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RP: ISC Phoenix [Mission 7] - Siege on Sector 72

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...And...

Just like that, Naoko was gone from Luca's shoulder.

A few seconds later, one of the zombies felt a little bit of an impact through its armor, as if it had been struck by one of the bullets. All unknowing, it jogged on, arms reaching. But then it felt another impact, and another, and another. It looked down, confused.

And Naoko, teeth bared, punched a hole through its already damaged neckpeice.

Shattering it hurt her hand and sent needle-like slivers of super-microbial metalweave through her skin to bite into her nerves and muscles, but she had already stopped listening to the bit of her mind that governed pain. Throwing her elbow into the mess, rending the shattered fragments away, she began to tear into the zombie's throat.

The zombie threw up its hands, stumbling in its shambling run, and began to flail at its neck. Turning and lashing out, Naoko severed the meaty fingers trying to clutch her with a single swipe from her small knife-hand. Then she rounded on the creature with the hate-filled grimace of a demon, cocked her fist, and smashed directly through the creature's spinal cord head-on. The zombie fell with a thud, red life spewing out of the ruptured neckpeice as the head lolled at an angle.

The next one fared no better; the initial impact of the furious, gravity-manipulating projectile shattered its kneecap and sent it toppling down to the floor. Shortly thereafter, Naoko shoved a shard of its own facepeice through its eye, yanked it around, and the zombie stopped twitching.

The bloody Naoko stood again, cocking her legs beneath her as she prepared to jump for her next victim. Then she saw it; the zombie that wasn't shambling along at a jog, but instead, moving with a purpose. The zombie with the breastplate, that was actually a breastplate.

It was the Nekovalkyrja.
 
Seiren, to say the least, was a tad bit annoyed. Normal NMX, goo ladies, mercenaries, and shop owners of suspicious origin he could handle. It was when zombies finally were introduced into the mix that it crossed the line into "wtf-land". Of course, his response to this was to lay as many rounds into the crowd in front of him with his Mancannon.
 
Robert grunted as he dropped into a crouch to avoid a swing from an infectee. He lashed back out with a blow from his Fatboy throwing all his weight behind it to knock the infectee back while he brought the Fatboy back to center on it. He fired two shots into it's skull before simply shoving past it in order to jump into the rear of the jeep. He shot another infectee that was climbing in on the other side. "Arin, are you ok?" he asked as he switched out batteries and stood up firing in to crowding infectees.
 
Naoko was noticing something as she wrought herself a bloody path through the zombies. She was not only liking every hit, but she noticed something when she latched onto the Nekovalkyrja's breastplate.
There wasn't just flesh and blood under there, but a sustenance that'd make her grow, and it was out of reach.

"I thought they phased you out," The Nekovalkyrja shook her head and tuted as she peeled Naoko from her breastplate and held her out wide, keeping a thumb over her shard-wielding hand, "Is this what the great Luca Pavone sends to fight us?" She inquired.

-

Enzo's dual-wielding feat of derring-do, whilst sacrificing accuracy, was excellent for getting the lead and energy into the air. Most of his shots were aiming for the torso and head, and a scores worth of zombies couldn't stand the magnitude of the amount of lead in the air. That is, until Enzo had to reload.

-

The captain was half watching Naoko's reign of terror whilst pumping shotgun pellets into the immediate crowd to cover Zeta, getting a better look at the Nekovalkyrja that'd stopped her by stepping on the bonnet of the GP-ORV. He rolled his eyes and sighed as he realised who was holding onto her.

"Small world, isn't it?" Luca asked himself as he threw his shotgun to his spare hand, drew his HHG loaded with RED and fired it wildly into the back of the crowd of zombies, setting off explosions from the high vantage.

-

Arin's hot potatoes sailed through the crowd. Her first one bumped into a Zombie's head, and it fell to the floor, letting it get kicked and shoved around the crowd before going up in a blast. She found that the further she threw the bombs, the more of a fuss they caused.

Zeta and Robert were having a bitch of a time hauling the rifle around, and their swift move to remember getting Arin was a good one, with Robert cutting his way through the mess with his hip-fired Fatboy. He was able to haul Arin along, occasionally having to put the boot in to get his way.

Zeta, brave enough to shoulder the load of the Gauss Rifle, and letting the heat of battle cloud her pain, fired the rifle - thrice.
Each shot letting a massive report ring out, and cutting a swathe through the zombies. She was very fortunate that she wasn't firing in Rosh's direction. Her third shot from the rifle, however, struck the mortar, disabling it for good with a bang.

Ferris' cunning little idea and modification worked comically well, with Rosh cruising along and taking out the legs of the zombies, some of them fell on the bike and attempted to hang onto, but he kept it together by booting their hands away or letting a sharp turn do the work.

"Rosh, I'm going to make sure you get a cut of our pay," He said as he fired his last two RED rounds into the Zombies, "JUST for that! That's friggin' hilarious!" He pointed to the bloodied blades on the motorcycle.

Meanwhile, Vincent was keeping his end of the area clear, watching the team's flank by cutting down whatever decided to get too close with his Deviance. He roared in delight as he watched the blood fly.
Seiren was near Vincent, watching his flanks. The power behind each shot from the Mancannon shook him, but it messed up whatever was in front of it worse.
"Thanks!" Vincent called out over the din of the combat.

-

The Nekovalkyrja begun to apply a crushing pressure on Naoko, whilst giving her, and anyone within hearing distance around her a firm lecture, "You know that a tide of death like us, though coming and going in the ocean of history is eternal..."

Luca shook the spent bullet casings out of his HHG, giving a zombie that came too close the boot before loading a special moon-clip of ammo into it and snapping it shut with a click.

"...so know this, we are forever, we are eternal, we will scour the stars of your presence and take what is ours," The Nekovalkyrja was referring to the NMX in a grandiose and prideful fashion, "And we will never -"

Luca levelled his HHG to the head of the Nekovalkyrja, who was only about ten metres away, and pulled the trigger with an awesome report.
The Nekovalkyrja sidestepped the bullet, letting the BLACK HHG round cut through an NMX Zombie with ease.
However, she lost her focus on keeping Naoko in a tight grip, allowing for a moment of opportunity for the NH-12 to escape, or worse.

"We meet again!" She called out as she sent out a mental command for all of her zombies to swarm on Luca, specifically, "I'll swallow your soul!"
"Hey, she-bitch," Luca replied in kind, "Come get some!"

By now, the herd had thinned to about fifty Zombies, all intent on cutting Luca down to size.

The captain, however, had eschewed his Shotgun and HHG in favour of his fists, elbows and boots - with his strength-assistance augmenting his skill in hand-to-hand combat. Occasionally, one would attempt to grapple with him instead of clawing, but it would be booted and thrown around him to make some distance - and the distance between him and them was getting smaller and smaller.

However, he couldn't face the swarm alone, and he started making mistakes that lead to scratches and bruises on the armour.
"You ain't gonna take me alive!" Luca roared over the zombies with an expression of battle rage on his bloodied face, punching through one and using the same arm to elbow another, before rolling his other elbow into another to his right side.

-

Meanwhile, a figure watched from across the Square, occasionally sending single shots into the crowd with carefully aimed WHITE HHG Bullets.
"He and his crew have done everything right," She said to herself as she snapped the hammer back for another shot, "More than we could've hoped for," A wry smile came across her features.

That's when she noticed another figure from across the square, engaged in a similar activity, but using a Fingale's Revenge rifle.
"A freespacer," She wondered aloud, before suddenly cloaking with invisibility and disappearing from view.
 
The berserking Naoko struggled against the larger NH's grip for a few seconds before her secondary mind gripped hold of her primary, and cleared the red battle haze from her vision. Her mind sharpened as the impartial sections roared to life and began to dominate and subjugate the irrational ones. About to die, Naoko was thinking clearly.

She knew immediately there was something wrong with this situation. The bit that was wrong, of course, was that Naoko was still alive, and the Nekovalkyrja holding her was underestimating her in a rather fatal way. Although the NMX had managed to dominate a Nekovalkyrja's body, it was clear that their thinking was still inferior.

Only idiots held onto an angry NH.

Luca's distraction was put to full effect when Naoko's bloody right arm, almost completely destroyed by her earlier zombie-slaying escapades, suddenly sliced through the hand and fingers holding it. The blood had crystalized, and it was sharp.

Slick with blood, the external hemosynth ports that the blade had come from were livid, pulsing with her small heartbeat. Her own bright red hemosynth merged with the darker gloop that Naoko had sliced off from the other Nekovalkyrja. It drew it in. The blade glittered with it.

She jerked her other arm out of the new-age Neko's loosened grip. In the back of her mind, Naoko knew what she had to do, and exactly why. This enemy was hers. It had what she needed. Naoko wanted blood. Naoko needed blood.

In a leap, the small death-dealer covered the distance between hand and head.

"Saiyonara!"

And the blade fell.
 
Enzo dropped his emptied Knucklers in a fit of desperation and drew his ODM, defending himself from... empty ground. All of the zombies in the immediate area were now pursuing Luca, ignoring him. He took the brief pause in combat to light a cigarette.

The greasy conman watched pensively as the zombies hoarded upon Luca, their claws grasping this way and that. After a contemplative moment where he quickly calculated the figures for the approximate value of Luca's belongings and their relation to the estimated amount of money he would receive as a reward for his bravery, enzo made the prudent investment.

He kicked Rosh in the face and threw him off of the bike, commandeering it for himself. Rosh's helmet trundled off into the air and bounced several times on the ground nearby. Enzo smiled and waved as he sped off on the newly acquired bike, leaving Rosh to nurse his wounds as he fired blindly after Enzo with his NSP.

"Not again, you damnable cur, not again!" Rosh screamed in unfettered fury.


Enzo gunned the bike's accelerator and blasted into the hoard of zombies, pushing them apart like the Red Sea on a Saturday night. As he reached the center of the hoard, he stuck his arm out for Luca to grab him by his lapel. Enzo struggled under the weight of Luca and the WIND suit combined, but he managed to get the captain onto the bike. After that, it was all on a wing and a prayer rather the plan would work or not.

That plan being to gun the accelerator and try to pierce an exit through the mass of zombie. Enzo lifted his ODM and fired wildly into the air as he yanked back the accelerator handle. He screamed at the top of his lungs and swung the pistol around, firing into the crowd.
 
Things seems to be going well for her, Robert was coming to pick her up, the zombies were running off elsewhere and Enzo was about to speed past on a bike. Time to get rid of the load she had been carrying.

"Enzo!" Arin shouted as she flung the modified Sniper Rifle towards the con-artist, her arms were quite worked up enough from the Potato tossing to be able to throw the weapon far enough and accurately for him to grab it in mid-air.
 
Robert kicked a zombie off the jeep as it tried to crawl over in pursuit of Luca. "No! That's our boss and you can't have him you slimey zombified freaks" he started laying rounds downrange into the zombie horde. "Anywhere you wanna get to Arin? No rush or anything, just kinda wondering."he asked over his shoulder.
 
"Bloody hell!" Zeta shouted. Her right shoulder hurt from recoil, but her body was so high on adrenaline that she didn't have to pay attention to it. She put the gauss gun down, looking on a hole in the mortar for a second. Well, at least NMX won't use that again.

She then looked back to see how the others are doing. Her programming kicked in almost immediately. She saw Luca swarmed by zombies.
Zeta's usual mindset was gone, and her inner bodyguard came online. If anyone could see her face, it would seem bland and emotionless. She had only one goal. Save her captain, not matter the cost to herself.

She swung the Fatboy on her back to her hands and started running towards the horde. As she ran she held the trigger. The energy weapon had almost no recoil and rays of death flew against the zombies.
As Zeta got closer, she let Fatboy go and drew out her knife. She held it in a reverse-grip and ran into horde of zombies, shoulder bashing into them like a rhinoceros. She and the zombies fell in a living domino effect.

She immediately rose to her knees and started slashing with her knife and punching. SHe couldn't miss since they were everywhere. She saw Enzo coming to get captain out. That was good. "Get captain out of here Enzo! I will keep them busy!" She shouted and slashed off a hand of a zombie with laser sharpened durandium blade. She used the knifes knuckles too.

She didn't pay attention to any injuries zombies could do to her. They were not important, only important thing was Luca Pavone. He was someone needed in this universe and she will gladly die for him. He must survive.
If Zeta could think clearly she would be curious how she got so serious about guarding Luca but right now it was pure instinct. Luca was someone she just had to protect at any cost, possible or impossible.
 
The combined weight of the zombies were starting to overpower the captain, whose cockiness and anger had gotten him into this bad situation.
He was screaming a litany of curses as he continued fighting against the crowd, with less and less success.

He growled, but a flicker of hope came in as his crew came to rescue his arse. First came Enzo, chopping his way through the horde by means of a purloined Motorcycle with a chopping blade attached to it. Robert's shots were able to provide covering fire at the expense of having what sounded like angry bees made of energy fly overhead and hit the crowd.

As for Arin, her throwing arm had been accustomed to the hot potato hurling, and the rifle flew, stock-first towards Enzo. Hopefully it'd be caught by the handle by the conman.

Hot on Enzo's heels was Zeta, with a path cleared by the Conman, she could power through whatever was still standing. She took a few strikes and bruises, in the process, but hers, Robert's and Enzo's combined efforts staved off the horde.
Luca had managed to recapture his senses as he clutched onto the bike. He shook his head, and saw Naoko and Saeko.
He had the urge to finish the fight.

"Enzo, that way, now, go past 'em!" He commanded as he stood up on the bike and cracked his knuckles. It took him a moment to realise that the plates of his armour had been torn away as he felt the wind on his chest. His helmet had also become useless, with the visor broken.

The broken components peeled off in the wind, but the left arm was still intact, and the strength assistance was there - and that was all he needed.

-

As for the Neko holding onto Naoko, she had a very good idea, and she employed it quickly. Hurl her as far as she could. However, she could only do this after her throat had been torn out and some of her vertebrae sliced. Naoko had the opportunity to slice her open before being hurled towards the GP-ORV with a crunch.

She clutched the area, falling to her knees for a moment, then standing back up, the wound mostly healed. That's when she noticed something else coming in her direction, fast.
"Oh, damn," Was all she was able to mutter as Luca came flying towards her, "Not again."

A fist with the power of momentum smashed into her face, furthering the beheading process and knocking it loose from the neck, but still attached by inches. Luca landed on top of her, holding her down before finishing the job by tearing her head off and hurling it away.

The zombies left then seemed to stop, just standing as though they were flashbang victims. It appeared as though having their leader destroyed gave them a mental blank. They just stood, some fell over, not knowing what to do. There were about twenty or fifteen left.

-

Luca realised that the battle had ended for him. He stood up, looked about himself, and vocally confirmed, "I think we're done here..." He fell to his backside, clutching his face in both hands.
Bodies from both sides were everywhere, damage had been done, and many innocent people died in the leadup. It was an overwhelming rush of variables to consider, and lives, along with the lives affected by destruction, which was finally given a moment's respite in a universe at war.

Although it was a moment of peace that might not be remembered, it would be cherished anyway. It was that thought alone that made Luca put his head up and smile lightly.
"Victory is ours, guys," He announced quietly.

John was watching from above, inspecting the damage when his sensors got a closer look at Luca. He tutted.
"Uh oh, this ain't good. He's sitting down while there's still work to be done," He said as he slowly landed the shuttle about twenty metres away from Luca's location, "Uriel, how about you and I clean up what's left, maybe treat the Captain to some medicines, steak and alcohol therapy, hm?"

-

Galar, meanwhile had finally repulsed what was left of the possessed mercenaries ships with the numerous guns on Drift's exterior.
"Phew, I knew there was a reason I bought all those cannons..." Galar sighed lightly with relief. Then he noticed a lull in the fighting indoors.

"Sir, you might want to see this," An assistant asked the governor as he directed his attention to what was left of Sector 72, "They've won."
Galar blinked for a moment, then contemplated the nature of their reward, "Dear me. How many luxurious hotels are left?" He asked his assistant.
 
With his job done, Enzo pulled the bike around to an angry and bleeding Rosh, who still had his NSP leveled at Enzo. Enzo smiled and stepped off the bike, gesturing with both hands towards the machine. It was trailing a thick column of smoke and there were several new dents on and around the feusalage. Rosh spat blood into Enzo's face as he mounted his damaged toy. Ferris pulled up beside him with a new helmet prepared. Kroger and Shinai were approaching from the distance with a sidecar mounted on Shinai's bike, Kroger seated comfortably in it behind a fifty caliber machinegun.

Enzo maintained his shit-eating grin.

"You have caused nothing but trouble in your wake with every step you've taken, Vincienzo." Rosh began his dramatic solliloquy, "I will not so easily give up on the debt you owe me. I have been waiting over a year to extract it, and I shall wait longer still. You won't always have the protection of Luca Pavone. And when you finally betray him as you inevitably will, I shall be present and most forceful in my-"

Rosh was cut off when he and his bike were blown into miniscule pieces by a massive blast. Yards away from the smoking crater that was formerly Rosh; Enzo lie on his back, holding the smoking hand-rifle Arin had tossed to him moments ago, its BLACK round spent. The vagabond groaned and sat upright, staring down at the weapon which had just knocked him onto his back. He looked back at Arin quizzically, as if to ask 'Was that supposed to happen?'.

Kroger and Ferris stood in awe, their mouths agape behind their helmets. Shinai, however; stepped forward calmly.

"I guess that leaves me in charge." he said, turning to Luca, "Pavone, if you would, when you transfer our payment, arrange to have Rosh's share added to the militia funding instead of our group. He was planning a donation this year. And, if you're ever in need of our assistance again, feel free to call. We have an FTL capable dropship, and we're always looking for work." He handed Luca a card and turned back to his bike, signaling the others to follow suit. And like that, they were gone.

Enzo still sat on the ground nearby holding the new rifle. He looked utterly confused. "I was just gonna pops him one in the leg to shuts him up an' he explodes's on me..." he muttered, "An' thens thats guy talkins about somethin' or other debts I owes him."

Enzo turned to Luca with a sideways look of perplexion, "Who were those guys, again? An' why dids that guy blows up? An' how was I supposeds to knows them?"
 
Naoko bounced off the windshield violently, leaving a little spiderwebbed crack in her wake where she had struck.

Her off hand was slick, so finding a grip on the bare metal on the cab was difficult to say the least, but she was lucky enough to catch hold of a bullet hole before going over the side. She stopped sliding with a jerk that jarred her throughly. When the world around her calmed down a bit, she managed to lift her head to examine the battlefield. It was all done and over with.

Corpses everywhere. Well, that was pretty familiar.

In a wash, everything that she had been instinctively ignoring flooded back. Her joints and muscles hurt where they had torn or bruised, and her arm was screaming desperately for attention. When she went to stand, it seemed as if she were made of lead, and her body did not want to respond. Letting go of the bullethole and falling into a puddle of bloody slush, Naoko forced her legs to work properly, landing on her feet in spite of the sudden and violent strain she had just endured.

She crouched there for a few moments, just sucking in air. Then, she began to pick her way through the carnage towards Luca, Enzo, and the fallen Nekovalkyrja. She glanced over to the corpse. The hemosynthetic material was still calling to her, oddly. She would have to make the transfer soon if she wanted to use it. But somewhere in the body was a parasite, probably still alive, and it was giving her pause. Soon it would die from seperation, so she just passed it by.

Once she was within a few paces of Luca and Enzo, she found a helmet that wasn't destroyed or bloody and sat on it.

Then Naoko said, loud enough to be heard, "You people are crazy, yo."
 
Enzo looked over to the tiny Neko sitting near him and leaned in towards her. "Well, it's a living, " he bgan, but then caught himself and narrowed his eyes at her, "Say, weren't you that little nakeds lady back on the ship? How'd yous gets all the ways out here, and how did yous tear up that big Neko so good?"
 
Naoko craned her neck, looking up. Technically speaking, she was still more or less naked except for what was left of the rough little shift she'd cut out of a rag, but did not feel like mentioning this.

"I decided to fall asleep in one of your ammo cans, I woke up here," she explained, entwining the fingers of her off hand in her hair and trying to straighten the matted mess out. The blood was drying. It was going to be difficult, and that was frustrating.

"And I dislike being patronized," she added, "so do not narrow your eyes at me that way, please."
 
Enzo chuckled at the comment. "I was just narrowing them so yous wouldn't fall into my eye socket if yous tripsed." While he was speaking, Enzo idly plucked the filter off of his next cigarette and handed to Naoko as a rag for her hair.

He made a satisfying sound as he lit and dragged on the unfiltered cigarette, acquiring a stronger sensation from the burning tobacco.
 
Naoko accepted the cigarette filter in the sense that she did not reject it, but did not make much of a move to accept it, either. In the end, she stopped messing with her hair to take hold of it. Then, she frowned.

"This, too, is a form of patronization. Give me something I can actually use, preferrably something that does not smell like smoke."
 
Enzo frowned at her. "Everything else woulds be like a circus tent to yous... I know!" he shuffled through his pockets for a moment before removing one of the watches he had bought on Nepleslia Prime for his scamming.

It was delicately wrapped in a thin paper and a silk bow was tied around it. Hanging from the bow was a tiny charm of cheaply made plastic. It was shaped like a dead tree, spindly branches arcing out from its center. It represented some kind of Lorath watchmaker's mark which Enzo had been trying to emulate. "You coulds use it like a comb and the paper likes a towel. And it's pretty, and it's real, so I aint's patronizing yous no more, see?"
 
This time, Naoko accepted the scrap of thin paper, the bow, and the charm with both hands - mostly because she needed both hands to keep a good hold on all of it, but at least partially from politeness. She felt the thin paper speculatively, setting the bow and charm aside after a cursory inspection.

That was a little more like it.

"Thank you," she said.

Then, she leaned forward, pulled most of her hair into her lap over her shoulder, and began to patiently dab at or rub away what blood could still be soaked onto the paper, figiting at every little strand and worrying, internally, at how difficult it was going to be to get the caked mess out. It was a strange sight on the middle of a ravaged field of war.

But on second thought, with this company, it probably fit.
 
Robert finshed off a zombie that was standing near him and Arin. He wasn't really sure what had happened to make them standing so non-violent but it made his job easier. He looked around to Luca. "Are you Ok Boss?" he asked a little unnecessarily. He jogged over to help, slinging his Fatboy as he went
 
Darkness. That was all Vincent could see. Shifting patterns of black on black, like a snake moving under a silk rug. Little embossed patterns of darkness shifting and weaving on an ebony background.

Then the darkness quivered, and a pinprick of white broke through. The pinpricks increased in number until his vision was filled with an almost blinding white light. Then -

"AGH, SHIT! SWEET FUCKING HELL! GODDAMN LOUIS MOTHERFUCKING PASCO; WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!" Vincent was prone, laying in the street where he had been standing before. He didn't remember much about what had happened prior to blacking out. There had been a projectile, and then a thud, and then pain. Vincent remembered a lot of pain. He looked down.

A big scar on the front of his armor where plates had buckled with impact force, pressing in hard against his chest. Vincent gasped suddenly, and the pain surged into his torso. Cracked ribs shifted, grinding against their broken edges. Vincent counted at least six. He was a lucky man, once again.

Vincent gritted his teeth through the pain and then, with excruciating slowness, moved one hand up to turn the COMM switch on his helmet to the "active" position. "Need a medevac here," Vincent grunted, "I'm counting a concussion and several cracked ribs." Then he laid back and stared at the cieling for a while, wondering.
 
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