1945/Crashed Space Whale

Crashed Space Whale
Date of Scene:	03 April 2015
Location:	Earth-115
Synopsis:	XCOM Shoots down a Medium-size signal. Elites help secure the crash site before the aliens can demolish any useful tech.
Cast of Characters:	Crys Gattz, 27, 62, 438, Mortimer Balman, 569, 673, 687

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Elise Leroy (62) has posed:
    TIME: 0430. Location 10000ft above Cairo.

    Alert klaxons start ripping through XCOM Central. "Central Officer! We've got a bogey on long range sensors. It's a big one, Medium-class, not as big as the ship that attacked Washington, but larger than the others we've encountered so far."

    The crew-cut middle-aged man hmms. "Bring it up on the geoscape, and prep Voodoo flight for launch... we're going whale hunting."

    Five minutes later, the pulse detonation jets of the four Ravens that make up Voodoo flight are priming for launch from the vertical tube. They whine to life, then with a WHOOSH of the catapult, each craft launches and veers away to level out. Angling off towards their target. >Voodoo 1-actual to Central. We're in the pipe. ETA to target, three minutes.< crackles the lead plane as the others settle into a diamond formation for hypersonic travel. "Copy Voodoo lead. Check trim, bearing 010 target airspeed 1500 and decelerating... Estimated Intercept Window... 30 seconds." >Copy Central.<

    The Interceptors break formation as they enter the engagement zone. "FANGS OUT!" calls the second plane. "TARGET IS PADLOCKED!" affirms the third. >Central, we are engaged with bandit.< Streams of green plasma lash out from the large ship as it lumbers through the sky, like tracer bullets from an olden battleship as the four nimble jets streak in. A baited moment comes as the pilots wait for their avionics to lock onto the exotic hull so they can launch their missiles, dodging and weaving through the return fire. >Command, thiss is Voodoo-4, I've taken a hit to my right engine... I can't maintain the bubble!< "Pull out 4... Return to base, repeat, RTB." >Copy command.<

    The remaining three jets peel out in a tri-point formation, angle back in and loose off a volley of high impact 'Air Torpedes'. They don't detonate in proximity, but punch through the outer hull, detonating inside. Something else explodes a moment later, ripping off a good portion of the right nacelle, and the craft begins to lose altitude rapidly. >Target down, Central... send in the ground pounders.< "Good Job Voodoo flight, RTB. Strike One, report to launch bay. Repeat, Strike One to Launch Bay."

Elise Leroy (62) has posed:
    TIME: 0440, 2 miles east of the Great Pyramids.

    The Skyranger lumbers through the sky, doing a close pass of the crash site before picking a location far enough away so they aren't swarmed right away, but close enough that they won't be there long enough for the sun to rise and the heat to climb with it.

    The dropship lands on some hard packed sand bank, and drops the hatch, emitting Elise, and her squad, along with anyone that chose to come with the team rather than their own transport. "Bradford, we're on the ground, task RecSat Delta over here... I want to know what I'm facing." says Elise as she adjusts the Bolt Rifle Karian gave her. Viper is pouting a little, she had to leave Diplomacy behind and take one of these new fangled Laser Rifles to 'help calibrate'. The others, apart from the Heavy and the MEC, also sport the glowing red and white weapons, checking them over while waiting for the order. "Strike One, spread out and advance, Viper, try to keep yourself in check this time... no heroics."

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     There is a dour figure in the Skyranger, sharing it with the squaddies. His skin is a pallid white in no way mistakable for human, his eyes a kind of yellow perfect for glares and glowering. In terms of equipment he's a far cry from the X-COM standard, seeing as how most of it seems to be hidden beneath his black synthleather trenchcoat, which will surely not come back to bite him in the ass when the sun starts to rise. Attire-wise, he looks like some kind of Aztec thought-police--the authoritarian standards of jackboots and trenchcoats are met, but there are also heavy silver earrings, and, of all things, eyeliner to account for.

     "I will provide fire support and engage enemy armor if it arises."

Rory White (673) has posed:
    One of the Elite assistants from the Multiverse has joined up again! Rory White. Normally a scientist, but apparently not afraid to get her hands dirty in the field, once again enters the fray!

    She hops out of the Skyranger just after the strike team disembarks, accompanied by a small assortment of... well, if they weren't already vetted, they might get shot - her gaggle of tiny aerial robots strongly resemble actual UFOs, except they're the size of large frisbees.

    Several of these fly about to establish an aerial view, pelting the area with active sensors and passively scanning using every part of the electromagnetic spectrum - and other things, like sound waves.

    But Rory herself has given up her lab coat in favor of a strange skintight suit that seems to lack seams and joining locations, as if it were somehow manufactured in almost one piece... or doesn't need to be welded, bolted, or anything else. It does have muscular bulges however and a fibrous exterior - it glimmers weirdly and overall it's just kind of eerie, but it's COVERED in mount points for several fantastic-looking weapons. A few are XCOM standards, but some are of clear Argonaut design.

    How good she is with them is up to debate, but simply having them might be useful to other people...

    "Setting up tactical surveillance... at least it didn't crash INTO the Pyramids!"

Rosamarie Alba (438) has posed:
    Aliens and UFOs attacking Earth for some unknown purpose. Well okay, so it's not exactly like Rosa's own world's situation. In her world the Aliens communicate and they sail, not fly. Or at least travel by sea rather than through the air. And even if they do announce their intentions, it's not like there's any point in negotiating. 'You are worthless scum, and we are here to destroy you all' really only leaves one possible reply. 'No, U.'

    It's good to help an ally though. And this X-COM operation is not dissimilar to her own combat style even if it's on land. "Are you looking to contain the UFO or recover it?" she asks. Probably recover. She knows just how bad her own High Command would salivate over a potential Elvari ship recovery. Still, no such briefing seemed to be forthcoming, so she figures it best to ask. Particularly since she's not sure how considerate her fellow responders might be.

    Rosamarie, dressed in simple jeans and a windbreaker fully zipped, doesn't look like much of a fighter. No weapons, and it's not likely that windbreaker's concealing anything of TOO big a caliber. Still, she nods at Bitter Medicine. "Mid-range firepower, and armor-piercing explosives if needed." she indicates, despite there being no sign of either on her person. She's still in the Skyranger however, not yet deployed for combat.

Jonothon Starsmore (27) has posed:
At least the heat wouldn't bother Jono. But driving through sand on a motorcycle is a pain in the butt. There's going to be so much sand in the filter that he'd probably have to replace most of the engine after this. Ah well, motorcycles can be fixed. This is an opportunity. Besides who knew what would be in that UFO?

So it won't be too long before Jono's motorcycle is seen approaching the site. How does he always manage to be close by when there's a situation like this? Anybody's guess, really. But he's there as the dropship lands and disgorges its occupants. The motorcycle gets him to the site at least. And he heads to where people are gathering. "Where d'yer need me?" he asks. He's pretty sure XCOM knows whathe's good at. Namely shooting things with psychokinetic not-fire.

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     As per the contract with the Extraterrestrial Combat Unit, Mortimer would take great pains to make sure he was not seen infiltrating human territory. It would be rude to make difficult the lives of your employers by being an 'alien' and being 'seen' by a bunch of monosapients who are ignorant of such things. But, Mortimer would not wear any sort of armor or extra clothes- he'd just put his flaming head out and smear some sort of mud-like stuff over the vents across his back where the gases came out, and some more around his eyes. And then he'd sharpen his knife, waiting for the transport to land.

     Once it finally landed, he'd be among the first to hop out of the craft. "Here lads, let me go first. I'll go ahead on an' scout. I can do it safer'n you can in that armor.." A tiny radio communicator shoved into his ear, he'd flatten those ears to the sides of his skull and proceed.. Digging into the sand? He's digging awfully fast- hell, he's flat out /gone/. Ancient pokemon techniques long since mastered- and a bit of inherent supernatural trickery, perhaps- let him burrow with surprising speed just under the surface of the sands, and he starts 'swimming' toward the smell of flames.. It'd almost seem a silly trick, if it weren't for the fact that he couldn't be seen at all.

     "Testin'." Comes over the radio. He must not be /too/ deep if he can talk at all.

Crys Gattz has posed:
Crys Gattz says "I'm on point got it? I can take more than any of you."

She notes even to any Mecs who might be on board.

"I'll draw fire and flush them out you cut them down like the spawn of the Falz they are."

Those who have connection to the Union would find there were very old reports nearly a decade old something about a Dark Falz. Either ways he's moving to get out, she's clad in a version of her outfit that's in XCOM colours and bearing the right marking.s Rory is new to her she looks to the girl for a moment.

"Ah a CAST I see, my sister's one."

She notes before she falls in and while Crys isn't cyber agumented she does have some external stuff Rory could jack into. She moves out with a DB saber in one hand and a ruby bullet energy pistol in the other. Also yes she's at fault why XCOM has lady hot pants in the quarter master.

Ark Line (687) has posed:
Lacking a mercenary contract through the Syndicate and being the exact opposite of a Union Elite, Ark was really just in the neighborhood when the neighborhood went wholly to crap.

In truth, he and his Servant had heard about XCOM and the alien incursion and decided to check it out. After all, they're pro-human in a big way, and, more than that, both want to see what they've got for different reasons. For Caster, it was his desire to interact with some non-Confederate (read: slightly less conceited and potentially-insane) scientists. For Ark, it was his desire to fight /real-live aliens/. There's nothing like that on his world, after all. It'll be good experience!

Caster is currently back in XCOM HQ, spending some time with the science and engineering teams and having an oddly /motivational/ effect on them. Ark on the other hand is riding with Strike One, the 'rookie' who seems self-assured enough to decline further armor or armaments to what he brought (excepting a medkit, anyway). He smiles most of the way down, except when he's staring at Mortimer with murder in his eyes. It's a little eerie.

Ark comes down the ramp with the rest of the team. He's in uniform steel grey, an odd, sleek-looking pistol held comfortably in both hands. He sweeps the LZ with amber-colored eyes, wide and alert, keeping near the middle of the group. "Not much cover for the approach," he remarks in a low voice. "Bad place to splash a flyer."

Elise Leroy (62) has posed:
    Elise looks around at the group, big group, good, they'll need the firepower and the effect that /more targets/ has on enemy firepower. That's when a sound that sets the entire XCOM team on edge rings out. >GYYYYAAOOOORRRRRUUUURRRHHH!< "Shit. BUGS!" shouts Viper, as she scans the horizon for the distinctive four-legged silhouette.

    "Vahlen thinks this is one of the ships they use during Abduction events." explains Elise to Rosa and the others. "But looks like this one's got those damn bugs on it..." she shifts her position, and sights down the scope on the Bolt rifle. Mort would get sight of them first, most likely. Four of the things skittering across the sand at a rapid pace, approaching the dropship. Following are a pair of floating 'discs' flanked by a pair of little tri-arm 'drones' and a quintet of green armoured Mutons, with a red armoured Berzerker.

    The smoking, flame-wreathed wreck lay in a crash furrow further beyond, multiple beings scampering across the hull, either trying to repair, or setting demolition charges to destroy the craft.

Crys Gattz has posed:
Crys Gattz hears the word bugs and even as harderned as she is? There's a sense of horror here, and she changes her load out, the sword vanishes in a burst of lght a huljking robotic clar gaunlet takes it' place it goes up into a shoulder guard to support it's massive bulk, the claws are huge and metal, they are clearl made to cut organics into bloody gibs. She nows moves in racing in ahead of the other sinten tot meet the bugs in melee and Crys oddly yells something in some lanuage that's nearly dead. However thanks to the multiverse it can be understood.

<<To the Profound darkess with you all!>>

With that she'll be shooting with her energy pistol as she closes.

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     One of the Elites present has a disc of his own. It's made of a bluish black steel, and with a sinister /snik-snikt/ reveals a series of teeth very similar to a sawblade. The Exalt flings his gyroscopic chakram towards the cyberdiscs in the distance, and it lets out an almost human wail as it flies through the air. The device banks and corrects its course, homing in on one of the mechanical assailants.

Rory White (673) has posed:
    "Pardon me?" A glance over to Crys shows that Rory is just really confused with what the other person just said, but she doesn't have too much time to question.

    Although not biological and never once having any ancestry that was once hunted, the HORRIBLE ROARING NOISE still gives the AGI the heebiejeebies. Rory jitters and fidgets in place, eyes frantically glancing about to seek cover. But she ends up not using any of it. Instead... despite her small frame she unholsters a hefty-looking weapon with a hell of a barrel and a rotating ammo drum of some kind...

    PCHOOOOO!!

    From the thing... MISSILES fly. Very small missiles. Elise might regard them as similar to bolter rounds - they are bullet-sized, but rocket-propelled... no, that's not quite true either. They're miniature SCRAMJET missiles, fired from a RAILGUN barrel.

    And they're guided, freakishly enough.

    "Those things are disgusting!"

Ark Line (687) has posed:
Ark hasn't seen anything like this before. He has, however, seen some pretty whack shit back in his homeworld (to use the technical term). It doesn't shock or stun him; it just gets his blood pumping, and puts that smile back on his face.

"Woah," he breathes. "Real aliens. Real, live aliens!" He raises his pistol and sprints forward, moving astoundingly deftly across the sand. He doesn't have any problems keeping his footing. Ark goes about a dozen steps before he drops prone, stretched out in the sand along the edge of the depression the alien craft assuredly made on impact. He aims down, keeping most of his body in cover.

The pistol makes a SNAP-CRACK, the sharp sounds blending together. The compact, handheld railgun sends fire downrange, with evenly-spaced shots and expertly-aimed rounds. Ark isn't aiming for the bugs, though; he's aiming for the smaller flying drones. If /he/ were designing flying killbots, he would send smaller spotters for backup.

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     One must wonder, can these alien monstrosities feel fear? Can a Chryssalid comprehend that an event is coming, or perhaps even occurring, that could threaten their lives? And if so, can they have a flight or fight instinct that perhaps, makes them comprehend what fear even is? Obviously they have some degree of survival instinct, but it is a good question nonetheless to wonder if they can truly understand what it means to be /afraid/. Mortimer is going to ask and, with any luck, answer that question tonight on the cold dunes of the Western Desert, under the eyes of Abu al-Haul, the Father of Dread. (the Sphinx to the rest of you).

     A slight spout of sand as Mortimer blows piping hot air out from under his hiding spot, not far in front of where one of the Chyrssalids is charging for the humans. Logic dictates that reflex actions should make it pause, but even if it doesn't, a pair of big strong hands leap out of the cloud of sand and dust to grab it by the forelegs. A horrid, grating laugh is heard- perhaps not over the screeching din of the unfortunate Chryssalid, which is no doubt throwing a hell of a fit- as the lumbering insectoid beast is dragged into a pit, like a hapless bug caught in an antlion's trap. Perhaps fortunately for the alien murderbeast, it will not be eaten. It will, however, be hugged. By someone whose external temperature is currently over four hundred degrees celcius.

     And he's got a /knife/ too.

     Hopefully such a sight will cause alarm for the aliens and cause some panic in their ranks, thus opening them up for further assault by the XCOMs.

Rosamarie Alba (438) has posed:
    Rosamarie's transformation, once the team hits the ground, is quick. There's little sense in wasting power by transforming too soon, but there's less sense in remaining human and vulnerable on the actual battlefield. "Albacore." she whispers, surrounding herself with a field of shimmering deep-space navy. When the field clears a few seconds later, the girl is clad in a techno-armor of rubberized black and dull matte-grey metal; a large rifle and machine gun slung across her back, the barrels poking up over each of her shoulder pauldrons.

    Rosamarie doesn't immediately set a firearm however. She takes quick stock of the tactical situation. Bugs, but there are three or four of the group already opening fire on them. In some cases literally. Bugs are nasty, sure. They're no evil space nazi elves or anything, but she wouldn't want one touching her. So no, no sense aiming the guns on the Chryssalids. Those hovering discs look dangerous though. And slow, and possibly heavily armored. JUST the sort of thing Albacore loves to fight.

    <Periscope reports four enemy destroyers. Two heavy cruisers, four cruisers.> the words ring out in Rosa's mind. Just data, background, so Albacore can translate the sights into familiar tactical information. <Load all torpedo tubes.> comes the reply. Wordlessly, Rosa slips her hands to her belt, pulling a pair of metal tube gauntlets off of where a gunslinger would keep a pair of pistols. She brings the gauntlets up, sighting. "Stay back from the discs." she warns, this time aloud.

    <Target cruiser designated Sierra-1. Plot course and fire tubes one and two.> comes the voice of the 'captain' within her head. Keeping the voice in the background, she takes a careful breath and slowly releases it. Yamato taught her to shoot. Well, war taught her to shoot, but Yamato helped improve her abilities, particularly at range. She releases two small, tight, focussed bursts of magic in rapid succession. Anyone who can sense it might well be impressed by just how focussed. Albacore isn't about power; Albacore is about putting maximum power in a tightly focussed area. Ripples of power shoots out. Not fast like a bullet. Much faster than a thrown ball though, fast enough that it would be tough to dodge in a firefight, even IF a target were to see it coming. The concentrated bolts of magic ripple, shimmer, go dark. It's like wisps of smoke travelling from her outstretched arm towards one of the cyberdiscs, or like trying to see a shark travelling beneath the waves from above.

    The bolts of power may be tiny and hard to see, but they're powerful. Magical piercing blasts concentrated on a single point, crafted to mimic the armor-cracking power of a warship's torpedo.

Elise Leroy (62) has posed:
    Doctor Vahlen chimes in over the local radio. "If you can, secure the craft for recovery. Destroying valuable artefacts is counter productive." Bradford chimes in a moment later. "If the situation becomes untennable, I've got Angel Flight in the area ready to glass the site. Only on your order."

    Elise grunts an affirmative as she takes a knee... good the Chryssalids are getting torn apart, and one Cyberdisc meets a homing armour piercing disc that slams it into the ground, wailing in a high pitched, inhuman 'voice'. The armour doesn't buckle though, but the impact has done something to the internals, it's leaking some kind of blue 'goo smoke' from some seams in the outer hull. It rights itself, as one of the drones directs a glowing field onto it, stemming the 'bleeding' and allowing it t transform to Assault Mode and fire its main cannons back at Bitter, streaks of orange light peppering his position.

    Alba's assault nails the other Disc head on, and the outer hull doesn't stop the blast, a massive cloud of debris erupting as not only those 'torpedoes', but whatever powers the mechanoid also explodes, glassing a 15 foot radius, and annihilating the two accompanying drones.

    Crys rips one Chryssalid in two with that giant claw, Mort cooks another one in moments as he hugs it, the thing flailing around until its insides solidify and it croaks a death rattle... it was trying to bite and claw at Mort the entire time... seems they don't feel fear.

    Elise's team take cover near to Ark, kneeling or going prone to open up their own kill zone. The Heavy opens fire on the Mutons as they come into range, making them scatter, while the supports and assault lance forth with red laser fire, slicing glass scars into the desert sand and scoring scorch marks on some of the thick Muton armour. Elise fires a bolt, the resonant report and the muzzle flash like an exploding freight train during a super nova in the darkness. The streaking bolt trail slams into a Muton's chest, moments before the charge detonates, spraying blood across the dunes.

    The MEC scoffed at Crys' warning, and charged right in after her, priming her Kinetic Strike module to provide a Rocket Propelled NO to the face of the Chryssalid bearing down on the augmented girl. The strike dazes and sends the thing flying, right into Rory's rocklette swarm.

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     Clouds of sand erupt around the Exalt as his mechanical foe returns fire. His Sixth Dexterity Augmentation kicks in, accounting for the projectiles as best it can--Bitter weaves through them with machinelike precision, taking a strategic hit on the shoulder from one to avoid being slammed in his chest by another. "The drones repair the discs," he says over the local radio frequency.

     Voidbane, his gyroscopic chakram, dings off of the cyberdisc and navigates its way back to the Alchemical's waiting hand... how does he catch that thing without losing a finger, anyway? "Engaging at close range," he says before activating his Plasma Thruster Array and rocketing towards the impromptu alien defense squad. Rather than throwing the chakram again, he holds it at chest level, ready to use it to deflect projectiles if need be. A dark, somehow luminescent substance can be seen leaking from his shoulder.

Rory White (673) has posed:
    The rounds Rory's firing are terrifically explosive armor-piercing nightmares sure to ruin any Chryssalid or Cyberdisc's day. Trouble is she only has so many of them and once the Chryssallid take a few blows.

    That's when she breaks into a full-fledged charge, using her various eyes in the sky and mental acceleration to keep an eye on her surroundings. Although not terribly skilled in a fight, being a good deal faster than a huan and able to react as if the world were moving at a quarter of the speed means she's employin qite the pathfinding method and calculated - if clumsy - leaps over obstacles. Whatever the battlesuit is.... it's physically augmenting her AND carrying her towards the wreckage!

    She swaps the Micromissile launcher out in favor of a laser rifle upon reaching cover, trying to take down aliens around the ship...

Crys Gattz has posed:
Crys Gattz does not even stop at this point, she moves to see the bugs comming in andf thinks there's more of them coming in. She's now turns to see if any of them remain as she now goes after, however the mec took things the wrong way. Crys knows she's short lived that the squaddies have decades of life poential on her. She doesn't want them to die, if she has to fine. She's on a short fuse as it is, so she contiunes to throw her self into the thick of the enemy with out any regard for herself.. This might get Rory wondering about the pointy eared woman.

She's going after the lst bug, of all the aliens here? Making sure those nightmares are dead? Is the most important part. Again she goes with the claw trying to grab the things's head. She'll then also attempt to set it on fire.

"FOIE!"

Rosamarie Alba (438) has posed:
    Rosa curses, or she WOULD curse if she weren't brought up differently. Certainly the voices in her head would be cursing... like a sailor, so to speak. "Drones are tender units, aye." she responds to Bitter Medicine, her voice cool, almost metallic. She can't use torpedos now, not with friendlies in the immediate waters. Still, she's got flexibility. Holstering her left gauntlet, she reaches up to pull the machine gun into position, resting the stock over her shoulder and sighting along the barrel. <Fleet tenders in sights. Firing.>

    The gun opens up, popping off a rapid-fire burst of shots including tracers. Not a machine gun then, so much as an anti-aircraft gun. Lousy when it comes to hardened targets, but a reasonable weapon at closer ranges against unarmored objects. Against light armor the deck gun is weaker, but still not completely useless. She rakes tracer fire around and through the drones, trying to neutralize them. The cyberdisc will be unopposed, for now, but she can't fire torpedos at it and her lighter weapons would probably just bounce against its heavy armor.

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Fortunately for Mortimer, sand still protects. As the Chryssalid flails it brings the sand down upon it, making it much easier for him to cling to it and turn its insides into a molten lump of goop, and largely impossible for it to stab and bite at him. What is there to bite and stab at, but more sand? Once it has ceased its flailings, he releases it and starts 'swimming' away again. Moments after this he bursts out of the sand, head bursting into a bright inferno that lights up the darkness, and an oddly leonine roar that echoes across the dunes. The Mutons have busied themselves with the XCOM people and the others, as have the flying disc machines- but one of them has not yet entered battle. It is like Mortimer. It does not use firearms, it is born for battle in close quarters.

     "COME, ALIEN! SHOW ME WHAT PASSES FOR FURY AMONGST YOUR MISBEGOTTON KIND!" A foot and a half of laser-cut, diamond-dusted, high-grade stainless steel suddenly appears in his left hand, glinting in the flames. The beast should understand the challenge being roared out to it, unless they're somehow incapable of being affected by the Translation Effect. His face is one that has grown wild, a twisted grin that speaks to the bloodlust of battle. So familiar, always calling, so rarely indulged. The Berserker will not be given much time to make its decision to engage Mortimer before he charges it, and though he's nowhere near as physically strong as a Muton.. Well, he's got plenty of tricks up his pant legs for fighting things far meatier than he is.

Ark Line (687) has posed:
Ark has zero desire to close to melee. He's content using his absurdly high-power pistol from here. He syncs his fire with the XCOM team's, alternating moments of popping out of cover to take shots at the alien forces. He has quite clearly worked within a unit like this before.

Securing the ship, though... what if they blow it from the inside? That's going to rob him of a chance to get a good look at an alien spacecraft, even if it's been blasted to mostly-big bits already. He's not going to take that chance. Ark peeks out of cover, watching the other combatants --

-- and then vaults over the dune during a momentary lull in the firing. The young Ether Liner hits the steep side boot-first, skidding down the side of the depression in a controlled fall. He keeps his pistol down and ahead of him, taking a few wild shots to keep any Mutons that might get a bright idea in cover -- and shooting at the guy directly ahead of Mortimer, getting a little /too/ close for comfort -- while his other hand retrieves the bone weapon he'd kept in reserve until now.

"Correct Future," Ark says. The bone weapon glows faintly amber, the notches and emblems turning luminescent. His eyes seem to match the glow. "Keep me fire-free."

The moment Ark hits nearly level ground, he breaks into a sprint. He crosses the sand, ignoring enemy fire, and starts to catch up with Rory's battlesuit. Enemy gunfire seems to curve around him the moment it comes near him, shots going /just/ wide enough.

"You're not going in without me," Ark calls. He's grinning like a kid in a candy store, or a maniac rushing an alien spacecraft. Not much difference, all in all.

Elise Leroy (62) has posed:
    The Berzerker roars back at Mortimer in return. It's wordless, but the challenge is as obvious as painting a big bullseye on the side of something. It settles its stance, and brings the punch blades on its right gauntlet around to parry that knife, bellowing in defiance and rage. The duel is an epic of flame, rage and the clash of steel, one to be told to the younglings for centuries to come.

    Rory's advance goes by unnoticed by the vanguard force, and the rapid nature of her strikes mean that many of the Sectoids don't realize something's killing them until most of them are already dead, laser holes blasted through their skulls. The lower grade laser seems to be absorbed by the thick armour of the craft's hull, not even leaving a heated patch.

    Crys has backup from the MEC again, as she grabs it, the MEC trooper rears back with the KSM once more, roaring a battlecry as the rockets kick in, and she smashes the thing in half. "Don't underestimate a Valkyrie." comes the synthesized voice, as she wipes gore off her faceplate and visor. "One Actual, One Five. Bugs are toast. I'll move up with Crys and attempt infiltration of the ship."

    Elise calls an affirmative, as she racks another Bolt into place, lining up and firing into a patch of cover the Mutons are using, exposing them for the rest of the squad, Bitter, Ark or whoever else wants to clean up.

    Ark's charge is largely unmolested, thanks to the work of the others, the Mutons do fire a few pot shots, and theres some fire coming from tall 'humans' in business suits standing on the upper balcony.

    Rosa's AA fire is more than enough to smash those Drones apart, they're not built for combat, and so their hulls aren't very thick. Whatever powers them detonates and their wreckage falls lifelessly to the ground, allowing Bitter Medicine to close with the remaining Cyberdisc, though it isn't going down without a fight, turning to track him on approach, and then doing a 'hedgehog curl' and tossing a bleeping device into his path!

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mortimer's ears flick a bit, ducking his body down almost by reflex at the sound of Ark's sidearm sending rounds over his head- so close that he can feel the distortions they cause in the air pressure, forcing him to pin his ears back to avoid suffering hearing damage. But sidearms are unlikely to slow down a colossal bag of hit points like a Muton Berserker- at least for long- unless it's empowered with some ridiculously powerful magic, and so Mortimer is forced to go back up onto his feet and dig his boots into the sand as the scarlet-armored monster bears down on him. His hands punch upwards into its own, catching its fists in a brief deadlock. As the Berserker exerts more of its colossal strength, the pokemorph's own body starts trying to counter. Muscles bulge to almost two and a half times their own size across his whole body, almost cartoonishly- adrenaline and other chemicals being produced in such monstrous qualities as to nearly alter his shape. The two stare murderously into each others eyes, saliva dripping from toothy, roaring maws, each trying to force the other to give.

     But even with the Strength technique, Mort's no match for the Berserker, and his body slowly starts to buckle. A flash of memory. His first Master's words. *FLASHBACK* A wizened old human, standing over his beaten body. "When the storm winds rage, the willow tree bends with them, and so does not break." Epic Beardstroke. *END FLASHBACK*. Mortimer's muscles suddenly cease their obscene bulging and he lets the Berserker 'win', dropping his weight off his feet and falling backwards. The beast falls so hard forward from its own momentum that the two roll down one of the dunes, shrieking bloody murder at each other in a guttural rage the whole way down, until they stop- with Mortimer half-laying on top, sucking in air... And expelling an almost blue-hot gout of flames right into the Berserker's ugly, twisted face.

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     On his home world of Autochthonia, 'beepbeepbeep' means 'I'm about to explode.' Anyone who lives on the body of the Machine God knows that beeping devices need mechanics or bomb squads--Bitter Medicine is neither one of those things. In layman's terms, he is a thug, and his response to having what he presumes is a grenade thrown in his face is quite thuglike. The Alchemical turns hard into a barrel roll, watching the device fly just past his face. With all the dexterity his Exalted body can muster, he snaps an arm out and chucks it into the distance. "Rearing Crane Release!" The grenade hovers several feet in the air, in clear defiance of gravity. Readying Voidbane, Bitter Medicine rears his arm back and prepares to strike!

Crys Gattz has posed:
Crys Gattz is now just helping to rip the last bug to bits in tamdem with te mech troopers.

"I stand corrected."

Is crys's reply as she now starts looking for remaining aliens to hunt down. She also takes a moment to drop a buff on her allies which should make them a bit more durable for the next little bit. Yes Crys can buff who'd have thunk.

Rosamarie Alba (438) has posed:
    Having cleaned up the drones, Rosamarie begins to run forward. She's not slowed down since she hasn't activated her dive mode, remaining protected solely by virtue of distance. By virtue of others being more in-the-face threats. That and her Maiden armor; paper-thin compared to the armor of any surface warship Maiden in the fleet.

    "Stick together!" Rosamarie calls out on the local tactical channel. Then again, explosives. "Er... okay no. But don't get so far ahead we can't support each other!" she tries again. She's not good at tactics, since she so-often fights alone. Common sense however, that's something she's got. Meanwhile she makes a dash, trying to remain in relative cover, taking shots at the suddenly-exposed mutons with her tracer-enhanced gun. Not well-aimed fire by any means, but perhaps enough to hurt the suddenly-exposed and vulnerable alien infantry. Denied cover, they're probably not too hard to hit. Still, her main goal is to get close, not to kill. That's why she's still using the autocannon, rather than staying back and switching to the more-accurate deck gun.

Rory White (673) has posed:
    Down go the Sectoids! Rory would breath a sigh of relief, but she doesn't breathe. The lighter laser weapon is much easier for her to handle and calculate firing solutions for, and apparently she was right - it does little damage to the hull - after all, that hull was designed to withstand atmospheric re-entry! No way would a little laser hurt it too easily.

    "If they just had some means of contacting them... hopefully their computer systems at least partially survived that crash!"

    For now, however, she summons one of her Saucer drones. It vvvvvvwwwwhzips down and then attempts to recon the crash MUCH closer, even skirting inside after a brief external check. She's looking for saboteurs trying to destroy the catch first and foremost!

Ark Line (687) has posed:
Ark heartlessly uses Rory as a shield against incoming fire that CORRECT FUTURE does not instantly divert. The amber glow gradually diminishes, and when he finds actual cover, he dives into it rather than risk his allocated Grain fading away. There's a limit to the charge he put in. He doesn't want to blow it all on reckless charging.

"Exposed shooters," Ark remarks. He leans out from behind a chunk of wrecked ship and swings his gun in line, firing three shots up at the Thin Men taking potshots at him. He aims at a second one, murmuring, "Correct Future," again, and this time, the amber glow grows to his rail-pistol. He fires once.

The bullet curves around cover, right between it's eyes.

He ducks back behind the wreckage. Ark reloads, humming to himself seemingly merrily. Caster doesn't know what he's missing.

Elise Leroy (62) has posed:
    The Berzerker begins to struggle again as it lays pinned beneath the flaming badger... until its helmet is subjected to a bunsen burner right to the faceplate. It roars and attempts to flail at the badger now pinning it, at the disadvantage now it hasn't got leverage.

    The second Cyberdisc turns to fire on the others as they pass, but Bitter nails it somehow, making the thing explode violently.

    The remaining Mutons go down under sustained fire, purple blood spraying from bullet wounds, and nasty cauterized stink rising from laser impacts.

    Rosa's advance and fire from her deck gun get the Thin Men to scatter, hissing at the Fleet Maiden after a couple take autocannon shells to the chest, exploding into noxious clouds of poison.

    Rory's drone would find two Outsiders working in the command bridge, and a small number of Sectoids apparently setting up small plasma charges around the remaining power core and in the primary hold, where several stasis pods and some strange metallic 'silos' are being stored.

    Ark's fire helps to rout the remaining Thin Men, the one he scores with his bullet homing exploding like the others into a noxious cloud.

Rory White (673) has posed:
    And with this situation, Rory realizes she doesn't have much choice. If she's going to recover anything in there intact... she'll need to do something INCREDIBLY risky. either take ALL of them down or... or get NOTHING out of this.

    And she might end up blown to bits in the process and forced to resleeve and repair her Morph... NOT a fun prospect. But...

    "The chance of success isn't zero... I'll try."

    And from there, her awareness splits. Multiple threads of thought engage, taking control of different parts of her Morph and Suit's various augmentations and integrated weapons. Two threads on the superconductive tazers, one handling spotting, and a third controlling the left arm with a laser pistol while her main thought process focuses on the Sectoids.

    She barges in, doing her absolute BEST impression of a warcry - it comes out as a gibberish, inhuman shpiel of angry half-digital noises - and goes to work.

    A single leap takes her through the air with a straightforward manuever. She misjudges it and ALMOST bumps her head on the ceiling... but at the same time...

    Two tiny explosive charges detonate, sending tazer tips hooked via superconductive wire from Rory's right arm towards the Outsiders. microjets and nanite control surfaces guide them for the Outsider's center of 'mass' as it were and send ludicrous amounts of raw electricity down the wires!

    At the same time, her other hand moves literally with a mind of its own, spending all the needed attention to aim and fire the laser pistol several times at the Sectoids, HOPEFULLY without hitting the plasma charges!

    Will it work?

    And will she survive...?

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     The enraged Berserker pretty well easily throws Mortimer off, since there's no more momentum for the damn fire-mammal to use, and Mortimer is briefly seen flying through the air, not so gracefully hitting the sand with a resounding *WHUMP*. But he's back on his feet right fast, and so is the Muton- who, just as Mortimer had hoped he would, is busy ripping his helmet off because it's starting to melt and clog his.. ..Breathing.. Apparatus. Mortimer takes a moment's time to blink at that. This was not anticipated and would make his efforts more difficult. But that was okay.. That was okay. He had an idea nonetheless..

     The beastly Muton throws its worthless helmet to the side, roaring from behind the mask, trying to intimidate Mortimer. But it doesn't work, Mortimer just hisses out. Saliva so hot that it begins melting the sand drips from his toothy maw, fangs bared in a clear counter challenge. The Muton knows not to charge again. It is not perhaps the brightest of creatures, but it does understand well the dangers of close combat. Thus, the two begin to circle each other.. Occasionally growling, hissing, and otherwise making near-feral gestures of aggression. The Muton's armor can protect it but only so much- the strange fire-mammal can burn hot and could kill it if it decides to start breathing more flames. And Mortimer knows that it is suicide to immediately rush into its arms where it can grab and crush the life out of him. He is strong, but not as strong as that thing. He slowly drops his knife into the sand. The blade can cut flesh, but not armor. Armor is what he must work around..

     Out of the way of the main battle from their earlier tumble, the two may focus solely on each other. Gauging strengths, trying to guess weaknesses, predict what the other will do. In this, Mortimer has an advantage. He knows his enemy is no Pokemon and it's unlikely to rely on anything more than its brute strength. It can charge quickly but is nowhere near as dextrous as he is. The Muton on the other hand, has next to zero idea of what Mortimer can do. It knows he can briefly become incredibly strong and breathe flames, and the fire-mammal is very agile, but nothing more. The others are fighting quite hard up the dune. If the aliens win, then Mortimer will be at the disadvantage. But the aliens are losing ground fast, and the Berserker knows it. It's likely that the XCOMs will come over that dune and help the fire-mammal. Choices few. Do or die. No time left to debate.

     The alien begins lumbering at Mortimer as hard and fast as it can, putting all the strength its legs can muster into closing the distance. If it can just get its arms around Mortimer- even a partial grip- it will have him. Knowing that full well, Mort ducks down low and takes a few hops backward, forcing the beast to lumber forward even farther in an attempt to grasp at him. It does not succeed, and for its trouble gets to watch as the old pokemorph throws himself onto one hand sideways and swings both of his booted feet around to slam the Muton right across its masked kisser. The force isn't enough to make throw it back, but it does stumble a bit as its head tries to go one way and its body another. Capitalizing on the momentary lack of equilibrium, Mortimer jumps up onto the Muton's shoulders and starts using the steel-toed parts of his boots to literally dance on its skull. Were it not for the awkwardness of such a position it'd almost look like a Riverdance on someone's head. (C)

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     But Muton bones are hard, and Mortimer's kicks and dancing is an annoyance more than a potential lethality, allowing the Muton to grab him by the leg and throw him face first into the sand. And it's smart enough not to let go but drag him across the ground in a wide circle before slamming him into the dunes again. It laughs an ugly, gutteral laugh, and brings Mortimer up to start crushing him with its big, strong arms. A mistake, because while being smashed around Mortimer has grabbed a handful of sand, and he throws it straight into the monster's eyes, causing it to scream in a rage and throw its hands up to its face to try and brush the sand off in an enraged frenzy. A dirty trick, perhaps, but now Mortimer has enough time to stare through punch-drunk eyes at the Berserker and wrap his hands around its throat. Does he intend to /choke/ it? Well.. Sort of.

     Obviously needing to /breathe/, Mortimer is cutting off its oxygen supply.. By freezing its throat. Solid chunks of ice start rapidly forming around his hands around the Muton's throat, fusing them to it. Even with a fancy breathing apparatus, there's no stopping the cold from constricting tissues, and without the ability to breathe.. Perhaps realizing what Mortimer is up to, the Berserker's arms suddenly fly around the pokemorph in a murderous embrace, trying to crush the life out of him. Again they stare each other in the eye, screaming their unbridled hatred at each other..

     But the Muton has more need for breathable atmosphere than Mortimer does. And he's had less of it to breathe. The grip starts to shake, slowly loosening as whatever air mixture the creature needs to breathe steadily fades. Even the most primitive brain will not do much if there's no atmo-laden blood getting to it, and after several moments the beast starts to tip backwards, blood-shot eyes slowly closing..

     A few moments later, Mortimer's ragged voice comes on over the local radio band. "Hey.. Hey Captain. ...Got a.. Got a /present/ fer yah.. Ought to be worth a /bonus/, I'll.. I'll bet.. Phew.."

Rosamarie Alba (438) has posed:
    As the group approaches the final chambers of the whaleship, Rosamarie hurries to pull even. She still hasn't needed to dive, so her speed is enough to let her catch up in time to storm the command bridge. She waits however, standing in the open before the doorway, providing herself a maximum field of view.

    <Rig for dive. Five degrees down-bubble. Make for periscope depth.> rings out the voice in her mind, that of the Captain. No sound escapes her, but those around her will see the result. She shimmers, fades. She doesn't turn invisible, but she's transparent and somewhat hard to see, her magic taking her mostly below the surface of the normal three dimensions, out of phase and out of most harm's way.

    Rosa's armed herself with the rifle for this fight. The long-barreled deck gun. Not knowing what to expect within the ship, she opts for the most precise weapon, the one that has a chance of handling armor. It's a slightly slower weapon, but her defense should give her the time to take the shot. She sights, waiting for what may happen, before opening fire with her long gun. It's not that different from a laser sniper rifle really. It fires a nonphysical bullet of magic, effective against most targets if not quite so deadly as her torpedos. The magic bullets are fast, accurate, deadly. They don't burn through their targets, doing their damage through impact, but otherwise are rather similar. She takes her shots on whatever might survive the initial assault, preferably before the aliens can retaliate.

Crys Gattz has posed:
Crys Gattz is able to bring down that last bug and now sees the remaining aliens are there she contiunes now shifting to support this time using a ability called Shifta, her allies would gain an red aura and hit a hell of a lot harder. It might be a bit too late, but hey it should do some good right? There's still a few enemies left up after all.

Elise Leroy (62) has posed:
    "Copy that Tanuki, we'll tag it for live capture teams." notes Elise, as she stands... the Elites kinda left the strike team in the dust, so they're going around collecting weapon fragments and moving to support Mort. The Supports come up and tend to his wounds, applying Medikits with their usual cheerful snark.

    Rory's plan works... for the most part. One dart misfires and strikes one of the computer terminals, frying the circuits within and rendering it useless, the other slams into the 'crystal' at the center of the Outsider's shell, and makes the entire thing jerkspasm before returning to crystal form... apparently stunned? The remaining Outsider turns quickly, but then takes that magical bullet to the crystal, shattering it and dispersing the creature entirely.

    Sectoids go down to various means, whether it be Ark's bullets, Rory's plan or Rosa doing her submarine thing. The aura from Crys just makes this process easier. The sectoids didn't even get to finish priming their <span class=" bold_fg_c bg_n ++ harges!

    chc">>Strike Team, Elite Support, this is Central. Recsat Charlie reports no further hostiles in the area. Good work, recalling Angel flight, and tasking Recovery Team Gamma with Live Containment units to the location.<</span>

Mortimer Balman has posed:
     Mortimer accepts some mild painkillers and a couple bandages. "Easy there, kids. I'm not so damned old you need to start mummifyin' me! Hell, look, he didn't even crack or knock out any'a my teeth!" He'd let out a coarse laugh, and slowly walk into the transport and flop into a seat, letting out a yawn. "Hey Captain. Do me a favor.. Tell me when yer gonna interrogate Clifford the Big Red Bastard over there. I wanna /watch/." A somewhat.. Sadistic smirk, and then he'd lean his head back into the seat and immediately.. Fall asleep? Fall asleep. Clearly he has not forgotten one of the most basic Marine Corps tricks of 'sleeping any-damn-where'. "Zzzz.." Painkillers of course help a lot with that.

Crys Gattz has posed:
Crys Gattz sees that the last of the aliens seem to be down at this point, Crys has managed to make sure they are finished off. The Sectiods are finished, Cryst goes to make sure they are dead before she contiunes to roam making sure there are no more hostiles or other things of danger.

"Well keep alert ther emight be other things in store for us. We didn't lose anyone I hope..."