Thrusters flared to life as Max pushed up in his Hostile, the enemy machines literally smashed or thrown aside as they ran into two tons of flying armor or the invisible force of his PPG. In a rush to up the ante, his power armor landed with a dull metallic ring at the threshold. At the same time, Richard was right on his tail. Holding the massive double barreled cannon in one hand, and pulling out his chainblade with another, the Marine rushed through the disorientated crowd in his wake, hacking and slashing limbs as they came in his way. Ignoring the stragglers behind them, the thick and heavy blast door in front of them slid open, only to reveal an even dozen of Militants, neatly lined up and marching right at them in formation, four by three deep.
Max's Plasma Autocannon spat out a blue-white lance of energy, the air distorting from the sheer amounts of heat bleeding off from the lethal beam. Like a giant, howling blowtorch, the fire was swept across the crowd of machines, tungsten alloy vaporizing and splattering to the ground as it boiled away. Melting together joints, the machines were bogged down by their own disfigurement as the blue paintbrush swept over them. At the same time, Richard's double barreled railcannon's cracking boom followed on the heels of the unending howl of the torch, the scatter-shot tearing apart the first two in the way and throwing their remains into the units behind them. But before either could continue firing, the ranks of single minded machines raised their autocannons and opened fire as they started to fan out. Under this massed fire, their shields were quickly pummeled down, the two barely retreating into cover in time as their armor shook from the shells that bounced off their plates. Their cover being rapidly chewed away by the high caliber weapons, missiles streaked in as Terrance did his best to catch up and gave them reprieve, the explosives blossoming over the ranks to knock some over and stun the bulk.
"Oh my!" Leaning back, the Nekovalkyrja on Sawyer's shoulder fell out of harm's way right as he took the bulk of fire from the seven remaining stragglers.
Though his shields were draining, he held fast in the massive Aggressor. Covering those that advanced by drawing attention, the marine's death-ray of hot lead outclassed Max's fiery plasma through sheer dakka, the first Militant he set eyes on literally melting into metallic giblets on the floor. Tearing apart the cargo containers as he brought the three blazing guns around, a second and then third met the same fate as the fiery lance swept over them. Lodged into the the wall up high, Mark's own hail of armor piercing rounds from the AMP in his single hand was unsteady and scattered as he clung to the wall. But the sheer volume of impacts made the machine he sighted in dance like a doll before it collapsed in a heap. Everything in view from his roost, the marine kept Sawyer's flanks clear, making a second jerk about with relaxed ease. Wulfe opened up beside Sawyer with his HPAR, taking his time to fire controlled bursts into a stray Militant as his disgust grew, the rounds working up the chest before blowing off the head of his target. In comparison, it was as though Lisa was furious; firing on the move as fast as her Hostile's legs could carry her, she gunned down two of the remaining enemies in the hangar, clearing the area.
"Sawyer, Lisa, Wulfe," Ylfa's voice addressed them in a clipped tone. "Back up the other three and set up a shield wall for them," she ordered them, the red monoeye of her Hostile turning to look at the purple haired woman that floated behind Sawyer's back. She was peeking past his head to see the action for herself.
"Oh, don't get so worked up over a little bit of play," the Nekovalkyrja replied to Wulfe from right behind the Aggressor's ear. "If it's bothering you so much that you're losing to my girls, try harder!" she playfully mocked him. Tossing back some of her hair with a casual wave, the woman added, "Besides, this is just my commanding officer trying to get a feel for the units these filthy terrorists have at their disposal."
"If your CO is so inexperienced with the Freespacers, let alone the angry ones, I suppose it's best she cut her teeth in a sim," Ylfa chimed in, her words cold. "But unless there's something more meaty for my marines to sink their teeth into, I doubt we'll be continuing this 'joint venture' of ours."
"Of course. Unless your marines think it will be too hard?"
The glint in the Nekovalkyrja's eyes and the wide, thin smile she gave told them plenty.
