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IC [Colonel Ojeda]

 

"First rule of killing Mantis, Spaceman." The group by now had gotten out of the bar and begun down the corridor. Two of the bugs ran out from an alley and fell to two shots of the Colonel's revolvers. "They're instinctual beasts, in the heat of battle. They don't strategize well, prone to run off and just slaughter things. It makes them dangerous, but it makes them predictable." They continued to advance, creeping along the first floor. It seemed to have been cleared rapidly, the Mantis having already mostly moved on. Disemboweled bodies lay littered on the ground, and in the distance, the sound of ripping flesh could be heard. Not the most pleasant, to be sure. "Devas," the Colonel turned on her comms. "Get the engines hot and prepare for an emergency jump. I've got an Engi and two Zoltan coming your way, they should be able to give the engine that little extra boost it needs."


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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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IC (Devas)


“More xenos?” Devas couldn’t restrain a curse. Perhaps it was merely the heat of combat, but the xenophobia that the Imperium was built on seemed to have come to the fore. “Right, my boys and I will do what we can.” They weren’t soldiers, he could practically feel the panic rolling off the Rehn. “Well, we’ve got our orders. Inside. Now.”



I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC: Estelle

"I'm fairly good with a fire arm... But I've come face with these ###### before... Killed one with my bare hands once." She said truthfully before watching the corridor once more.

Edited by -Windrider-

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IC:

 

As the first Mantis rounded the corner, Daniels squeezed off a shot, the magnetically-thrown slug embedding itself in the "neck", just barely off from the beast's head. Even if that didn't prove fatal, the rounds that would no doubt accompany from his allies would. Which meant one down, thankfully.

 

Seven shots. He didn't say a word about the thought, though Ameli, at least, had probably noticed; William was using a revolver. Though a very powerful one at that, it was also low-capacity. Even if he was carrying extra rounds (Which he was), he only had eight before he had to reload. And spare rounds only went so far.

 

Not the best for the situation, though the look he gave Ameli seemed to indicate that she better not dare comment.

 

"Walker, Landes." His voice rang out once the shots ended, though the sound of angry Mantis only grew louder in volume. "Start moving back. You're pilots, and we've only got five to start with. They're going to need you if things get rough out there. Cover us when you can, but move to the ship, and move quick."

 

"Ameli, Kharon; You and I'll cover their retreat. We'll fall back ourselves, but we absolutely cannot let a horde accumulate too close behind us."


fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC -- Francis

Francis could only imagine what he looked liked. Serious expression on his face, arm blades poised to strike, and a ring of a couple dozen re-purposed preserves jars circling his head. Half the jars were filled with a mixture intended to cause severe irritation to eyes, skin, and olfactory cavities; the others with a slick mixture sure to trip up the most sure-footed foe. As Francis began to slither back toward the ship, he telekinetically tossed half of the latter down toward the stairs that the mantese were soon to emerge from. "That oughta slow 'em down...."


Takuma Nuva


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If The Good Lord had intended us to walk

He would not have invented roller skates.
-- Willy Wonka

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IC: Estelle

 

"Roger that. Landes, you move ahead. I'll be right behind you okay?" She said as she began to walk back, her revolver raised as they quickly made their way to the ship.

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IC (Ameli)


“Understood sir, I suggest, if we see anything flammable on the way back, we lay down a wall of fire between us and them. Roaches scatter in the light, I doubt the Mantis are that smart, but it’ll give em food for thought.” Ameli hefted her weapon, checked its ammunition levels and nodded to herself. “And they called me paranoid.”

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC: Ashley

 

Ashley fired a round at the first mantis not long after Daniels did, she'd done it rather automatically at that. Out of fear, training, or both, who could really say?

 

At Estelle's order she nodded, "Yes Ma'am." Ashley began heading back, as quickly as she dared. She didn't take her eyes off the corridor, nor her weapon.

Edited by Yoko Littner


My Bzprpg Profiles, Six Kingdoms: Rebirth Profiles

Skyra | Savina | Darien | Hakari | Mekana | Oceanna | Taleen | Mimira | Denerium | Talinka | Arisaka | Wraith | Xxeth | Silene

 

 

 

 

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IC [Colonel Ojeda]

 

"Xenos that are going get us out of here in one piece." The Colonel ducked down, a Mantis springing up from a broken stand and giving a swipe at her head. A fist to its sensitive thorax joint and plasma shot to the lower skull took care of it, though not before it almost took off her arm. Hissing at the gaping wound, she pulled out a canister in her coat, jabbing it into her arm. A blackish goo covered the wound, stopping the bleeding and beginning work on stiching the flesh back together. It wasn't perfect, but it'd keep her aim straight. The Colonel stopped for a moment, resting against a wall and closing her eyes. It would be difficult for Souper to hear her, amongst the confused and screaming thoughts, but hopefully the clarity of hers would allow him to pick it out of the crowd. Souper. I need you to focus. Pinpoint our crew, and, if possible, guide them back. There's another slug here, Zoss. He can help you, if you need it. The important thing is making sure everyone is falling back.


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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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IC: Estelle

 

Estelle fired a round as well, ensuring that she stayed between Ashley and the Mantis. Ashley was her subordinate and she, as any good leader of a small group, put their safety ahead of hers.

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Kenshin Harken

 

IC: Following the engineers inside, Kenshin rushed to the armory. He would need more firepower than he could get with an SMG if he wanted to hold off any Mantis following their people. So, he went to one weapons locker in particular and entered his specific code. The electronic lock beeped after a second and then opened allowing him access to all the deadly things inside.

 

There it was. the P1908 Squad Automatic Weapon, capable of sending seven hundred rounds of plasmatic death downrange per minute and a backpack ammo case with thousand more rounds in it.

 

Hefting it out of the locker the special forces soldier had it set up and was running back out of the ship in under five minutes. A few crates shoved around and he had a semi defensible location in front of the airlock. Setting the weapon down on one of the crates, he settled down behind it, ready to blast any unwelcome visitors to pieces.

Edited by Silvan Haven

"I serve the weak. I serve the helpless. I am their sword and their shield. If you want to strike at them, you must go through me, and I am not so easily moved."

zsUPm2E.jpg?1

 

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IC Vincent

Vincent had been polishing up the ship's hull when the alarms went off. "A Mantis attack? Here?" Truth be told, Vincent had never expected such an event to happen so soon. Still, why hadn't he? He was participating in a war, something he forgot all to often. With great haste, he dashed inside the ship and locked the doors, heading for the armory.

 

IC Geburah

"How rude." That remark was the only response the Zoltan gave to this recent development. Such events were nothing more than part of the job; that didn't mean he had to enjoy it though. Unholstering his plasma pistol, he followed in the direction of the ship, hoping that he could make it there without incident.

Edited by A Magus With Class

image.png.c6796875523d13ecbbe1a66f6d436694.png

Coming Soon (but not limited to):
Chiaki | Davonne | Ichiko | Merla | Onu-Mangai | Parua | Seiryuu | Vine

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IC


Slug.png


ZOSS


A FEW MINUTES AGO:


A sharp shudder ran through the metal floor of the bar. Dirt and rust fell from the ceiling. Roars of fire and exploding metal echoed from below and above. The patrons of bar all instinctively reached for their firearms, as if they were one machine. A few charged out immediately, the bartender disappeared into some sort of hidden safe hole, one patron responded to the stress by punching the man in the stool next to him and running like the stars.



Zoss followed the Higher-Up-One's lead, slouching down below the table to remain mainly unseen, waiting until the chaos subsided. Without a word, he then followed the captain out of the bar. As the group moved past a trampled dead smuggler on the ground, Zoss stooped to scoop up his firearm, holding it tightly but making sure the safety was on. Never hurt to be cautious.



Zoss' world was drowned in the loud mental shouts of his comrades- their fear, worry, and the adrenaline stimulating their brain gave out a mental roar. Zoss' own brain was undergoing a similar process. He was scared. He was in flight or fight mode, his mental senses more powerful than ever. Every mental sense was tingling, alerting the slug to the movements of even a fly buzzing through the cramped hallways.



The higher-up-one killed three Mantis with apparent ease, every death astonishing the slug. As he passed, he looked at the impressive beasts. Their corded muscle was visible even under their thick carapace. Their blade-like forelegs glistened with the blood of those they had killed. One had drawn some symbol on it's forehead with the blood. One had some ritualistic piercings and tattoos, accentuating it's power and deadly appearance. These were warriors. Zoss was not a warrior. Just trying to get by.



Instead, he remained mentally alert, waiting to follow whatever order was given to let him survive.


Edited by Visaru

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OOC:

Uh... this isn't exactly maybe the time to mention this, but Wulf forgot his rucksack. Can I retcon and say that he already got it safely aboard before the Mantis hit?

IC: [ Wulf Kharon ] - Galaxy's End

The privateer's eyes froze solid in an instant. Dead solid. Twin orbs of tawny ice, jumping in their sockets like billiard balls on the green, restless, alert, intense.

He didn't say a word; there was nothing to say. He knew what was happening before it even really got started; knew the enemy, the possible odds, what needed done, and his every neuron focused down onto it with ruthless, pinprick clarity. This was combat. His world, his element. The screams of the dying, the rattle of gunfire in the steel-lined halls, the echoing click-click of hungry mandibles.

Retreat to ship. Make sure all teammates get out alive. Kill anyone and anything that gets in the way.

Falling into step alongside Daniels and Walker, moving with a relaxed feral ease more lethal than any tension, Wulf Kharon drew his heavy 9x19 mm revolver and clicked back the hammer. Eight armor-piercing rounds; he had spare magazines in his pockets, making thirty-two rounds total. Every shot counted, each shot was a potential kill, and though his group already had visual on the Mantis, he held his fire.

His commando knife was sheathed, hidden, strapped snugly against his muscular left forearm under his sleeve. Carefully, not letting down his guard for an instant, he shifted the revolver to his left hand, drew the knife with his right, slid it into his belt where it could be more easily accessed, shifted the revolver back. If it came to close quarters, when every millisecond counted, he wouldn't have time to fumble. If he fumbled, he died.

 

The Mantis gave no quarter, and they asked for none. Wulf Kharon knew; he was the same. He respected them for it, but when they crossed him, he showed no mercy. He was a warrior, and they were warriors, and today, they were blood enemies.

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OOC

On one hand it's cruel, on the other hand cruelty builds character. Go run back and get it. =P


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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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OOC:

Uh... okay. Sounds like fun. What floor would the hotels and such be on?

E: post edited to reflect answer to above question

IC: [ Wulf Kharon ] - Galaxy's End

And then, with the Mantis on their heels and hand-to-hand combat breaking out throughout the entire space station, Wulf Kharon realized he didn't have his rucksack. It was back in his hotel room... back being the operative, though not quite technically accurate, word. Room and board were on level four, and he could collect it on the way up to the hangers on level five, but still and all, it would a definite, possibly life-threatening nuisance.

No doubt, the invaders would be prowling the hotels for loot and unfortunate civilians, and the hotels weren't exactly located right off the stairwells, either. Quite the opposite, in fact. This would mean a good fifteen minute delay, right when they couldn't afford it.

In a rare burst of self-directed anger, he muttered a curse (or two) under his breath. Abruptly, fluently.

"######! Bloody ######!"

Edited by Shadowhawk

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OOC
You're on deck two, room and board's going be on deck four. Kestrel's on deck five; you can hit it on the way up.

Edited by Strategist Alex Humva

voidstars.png


1 1 2 3 5 8 13 21 34 55 89


"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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IC - Kelezaag:



Mantises may not have been famous for how much they valued life, but if there was one thing they did value, it was a good squad when there were hostiles around. It was, therefore, Kelezaag's first thought to ensure the safety of any combat-trained individuals in the room; the more soldiers they had, the less would die, and the lower the chances of her biting the bullet. It was then that the Colonel announced that the hostiles on-board were other Mantises, and it occurred to her that attempts to help would be met with hot lead to the face. She immediately created a new, better plan: Screw them, I'm getting my own rear end out of here. Still, even if she wasn't planning on running into them, it wouldn't hurt to announce her presence to the rest of the crew. It obviously needed to happen before she could get on the ship, anyway. "This is Kelezaag, formally requesting she not be shot," she said into the comms, drily.



As she raced through the halls, it occurred to her that even if she wanted, she could not likely defect. A Mantis in a rage was not a thing to be negotiated with, and even if they were, it wasn't unlikely that the clan responsible for the attack had a bounty out on her. Not unlikely at all.



She was in the middle of reviewing her position: second floor, moderate distance from the nearest stairway, when a flash of green ahead of her alerted her to the coming swarm of hostiles. She had no hall to turn down, so, naturally, she called out to them. Without stopping, she cried, "This way's clear,--" she gestured behind her with one leg, then forward, "--saw a group of civvies head that way." The other Mantises were a pair. For now. Their exoskeletons weren't too differently shaded from her own, so she expected her ploy to work. One followed her direction without question, darting off in the way she had pointed, while the other looked somewhat confused. That was enough for her to close the distance between them, and slay the first with a flurry of blows. The other was still unprepared, and fell without too much resistance. She did receive a small cut on one leg, but it was minor. Her limbs, now stained with Mantis blood, resumed carrying her down the hall.



Avatar by Brickeens

 

 

 

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IC (Karin):

Karin had loitered around the Kestrel's hangar for the better part of an hour, waiting for someone to invite her to join them on the station, but no invitation ever came. By now she was sitting against the wall near the entrance, her knees tucked under her chin.

 

What am I doing here? she thought to herself. Of course no one's going to invite me out now. If they were it would have been earlier. It was silly to expect anything of the sort in the first place anyway.

With a dejected sigh she pulled herself to her feet.

 

That's what she expected at least. However, the next instant found her face flat against the hard metal deck; her ears slightly ringing from the blast. She rolled over on to her back and looked up at the ceiling. Then her brain finally started working again.

 

"Oh shoot..." she mumbled, leaping up. She almost fell over again as the pain in her head hit her, but this time she managed to keep her balance. Someone was shouting over the radio but she could barely make it out over her ringing ears and pounding headache. The message seemed rather urgent, so Karin quickly scanned the hangar for someone who could confirm what was going on.

There. She spotted another crew member at the other end of the hangar entrance quickly setting up some makeshift fortification. He's, uh, one of the marines. Harken I think?

Karin dashed over to Harken and ducked down behind the cover he had set up.

 

"What exactly's going on?"

 

She almost had to shout to hear herself.

Edited by Kothra

misaka_76_banner_800.jpg

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Kenshin Harken

 

IC: Seems she was a little too close to the blast

 

"Mantis decided to pay the station a little visit. I suggest you get inside and be ready to receive wounded, I'm going to stay out here and cover our crew in case any of them are being followed."

 

He made sure to speak loudly enough that Karin would be able to understand him.


"I serve the weak. I serve the helpless. I am their sword and their shield. If you want to strike at them, you must go through me, and I am not so easily moved."

zsUPm2E.jpg?1

 

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IC (Karin):

Karin nodded and rushed off into the ship. Upon reaching the medbay she tore off her coat and tossed it to her desk. She then scurried around making sure that all of the equipment was ready for use. After this she found a paracetamol bottle in one of the drug cupboards and popped a caplet into her mouth to help with the headache.

Done with preparation, Karin sat down in her desk chair to wait for specific orders or for any wounded to show up.


misaka_76_banner_800.jpg

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IC [Colonel Ojeda]

 

The group had, by now, advanced to near the stair-well, but the Colonel wasn't quite ready to ascend the steps. Pulling out her sword, she pried open a nearby door, finding herself in a security office, a dead man resting in the chair. Debris had landed on him, the unlucky ######. She shoved the chair away, accessing the console. There, she could see the station lifeform scanners, with Mantis signatures distinct enough to show up clearly. While there were about a hundred and seventy total Mantis on the station, she could tell by movement and grouping that the raiders were... sixty or seventy perhaps? It was hard to tell with the smaller groups. At any rate, they were fanning out, and the computer displayed a worrying 637 life-signatures. This station easily had over a thousand when they had first arrived. The Mantis were being quick and brutal, these common criminals obviously weren't prepared for it, relying on their AA and League protection to keep any major presence away. But still, that causality count... there was obviously a smarter mind behind this. A Mantis Brood Commander, some bug who had risen through the ranks and could manipulate those of his species to suppress their bloodlust and think tactically. Why would such a commander attack this little station, though? Was it feeding time again?

 

She turned her attention to the screen. The Mantis were fanning out, and with Major Daniels and his group on deck two, and themselves on deck one... They'd cut them off easily. The stairs were going be death traps and the elevators would have guards posted to them. Perhaps... hmm. It was a long shot, but it could work.

 

"Harkin, Devas." She turned the comms to share their frequencies. "I have a plan. The Mantis are closing in on us and the Majors aren't going be able to get out without someone dying. Devas, you had experience with land vehicles out on the frontier, right? A Confederate half-track isn't quite like a Vendarian hovertank but I think you can manage. Get your boys working on the engine, you yourself get to the half-track. Harkin, you're going to get on that half-track. Your armor can shrug off Mantis shots, strap your heavy weaponry to the half-track and provide fire while Devas drives it. Take cargo elevator... four, that'll bring you down to where the Majors are closest to. Smash through and get them in." She turned the comms to Skinter. "Skinter! Get all your men to the ship hanger bay, Harkin's going in. Pull every heavy gun you can find out of the armory, the Mantis are going start swarming once they realize we're here."

 

She heard chittering to her right, and looked out the office to hear footsteps coming down the stairs. Quickly, she rammed her sword into the door's manual lock, barring it for the time. The Mantis themselves began slashing at it, and it was sure not to last very long.

 

"Do hurry about it please." She switched to the Majors' comms. "Sit tight, help's on the way. You'll recognize it by the Vendarian screaming bloody murder as he runs over Mantis."

 

[brood Commander]

 

Outside, all this radio chatter hadn't gone unnoticed. As one of the Mantis fighters zipped about wildly, strafing the outside of the station, an elderly Mantis sat, cross-legged and meditating. The Colonel had made a tactical error; Federation transponders, outside of their own ship, didn't possess nearly enough encryption to last long against a prolonged attack. It was a tactical error on the entire Federation's part, failing to consider that the Mantis had devised improved ways of breaking their encryptions. So the bug sat, listening to the human speech, considering it. This human vessel was not what it had identified as, it was of no League creation. No, it was a new ship, a Federation ship. It intrigued him. What was a Federation ship doing out here, consorting with some human market station? More importantly, why did it have a false identity? It was questions that he had relayed to his superiors, a small pod being launched, set to reach the Mantis core worlds within a week. Perhaps they would act on it. Perhaps they would not. Communication was slow in the stars. He would have to take charge of this himself.

 

He stood, tuning the radio chatter out. He had to prepare himself. Doing battle with their commander, this Colonel Ojeda, would be the first step to deducing this ship's mysteries. Or perhaps the Majors she spoke of. Human command structures were odd, relying on formality rather than experience and age. A Mantis was automatically superior by virtue that he or she had lived longer than the rest. That proved one's worth as a warrior and a commander. This Major Daniels seemed like a capable man, as did this Major Walker. He would have to fight them, too, some day.

Edited by -Windrider-

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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Kenshin Karken

 

IC: "On my way Ma'am"

 

Hefting the heavy plasma weapon over his shoulder, Kenshin got back up and made his way back inside. First stop, the armory for another ammo drum. Then to the cargo deck. Once there he got to work rigging a temporary swivel mount for his weapon on top of the halftrack.


"I serve the weak. I serve the helpless. I am their sword and their shield. If you want to strike at them, you must go through me, and I am not so easily moved."

zsUPm2E.jpg?1

 

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IC (Devas)


“…So, to recap, I am being ordered to run over a horde of delightfully crunchy Mantis with several tons of cold, hard steel.” There was, for just a moment, a note of genuine happiness in the chief engineer's voice. “It will be done colonel, with all due haste.” Devas switched channels on his comm and contacted any member of his engineering crew well enough to hear it. “Orders from the colonel, she wants the ships engines up and running, as quickly as you can possibly manage, Rehn, you’re in charge until I get back. I’ve got some bug-smashing to do.” In a flash, the masked engineer had taken off at a run, heading towards the half-track.

Edited by Basilisk

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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Kenshin Harken

 

IC: Having a thought Harken spoke out over the shipwide radio channel.

 

"If there is anybody with combat experience still on the ship I would suggest they get out front to watch for anyone coming. I have some crates set up for cover so you wont be too exposed."

 

Just then the sound of running feet heralded the arrival of the other person that would be joining him on this crazy venture.

 

"All set up here" He called out.


"I serve the weak. I serve the helpless. I am their sword and their shield. If you want to strike at them, you must go through me, and I am not so easily moved."

zsUPm2E.jpg?1

 

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IC: Can

 

"Boarding team, to the hangar deck." Can's voice cut in over Harken's voice. "This is Captain Skinter, Boarding Team to the Hangar Deck, on the double." Can's voice abruptly cut out, as he shifted to a private channel to the Colonel. "Colonel, Teleporter is hot and ready for extraction. Request permission to retrieve my Mantis; don't want any chance of friendly fire." In truth, Can had created a multitude of teleportation solutions; one tracked Kel and was prepared to beam any aboard her and any other crewmembers in her area. Another tracked The Colonel. Can had been in the process of creating a retrieval solution for Landes' group(they seemed to be the biggest chunk of the crew aboard the station) when the Colonel had given him his orders; of course he had abandoned that to head to the armory. Not long after Harken had begun setting up his machine gun, Can arrived; his pistol was loaded with a full cylinder of plasma rounds, but his sword was still in its sheath. Strung across Can's shoulder was a full bandolier of grenades, of various types.

 

IC: Zhanar

 

The issue with glowing lime green in the middle of a firefight while bloodthirsty mantis swarm around you, is that you are glowing lime green in the middle of a firefight while bloodthirsty mantis swarm around you. Zhanar, quite aware of the issues with this, was taking advantage of the unusual aspects of his body. Specifically, his lack of need for oxygen. He had been on his way to one of the station's hangars to retrieve his pineapple crate when the Mantis had struck. When the hangar had been opened and vented to space, he decided to take advantage of the situation and his lack of need for air, and was now simply walking across the outer skin of the space station in full vacuum.

Edited by Xomeron

That being said, thag thag thaggity thag thagness.

-Rover

 

"A memo was sent to Astaria asking if it would at all be possible to make a flying goat."

"The Astarians responded that making a goat fly would be trivial; making it land safely would be another matter entirely."

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IC [Colonel Ojeda]

 

"Beam your Mantis out, but keep it off for the rest of the crew, not risking them in a teleport."


voidstars.png


1 1 2 3 5 8 13 21 34 55 89


"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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IC:

 

"Kel this is Skinter." Can said, once again on the Boarding Team frequency group. "I'm about to beam you out, we don't want any friendly fire incidents. Once you're there, get to the airlock and watch it; your job is to keep out any Mantis we don't know." After he finished giving out the order, and without properly waiting for a response, Can spoke a command word into the channel the computer was listening to, engaging the solution to teleport Kel onboard.


That being said, thag thag thaggity thag thagness.

-Rover

 

"A memo was sent to Astaria asking if it would at all be possible to make a flying goat."

"The Astarians responded that making a goat fly would be trivial; making it land safely would be another matter entirely."

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IC: Souper Saladd

 

Well this shopping trip had gone to human . Following Francis' slime trail, Souper made sure to shoot at the stairs as Mantis came up with the ray gun xhe had hid in their bag in the very case that something like this had happened. Souper didn't look back except to shoot directly into the chest of any oncoming Mantis. Today was not a good day to die, today was a day to move quickly and quietly while taking pot shots at the enemy. Xhe was just glad that their particular subspecies of slugperson did not secrete the slime trail unless absolutely necessary. Perhaps the Mantis would think that Francis was alone, in the case that this happened.

 

Whatever happened, xhe'd be right behind the more telekentically powerful slug and there was literally nothing else to worry about except to get to safety. Hopefully the ship wasn't in bad shape at the moment, because if so xhe'd be stranded. Again. Xhe hated being stranded, after all.

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IC: Zokander had still been searching around the food market when the screaming began. He put a hand inside his jacket, placing it comfortingly on the grip of his sidearm as you might on the head of a loyal dog. He turned to face the wave of panic, a whir ratcheting from the mechanical orb that was his right eye as it zoomed in on the rush.

Mantis!

Would that pestilential race never rest until they had laid waste to everything in the universe? Odds were that if they had no humans to fight they'd turn on themselves. Maybe that was even why they had started the war, to use up all those bodies they kept making by the trillions.

He started running towards the nearest pair of mantis were dicing their way through the civilian population, pausing only to quickly scan a shelf and grab something. His lungs started to burn and his heart hammered behind his sternum like a piston, but he refused to slow down, keeping his sprint going by sheer force of will, using his teeth to tear open the packet he'd appropriated. Not as young as he used to be, his organs were getting lazy and slow. Bah, to the devil's halls with them, his brain was as spry as ever and that was all he needed.

As he got closer to the carnage he stopped and drew his handgun, taking aim at one of the two mantis. His head felt like it had an entire blacksmiths in it, hot and pounding, but he took time aiming, trusting in his bionic implants to help compensate. Remember, their armour was weaker around joints, weaker anywhere they needed to move especially on a regular basis. If this shot was going to count it needed to hit a joint...

He pulled the trigger, sending a burst of plasma screaming through the air at the mantis, currently winding up to take a swing at a bleeding human. The shot hit one of its legs, taking it off right at the root. The mantis' weight and building forward momentum was enough to unbalance it completely, and it toppled forward onto the ground with a sharp crack. Zokander knew it would soon get used to its new status as a tripod and would be back up and fighting, so went to deal with the second mantis. As he knew it would, it had immediately charged right at him as soon as he fired at its comrade-in-arms, rushing to deal with the threat. No time to properly aim, and just firing randomly had too low a possibility of really stopping the alien before it had a chance to turn Zokander into sashimi. But that was why he'd taken the packet. He threw it at the mantis' face as it charged, causing an eruption of reddish-orange powder.

It was a dehydrated curry. A blend of dehydrated chemicals and spices designed to be food if you properly prepared it. But if you didn't prepare it then it still made a pretty effective weapon. The mantis shrieked in pain as the powder bit and stung at its eyes, one of the few if not only places where it had no exoskeleton to defend itself. It skittered about as it pawed at its eyes, but its sabre-like arms with distinct lack of fingers were hopeless for delicate tasks like cleaning its eyes. As it chittered with anger and pain, Zokander pointed his gun at what could charitably be called its neck and pulled the trigger. Something else fingers were great for.

By now the first mantis was back on its feet, though with one less of them it was forced to be slower and more cautious. Zokander employed similar tactics, sidling over to the corpse of the felled mantis and ducking behind it to use as an obstacle should the remaining warrior try to simply run him down, or if it had a gun it had decided not to use. Perhaps wary of its more unstable footing (and apparently lacking in ranged weaponry) it elected to try and go round its brother, legs clattering on the metal ground. This slower approach gave Zokander enough time to think up his next move, and he rolled around the dead mantis, trying to keep it between him and the live one until he reached...

Aha, the head.

The 'sects had acidic saliva, and even though its head had been largely severed from its body by the force of the plasma bolt it was still secreting corrosive drool. It was already starting to burn a small pit into the space station floor. As the sound of chitinous legs grew louder Zokander fired another shot, taking the head off completely. Before the oncoming mantis had a chance to clamber over or around his makeshift cover, the officer leapt to his feet and hurled his decapitated projectile. The 'sect swung a be-scythed arm to block, but the impact just spattered him with acid drool which ate through its armour like a series of tiny drills. Ignoring its yells of pain, Zokander aimed...

Bang.

That was both the mantis in his immediate area down. But you never got just two. He needed to get back to the ship, get a proper handle on the situation, receive any orders from the Colonel. Of course there were bound to be more of the enemy along the way...

His jogged path towards the station's hangar took an indirect course. One that took him winding through the food court, where he could get his hands on all sorts of makeshift weaponry...


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Zokander knew it would soon get used to its new status as a tripod and would be back up and fighting...

 

OOC: That would be pentapod. =P

 

Or quintapod, if you prefer Latin prefixes to Greek ones. =P

 

IC - Kelezaag:

 

"Yes, sir," Kelezaag responded as she rematerialized in the teleporter room. There was a brief moment where she experienced a disorienting sensation of being both on the station and on the ship at the same time, then the process was finished, and she was solely on the Kestrel. She wasted no time in racing for the airlock, from which she joined the other crewmen. They seemed rather wary of her, but returned their attention to the hangar's entrances soon enough.

 

They would now have to wait for the first Mantis to reach the hangar. Kelezaag estimated that this would only take 3 or 4 minutes, perhaps a few more if they regrouped outside the enormous room. While those around her readied their weapons and other such equipment for battle, she readied her mind. She had only her sharp forearms and her acid-producing head to fight with, and they were governed by her mind; therefore, her victory or her defeat were solely in her own hands. She had no gun that she could blame if she missed, only her body. It was, in her opinion, the only real way to fight: free of outside influence, dependent only upon her own ability.

Edited by Burnmad: Toa of Emoticons

Avatar by Brickeens

 

 

 

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IC:

 

"Colonel, this is Skinter. I've got Kel here to guard the airlock. Permission to join on the half track?" Can said, as Kel walked into the hangar. He gave Kel a nod as she did so; he could probably trust the Mantis to be satisfied with killing other Mantis.


That being said, thag thag thaggity thag thagness.

-Rover

 

"A memo was sent to Astaria asking if it would at all be possible to make a flying goat."

"The Astarians responded that making a goat fly would be trivial; making it land safely would be another matter entirely."

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IC [Colonel Ojeda]

 

"Guard the ship Captain." A Mantis claw broke through the door, the Colonel opting to grab the less spiky bit and give it a good hard pull, ramming the creature against the door.. It only seemed to make the bug angrier. "Devas and Harken can handle themselves."


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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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Ic:

 

Upon hearing his new orders, rehn quickly scrambled to the engine room, quickly trying to asses any damage done, and repairing it even quicker as he tapped into the colonel's coms, "sorry for the intrusion sir, do you want me get the ship ready for take-off?"

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IC Geburah

"Oh dear," the diplomat thought, running through a crowded hallway. He was still on the same level that he had met the Colonel on, heading for a nearby elevator, ready to melt the head of any Mantis that came too close. Still, he was alone (in the sense that he couldn't find any of his new allies, not in the sense that he was the only person in the immediate area), and that was VERY bad. He needed to find somebody, but who? With little other option, he decided to try the comm number that had came with the information package. "Um, would this be Colonel Ojeda? I'm still stuck on Deck Two with none of your crew in sight; should I attempt to get to the ship alone or is one of your men in the nearby area?"


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Coming Soon (but not limited to):
Chiaki | Davonne | Ichiko | Merla | Onu-Mangai | Parua | Seiryuu | Vine

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IC: J. Taylor

 

Taylor fired a few shots through the newly made hole in the door; doubting that it would kill very many--if any--mantis, but hoping that it would at least slow them down a bit.

 

If Taylor wasn't so much the silent type he might have yelled out some kind of clever taunt or insult at his foes, instead he was content to let his gun do the talking.


wheel-of-cheese-with-piece-cut-out-3d-mo

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IC [Colonel Ojeda]

 

"Ambassador, in the future, stay with the group, it really goes a long way towards improving your life expectancy. Stay put and we'll grab you." When the door shattered, the Colonel pried her sword out the instant before, using it to skewer the first Mantis that came through. Giving it a shove she pushed the remaining Mantis behind it down the stairs, hopefully delaying them for a moment more. "Ascending to deck two now. Devas, now would be a perfect time to make an appearance."


voidstars.png


1 1 2 3 5 8 13 21 34 55 89


"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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IC:

 

"Sounds just like normal."

 

The quip carried easily over the comm lines, but Daniels was paying no attention to whether or not it was received. He was more concerned by one disturbing fact; Though he could still hear them easily, the Mantis had not yet rounded the corner. In fact, none of them had. They should have rushed out to take vengeance by now, but they hadn't... And the chattering sounds were getting louder. What were they-

 

The question, regrettably, was answered very quickly. Four Mantis rounded the corner, two charging forward, blade-like arms held menacingly erect as they gnashed their mouthparts angrily in what was no doubt in their language a battle cry. Worse, however, were the other two; As the bullets that flew down the corridor, disturbingly close to accurate, proved, the other two were armed. It wasn't an uncommon tactic, though it was the highest the Mantis usually got; Some laid down suppressing fire while their comrades ran forward to rend flesh and bone.

 

Will fired a single shot down range, clipping one of the ranged Mantis, though not enough to kill, before ducking behind cover.

 

"Well, this just got a **** of a lot better!"

 

*************************************

 

Unbeknownst to him, it was worse than he knew; No others had rounded the corner because they were, in fact, following parallel corridors. At the speeds they were moving, there was a very real threat that they would encircle the group before they could fall back further.

 

************************************

 

Outside the station, one of the fighters took note of Zhanar, flying by and strafing the Zoltan with its anti-fighter turrets. Venturing outside against five fighters hadn't been too grand an idea, even though the five were slightly occupied dodging and attacking the station's defenses.


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On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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