((Seems my post was eaten by the forum. Ah well.))
If the sods are within the optimal range of the claymores at Miyamotos' entrance, detonate one. If they notice me, before I detonate the claymore, detonate both, and open fire on any survivors. Continue bracing self against mindfuckery, for when I have to get out.
They're not in range for claymore-ing, so you decide to just open fire on their big fat flanks.
[con:5+1+1]
You leap out of cover, babbling incoherently, and fire your rifle while charging their position. You empty the magazine into them, killing several before one turns to face you. You realize the folly of your plan about two seconds too late.
[end:4+1]
The Sod shoots several times, the rounds slamming into your chest and stomach and bowling you over. You lay there on the ground, simultaneously praising yourself for the foresight of buying this civic defender longcoat and cursing your stupidity for all these nice fresh broken ribs and possible internal bleeding.
Goddamn useless flesh. Should be reformed. Given armor and reenforced. Blood flow directed to vital areas. Muscle fibres thickened...
Theorize on how to improve squishy flesh.
Cup Holders, clearly. And power windows. Maybe a big screen tv?
Oh, they must be operating on your brain now!
Stay hidden. keep looking/listening/smelling for someone trying to sneak inside. prepare to evade the attack of whichever of my teammates the UE uses the distraction provided by the sods to attempt to mind-control.
Kitty sharpens her psychic claws.
"The box listens, you say? On that end, I have one last question - if you can manage a good enough signal while in the middle of being nearly mind-controlled, can you induce a feedback event with the organochemistry overrider amp aimed back at its user? Or even an overload? I assume from what you've told me that the connection works both ways - if you have access to someone's brain chemistry, they have access to yours as well through the amp, yes? And willpower is simply a matter of being able to communicate with the amp in this case, getting a clear message across and that sort of thing? If so, that would be a pretty decent countermeasure against all these, if you pardon my language, mind-controlling pieces of something not very good and proper."
As Stacy does a robotic spin, he comes up with an idea.
"What does an overload of an organochemistry overrider amp look like, anyway? Is it the basic geyser of flesh and boiling fluids or something more interesting? You don't have to answer that - I'd find this out in VR, but those are locked down right now if I'm not mistaken. Terribly sorry about being so insistent, but I'm simply having trouble being helpful right now and am seeking methods to do so, and conversations with you are always so enlightening. Particularly now that information is permitted to flow more freely and we're not necessarily hunted like dirty witches for researching the space magic we treasure so."
Continue asking, and, since by some presumably divine clerical error I have two extra tokens I was not immediately aware of, rejoice.
"There are buffers to prevent that, but if you seriously out will the other guy then he will feel it. You won't kill him but it's gonna be very unpleasant for him. As per the failures with it...I would recommend staying away from such things. They tend to effect everything organic around them in a very unhealthy fashion. "
Go to where the attack is happening. Enter BT mode and start to kill the soldiers, avoiding friendly fire.
[will:3+2]
[uncon:6]
A flash of black metal tears down the gangway, leaving a trail of holes torn in the metal where sharpened talons pierced in to gain leverage. Halfway down it leaps, rising to the second floor effortlessly and landing amidst the remaining sods. To Renen, everything has practically stopped. He walks through the decimated lines of cloned soldiers, drawing his blade and cutting them down in a single motion before sheathing it and moving on to the next. To those watching from the gangway, that streak of black metal vanishes into a plume of blood that explodes down the length of the sod's line, limbs and whole bisected bodies tumbling out of the windows. It leaps down from the upper floor and bounds into the gangway level one. Gunfire rattles erratically inside for only a few seconds more.
Renen appears again a moment later, calmly striding back out onto the gangway, his black metal carapace drenched in blood and gore, and a trail of shredded bodies and neatly bisected Gauss rounds laying in his wake.
"Never was to fond of most of the place myself. Also, do you know how old the Sword is? Or how long?"
Continue talking to AM.
"It was created during the Altered war and re-purposed for its current use soon after. Subjectively I believe it's over 100 years old. Objectively it's at least 10 times that."
Charles scans the area via turret cam for any additional hostiles, he does not open fire unless necessary.
It seems like The doctor's pupil has very definitively handled the situation.
((Missed a bit))
"On second thought, lets not set the room with no exit on fire."
"Not to mention her." Gorat says pointing at the secretary.
Check Leo's camera drone feed if he allows me (which he did).
I don't need you guys to be bats for that, though, just a N+1st opinion on whether I'm targeting the right spot given what we hear, and a gentle nudge in the right direction. Gorat thinks back.
Unless Leo wants me to work the wall, use the drone camera feed, my hearing, and possibly the ghost nudges to put a small heat sphere into the center of mass of any sods I hear/see.
Str 3; Dex 3; End 3; Cha 5; Int 4; Wil 12//Spe 0; Int 1; Han 0 (-1); Con 1; Unc 0; Exo 8; Aux 1 (+1); Med 0
Mk II Suit; Microwave PK Amp; laser rifle: normal cigarettes; blue smokes; datapad (with platformer shooter); nanoghosts; shock trigger (with Jack for this mission)
Appearance: 5'11'', 170 pounds in a rather unmuscular frame, shoulder-long brown hair, short goatee, brown eyes, a rather long chin that earned him his nickname. Age 32
Half a robot foot. Robot right arm.
The sounds you where hearing were very quickly replaced by rather distressing squishing and oozing noises.
You wonder if this whole "Tunneling out" this is really necessary any more.
....I should go be a medic while I wait...
Check my drone cameras.
If Steve returns and gets the data, ask for the flight computer and head back to the blackship.
Otherwise, head to the gangway, staying in cover, and aid anyone wounded. If no one is wounded, give Pan a quick check to make sure he's doing fine after playing Neo.
You go grab Morul, who is whining over the radio about how much his bullet wounds hurt. You drag him back to the infirmary.
((Well, looks like I finally did something useful for a change.))
"Enemy combatants: greatly reduced. Structural damage: severe. Final grade: B- acceptable."
"Nice work, I can totally see why they chose you for the black ops stealth team."
Pancaek sits against the metal wall, and weakly holds up a fist in the air for a moment.
"Step one, to crush my enemies, done...Please tell me someone recorded that."
Stay in cover and rest. Get a feel for how bad my brain hurts.
You stay in cover, face down, barely conscious.
Brain hurt levels: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Actually I was just really busy and this post, because of it's large number of players, takes a while to do. I couldn't get it done in the morning and thing that night I was just too tired. I fell asleep doing it. Sorry about that. Mondays and Wednesdays are quite busy days for me.
((Don't worry, it's fine. ^_^
We'd much rather have you take an unscheduled break every now and then, than have you always on time before suddenly disappearing for months due to some kind of health issue. Or disrepair and lack of proper maintenance, whichever applies. 
))
"Твою же нах...!!!"
Anton almost lunges for the exit at the sound of the building breaking behind him. He stands up in alarm and looks around for impending structural collapse.
When it doesn't occur, he risks a peek into the concourse, Gauss Rifle first.
"That sure sounded like HMRC actions. I think next time I estimate lines of friendly fire, I'll have to consider concrete buidings "light cover". Sheesh."
Carefully leave cover, scanning surroundings for enemies, and advance into the (remains of the) concourse as situation permits. Assume any Sod-like individual in vicinity to be an enemy. Use gauss rifle to dispatch any enemies in sight.
You carefully walk back toward the gangway. The area around the gangway entrance is a goddamn abattoir: the hulking Adonis like bodies of the Sods have been shredded and hacked to pieces, filling the hall with a pool of blood, bile, organs and offal. And there's so much of it upstairs that it's dripping down through the broken windows and raining steaming blood onto the gangway.
BE DEJECTED. Then go back to the gangway and get in cover. Hope someone gets into melee range. Then with the amp-punching.
((Y'know I woulda thought the AM woulda appreciated someone to talk to other then...Stacy....even if said person had an odd request 
But yeah, as I said earlier, it is REALLY hard to pull my own weight when all the battles are over before they get within range of my only weapon XD))
I'd say that Hawking needs to invent the retarded murder charge but it seems Morul has beat him to the punch.
(Holy shit, I was actually useful!)
alright,if there are no allies in sight, go for 180 sweeps of my laser thing in front of me, if there are allies. In front of me, hunker down and don't do anything.
You slowly come to grips with the fact that the robot thing you were tagging along with for a while appears to be the equivalent a cyborg jason vorhees with bullet time powers. That and the sight of more blood and gore then you've ever seen before.
"Oh come on," Theodore muttered under his breath. One of his rules was to assume that if you couldn't tell if you hit something, then you didn't. "Must be more out of it then I thought." He muttered. He noticed the wall of shrapnel flying back at the enemy. "Well whoever was doing that did something right."
Fire towards anything still shooting at the group.
((Nice job Pancaek))
....Do spurts of arterial blood count?
(So no sods on this floor, then?)
Give Gorat backup with grenades and/or my gauss rifle.
"One more turn, then we start doing cleanup. Okay?"
"Gonna need a mop. Gonna need a big mop."Awaken!
You wake up.
All the colors in the world are inverted.
"I NEED TO BE DEGAUSSED!"
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