RP: ISC Phoenix [Mission 4-L] - My Head Explodes

[Luca]

Kennewes, a hellish battlefield
Screaming across the sky and not holding up on taking the opportunity of attack was Moonsong, now back in action, flying back over the zone. Unable to get a sensor lock on the RF signal thanks to how many interfering signals there were and the radiant heat. White beams striking at the heat sinks and the starship grade boosters of OUREX on its legs as it was making its grand leap.

It was a good thing that Makari wasn't quite collected to fire as the OUREX leapt from the ruins of the facility and at the steaming rivers, desperately trying to quench its thirst in a blazing forest. The water was as hot as its railgun - it couldn't quench its thirst properly like this, not without burning everything else around it. The forest felt like a desert full of twisted trees. When OUREX landed, it was possible to get a clear shot as it sent plumes of dirt and dust into the air, clearing quickly.

Luca saw its legs opening up, armour panels sliding open, and damaged internally - it was doing something to cool of desperately. Luca grinned as he saw OUREX compromise its defences, but he saw something wasn't quite right. He saw Rebeka moving after it with something in her hands - looked like a power core - she was going to plant it on the thing. "Shit, no, no, no," he grimaced, leaping down from his perch and skating, weaving past an obelisk for cover as he tried to close the gap with Rebeka, moving into burning vegetation.

As he pushed through burning shrubs, they crumbled apart as he pushed them apart. "Rebeka! Get back! We're going to shoot it!" He yelled over the howling noise of the battlefield into his comms, voice drowned out by fire and the howling of the OUREX's microwave emitters at Rebeka. "Throw the core in its legs and run, I'll-!" Luca saw the vegetation around where he was standing start to shrivel before his eyes. Eyes, too, were upon him.

♫ Rocky Grey - Kill or be Killed ♫

Luca's first instinct was to bolt rather than fight. Every piece of metal on his body felt white hot for a split second and his comms distorted into static as he bladed through the burning forest, leaping across the river and giving himself some distance from its microwaves - distance was good, the further he was, the less it burnt. It didn't chase him though. It was thirsty. "Shoot! Shoot!" He cried out into a comm line full of static. The microwaves must've fried the electronics.

Seiren Isbala meanwhile saw his hero dart away into the fire, faster than ever as OUREX seemed to be tracking it, trying to kill him. He let loose his blast of aural assault, striking at the leg of OUREX where Rebeka was not trying to plant her explosive. Rebeka could see the unprotected internals of the thing she was limpeted to buckling and crushing before her, damaging the leg some. More was needed - more force to bring this monster down.

More came. Allison and Echelon had finally gotten their senses together and pointed the main gun of the Norris at OUREX's leg, after Seiren had fired at it, trying to get a clear shot. They fired, an enormous bolt of plasma striking the knee, splashing at the internals. So close to Rebeka, though, she could feel the heat of it - drop in the bucket compared to what the OUREX had dealt to her.


For the first time since resurrection, and alone amongst the embers and with static howling in his ear, Luca was scared. He had no idea what was going on, and he just heard another horrible noise. "EVERYBODY! SHOOT THE FUCKING THING'S LEGS! ITS OPEN!" He raised his rifle and started firing bursts at its legs, bullets bouncing off the hull, and striking the panels. "SHOOT IT! SHOOT IT!! FUCKING SHOOT IT!!!"

Some of his shots were connecting, but they were small bullets compared to what the rest of the Phoenix could bring to bare, but with his communications device fried, nobody knew where Luca was right now. He fired a grenade. It landed by OUREX's foot and exploded, sending a plume of dried mud upwards at Rebeka. He moved in to close the gap, trying to -

OUREX returned fire, the ground exploding in a line coming towards him as a gatling grenade launcher intended for starships was firing at him with antimatter explosions. It didn't need to be accurate with a devastating weapon. He ran, he sprinted, he bladed away, knowing he couldn't survive that. He bolted north towards the hill, diving behind it as the grenades failed to lead him. Without those phantom blades, he couldn't have made it, collapsing behind the hill and realising that his injuries sustained were starting to catch up with him.

Luca couldn't feel his left arm. He looked at it and found it held in place by the armour he was wearing, unable to flex his spasming fingers. A metal shard had pierced through the durandium visor of his helmet and across his forehead - stopped by the helmet from taking any more off. Inside his visor, blood stains splattered against the transparent metal. He couldn't see his chest or belly lying down, but his right side hurt and the armour felt like it was gone.

But Luca didn't pass out just yet. He couldn't. He begun crawling along the hill on one arm and one good leg, firing the Grapple Stunner at the curve of the hill and dragging himself along the crest of the hill for cover. Once at an acceptable place, he laid on his back and saw the horrid damage across his torso and abdomen, grabbing the rifle and popping the spent grenade out of it - it was so hard to do with just one hand - and pushing a flare in.

Bracing the stock of his rifle against the ground and pointing straight up, he fired the flare and let the rifle fall down. He had to let them know he had escaped first, while fumbling with the huge capacitor batteries to the Battery Railgun and jamming the fingers of the Grapple Stunner into them, powering something in the Stunner to keep him alive that he'd swapped out before the mission started. It was the best he could do for himself right now. He was out of the fight.

But OUREX was looking quite shaky too. It didn't have long to go and it couldn't pull all of its stops. If what Aiesu said was right, this thing could either buckle at the legs, or overheat.

 

[Eistheid]

Kennewes, a hellish battlefield

Tracing the path of the behemoth as it made it's graceless flight across the field Tamamo continued to fire, the twin beams vanishing into the inferno beneath the beast even as it came to a shaky stop, now the subject of the entire ground force's wrath. Notably they weren't all doing so well. Luca himself was forced to retreat wounded under fire, the Norris was already heavily damaged, and the discharges seemed to have disoriented the Havoc's crew enough to slow their rate of fire.

Seiren's LEAF proved that the Yamataian inventor had learned much since the early, questionable development of the weapon system that was now illuminating the battlefield while producing a sound that Tamamo could feel within Moonsong's cockpit. Rebeka notably wasn't doing well in her valiant effort to take down the behemoth, her frame already crippled she seemed to be using the generator as a makeshift grenade the desperation for their enemy's destruction evident though its necessity still in question, they weren't winning, but they hadn't lost yet either.

With her initial target the heavy Frame's boosters hopefully disabled, Tamamo turned her attention to the distorted RF indicators putting together the intent as the two targets resolved no longer lost in a haze of radiation. Realizing it was time to preform her task, Tamamo shifted the Hoplite once more from fighter to intermediary mode, cutting her momentum and boosting herself upward improving her angle of attack. This time her target was the dome atop the Frame, likely a sensor installation that was aiding the unit's combat capabilities much as its drones had.

Once again twin needles of white lanced outward from the Hoplite's guns, Moonsong's efforts eroding her target once again in an attempt at denying the Frame function as opposed to trying for outright destruction. One more action working toward keeping everyone alive, and encouraging the completion of the mission.

 

[OsakanOne]

The sounds of battle, alone.

The beast was still moving: rolling like a tank now until its mind found new connections and new ways of walking. As if through sheer will or determination.

For whatever reason, IT REFUSED TO DIE.

stood tall, black against the light, the monster's hooves kissed water. And it began to drink.

Massive rectangular scales upon its body opened. Steam poured into the mirage air. And then the sword went back: skyward, humming as banks of potential were lit deep inside its bowels: clicking like grit teeth, bruxism in morse-code burning air like baby thunder.

The hate of moonsong poured through the air, clipping, lancing and finally shattering white studded black, breaking the beast's eye. Then its legs. It didn't flinch. But eyelashes of metal scattered. The dome fell to the ground in tatters, finally.

It still stood proud. Blind, but proud, coolant exhaled from the thing like the seconds leading to a launch - ice along its joints forming in differential.

And then it called into the sky again. And again. And again. It kept going. Each scream chased by a straight beam of lightning, soundless - felt, but not heard.

Each shot was a near-miss: memorization of last known position.

A metal object the size of a trash-can scattered silently next to the Kestrel, metal molten as it flew apart like shrapnel -- having struck what Echelon would confirm based on its missing presence to be some sort of weather satellite. Then another, closer.


"H0W 1S 1T ST1LL F1R1NG 4T US?"

"Whatever was correcting it is still doing its job. Try to imagine a giant game of battleships."

"BUT 1TS BL1ND. 4ND W3 3V4D3D."

The friction of magnetic fields in its joints howling as it made swift corrections between each shot beneath them.

Something was drumming on the hull that made the two pause and listen. Satellite shrapnel entrails.

"It understands orbital trajectories. Gravitational parabolic. Its designed not to need a line of sight to strike a target in orbit, because the shot can curve around a planet, just like a satellite does. Ever play warmer-colder?"

"Y0U'R3 S4Y1NG S0M3TH1NG 1S T3LL1NG 1T W3'R3 H3R3? TH3 S4T3L1T3S 4R3 4LL D0WN, 413SU"

"Well, what else could it be?"

Still it stood. Still firing. Like a semi-automatic gunman. The sheer friction of each shot igniting the atmosphere.

On board the Kestrel, the two looked at each other. The drumming was getting louder.

Aiesu's expression was increasingly becoming one of worry as Echelon stared her down with an intensity the construct, nor the l'manel she was sourced from had ever seen before.

The sky was burning beneath them. Swirling like the smoky gaseous exzema, lit like glimmers of tinfoil in the fog.

And then light. Another thunder of shrapnel sent the lights onboard the Kestrel into near darkness.

"Echelon? Are you there? What happened?"

"H0LD ST1LL. 1'M S0RRY."

"What are you doing?"

Beneath, the total slow moving arcs of tracer fire pinned on the beast, mostly glancing off or ricocheting were finally hitting their marks proper. Armor and and construction sloughing off. Cables spilled.

But still it kept firing: Like a gunman before a firing squad that just wouldn't go down.

A gleam of plasma driven light bolted down between the thing's legs. Rebeka stared at the angry ball of hate in her frame's hands with mach one eyeballs, frowning at the way the AURA aetheric reactive poweplant hadn't gone off as she continued in reverse. And then lit up again by L-Mark II's, she was brought down into the lake at the monster's feet. Trapped in a sarcophagus of twisted glowing hot metal.

And all this unfolded before Luca.

Onboard the Kestrel, the drumming was finally starting to quiet down. Echelon was dragging something through the hallway in the dim light; a pale body, leaving a trail of white blood across the deck. Her mechanical hands forced a lock in the flooring open, foot pushing the construct into the hole beneath the floor. Pouring into the same space they had used for the Bagman interrogation, lined with thick heavy lead. Clacking shut. Heavy locks and panels sliding. Sealed.

Signal Lost.

 

[Moogle]

"Nononono, you do NOT get to just cool off!"

Seiren punched various buttons and switches on his console, rerouting all his power to the weapons. Until he turned to the dial controlling the speakers themselves and wrenched it hard, forcing the analogue to make an uncomfortable crunch noise. A bad crunch.

"Oooooh no. Nononono that's not good no!" he babbled, glancing across readouts while he was eying the now-stuck button. All the power was going to the speakers, alright, but he turned it up to 11. 11 was not on the list of available options. Seiren pulled a switch and bailed out the back of the LEAF, which was still automatically attempting to stabilize from the maximized-now-overloading output. And he ran.

The LEAF let off an even more horrible shriek as a massive burst of chaotic, resonant plasma, followed by the half-bubble of the plasmate shield followed. The LEAF itself lit like a Pasco celebration before shuddering into darkness.

And still, he ran.

 

[ShotJon]

Zeta steered hard left, turning the tank south west and moving closer to the rest of the gang. "I will get you closer!" The driver shouted at Makari and sped up. She planned to cut the line between the Mech and her friendlies. "We need to take out the leg before it gets into the river! Get him!" Zeta said to Makari and moved the tank even faster.

 

[Phe0n1x]

Makari managed to shake off his shock and acknowledged Zeta's shout. He pivoted the main cannon at the OUREX, looking for a clear line of fire. He wasn't quite sure where to blast the thing, but he figured the newly opened leg things would be a good target. I mean, either it was some fancy weapon or the thing was attempting to cool itself. Either way, the legs seemed to be optimum target. As they approached, Makari sighted in a leg and reloaded the normal rounds. He hoped Luca wasn't in the line of fire when he pressed the button to expell all eight rounds at the leg closest to the tank. "Here goes nothing," he said to no one in particular and opened fire.

 

[Luca]

Kennewes, a hellish battlefield
From the crest of the hill Luca had dragged himself up to view the battle, he saw the battle unfolding. That thing was still standing, it was drinking the river and all the moisture it could from an already boiling hot source which was draining away fast. It wasn't in his favour. The thing was still taking shots at the Kestrel, and Luca didn't know if it was hitting it, or not. Echelon had gone silent. Rebeka had gone down in a blaze.

He didn't even think he could outlast what he was face to face with right now. Maybe if there was an afterlife, now would be the perfect time to start thinking of how to haunt Aiesu, wherever the hell her original self was. Worst of all, he couldn't cry for help over his radio - it was fried. Luca had to do what little he could to contribute to the increasingly dire battle - he couldn't just watch the thing keep on stomping for water.

♫ Devilish - Stage 7, Prairie ♫

A round struck it in the knee, then another, and another flew between its legs and blasted a dried tree into matchwood. Every explosion hitting the legs forcing rapidly expanding gas and heat through the place it was supposed to cool from - components within damaged and burnt, wearing out faster than the machine was meant to cope. Another bolt of pure plasma heat from the Norris struck at the underside of the thing, shot a little off, and having to charge another.

Hot on its heels was the last blast from the LEAF, sending a wave of pure, sound-powered Plasma, cutting another hole and lighting the battlefield in a prismatic beam that tore through OUREX stronger than ever, but leaving the LEAF powerless, the inventor escaping - feeling the intense heat and arid dryness wash over their body as they retreated on foot.

Luca meanwhile reached down to his side and slid his custom HHG from its holster; Black finish with Francian Hellwood grips, chambered in .460, a true magnum round. However, at the distance Luca was from OUREX he couldn't even hope to hit the broad side of a barn. Using his wrong hand, and forcing his good eye into the sights awkwardly - unable to draw a bead mentally on the target and unable to perceive depth correctly.

He couldn't even force a scream of anguish out of his throat, instead firing wildly until the hammer kept hitting the backs of spent cartridges. He watched the comparatively tiny explosions ... and the final two rounds of the Havoc's salvo smash into its other leg as the others had before it, with only another missing mark.

Ourex was limping like an elephant bristling with the spears and arrows of persistent hunters. The hunters so many times its lesser in strength, but never holding back on sheer determination though it'd crushed one of their own - and was getting closer and closer to finally drawing a bead on the team's mode of transport and home.

But it lost the target. It was no longer with any point of reference - all satellites were eliminated and the telemetry's predictions begun to strike consecutive misses and movement data of the target had changed - who'd now disappeared. It was blind, even with an intuitive understanding of placing parabolic shots, enabling it to strike from anywhere on the planet into space - it was unable to operate effectively.

But still it lumbered - a knee buckling from explosions and heat as the gyroscopes inside desperately self-righting by overbalancing during the walk, moving with a noticeable stagger towards the misty creek - once a river, now boiled hot in the air. It couldn't get closer. It shouldn't. One amongst them had the right idea to run away, sprinting through the charred heath, radiating heat everywhere and burning the pint-sized frame pilot.

And though he ran away, he knew in his gut that the beast can't reach water - who knows what it'd do? Though it was bleeding and hurt bad, it was still moving. Freakish, wounded, awesome, sublime.

Even as its knee warped and cracked further, rooting it to the spot and making it tip forward into a kneeling position - so close yet so far away from the diminishing water, now becoming unable to reach it.

But it wasn't dead yet. They had to make sure.

 

[Eistheid]

Kennewes, a hellish battlefield

When the orbital fire ended, Tamamo was forced to consider the implications of the continued fire even after the sensor dome had been slagged. Given the producer she doubted that the unit was engaging in blind fire practices against an orbital target, so logically it had briefly enjoyed a secondary targeting aid, but what? Leaving the question unanswered Tamamo watched through Moonsong's sensors as the heavy frame lumbered forward under fire from both tanks, and the result of the LEAF's unique weapons system. Even as she watched it staggered and fell, but that wasn't enough.

Swinging around in a tight arc, Tamamo guided Moonsong's frame well away from the main gun and began to fire at the joint, the twin lances of the particle beams focusing in on the joint that drove the motion of its main gun, perhaps if she was lucky she'd be able to slag the material enough to detach the main gun. Even with the combat winding down at it was Tamamo kept herself alert, ready to deal with other possible threats like the vertical launch missiles, the Lorath L-Mark-Twos, and the microwave weapons. While picking apart at the beast was well and good it was hardly helpless and she wasn't about to let it line up a shot.

 

[Moogle]

Seiren's feet padded the scarred ground in large strides - as large as he could make, given his stature. and only when he finally reached a massive rock did he stop to hide behind it and fumble through his pouches for a small white plastic box. Trembling fingers flung it open, revealing a lid with a simple colour coded chart and several matching pills. He took the red one - was it iodyne? Iodyde? It mattered little - and stuffed it in his mouth, swallowing though he was dry with fear. And spotted his HIPR, laying a short distance away.

He peeked over the edge, seeing the damage the thing had taken - but it still wasn't down. He thought. Decided.

Seiren dashed for the HIPR, snagging it and slinging the massive infantry weapon onto his back, and then towards the massive half-ruined complex. He reached into another pouch and retreived a bundle of high-strength wire with a hook on one end and a ring attatched to another. The ring he looped onto his right hand. His left extended and flicked his wrist, turning it into a metal gauntlet. He dangled the hook in front of the palm and. . .

FTHWIP!

The hook sailed upwards, catching on the edge of the building. He mounted his metal glove onto the wire, and with a little wiggle Seiren was pulled up to the rim. After a few moments of struggle, he was finally on the edge and began aiming.

Every shot had to count. Maximum power, only a few blast caps on hand. And recoil like a motherfucker, built for a trained soldier.

Seiren pulled the trigger.

 

[Phe0n1x]

"Why won't this damn thing die!" Makari exclaimed as he reloaded the main gun and changed his target to the center of mass of the OUREX. "Fine, switching target to maximum accuracy," he told the team before firing eight more rounds into the OUREX. He ground is teeth, why wouldn't this thing die? It wasn't ofen that he hated how advanced tech got in the universe, this was one of those times.

"Zeta, how close can you get us while still being relatively safe? I want to be as point blank as possible."

 

[ShotJon]

"I can go up and kiss the bastard with my front plate!" Zeta said back to Makari. "This luv has gravimetric shielding, that stops even Scalar shite. His Microwave wank won't do anything to us as long as we stay in. Did Luca close the hatch behind him?"

Zeta stepped on the gas. The tracks of the tank turned and bit into the ground as the giant brick of a tank launched forward again. "I'll try to get you close and find some dip in the ground to aim as up. Shoot the sod in his underside or something. That might do the thing. And if it won't I will bloody ram the wanker!"

 

[OsakanOne]

Still, deafening. The sky, dark red, everything black: light, seemingly engulfing itself, turning inside out and folding in n itself as in the distance, the sun was setting.


♫ Peter Gabriel - "My Body is a Cage"

A low whirr sounded: That howling of the thing spooling up once more. Its knee was shattered, the joint oozing florecent liquid across the ground that dissolved the top soil effortlessly as still it kept going -- dragging one leg behind itself: jointless one-piece tread rolling to drive in place of actual walking.

The main gun was veering like the aim of a drunk: tired in loose rings as the thing began charging again. Steam oozed, metal bubbling and warping over the former heat-sinks over the legs and the back of the machine. The doors to its missile-launch-bays dented and warped out of shape so badly they couldn't open along its back.

Rebeka was subjected to a front-row seat - the sheer heat cracking one of her doll like-eyes, amber fluid pouring out from the side: trapped in the frame as the thing edged closer.

The two arm mounted L-Mark II's spun up, both pouring a clear line of tracer-fire up toward moonsong through the sky though within a few seconds the left weapon lit up like fire-works, the barrel assembly slowing to a stand-still before secondary explosions went off somewhere inside the machine: the entire front pod falling to the ground at the machine's feet as still with monstrous dedication the massive anti-starship minigun continued to chase down Moonsong.

The cannon finally screamed. Again. And again. And again, determined to try and find the Kestrel. Its guesses were still worryingly educated: accurately hitting the shrapnel guts of satellites in orbit. The huge wide sword like thing slowly began to glow: first orange, then red and soon a brilliant white before it went up in a brilliant light: the sheer heat igniting the remaining L-Mark II which exploded brilliantly, knocking the thing clean off its feet.

Finally, it was coming falling, though not without victim. The ground rumbled as it sunk, remaining good leg writhing, swaying, struggling before finally the thing's lower half went limp.

Broken red eyes watching, trapped.

Rebeka had searched unimpending day and night for the last eleven years for a place an unknowable distance from known space: Home. Proof it was still there. Evidence. Anything. During her time here, she'd soaked up every experience like a sponge. Every encounter with these things that walked, saw and groped on two yet only thought on two and sang and dreamed with only one but did so together.

Rebeka thought of sugar. Of oils. Of grit and sweat. Of smiles. The sound of laughter. The smell of gunpowder. The noise of foot-steps. The strange things they did with their hands and eyes, communicating so much by saying so very little. The way they rested on this knife edge between killing eachother and loving one another, seemingly for no reason at all other than they could. Irrational. Primitive. But filled with so much promise.

Sana, the guiding hand that allowed her to feel and be as these strangers did. Miles, the advocate who rescued her originally: scheming, intelligent, caring. Stalwart: the mind who's legacy would leave what would become constructs. Dico, the first Lorath she'd ever grown close to.

Elisa Metea, a Nepleslian whom she'd left her genetic legacy upon and within. Lilliaus, like her but autonomy given intelligence. Tai Shichou, a genius who stepped through time and decyphered aether for the truth she thought only those like her knew that must go unspoken.

Maras, the only other truly like her that had existed: So utterly precious. Helen, the one who'd taken Maras' life: smashed into some unfeeling hellworld. Entropy, the place she'd lost everything.

And then once more.

Seiren, the little one: precious and important - too good, too pure, so much promise and happiness. Luca, who'd given her purpose: So determined, impending, rational an permanent. Valita, alike Luca, strong, spirited and so alive. Echelon, calm, forever, eternal alike to the myself: understanding. Tamamo, the earliest beginnings of those like us. Enzo: Sneaky, resourceful, first in line, last laugh. Zeta: Reserved, paced, planned: an excellent soldier. Red: Watched by the little one that watches me. Aiesu: Small, pitiful and guilty: a replication of a broken person whom she could't decide if she hated or not.

Resentment for not recalling the others.

How they must have thought in life. Would any of them remember her?

Rebeka found herself as always asking if she'd make it out alive, that she would live long enough to find home and be reunited with things she couldn't in a thousand lifetimes of her own duration explain to the others that walked, spoke, sung and dreamed.

And for the first time in hundreds of years, she didn't know the answer. How must that have felt for them, the walkers, speakers, singers and dreamers? Rebeka reached into herself. She'd been guided, templated and imprinted with the memories, thoughts and experiences of a Nepleslian woman by the name of Sana Nakamura who until a year ago had coloured her every experience as her guiding hand through this experience called life.

Rebeka found herself asking and was met with embrace and warmth.

"sSsshhh. It'll be okay. Its okay."
​

How did those who lived here react to this sort of thing?

Her mind thought of the Lorath she'd seen.

The Nepleslians who wore their faces like weapons.

Her ears began to droop, but for some reason she couldn't fathom, the beginnings of a smile hung at the edges of her pale burned lips.

Maybe it really was okay.​

And then, crushed.

After two hundred and fifty seven years, the last Sourcian had ended.

Pitch black blood oozed: formerly gellatine now thin and runny. Strange geometric patterns as electrical fields played across the magnetic gunk. Lights flickering: high voltage discharges raking the arid ground, igniting it further. The roar of those bizzare gellatine magnets roaring again, coughing and spluttering into an ear-splitting high-pitched ringing like grinding metal as it kept trying to move: liquid metal rinding like a mining drill: Like a blender to Rebeka beneath.

Again. And again. And again.

Finally, knowing its cause was lost, something rung out across the radio.

A bit-tune of simple tones. Those familiar would recognize it: Similar to the emergency SOS tones heard by some ships, but the melody was sufficiently different.

Then, some sort of siren: analogue, filling the ears of everyone around for miles.


Now, periodic ticks of the same bit-sound: a simple text transmission.

!!PROXIMITY DETONATION WARNING!!

NUCLEONIC DISINTEGRATION
TO FOLLOW VIA MASSIVE
MONOPOLE DISCHARGE

CATALYZED BARYONIC
DECAY IMMINENT


BEGINS IN... xx:xx

00:59...

00:58...​

 

[Phe0n1x]

As the countdown commenced, Makari abruptly changed his mind. "On second thought Zeta, full reverse! I'm not surre what nucleonic disintegration or monopole discharge or any of those other weird technical terms, but it doesn't sound positive for our health. Maybe I can destroy it completely before it does whatever mumbo jumbo it's going to do!" He immediately punched the fire button and commenced the reload. With a nearly immobile target, he didn't have to recalculate the target lock or wait for the computer to readjust much, if at all. He continued to reload and pound the dead thing's husk with as many rounds as possible. What better way to stop a a reaction that he can't comprehend by blowing it up? That works, right?

 

[Luca]

Kennewes, HELL
00:57. Shots flew through the air, one after the other in rapid succession, one fired every couple of seconds.
00:55. Was it wise to get close, though? The warning was abundantly clear -
00:53 - and more could be done with reach.
00:53. Nucleonic detonation, devastating in all regards.
00:50. Zeta had the choice to keep her distance as -
00:48 - Makari kept firing shots at Ourex's underbelly -
00:45 - each explosion splattering its white hot metal apart and exposing its core and innards,
00:41, and so close to the Sourcian's last known position.

00:39.

She went missing as he stared firing. The countdown - 00:36 - sounded on all radio devices as Allison was pumping - 00:33 - yet more output from the Norris at the Ourex. 00:30. The tank's main gun almost as red as its target was. 00:28. But still functioning because she'd given it the time to cool between shots. 00:25. She could've put more out - but she held back. 00:23. She had to show restraint. 00:21.

The monster was being pushed apart, further and further back with everything the team had left in them. 00:17. Sliced apart with a death of a thousand cuts and explosions in its melting state: The formerly impervious outer alloys bubbling, welting and evaporating into thick black smoke. 00:14. Spalled into smaller pieces and chunks - 00:11 - knocked around the battlefield with more explosions: something in its joints refusing to be knocked over: always righting itself. 00:08. With more force. 00:07. It was the only thing Ourex was capable of understanding - 00:05 - in its dying moments. The countdown signing off - 00:03 - with a cheery jingle.

"The Future is something to look forward to."

And the Phoenix stared back and disagreed as detonation unfolded before them.

!!00:00!!

♫ 2001: A Space Odyssey - Stargate + Sound of Evangelion - Infantile Dependence; Adult Dependence" ♫

The ground was pasted in liquid night ferro-fluid now gleaming like angel sigh: a brilliant white light inside the thing, illuminating through its housing like a candle through hot wax or a torch ripping through ripe old flesh - black shifting slowly into red as the light grew and grew: blinding in ways that couldn't be described - swallowing the light that struck it. Geiger counters screaming.

Twinkles of heat, lens-flares danced against vision as the night's sky turned: the stars above pitch black dots: shadows black, the world oranges, teals and purples - a burning white halo of light vibrating of those twinkles hung about the now melted wax figurine of the OUREX as it bubbled and broiled like a child's toy in a microwave into bizarre and strange almost artificial shapes - slowly sinking down as the ground beneath it too was lit like waxy flesh from the inside -- rock melting into lava as the beast was pulled into the planet.

Next, a shockwave: Air rushing - dust rising from the ground and then with a second flash, swept forth and aside as if the board forming the landscape had been cast to the ground.

And then the follow-up: a slow force that pushed the tanks like a gentle finger across moving board-pieces, the ice-like glassy floor cracking beneath: speeds to the eyes tremendous - perception becoming a strange fish-eye lens momentarily before snapping back: the world stationary though the epicentre now seen from a distance. But in their guts, there had been no sense of movement. No sense of velocity at all: still the entire time. It made no sense at all and merely had happened.

From orbit, an egg of light engulfed the figurine: pulsating as search-light like beams scored through the sky: igniting the atmosphere like slow motion lightning as they swept - moving so slowly that they were were like permanent fixtures - dendrites of geometric light flashing from the long arms - plasma unsure what to do with itself - on and off like a picture-book's flickering frames.

Yet for all this, the air was cold and slowly becoming cooler. Thinner. Breath visible as wintery condensation crept back in. Geiger counters quiet now.

The egg continued to sink into the planet: the gooey liquid force of molten metal rumbling as the ground cracked wide in pain, peeling in sheets as iron deposits formed tall maroon spires on silvery hexagonal columns that ripped through what little rubble remained - a forest of these things slowly ripping through the floor like hair follicles in time-lapse.

Silence. No rumbling. No crashing: Just an echo of sound that played back and forth bizarrely as the egg continued to grow: Its event horizon a clear white line against the gray purple floor of inverted shades: A moon beneath the floor with light so bright it made rock seem transparent. But if the light was truly inverted as it appeared. Wasn't that darkness?

The light seemed to invert its colours for a brief moment and bathed the battlefield in an eerie white. The hemispherical grave was dug for the beast, but it was now gone, nowhere to be seen - a simple circle like Swiss cheese reaching miles deep sinking deeper and still growing into a massive sphere. Upon the hill overlooking the chaos and the uncanny wreckage, Luca was finally allowing himself to rest with shattered eardrums, knowing in all that sound and fury, there was something significant undertaken by the tank crews. As he slipped into unconsciousness, he was wondering just how to repay everyone.

And how to punish someone cradled in a lead-lined box. Up above, Echelon was already counting the ways once she discovered that the railgun fire had finally stopped and the team had a confirmed visual, and started guiding the Crimson Kestrel back towards the landing zone. There was no sign of Rebeka, and her vitals feeds had gone out completely. Luca's vita feed appeared to be non-responsive too - but his last position was known.

"T4M4M0, G3T D0WN TH3R3, ST4RT TR14G3. 1'V3 L0ST S1GHT 0F R3B3K4 4ND LUC4 - TH3Y'R3 PR10R1TY." Echelon commanded Moonsong's pilot, a blip on the radar appearing not far from the Hoplite's position as the Crimson Kestrel was getting closer. "1'LL G3T TH3 M3CH4N1S3D UN1TS 0N B04RD. T4NK T34MS, D0 Y0U C0PY? F1ND S31R3N, R3B3K4, 4ND LUC4 S0 T4M4M0 H4S 4N 34S13R T1M3 TR14G1NG TH3M."

Seiren could see the Norris meandering towards them, steaming hot and rumbling slowly. Allison popped her head out of the hatch and waved to them from afar.

 

[Eistheid]

Kennewes, Hell

Glad that she hadn't allowed herself to become engrossed in her efforts to disable the heavy frame's main gun, Tamamo noted with a bit of wry amusement that she seemed to have drawn the ire of the unit, as a spray of anti-starship point defence sent her way forced her to evade. The evasion allowed some introspection, as it was clear that were Moonsong less nimble than she was, Tamamo might have needed to be worried that the twin L-Mark-Twos would catch her and erase her fragile craft in a blossom of annihilation. Fortunately for her it turned out that it was simple to bait and lead the twin weapons mounts, the only worrying even was when one of the weapons jammed and exploded causing the other to jerk wildly scattering ordinance across the sky. Recovering from a brief moment of panic as she nearly caught one of the erratic shots, Tamamo reasserted her will and resumed her careful evasion content to simply bait the weapon, waiting for an opening.

That opening never came.

The main gun began to fire again, a display of fury that might have been mocking her efforts to disable its joint. It seemed however that the tank crew's assault on the heat management systems had worked, the entire weapon visibly heating with each frantic shot until it failed spectacularly, cutting off the remaining L-Mark-Two's fury as the enemy functionally self destructed. It seemed she'd taken too long and the boss had self terminated. A waste of points.

As the behemoth fell Tamamo watched closely through Moonsong's sensors, wondering if it had yet another trick to pull. Instead of a new breath of life or some new weapons system, it turned out that its only trick seemed to be the result of Rebeka's IFF going dark as the heavy frame fell, hardly a comforting sight. Continuing her careful watch Tamamo continued circling carefully nearly a kilometer out from her foe waiting patiently to see how events would turn out. Her patience was rewarded not with comforting stillness, but the declaration of a detonation. This was immediately followed by a horribly obnoxious countdown that screamed itself across the forest, in her opinion like some sort of squalling child desperate for attention. As the short minute ticked down forcing the Neko to evaluate her options, Tamamo realized there was little she could do besides clear the area. Without any meaningful option to support those on the ground she adjusted her vector breaking out of her circling watch, cruising out over the tops of the forest below adding several kilometers between herself and the squalling of the fallen frame.

---

Kennewes, Near a pair of holes in the forest floor

The distant sounds of explosions, the irritating countdown, an unexpected jingle, and finally a blossom of radiation and spatial effects that lit the horizon. As she observed the fallout carefully she was both troubled and relieved when the reaction died down. Counting silently in the aftermath, not wanting to fly back only to be damaged by a secondary detonation or dangerous after effect, Tamamo instead was broken from her caution when she received a message from Echelon. The mesage was one that she wasn't about to ignore the need for action clear enough, as such her reply was a simple, "Acknowledged." Once again Tamamo was roaring across the Kennewesian sky cutting the distance between herself and the battlefield she had left behind, though this time she felt little of the thrill of flight.

Coming to a stop near the ruined facility, Tamamo noted that the tanks were still in one piece though both of their frame units were in varying states of ruin upon the battlefield. Allison was visible from the hatch of the Norris, though the Havok remained sealed. With Moonsong hovering twenty meters above the ground Tamamo allowed her AI to take over the control as she disconnected her SPINE putting herself in the darkness of the small coffin-like cockpit. A moment later, natural light flooded into the cockpit as Moonsong's AI freed her, a moment was spent digging out a medical kit from under the reclined seat along with a borrowed SmAR/Fatboy that had been carefully packed into the small storage space. Settling her left hand on the grip of the weapon, Tamamo threw the strap of the medical kit over her shoulder and hopped over the edge of the cockpit falling a few feet before her innate gravity control took hold and sent her rocketing toward the hill where Luca had been laying according to her last sighting of him.

Uncomfortably, it took a little bit of searching among the infamous Kennewes flora that had already started to reclaim the locale. Everywhere small shoots of fresh green growth were visible, swaying slightly in the cool wind as the atmosphere attempted to re-balance itself. Settling lightly on the ground like some sort of angel or a Valkyrie come for a fallen hero, Tamamo soon broke the illusion of grace as she heaved a sigh of relief as she noted that the Captain, and more specifically the Minkan body was still breathing. As she set down the kit quickly working the zipper to get it open, Tamamo sent a short message indicating that Luca had been found alive but noted that the medical facilities on the Kestrel should be prepared. Already unpacking the medical supplies Tamamo set to work, putting into use what little she had on hand to hopefully keep him alive long enough to get him somewhere that at the very least wouldn't have plants trying to grow on him. This largely consisted of limiting the bleeding.

After a few minutes of work riding the line between speed and gentle care Tamamo pinged the Phoenix crew, and relayed a message from her encircling Moonsong to the Crimson Kestrel informing the others that for the moment Luca was stable. She made note not to mention that stable was rather relative. After triple checking the state of Luca Pavone's wounded form, ensuring that she had done all she could with the resources on hand for a Minkan, Tamamo left Luca's prone form a couple of minutes later with a much lighter medical kit, over half of her supplies having gone into making sure that he wouldn't bleed out while waiting for the Kestrel to reach planetside. As she darted out, skimming above the still growing greenery toward the last known location of their other 'dark' crew member Tamamo wondered what she'd find of the old warrior, or if she'd be able to do anything at all.

A zig-zagging search pattern across the path of the heavy frame and the still dry riverbed, which like everywhere else was already playing home to the horrifyingly persistent flora allowed the discovery of the fallen and broken frame that Rebeka had been piloting. It was splattered with solidified droplets of foreign metal what Tamamo could only assume were bits of the heavy frame that had been fought, and it was in many more pieces than she would have liked. Even more unsettling was the discovery that the unit had been partially welded shut, while in other places breaks in the armor did little to hide the suggestion that the occupant was enjoying their idle state. Even if she had know what to do with someone of Rebeka's anatomy, she wouldn't have been able to access the damaged form within.

Knowing that until the Kestrel arrived she'd have to keep busy, she settled on picking around the shattered form of Rebeka's frame to learn. During this academic foray into the unknown Tamamo quickly discovered things she didn't recognize, perhaps blood? Perhaps molten flesh? She didn't know. In the face of being helpless to do anything more productive Tamamo spent a few moments carefully collecting some of the fresher looking, wet bits that were scattered near the core of the fallen frame, while noting the oozing breaks in its chassis that likely supplied her samples. Perhaps they'd help with figuring out how to return Rebeka to action, or maybe they'd be put toward some sort of successor. At the moment Tamamo didn't know which was more likely.

Folding her ears back Tamamo turned her head skyward and scanned for any sign of the Crimson Kestrel's descent, before a secondary thought occurred to her and her observations turned earthward. Flaring out her ears, Tamamo listened carefully, while keeping watch around herself, a slow meticulous scan. Perhaps it was best if she returned to her Moonsong, she didn't want to get in the way of the rest of the crew reuniting with fallen friends.

 

[ShotJon]

Havoc tank sat in the mud. The engine was not running and part of it seemed in a bad shape. Before the explosion as soon as Makari emptied the magazine, Zeta turned the machine around and started moving from the giant mech. It was not enough though. The insane explosion took the machine out, the shields were done for and armour was partially molten at parts. Machinegun on top of the turret was gone and tracks needed repair, before they could even try to move. The hatches fused with rest of the tank.

The machine remained still for a bit. All that could be heard were metallic thumps at the front of the tank. Bang after bang it was getting louder as the front hatch started bulging out, until it finally gave away and flew up and into the distance of few meters. Through the hole a metallic arm was visible, its fingers clenched into fist. The hand grabbed on the edge and soon Zeta pulled herself up on the tank.

"Shit," the woman said and lit the cigarette. She took out her communicator and looked at it. "Makari use this harch, this thing is not going anywhere at the moment, I got to go check on Luca."

The blonde woman jumped off the tank and started sprinting towards the hill. That was Luca's latest position. The ground was largely burnt and hard so it did not gave away under the woman's boots. Zeta saw the destruction, but she did not care much about destroyed robot. She cared about her lover who was outside when it all happened. As usual he had to put himself into harms way and it was getting harder and harder for Zeta to take care of the harm.

The nepleslian made her way up on the hill, waving at Tamamo, who moved in the other direction. Zeta realised that the neko was probably going to go check on Rebecca. Hopefully the sourcian would be okay.

Reaching the top of the hill. There she saw Luca's unconscious body covered in bandages. Zeta ran to him and dropped down on her knees next to him. The man was breathing, Tamamo clearly saved his life. Zeta will have to thank the woman later.

"Luca you crazy bastard," Zeta moved closer and carefuly put the man's head on her lap. Few tears going down her face. "If you gonna die, I am gonna kill you. I can do it too since you are have this fancy body and all. So you better wake up you bastard."

 

[Moogle]

While everybody else got the luxury of not having to be highly irradiated anymore, Seiren was still right next to the epicenter of where the Ourex and all their weaponry first blew through - and he was beginning to feel its effects, sickness beginning to course through his system (or maybe that was the adrenaline high crashing down). In any case, Seiren looked off the edge and hopped off, flipping around and using his grav-glove to pulse his way down like falling in a stop-motion film.

His descent was jerky and stressed his arm something awful, but he landed easily enough, HIPR still slung over his shoulder. Seiren made every effort to get to the tank as fast as possible, but his legs felt like lead.

 

[Phe0n1x]

"Rodget that, Zeta" Makari replied to the thin air in Zeta's wake. He carefully scaled the ladder and avoided anything that looked too hot or steamed at he exited the tank. Zeta was right, this tank was toast. It might be good for scraps, but other than that this tank was dead in the water as far as his expertise was concerned.

Now, Seiren could probably whip something totally awesome out of it. But that was another story. he dusted himself off and strode in the direction Zeta took off on, gun casually at the ready. He was moderately worried about Luca as well, but he would give Zeta and (the hopefully alive) Luca some privacy while also keeping an eye out for anything overtly suspicious.

He radioed to the team, "Havoc is out of commission, Zeta and I are ok. Everyone else made it out of that wicked science-y event in one piece?"

 

[Luca]

Kennewes, a scorched earth
The Norris rolled up, with Allison leaning out of the hatch with her hand extended. "Here, here!" Allison said, leaning a little further out, with her pilot's arms wrapped around her waist. She pulled him up onto the turret and over the cargo net, HIPR slipping from the kid's shoulder and landing in the calcified net. "Seiren, kid," Allison put her hands on his shoulders, looking out to where the evaporated riverbed. She bit her lips, only unable to cry because her eyes were so dry. "What happened to her ... ?"

She saw the blue neko darting over the hill and leaving a bandaged figure on their back, staring into the shimmering night sky and the face of an angel, heat haze making Zeta's golden locks dance in his vision. He couldn't even raise an arm to play with them, much less hold her. All he could offer was the sound of crunching soil beneath his right hand, breaking the silty grass apart with the barrel of his gun.

Zeta peered down at his face, his eyes were as red as the hellwood grips - all the vessels shattered apart, the nose and forehead gashed through the helmet, a metal shard jutting out close to his right temple. His left arm limp by his side, dead weight kept together with a bandage, a hope, and nerves and will of stainless steel.

Down the hill, the nekovalkyrja rubbed a colour out of space between the tines of prongs, swabs, and syringes into phials and containers studiously, knowing that no more could be done for its progenator. The cat's intentions were inscruitable as she approached that ray of moonlight she piloted, bringing lunar judgement from a sarcophagus.

A familiar bolt of red was shimmering into view above, ascending gently, pointing spotlights at the vehicles, at the points of interest - the largest of them pointed at the crater which the Kennewes vegetation was loath to try and reclaim - too hot, dry, sterile, lifeless; too dead. There was no trace of the beast. All that would be left of it wouldn't fit in a mouse's thimble.

"GUYS, M4K3 W4Y. 1'LL G3T S0M3 DR0N3S T0 P1CK UP WH4T 1 C4N." A loudspeaker blared Echelon's voice as the Crimson Kestrel's hangar was beginning to slide open and come to rest parallel to the spaceship, pivoting at the halfway mark to line up with the body of the ship. Landing struts came out of the body of the vehicle, crashing against the ground as powerful lights from the hangar blasted over Luca and Zeta. Standing there in the corner of the hangar was a teenage daughter, coming to grips with the fact that her dad may never learn peace because the screaming in his ears and wakeless nights disrupt the message.

She knew he'd come back. Her gaze travelled across the battlefield at the vehicles. Hulks of war that couldn't be fixed with a 3D printer, a weekend and all the duct tape in the world. The easy part would be fixing the tanks, give them to any mechanic and within six months and sixty slabs of beer apiece.

♫ Heart Beating Sound Effect ♫

Fixing the crew might take a lot longer. No mechanic knew the gearbox of the mind. Even the experts were recording random stimulus and quantifying it into patterns, syndromes, illnesses, behaviours, willpower. Determination. Here it was difficult to come by - even the brightest source a smoulder now, reddening irons to brand a rabbit. At least now, Zeta could carry him to a litter and get her lover some better care.

Allison drove past Makari, the tank stopping as she was cradling Seiren to make sure he didn't fall off the tank, and didn't lose a grip on himself. "Need a lift?" Allison's voice sounded broken, a croak in her throat and her levity bereft as she looked at the cowboy.

"T4M4MO, Y0U M1GHT T0 D0 S0M3 T0W1NG T0 M0V3 0UR G34R." Echelon warned the pilot. "TH4T H4V0C'S G01NG N0WH3R3, 4ND TH3 N0RR1S W0N'T B3 4BL3 T0 PULL."

Allison cleared her throat before answering the radio. "How's - how's the Kestrel?"

A moment's thought as Echelon ran diagnostics. "B1T D3G4USS3D. S0M3 3L3CTR0N1CS FR13D BY H34T. HULL H4S SCR4TCH3S 4ND SCR4P3S." She shook her head from the pilot's cradle. "G0NN4 N33D S0M3 F1X1NGS 1N TR4NS1T."

The redhead in front of Makari looked worried again, extending a sunburnt arm and beckoning him on.

 

[Eistheid]

Kennewes, a scorched earth

Darting away from the cluster of vehicles, away from Rebeka's laying form, Tamamo with a bit of gravity manipulation leaped nearly twenty meters into the air catching hold of the edge of Moonsong's open cockpit, and smoothly settled onto the seat in a crouch. Carefully stowing her medical pack and its precious contents, followed by the safely disabled and powered down smAR Fatboy the small Neko settled into the seat and connected with the SPINE interface signalling for the hard canopy to seal and once again plunged her into darkness.

Instead of remaining in the air, Moonsong's form shifted, the shape transitioning through the intermediary state until a large humanoid machine hovered above the ground, engines glassing yet another patch of Kennewesian earth as it touched down. Testing out the limbs for motion ensuring that she could achieve the level of dexterity she sought, Tamamo started off across the parched ground, once again pausing near the fallen form of Rebeka's frame. Here she took the time to gather the shattered parts, leaving only small shards behind as she cradled the sarcophagus in Moonsong's arms, the interaction between the two machines finally scratching Moonsong's hull. It seemed the encounter would leave a mark after all.

Careful strides brought her cargo to the waiting bay of the Crimson Kestrel, where she carefully set the shattered remains. Perhaps with the full resources of the ship something could be done, where her own hands had failed. After a moments pause Tamamo left Rebeka laying on the metal floor of the Crimson Kestrel's hangar, turning her attention to the ruined Havoc, and her second labor.

The LEAF belonging to Seiren was almost a reflection of the state that Rebeka had been left in, burnt out, massively damaged. Tamamo projected that Seiren's mental state would make his LEAF look well off once things calmed down and everyone had a chance to share what had happened. For the moment though, things were relatively peaceful, and Tamamo could carry Seiren's LEAF to the Crimson Kestrel's awaiting bay as well.

One vehicle left to recover.

Pausing near the tank Tamamo waited, content to loom as a matte grey-white giant surveying the battlefield, while the crew sorted themselves out. She didn't mind being the last onto the ship, after all she was the only one who could move the Havoc in its condition, she was also the only one who could be considered 'fresh' after that encounter. The others would need their rest.

She would keep working.