Public A bit of a Predicament [All are welcome!]

[Xzeench]

Westenra Mina
Zachariel Steelblood

​

Westenra's grenade throw wasn't the most well planned venture. Infact, it might of been done on sole instinct alone. As the Templars and other Federal Troopers were packing up to move to the front, and secure their newfound prisoners. A High-Yield Plasma grenade landed directly infront of the Warrior of Light, and the Primaris Khania. And... well. Right below Zachariel.

It beeped at him. A malicious beep as the green tinge around it started to turn into a bright blue, extremely quickly. However, it would be /just/ enough time to allow Zachariel to jump away and take cover.

It exploded in-front of the Warrior of Light and Khania. Thankfully, encased within impenetrable force bubbles, the damage they received was negligible. Sadly, the grenade literally spewed molten hot plasma within a thirty meter radius. Coating several of the Federal Troopers in hot plasma, causing their armor to melt off their bodies, and water within their cells to explode outward in a grotesque display of damage. Others died instantly, others were literally burned so badly. The only way to tell if they were alive is by the movement of their tongues in mouth.

The Templars fared far worse, with the largest number of them attempting to maintain the force-based-prison keeping Khania and the Warrior of Light from moving. But that plasma grenade easily vaporized five of the ten, leaving the others plagued by a massive psychic shot that fired itself through the force around them. The remaining Five Templars visibly collapsed, clutching their skulls as they came to experience a massive neural shock that rendered them incapacitated.

The bubble around the Warrior of Light vanished shortly after the explosion, and the bubble around the Primaris Khania also vanished. They were free. In one swift movement, the Warrior of Light continued his swing at Khania, who doubled backward with hand forward shouting at him.

"Brother please No-"

Her words were cut off by the Warrior of Light decapitating her on the spot. With her head flying off her shoulders. Khania's body dropped backward and splayed against the dirt. Dark Red Ichor leaking from the neck stump. Meanwhile, the Warrior of Light caught sight with Aravae, and charged at her. Unfortunately, she was close enough to be rushed. And- in her state of neural shock, and possible internal hemorrhaging. She barely put up a defense as he raised his blade and swung, it connecting squarely with her outstretched forearm. Lopping it off by the elbow, and sending the mangled arm flying a few feet to Aravae's left. Which was caught swiftly by a dumbfounded Federal Trooper.

The Warrior of Light Turned, a Dimensional rift opening up infront of him. He walked through, vanishing in a heap of black smoke. The work of the Queen Mother, no doubt.

Aravae fell backward on her behind. Visibly in shock while holding the gushing stump with a blank expression. Her eyes were wide, the colors of Amber and blue clearly visible. There appeared to be no light behind said eyes, only extremely dilated pupils staring off into the black abyss. Luckily, the Trooper that Caught her arm rushed forward alongside one of the unwounded Field Medics. The latter of which promptly went to work trying to repair the damage best he could.

As for the Primaris Khania. She was deep within the clutches of death. Her empty eyed face, stared at Westenra with mouth agape and eyes wide. There were scant signs of life. Brief flickers of twitching within her face, and a empty faced stare at the vanishing Warrior of Light. But after a few seconds, the facial features went still. Khania was dead. A Primaris, felled by one of her own siblings. At least, that was to be inferred.

​

One of the Templars was coherent enough to stagger to her feet as he gazed upon the handicraft before her. It was a great tragedy that one of their finest victories had turned into one big Pyrrhic Victory. Tens of thousands of troopers killed, and a friendly grenading incident the likes of which she never seen. Her mind shattered, and broken. The morale of the group around them utterly shattered and broken.

She garnered initiative and mettle, and marched forward. Blue energy ebbing around her outstretched fingertips. The head of Khania, slowly became encased in a similar force bubble. To preserve it. It would be likely that there was something they could salvage, even for a dead Primaris.

A floating Droid came swooping down from the sky. Egg Shaped, and chrome in coloration. Its face, a screen. Behind it, sat the solemn face of the Federal President Eden peering down at the body, and the purged Federal Troops killed by the Plasma grenade.

"Well done. Come back to Headquarters. I think I know where you should go next."

But there was an echo. An echo of a Cash Register sounding off. +1000 XP. Killing Spree, Betrayal.​

 

[Westenra Mina]

Westenra stared in horror. Slack jawed horror.

Too much had been going on. Too much data to process. Even for her. It had been a miscalculation. A terrible miscalculation that resulted in many on their own side dead.

Her fault...all her fault.

It was her first real, true failure. One she would have to live with if she survived these events.

Melissa stared at the dead. The dead on their own side. Dead because of her.

This was different than Atrisia. She had asked for that fight. Had wanted it. Had given the orders that sent people to their deaths.

But she had not asked for this fight. Had not wanted it. Now they were dead.

She stared at her own blood soaked hands, replaying the data again and again. She simply had not fully processed what had been happening at the very center of the fight. Too surrounded...

...Right?

She felt the stares of horror and shock from the soldiers she had led at how the battle had ended, and the role she had played in its ending. She wanted to curl up and die at the error she had commited.

Had any of them families? How would she approach them? How would she explain that they were dead because of her miscalculation? Her error?

She saw one alive and ran to him. He was badly burned. She tried to use her psychic healing but it was too late...he expired literally seconds after she reached him.

The horrified Android collapsed to her knees, mouth slack in shock at the disaster she had caused. She didn't hear the others...she could only stare at this man who had burned alive because of her mistake.

A grief worse than anything she had yet known caused a cry of anguish to tear from her throat. She was shaking in shock, brain unable to fully process such an intense emotion as this was the first time her emotions had been so completely thrown for a loop.

Friendly Fire...someone yelled it in the background, distantly from her perspective as she beheld the burned corpse.

So many dead over her screw up...what would they do now? She had promised to try and help Aravae but how could her judgment even be trusted at this point? How could she even look Xzeench in the eye? Or even Zachariel Steelblood ?

She stared at the corpse, crying tears of glowing red blood at her error, the flesh reabsorbing it as it tried to run down her face...

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

He had just finished making his promise to their new enemy when the grenade landed below him, just was about to head to his allies when it landed. The grenade landed and beeped, one low, malicious beep. Surprised at the sudden appearance of the grenade, Zachariel only survived thanks to his training and skill, along with his jetpack. With a thought, Zachariel launched himself into the air, soaring high to evade the blast. He was just fast enough, by a single hairs length. The grenade blast caught his lower body, leaving plenty of scorch marks on his armor, and causing him to lose his upward thrust.

This loss of thrust prompted his fall back to terra firma, and made Zachariel look down and witness the carnage. Smiling darkly at the sight, he made a note to take some of those grenades for himself, whatever those grenades were. That wasn't what caught his attention though, what he saw and heard was the Warrior of Light kill the Primaris, even as she called brother. Then the warrior turned and charged at Aravae. Zachariel angled himself to hit where the warrior was standing, his sword prepared to spear through him. Sadly, he wasn't fast enough.

Slamming down mere milliseconds after the warrior vanished, Zachariel was left kneeling, sword buried deep in the ground where the warrior stood. Growling at this disappearance, Zachariel stood upright, pulling his sword out of the ground. With a flashy move, Zachariel flicked off all the blood, dirt, and more that was on the sword. It was then that he sheathed the blade, even as he looked about himself. The carnage was gruesome, just what Zachariel enjoyed, even if he preferred it to happen to the enemy. Turning to Aravae, Zachariel noted she was in good hands. Sighing, he spoke to her then, knowing this was most likely the worst thing she had ever seen, and the only time she'd ever lost a body part.
"Just breathe Aravae. You'll live, these medics will help you." Twitching his head to the medic, Zachariel spoke once more, voice gaining its sinister and dark undertone again. "Heal her, save her arm. If it's anything else, you run it past me. Try anything on your own that is not healing her, saving her arm, and ensuring she doesn't go into shock, you'll answer to me."

Without waiting for an answer, Zachariel turned and stalked towards the front. In doing so he passed by the Templar and the head of the Primaris. Even as he did so, the droid with the image of President Eden appeared, speaking to them as a whole, though Zachariel was closest and the only one truly coherent enough to reply. With a snarl, Zachariel grabbed the droid and brought it before him. Speaking directly at it, Zachariel let his helmets visage of death fill the screen, even as he spoke, voice dark, evil.
"You will wait, dear president. I told you once, do not presume to command me, don't make me tell you again." Releasing the droid, Zachariel made a sweeping motion to their surroundings. To the weeping form of Westenra, the shocked form of Aravae, and the ruins of their surroundings. "Look about Eden, they aren't ready yet. They aren't prepared for the so called horrors of war. This is their first true taste of combat, of what they will come to call the horrors of war. We will return to the base, and there these two will rest for a time. Aravae's arm will be tended to, and Westenra will grieve. So wait your bloody turn and let them be."

Once that was done, and whatever interraction occurred afterwards, Zachariel backhanded the droid away from him, making his way further in. Raising his voice, Zachariel took up a mantle of confidence and pride, intending to raise the moral of those around them.
"Soldiers! You have done well this day. We have won a great victory over the mutants and the Queen Mother. Though it may be marred by loss, take heart, for those who have died no longer need to worry about this enemy, they leave them in our capable hands." Motioning to the wounded, particularly those severely wounded, Zachariel continued on. "All of you, tend to the wounded! Help your brothers and sisters in arms. Save those who can be saved, listen to the medics for they will know what to do. As for those horribly wounded, the living dead, give them the peace of death. Save them their suffering and allow them their eternal peace. They have earned it this day. As for the rest of you, set up defensive positions while the rest of the army pushes the foul mutants back. Defend this ground that we have won, lest the loss of such brave soldiers be for nought."

Motioning with his hand for everyone to set to work, Zachariel hoped that they would have their spirits raised somewhat. On top of that, he hoped they'd do as he had told them too, especially if they actually wanted any of these poor souls to survive. By the time Zachariel was finished with his little speech, he was standing not too far from Westenra, though he was by the top of the impact area, while she was further in. As it was though, he ignored her fully, not even deigning to look in her direction. Zachariel would address her later, for now he needed to look strong and confident, provide a figure to look up to.

Xzeench | Westenra Mina

 

[Xzeench]

​

Zachariel Steelblood
Westenra Mina
A good ten soldiers lie dead now. Five of the vaunted Templars, and Five of the regularized Federal Troopers. Unfortunately, there was little time to mourn. The battlefield had once again been mired with blood as the Federal Assault slowly ground to a halt. Literally dashing themselves to pieces against fortification, razor wire, and MG Emplacements past No Mans Land. The Federals lost their momentum, only taking about a mile or two of land away from the Mutants, who now counterattacked with Vengeance. The Brave Federal Clone Troopers soon turned tail and began a tactical retreat back from the front, across No Mans Land where they would be cut into ribbons by the Mutant Counterattack.

Other platoons were still continuing their assaults, undaunted by the mounting number of losses and wounded. Driving forth in suicide attacks across tiny trench systems and exposed prairie. Some simply broke and ran, and were promptly gunned down by Squad Leaders or fellow Battle-Buddies.

The front just ahead of Aravae, Zachariel, and Westenra was rapidly deteriorating. Entire squads of Federal Clones were in a rout. Not a directed retreat. They were quite literally fleeing in terror. The Mutants nipping at their heels with directed volley fire and mortar shells. Infact, some of the Federal Troops ran directly past Zachariel and Westenra shouting something along the lines of "Retreat!" and "Fall back!"

It seems that the Mutants beat back the Federal Assault, and were likely planning a counter attack.

Thankfully, Zachariel's orders to hold the Center of no mans land garnered fruit. As the Templars dragged Khania's body off to Federal Lines. Rows of Federal Clones moved into a semi-circular defensive position. Around the indentation where Aravae, Westenra, and Zachariel stood. Using the burnt out hulks of tanks and mechsuits as cover, alongside improvised defensive cover like the corpses of felled soldiers, and Renegade Shock Marines. Here they waited for the assault to inevitably come at them from the front.

​

As for the remaining Renagade Shock Marines. They were left both leaderless, and humbled by Westenra's brutality. A whole squad, of five or so individuals knelt in a small squad and raised their massive arms above their heads. Their weapons laying by their feet. Even for imperfect super-soldiers, they did have a knack of finding out that they lost and that surrender was a better alternative than a fools death.

They didn't speak, only murmured growling and mumbling. Having long since lost the ability to speak. Westenra could easily deduce, with her psychic might that they were easily swayed and could be turned on their creators and the mutants with but a single subtle suggestion.

The Mutant assault was already brewing at this point. And they had little time to prepare.

As for Aravae...

She sat on the ground, staring off starry eyed at something in the far distance while the Field Medic dealt with her severed limp with a skill and aptitude only seen in true masters of their craft. It seems that these Federals did salage some Ancient Tech and incorporated it with their Medical Practices. In a few moments, Aravae had her arm back. With a nice thick scar to mark out such a win didn't come without a major loss. She was still in a metaphorical "Port Nowhere" to be honest. Her mind had been ripped away by something the Warrior of Light did, or possibly said. Maybe. If all the Primaris were as powerful as to be thought than perhaps her own inborn abilities could be unlocked somehow. Whatever it was, Westenra could sense the growing power within Aravae. But she would need to be bought time.

The Templars, the ones who weren't killed by the Plasma Explosion came out of their torpor and raised their staves high to the sky upon sighting the enemy encroaching within a few thousand yards. Electric hellfire glowed within their hands, and their staves. And the whispering of ancients lost escaped their mouths as they focused on the advancing Mutant hordes.

Time was all they would need...

By the end of today, hundreds of thousands would be dead. To culminate in this final showdown between the Federal Army, and the Mutant Legions...

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

From where he stood, Zachariel had a clear and perfect view of the battlefield. He was able to witness the continued charge of the Federal troops, how they were pushed back in some places, and how the mutant hordes began to rush the line where he currently stood. Smiling at the slaughter to come, Zachariel unclipped his assault canon from his back. In his other hand, he pulled out the sword and held it high. Raising his voice, Zachariel roared commands out to the entire battlefield.
"To me! Form up on my line, hold them here and now! The craven mutants won't beat us back, they will be broken here and now. To me soldiers! To me for victory!"

Waving his sword around his head once more, Zachariel roared to the heavens, starting up the heavy cannon to provide some cover fire. After a few moments, those nearest to him began to do the same, and hopefully those further out would open fire soon enough as well. It was then that Zachariel realized some of the renegade shock marines had fallen to their knees to surrender. Grinning brutally at the sight, Zachariel let up his fire and marched towards them. In but a few steps he was before them, assault canon pointed in their general direction. Laughing at the sight, Zachariel spoke to them, voice darker than before.
"You serve the strongest, don't you?" Another chuckle escape Zachariel then. "Well then you serve me. ... On your feet maggots! Take up your weapons, prove you are worthy to serve me. Hold this line from the mutant hordes and follow my commands."

With that done, Zachariel let out another laugh, looking out across the battlefield. It was a glorious sight, one that Zachariel took great appreciation in. Grinning like a madman beneath his helmet, Zachariel stood tall and proud, uncaring of the incoming fire, the blood and gore that covered half of him, or the damage his armor had received. It was glorious, and Zachariel intended to take it all in. But it was then that Zachariel received a nudge from the Force, one that pointed him towards Westenra and Aravae. Growling at this nudge, for Zachariel hardly understood the Force or his connection to it, he nonetheless turned his head to look at them.

He could easily see that Aravae was in shock, lost to the world around her. Zachariel didn't know what he could do for her, so he let her simply be. Instead he focused on Westenra. Calling out to her, Zachariel attempted to get her focused more on the coming fight, rather than whatever she would currently be doing. Grieving her failure or something else.
"On your feet Westenra, get to the lines! Prove to everyone that you aren't a failure, but actually a warrior. Stand and fight!"

After a few more moments, Zachariel made his way to the full front of the battle line. There he stood, intending to be in full view of everyone, assault cannon in one hand, sword in the other. Letting out a roar, Zachariel opened fire on the charging mutant hordes, intending to cut down as many of them as he could. The roar he let out was equal parts rage and joy, and clearly showed that Zachariel loved it all. Countless people would be dead by the end of this all, and Zachariel couldn't wait to just push that number higher and higher.

Xzeench | Westenra Mina
OOC- I saw the line with the shock marines surrendering and instantly thought about having them be minions. Didn't notice until before posting this that it may have been specifically for Westenra. Sorry! Won't be editing, cause I don't know what to replace it with and it's late, but I'm good for any reactions to happen from both of you and all sides. It works easily, help is required, Westenra has them obey him or her, or something completely else. Just wanted to put that FYI out there, sorry again.

 

[Westenra Mina]

Westenra was still in her grief when she finally managed to take the time to process the battle data. That and Zachariel Steelblood of all people giving her a short pep-talk.

She saw the warriors being routed on her side. The mutants had apparently begun to fight back harder than ever. She was needed still. The rogue marines had surrendered.

With a weary, psychic pulse from her mind, she twisted the broken people to her influence, still horrified at what her mistake had caused. She stood up, swallowed her grief, and commanded what soldiers that had not fled to follow her along with some of the marines, letting the rest serve Zachariel. She charged, wading into the thickest hoard of mutants, blades slicing through them violently, dodging or deflecting their shots so fast she was a blonde blur on the battlefield. The Mutants raged, and sent their best warriors but Westenra cut them down all the same, the renegade Marines under her command mimicking her graceful, yet far more restrained fighting style. She could never afford to fight as though she were the only person on the battlefield ever again she took great care to protect the ones fighting alongside her. More than she had previously. Her brain had adapted for greater situational awareness.

Though still devastated by her failure, she suppressed it for the sake of helping the ground forces, as well as Xzeench . She still had a job to do. She could still drive back the hoards.

Slowly, she began to force retreats from the mutants, sustaining terrible wounds in the process, but refusing to die as she deflected shots into the enemy...

 

[Xzeench]

​

Westenra Mina
Zachariel Steelblood

Those Mutant Shock Marines, those who had thrown down their weapons in clear show of cowardice easily had their shattered minds literally forced together by Westenra's psychic might, and then to add onto Zachariel and his otherworldly presence seemed to drive them to join the side of those who had slaughtered them. Their horrible wounds, and even worse internal wounds seemed to perpetrate themselves as the imperfect engineering of their bodies seemed to have their tongues literally slough off their faces, and entire limbs simply peel away from trunks and drop to the ground.

​

The pain they must of been feeling would of been excruciating. If they were even mentally present. Through all the stitching, and Frankenstein esque aesthetic they held. Perhaps death would be mercy for them. They stood up in unison, before bending over and picking up their slug-weapons and holding them in a high ready position, at least. Most of them tried. Others simply didn't have arms, others had one arm and some simply were just torsos shredded by heavy weapons fire. The ones that could, turned toward the Enemy and began a literal suicidal frontal change against where the mutants where thickest, taking damage from blaster fire that caused their mutations to go haywire and produce horrendous stinking tentacles, or a horrible stench that carried downwind as if a corpse's belly had burst. Their armor cracked as tentacles, toothed serrations and other instruments attempted to rectify the damage as they charged down hill.

They charged down the bank, a errie silence accompanying their charge. The Mutants closed with them, bayonets fixed and fully intent on skewering them alive. But as they clashed, entire rows of mutants were literally thrown into the air, others picked up by gnashing teeth and swirling tentacles and ripped to pieces. Others were simply bludgeoned to death with rifle butts, whereas some were picked up and ripped into two halves.

This brave charge quickly ended, as the Renagades, despite their physical mutations by both Westenra's meddling and mere close range contact with Zachariel giving them an edge in combat. They were quickly killed and bowled over.

​

Mutants in the thousands were encroaching by all sides now, the front line to where the Federals retreated now falling far behind the hill that the heroes held. Their horrible mutants stabilized by seemingly advanced biotech and cybernetic technologies. They fired off weapons of horrible power at the defenders, with barrel sized plasma blasts simply vaporizing through a Federal Troopers armor and torso, or simple blasters that cut down the men with inhuman accuracy. The regular Clone and Human troops wouldn't hold out against an assault like this forever.

Westenra in her selflessness charged forward into the fray, her own Genetic Abilities and gene craft giving her a hearty advantage against the Mutants. Shot after shot pierced her person damaging organs, and shattering bones to dust before being healed in but a mere moment. There were too many to simply cut to ribbons, and surely she would be overwhelmed if the Mutants surround her and simply blast and melt her to death with horrible death rays. Fortunately for Westenra, a group of brave Troopers. Their armor bloodied by battle and damaged by glancing shots, and with helmets off charged forward to cover her assault. They gunned down tens, if not hundreds of mutants in minutes, giving Westenra time to kill as many as she possibly could. But as with everyone, they too were sooned picked off.

As for Zachariel, he seemed to enjoy the slaughter as plasma blast after plasma blast were simply turned aside by his formidably biology and armor. Barely tickling him. The laughter of the Demon Warrior echoed through the battlefield past the mewling of the Mutants and the shouts of defiance perpetrated by the surrounded Federal Troopers. Fortunately for Zachariel, the last remaining Devastator stood by his side. Rotary Cannon spewing solid beams of death at a rate of fire that would put a Z-6 Rotary to shame. Together the downed thousands of them, but their bodies were simply trampled over by the seemingly endless horde of mutants intent on ripping their guts out and praying to whatever dark god lead them. The remaining few Templars joined in on the killing by sending out rays of electric death that vaporized entire rows of Mutants in but a single shot, the lighting dancing around their heads and hands, and with a deep electric glow in their eyes burning ever brighter.

The Mutants slowly advanced, inch by inch. Over piles of their own dead to get at the Defenders at the hill. They were encroaching ever closer, and killing more and more of the Defending Federal Troopers. All seemed to be lost...

​

A light, blinding in nature shown through the clouds. A spot light, directed exactly to where the hill was located. Illuminating the area for all to see like a mystical beacon extending evermore into the sky. The Mutants stopped in their attack and looked toward where the stimulus was located. Raising their weapons up in unison and letting out a deafening screech as they fired at whatever was in the sky. A loud thump was heard emanating from the clouds, followed by the whistling of something. Something traveling fast.

The clouds parted around a single bullet shaped object hilting through the air at the speed of some sort of star-fighter. It coming down directly abreast of where Aravae was sitting, with head in knees. Rockets firing off to slow it down before it crushed itself at terminal velocity. It came to land nearby of Aravae with a metallic thump. It was some sort of metallic drop pod. Gray in coloration with scorch marks from speed. Visible on the side, the Insignia of the Ancient Catharian Hegemony, alongside a skull, painted in white.

The pods doors opened outward in a ramp-like motion. Landing on the broken ground with a sizable thunk. Stepping from it, a man clad in power armor. Similar to Titus's, but far better maintained and decorated with gold and black. This Shock Marine wore no helmet, as it was strapped to his side, and visibly no weapon. But, lighting licked around his fingers like a flame around a ash stick. His face, ancient and worn. Pockmarked from likely millennia of battle. Like Titus. His hair gray, himself clean shaven unlike Titus who had sported a massive beard.

His armor, gray in coloration. But a red cloak, and a black tabard hung over the Warrior's pauldrons. Perhaps he was another Primaris, come to eradicate them. His face blank as he gazed across the battlefield with tired eyes. Spotting Zachariel, before a slight brow raise was perceivable. Then followed by Aravae, to which his expression promptly changed and the lighting arcing faster and brighter around his finger tips as he began to walk down the ramp. Eyes fixed on Aravae.

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

The warriors that Zachariel and Westenra had rallied were broken, that much he could see. They were horrifyingly disgusting, even to Zachariel, though he refused to show it. The same couldn't be said for a handful of soldiers behind him, who Zachariel could hear retching. Nevertheless, the suicide charge of these failed shock marines was useful, as it provided some breathing room to soldiers behind them. Taking advantage of that, Zachariel yelled at them.
"Move it troopers, on the double! Get into position and just keep firing!"

The entire time Zachariel was firing, not letting up for a second. This was a slaughter, pure and simple, it just remained to see who would emerge to lick their wounds. Because of all this, Zachariel laughed, it all brought him joy, a twisted sense of joy to be sure, but joy nonetheless. That said, even he knew that the mortals around him would die. It wasn't boasting, but rather Zachariel couldn't die, while the rest could. They were outnumbered, outgunned, and slowly being pushed back. If they didn't have a miracle soon, the mortals would all be dead, and Zachariel would feel lots of pain before he reformed.

Standing there tall and proud, side by side with the devastator, Zachariel shot the mutants, cut them in half with his sword, and otherwise stomped them down as they came to him, and he to them. He didn't advance far, but he made sure to create a slight bulge from the other line, so that there was a bastion for the mutants to break themselves on. Roaring his joy and fury, Zachariel stood tall, taking everything thrown at him and giving back tenfold. It was then that the clouds broke and the drop pod came through. Hoping it was an ally, it provided a distraction regardless. Roaring to the heavens, Zachariel called out to those around him.
"Dig in boys, and don't stop firing!"

Roaring once more, Zachariel cut three mutants in twain as they charged him, even as the Devastator fought on alongside him. As the shock marine emerged from the drop pod, Zachariel raised his sword in greeting, hoping the new comer would be friendly. His hopes were dashed shortly, as Zachariel saw the way this stranger marched towards Aravae. Growling, Zachariel quickly contemplated his options. Westenra was running deep into mutant lines, while Zachariel himself was one of the few things holding this line from the mutants. Either removing themselves from the battle would be detrimental beyond believe, but doing nothing would be folly as well.

Cursing in rage, Zachariel grabbed a long string of grenades from a corpse near him. Arming them, Zachariel threw them into the mutant lines, blowing a temporary clear hole in the line. It wouldn't last long, but it might just be long enough. Roaring his fury, Zachariel shifted his fire towards Westenra, aiming to cut down the mutants around her so she could leave the horde. Shouting to Westenra, Zachariel kept the fire up, providing covering fire for her.
"Westenra, get back here. NOW! Protect Aravae from grey skull back there, keep her alive!!!"

For a moment longer, Zachariel kept up the fire, hoping to give Westenra the chance to somehow get to Aravae quickly. Then that moment was up, and Zachariel was forced to return his fire to the mutants charging him. He continued to cut into them, like a hot knife to butter, but in doing so, he lost track of Westenra, hoping that she'd follow through and save Aravae. Swinging his sword once more, Zachariel kept the fire up, roaring his fury to the heavens. "KILL, MAIM, BURN THEM ALL!!"

Xzeench | Westenra Mina

 

[Xzeench]

(Sorry for the delay, Got some kind of weird Sinus Infection that killed me for a couple days. Dw, I'm back now )

Zachariel Steelblood
Westenra Mina

The Gray Skull stepped forward off the platform, rapidly closing distance with Aravae as lightning suddenly welled up in his eyes and started arcing across strategically placed Coils around his armor, as a sort of Force Amplifier. With Zachariel and Westenra hopelessly occupied with the ever swelling numbers of mutants. Aravae barely could look up toward the Man in Gray armor. The Combat Medic directed to tend to her still trying hard to save her arm. He only stopped once the Warrior Thundered at him with a steely gaze. He easily knew that if he tried to resist what was coming next surely, he would be dead before his brain had any time to process the folly of his actions.

​

He was pushed backward onto his rear by some unseen force as the Gray Armored Knight took his place. Lightning and Force Energy welling in-between his fingers. He lowered them at the barely conscious Aravae. And in an instant, a bright purple light shone as horrible gouts of yellowish-blue lightning fired from both his palms at Aravae's chest. Connecting with a literal ground shaking force, that split the stone nearby and caused gouts of similarly colored flame to erupt from the stone masonry. As for Aravae, she was lifted into the air as the lightning swirled about her person. Horrible cries of pain could be heard emanating from her mouth as the bubble of lightning surrounding her slowly started becoming opaque. The cries of agony, and pain would of been music to Zachariel's ears. Had it been anyone except Aravaes.

The Gray Armored Warriors' face contorted into one of supreme concentration. The lightning glowing around his person and licking from his eyes seemed to glowing ever more in a holy golden light. But then there was the last Templar, battered and bruised with his staff still glowing with highly destructive energy literally limped toward the Gray Warrior. His armor glistening with blood and flame, save for a broken golden headdress adorning his brow.

He reached down to his chest, where a pendant yet stood. Grasping it in his hand as he stood up, he looked toward Aravae. Blue lightning glowing around his eyes. As he muttered something. Within his fingertips, the Pendant slowly started to glow blue as he began to crush it with his hand. The glass containment shattering in one swell motion as his body erupted into a blueish green singularity. He too was lifted upward in the air as his armor began to fall away, leaving only the dark green robe. Exposing his face to open air. In a instant, he aged all the way to an old man from a mere young Warrior. Before the pained expression on his face faded, and his eyes closed. His body then deteriorated into dust, before the light ended and nothing but a pile of withered bones fell from the robe and scattered about.

Meanwhile, a ray of light shot from the Skeleton's skull toward Aravae, hitting her squarely in the chest which caused Aravae to gasp. It seems that in an act of defiance, He had given his soul to give Aravae some fighting strength at what was happening. To buy her some time...

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

In the ensuing chaos, Zachariel had lost track of Westenra, but he was still able to clearly see Grey Skull approaching Aravae, while the latter could do nothing. Growling at the sight, Zachariel couldn't do anything as Aravae was electrocuted. It was all so frustrating for him, forced to fight a horde of enemies, one that he enjoyed slaughtering, but prevented him from saving his target. Then, Grey Skull back there being horrible without even inviting Zachariel to the party, while still doing said horribleness to Aravae.

Roaring in anger, Zachariel pushed forward a handful of steps, pushing the horde back ever so slightly. This happened at the same time that the Templar was sacrificing himself to buy them time, time that Zachariel would take. Sadly there were no more grenades to be easily found, so he had to improvise. Taking the experimental weapon he'd picked up earlier, Zachariel began to overcharge it. Said overcharge only took a few moments to complete, but that entire time Zachariel was fighting for his life. When it was finally done, he threw the improvised grenade into the crowd before him. There it detonated with a force half of what the plasma grenade had done, but it still provided a clear and open window for Zachariel to exploit. Turning quickly, Zachariel tossed his assault canon to the nearest squad of troopers.
"Take that and keep the fire up!"

Two troopers had to be used to wield it, but they nonetheless complied, opening fire with reckless abandonment. Turning with that done, Zachariel activated his jetpack, even as he drew his pistol in his now free hand. Activating the jetpack with a vicious roar, Zachariel soared forth towards Grey Skull. His short lived flight shot him close to his target, even as he crashed down a few steps behind the Grey Skull. Roaring, Zachariel landed in a sprint, each step forming small craters with the force of his run. Finally he came to the Grey Skull, and with all the force of his body, his combined speed, and all his fury, Zachariel attempted to ram the Grey Skull, before following that strike up with a swing of his sword towards him.

 

[Westenra Mina]

Melissa was completely overwhelmed by mutants, so busy keeping her own men and herself alice she literally couldn't get to Xzeench . Viciously and repeatedly her blades ripped into hoard3s and hoardes of mutants that had stopped focusing on the other soldiers, and now focused on solely dogpiling her, as she had stymied their entire offensive through sheer brute force and cunning, soaked in mutant blood and sporting dozens of rapidly healing wounds, arms and blades a flashing, glinting blur. Some of the soldiers on her side had stopped fighting in flabbergasted awe of her, silent as dozens and dozens of mutants all attacked a walking meat saw, never staying in one place more than one second as she fought as brutally as she could through walls of mutants, all currently enabled programs stretched to the limits of their calculation as she sliced and diced.

At last, seemingly endless hoardes began to retreat from her in pure fear, giving the soldiers and shock marines on her side an opening to bombard the retreating hoard with artillery and rocket assaults. The soldiers charged regardless of her fighting and killing mutants, and Melissa was at last able to focus on the warrior Aravae and Zachariel Steelblood were fighting.

Melissa killed and butchered her way through another half dozen squads of utants to reach them, body slick with mutant blood as she at last joined the fight. Her warriors rallying even harder against the enemy when they saw her attack the armored fighter from behind with a flurry of fast, vicious slices while Zach attacked from the front.

The Mutants will to fight had been shattered by the Android's savage rampage on the field and now the warriors and soldiers mimicked her savagery, routing the mutants even futher.

 

[Xzeench]

​

The Front had shifted. The surrounded Hill now saw privy to a massed Mutant rout across the field back from where they came. Leaving the rear open for the Federal Clones to push up and retake lost ground. Again, a shout of defiance was given by the Federal Clone Troopers hiding in their trenches, before several flares were fired into the air around the Hill, lighting it up in a flickering white light. The sight of one Clone, with badly damaged bone white armor, stained black through soot and hellfire stood solitary upon the Federal Trenches. Giving a wave of his hand, the rest of the regrouped Clone Army exited their trench in Unison and began a slow march across no mans land. Giving off volly fire of blaster shots to both make the Mutants run faster, and to prevent any return fire in the form of massed defenses.

This newfound tactic proved to be highly effective. As hundreds of mutants were shot down in the back. With some pitching forward flat on their faces, or doing a short dance of death before toppling over. Or simply freezing where they stood once power cabling had been shot and broken.

The field soon swelled with the numbers of hundreds of millions of fresh Clones. Many likely having never fought in this muddy hell that their forebears had. But those that had, bore the scars across their tarnished Plastoid Armor. Previous Clones that survived the earlier assaults took up leadership roles for the newly deployed legion. It seems that this Hill Maneuver bought the President time to ready his next batch of flashgrown Clones.

And it was magnificent...

The Clones very quickly marched their way to the hill, still aways out. The surviving Defenders on the hill, including earlier generation Clones and regular Human forces raised their arms toward the sky and let out a cheer that seemed to shake the Earth beneath their feat. Some hugged their loved one, others gave praise to eachothers bravery in the form on backslaps and pats. But it seems this celebration was a bit too early.

​

Now, as for Aravae. Her cries of pain could be heard throughout the Hill. She was literally getting torn to pieces molecule by molecule by this mysterious Grey Skulled Force User. She was contorted horribly in pain, with the colors of red visible in her now graying eyes. Meanwhile, a few foolhardy mutant survivors attempted to close the distance. They were easily vaporized by the sheer psychic might of the Gray Skulled Warrior before them. Literally exploding outward in a gory display of viscera and blood.

Aravae was lifted into the air, as the Gray Skull's face contorted slightly. Waving his arm slowly in a circular motion before him as if stripping a wrapper off a candy bar. The bubble that surrounded Aravae now went completely opaque. The muffled screams inside dulling slowly before ending all-together. With a massive flash, all who had no eye protection were suddenly found themselves flash burned. Eyes blinded, and skin peeling away.

The Gray Skull didn't seem to anticipate Zachariel's near suicidal charge despite the current predicament. Zachariel literally shoulder charging the Gray Skull into the nearby Bank with some force to crack a mere mortal in half. A loud pained snarl exited the Gray Skull's mouth as he fell backward to face Zachariel. Conjuring lightning with one hand, and sending it crackling around his arm. He shot his hand forward at Zachariel...

The lightning acred from his fingers in a sickening scream. Screeching through the air and vaporizing every oxygen molecule the blue lightning touched. Fortunetely for Zachariel. Westenra charged from his behind. Flipping through the air and cutting several weakpoints in the Gray Skull's armor. Knocking his aim off a tad and causing the lightning to miss Zachariel's midsection, and strike fully at his armored shoulder guard. Literally evaporating it, and Burning the bodyglove to the bone.

As Westenra flipped over the Gray Skull's head, He came to now face the both of them at the front. Bloop dripping through a few cuts in his forehead both by the impact with the bank, and the cuts. He seemed about ready to defend himself. As lightning once more danced across his finger tips in a horrific display of power.

Then, above. The Star Destroyer once again made itself visible. Pointing all of its formidable weaponry at Zachariel and Westenra, alongside the hill. Spotlights illuminated Zachariel and Westenra. Only one word exited the Gray Skull's Mouth.

"Come quietly with the Anathema, and I will spare your lives."

Judging by his tone he was dead serious about the latter statement... as for them now. They were in a Bothan Standoff between a Psychic, and a Star Destroyer the size of a mountain...

As for Aravae...

The bubble that had once surrounded her had vanished. Leaving nothing but a scant scattering of dust. It seems that she had been completely vaporized by whatever the Gray Skull had done. Dead. Gone. Lost to the ages forever. But there was a feeling in the back of each of their heads. That she wasn't dead... somehow. As if a psychic thronging in the force sent that message to them. Meanwhile, a few Clones leveled their blasters at the Gray Skull. Before the President's robot appeared again. It speaking.

"Well well. It seems we have a situation on our hands here."

It seems that congratulations and admiration would have to come later due to this newfound predicament.

Zachariel Steelblood
Westenra Mina

OOC: (DUN DUN DUN, THE PLOT THICKENS. Who is this Gray Skull, and who does he work for!")

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

The mutant army was broken shortly after Zachariel left the front, broken by the will of this army, by the ferocity of its champions. People cheered, they thought this battle was won. Zachariel knew better, and as he came at the Grey Skull, Zachariel saw Aravae die. His helmet and his eyes had flash protection, so he quite clearly saw what happened to her. The sight made him growl in rage as he shoulder checked the warrior.

His attack sent the warrior flying, and he was unable to follow up properly. Roaring at him, Zachariel made to advance, but was stopped by the attack. It would have cut him in twain had Westenra not distracted him. While he was happy for that, it didn't mean he wouldn't give her pain later for these failures. As the lightning struck his shoulder, Zachariel growled in pain as his entire arm came off. The attack didn't go through to bone, as Zachariel had no bones. He was a Gen'dai though, so the loss of his arm deterred him little. With a flick of his foot, Zachariel's arm flew into the air, before the tentacles of his arms reattached his arm together.

Flexing the newly reattached arm, Zachariel held the sword in that hand by his side. At the same time, his heavy blaster was aimed squarely at Grey Skull. As the man spoke, Zachariel realized that Aravae was alive, and no doubt she was this Anathema. Regardless, going with the man seemed like a bad idea regardless. Snarling, Zachariel motioned to the squad with his assault canon. Taking it back, Zachariel spoke up, voice dark.
"Nothing you can do will kill me, and trust me when I say I've survived much, much worse than a tiny Star Destroyer." Cycling up the assault canon to ensure it was in working order and having it pointed directly at Grey Skull, Zachariel took a menacing step forward. "I'm gonna assume you mean Aravae, when you say Anathema. And that means she's up there on the little Star Destroyer, teleported there through your little magic trick. On top of that, the destroyers useless anyways. If it fires, you'll be caught in the blast too. And if you try to teleport away, I'll make sure I'm coming along. So tell me Grey Skull, why should I not just blast you to smithereens, mosey my way on up to that ship, and then kill everyone there as well. Wouldn't be the first nor last time I've done it."

Xzeench | Westenra Mina

 

[Westenra Mina]

Melissa fought hard against the grey skulled warrior managing to get in some damage.

But it still wasn't enough to save Xzeench .

A crushing sense of failure, not just at the horrible friendly fire accident she had caused, but at utterly failing to protect Aravae, fell upon The Android like a ton of bricks. She did not allow it to stop her from fighting, but in that moment, she became a little grimmer.

This failure hurt as badly as when so many on the Morpheus had been killed on Castagne. Then more of the House itself had been killed defending Atrisia from The Sith Lord Mythos. Worse, because Melissa had sworn she would do everything in her power to protect Aravae. She had failed utterly on every level that mattered.

The Star Destroyer leveled their weapons and lights on them, and Melissa almost wanted them to do it. Almost.

When he made his offer, it was all the android could do not to laugh.

"Far as I'm concerned we gotta go some time. Some sooner than most." Melissa growled. Then she pounced, feinting a thrust with her katana Five Rings towards his face only to flip over him at the last moment, land behind the grey skull, and thrust for his back with her Katana at full power, the psychic energy able to pierce even alchemized materials. Her intent was not to kill though. In the moments she had sprinted toward him she had identified a weak area in his spine. She simply hoped to cripple and cause him enough agony that she could simply force his surrender. Zachariel Steelblood seemed to believe she was alive. Even if her attack failed, Zach could still try to take advantage for what it was worth.

 

[Xzeench]

(Just so you know, this is the last post before the next Plot line next week! Feel free to post your next action!)

The Gray Skull only smiled back, as he watched the pile of Ashes that once was Aravae slowly fly off into the wind. He turned his head toward Zachariel again.

"She's not dead. She's only in a place where she can't cause any more harm. Infact, I don't need either of you to stand in my way."

Blue Lightning sparkled over his hands again as he retrieved a odd looking leather bound book from his pouch. He began to chant something as the air suddenly lost all of its temperature and became freezing cold. The chant on went on for a few seconds before the air around Zachariel began to warp into something not of this Galaxy.

Westenra in all due haste suddenly flipped ahead of Zachariel, thrusting a blade toward the Warriors face, who had not flinched. His hands clasped in prayer. She did get behind him however, sending a cut toward the rather Primitive Power Armor's plasma reactor. Which promptly began a catastrophic meltdown. The reactor fluid leaking all over the back of the Gray Skull's legs, melting straight through the armor and into his bones which caused him to buckle slightly as he finished his chant. The bubble now surrounding all three of them expanding outward. Catching a few Clones and the President's drone in its radius.

In a sudden flash of light. All went black.

​

The light slowly came from the Darkness. Permeating their vision in a deep gray color. The Gray Skull was nowhere to be seen, save for the book he had been carrying which now smoldered against some dull colored rock. The President's drone was utterly trashed and burnt away by some "Energy". The two Other Clones caught within the energy were burnt apart. Their armor ripped open to get to the flesh inside.

​

The field before them, were littered with the remains of a battle of epic proportions. Hundreds of millions of corpses lay strewn about this dilapidated field. Some of the bodies still looked relatively fresh, with limited signs of decay while others have literally been dead for thousands of years. It seems that all that have died in the Catharian Hegemony's wars have been somehow reborn in this place. Or was this a site of a battlefield long since ancient times? Or perhaps was it the legendary site of where the Hegemony died?

The bodies all were of Human or Cathar makeup. Many were Shock Marines wheras others were rather conventional Soldiers. All of which were long since skeletonized.

Some of them were mutated beyond belief. Tentacles, still pulsating organs, and growths. These must of been the Traitors Titus talked about. Traitor Marines. Ones who betrayed the Queen Mother and brought about the destruction of her regime. Perhaps.

The sky was of a dull purplish red color, the air smelled of rust and decay. And no other buildings were in sight save for a single massive building jutting from the Earth and pointing skyward. It mutated and warped by some unknown energy. Westenra could sense signs of life in the distance, though faint and strange.

They were in a different dimension...

Westenra Mina
Zachariel Steelblood

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Growling at the words the Grey Skull spoke, Zachariel opened fire with his assault canon. The fire simply pelted off the Grey Skulls armo, even as Zachariel roared at what was happening. Regardless of what it was, Zachariel knew the only chance to stop it was killing their target. Unfortunately, they didn't manage to do that. As the world went dark, Zachariel could only curse and roar his fury.

Soon enough he found light reaching his eyes, with a roar of fury, Zachariel swung his sword as he finally could see again. The swing hit nothing but air, though it came close to Westenra, seeing as he had been trying to hit the Grey Skull. With a string of curses, Zachariel turned to look about themselves. He idly noted their erstwhile allies death/destruction and easily brushed it aside. Instead, Zachariel focused his attention on their surroundings. What he saw looked like a warzone, both old and new, all combined. Taking note of the corpses he saw, Zachariel compiled a list of things he needed, particularly ammunition and perhaps some new armor.

Turning back to Westenra and the book, Zachariel contemplated shooting it before shaking his head. Moving forward, Zachariel holstered his shield, but kept a firm grip on his assault canon. Picking up the book with care, Zachariel gave it a once over before attaching it to his belt. Then, he moved to reload the massive gun even as he addressed Westenra.
"I hope you realize what an absolute fool you've been. ... You were the cause of death for my prisoners, along with numerous supposed allies. While I could care less for them, I had been looking forward to breaking the Primaris." Growling, Zachariel snapped shut the assault canon, it being fully loaded once more. "On top of that, you charged blindly into their hordes, rather than holding the line. How many more died due to that? I can tell you at least one did, that being the most important ally we had. Aravae."

Zachariels free hand snapped forward then, hand moving to snake around Westenras neck, slowly crushing it to deny her oxygen. If he did succeed in grabbing her neck, he'd also lift her up slightly in the air, just enough that her feet couldn't touch the ground.
"You are the root cause for her capture, the reason for us ending up here." Those words were all but growled out, even as Zachariel tightened his grip, ever closer. Then he suddenly stopped and released her. "You best be glad that you're useful and that I'll need you to get her back, and to get back to where we were."

Turning on his heel, Zachariel marched towards the corpse field, in the general direction of that tower in the distance. Kneeling by some of the dead shock marines, Zachariel began to loot them, taking care to grab grenades, ammo, weapons, and more. Eventually he would grab some armor to replace what had been destroyed in his set. Over his shoulder, Zachariel called out to Westenra.
"Loot the dead, take what you need. My best bet is that tower, only sign of anything here."

Without another word, Zachariel returned his attention back to the corpses and the task of looting. Even as he did so, his mind wandered to dark places, and new and horryfing thoughts raced through his mind. It was the only way he prevented himself from going off and releasing all his rage in an uncontrolled manner. For now though, Zachariel looted and prepared himself for the next step, the next bloody battle, and swore that he would deliver unimaginable horrors upon the Queen Mother.

Xzeench | Westenra Mina
OOC- Woop for more story! I love it all so far, so I think that trend will continue.