The two quick shots that he cracked off resulted in little more than some minor cosmetic damage on the golden god's right shoulder and a few wafts of smoke that it quickly surged through, which made him swallow loud enough for the lad's microphone to pick it up.

"Shit I can't do anything from the front... Corporal I'm going to rotate around to the left to where we last saw Carina, it'll give me a better angle and I might be able to see how Sarge and the others are doing, yeah? Yeah," Lupin informed his fellow marksman with a nod before hopping down off the side of the overturned thing they'd been using as cover, slipping momentarily on the layer of brass casings that coated the ground before finding his footing, keeping down low behind various bits of cover as he repositioned closer to where he'd seen Carina.

Lulu's lean form slid past Carina and into cover, kicking up some of the debris before one gloved hand on the medic's underdeveloped chest pushed Carina back into cover, "I wouldn't stick your head out yet, Sanroma," he chuckled, a weak smile visible behind Lupin's visor as the lad took a moment to catch his breath.

It was clear he'd been as busy as anyone else right now, heat struggling to escape from under the tan-coloured shroud around his rifle's overworked suppressor, though that was also partially due to the spicy as shit ammo he'd been given, if it weren't for their EVA suits he had no doubt the scent of burning paint would be eating away at his nostrils.

"You see what happened to Sarge and the others that were close enough to charge the energy barrier? I lost sight of them," he spoke up over the constant retort of gunfire and the screams of their targets, carefully crouch-walking to the outermost edge of whatever crate they were hiding behind before bracing his rifle against the side of it, hoping he'd given the golden god enough of a slip to get a few rounds into those thrusters.

With Minnie unaccounted for he had no choice other than to follow what Otto had been barking at him, hoping the spooks were having more success with their endeavors.

Hangar

Carina had just begun to rise. A grim, almost fatalistic set to her jaw, lips, and eyes whilst her rifle and ready to fire her way through if she could. Lupin slithered his way around her, the sniper whose skin seemed to mimic a good café au lait with a generous helping of cold milk to lighten it further.

Carina did enjoy her coffee, the pang of desire for a small cup of Iromakuahe coffee. Or at least made of a bean of similar properties and (at least to her) uniquely less acidic tasting dark roast. A spoon of cinnamon, a bit of orange flower water, cream, and vanilla sugar, enough to be shiveringly sweet to most, but her? Sugar was life! Sugar was love! The errant desire passed as her mind then registered a firm pressure on her armor. The were of the hand and the fact whom it was attached to caused fierce flushing of her cheeks to form. This all happened with her almost tumbling backward into the alloyed deck plating with a dull thud and clatter of her medical kit.

Flush intensifying, Carina allowed Lupin, not Lulu some final words before an unholy torrent to pass from between her lips. While she could be construed as an innocent girl from her countenance, how she carried herself, spoke, and acted left much to be desired as to her physical appearance would suggest.

Whom she saw or didn't catch fleeing toward that glimmering barrier didn't matter at that moment. With a little tilt of her neck, she felt the pop as gas bubbles were released from the synovial joints. The effect was an almost pleasant release with just a touch of an ache accompanying it. That chuckle sealed the deal. He may have been trying to be friendly, but once the damage had been done, Suku's the Matsobuki's and a select few of the Sanroma's influence on her still-developing psyche bubbled forth. She slugged him in the arm with all the force her girlish muscles could muster. While she'd gone through basic, hell week and a training regime she'd developed for herself... she was still pitifully weak in comparison to those of better stature and sometimes gender.

What came down on Lupin's shoulder and the side of his helmet was a series of punches to the armored bicep, pounding on the shoulders, and a right hook to the plated and impact-resistant cheek armor of the helmet. It was all ineffectual of course. Borne of subpar food, rest, exertion and simple genomic lack of the capability of military desired muscular development.

"Shitpouch, pisswizard, cumwipe! You scared the shit outta me you... pushed/ me" her armored chest heaved in frustration while thankfully no more colorful insults came bursting forth, she was in truth thankful for his assistance. Granted his (in her mind) copping a feel despite potentially saving her life deserved a bit of a verbal tongue lashing.

This all having transpired a and only lasted a moment as Lupin sat his rifle to the side and seemingly within reach. He was always ready. Or come off as so to her in such a manner.

"Tha'fuck we do now Mistah Kennedy?" her stubborn refusal to call him by his rightfully earned, perfectly legal, and ordained nickname. Life-saving was one thing, but touching the chest was another to do so at one's peril even if it was to save her life. The act of a boy doing so was both surprises mingled with embarrassment at not full developing into something like her birth mother, or the curves of her dad's mom or his sister. These came to mind a few minutes after it happened the full weight of their situation came flooding back. Self-consciousness was a terrible thing only made worse with power armors flitting around and a pack of marines scrambling for safety.

Tobias - Ship interior

The instantaneous cone of plasma flashed brightly in the off-color lighting of the passageway of the ship; The visor of Tobias' brivita armor nullifying most of the flash to a bearable and dim discoloration enough that he got enough of a view of one of the crewmen losing most of his arm and shoulder and the subsequent spread to the others killing them near instantaneously if not placing them in shock.

His quick thinking had cleared the situation before him enough to give him a precious second of time to think. it was in this time that the other two operators; One of which being the bravo-actual lead Dreamy Steve in the lead.

They had made it within a few dozen paces of him, still continuing on wordlessly and with all likelihood with pass him without comment back towards the hangar when a strange sensation seemed to dwell within his chest. It started like pressure in his sternum and slowly built and began to tingle with strange vibrations in his diaphragm as if an idling vehicle was slowly crushing him to the point where even the sharp intake of breath was painful.

By the way the other two operators staggered it wasn't exclusive to just him but the reason was clear when both men further from him seemed to lift off the ground as if by an invisible hand and while Steve was able to grasp hold of a bulkhead and secure himself his teammate was not so lucky as he shot back down the hall, an outstretched hand missing steves attempt to save him by mere inches.

There was no time to process the phenomena as these same forces seemed to wrech Tobias off his feet and in the same direction. For as soon as both men started being pulled back everything in that direction seemed to simply disappear in the blink of an eye as the antimatter charge built to its climax and imploded the ship from the inside.


Hangar

The fighting had reached a crescendo when all of a sudden a horrible pressure pressed down in the chest of each and every man and woman in the hangar regardless of their armor or location. None could have known about the charges detonation and subsequent implosion caused by mixture of excited antimatter and the collapse of the ships aether reactor.

What they did know a mere moment later became obvious as the ship first shook violently; Knocking all but the power armor frames off their feet as the aftershock traveled through the frame of the ship.

None were able to regain their feet as the gravity of the ship failed without power. And without power a chain of unfortunate events occurred.

The interior shield blocking the attacking marines simply winked out of existence. None of the marines or reds or kuvexians had a moment to contemplate the repercussions of this. Those that were facing the marines saw beyond them in abject horror as the other shield; The one that kept the hangar sealed off from the void sputtered and disappeared without any fanfare.

Exposing the hangar and everyone within it to the raw and uncaring void of space.

So sudden was the collapse of the main shield that within the pinhole effect of the vacuum all the air simply gushed out of the hangar with barely enough force to feel like a nudge but was still enough to disorient those lucky marines and reds and kuvexians in EVA suits or powered armor.

Not that any of them had time to process any of these events as the sheer speed they occurred happened in less than a matter of seconds. All any of them knew was crushing pain, the release of that pain, and then darkness and weightlessness as the lights expired and the gravity became null beneath them.

Hangar

Inside the EVA suit that housed one Private Anatevka was a miasma of sweat soaked through her undergarments mixed with adrenaline -- a foul-smelling soup if there ever was one. It forcefully filled her nostrils as she tried to shut out her feelings of disgust and continue to embrace the steady recoil of Zlata, as the GP-1 Assault Rifle's barrel burned nearly white hot delivering an old-fashioned stream of death to the evil, gilded alien invaders. The brutal tank and shuttle craft provided adequate cover, as she kept moving back and forth between the two to evade what would be killing blows from the scorched aether blasts of the enemy when they located her position. Her heart pounded through the sturdy Kuznyetski's woman's chest in time with the 3-round burst fire as this macabre dance continued, thought she wasn't sure how long she could keep it up.

Dispensing the spent and smoking magazine with a loud click to the hangar deck, it instead made a grisly sizzle and thud as it impaled into the cauterized husk of a fallen fellow marine marksman, with his head sheared clean off his shoulder and laying some distance away frozen in red-splattered horror at his Kuvexian murderer. Anatevka knew the grisly reality of death as well as the next person, being from a rough neighborhood, but it was getting harder and harder to hold back the urge to add vomit to the stew inside her flimsy protective gear. The sense of impending doom was not made any better when the Vandenberg native realized she was slamming the final clip of spare 7.62 KZ into her trusty rifle, whose worn barrel extender she had installed when she was but a child seemed about ready to give out from the non-stop firing stress.

As the reinforcements of enemy security bypassed over the front line to attack the vulnerable cadre, Ana began to panic and flipped a spring switch on the venerable rifle in her hands . This deployed her emergency electrified bayonet attachment, and not a moment too soon, for it pierced through the attacking Kuvexian's body armor as he grazed almost inches away from blowing her head clear off like her compatriot on the floor. Time had slowed down, but the jolt she felt as the battery discharged into the grey-skinned assailant's nervous system like a glorified stungun bought a precious second -- enough to trigger her muscle memory and discharge half of her clip into the unfortunate and surprised Kuvexian at point blank range.

There was the rising sense of horror and a scream of "Oy gevalt!" when she saw the bayonet bend and a loud snap, as Zlata's entire front barrel finally failed and broke clean off the rest of the GP-1 in her rigid grip, impaled in the enemy who was screaming and writhing as the remnant sputtered and sparked angrily to the end. Anatevka desperately tried to reach out and recover it, uncaring now for her own danger.

But it was too late... for before she could do so a literal gut punch of decompression had sent her sprawling to the deck in the wake of the anti-matter explosion, as shield failed and the void intruded into the battlespace, sucking out the occupants like a vacuum cleaner. A narrow crack on her visor spread across her vision, as her free hand not keeping a death grip on the rest of her broken assault rifle flailed to find purchase.

Wreckage - Present

Tobias floated inertly in the corridor that was half exposed to space, his body limply floating near his rifle, a crack in his helmet slowly leaking air which propelled him in a gentle tumble. A basic automated repair system began to seal the crack, and repressurize the helmet.

Ship Interior - Past

As the ship had fallen away from behind him, and the air had rushed to pull him towards the oncoming void, all Tobias had seen was the deadly light of radiation released by the antimatter and aether at the core of the ship. There had been silence at first, followed by the roar of rushing air. He hadn't seen what happened to Dreamy Steve, though the other operator had probably saved himself.

When Tobias had tried to catch onto a bulkhead to stop himself from falling "backwards" into the implosion, there had been a sharp pain as his arm was pulled taut and his helmet pulled sharply into the wall of the ship, and then there had been nothing.

Wreckage - Present

Pain. That was the first thing that Tobias registered as he became sensate. His ears and his eyes hurt like hell. He screwed his eyes shut in an attempt to dull the pain as his ears rang silently. He felt a trickle of blood on his lip and on his neck, and wasn't sure what it was from. Rifle. Was the next thought, and as he attempted to maneuver himself through the zero-gravity, he felt his right arm respond poorly.

As he turned his head to look, he saw it wrenched up, and knew it was likely dislocated, but he couldn't feel anything from it. He scrabbled for the rifle with the other arm, and began to tuck himself into a relatively stable corner of the wreckage as he began to try his radio. He could barely hear, but hoped that someone would respond loud enough.

"This is Alpha 1-3, do any alpha or bravo elements copy?"

Hangar - Past
While the young medic's assault was entirely unexpected Lupin still managed to weather most of it by curling one arm back to partially shield himself.

"Ah 'Rina! what the fuck, stop~" the marksman hissed as the bruise left by a Red's steel-toed boot impacting his cheekbone began stinging again, his boyish, slightly backlit features wincing as that same defensive arm waved Private Sanroma away. Of course the lad's mind still hadn't yet figured out why Carina's face might be reddened beyond physical exertion, while Lupin was quite the intelligent young thing he was rather dense and lacking experience when it came to this business.

"We're all getting too spread out and those OPFOR suits are thinning us out further... we should take stock of what we've got left and try to dig in here~" Lupin offered as his two cents, huffing and going to wipe a small bead of sweat off his forehead before remembering a hermetic seal was the only thing keeping his lungs supplied with a steady stream of air.

Now that the usually quiet boy had shut up once more he had some time to think, just enough for his cheeks to redden a few tones deeper as mental connections were made, that train of thought cut short by a sudden oppressive weight bearing down on his chest.

Hangar - Present
The pressure wave had of course knocked Lulu's lanky form astray as it had everyone else in the hangar, sending the marksman's long rifle out of his sight and threatening to do the same with his M3 were it not for the thing's sturdy strap digging into his EVA suit's shoulder. The world became a blur despite the training meant to condition Lupin's body to such scenarios, a rough impact at the back of his helmet causing the edges of Lupin's vision to darken for a few short moments before a sharp inhale forced his consciousness to return in full.

Lupin found himself largely in darkness though could feel that he was no longer in motion, at some point one hand had dug into the stonethread netting wrapped around a heavy cargo container that was locked into the floor paneling, as well as his reflexes had performed Lupin's stomach still felt like it was still tumbling end over end and he fought hard to keep its contents down.

"Th-This is Private Kennedy..." he stuttered over comms, Lupin's free hand shakily palming over whatever might still be attached to his suit's webbing, taking a few breaths to try and keep fighting the lightheaded feeling that'd settled in while drawing his pistol from its holster.

"If anyone else can still hear me... then please respond, over~" Lupin's fearful transmission finished, hearing a lot of cracking and static through his helmet but hoping that was simply all the ionization and radiation wafting through the now airless hangar, a combination of plasma weaponry being fired non-stop and sudden exposure to the harsh vaccum of space. With the pistol in his off hand Lupin slowly pulled his weightless body around the edge of the cargo container, keeping the sidearm close to his chest and trying desperately to see anything ten inches past his face.

Sebastian fired back at the enemy suits, holding the fire button down till his mag well was empty and the barrel of his gun was red hot. The enemy armor was almost upon him when everything went to shit...

One moment Sebastian was in the hanger, the next he was in space. The only sound he could hear for a few seconds was his own breathing, then his senses came back one by one. He somehow managed not to bite it in the explosion.

Taking a second, he toggled his comms on. "This is Private Armstrong. I'm still kicking. Updating the tactical link with my location." He updated to anyone that could hear him. Righting himself, he toggled a burst from his jets to stop his momentum and began searching the area.

Hangar

"MUTHAFU-" Carina's voice was rising to a roar as Lupin didn't seem to realize what he'd done. Gramma Callista always tried to raise her right. Her Aunt Esma wanting her to be just a little more lady-like. And her husband, Uncle Rodger just a little more normal, well adjusted. To quit the hellraising even if only a little. Even to this day she still distrusted the man, disliked him a bit, something her, and her father had seemed to bond over.

Her mother, Suku had tried to mold her into something better than herself and the suave, if formerly lecherous Rico. While Rico had always seemed a bit distant, if at first. Trying to raise a girl was a difficult task when one was more used to dealing with the bros. But she felt, in her mind at least that she'd wormed her way into his heart. He offered her advice. Stuff that usually overlapped with what her Uncle Wii taught. Both had a bit of a criminally minded streak to them. Hell, thanks to him she had access to all the free ice cream she wanted across the entirety of the borough with which the Sanroma clan called home. Seemed all the ice cream machines had a funny little exploit her dad had learned long ago. He'd even taught her how to hotwire cars, air bikes. Typical Nepleslian father-daughter time. All without the supervision of Suku of course.

But Carina had always been outspoken. A tomboy through and through. Full of fire and life. But still. The coffee-skinned sniper had committed a grievous sin that deserved the response hammered into her from all sides, and of herself. She'd been about to finish the beginnings of her second verbal assault, complete with a full-on right hook. That was until she felt it, more than heard it. That feeling of being punched in the gut. As if some ID-SOL had decided to slam his fist so hard into her she flew backward. It felt like her limbs would be popped from their sockets.

And that was what she did. It felt like her insides were trying to be yanked out of her back, even as her feet were ripped from the ground and almost into a hard vacuum. Then it all went black with a sharp pain as something hard slammed into her back and something else along her front.

--- Minutes Later ---

Darkness consumed her. As if the Burning Black Hand of Judgement that Pyros Thrull Westwood had spoken of somewhere or another had claimed her. Carina felt consciousness returning, but the pain along the back of her head, along her spine, her whole body seemed to not respond. It was a sense borne of being unable to even twitch a finger. A fear spurred her return to the airless light of the hangar as a shot of adrenaline was squeezed from glands and into her system. Lupin's call would go unanswered as she lay there, ragdolled near a container close by.

A ragged, croak escaped her lips. Lungs sought air which her suit freely provided even as her diaphragm wanted to refuse to assist in this endeavor. It hurt, HURT to breathe. That first gasp of a breath suffused oxygen-starved lung tissue. Carina felt herself working her jaw, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish out of water. Eyes blinking slowly as in disbelief even as she felt herself beginning to stir. That final thought, the one that had been targetted toward the sniper finally finished. "F-Fuckah..." it was as if her voice and the urge to get air into her lungs warred with each other as she spoke the end of her insult.

Managing to raise a hand, it slammed back down into the shiny metal deck plating. Then once more, and once more until finally the winded, and pained medic could raise her hands to her body. The back of her head hurt, and she'd lost consciousness. Her thoughts were a little slow, fuzzy. Likely a concussion, perhaps a minor one she wouldn't know without a scanner, or check the suit time. Without her Sergeant there, it'd be difficult to self-diagnose. Her hands roved over her torso, gently pressing at her sides. Checking for broken ribs, bruising, or fractures. With a small cry, she felt a sharpness along one side. Her breathing felt normal. Well. as normal as one could get considering what just fucking happened, but oxygen fed her body and brain once more. And it did so with little difficulty and an ache.

Likely bruised something that'd leave a mottled patch of deep purple and red along her skin.

With an almighty effort, Carina managed to roll to her side. With a cough came something wet, a little coppery, but not too much, still a healthy enough amount to set off the alarm bells. And they practically screamed as she did so and felt a white-hot pain shoot through her side. Another cough sent another shooting of pain to run up and down that side of her torso as a more constant, if less intense feeling settled in. Things felt a whole lot more fucked now as she gripped her free hand on the low container and tried to pull herself up, her other hand cradling her side.

She'd always been stubborn, even now against all the training SAW had taught her regarding such a situation that she was in, the medic couldn't control the need to be on her feet. The medkit had remained at her side, the rifle she left for now at its resting place near hand. With a little roar, part effort, part hurt, and all fortitude, her legs wobbled but she found her feet while panting.

HANGAR pre-present.


Otto
As the gilded power armoured heavy infantry began their decent on the team, Otto knew, their situation was bleak, leaning into a proper position, his rifle pressed tight into the armoured shoulder of his EVA suit and plate carrier. taking a breath, five shots rang out in rapid succession. A practiced speed in which the following magazine was prepared before the last brass fell. each round hitting the golden god, in an attempt to take the focus, from his team members and the overdramatic medic and eccentric demolitions expert. the following response from the gilded bastard was one Otto couldn't help but to expect. taking cover, the whine of aether whizzing past his position and the loud clap of the energy meeting the containers could have been described as ear-splitting. between shaky breaths, Otto sitting up to raise his rifle, before placing the weapon on stable ground. his entire body lurched towards the now open barrier. the pain of oxygen being ripped out of his lungs, took over his senses. until the EVA suit pressurized.

with a gasp the air filled his lungs, and the dire straits of his situation now became a reality. looking out into the stars, his breathing slowed. the communications came through the helmet as broken, muffled noise. his ragged breathing drowning out anything else. Ottos mind wandered.


Her jet black hair, the curious periwinkle complexion of his lover. remembering their time spent in Roger wilco, it seemed like so long ago now, The occasional message, coming through to his Datajockey. pictures of her life, friends, hobbies and a seeming happiness despite his absence.."Naoko..." the words came with such clarity, it was as though nothing had happened. seeing her smile, looking out through the window of his apartment, the sunlight beaming softly into the perch where she sat , her raven black hair falling in front of her face, a content smile on her lips. it was all he could muster until the muffled noise became clear." Alpha 1 this is Huntsman, I read you Lima Charlie,........how........me over?" looking around Otto began to come to, looking for anything that could help in his rather helpless situation.

Hanger
Lou

still behind cover as he peaked from the safety of the shuttle. the Golden power armour firing a string of Aether into his direction. causing the man to recoil quickly, falling back onto his backside."Fuck!! will you two stop fucking around and remember there are still active enemies in the vicinity!?" his words came loud over comms, directed at Lupin and Carina. catching a glimpse of their little charade. firing blindly he decided to peak once more after. seeing the armour now distracted by the rapid fire of their teammate, Lou pulled the detonator from earlier. hitting its switch it caused a distractingly large explosion, though as the explosion reached its climax, the Laughing marine lurched rear-ward towards the void, the air being expelled from his lungs, as the cold of space started to settle in. the EVA suit took what felt like an hour to pressurize. as it did so, Lou gasped for air choking hard, the muffled communications of Otto and Tobias rang out in his mind."t-this......is....Private Fekete.....anyone....." before long his ragged breaths led to his eyes becoming heavy, before finally succumbing passing out , as his semi limp body coasted into part of the wreckage, cracking his helmet slightly, causing a gentle spin.

Corridors - Tobias

An odd sense of vertigo permeated around Tobias as he righted himself. Oddly enough the feeling of being upside down was still possible in the directionless void of space when the realization hits that you are now standing, maglocked, to the ceiling in a corridor filled with bodies.

The implosion from the charge had pulled more than just himself as was evident when the vacuum effect pulled everyone in all the sister passageways towards the rent into space. From the damage and disfigurement on most of the corpses floating in the cramped passageways, it was clear many of them died from the blunt force trauma of being ripped away and pulled along mercilessly before they ever had a chance to asphyxiate.

It was a mercy none of the enemies of the DIoN deserved a voice gloated in the back of his head.

His call for a sitrep, however, went unanswered. His HUD clearly displayed he was transmitting but clearly, the lingering background effects of being too close to an antimatter gap implosion fighting the aetheric burst of an aether reactor going supernova was a simple blessing compared to what other end that scenario could have taken had the implosion not canceled out the blast.

What he did receive, however, was not a transmission but the static of a line unable to properly connect. Someone was broadcasting on their channel, and close enough that the outside interference wasn't choking out all else.

There were too many possibilities as to the source. Steve or his partner could still be alive if he cared to look for them, Duece somewhere in the ship might still be out there and trying to regroup, Locust was habitually hard to kill and had been moving away from the epicenter of the blast area last he saw her, and while he didn't know who was piloting it at least one operator should still be out there in the aggressor.

Of all of them, Steve and his fellow survivor had been the closest but were in the opposite direction from all the other possible team survivors. If he chose to attempt a regroup with them it would mean committing away from statistically the larger group in favor of closer allies...

Hangar - Lupin, Lou, Otto, Ana.

One by one small pinpricks of light seemed to flicker in the hangar.

For those that survived and were able to stay conscious and uninjured to take stock activated their EVA suits lights and began to appraise their surroundings.

The tank lay motionless, Its dual cannons still pointed down the hangar. Its crew, likely unsuited, suffocated inside.

One of the shuttles the raiders had arrived on was missing, Likely floating outside in the expanse. The other still held where it had landed, fresh skid marks on the hull plating evident that it had been dragged a few meters towards the former shield but was otherwise intact. And then as single sources of light turned into dozens as a weapon and suit lights turned on a new source of lights arose. At first it was just a slight sheen by one distant marine, his illumination cutting off with a barely perceptible flash. And then the marine closest to him. And then the next.

One by one and ever so slowly lights started winking out. It wasn't until someone managed to shine their weapon light and get an infective snapshot off that anyone paying attention got a glimpse of a streak of gold in the light and then the gunfire stopped. It was clear that the kuvies didnt have EVA suits on when they tried to counter the marines and reds. The only ones left would have been the enemy PA who were rated for space and regardless of how many of them survived it was one more than ideal number; Zero.

Those who understood what was going on could only watch in horror, their attempts at warnings falling on deaf ears as only the closest of communications seems to cut through the static; And even then only one out of every three words might be discernable.

Lou, Lupin, Otto, Carina and Anatevka were lucky to have been close enough when the shield failed that they had been pulled along and all had been relatively close to the one remaining shuttle and broke their descents on its mass and all had ended up around their ride and their communications were stable enough to at least understand one another. In fact, it was clear enough that by the time they all managed to lick their wounds and regroup under one of its wings that when the last one nearby to arrive came around they could all hear the cut off shriek of a surprise when before their eyes Carina was ripped away when a dark figure sped by faster than should have been possible in zero-gravity and snatched her away and cut into the same bulkhead the IPG team had passed through what seemed like so long ago.

Dumbfounded and still unable to react a new voice cut through the haze.

"Fuc- Wa- Tha- Shit?" the shirley voice of the forgotten pilot Windchime cut in through the comms as a silhouette appeared in the cockpit window, barely illuminated by the glow of instrument panels.

"Lea- 'Er. We gotta- 'O- Fore- Kills us!"


Location Unknown - Carina.

One moment she had been about to call out to her team. The next, whiplash had threatened to break her neck and all kinds of pain from a new force pressing on her injuries made Carina blackout when what felt like a fucking truck had hit her from the side and caused her to lose consciousness.

Now with her senses once again returning to her, she could feel her body limply whipping around and jerking with each turn as something carrying her by her waist like a sack of potatoes sped along what she could barely tell was some kind of narrow passageways in the occasional landmark she could make out when her awkward position allowed her visor light to occasionally catch a door, bulkhead, or mirrored passageway.

As if feeling the slight movements alerted her abductor to her awakening the pace slowed and she could tell just barely by the change in scenery that they passed into some kind of side room; What appeared to be some kind of empty storage room.

An unnatural feeling of fear was slowly creeping through Carina when she failed to locate her rifle.

Or her sidearm.

Knife...

Just about anything that could have fallen or been ripped away from her had. She was for all intents and purposes defenseless.

The feeling faded when her abductor let her float in the lack of gravity for a moment and righted the young medic to face them. The fear started to drain away when a suit of Brivita armor greeted them in her visor light. The clear modifications to the legs to accommodate the backwards legs of Locust making the odd but still familiar form more comforting and thoughts began to form in the young girl's mind about being possibly saved somehow.

But then fear and pain returned in waves when the statuesque operator launched out with one of her cybernetic legs and pinned Carina to a wall with enough force that she could feel the crack and then crunch as one of her ribs broke under the force, the air leaving her lungs and cutting off any attempt at a scream.

As if to add further pain the operator, still pinning her, leaned forwards, adding more pressure as she brought herself close enough to casually reach out poke Carina's visor several times experimentally before grabbing her head with both hands and forcing her to look right at her. Had Locust not been wearing the Brivita's helmet carina would have been looking right into the womans eyes.

Through the visor of the EVA suit, Locust could clearly see Carina's, however. That was clearly the goal as she kept her hands clamped on the EVA suits head and began to apply even more pressure to Carinas gut and stomach with her massive taloned 'netic but without puncturing the seal of the suit.

The pain and pressure grew exponentially by the second and besides feeling like a tank was pressing down on her chest a sharp pain registering in her chest made her training kick in when that pressure that was already making it hard to breathe increased.

Her broken rib was threatening to puncture one of her lungs!


Outside the ship - Sebastian

From outside the ship, Sebastian could get a full appreciation of the condition of the ship. Along its axis a full quarter of the ship had simply vanished, leaving barely enough structure left to keep the two halves together.

It wouldn't be flying anywhere anytime soon.

Whats more he could see the distant flashes of space combat as somewhere out there at least one SMDIoN or its allied vessels still gave all it got! It was when he saw this that the tiniest speck of movement caught his eye from one of the monoeyes. Enhancing it brought up the death throwes of two beings less beset on enjoying the view as him.

A crooked demon was latched onto a suit of golden powered armor, its wicked taloned fingers crushing the enemy's helmet with both hands. It would have been a moment of triumph had the long glaive of the enemy not been protruding through the front and out the back of the motionless red armor. The two had traded their lives unevenly as was made evident when a second golden figure struck by, the edge of his glaive cutting through the side of the crooked demon to ensure its death before zipping away into the distance.

His monoeyes tracking the still active enemy PA, Sebastian could tell his was unaware of him and was clearly flying back towards the open hangar. People must clearly still alive down there!

Locust's Creepy Closet


Carina's legs had wobbled a little as she let forth a ragged breath. Despite the vacuum of the bay, her ears had rung. Somehow that sensation just seemed to have happened all on its own. The pain was what was keeping her conscious. And the adrenaline rush of surviving a near-death experience. Her lips had begun to form a word, vocal cords, and breath about to engage in a verbal response when an exquisite pain erupted in her side once more. The medic hadn't so much as been able to scream due to blacking out. Her mind shutting part of itself down as a defense mechanism. There hadn't even been the chance or inkling of a moment to register what had hit her before going out like a light.

And then, sweet darkness and oblivion gave way to that very same grogginess she associated with a severe hangover. Or rather, the few she had treated amongst the Marines under her care just after leaving the training at SAW. Her head felt like a split melon once her eyes had fluttered open to slits, a rhythmic throb of white-hot agony bouncing along as she felt a tough as steel arm around her waist. Carrying her. Her first thought as her vision returned and the unfamiliar corridors of Kuvexian design seemed to curve and twist, and turn with its gaudy shades of colors only the truly evil greedy corporate assholes on Nepleslia could appreciate. Of course, she kept watching, taking it all in as she couldn't find words. The light of her suit's visor had afforded her a glimpse of what was going on, she just couldn't manage a word as her mind, sluggish as the insanely toxic mud of Nepleslia's Green Sea seemed to be coursing in her brain. Pain and confusion eroding whatever sense of coherency she managed to pull together.

From her side carry position, Carina couldn't feel the reassuring weight of her rifle, nor the iron she packed on her hip. The Matsobuki family knife she just plain couldn't feel if it was gone or not. Her body was slightly numb from the overload of sensation it had been under. But once the sludge in her brain slowly began to crawl back to true awareness, her hazel eyes adjusted to a more fully focused form of their old selves. Those reassuring sensations. Weapons, the very things any green-blooded Nepleslian would feel naked without were gone. And here she was behind enemy lines. On an enemy vessel full of gold plated cocksuckers and their reindeer humanoid companions. The slow and shakey check of herself, of the missing weaponry, had yielded nothing and even now she could feel a trickle of apprehension that slowly gave way to wariness and finally just a dash of fear.

Yet when she was released, that free-floating sensation, the release of pressure on her battered form. Of weightlessness seemed to ease the electric sensations shooting up and down her side. Yet once her body seemed to slowly turn in an orbit, her head turning just so. Carina caught a glimpse of a blacker than black suit of armor. It took a second for her mind to register who or what it was. When recognition finally hit her, it wasn't just comfort and good cheer of the possibility of getting out of this clusterfuck alive but something else... those digitigrade metallic legs caused her battered adrenal glads to squeeze a bit more of that substance her race so loved and craved into her bloodstream. It was like getting a good jolt of amphetamines in the system.

Locust. The creepy as fuck IPG spook. Amongst the creepy as fuck IPG spooks, this thing was king of the hill and Papa Vanderhuge would have argued that point. But at that moment she was it. As if on reflex, her hand slowly drifted to her hip, to the big iron that would have been there... and she never got close. One minute she'd been freely floating, the next pinned against a wall with not one ounce of give. And a big'ol fucking foot claw pressed on her Lulu-defiled and battered chest.

Just as the wind had once again been beaten out of her that sensational crunch and snap of something deep within her torso shot an indescribable amount of pain that threatened to black her out once more. But that surge of pure alertness and energy warred against the behemoth threatening to overwhelm. And it was a losing battle as the pressure just seemed to build, and build, and build as the armored giant leaned in. The faceless plate of a helmet leaning in close as things just seemed to ramp up. Of course, Locust could see her face, twisted as it was in such agony and the free-floating gobbet of spit and blood drifting around without a care. That damnable tapping on the clear composite visor hadn't helped, and the worst thing was she could hear it inside the pressurized helmet of her suit. 'Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.' And then she felt the sharp yank of too strong hands upon the protective helmet. Her neck complied and she came face to face with anonymity.

But fuck... those legs were a dead giveaway. And that creepy sensation Carina always seemed to feel. The feeling of being looked at, when the hairs on the back of one's neck stood on end did so now. And the simple fact she had put two and two together would have had them in a permanent state of rigor mortis if it was possible for hair follicles.

And even so. Face twisted as it was and staring at possibly the worst creeper since those two NPCS agents that had dragged her across Fortuna to a young, dashing and back then in her mind lovingly awesome father caused her to let forth a wet gurgle, not unlike the beginnings of a chuckle which was cut off as the pressure built, seeming to climb at an almost exponential rate even as her SAW trained mind screamed at her at what was going to happen next. That rib of hers, broken as it was, was just about one of the most dangerous things in the room and that was saying something when you had a dead fish-eyed monster woman trying to squeeze the life out of you. Carina swore she could almost feel the bone inching its way toward one of her pretty, pretty lungs.

The woman at that moment had reminded her of a dog back on Kennewes. Back when she spent a year with her mother's side of the family. The Matsobuki clan. Nexim City wasn't the greatest place in the world to live near. But she had felt relatively safe considering she had a small army of uncles who'd likely slaughter anyone in their path to get the precocious and cute as a button niece that they were now saddled with back. Or face Suku's and their mother, Nancy's wrath.

It had been a Rok'Veruian Rottweiler. Built like a truck, almost as tall as she was even now. With a bite strength comparable to what was on her chest even as she thought of the memory. They'd been used to great effect during the initial engagements when the First Assault Fleet had parked its ass in orbit and started dropping Marines to the ground from orbit. Stories of the attack dogs ripping armored, NMX Nekos in two had circulated and became a legend. And had caused a brief surge in their breeding. Her parents had adamantly refused to get her one. For she had Mug the Pug, the Matsobuki Nexim pug at her side at all times. The floating shit machine of a companion with which she used as a WMD on the Matsobuki's neighbor's lawn whenever the Elysian Patrician woman got bitchy with her or was mean to her friend, Gerard the woman's son.

But enough about that.

The dog she'd come across, the rotty had been rabid. Crazed. And an incredible danger to anyone who crossed its path. Being the product of some mad bastard on a mind-altering drug bender's way of a 'Fuck You' to all the dog shows he'd failed in or so the story went. Genetic engineering was a bitch. It had snarled, foaming at the mouth with an utterly crazed look in its eyes as it ripped apart one of the local townies within seconds. The screams and horde of bodies surging to get away from it had roused two of the planet's local Marine garrison after it had ripped a Crooked Demon's arms off with its teeth and the rest soon after, not before it had crushed a good portion of the cockpit as well. The tenacious dog monster had taken an HPAR shot to the body and had kept on coming at the two Hostile suits before finally being cut down in full-on Nepleslian fashion. Complete and utter overkill.

This woman made her think of that dog. What it could have done to those suits. A bite that could crush Durandium plate was dangerous, and put it in the body of what was essentially a dog version of an ID-SOL made a potent mix of fuckery. And now here she was. A clawed metallic foot on her chest, a broken rib slowly on its way of puncturing a lung for which she felt the bone wriggling its way towards and all she could think of was Locust being like that animal. No Hostiles or HPARs to save her. None at all. The suit's systems tried desperately to compensate for her more labored breathing by trickling just a bit more pure oxygen into the normal mix.

An almost fatalistic humor came over her then. She'd been five when Star Base Golding had been partly nuked. A pirate trying to engage their ship with an old Yui scout. And the Marines having boarded the station with all the badass glory you could muster from the crew of the NSS Alliance draped over them like a well-worn and fashionable cloak. It had been her first 'action' in the 'military' as the 'littlest marine' of the group back when it hadn't been the Democratic Imperium. But the Star Empire of Nepleslia. Where manly men dealt death with a grenade in one hand and an old ESG in the other intent on fucking up someone's day then chainsmoking their way into a panty raid to a doctor's room for bragging rights.

What little air that was left in her lungs, and the creeping death that slowly made its way forward caused her to emit a gurgling laugh that Locust couldn't hear in the vacuum between them. But it was clearly visible to the unhinged creeper. So this was the bullet her instructor had mentioned. Everyone had one with their name on it. You never knew how, or when it'd take you out. But it would. Eventually.

An almost fearless, yet full of pain smile quivered on her rosy lips. She'd faced down worse than this woman. Had LIVED with worse than this. So she reached up, the zero-g environment making the movement slow but discernable. The polymerized hand curled until a single finger was left. If this crazy bitch was going to fuck with her, kill her, or just for kicks inflict horrible pain for their sick enjoyment, which her SAW training had also included a bit of psychology in it when dealing with patients she'd fuck right back. But in a fashion of confusion and mimickry.

'Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.' the same number of times Locust had done to her helmet, Carina did to the woman's faceless variant. In the exact same spot. The smile turned into a grimace and then a grin again. The woman expected fear of pain, of the creeping death. Carina was going to give her the opposite. But in just a bit of a different way. Better to die with a big fuck you in trolling the enemy than going out in a whimper. Just like she'd been taught on the Dust Devil, the Acadia, Francia where giant, fur-covered reptilian mammoths that breathed fire lived, and when she'd walked the broken streets of Funky City after the Battle of Nepleslia and met the old man, himself, Robert Davis or down the local borough at night in Los Apagos. She had her own ace in the hole. And if she could get it working. It'd be pissed. Or she would if her Hypolathe was there.

Through the pain, through the fear that curled around her heart with which she held close and tight. Oh fuck she wished she had something to fire into Locust's face right now. Or go out with an explosive bang. Instead, she waited for her little friend to stir from her slumber. Elsae wouldn't be happy. That girly man, Fian Vel Steyr had never asked for her back when he'd given Elsae to her on the Dust Devil while the girly bastard and the Marine crew went to knock skulls on Golding, or just plain forgot. And the then pipsqueak Carina had, had no intention of doing so.

Carina mouthed the word: 'Sup?' not even knowing if her general comms was still active. That mouthed word could have even just been her actually saying it. Even as she felt the pain build in her chest, and the ever-increasing sense of her doom looming.

'I am awake, Ms. Sanroma.' a warm, feminine voice filled the darkening corners of the Private's pain-wracked mind. Fian Vel Steyr's personal JANE. Well, HER personal JANE now that the girly bastard had forgotten her again for the last eleven years and was in the Sanroma's mind legitimate salvage and therefore hers by the rite of 'Finder Keepers'. With that familiar voice in her head, Carina just leaned her head forward a bit. Staring into the opaque faceplate of Locust's Britva suit. She was still in a world of pain no amount of Industrial Cleaning Alcohol couldn't cure... if she had any. But her eyes seemed to sharpen. Focus. The pain was there. But there. That sparkle. The amused, fatalistic humor stood out still just that something seemed to simmer with a quiet, cold rage behind the eyes.

'Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap' again against Locust's helmet. It was all in her head. 'Intrusion software and viral packages engaged, counter intrusion systems engaged. Initiating attack and subversion protocols.'

Since the crazed IPG murdermachine hadn't seemed to kill her comm unit, or they were just too damn far, or deep in the enemy ship. She instead opened a channel to Locust. While her mind couldn't fully comprehend Elsae as a swirling mass of code so intricate and complex programming, instead it just gave off the impression and sensations of a predator ready to spring. All she needed was an outlet.

It was as if her father was being channeled through her. " 'ey, baby, " that Los Apagos swagger and drawl crawling through the little grunts of pain hitching her voice a little with the faint crackle over the channel. Sweet fucking god did she just sound like her dad? If Carina wasn't on the verge of death, she probably would have been kicking herself in the shins. It was time one monster met another.

Maybe it was his body still not being used to unexpected decompression or maybe the gravity of the situation was finally catching up to Private Kennedy, he honestly couldn't care which at this point, but the deafening thumping of his heart was bouncing around the young lad's head with all the ferocity of a danger close artillery barrage. His cracks were starting to open up, but Lupin's training had cost the tax-payer far too much for that to be showing through just yet, so instead of breaking down into a well-deserved panic attack he slammed one EVA-suit clad fist into the shuttle's hull.

"Considering what they've been doing to our armored infantry I highly doubt we could get the shuttle up and out before those golden bastards target it... fuck~" his half-garbled transmission offered up, a thoughtful frown following up that muttered expletive before Lupin continued.

"I'm fairly certain Sargent Valentine is dead at this point but I'm not letting the OpFor take anyone else from this squad. You've got a perfectly good tank sitting there, I'm sure between the demo-expert and the spook you can figure out how to get its guns going... I'll try to be back soon but don't wait for me~" Lupin informed the others, it was probably the most talking any of the squad had heard from their quiet marksman and he wasted little time getting moving.

Lupin used his suit's bloodied appearance to keep a low profile, carefully moving between cover as the young half-Hanyan crossed the hangar, slowly working through the sea of suspended corpses. Most faces that weren't blown off were understandably frozen in various stages of screaming, their last conscious thought before having their souls ripped out from their bodies. The marksman however couldn't afford the luxury of such poetic thoughts and instead continued deeper into the ship, closer to the antimatter bomb's ground zero.

The deeper Lupin went the more the ship's condition worsened, flickering lights causing the young man to crack out a self-oxidizing flare, holding the angry ball of red light ahead of himself while bracing his M3's handguard against his forearm. Lupin's pace slowed as the corridors began to snake out into more and more pathways like a series of veins and arteries, he honestly didn't know where the fuck to go but going with the age-old rule of sticking against the left wall felt like the best course of action.

"Sanroma... Sanroma? Carina, can you hear me? where did you scamper off to~" Lupin's noticeably shaky voice broadcasted over short-range radio as he tried to get a better estimation of where the young medic might be, if she was even still alive at all, rifle's muzzle slowly swinging from side to side as he scanned each doorway he went past. A deluge of thoughts threatened to steal away his focus, things like how up to date was his brainspider's backup, but Lupin fought it all back as he half-floated down a section of hallway.

Corridors - Tobias

Tobias weighed the choices. Attempting to regroup with the marines might have a larger chance of survival in the long term, but he would be vulnerable for longer. The mission was accomplished, and so Toby now began to focus more on the short term. He would try to link up with the closer survivor and then the larger group.

He began to push himself through the corridors, as the Britva had no maneuvering jets, making his way towards the other signal. He kept his able arm on his gun, ready to fire at a moment's notice, flipping around and pushing with only his feet. The grace of his movements, which belied his IPG training, was somewhat ruined by his dislocated arm flapping slightly.

As he came around a corner, three-quarters of the way there, he encountered a Kuvexian in an environment suit. Both individuals simply stared for a moment, before Tobias raised his rifle and shot the Kuvexian once in the chest and once in the helmet. As alien blood spilled in globes, any small twinge of guilt that the young operator might have felt was suppressed instantly by his conditioning. "Dirty Kuvie would have tried to slit my throat if I so much as looked the other way" was the only thought running through his head as he continued the rest of the way to the transmission signal.