Scene #4736: The Coming War

Owner	Pose
Devon-7	The source of the distress signal is fairly blatant for anyone that feels up to checking it out. One of Mars' moons has what appears to be a miliraty installation built onto the surface of thr craggy grey brown rocks, visible from space on approach. Whatever activity here seems to be dwindling though, by the time investigators arrive, the base appears in the last stages of frenzy. Bulky spaceships take to the air, their weapons visibly tracking anyone that so much as moves, before decifing that discretion is the better part of valor. Alarms blare from the facility, the heavy metal blast doors all lay wide open, without a care in the least for whatever military personnel, equipment, and secrets may lay within. Of note, the air here on Phobos is apparently breathable, having been terraformed to a degree. Though there's no visible atmosphere from space there's no need for space suits or pressure suits on touchdown.
Zephyr Windstar	Zephyr has gotten herself an environmental suit fitted to work with her Barrier Jacket... something she likely won't get much use of anymore, but she's using it now, through an orbital Warpgate. If the ships open fire at her as she descends, they'll get back in kind with glowing purple spheres of magical plasma. The Mage has had enough of bullshit, it seems. She lands, checking her surroundings before pulling up screens around her. "Windstar here. I'm on the ground... looks like something came through here and tore up the place... Atmosphere is thin, but breathable."
Uriel and Qemuel	One streak of light, then two, and two young women are kneeling on the platform outside, having travelled via the coordinates and warpgate. The dark-haired one is first, dressed in casual tee and jeans, and she rises to her feet with a frown. "Looks like they're leaving in a hurry." The other one rises to her feet a moment later. Fair of hair and skin, Uriel tosses back her hair and looks at her near-twin. "I suppose it might still have something interesting in here though." Neither has their wings out, looking more like normal girls than anything else, but it's Uriel who gives a dirty look at any ships that might threaten. Qemuel, the dark-haired one, is already heading for the doors even while Zephyr is reporting in. "Might as well take a look."
Deelel	Deelel had picked up the distess signal and it on a moon of mars of all things? That was not quite expected. Though given the moons of mars history and this time of year? Deelel was very wary about what was going on here. So here she was arriving by light jet which was oddly able to fly in this enviorment and Deelel herseld was clad in some sort of form fitting suit and a helemt which hid her face as she starts to bring the craft down for a landing. "...There's been terraforming work done then Zephyr keep alert there may be native grid bu... wild life."
Camilla Ulyssa	"Who in their right mind would name a planet after YOU?" Camilla asks, head turned slightly towards the mechanical sheath housing both of her blades. <Someone who knows more about naming planets than you,> a flat but smooth male voice retorts from said sheath, a few lights flashing. "Had to be a drunken wager." No, the lovely foxwoman has never been to space, and her world very much lacks that too. The stars and constellations have names, much like Earth, but the sky was devoid of planets, at least until the lone continent of Terra Unified in the middle of the Great Ocean. Still, she's always up for exploring. Armed with a map, no doubt wrestled from the hands of a local, and lured by the sounds of battle, she'd flown in, wearing nothing but that black uniform and coat-cape, shielded from the dangers of space, though feeling like she might have wanted to wear a scarf or something. Protected doesn't mean comfortable! She sees the Warpgate in use, and doesn't need long to put two and two together. People are responding! Things are about to go down. She flies, effortlessly (and much more comfortable now that she's in-atmosphere) and with style through the air, settling in between Uriel and Qemuel. "Hello hello! So, what is it tonight? I missed the briefing."
Sigrun Stem	Sigrun is surrounded by a fairly sizable softly glowing blue bubble, a bubble that provides her with fresh air and a stable atmosphere, while shielding her from background radiation. She's got her bow out and an arrow nocked in her hand as she carefully approaches Zephyr, before relaxing and raising her left hand, the gem lights up and a big glowing field spreads out and then retracts back in. It's a spell that's looking for living beings.
Devon-7	Whoever these lot are, they want to be anywhere else that is not here. The entire base is evacuating with an extreme prejudice, that results in no shots fired with the arriving operatives, agents, and investigators. Anyone paying attention to the more local radio waves will pick up on growling, snarling, voices, low, deep, and in an alien language; though it translates well enough. It's an army; and though they try to remain disciplined and in control, there's no missing the hint of panic in every voice from the lowest grunt, to the upper command echelons as they try to maintain an organized retreat, in spite of their extreme, EXTREME, haste. They manage well enough aside from looking like dogs running with tails between legs. There are living things present. Barely. A snuggling pig-like growl-snort sounds off from one of the open doorways as a figure emerges. It would be a monster, somewhere in the region of eight feet tall and two full tons in all that armor as it drags itself on all fours out the doorway, bloody, choking, and eventually keeling over and giving up the ghost. That spell will find more, deeper inside, though just beyond the door into the entrance of the firebase is a grim scene, squads of similar corpses, strewn all around the cold steel interior, no sign of an opposing force, and with almost nonsensical wounds. From a doorway deeper within, just hovering in the arch is a sphere of white light. That darts into the corridor beyond.
Zephyr Windstar	Zephyr looks at Deelel and Sigrun as they arrive, then over at the confederates. Hmm. "Hey. We're all here investigating, right?" she calls out after the angelic pair as they start walking inside. "We should work together, at least for now. Whaddya say?" she asks, as she sets off to keep up with them, scooping her hand to her companions to keep up. "Local radio chatter is literally buzzing, Divine Wind's trying to parse it all, but all we can really get is 'oh god run away now'. Here... I'll parse a radio we can use. Comm hub will be Divine Wind." The Axe in the Mage's left hand chimes. <Opening communications pathways. Ports are open.>
William Pauwel	The unmistakable sound of a motorcycle rolling in thunders through the Martian air. On it is... Someone in far too much armor for these parts. Or perhaps in armor that is at least hundreds of years out of date, by most sensible reckoning. But still it rides, visor aglow overtop a motorbike that's somehow large enough to accomodate it. "Howdy," Will calls as a local tac-net comes online. "Caught a whiff of somethin' strange going on in this neck of the woods. Pretty neat place they've got here-- kind of eerie too, though. Uh." The motorcycle comes to a rest near the others, a series of spotlights arranged around its rider's armor coming alive. ...Illuminating the carnage within. "...The blazes happened in here? That one is... Dying? Of what?" Of something terrible, no doubt.
Deelel	Deelel craft vanishes in a burst of light turning into a baton that's then slapped to her leg, and it remains there. It doesn't take mucgh longer for her helmet to do the same and she takes a moment to get an idea o where they are but there are living things here she was right and one of them shows it self it looks like something exits as a thing dies and Deelel backs up a strange blade forms into being in her hand as she takes a closer look. "Looks like the fight's still underway, we should be careful. We dont know who is who here." The Keyblade was ready should she needed it. "Something really bad's going down Will and I know not what..."
Uriel and Qemuel	Qemuel shrugs, "You don't bother us, we won't bother you. We're just here for the curiosity." A tarnished lance manifests in her hand as the creature staggers out and dies, making her grunt. "Well, that was less than impressive. Camilla, you got anything?" She's going to prod the corpse briefly before moving on, taking a careful look inside. With everyone shining lights everywhere, it shouldn't be hard to see what's going on. Uriel doesn't produce her own weapon yet, hanging back more toward Sigrun than her sister or Camilla. "Well, something scared them enough to run away fast."
Reker	It seems that Reker has arrived on scene, thankfully just in time. With the alarms going off at this facility, he quit out of his match in GGO and went into wander mode. A couple of quick jumps later and he has pulled up to the facility in his LTV. He dismounts and strolls up to the crowd, aparently wearing nothing more than his normal gear and a gasmask, "Looks like we missed the party." He muses, as he leans his HCAR against his shoulder and looks at the devestation within the facility from where they're standing, "You think there's any survivors?"
Camilla Ulyssa	A GIANT MONSTER EMERGES. Camilla drawns her swords, looking excited that the two angels were correct. Yeah, a fight! Big monster! Excitement! And then it kills over dead on its own. "Oh come on!" Floating, she flutters over to the monster's body and gives it a kick. "Rude! You don't die before giving people a chance to fight you!" She turns back to Qemuel, as if that answers her question. "I got a dead body here, does that count?" A sigh, and she heads inside, trailing after everyone else like a sad puppy. "There better be more of those or they're going to have an even better reason to be scared," she grumbles, vaguely aimed at what Uriel said. "What's this place anyway? Like, what do people usually do on hi-tech bases they build in space?"
Devon-7	The firebase is in just the state it could be expected to be in after a mass total evacuation. Bullet marks and scorch gouges pock and sear the walls everywhere, small fires blaze, out of control but too small to cause real damage in chambers made entirely out of metal. The only source of light are the small fires, and emergency lights, though, as whatever power systems running the facility have failed. Poking the dead Cabal with a lance reveals a few things. The corpse is covered in wounds, armor similarly scorched by an eerily splotchy black 'light' clinging to the corpse, a corona of darkness radiating and wafting from every point of injury like black steam. Camilla will find herself sorely disappointed. The only way to go is down, from the looks if it, through the open doors and corridors slanting downwards, and at first all that greets the strike team are more similar corpses. And then one hall is where things get macabre. Blotchy patches of inky nothingness hug to the walls, swirling and chaotic. Looking into them is like looking into a field of stars through a smoke machine, with an electric strobe light flashing behind it all. Listening to the strange rifts is like an assult on the senses to the unprepared, like fingertips reaching out to touch the surface of the mind with a very unpleasant exploratory hunger. The base is a wash. Past this horrid hall are more like it, and more scenes of death. An elevator can be seen plummeting down a glass chaft, one sole living armored bulk trapped inside. He attempts to leap out the top, jetpack carrying him up to the elevator latch before the counterweights malfunction and it plummets the rest of the way down out of sight with his screams echoing behind. Another can be seen turning a corner- only to be caught by a ball of white light, suffusing his bulk. HE struggles and tries to resist, but if not stopped, it vanishes with a thundrous clap. It's like some sci-fi horror movie playing out, but for real. Now any sensors, or that life detection spell will pick up the most activity, just inside the next room beyond; packed with crates and boxes. There's something just beyond. Waiting.
Zephyr Windstar	Zephyr moves through, taking point alongside Qemuel. She's moving in pace with the lance weilding angel, her hand-axe and three rotating Bits covering her armament. "Hold up! Movement." she says, pulling up as the elevator plummets down. "Poor bastard." She tenses up, the gem in her Device, and all three Bits lighting up with purple energy as that white ball comes flying in and... makes another one of those massive creatures just, vanish. "Eyes open. Divine Wind, give me an Area Search, Visual pattern... Spread out ahead." Divine Wind chimes firmly. <AREA SEARCH. VISUAL MODE.> four 'wisps' like smaller versions in purple of that white bolt eject from the gem at the head of the axe-like Device, before flitting off ahead. Four windows open around the Mage, showing each Wisp's viewpoint. They're vulnerable to being shot down, if whatever's ahead is aware of them and doesn't want to be monitored.
Uriel and Qemuel	"Mn..." Qemuel is, now that she's on-task, pretty professional and precise. She advances slowly, lance at the ready, peeking around any corners and moving from cover to cover. She's basically expecting something to leap out at any moment, though for now she refrains from letting her wings out. Uriel trails behind, stopping to examine some of the blotches and rifts. One of them gets a small test of a bright beam of sunlight, blazing out to sweep over it and assess what happens. It's not holy or anything, but it is entirely natural sunlight. "What strange wounds..."
William Pauwel	There is some spooky shit afoot here, and if Will knows ANYTHING about spooky shit, it's that it's always good to have your gun ready in case you need to shoot it in the spooky face. Will's lips draw into a wary frown behind the T-45's visor as he reaches for his favorite gun. Plasma crackles and coruscates around the Solano's barrel as it hinges open. Blue-white lightning arcs from the gun to nearby surfaces before stabilization fields come online to contain the wild energies. "Alright, so no elevator rides, no going into corridors alone, and always keep a torch on hand. Got it." "We should probably keep movin' though," he murmurs. "We can't just... Sit around when there's something prowlin' the halls."
Camilla Ulyssa	Lots of bodies. Weird rifts that are obviously trying to... attack sanity? Just corrupt? Worse? Camilla's no expert, but she knows not to mess with them. There's no fun or challenge to be had in those things. An eleveator crashing down, some guy turning the corner and evidently getting killed. At least, this is keeping her on-edge. "We should!" She agrees with Will, and starts floating forward faster, trying to get ahead of the group, getting impatient. "We're not going to find who's behind this if we lag behind! If we're REALLY unlucky someone'll kill them before we get there!" That's a problem, sometimes. You have to account for the hero response factor.
Devon-7	Attempting to shine sunlight into the rift... Is like feeding light into a black hole. It is a darkness so deep and profound that it sucks whatever is cast into it up with a yearning hunger. It takes the light for itself, and it just might never give it back. It might not be best to touch the stuff, especially when it slithers off the wall to try and envelope a Cabal corpse. Whatever it attempts seems to be failing. On the corpse.
Deelel	Deelel takes a moment to explain herself upon the radio but that's all she has time to focus on the firebase is just a mess the signs of combat are everywhere but she's not even sure to make of the corpse or just what kill the being either. She keeps her keyblkade out as she starts to alook around to try and finds any sort of terminal but it seems there's a total wash here for useful things but they need to push on so with a faint grunt? Deelel presse son to the next room trusting her allies with the better scanning packages. She's does halt to ready her blade and cast a haste spell on her self and any one near by who will allow it!
Reker	"This is crazy as hell." Reker says, as he brings his weapon around into a ready position, "Everybody keep your head on a swivel. Last thing we need is anyone getting snatched up by whatever that thing is." He wishes that he had some kind of vision enhancer on his gasmask, but he'll just have to do this the old fashioned way. He swaps ammunition type to explosive on his HCAR and loads a new mag to lock it in, "Come on creepy white stuff, come out come out wherever you aaaareee.."
Devon-7	No elevator rides, no travelling alone. They seem like good ground rules, even for a group of skilled indivuduals such as these. The atmosphere this deep in the firebase seems to be one that is just utterly alien and inimical to like. A cloying sense of pervasive darkness in the air, encircling, strangling, a growling voice rumbling from the blotchy patches into another dimension. A name. A name... Garbled and hissed at first, until once through that doorway. The room beyond is wide and spacious, filled with boxes and supplies, things that will never be used now, fires here flickering and showing another firefight. The back of the room is an open hangar bay door looking out upon Phobos and Mars beyond on the horizon. And then the air seems to come alive. It's a static tingle at first. Before reality seems to sunder. And there it is. A dark phantasmal figure, almost as large as the room itself, a living being formed of darkness, with three blazing eyes that focus on everyone. "LIGHT." It bellows. "GIVE ME YOUR WILL!" The air seems to explode, and the vision is gone. Replaced by multiple flickering figures. More creatures made of a much more vivid darkness, moving as though a strobe were shining behind them. Some are lean and slender, some are as massive as the Cabal- and seem to look LIKE the Cabal warriors save for the fact that they all bear glowing white cycloptic eyes, lifting shields of darkness and guns of equally dark miasma that start to lance bolts of white-black with murderous intent. There is a flicker of motion from a corner. A vaguely humanoid figure that slides out of the shadows like a shadow, light bending around it. Before the camouflage melds away. It's hard to tell if that's a cloak, or if it was once an old duster coat, it's so tattered and worn, draping over dusty brown leather and armor plating. There is no mistaking the sight of a cowboy hat resting on top of the man's helmet though as he lobs a grenade into a cluster of the dark figures to kick off one hell of a firefight. Is this the fight Camilla was looking for?
Zephyr Windstar	<DANGER! WARNING!> chimes Divine Wind in alarm as they group cross the threshold and the energy in the air coalesces. The giant figure gets Zephyr gritting her teeth and yelling out. "CONTACT! Spead out! Get to cover!" before she's off to one side, sliding behind a storage crate. "Okay Dee, options. We don't have the clearance for Bombardment spells in here without causing collateral damage... and I don't want to try hitting that thing with you." The Bits of her Device pop up over the crate, and open fire in return to those black miasma bolts, firing machinegun-like streams of pulsed magical plasma, trying to buy some time by forcing them to back off, or take cover. <Option: Massed Shooting-type assault, consentrate all fire on the larger target, leave smaller targets to support personnel.> "Anything else? <Forsake collateral damage and fire at full power, all out attack.> "We'll save that for Option B... spin up the Shooter Drives, prepare for Mistral Shooter, Hurricane Shift." <CONFIRMED! MISTRAL SHOOTER. HURRICANE SHIFT!> announces the Device, as the Mage rolls out of cover, then leaps into the air on a pair of purple pixie-wings, multiple motes of the same coloured light manifesting around her. Ten. Fifteen. Thirty. Fifty. They hang there, waiting for a shot at the Big Guy at the back.
Uriel and Qemuel	"Heh. Cover you?" Qemuel finds that amusing for some reason, though she's quickly looking at the dark misasma shooting out. The bolts are something of a concern, and she ducks at cover while she assesses the situation. A lance isn't much good against these things, and she doesn't want to switch to a bow yet. So... wings, black-feathered and inky-colored, erupt from her back, and steel-sharp feathers start flying in small clusters to 'cover' Zephyr, just like she suggested. "Sister, this might be your territory." Uriel creeps up, frowning, but she doesn't want to enter the major fire zone without support. Well, Camilla is there and others. So, with some reluctance, she waits until one of the dark figures is in a clear line before sending a stream of brilliant, white-hot flame licking out toward one from the palm of her hand. "I dislike this."
Deelel	Deelel is very much with the idea of not breaking up, not using any lift systems in a palce like this. Both could prove to be fatal if one were to do such. She would keep with her allies as they enter the next room and then the thing comes what seems to be a being of darkness and she readies her keyblade it's edge humms a bit asn Deelel semes ready to fight but more nad more of the things come. "Let's see how you dance!" She then lunges into the fight of the hostile things which are coming for them her Keyblade lashes out as thes things remind her some what of the Heartless which isn't a mark in their favour. The Blade humms like a ID disc from Deelel's homework and she seems to be almost dancing as she makes her attacks.
William Pauwel	This is the second time this month that something's subjected Will to horrible visions from beyond the pale of common sense and past the thin, diaphanous veil of reality. Will responds in predictable fashion for an otherwise completely ordinary space cowboy. He screams, levels his gun at the vision, and starts firing. "Will!? You want Will!? WELL Y'ALL CAN'T HAVE ME, WHOEVER Y'ALL ARE!" ...Oh. There may have been a misunderstanding here. The Solano is /not/ a matter of misunderstanding, however. There's no confusion about what Will is doing with it. Bolts of blue-white plasma shriek into the gathering murk. The T-45 isn't rated for horrible anti-light, but the energy bolts sink into the infinite black of the plates Will had bolted onto its chassis none-the-less. The Chaser roars as he kicks his armor into a rolling dash, tiny but powerful servomotors screaming bloody murder as they haul several hundred kilos of metal and man in tight, deceptively agile maneuvers. Someone sets off a grenade. Will takes advantage of the confusion while his targets have their shields down. The Solano's shots rip through the darkness, each one carefully aimed at an exposed limb or head or torso. Apparently, he's already classified these things as 'OK to shoot to kill.'
Camilla Ulyssa	Is it the fight she wanted? Judging by her grin, it very well might be. "Well now I know which of you is the sister that hates fun!" Camilla replies playfully to Uriel, before advancing towards the larger looking figures, the ones resembling the monster they saw outside. "Now then, Mars, spin the wheel of fate and let's get this party started!" A click from her blades, and along the surface of the black and grey mechanical blades, runes start spinning, three columns like a slot machine. Eventually three stop, forging themselves into the metal, like they'd always been there. <Your fate is sealed: continuous dark enhancement.> the swords ping. "WHAT." Both blades begin glowing purple and black, consumed in an aura of darkness. Camilla frowns. "MARS YOU GOD DAMN ASSHOLE, THOSE THINGS ARE PROBABLY RESISTANT TO THAT!" <Ha. And it's continuous, you can't turn it off.> "I KNOW HOW YOU WORK!" Well, whatever. Roll with the punches. This might make the fight more challenging and interesting. Silver lining! Camilla dashes and begins slashing, weapons predictably inflicting dark-type damage along with the slashes. She goes to town, trying to see how tough those big cyclops are.
Devon-7	As soon as that grenade goes off, it erupts with a golden flare of orange hot light like the sun, briefly basking the room in sunlight glow, before the Guardian is on the move. Stealth camouflage flickering as he darts and weaves through the fuzzilade of crossfire at full sprint. And then everything is a blaze of chaos and gunfire. The creatures of dark miasma are numerous, and that's all that the smaller ones have going for them. As Device bits choot one down, another one suddenly MITATES, splitting into two, their numbers replenishing for each one felled, before a large swathe are burned away by divine fire. But they are small fry, easily cut down by keyblade, and even that blade of darkness, though there is a resistance to Camilla's assault, it seems they die to that all the same, albeit aside from the fact that she might have to swing harder to do it. The Solano punches through several exposed creatures of this abysmal black. Before the larger, Cabal-looking ones rally, forming up a phalanx of their dark shields, the eyes in the centers of their shields radiating outward with violent concussive epxplosive shockwaves. The Taken come in waves, they fall easily individually to the combined assault, but there are a lot of them. A conspicuously large amount-- like the amount of a whole base of soldiers throwing themselves at the impromptu fireteam of convenience. The massive figure among them, Oryx, approaches, dark wings spread wide. And then that cloaking sputters out again. The Guardian drops into a baseball slide that carries him the last of the distance before popping up to stand amid Uriel and Qemuel. In the middle of a massive firefight, he has time to tip his hat. "Ma'am. Ma'am." And then he draws. Quick as lightning, the clawed gauntlets snap low to his hip, drawing an ornare revolver from his holster, he unloads, fanning the hammer, emptying a full nine rounds into the nearest squad of Taken. "So howdy. If y'all got a plan, nows a good time to get it done and git. There's a Cabal ship that got left behind, we can hitch a ride on that and vamoose." He says, helmet attenuating his voice with a tinny edge. Almost as though on cue, a blocky construct floats out from under his cloak, glimmering eye flashing before it displays a hologram map of the facility, the path to follow, and the route towards the aforementioned ship.
Zephyr Windstar	Oryx. Zephyr's eyes lock onto the giant with the spread wings, <FIRING LOCK IS CANCELLED. MISTRAL SHOORTER. HURRICANE SHIFT! OVERDRIVE STANDBY!> The blade of Zephyr's hand-ax splits into four little 'vanes' that begin to rapidly spin, the three Bits spinning up quickly as they gather energy. "If we're going, get going! I'll buy you some time!" she calls, before pointing her Device at Oryx. "FIRE!" The Grande Fusillade of the Shifted Shooting spell unleashes on Oryx, bolts of purple light lashing out and generally homing in to try and slow him down or force him back. Some shots incidentally spall off, striking at the smaller Taken, but the Mage can't maintain the bombardment forever. "I'll be right behind you!"
Camilla Ulyssa	Far from Camilla to complain her blows are working just fine. But these things are fodder. It's just not the same rush as finding one, strong opponent. It's when Oryx appears that she regains hope that this isn't just going to be a knife through butter fight. That thing, whatever it is, it's big, it looks menacing, powerful. Camilla hands wrap around her blades tighter. "Oh, I have a plan alright. Like hell I'm running first!" <Form - Pugnus.> The swords click, sounding like clockwork and steel rearranging itself. From swords to large, armored gauntlets, still imbued with that darkness though. There's still time left on that enhancement. What a pain. She zips, burning magic to augment her speed. Through shots from the Guardian's gun, through Zephyr's barrage, through incoming fire from the creatures (if any) and other friendly fire, before she's all up in Oryx's 'face', if that part of its body even identifies as such. "Hey there, big and nasty! You got a name?" Then she starts wailing. Punch after punch, with the strength to shatter to steel. "Come on, show me you're nastier than all those small nobodies you're having rampage around!"
Deelel	When you get this many elites somewhere? Crazy starts to become the order of the day. She uses her Keyblade up close even as gunfire, explosives and spells are going off. She does what she can and knows she's dealing with the small fry but it's enough they won't be there to menace her allies and friends, right? That's enough for her she keeps at i lunching into the things until the Guardian shows himself and has enough time to pause and tip his hat? Well? That is certainly someone with a sense of style to be sure, also polite if she's recalling human culture correctly. "Sounds like a plan to me ,sir." She shifts her keyblade a little bit and they are going to start pulling out but first? They need to thin out what's left between them and the ship. "Level Start and the ID's Deelel." She notes to Devon-7 before she's jumps back into the fight her blade swinging and her body almost dancing to some music she can only hear as she fights.
Uriel and Qemuel	Qemuel sighs, "Camilla..." A quick flick of her wings, and the feathers spray out to form small barriers for the group to hide behind for cover, before she retreats backward and does a quick, precise stab with her lance to anything that comes too close. "This isn't really the place to just be picking a fight, but she will be... her." Qemuel has seen the type before, and she's figured out Camilla's MO pretty quickly. Uriel flinches, but she is perfectly willing to cover an escape. A blazing wall of flame erupts on one side, to hopefully keep the riffraff at bay. She hesitates to actually retreat though. "Our companion is trying to engage. You Unionites are welcome to flee, we will see if we can drag her out."
William Pauwel	Concussive shockwaves slam into the T-45. Even with its massive weight, it's still just a bipedal suit of armor. The chassis goes flying into a wall, with Will hurled along with it. "Damnit--" he coughs, wheezing a wet, sloppy breath. Might've broken a rib there. "I'm all for gettin' out. Y'all said there was a ship 'round here, pardner?" Will forces himself out of the wall and makes for the corridor-- and that strange cowpoke. "I'm a bit of a pilot, iff'n you can show me the basics. Never flown one of these things before, but... Better than stayin' here with these--" He gestures at the shadows, "Weird, regeneratin' critters."
Reker	Generally speaking Reker doesn't talk a lot durring combat, especially when they have these kinds of things they don't know what they're fighting. He's good at what he does though, Reker's weapon spitting out a mixture of explosive rounds, switching to flame rounds when the need arises. None of it seems to be doing as well as he would like. "Who's the new guy?" He asks as he peeks back over his shoulder at the helmeted gunslinger, "As long as he's on our side, which I'm guessing he is 'cause he's not shooting us in the back!" He drops his rifle again and then draws his handgun, emptying it into another Taken that comeso too close for comfort, reloading and then throwing a plasma grenade from his belt into a group, "Any plans to clear a path? I could throw some satchels out there."
Devon-7	Things are really heating up. There isn't a second that goes by without lead and dark light going flying. For as much a gentleman as he tried to be, the Guardian's next trick is to fling a knife clean from his sleeve, embedding in a Taken eye, before another knife slides into that clawed gauntlet a little too smoothly. This knife gets rammed in a smaller Taken's neck, before he twirls and thumbs back the hammer on his revolcer again, to pop off another shot. Shouldn't he have needed to reload by now? Doesn't matter much. Camilla and Zephyr are going for Oryx, the Vulpes darting amid the battlefield more untouchable than a tumbleweed breezing through a stampede of darkness. "I AM ORYX." The shadowed beast bellows, one mighty clawed hand lifting, fingers curling as the shade manifests a massive black sword. But before it can be brought to bear with disastrous results, the Mage's spell impacts, throwing his swing off course and opening Oryx to Camilla's brutality. It says something for the strength behind this projection, that it can last so long under the combined might, to eventually try and get a few counterattacks, both melee, and distance in the form of large bolts of darkness. But it is a withering assault. "And I will not forget thisssss." That is the Taken King's promise as the combined force causes the manifestation to lose power, and the shadow of Oryx is banished from the battle. The TAKEN are still present though, in droves, but dare not pass Uriel's wall of fire, others crumpling and erupting into wisps of black smoke, losing form as Reker unloads into the ones daring, or foolish enough to try to flank. This seems as good a time as any to mosey. "Name's Devon-7, ma'am." The Guardian replies to Deelel, before that blocky little construct pipes up, "And I'm Oakley! C'mon! Follow me, I'll get y'all outta here faster'n you can say 'yeehaw!'" The Ghost says, already zipping off. "Whelp. You heard the little lady, let's go." Devon says, already taking off, one hand holding his hat down to his helmet. "I wasn't much for shooting a man in the back, when fighting back to back with 'em." He does note to Reker. And a few of those satchels may help, because side paths have Taken swarming out, as well. But it's a staight shot through the open wall out to a landing pad with a Cabal ship waiting with the ramp down. "Think you can fly that with about a fifteen second crash course?" Asided to will. All aboard.
Zephyr Windstar	Zephyr continues to fire, smaller, more concentrated bursts of purple missiles as she hovers backwards, keeping to the back of the group as it moves. "Big guy's down, move it to lose it!" she cries, grunting as shadow bolts slam into her Barrier Jacket and spattering against hastily erected diamond spell seals that appear in the path of the attacks. These shields don't last long, and some even outright shatter on impact, letting a weakened bolt through to harrie the Mage. She grunts softly, her Barrier Jacket entirely tattered, with some segments missing showing just how much damage she's taken. She holds the ramp, for the others to board, only ascending once the others are aboard.
Camilla Ulyssa	"Oh so you DO have a name," Camilla manages between punches, trading blows with the avatar for as long as it remains standing. At some point, the darkness dissipates from her hands, though far too late to do any appreciable good. The avatar wouldn't had an easier time with those blows, and thus, an easier time getting his own own. For the most part, she takes them in stride. Swings in melee strike against her clothes, seemingly impenetrable, while bolts scatter around her. The hits do add up though. Under the magical coat and uniform, skin bruises all the same. Shock isn't absorbed entirely. Until one nasty blow sends her flying back, crashing not far from Uriel. It's karma, really. When she rises, the nasty claw marks in her clothes mend up, but she seems overjoyed, not in pain. It might be just a little bit more than a desire to fight that drives this fox. "Gone, huh. Well, I won't forget it either. Alright, I'm good, let's split!" No more protests against the retreat. Camilla hops off the ground and behins hovering again, following after the retreating group. At least Uriel won't have to DRAG her back, right?
William Pauwel	Will's a gunslinger. Among all the skills he's picked up over the years, his talent with a pistol stands alongside his affinity for all things technological as one of the major contributing factors to his continued existence. That said, when facing down an ENDLESS SWARM of what appear to be horrible shadow creatures, Will is starting to feel really limited by just one gun. Fortunately, he has people to help screen their escape route. It may LOOK safe, secure and open, but Will's not about to take that for granted. "It's up ahead!" Will yells, his handcannon firing staccato bursts into nearby corridors and doorways. "What in tarnation even are these things, pardner!? You look like you know somethin'-- No, after we're onboard. Y'all just tell me where the ignition, throttle and steerin' wheel are and we'll talk on the way out! Just, uh." "...Iff'n we crash, and we MIGHT CRASH," Will coughs into his armored visor, "I'll try to get us as far away as we can make it."
Reker	"I'll cover your backs, go!" Reker yells out to the others, as he holsters his pistol and then switches to the satchel charges. These things aren't cheap to make, and they pack quite a punch. He tosses a few out, heading for the areas where the Taken are flooding in from, trying to land them close to the entrances, "Go go go!" Reker turns to run for the ship himself, as he mashes the plunger on the detonator to set off the charges, pulling his rifle back up off the sling to fire at targets as needed on the way to their escape ship. Crap crap crap, he just hopes those charges work, otherwise they might be screwed.
Uriel and Qemuel	"It's a bit of a pain," Uriel mutters, offering Camilla a hand up. Qemuel is not talking now, she's sending blade-feathers out to make complex patterns to block off pursuit. She'll trade with her sister, letting Uriel go with the others while she keeps Taken at bay for the retreat. Uriel then exclaims, "Oh, are we riding in a spaceship? I haven't tried that yet." Sigh.
Deelel	As the entire group is able to take down Oryx in a display of power and skill? Deelel pauses at it's last words before it vanishes? It's not dead no it will be back and now they are on their list. Well she'll have to live with it the Ghost was right about them having to go and she'll run with all the speed she cna muster to get ot the ship with the rest of the respnding group. "Lets move I dont' wish to see anyone left here tonight!" Demios on Halloween? Oh Her User that's asking for trouble.
Devon-7	The Taken come. Everyone piles on board the ship, the Guardian making sure to be the last to do so, before he smashes the ramp release control with his elbow, pulling the ramp up and sealing the ship off from taken assault. Riding on a space ship seems to be the plan as he takes off his hat and uses it to dust off his armor and his cloak. "HoooooWEE, that was a hell of a dance and run, huh?" Devon says. Then his helmet comes off next, carelessless dropped to the floor to reveal an almost skeletal face of tan metal plating. The man is more machine than man. This doesn't stop him from finding a place to sit and buckling up. Safety is important. This is when the ghost floats over Will's shoulder to start running through the diagnostics and figure out how to actually operate Cabal machinery. "Aw, sugar, what's the fun in a crash course if there ain't no crashing involved?" The Ghost chirps. This will be a hell of a ride into the sunset, probably.
Zephyr Windstar	Zephyr fires a few parting shots as Devon seals the ramp, then throws herself into a seat to strap in. Once she's strapped down, she checks the broken segments of her Barrier Jacket, wincing as she assesses the damage. "Broken rib... lot of soft tissue damage... I'll be feeling this in the morning." she grumbles softly.
William Pauwel	"That's not why they call it a crash course!" Will babbles as he starts flipping switches and pulling levers and hitting just about any big shiny button that isn't hidden behind a pane of breakable glass. "THAT'S NOT WHY THEY CALL IT A CRASH COURSE AT ALL!" He boops something that looks like an ignition. Suddenly the engines fire. The ship tears free! ...At its maximum possible sub-light speed. Whoops.
Reker	"Hey don't look at the negatives." Reker says, as he tries to find things to strap himself in with, "Think about the fact that even if we die, we just kicked the shit out of a bunch of ugly alien monsters. So at least we'll go out on top!"
Devon-7	"Well ain't that cute. But it's wrong." Oakley replies to William, before she ends up pinned to the back of the cabin wall thanks to speeds of yes. This is why Devon buckled up.