Boris'I told you,' Boris growled, spitting blood at his feet. 'It doesn't matter what we believe. We have to try. And it's time you got out of the way.'
As suggested by the narration: rip his head off. Punch his face in. Shut his ugly mouth. BORIS PUNCH. If he relents or surrenders, somehow, just try to knock him out.
Mickaw inclined his head slightly, then charged. He went from a dead stop to a full sprint, leaping into the air to tackle Boris.
Boris wasn't fast enough to catch him out of the air, but he shifted his weight to his back leg and braced into the attack. Mickaw clung to him, his expression still blank to a deranged degree, and both of his hands were ablaze with light. Boris grabbed for the smaller man's head with both arms, but Mickaw caught the blow, grabbing and holding the mech's arms at the wrist. Braced as he was with his feet against the main body of the mech, Mickaw pushed the arms away from him and forced Boris spread eagle. Smoke drifted in thin wisps from the metal around Mickaw's hands as it went from dull cherry to bright yellow. Pain flashed up Boris' arms as blisters began to rise and the smoke took on the stench of meat.
"I am sorry. I don't want to kill you, but there is no oth-"Whatever else Mickaw was saying was lost as Boris body slammed the wall, sandwiching Mickaw between the raw frame of the mining shell and the steel of the Reunion. Mickaw lost his breath explosively at the first impact, but Boris didn't give him the opportunity to get it back. He slammed the wall again, and again. Boris slammed Mickaw into the wall until he felt something pop inside the other man.
Mickaw gasped suddenly, and the heat in Boris' arms began to diminish. Mickaw dropped off the front of the mech, slumping loosely against the wall. There was no corona of energy surrounding his loose hands.
Boris slammed his fist into the other man's chest and began to press, crushing him slowly against the wall. Mickaw scrabbled at the mining rig's fist, but whatever superhuman strength he'd had was gone. He was an ordinary man pushing against Boris' might, which meant he might as well have been a child with a stick fighting a drop marine.
"Please... Don't hold my orders against my men... You have to run... "
KesariGet a feeling on Mickaw before responding alongside the many chat snippets I could take from him and his crew. Kesari has a partial background of military knowhow--what is she currently dealing with?
What is going on on the station that is being received by the Reunion?
Is there any tracking/comm link between Mickaw and Wilcox or otherwise?
Kesari flicked through cameras on the Reunion, basically running through the list of options until she found the one that showed Khate's rather distinctive mech. It gave her a point of reference for where the away team was, and let her expand her search from there. There were two sets of cameras that had been blacked out- one curved along what Kari assumed was the path that Aubrey had taken. The other went along the docks, emerging from the cradle that the parasitized transport had been docked into. It did, however, seem to have a destination that coincided with the away teams current location.
There were bodies along the edge of the second path- various races, outfits, and weapon outfits indicating the remnants of other mercenary crews. In two places there were other bodies, soldiers in heavy, steeply angled armor. Canes or Claws judging by body type. As Kesari watched, a squat machine pushed one of the armored figures onto a stretcher and began dragging it back onto the dark path of blacked out cameras.
In short, the cameras were perceiving an incipient firefight with the away team, and some group carving a bloody trail of destruction towards the away team. The good news was that the second path wasn't filled with nothing but gooified bodies.
As for Mickaw... judging from the feed Kari had on the Reunion security, she was about to be dealing with a serious clean up issue when Boris squished Mickaw into paste. Granted, that might actually be necessary in order to get him to stop attacking, but... Perhaps not. Boris knew a lot about the darker side of people, but it was also possible he'd drunk a little too deeply from that cup himself. It was an idealistic notion to be sure, but perhaps, just perhaps, Mickaw would be willing to give up and at least try it their way now that Boris had assuredly convinced him that he'd die if he resisted.
Or he'd trigger his bomb out of spite. It depended on whether, at heart, Mickaw was just another person trying to live and make their way as a mercenary and scared beyond the limits of anything he understood and was willing to grasp at any thread of hope, or if he was a more hardened and scarred man who would let everyone around him die instead of clinging to what he perceived as an impossible hope.
As for a comm link between Wilcox an Mickaw, it seemed unlikely. The reason they'd gotten this close was ostensibly to make direct snooping impossible. It would be simple to go and hail Wilcox's ship, but Mickaw probably didn't have a direct line open. Not unless he was much more duplicitous than expected.
SadishAction: Now to send the message...somehow!
Sadish sent the message on its way, though without any way to know if it would be received, or what state it would arrive in on the other side.
Which left her on a hospital bed. With nothing to do.
She made a couple mouth popping noises to pass the time. It was harder than it looked. Humans could do it effortlessly, despite the fact they actually had to consciously learn to whistle. Fins, on the other hand, whistled effortlessly and had to learn to make mouth popping noises. It made for an odd cultural divide. There was no such thing as a nonchalant whistle in fin culture, just as there was no such thing as a nonchalant mouth pop in human culture. Sadish was reasonably certain that at least one armed conflict had resulted because of a tragic misunderstanding of mouth pops, but unfortunately her only real piece of evidence was written in a language she didn't understand on a tablet in her lab that she didn't have access to.
Sadish's experimental pops seemed to attract the attention of one of the holographic images of her. It looked at her curiously, the fractured into a dozen very small copies which crowded around Sadish's head making much higher pitched mouth popping noises.
ScarletScarlet tosses a chaos grenade into the balcony containing not-Varkonius and then tries to blind the Fin in the walker temporarily; all of this operating under the assumption that everything erupts into chaos. If not, just be ready to pop anyone who DOES try to shoot at Khate.
When it became readily obvious to Scarlet that Khate was about to charge, an action that she had gotten rather practiced at predicting, she took a running step forward and pitched Boris' grenade up the walkway. She hadn't had enough warning to cook it properly, and it landed on the walkway around where the second floor numbers should begin and began rolling down immediately. One of the mercs even had the presence of mind to try and kick the grenade back off the edge.
Try being the operative part. The grenade popped as soon as his paw touched it, disgorging dozens of smaller spheres with their own independent thrust. Confused gunfire began to erupt as flashbangs, goop bombs, mini EMPs, HE bangers, and tiny nailbombs went off.
Scarlet snapped her aim low, aiming at the head of Wilcox's walker. Actually finding what part was a sensor bulb was difficult, and there would probably be redundancies, but she could take out a good chunk of the Finwalker's vision with a well placed shot. Scarlet dialed the power on her rifle a step past lethal and fired, leaving a scorch mark and a depressingly small furrow on the mech's armor. She'd find out later if the shot had actually been good.
Khate"HE'S COMING FROM THE FAR WALL DEAL'S OFF NO TIME FOR THE STAR GET OUT NOW IF YOU WANT TO LIVE HOSTAGES ARE MIIIIIIIIIINE!"
Dash for the hostages! Get out once they're in my jaws or dead. If Vera's Master gets within kill range (assuming ~20 feet barring evidence otherwise), that counts as already dead.
If there was one advantage that Khate had in nearly every situation, it was surprise. It didn't matter if her opponents knew she was there, were fully aware of her expressed intentions, and were already on high alert- there was just something about the way that Khate acted that made her foes (and her allies) pause while they tried to convince themselves that what they were seeing was actually happening.
Everyone's attention was immediately focused on Khate from the first moment she spoke, but there was a stunned moment where she got to move almost freely before anyone could react. With the shooters on the walkway up to the rooms occupied by Scarlet's grenade, her only major contenders were the shooters behind the counter and Wilcox himself.
Khate hurled herself at the hostages, retracting her mech's teeth and swiping sideways. She grabbed one in her mouth, and the other in one of her suit's auxiliary arms. Both screamed. Khate stopped her pell-mell charge by shoulder checking Wilcox. Despite being utterly fuck-huge, the impact forced him back a step away from the hostages and off Vark's panther. It also let Khate use his body as cover from the Fins, which, considering his size, probably worked better than most mid-size walls.
"Stupid bitch*!" Wilcox roared, pivoting to focus his main guns down on Khate. There was a too long moment where nothing happened. The weapons whined as something inside them charged, but they didn't fire. It wasn't much time, but it was enough for Khate to get traction again, her suit's claws tearing into the floor as she pushed back off and leaped for the door.
She didn't even manage to make it a full body length away before something reached out to snag her suit's back left leg. Khate twisted her head back, trying to see how Wilcox had managed to grab her.
He'd... split somehow. There was the 100% real version of him, staring murderously at her with those very large cannons pointed in her direction, and there was a second image of him that seemed to coexist with his space, and that one had her back leg in a firm grip. The second image of him was slightly pearlescent and faded in and out of reality in places, but it was undeniably solid.
"You dare cross me?!"Varkonius, meanwhile, laced his fingers together as though in prayer. This, unlike most prayers Khate had experience with, caused a number of things to happen quite quickly. One of the rooms near the top of the walkway exploded. The detonation caused the pressure sensors in Khate's suit to clamp shut, and it rolled downwards in a fireball that consumed the rooms below it level by level. The good news was that included the gunners on those floors. The bad news was that Khate was right below that fireball, and she was reasonably certain her hostages weren't fireproof.
A slash in nothing opened immediately in front of the fireball as it descended the column of rooms, the open bore consuming the explosion before it ever reached Khate. Of course, every bore entrance was paired to an exit, the aperture of which formed immediately in front of Varkonius. A twenty foot radius cylinder of fire and explosive energy rammed down through bore and was redirected out of a one foot radius aperture. An aperture pointed directly at Wilcox.
A jetstream of fire and burning debris blasted the real portion of the fin-walker in the side, toppling it sideways and pushing it across the lobby. Khate went with it, the shadow version of Wilcox still locked into her leg. She was able to shield the hostages from the impact of hitting the wall, and the fireburst Vark was channeling was too focused on Wilcox to do more than frazzle their hair.
Of course, that still left her with one leg in the grip of Wilcox's ghost-twin while death itself was still in the process of arriving.
*Actually a worse curse than it once was. Basically it combines the best aspects of standard profanity and a rather virulent racial slur.
AubreyAubrey will keep up preparation of previously discussed countermeasures, and flight.
Aubrey had managed to prevent Khate from getting immediately gunned down, which was a small miracle in and of itself. Granted, the forced self-diagnostic that Wilcox's cannons were currently running would probably only last another six seconds or so, but it was something. The bigger problem was the second image of Wilcox that was holding Khate. Aubrey could feel at it with her implants, but it wasn't encouraging. Metafields were bright and easy to read and interact with -they were essentially just energy projections of very specific micro-geometry- but this didn't feel like a metafield. Rather, it felt exactly like Wilcox, except that Aubrey couldn't get her implants to entangle with the copy. It felt like it should be completely real, like it had its own set of integrated electronics just like Wilcox's real mech did, but she couldn't access it.
As the remaining mercenaries behind the reception desk took aim, both at Khate and at Varkonius, Aubrey made a call.
With the exception of the few fires still burning from polymer based wreckage, the hostel went pitch black as Aubrey killed the lights. Panic fire erupted from behind the reception counter, and bullets struck sparks off every surface. Tagget surged forward to fill the doorway into the hostel, absorbing stray fire.
Bright, wire thin lines appeared and disappeared as Varkonius moved, teleporting to where Wilcox lay fallen. Either the darkness didn't impede him, or he had a hell of a good memory. When he spoke, the comms message was broadwaved, intended for literally everyone- not just Wilcox.
"Don't touch my stuff. Bad things happen to people who touch my stuff."He unclipped something from a thigh holster, a disk slightly larger and thicker than his own palm. It didn't take a mindhack of Aubrey's skill to tell that it was a bomb, likely one designed to blow through heavily armored things exactly like Wilcox.
Wilcox, his primary weapons still out of commission, swung an arm blindly. Aubrey could feel Varkonius open a bore, and she could feel it fizzle out when someone else's interdiction field clamped down over the hostel. Varkonius probably didn't have time to be surprised before Wilcox nailed him in the chest and sent him flying back into the mess of chairs that made up the hostel's breakfast nook. The explosive went flying out of his hands, landing somewhere in the middle of the room.
The doors behind reception opened as Varkonius stood. The lights were still on in the room behind, silhouetting a too-tall Cane with a rainbow coat and a flanking pair of neo-crows in powered armor. The gunners behind the counter stopped firing for a moment and turned quickly to face the Cane.
"Hold your fire, if you would. I have some questions for our friend here."Varkonius picked himself up off the floor slowly. His panther mimed the motion from across the room, slowly limping towards him until he waved a hand to shoo it backward. He was limping, completely in the open, and Aubrey could trace the interdiction field back to both of the crows accompanying the Cane. Talented he might be, but he wasn't going to break through that on a whim.
"I'll happily answer your questions, but you have me at something of a disadvantage."
"I try. Now, you stole something very precious to me, and I'm going to take it back. However, I would like to know how you learned of its existence."
Varkonius crossed his arms over his chest and nodded.
"Okay." The metallic cane arched an eyebrow when Varkonius didn't elaborate. One swift motion from arms of his tech suit had the neo-crows pointing weapons at Varkonius. They each had a pair of turret style weapon mounts on the 'wrist' of their wings. The same type of weapon as wielded by the camouflaged soldier that had used the missile earlier. Regrettably, any such similar missiles were inactive and out of Aubrey's reach.
Varkonius shrugged at the implied threat.
"I said I'd answer questions, but that was a declarative statement. Can't have people saying I'm not a man of my word."Ka-taeun smiled, shaking his angular head.
"Of course, how foolish of me. How did you learn of it?""Fuck you."Ka-taeun's ear flicked, and the crow on his right fired a single shot. It punched straight through the armor on Varkonius' right thigh, sending him down on one knee.
"Boy, you've dabbled into something far larger than you can possibly understand. You can answer my questions fully and completely, then die. Or you can hold out valiantly, be brought back to my ship, and be tortured until you pray for the luxury of death."Varkonius scoffed around a groan of pain.
"Valiantly..."Wilcox mech creaked back upright in the background, the Fin's voice booming out once more.
"You need leverage, Ka, I can make the boy talk." A smaller spinal turret turned to towards Varkonius.
"The Star, where did you hide it?"Varkonius' sneered, but barely had time to open his mouth before Wilcox fired.
The panther jerked as the bullet went through its abdomen, dropping in a thrashing, screaming heap. In the lit doorway, Aubrey watched Ka-taeun's expression go from chagrin to transcendent rage.
"Stop! I left it in goddamn high orbit, I will give you the fucking coordinates, jus-"Ka-taeun threw something before Varkonius finished. It was the size of a grenade and broke into two pieces in midair, two pieces connected by a blazing thread. It struck Wilcox and wrapped around him like a burning belt.
"Do have any idea what you've done?!" He snarled, lips drawn back from multi-hued teeth.
"But, the Star-"
"Is a worthless piece of trash! Worshiped by imbeciles and sought by fools, there is nothing of value in that pitted lump of garbage! One cell of the creature you just injured is worth more than all of your miserable lives!"The burning thread around Wilcox shivered for a moment, then jumped over onto his patchy duplicate before snapping closed. There was a single spurt of pearlescent blood, then the shadow form slid in half an seemed to decay into thin air. Khate was free. The panther had been shot. Wilcox and the colorful Cane's thing seemed to be on thin ice.