Spark Pine, C6I, Duskerian Legion PAIN trooper, a behemoth of a human woman... Had been trying to enjoy a quiet bar night when the screaming started. From the chittering and the growls, she knew exactly what was doing the killing. Hell, she hunted these things for fun. Hearing Mochi's call to arms, she looked down at her casual tee shirt and jeans, closing her eyes inhaling deeply through her nose.
Breathing a deep, rumbling sigh, she spoke calmly, "What dumb asshole brought pack roaches up here...?"
Ultimately, though, that wasn't important right now. She quickly reached over, stealing a knife from the bar before approaching Mochi and offering a crisp salute. "Sir! Warrant grade six, Spark Pine, Duskerian Legion Power Armor Infantry. I hunt those things for fun, and I can handle a one on one fight with one. Get the civilians into the water. I need one of the roaches, then I can tell you how fucked we are. For now, anybody who has weapons should aim for the underbelly, use armor penetrating munitions. The brain is under the second and third dorsal plates, with the brain stem between the third and fourth. Head shots'll only piss them off. Given they've dragged off a few kills, they'll probably retreat for a bit, assess, and reengage. Only reason I can think that they'd come straight here means we got a pregnant one. At least one, and she's ready to lay her eggs. She'll be looking for soft, sandy soil in dense cover and concealment. If you need to get close, try to disable those tentacles. They can send spines through the sound barrier. And that venom is nasty. Speaking of, I have words for whichever idiot brought them out here. Possibly a fist or five."
Sure, at six and a quarter feet, Spark was distinctly shorter than Mochi's current body. But she was distinctly a woman who did not need the muscular assist to run her power armor nearly at full capacity. From high G training to high rep and high weight lifting, her training was visible in her stance and build. If he didn't know any better, she might have had ID-SOL in her blood. But she was still, visibly, a lady. And from the scars on her shoulder, she had survived a shot from one of the Legion's weapons systems. Not that he would know it, but she was to date, the only known survivor of a storm rifle hit, despite it being a malfunction and a glancing blow. More, the scars on her bicep indicated a near miss with at least one of these creatures' jaws. It might, then, have been a thankful thing that he couldn't see the rest of her behind her modest denim pants and tee black tee shirt, with the blue stripe running from left shoulder to right hip. The same stripe that was visible on her armor while she had been on guard duty at the conference. Her eyes glowed red for a moment as she used her Geist to transmit the situation to her superiors, and just as quickly received a reply.
"My armor's two sections away, on the other side of the lockdown. Worse, the nearest storm rifle that has any ammo is on the cruiser parked halfway across the system. So I'm gonna need a yammie gun. Armor penetrating, preferably high energy kinetic. I don't want to ruin the meat. We kill 'em, I'll grill 'em."