GRAKKEN PRISON
—Evening, Exterior—
Keyes and the Guardian, taking momentary solace in cover, assessed their situation and options. Dumbface had a plasma grenade in his possession. Alone, it would do nothing to turn the tide, maybe score a few good kills if lucky... but considering how the armored kid could somehow manipulate plasma...
“If you can amplify it, a well-placed throw could heavily damage the phantom,” Jacob told him. “Not outright destroy it, but it’ll back off, enough to let us move to the exit without so much suppressive fire pinning us down. How’s your throwing arm?”
However, they were interrupted by the presence of a skirmisher as it leaned over the edge of the building they were on. Keyes was quick to notice it, bringing his plasma pistol up to bear and—
The particle beam rifle was faster. Keyes’ movements had spared his life, but the beam tore through his plasma pistol, and subsequently part of his hand. The captain let out a shout in pain and surprise at the fresh hole he’d just been delivered as the skirmisher took aim at the Guardian.
Not that far away, Kazaak had ducked his way into cover behind the adjacent building and emerged to start firing at the various brutes. The nearest of them, the three headed toward JULIAN, were the subject of this from his angle. A bark from the back brute alerted the others, and as the needles compounded toward their chosen target (one of the pulse carbine warriors), he leaped to the side. A portion of the needles curved before missing him, gliding lazily through the air. A few did meet their mark, impacting along the length of his arm. Not enough to supercombine, unfortunately.
The injured brute, and the other also carrying a pulse carbine, broke away from the other two to make a beeline for Kazaaak, firing in return. To make matters worse for the mantis, another skirmisher had focused its attention on him, leaning over the side of the building to fire its particle beam rifle for him.
With Keyes, Kazaaak, and the Guardian out of their way, the three ascending brute warriors were unimpeded in their approach to the shade turrets. However, as the two carrying pulse carbines calmbered into the turrets, a charged plasma shot fired from the entrance to the prison slugged against the leftmost turret. The plasma dispersed, but the secondary effect of an EMP burst. Sparks burst from all around the shade as it powered down before it even had the chance to start firing.
“It came from there!” The spiker-carrying brute pointed toward Copen’s position beyond Grakken prison’s gates. The rightmost shade finished powering up, its brute pilot wedged inside, and he began firing down the path toward Copen. If the gun turrets on the phantom had been bad enough, then this was worse. It fired exactly like those turrets, except it had two barrels to shoot from, doubling the spread and plasma ejected toward its target. It wouldn’t be long before the EMP wore off and the other shade became active as well.
The marines were struggling to hold their own against the oppressive wave of enemies. As Lorens reunited with the others, one of the marines went down to another particle beam rifle shot in the back of his head, collapsing the man to the ground. Lorens, Freid, Bisenti, and the last marine were doing what they could to try and fire back, but they were severely outnumbered and outgunned. Close to the exit, but not close enough. They could see Copen and David, but couldn’t yet reach them, especially as two brutes got in their way, one carrying dual spikers, and the major with his ravager.
A moment later, and two simultaneous rounds of superheated spikes railed onto their position, just as Corporal Freid had been stepping out to lay suppressive fire to try and cover for David. Several spikes rammed into him, striking his shoulder, his bicep, and his chest.
Freid crumpled back without a sound.
The skirmisher David was firing at simply ducked back out of view on the watchtower, avoiding his tungsten spikes with a cawing sound that resembled laughing as the alien mocked him. David, even despite being out of the clear eyesight of the approaching brutes, wasn’t in a good position from the ravager. The brute major who carried it, having assumed the Spaniard was still there, opened fire. The heavy projectiles arched upward then down to splash against the side of the watchtower, burning plasma spattering over the immediate area in an attempt to flush David out of cover and into a clearer line of sight.
The air was heavy with plasma radiation and the stench of burning metal, plenty of wild projectiles sizzling up and over the prison’s walls to disappear into the distance. The firefight was heated and brutal, and didn’t seem to be turning favors any time soon.
Even JULIAN was put on the defensive, leaping over the back of the building, though not before he shot at the skirmisher. Even despite his targeting systems, the alien was just quick enough to avoid a one-shot kill. The particle beam slugged through its shoulder, which it squawked in pain at, but managed to stay upright and keep ahold of its weapon, still firing at JULIAN when he reached the ground.
Out of the range of the gun turret, JULIAN was given a very brief moment of respite, despite the skirmisher standing at the edge of the building to fire at him, sufficiently enraged at the damage it had suffered. The brutes wasted no time, either. The two warriors carrying pulse carbines moved to either corner overlooking JULIAN to lay down suppressive fire, their plasma curving through the air to meet their mark.
He had turned to fire at them, but they hadn’t moved exactly as anticipated. In fact, the major had motioned for the two to move into their positions and lay down any fire they could while he stayed put for a few seconds.
JULIAN’s particle shot would then be forced upon them to try and ease off their assault. A beam that tore through the left brute’s knee, making him drop onto it with a snarl, ceasing his assault for the moment—before the major leaped over the side, dropping to the ground beside JULIAN—and slamming his fist into the earth.
The gathered energy in the gauntlet dispersed into a gravitic wave, a pulse of vague crimson energy expelling outwardly around the major. As the wave passed by JULIAN, it would throw his legs out from under him, briefly pushing him upward into a flip before coming back down.
“Your superiors would like you taken back for parts, machine!” The major mused, rising and turning to face the robot, baring his teeth into a wide and sadistic grin. “They did not specify in what condition...”
Grunt Conscripts: 2 +2
Jackal Raiders: 12
Brute Warriors: 8
Brute Majors: 2
Banished Phantom: 1
