Darkened Skies IC

[Hellis]

UHC HQ
London, United Kindom.
May 14, 20 years post-invasion. 12:00​

The desk of General Juing Park was cluttered. Reports and maps, coffee mugs and memoribilia from his home was strewn about the heavy oak. He was fifty years of age, but looked like he was 40. But he felt like he was a hundred. He furrowed his brow as he stared at some drone footage. A man they fought dead, seen with a armed guard. A traitor to the human race. A Scion. He scowled and had the urge to shred the picture when a knock interrupted him. He looked up to see a tall, black woman. Her shoulder pin show the Nambian flag. The General smiled at her.

"You wanted to see me general?" There was a tentive edge to her voice. She could clearly tell he was in a foul mood.

"Isn't the 44th currently stationed near southern Pensylvania?" The general dragged up a map of the US on his screen. It showed the progress the were making. A sobering triumph, they had taken back so much. And yet, they had failed to save three billion people.

"Yes. Commondant was just given the task to secure the area along the 112th and the local Psy Op contigency. Part of the East Coast retaking. New Jersey was a mess. The 44th took some heavy losses." She tilted her head slightly.

"Well. Have Commandant take a group north west. Dead Acres. We got a Scion problem."

"Yes Sir."

"Also, tell Commandant to capture alive if possible. And bring in Psy Op on this. to. IF my hunch is correct, a bigger squad will have him turn tail and run the second he sees them."

–

Dead Acres
Pensylvania, USA.
17:00​

The rumbling of the engine made the hull of the "Centipede rumble. The troop transport was sectioned into two compartments, but could be easily merged with several similair "wagons" to make a terrain travelling train of sorts. Right now however, its payload was the people and ammunition of the 44th Mechanical Infantry. The led lamps shone brightly inside, two big screens detailed the current oxygen levels, outside temprature and even seizmic activity, Incase of Gigant activity. Standing by the side hatch was grim looking lady. Her right eye covered by a optic prostethic that looked alot like that of a eyepatch. She was known as Commondant. One of the surviving veterans from the Battle of Sofia 15 years ago. One hell of soldier who now found herself in charge of "Operation Clean Kill"s first phase.

"Alright, Listen up people. We are 10 minutes away from deployment point. Our squads have been tasked with securing the northern entrance to the Dead Acres cemetary. During the Invasion, Dead Acres was converted a resistance drop point but from what we hear, This location has seen alot of scion activity as of late. Our targets are most likely led by former US marine Sergant Mike Rosnick. He went Awol 4 years ago, after leading his squad into a ambush near the Los Angeles hotzone. Top brass were unsure of the nature of the attack untill recently, but can now confirm this slimey son of a bitch works for the enemy. This means the enemy have an idea of how we operate. Sergant Rosnick have been seen along other survivors, apperently using the dissident factions amongs stranded survivors to convert them to his cause. He also seem to have several trained operatives on his side, and they have been seizing old pre invasion armor. This includes old Abraham tanks." She grinned. "This is why of course, we brought the Carrion Queen and a Hades with us. You see any of the traitors new armored force, paint it with a laser and get our Hades to blast them sky high."

Her voice carried over the rumble of the engine and the sound of twelve heavy wheels crushing the terrain under it.

"Recon, take point." The Commandant was soon passed by Blues and Bones, their weapons up and as they covered a angle each.

The screens switched suddenly to monitoring everyone inside as their gear all carried small built in sensors for vitals. The "5 Minutes to deployment." began blinking. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

"Allright boys and girls. Eyes on the prize. Dead Acres is a graveyard. Lets make it a Scion burial ground aswell"

There was a screeching noise and the drivers voice could be heard over the intercom. "Arriving to destination, Commandant. Deploying recon drones to scan the immediate area. Opening side hatches now. Good hunting." There was clicking noise as the locking mechanism disengaged and the side door lay down as ramp.

"Move out." Commandant jumped out as soon as it opened and surveyed her immediate surroundings. Dead Acres wasn't a large town but it had still been razed the ground. Everything was grey with ash, black with charcoal and rubble littered everything. The church that had been a place of refuge for early resistance fighter was still standing, even if the side chapel was but a crater. It was the height of the Summer but the island climate tempered it somewhat at this time of the day.

"Weapons hot. Look alive. I want a Lockdown in that tower Asap. Glitter, You take Bones, Doc and Omicron and prepare to move when Carrion Queen does. The enemy is bunkered down in town, she'll work as your bunker buster." She hit her communicator, briefing the three mechs.
.
"Carrion Queen. We'll use your bulk to pave the way. Lefty i'll need you by the South-Western entrence. Limbo, make sure you are primed. We likely gonna have to blast whatever fortification they have made further in town. There was a buzzing noise as she brought up a what appeared to be a bendable screen. It lit up with a crude map of the place.

"This is what our Recon Drones could map before something shortened them out. The Town is rubble and ruins, perfect for ambushes. There is a single tank aimed down the main road. That one will be your first target Limbo. Once that round fires, the heat will come. We have to be situated by then. These people aren't as outfitted or trained as us, but we do not know their numbers and we do know they are blood crazy. Do not underestimate them. Armand, Cobra. You are with me. We will scout and disable the out the gun emplacements. Reaver, Big A, Blues. Be ready for my signal. You will move with Lefty as cover on the second entrance.When we blow the guns, we'll need you to link up with us three."


Area Layout:
http://i.imgur.com/jHVOv1M.png

 

[RJS]

Rocking back and forth as the Caterpillar ground its way towards Dead Hills, Oskar 'Omicron' Baumhauer sat running a sharpening stone along the edge of his falxion, bringing the forwards-curving blade to a keen edge, and the pickaxe-like tip to a vicious point. All that was left to do before their arrival was one last check through the first aid kit strapped to the back of his hips. Looking up, he scanned the interior of the transport, containing the men and women of the 44th Mechanical Infantry. A couple of unfamiliar faces caught his eye. Their unconventional armour and minimal weaponary marked them out as Psy-Op. That said something about the mission, if Psy-Op were involved. A lot of soldiers were terrified of them - there were a lot of horror stories about Psykers whose minds snapped on the battlefield and began wreaking havoc on their allies. However, in his 6 years on the frontlines, Oskar had seen enough of their abilities to have a healthy respect for them; they were, after all, fighting this war on both a physical and psychological front.

Stowing his falxion away, Oskar opened up the first aid kit whilst the initial briefing began. Sterile dressings, check. Emergency painkillers, check. AED, check. Former marine turned Scion? Fuck. Tanks? Fucking hell. Scions were normally bearable enough - most of them were lightly armed militia fanatics lacking even the most basic of training and poorly led. This lot would be the exception, it seemed.

The side doors clicked open. Disco. Grabbing his weapon, Oskar slid out of his harness and proceeded down the ramp. Listening to the orders for deployment, he headed over over to a wall a little towards the south, and ducked down behind it, waiting for the others to join him. Oskar was already uncomfortable about this mission. Firstly, it seems that this bunch of Scions might just know what they're doing, and now the drones were shorted out? This day just kept getting worse and worse.

"Commandant, this is Omicron. Do we have any confirmation on what took out the drones? I don't like walking into nasty surprises if I can help it."

 

[GreatWest]

Rafaela, "Cobra"

With her head tipped back and eyes closed, resting against the Centipede's wall as the transport made its way towards their destination, Rafaela "Cobra" da Silva Carvalho took use of the little time to sort out her thoughts as the Commandant listed them the details of the mission. Usually, missions involving Scions weren't that hard, after all, they're mostly a bunch of crazy people waving around dangerous toys. But then, for some reason, this mission felt different. And the reason was soon given by the Commandant. A former marine? Stolen armory? Well, that did indeed difficult things up. When the "5 minutes to deployment" screen began blinking, Rafaela opened her eyes to truly look around. Most of the troop was unfamiliar to her, recognizing only a few of them. As always, there was those who stared wary at her, always miserably failing to try and hide their stares whenever the woman's eyes locked on theirs. It was amusing, so she just smiled.

Finally, the transport came to a halt, and its doors clicked open. The first thing she noticed was how scrambled the city looked, if not for this mission, Rafaela would have thought it abandoned. And maybe, in a way it was, otherwise, there wouldn't be dark shadows creeping up on her. She noticed no one else saw them. Hallucinations then. She wondered what could they possibly mean? The ghosts of those who once resided here? Maybe. Diego also agreed with her.

The sudden voice of the Commandant drew her attention away from the shadows, her ears picking up the usage of her callsign, and the order given to her. Rafaela simply nodded, knowing better than to interrupt the other woman. It shouldn't be a difficult task, to disable the gun emplacements. Though the sudden image of blood and death made her think twice. This mission wasn't going to be an easy one.

 

[Goldmarble]

She waited. Ensconced in the Artemis frame that she called Corvus, she hated waiting. She had already run through her diagnostic checks, twice while in transit, in addition to the pre-flight checks. Corvus was running fine. Sometimes it felt like an obsessive complex that forced her to keep running diagnostics; but in consolation, she was damn near sitting on the shielding of a fusion reactor. Instead, she double checked the instrument read-outs, making sure everything was nominal and ready for the coming patrol. Ammunition stores were fully loaded, the inductive fuse setting for the 40mm was tested and fine. Bores were sighted and reticules were aligned for her three weapons. External safeties were disengaged, command safeties were active, but she would turn those off as soon as the doors opened. Thrusters were charged, and ready for deployment.

Everything was in order. Kerttu continued to wait, anxious to get moving, to have something get her mind off of the "what if..." thoughts that pecked at her constantly.

The comms clicked, and she heard the voice of the Commondant. A wave of relief of something to focus on, washed over her, as she listened intently. Most of it was just re-briefing them on what they had all, already gone over before leaving. Repetition was standard. But it was comforting.

When the doors finally opened, Kerttu shifted the Corvus' weight, and exited first; before the Carrion Queen and the Hades. Her sensors began scanning their surroundings, seeking out anomalous inconsistencies in the husk of a town that could indicate a threat, while she shifted position to make room for the two, much larger vehicles. She waited for them to deploy, covering their exit from the Centipede. They all needed the heavyweights, they were best equipped to deal with the Scion's armour.

Continuing to listen to the Commondant, the Corvus followed orders, swiftly moving to the South-West entrance to the town, taking partial cover behind the rubble and ruin of buildings. Looking to see what was down the road, and if there was anything waiting for them. As their commander listed the three to provide support, she filtered their comm ids into a sub-channel, which gave their transmissions precedence over the others, barring the commander, and gave her a direct line to them. Kerttu would wait for Reaver, Big A, and Blues to form up, before moving out.

 

[Potatocat]

Robert grumbled as he moved around the cramped interior of the transport. It was a pretty tight fit even without the massive hulking mass of The Carrion Queen queen. Throughout the trip he checked, double checked, and then checked his mech again. Making certain that everything was in its place, the ammo was stored properly and nothing was leaking.

When the Commandant began her briefing he used the remote control to open the mech and climb inside. When safely inside, and with comms turned safely off, he muttered to himself. "Damn crazy bitch is lucky I got my hands on the damn information before we set out. What would she have done if I loaded mostly HE?" He digressed into an unintelligible muttering of complaints and grips as he switched the various systems and quickly spun up the ammo systems to make sure they worked.

The voice of a sultry woman came, from as far as Robert could tell, from the Carrion Queen herself. "All systems are nominal."

With a heavy sigh Robert replied, "Yeah Queeny, I can see that on the readouts."

The woman replied with a heavy humph. "Fine then. I will just stop doing my job then."

At that moment the doors opened, and the engine of the Carrion Queen roared to life and the mechanical beast lurched forward and out the door. His sensors began their initial scans and the heat signature tracking went nuts and Robert's user interface lit up with all sorts of information. Not much of it was very useful or revealing and didn't tell him much more than he already know.

Robert chimed in over the comms to the entire group, "Alright guys. As the commandant said, there is definitely a piece of pre-invasion armor here. Also, as maybe the Commadant's drones missed, there is a pretty significant heat signature in the old hospital. Assume Scion's don't follow the widely accepted etiquette of war." The sarcasm dripping from the last sentence was almost tangible.

 

[Grothnor]

Sten listened to the briefing silently, eager to know why he had been hastily assigned to the 44th. Sgt. Rosnick's name rang a bell; he had been on the Psy-Ops' briefings list of possible Scions in the sector. Sten immediately knew why he had been attached to the 44th ​for this mission: he was meant to perform the initial field interrogation. It certainly wouldn't be the first time he'd done so. He certainly looked the part of a Psy-Ops Interrogator with his prominent implants and surgery scars, as well as his nearly permanent frown. He gave an affirmative response to Commandant and mentally prepared himself.

He noticed the other person in the squad wearing the Psy-Ops uniform. It wasn't exactly in standard issue condition, but few were; each one was tailored to the unique powers of the wearer in minor ways. They hadn't met, but that was because he had only arrived in the States a month ago, and was transferred to the forward command post a week ago, and had been out on assignment for most of that time. He had seen her file, or what his clearance would allow, and knew that 'Cobra' escewed the use of 'Agent' in her callsign, though she had certainly earned it.

The Psy-Ops had been a secred branch of the UHC for almost three years since it's inception, so as to conceal their activities and to hide the potential morale hit from publicly acknowledging a project that could have cost more lives and resources than it did good. Before the declassification, Psy-Operatives all used 'Agent' as part of their callsign. After declassification, some kept it as a sign of seniority or veterancy, as the Psy-Ops didn't have ranks that amounted to much of anything; Sten officially held the rank of Lieutenant, but Psy-Ops had no sway over any other branch, so in truth, he was little more than a glorified civilian.

Others dropped the agent title in order to merge with other UHC forces better. The Psy-Ops still have a scary reputation, even now that they're officially recognized, and dropping the callsign was one step into integration. Others dropped the moniker out of shame of some of their cloak-and-dagger activities. Sten kept 'Agent' in his callsign out of a sense of pride. He did good work for the sake of humanity during those first years, work no others could. The UHC had given him the chance to strike back at the F'hatagar, so he was grateful for and proud of every opportunity they gave him, great and small.

Rooting out Scions was honest, beneficial work, like removing cancer from a body. The five minute warning and final orders were given. Sten reached behind his head to deactivate his limiter and deeply inhaled. The nearby electronics fluctuated momentarily as he exhaled. A kind of sixth sense awoke, like eyes opening from deep sleep. It came into focus as he not-quite-saw, not-quite-heard the surface thoughts around him, and somewhere in the distance, in the direction of the town, saw-heard faint echoes of thoughts. They're out there. Sten thought as his scowl left his features. Time to go to work.

 

[E.T.]

Tap tap tap tap. Sarah's heels beat against the side of the Hades in time to the music. ten minutes out and she was still casually sprawled across her operator's chair, legs hanging out of the open cockpit, eyes shut and a pair of headphones pulled down over her ears. Not exactly proper etiquette but with three large mechs taking up most of the space not many were around to point this out. As the song finished she looked down at her watch and with a sigh shifted herself higher into her seat, pulling the teddy bear that had been sitting in her lap close to her stomach. By her guess and by what her watch was telling her they were only a few songs away from the drop point. As she sat up the sounds of someone stomping around the transporter broke through the lull of music that filled her ears. In a knee jerk response she opened her eyes and was a bit disappointed to see that it was just a Zombie passing around the cramped compartment. Opening her mouth she almost said something when the muted voice of Commandant could be heard coming softly from the next compartment up.

"Aw time to suit up." Sarah said looking down at her bear and giving it an affectionate squeeze before stuffing it away in a small compartment to her left, her CD player joined the bear after a few moments as she let that last song finish up. One of the props of riding and control the biggest of the mech was that she was afforded a bit of leg room, so to speak, so that when the door closed in on her she still had a fair amount of room with which to stretch around something not afford some of the slimmer, lighter models. The sound engines revving up reverberated throughout the compartment with only the soft echos reaching Sarah through the thick armor plating that surrounded her. Maybe it wasn't even the engines that she heard, perhaps it was the living metal itself grumbling along with its fellows. The five minute warning sounded and with deft movements she slipped her hands and feet into their controls. As the Hades' engine roared to life a visor lowered over her eyes and the visual guidance system blinked into life. the numerous camera's scattered around the outside of the mech gave the impression that the heavy walls around her had turned invisible. In the corner of her vision a series of numbers and measurements appeared overlaying the blank interior of the compartment. A steady glance told her that everything was running normal and a few dry clicks followed by the sound of the railgun powering up and then powering down confirmed that all systems were ready to do.

With a loud ca-thunk the centipede ground to a halt the doors opening wide to allow the troops to exit. So began the fun. Lefty was the first to exit being the one closest to the door, followed quickly by Deadman; everyone was just an eager beaver today weren't they. The centipede had a rather low clearance so Limbo was a bit slower getting out, the legs of her mech bent nearly up to gun as she scuttled out of the carrier. As she exited the communicator buzzed into life Commandant relaying orders faster than everyone could follow them. They had a tank huh? How very cute. With a grin Limbo's fingers twitched and in response several of the indicators in the top right of her vision switch from red to green.

"This is Limbo, safeties are off and I will be ready to fire on your mark." Sarah said as she directed the Hades away from the main body of troops. While the troops' helmets would help muffle the sound of gunfire breaking the sound barrier right next to someone without the protection of a mech was not a very nice thing to do. That and the railgun had a tendency to release a cloud of molten metal when fired. After retreating almost 100 meters she stopped, turning and adjusting her position so that she had a broad view of the crippled town. The living metal of the machine vibrated against her skin, responding to the subtle commands that she fed it. Purposefully she had taken up position out of sight of the main road, so as not to invite the scions into taking cheap shots at her. Of course it also blocked her immediate view, but who ever said that she needed to see her target. A rapid twist of Sarah's wrist caused an exact copy of the map Commandant had been using to appear in her vision. A combination of visual cues and rapid hand movements caused her target to become highlighted in red, the map neatly turning in on itself until it overlay completely with what her opticals were picking up. Two buildings lay in the direct path between her and the tank. As long as the buildings weren't packing a serious overkill of reinforcements and steel plating it wouldn't prove to be any trouble. The sensors that each of the soldiers were wearing synced in and tiny blue outlines appeared across her vision, ducking and dodging through the hills of rubble. This was a handy little feature that allowed made sure she wasn't going to take out any of their own troops or mechs when shooting blind. A couple of blue outlines in particular caught her attention and after a bit of focusing and zooming in she was able to identify the two.

"Omicron, Agent Reaver, you two might want to move a few paces off. Right now this shot is going to give you one narrow part." Sarah said. There was a long pause before her communicator clicked on again and a soft chuckle could be heard as she spoke again. "Although Agent Reaver you might want to stay, who know it might make you grow a few hairs."

Alright, potentially insulting a Psy-op? Maybe not one of Sarah's best ideas. On the bright side she was pretty sure she heard one of the other ground troops give a soft laugh before he muted his communicator. Then again it could have been a soft gasp, hard to tell really. It might have been the fact she piloted the biggest gun, might have been just some small disconnect, but Limbo was never really good at using fear to her own advantage.

 

[Crispy]

Amid the others who sat in the confines of the armoured carrier Armand rested his eyes and let his head sag forward. His rounds were counted and bombed well before he'd entered the vehicle. At his back a small pouch with all of his essentials, and at his waist his sidearm. The barrel of his rifle was driven into his boot and his cheek lay resting on it. Nerves rattled his body and his hands were clammy. Far from his first time deploying with the UHC the nerves would never go away; at least he prayed they didn't. Complacency kills after all.

The side door of the Centipede began opening and as everyone filled out Armand stirred from his apparent slumber and followed suit. Outside of the APC his eyes took a moment to adjust, going over the scenery of arbitrarily built homes and the general chaos that seemed to engulf the edges of Dead Acres. His eyes moved on from the town and its main road off to the side, towards the church. The tower was appealing in that he would be able to see nearly everything in the town, but taking up such an obvious position while the enemy had big guns was asking to be blown to bits like some movie cliché.

Armand drew his attention away. Doubtful that the Commandant would have him and a lightly equipped Psy-Op clear a church he took a position near Cobra, throwing a half-smile her way. His attention returned to the main road where the Abrams was supposed to be, and he raised his rifle, pressed his cheek against the butt and looked through the scope. Surveying the terrain in a finer detail this time he look for the telltale signs of activity; garbage, footprints, tracks, and above all else movement.

Commandant wasted little time, she moved with silent and quick feet. She headed north wards, keeping her head low. "Leave the Abraham to Limbo." She spoke in a low voice as she stopped by a set of blown out houses, peering past the corner up at the gun emplacement.

"That's a M199A2. The likely got in the early stages from one of the National Guard armories." She spoke trough gritted teeth. "If limbo fires without us taking it down, they could answer her with some pretty heavy ordinance." She grabbed a set of binoculars that hung at her hips. Scouting the hill out one could see the woman count them to herself.

"Gun crew of 5. Two extra in case of casualties I assume. Armed with old M-16's and beat up Mauler rifles. The gun crew looks hardened. The extras look like very typical militia men. Armand. Draw a bead on the man with the red helmet. He is clearly in charge. Me and Cobra will get closer to follow up. Cobra. Have your spears ready. I assume you can take out two at once, correct? We do this as one." She got on the radio.

"What took out the drones were simple short range wavelength jammers. They set up jammer dead zone close to the hospital. Our short wave communication should be safe; drones are far more sensitive to jammers. Regardless, Eyes peeled people."

Armand came up behind the Commandants left, taking a knee and bringing the rifle to his shoulder and checking for his own assurance that she was correct. She was. Lowering the weapon he looked around for suitable cover. Finding a low position amid the rubble he made his way over in a crawl and lay prone in the space. "Ready. Tell me when." The crosshairs of his rifle swayed with his breath as he slowed his heartbeat through controlled breathing. In. Out. In. Out. He could feel his pulse in his fingertips, and as the two other women of his squad pushed up he brought the crosshairs onto the red helmeted man. Either he was in charge like the Commandant said, or the obviously eye catching helmet was to keep the real superior safe from men just like Armand. Either way when the signal came, a round of lead was going to smash into his chest and leave the man on the ground. Any emotion Armand ought to have felt were dulled by years training and experience. His finger clutched the trigger in anticipation.

Collaboration by @Hellis and CAS

 

[FrostedCaramel]

Holliday peered around the Centipedes hold, stopping on Omnicron. 'A veteran, he's been fighting longer than most survive.' he thought as Omnicron took out his lousy excuse for a medical bag and began a check of it. The medic let out a small sigh, 'It's nice to not have to do all the medical on my own, but this guys is just going to get in the way...' rolling his eyes he opened his bag. A quick glance over the contents ensured him that all was in order, IV Kits, scalpels, trauma dressings, standard gauze, airway management pouch was perfect as well, trauma section was good, all medications were properly stored as he had left them when they had set out. 'Good to go' he thought as the briefing began.

Commandant was giving her briefing as Holliday moved his view once more to the rest of the squad. Most were members he knew, a few were new additions. 'Psy-ops' he thought as his gaze passed over not one but two agents. Psy-Ops were something entirely different to treat, they bled like any other human, lost limbs like any other, died like any other. But they didn't suffer through it like any other, on more than one occasion Doc had watched his fellow medical personal kill themselves as the pain and pressure of the Psy-Operative they were treating was laid into their mind while the agents clung to life and lost control of their abilities... 'And the augmentations, jesus they get in the way.' the male operative that had been attached to the 44th had quite a lot of augments by the looks of it. From what Doc understood from both experience and training, they had something to do with reigning in their powers. Keeping them under control, or something of the sort, his knowledge was admittedly limited on Psy-Operatives.

The lights in the cabin switched off and the red running lights came on. Holliday checked his weapons chamber, inserted a magazine and pulled back the cocking hammer. "Show time." he whispered. The doors to the centipede gave a notable click and fell outward allowing those inside to disembark. Holliday dropped down from the centipede and immediately moved to a half destroyed wall of a no longer standing house. Placing his back against the wall he raised his head just slightly above it to get a quick look around. 'No need for me to get my head blown off so early' he mused in his mind as he put his head back below the cover.

"Glitter, You take Bones, Doc and Omicron and prepare to move when Carrion Queen does."

I'm going to cross the street, make my way to Omni! Crossing." Doc said as he hauled himself up from behind the wall and ran across the street to where Omnicron was hunkered down. "Long time no see huh?" the medic said jokingly as he slid into the wall beside Omnicron.

"Doc is set with Omni, Glitter what's your pos so we can make our way to you?" he relayed into his radio as he watched the Carrion Queen, massive and menacing make its way out of the Centipede. Something about the mechs seemed to put Holliday at ease. Perhaps it was the fact that they had so much firepower, and when it came to firepower... Carrion Queen was the cream of the crop.

 

[RJS]

"Roger that, Commandant. Should we consider deactivation of the jammers an objective if we encounter them so we can get some intel feeds back up again?"

Oskar liked having information beyond where he could see. It meant less surprises, and surprises in this line of work were never fun. Besides, having aerial intel reduced the chances of their target slipping away. Oskar peeked over the wall again. Where were the other 3?

Limbo's voice came in over the comms, making him chuckle. "Alright Limbo, I'll see how low I can go" Oskar replied, shifting down again and hunkering a little lower.

Suddenly Doc slipped in next to him, giving Oskar a jump. Jeez. Pre-battle jitters never went away, no matter how many times you went in there. "What's up, Doc?" Oskar replied to the medic's greeting. Oskar had seen Doc at work before, and the medic's presence was much appreciated. Oskar could keep people clinging on to the brink of life, but Doc was a man who could reach down and pull them back away from death. Just his presence meant they might have a chance of pulling through no matter what.

"Glitter, have you met up with Bones? If so, I'm thinking we split into twos and push through the houses on each side of the street. It wouldn't surprise me to find some sort of anti-armour units hiding in those houses for cover. Last thing we want is Deadman finally living up to his callsign."

 

[Snakey]

Keith's stomach churned as the centipede rolled along. He didn't fare too well in more open transports, let alone in such enclosed quarters. He checked over his equipment again, for what must have been the twelfth time this entire trip. Not so much for reconfirmation, but just to take his mind off the constant rolling and shifting. He peered up at those around him, many of which were checking their own hardware. A couple stood out, Psy-ops. Lightly armored uniforms and implants had them sticking out in the compartment of otherwise 'proper' soldiers. Their presence had visibly alarmed some of his fellows, understandable considering the horror stories surrounding the psychers. However, Keith didn't treat them as anything other than that, stories. No, what instead worried the sergeant was their reason for coming. Psions were a mean bunch for sure, especially so when backed up by actual training and some solid military hardware, but they were still just people. The Psi-ops operatives suggested something else was up, perhaps something headquarters was keeping from them.

Keith's stream of thought was interrupted by the badgering voice of The Commandant. A short flush of relief passed over him as he would soon be freed from his mobile prison though it was thwarted by the standard feeling of dread that preceded all combats.

He listened closely, one of the more important skills in the 44th ​as the Commandant chittered orders faster than most men could think and had a great dislike for repeating herself. Something Keith had tested liberally in the past. He nodded along as she rattled off callsigns; Omnicron, Doc, Bones. He had a pretty good crew going.

The centipede came to a lurching halt and Keith nearly lost his lunch with it. The doors opened and the 44th ​began piling out, leaving the sergeant behind. He took a moment to take in the fresh air and settle his roiling stomach before staggering out in to the open. He vaguely remembered Dead Acres from a road trip when he was kid. A small, religious town only really known for it's grim name and only good for it's gas station. As far as he was concerned the invasion had done the town well, giving it a depressing ambiance to match the depressing name.

Suddenly his comms flooded, first with Deadman's concern with enemy armor, "Alright zombie, I'll make sure to keep an eye out." the sergeant answered plainly. Second he addressed the good doctor, "I'm making my way to your position now Doc, Bones should be following." He motioned for the Chiléan to follow him as he continued casually to his crew's position. "Omnicron. Yes, I have Bones with me." He looked over his should to confirm that was true, "As for your little plan, Yes I expect there to be some form of anti-armor. Be odd if these crazies managed to pick up freakin' Abrams without grabbing up a recoilless rifle or two, but we should not split up. We only got four guys to begin with and if either of those teams get ambushed their's no way the other can make in time before they get wasted. Besides, I want Doc as close as possible. I say we stick together on the south side of the road clearing it as we go, if any crazies stop popping shots at queeny on the north side just burn 'em out with the that reaper of yours." Keith finally made it to Omni and Doc, plopping down beside them with a heavy sigh.

"Truth be told, I wouldn't worry too much about Deadman. If one of our heaviest mechs can get wasted by a couple of pre-invasion hand-cannons I think we'd have a much bigger problem on our hands."

 

[Hellis]

-Commandants Squad.-
​

Commandant snuck up to a pile of rubble twice as big as her and crawled up so that she had a good flank on the fire team. She breathed slowly as she let her hand slip down to the blue lined sphere of her shrapnel grenade. She made sure the psy op had made her way next to her before she carefully took it of her belt. The thing was genuine beuty of cruel engineering. instead of exploding outright, it just magnetically propelled out a hundred or so tiny shards in every direction. COmpletely recycable. The wonders of resource preserving war machine.

"Cobra. Get ready. Your spears will have to put down any survivor the second the grenade goes." She spoke as she set the timer and prepared the trigger.

"Armand, Now. Limbo, Fire"

She tossed the Grenade the second Armand shot.

-Glitters Squad.-​

There little planning session was broken up by the sound of a rifle round. And then the sound of agrenade going off. And then, those angry smattering noises paled in comparsison to the railgun round. Bones nodded as he followed sergant. About three seconds after the first round. Lockdowns rifle sounded from the church tower as he picked off a man running across the street far away, toting around on what appeared to be a stinger.

Then all hell broke lose as several smaller missiles shot out from far int he back, smashing down all around them. Luckily it seems to have been a blind shot.



"They a mortar team working within the ruins!" Bones said as he held onto his helmet, gravel flying all around them as more shells rained down in blind vengence. Commandants voice suddenly heard over the coms. "Carrion. Your up. Pave us way in"

Carrion
​

Carrions burden would appear to be one a bit more heavy then anticapated. By now fire reigned down from a dozen places. Most of it only scratched paint job, even the mortar shells seemed to ding off Carrions bulk. But the Stingers would be something else entirely. TO many of those would be a trouble. Right now, the way up the street was clear all the way to one of the Stingers now lay useless on the ground. But a dozen heat signatures on the left flanked seemed to try and sneak around Glitters group towards the church were Lockdown were, another was headed right towards them behind cover, toting some pretty serius hardware. Atleast one stinger.

​

-Reaver-​

Big A looked to Reaver then at Blues. The japanese woman was built like a fridge. All muscle under that kevlar and fiber carapace. Her rifle rested in her hands like som childrens toy. Big A lived up to her name. "We are all ready to go h here Commandant." She said as she took position and checked her rifle. That's when the bullet rang from Commandants shot.

"MOVE!" She pushed past the corner and moved with her side to the wall. Soon chaos erupted. From a several places within the ruins gun fire rattled of like firecrackers from hell towarsd the the direction where Commandant, and Cobra just had turned a gun emplacement to 6 shallow graves. "Up on the hill!" A pointed to where the majority of the pinning fire came from. She let of a few shots in their direction and managed to burst some sort of generator open. Electricity and sparks flying everywhere before she had to duck.


"Lefty, you're up" Blues spoke into her com as Big A popped another few rounds. "Agent Reaver, is it possible for you to use the electrical cabinet for your powers. We need that hill cleared"



–

Lefty​

Lefty on the other hand, while close to Reaver and his group, was being hit with small armfire. Her sensors would indicate something mettallic and big was being dragged trough one of the sidestreets away from them while a humvee seemed to be gunning down full throttle towards Reavers flank.
---

Updated map

http://imgur.com/71d08Km

 

[GreatWest]

Cobra nodded as the Commandant gave orders, already picking up the two Einbrium spears hanging on the side of her hip. They were fine, long, sharp, and, most importatantly, light. Perfect for a telekinetic. Suddenly, she dropped them, but before they could touch the ground the spears started to float. Cobra used her now free hands to tie her hair in a high ponytail, preventing them from falling on her face. She turned to the Commandant and smiled.

"But of course, Commandant. It'll be easy as taking candies from a child." The woman said in a smug voice, ignoring the other voice going you sure?. Now was not the time for Diego to be distracting her, he knew it could cost her life. But then, he must miss her. Or he would, if he were real. Cobra shook that thought out of her head, taking a deep sigh to release the tension. It was just then that she noticed the spears on the ground, shaking as if in fear. The brunette made sure to pick them up as fast as possible and hope no one noticed that. Fortunately, most were focused on the Commandant as she listed the orders. Rafaela could not afford people thinking she was going mad. But you are. Not the point. The Commandant started to move, sneaking up to a pile of rubble with Cobra right behind, the latter moved swiftly, with both of her spears on hand. She watched as the older woman breathed slowly and picked up the shrapnel grenade. Such a small object, such a deadly force.

"Copy that." Cobra nodded to the order, stretching her neck as she prepared for chaos. Commandant tossed the grenade. And it came. Cobra stood up just enough to see the survivors, and to throw her spears. At first, they had no course, since they were thrown randomly, but once the Psy Op laid her eyes on them, they gained speed and new direction. They moved with a goal. Cobra let a small smile slip her lips as the spears pierced the neck of two survivors, simultaniously. They bodies didn't even have time to drop before the little weapons were already on the move again, killing any who Cobra deemed enemy. She even let her weapons pierce those already dead, better safe than sorry.

"Commandant, the survivors are almost nonexistent in this area." She said without taking her eyes out of the spears, her fingers twitching once in a while. There was one last sound of flesh being ripped, and Cobra smiled. "Done."

She pretended not to see the dark clawed shadows lifting from the corpses.

 

[Goldmarble]

Lefty reacted instantly, seeing the vehicle charging around the corner, heading right for Reaver's squad position. "Primary target, Blind left of you Reaver!" She called out into the sub-channel, connected to Big-A, Reaver, and Blues. "Humvee, approaching fast, engaging." Swiveling the torso of Corvus, while getting a target tracking lock on the vehicle, she adjusted the aim of the Gatling, giving the vehicle a smidge of lead, anticipating where it would be a moment later, before she pulled the trigger with her left forefinger. The barrels lurched into motion and accelerated nearly instantly to thirteen-hundred rpm, before the feeder unit threw ammunition into the loading gate, creating a momentary hesitation between the pull of the trigger, and the blurred-together barks of detonation. From the muzzle shroud, spitting fire, came a wave of armour piercing, and tracer ammunition, the tracers giving off little visible light, except in the IR spectrum. Sent back to the ammunition back, were the polymer cases for the ammunition, conserving valuable material to be reloaded. She held the trigger for a little over a second, as the mech tracked the vehicle, releasing a thirty round burst which should disable the target, quite readily.

Then she twisted back to the direction of the small arms fire, her right hand already setting the 40mm cannon to program the round for barrier penetration mode, she simply aimed for the wall the incoming fire was coming from, and pulled the trigger. The bolt drove the massive cartridge from the feed, into the chamber, and fired it. Dust and rubble on both sides of the gun kicked up in the wake of the propellant ejecting from the muzzle brake, as just over a kilogram of projectile was launched in the Scion's direction. It would punch through the concrete wall, and detonate on the other side, scattering fragments and tungsten shot to neutralize the threat. The gun itself kicked back into its cradle-like recoil mechanism, before ejecting the stub of the combustible case to the ground, and resetting itself for the next shot.

Kerttu pulled back, quickly, in case the enemy had anything more effective than small arms to counter her with. Corvus could withstand small arms fire, but unlike the Carrion Queen, it couldn't weather anything much more substantial. "Presents delivered. Report effectiveness." She quipped over to Reaver and the squad, before opening comms with the Commandant, "Potential weapon, or high value target location identified. In current withdraw by enemy." She quickly sent the necessary information to the commander of the mission through data-link. From what Lefty could tell, it looked as if the enemy might be trying to withdraw it all together, or reposition it. On the positive side, if they kept going down that alley, the Commandant, and Armand would likely have eyes on it shortly.

 

[Grothnor]

Limbo's jibe made Sten smirk. It wasn't every day he met a trooper who was brave enough to mock a Psy-Operative. He was impressed by her ballsiness. He would have telepathically transmitted his laughter into her mind, but such displays often provoked the opposite intended reaction, and, more to the point, he couldn't pinpoint her mental signature, even with the increased 'broadcast' range afforded by his EEP-MoWS. I wonder what kind of reaction she'd have to 'eep-mouse's' name.

Then the fighting started. Sten largely stayed under cover, letting Big A and Blues do all the work; he was hardly equipped for the job and his powers were best suited for support. When Sten felt the generator sparking, the idea was already in his head. With one figurative psychic hand he grasped at the power arcing from the generator, building it up and storing it, while with his other he grasped for the minds of every scion in the building.

"We need that hill cleared."Big A called to Reaver. By that time the generator had stopped sparking, and Sten's face was a rictus of concentration as he finalized his efforts. With a wordless cry, a bolt of lightning arced forth from the generator, striking one scion in the face before leaping to the next, and the next. Sten corralled the lightning and guided the energy though hearts or heads, forcing it not to ground itself, but to pass through whatever he wanted.

"Cool!" Sten recognized the voice and paid it no heed. Instead he redoubled his efforts, striking the last man with such fury he caught flame. "Awww, man! That was SICK little bro!" He caught his breath from the exertion, but refued to turn towards the voice. He knew what he would see: a tomboyish thirteen year old girl, who after two years never tired of watching his psychic displays and after eighteen years, hadn't aged a day, physically or mentally. Not now, Jess, I need to focus. The firing from the building seemed to have dwindled, and Lefty took out a Humvee headed down the street to flank them, as well as any surviving enemies he hadn't been able to zap; all the mental signatures had faded, so Sten radioed back to Lefty, "Presents appreciated, all targets eliminated." If that was all the scions had to throw at them, this would be a cakewalk, but he seriously doubted it would be that easy.

 

[Potatocat]

With the troops flanking around to his side, Robert didn't think twice before locking onto their heat signatures and launching a small barrage of missiles that shot a few feet forward because lobbing themselves into the air and then dropping themselves onto the unsuspecting Scions. The multiple explosions happened in rapid succession causing a rippling sound over on the other side of the buildings. From his calculation it should have been effective.

"We had some bastards to our right, they should be dead. Anyone want to confirm?" He spouted over the comm system.

Before receiving an answer he moved into position to fire on the anti-armour squad moving towards him. "Alright Queeny. Hit them with something hard." He let out a blast of fire from the minigun before following up with a few shots of HE from the 40mm. The loud brrrrrt of the minigun complimented with the steady thud of the cannon caused the air to quiver. He then moved the mech back around the corner, hopefully out of the line of sight of any moron with a rocket in his hands.

"Sarg, you want to comfirm if that was effective fire?" He said with a quizzically smart ass tone.

 

[Crispy]

His finger curled ever so slowly gently squeezing the grooved steel trigger anticipating the Commandants orders. Her words brought an exclamation of gunfire. As the primer was struck, sending forward a charge into the gunpowder, and in turn propelling the round forward towards the red helmeted man's chest. Instantly he dropped. Armand slowly released on the trigger, a slow exhale accompanying it as the smell of cordite filled his lungs. A smile curled onto his face as the two women of his squad dealt the blows to the others.

The aftermath of his shot was immediate. A flurry of gunfire, explosions, and calamity befell the area, and all Hell seemed to have broken loose. Safe from any fire Armand did all that he could to sight the area from his limited position. The relay over the radios aided him in spotting, but it seemed no sooner he'd have eyes on an enemy that someone would force them behind cover, or into a permanent retirement. Continuing with his limited overwatch Armand cast his sights beyond the entrenched soldiers on the hilltop that Reaver's squad was engaging, to whatever it was that was coming from behind them. His rifle would do nothing against any degree of armour, so Armand prepared to relay the info back to the accompanying mechs, unsure whether or not they could immediately engage if it was needed.

 

[Snakey]

'So screw that plan.' The Sergeant thought to himself. These scions were gearing up not to be the usual pushovers.

So they had more than a few 'hand-cannons'. Keith braced as hell began raining on his position, shouting a string of obscenities silenced by the thunderous din of ordinance. Though those familiar with the sergeant could guess his comments weren't LGTB friendly. He had drastically underestimated the enemy's firepower and nearly had his whole squad wasted right off the bat. It was a good thing the average scion had trouble finding the right side of the gun to shoot, let alone shoot with any semblance of accuracy. There was a pause in the chaos and Keith opened his mouth to speak only to be interrupted by the whining of the Carrion Queen's missile barrage.

"We had some bastards to our right, they should be dead." Keith hoped they damn were, but he wasn't going to chance it. "Omn-" he managed before The Carrion Queen let loose yet another round of munitions before ducking behind some buildings. "Sarg, you want to confirm if that was effective fire?"

It took all of Keith's patience not to chew out Deadman right there and then. It was easy for the pilot protected by literal tons of armor to make lighthearted comments in the mortal danger they faced, but his crew could be obliterated at any moment. He reeled in his emotions and replied "We'll see about those guys to our right." He let out a stuttered angry breath, "Omni, you take point. Me and the Doc will cover you. Bones, you cover our behind. last thing we need is to be flanked." He began to make his way to the north side of the barricade. "Heavy ordnance is our priority, if you see anyone carrying something larger a mauler rifle take them out immediately."

This day was setting itself up to be awful.

 

[RJS]

Omicron listened to Glitter's cursing, then the orders. "Copy that, Glitter. Moving into point." Poking his head over their cover once to check that Carrion Queen had annihilated the anti-armour squad, Omicron cut across the street dashing, halting at the edge of a large building. The flanking force had likely been hammered by Deadman's missile barrage, but that was no reason not to take it steady from here. "Lockdown, this is Omicron. Do you have visual on the impact site of Deadman's missiles?" A few seconds passed. "Negative, Omicron. No line of sight."

Sighing to himself, Omicron poked his head around the building, noting a low wall which separated him and the impact site. The odd bit of body lay on his side of the wall, suggesting that at least some of the force would be...severely incapacitated. Dropping to his belly, Omicron crawled up to the wall, taking a crouched position and peering over it.

There was even more rubble now, and small and big craters were littering the place, making the area a paradise for anyone laying low. Among the dead little movement could be seen aside the smouldering corpses of unfortunate Scions but, as Omicron scanned, a bullet pinged of the wall next to him. Some had survived and they were coherent enough to regroup further back. One of them had his head exploded like a melon from one of Lockdown's rounds. Ducking back below the wall, Omicron radioed across. "We have 8 survivors from the missile blast. They're mostly armed with Maulers, but there's a couple of Vindicators lying around as well. They're still suffering from the blast,but they have regrouped. I'll toss in a flashbang to shake them up again, then we go over the wall. Agreed?"

 

[Hellis]

----
Artemis and Commandants Squad

The Humvee was riddles with bullets, and Commadant preyed to the god she was so not on good terms with that it was not loaded with explosives. Of course, it was. Why else would a lightly armored car be gunning for them like that. It went up like a fireworks factory on the fourth of july. The roar was ear deafening as the thing turned into a hot cloud of fire and chemicals. A rippling shockwave ripped the nearby ruins asunder, sending fiery mortar skywards and in all directions. One such rock actually pummeled down only a meter in front of Carrion Queen. Where the jeep had been there was now a giant smoking crater. The air smelled of sickly, strange chemicals and the commandant immedietly grabbed her gasmask.

"Everyone. Masks on." She called over comradio. She looked to Cobra "You allright. We need to link up with the others." The smoke was so thick, it was like staring into a wall and the flames were green and bright, giving everything a sickly green tint. Commandant moved cautiously, eyes peeled but the entire place was just filled with smoke.

"What the hell was in that thing." Big A's voice cracked on the com. She was huddled with Blues and Agent Reaver, who's little elecrticity stunt had clearly impressed the two grunts. Commandant found them finally admiss all the smoke. She was about to speak when there was inhuman sound from the direction of the hospital. Guttural, screaming and angry inhuman voices.

"What the fuck." blues blurted out as several big, slowly moving creatures knuckled their way towards them, sporting thick metal armor and guns placed ontop of their shoulders. A scion rode ontop of each A'lurk. More conventional squads could be seen in the wreckage. This was completely fucked, none of this was on the files. SO far they were rounding past the further reaches of the hospital building. Distinguisable only on the Artemis sensor. "Lefty. ARe those noises what I think they are?"

"Limbo" Commandants Called over the radio.. "LEfty is about to give you new targets. Try not to knock down the HOspital if possible. Keep blasting them, if Alurks get close within this smoke, we're all dead."

"ARmand. Get your ass to higher ground. We gonna need you to pick off anything that comes out of that Hospital. I have a feeling this was all a fucking trap."
---
GLitters Squad, Carrion queen.

"There was winding noise, and then the church tower exploded in hail of red glowing timber. Apperently, one had made it past the missile barrage completely, and used the confusion to fire off rpg of some sorts. And then as all this unfolded, Omicron would have a grenade land not to far away from him, the flashbang went of with a loud bang, sending him reeling and altough the light of it had been behind him. The Scions moved in the cover of the craters and the broken buildings and put Omicron between them and Carrion Queen, limitin her options as far field of fire goes. One of them darted down to the righ, and tossed another flashbang towards the remaining squad members.

"Shit. LOCKDOWN!" Blues voice crackled over the comradio. Where the hell did that RPG come from" Another streaked across the battlefield, slamming into the bulky Carrion Queen, not able to penetrate the armor but enough deform small parts of it. Another mortar round followed shortly after, firing more blindly now, clearly having problems aiming in the smoke

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