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The Cykablyattest of them all!
July 14, 2170 Earth Date

Down in Calegor, Siguria, there was no sunshine.

Not literally, seeing as there were still the system's twin suns lurking above the horizon, but the atmosphere was dim. The Vantt have come for the outer rim colonies for whatever reason, and the United Earth Pact have all packed up and left. Even the local embassy and administration workers were left behind in the secret mass exodus that took place months before the cat was let out of the bag. Everyone felt cheated, betrayed, left to die.

A good place for a revolutionary fire to spark.

What better place to light a fire, than in a powder keg? Wait no, don't quote me on that. But still, the people were looking to rebel against these Vantt, who have just arrived here a month ago after casually taking Valissia, and already there have been numerous arrests and even violent protests. Blood has been spilled on human soil, but the news and mainstream media have all been suppressed under Vantt rule.

Many militia groups have popped up all over the place, of all types and sorts. Some were fighting for humanitarian rights, others were fighting for human-Vantt equality for some reason, others had their own motives and agendas mixed in with the cause, but the gist of it was clear: The Vantt needed to f-off. Within the colony-city of Calegor, two major groups stood out from the rest: the 'Red Knives' group, who have been organizing the violent protests, and the 'Bush Wolves', who fought for paramilitary control of the colony.

Of the latter, there was one particular meeting happening down at the Aiden District. In a bar named Som Yislee, a group of dashing young and old cretins have gathered around for another Bush Wolves meeting. They were to unveil a plan for the start of a glorious offensive to finally begin retaking Siguria, and the Ragnarok Sector as a whole. Too bad the Vantt beat them to the punch.

Vantt military forces, as well as police forces have showed up at the bar. The ape-like aliens had an arrest warrant for everyone within the establishment, or so the police megaphones hollered, before bullets started flying. Well, plasma bolts and laser beams, but there were bullets afterward, as the Bush Wolves started retaliating. And so the fight begins.

Have fun.


The Cykablyattest of them all!

Well, that was a pleasant surprise.

I swear, hon', it wasn't my fault, it all just happened so fast, one thing led to another, and we just ended up in this mess. For example, knocking led to Vantt grunts kicking down the door, push came to shove, and then subsequently came to stabbing one of them in the throat and throwing it over the counter into the stack of beverages, before narrowly dodging a laspistol shot from its buddy and then doing an uncalculated surprise incision into its iris with a knife. Completely by accident, I swear.

Goddamn xenos. The rest of the bar devolved into a quick bout of gunfire where the remainder of the Vantt police forces got ripped apart by a mixed array of human weaponry. Some guy whipped out a fuckin' Mosin-Nagant rifle, believe it or not, went in one Vantt and out another. It was weird shit. But all the ruckus meant that the military boys outside would put on their war face now. And none of us were actually prepared for a toe-to-toe fight with the alien boys.

Especially when one of their heavy plasma cannons put a hole in the beautifully decorated high-stakes table, letting in a lot more sunlight into Som Yislee than intended. Three Bush Wolves fighters were caught in the blast, and judging by the amount of red stuff on the floor, they're not getting up anytime soon. Everyone sprung into action, taking up defensive positions. If we were any less experienced, then we would've thrown up at the sight of the dead and surrendered, but Bush Wolves know better. Go Bush Wolves.

Swinging out my rifle, I let off three rounds out the crater, narrowly missing a Vantt trooper, before taking cover behind the bartender's little oasis thing in the middle of the room. Much like the Mos Eisley cantina that the bar was modeled after (even the name is an in-joke of it), this meant I was kinda isolated in terms of potential cover I can get to. But everyone else was covered more or less behind the comfy little doorless room things.

The battle was quickly heating up. I sounded off. "Everyone, battle stations! The Vantt like to play rough, we'll give them rough! All guns, tally ho! Woo!"


I had been across the street, well moreso a street down I guess, back end of the bar. I saw the Vantt entering, which was never good, most of the time. And soon enough, there were gunshots. And the military. And more gunshots. I sighed, I guess they did find the Bush Wolves or something. Hopefully the get what for without losing too much. A plasma shot rips through the wall, and now I could actually see in among the dust. It wasn't looking good. I did have my magnum on me, but no protection what so ever. I stood still, out of the line of fire, debating my next move.


Alexander was mid sentence talking to some of the boys that are responsible for acquiring materials to patch up there ships when they kicked down the door. Vantt cops charged the room only to meet Captain Pryce's knife. Next moment they where getting shot at from there actual main military force from outside, as laser rounds where tearing holes into the little bar they had dug into, light started pouring in , mainly, the big one from the plasma cannon.
Pulling himself together Alex dropped a heavy table in the far corner for some cover and kept his head down. Every so often he would pop up and let a couple shells fly before ducking back down again.
"Bloody hell" he said to himself, barely audible over the gun fighting "I just wanted a damn drink too..."
'Tally ho!' was yelled somewhere as Captain Pryce started letting rounds fly from his rifle. It was at this point he was very grateful there where people in the Bush Wolves that actually knew how to fight.


David MacGregor

The meeting certainly was not going as well as expected. Sure, the informant did show up, and plans were laid out for the Wolves' major offensive - the ultimate culmination of their hard-work the past few months. Talks and discussion for the acquisition of the much-needed resources were well-underway as well. But then the Vantt cops popped up from nowhere, and before David had time to figure who exactly fired the first shot, Som Yislee's humble interior lit up with hails and plasma pulses and muzzle fire from various human firearms. To make things worse still, from the looks of it, they brought an anti-tank gun, or something of large caliber, as a bright blast came thundering in and left a red hot crater where it hit the floor, as well as various charred, smoking corpses. Something wasn't right, it all seemed too... coincident that the Vantts suddenly found them like this. David's eyes unconsciously panned towards the burned bodies as paranoia surged his mind. They were alive mere moments ago, comrades, usual customers; Even the surprised look on their faces looked somewhat alive, if not for the burned skin. "Enough of this." David snapped, as he leaned onto the wall he was taking cover by, trying to divert his attention from the dead to the very urgent threat.

David consciously went through the manuals he was taught the day he signed up with the Bush Wolves, and found the instructions for their situation: When safe-house is busted, proceed to destroy all documents and evidences. That'd be his priority then. Poking out of his cover to fire a few shots out of the bar, David noticed that the firefight had come to something of a stalemate, with Vantt troopers pinned and unable to make significant advances thanks to the firepower him and his comrades were pouring on them. Bush Wolves know how to fight. Go Bush Wolves.

That said, the aliens did bring some heavy ordnance to the show, meaning they have firepower superiority, and his group was sitting duck. That means sooner or later the people inside the bar will be flushed out, or doomed should they remain there. But that was a problem for later, now the priority first: destroy the documents.

"Pryce, Foster, lay down suppressive fire!" - David yelled out from his cover.

"What the hell do you think I'm doing, you - !" - The latter shouted back, with a mix of overexcitement and panic in his rather short response, as the rest was drown out by a staccato of Daniel Foster's machine gun fire. The man had made himself comfy in a makeshift machine-gun nest from the bar top, covering the entrance of Som Yislee.

David made a dash for it, almost tripping over one of the knocked over bar stools, before hopping over the bar top and landed right inside the bartender's oasis, where he found his brother, Josef, sitting by a few boxes of munition for the machine gun while several of his employees hastily stacked up sandbags onto the bar top to reinforce their little 'bunker'. Josef snickered in between his breaths.

"Look what the bastards have done to our pub!"

"...Always told you to look into insurance for the place..." - David said in reply, as he lifted up a concealed hatch and slid down into the equally humble basement underneath Som Yinslee, where he was welcomed by panicked voices from a radio.

"O.P. 5! The xenos are attacking in force! Hold fast and await further orders!"

"This is O.P. 6! Is anyone receiving, over! We're pinned in the church! What?! They're inside, they're inside the church - !"

O.P - Operation Posts were various safe-houses, or just shady corners that manage to avoid too much attention from the Vantts. The panicked voices spoke over one another, before the transmission became little more than nonsensical shouting. A calm, stern voice appeared to drown them all out.

"All receiving units, proceed with appropriate extraction. Get out of the town immediately! We're being overrun!"

Paranoia reemerged in David. How the hell were they found? Have the Vantts cracked their communications? No, it's impossible, their communication was intentionally a blueprint copy of the ancient SINCGARS - Single Channel Ground And Airborne Radio System - designed to operate on a low-profile channel to prevent exactly this danger. And knowing the Vantts' general unappreciation and disinterest in primitive technologies, it'd be overlooked by them anyways. So how exactly did this happen?!

David cut himself off. There was no point panicking now, clear instruction was given: They were to escape from Som Yislee and somehow - hopefully - lose the xenos in the favelas of Aiden District, so that they can get out of Calegor. David got to work and rigged some wireless explosives around the supports of the basement, before dashing upstairs again, yelling out to everyone.

"Hey guys! Things sound really crooked on the radio, they say we oughta get out!"

Interacting: @Kabboom @Blacknife + Everyone in the bar
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New Member
The start of Connor’s shift had been normal enough, bring up the keg from the cellar, wipe down the tables, and try not to scowl at the customers. This last instruction was the hardest to accomplish as the drunks kept getting in his way. It wasn’t that he necessarily disliked the customers, not usually anyway, but tonight they were nothing more than a distraction. Tonight there was a Bush Wolves meeting happening in the bar, and while they didn’t trust Connor with things like planning and logistics, he could still listen in between the customers and whatever menial tasks Josef had for him.

Connor knew he should be more grateful for the job the MacGregor’s had given him, after all if he wasn’t working there he would be out somewhere in a gas field waiting to be blown up like his parents. Still, he was chomping at the bit for the Bush Wolves to make their next move so he could get back out here and do the real work, toppling the Vantt empire. He hadn’t been part of the rebellion very long and hadn’t been recruited because his military prowess. He had simply been walking by during one of their skirmishes with the Vantt and had picked up a fallen rebel’s gun and started firing. They asked if he wanted to join them after that. Well, once he had finished throwing up his dinner that is.

Now all Connor could do was keep his ears open as he walked around the bar bussing tables and try to figure out what their next move was going to be. He was so distracted, he barely had time to process that they were being attacked before the head of the man standing beside him exploded in a generous spray of skull fragments and brain matter. His barretta was halfway out of his waistband by the time the corpse beside him collapsed to the floor. He quickly shoved the image of the headless man to the back of his mind, plenty of time to repress that later, and dove for the nearest source of cover. He landed in one of the booths lining the room and pressed himself flat against the wall, checking his weapon over and taking it off safe.

Connor was careful to conserve his ammo as he fired into the lobby, he only had two clips on him and he didn’t relish the thought of running through gunfire to reload. So he did his best to aim every shot each time he ducked out from behind his cover, locking onto the nearest Vantt and firing. With all the return fire from the rebels, it didn’t take long for the Vantt to slow their onslaught, giving time for Connor to switch to his second clip.

After what felt like an eternity, Connor could hear David calling out some intel from the bar. It wasn’t the most uplifting news to hear they were fucked and needed to run, but hey, it was halfway to a plan at least. “We’re surrounded, which way are we headed?!” Connor called out, aiming another shot at the Vantt in the doorway. “Does anyone have eyes on the street?” He asked, quickly glancing around the bar to see what everyone’s status was and trying to avoid looking at the corpses.



The Cykablyattest of them all!

The chattering of gunfire barked through the Aiden District, forcing everyone with half a neuron in their brains to run away from all the bloodshed. The actual normal customers of the Som Yislee were evacuating in a disorderly manner, trying unsuccessfully to dodge all the kill-beams from outside. A fair few of them took cover behind the same bartender's oasis thing I was staying behind, which made it hard to maneuver since there are panicked youngsters in my cover spot. With a bark and flick of the wrist, I directed them to the back exit, before ripping off another few bursts of AR-15 out through the front door, clocking two Vantt grunts who were moving in. A few more rounds meant the slumped over aliens' friends stayed outside.

Some greenie had yelled out things that sounded a bit like 'this is getting a bit too much for us to handle, if I may, we should take a bow and make for the street behind us', which was absolute nonsense. "The street? Hell yeah I got eyes on, it's right in front of us! Keep firing ya dreg heaps! Don't let 'em get another shot off!" I hollered to everyone within earshot, and for just a brief second, our bullet output seemed to increase. Brings a tear to my eye.

"Foster, nail those betches at the entrance! Alex, plant the bleemin' charges, we're bouta pull! Davo, get the damn trucks here first! We'll get out when the charges are done!" I proceeded to bark orders while loading a fresh magazine in. That engineer better be worth his salt, or else they're gonna have to stay here much longer.

@KomradeTrappy @Tempo @Blacknife


Alex let out a frustrated sigh as he hit his head against his cover table.
"Yes sir!" he yelled back before pulling his backpack of his back and ruffling through it.
'Plant the charges?' he thought to himself 'In the middle of a gun fight?! Sure! let me get up and plant them around im sure they would wait until i was done'
He pulled five brick sized parcels out and started wiring them up with little metal igniters that had two prongs attached to them that he stuck into the bricks.
Popping his head above the table resulted in some hardcore and very precise weapons fire so he decided to keep his head down.
'How the fuck...' he started to think to himself before the most technologically advanced solution came to his mind.
Duct tape.
Not just any duct tape, industrial-grade mining duct tape.
Wrapping the small packed explosives in the worlds stickiest tape wasn't easy but after doing it to all of them he sat back and began throwing them around the room, mainly, towards the roof.
Once this was done he pulled the detonator out of his bag. The small black box had two little switches that said 'Arm' under them and a big red button in the center. Turing towards the center of the room he yelled at Captain Pryce "Captain! Flick both the arming switches then hit the big red button! Preferably once we are out of the room!"
Before tossing the detonator over to him.



David MacGregor

A hail of plasma pulses blasted their way into the bar as if a reminder to the rebels, who were trying to destroy leads and evidences, that the Vantts were still there. A couple unfortunate few were blasted at least a meter back with a smoking, charring black gap where their torso should be, while the rest scrambled into cover. David wasn't an exception. Broken glasswares and bottles came raining down the young man and his fellows hiding in the bartender's oasis. He would occasionally crouch up to fire his weapon at the xenos, dropping some overconfident Vantts who charged as they thought they could break through the human defence.
Finally, David yelled his response to Pryce as he loaded a fresh magazine into the rifle.
"Get the trucks here? Oh I think not. Don't you see how many of them are out there?! We can't risk that - Shit!"

David's reply was cut short as a plasma pulse sent the entire shelf along with its content down on the three cowering men. David cursed in annoyance as the other two got back to their firing position and resumed pouring lead at the aliens outside. There was one thing he wasn't complaining about though - there were alcohol in the air, from all the broken bottles, kegs and whatnot. It smelled rich, like a nice brandy.
"We can try the backdoor!" He resumed.

The other side of the slum, Aiden District, Calegor.

Maria Beauclair

"Oh this ain't good..." Maria mumbled to herself as she turned the truck around a corner and onto a larger road. Smokes were visible in the horizon, while gunfire and energy weapon discharges echo across Aiden District in a melody of chaos. There were occasional explosions too. Somehow resistance cells in the area were being cracked down by the Vantts - Maria managed to make out that much from the chaotic transmission on her radio. Things weren't good, but she couldn't afford to look weak and panicked now, there were still duty to be done. The rebels were still fighting on, as evident by the battle sounds in the distance, and as long as they remain defiant and focused, they shall prevail, and everything will be fine.


Maria turned over to the man sitting beside her, a middle-aged man named Karl, who was assigned as her security detail on this trip, looking for some reassurance. The girl received none, only a reminder to keep her eyes on the road. That she did, silently telling herself to keep her composure. Their previous task had been abandoned, and now they repurposed to be part of the extraction unit in an emergency scenario, which composed of several vehicles tasked to take the rebels out of town via designated routes. She'd heard that they utilised various routes for this operation to prevent the xenos' tracking. After all, roads didn't matter that much. Siguria was the stage for a grand revolution, and so, 'all roads lead to Rome.'

Anyhow, they were finally at the extraction point. It was a small, vacant parking lot as they weren't looking for attention. Now it's just the waiting game and secure the point until those rebels get here. Maria left Karl on the watch as she crawled into the cargo compartment at the back of the truck. They were apparently authorised to use the 'cargo' in this state of emergency to aid their operation, courtesy of the high-ups. With a few clicks on the tablet, the girl stood in awe as the container opened itself to reveal some sort automaton. It was painted in a uniform black, and insignias indicated that it was some UEP relic.
But enough admiring, good looks wasn't gonna save them. Maria quickly got to work, and with a swipe on her tablet, initiated the necessary steps to activate the machine. She hoped that it was just as serious a threat as it looked.
"Rise and shine, big guy."

Interacted: @Specialist


I had two equally strong feelings in me. Very common ones at that. Fight or flight. I wanted to help, but also didn't have all my gear. So I chose to get away, help them another time. Only when I turned around, a truck came barreling by, almost hitting me and probably killing me. I did a spin, watching it pull off into a nearby lot. Very convenient timing is it not? I figured I knew what it was for, and with that I made my way to that lot. Hopefully unnoticed, trying to blend in with the other fleeing civilians.


Junior Member
The tablet was quick to interface with the UEP console connecting the unit to the automation. With a scroll of machine-stenciled digital text, the terminal became unlocked and scrolled a plethora of letters vertically down along the tablet's interface. She'd hacked right in successfully.





!ATT: Authorization Code 2wf3ckq44930AB23 ACCEPTED. WELCOME, CMDR. [CARTER, ADAM]

The container's plexiglass frame displaying the unit finally lifted just as the head tilted upward; two vertically placed cobalt blue lights seemed to activate in place of the mechanized automaton's eyes. Several moderate pops and whirrs emitted lightly from the legs and arms of the robot's head once again twitched with a pop of its own, then looked downward with a whisper-quiet whirr of hydraulics. In a gruff, deep Southern voice, ATLAS finally spoke. "Greetins', Miss. I am Advanced Tactical Lightweight Assau- Hol' up. Where's your UEP uniform?" From the immedeate recognization of the woman's lack of military attire, it was safe to assume that whatever matrix powered the AI housed within was more advanced than the standard security droids that populated the UEP planets. You know, before the goddamn Aliens showed up.

With a smooth, heavy step, ATLAS moved out of his container housing as something clung behind the tall automaton. ATLAS's head never left the woman's form as what could only be percieved as direct eye contact was made by the robot's unflickering blue LED dots. "Who are you. You sure as Hell don't look like UEP." Something didn't add up, it seemed. Although UEP built the damned thing, they didn't even seem to ever deploy it from where it was originally manufactured. @KomradeTrappy


The Cykablyattest of them all!

The slight wafting of brandy mixed with vodquilas added to the flavor of the fight. A few Vantts started firing blindly through the entrances, with some beams contacting the slick alcohol on the ground, vaporizing parts of them in an instant. The musk of mixed beverages either made the feelings worse or better, as I squeezed the trigger and snapped a few... fingers? tendrils? off of one of the soldiers firing in from the unhinged bar door, making it recoil back into cover. Another lasgun shot snapped close to where my head would've been if I didn't move, splattering a bottle of whiskey on its path, before splashing against the bar's back wall.

It had been a costly fight so far, and the Vantts didn't even make it inside yet. Taking the small time of reloading to take in the surroundings, I evaluated and shit. And shit it was. We were down to roughly 16 men, if my hearing isn't bamboozling me. We started with at least 25 men, and judging by the amount of bodies on the ground, I'd say half of the non-rebel customers got waxed in the firefight as well. In the right corner of my eye, I could see a glimmer of steel, which turned out to be the white-polished bolt of an antique rifle, slumped in the corner of the room. I guess Mosin dude didn't make it after all.

As for the enemy forces, I can't see shit. But I could take a guess. Our informants on the Eevok District were solid with their intel, but probably weren't worth the money we paid them for. These Vantts didn't have those bullet-absorbent armor plates on, which explains why they're hesitating. This rules out the potential of them being just a passerby patrol, since those guys got all types of shields on them. They had lasguns, all right - thin rifle-looking weapons that emit long beams of white lasers - and also with a plasma heavy cannon, but judging by the long interval between the shots, they either have those handheld tube launchers, or their armored personnel carrier gunners were holding back with their shots. Maybe they're here to take us alive? But if they know we're rebels, wouldn't they have a better plan, maybe started it out with some tear gas into the bar and not with those hotshot police officers I knifed down? Also, why would they not wear the armor plates? Did they underestimate our weapon capacity? Or are they just holding us back, for...

My ears finally picked up a faint whirring atop all the still-ensuing gunfire. It sounded like a mosquito, if said mosquito also played a saxophone note every two seconds. Next, a resounding blast took off a quarter of the roof, hailing rubble onto the two frontmost men, squashing them beneath concrete. The remainder of us lost all will to resume fighting after what we saw. All I heard next was some dude screaming out the damned thing's nickname before another plasma pulse from the thing knocked me out for a sec.

The Squid. Obviously, we call it that because it was almost like a squid, minus the part where it hovers and flies in the air, is actually fucking huge, with some of the larger Squids being bigger than a double-decker bus, and I definitely don't remember the part where it was covered head-to-toe in alien armor and had a battery of plasma cannons on its face. The one we were facing was one of the medium-sized ones, probably the size of an average sedan, and it looked pissed, with two red camera lights scanning our positions, and six green-hot plasma cannon barrels staring down our souls.

I came to with a weight on my back. There was blood on the floor, but the warm fuzzy feeling didn't come from my body. With a heave, I lifted off the weight, which turned out to be the shrapnel-splattered and burnt crisp of a corpse that got hit by the blast. I think it's the same guy who yelled out the thing's name, maybe. The Vantts outside have stopped firing, and have instead begun moving in, as the Squid descended through the hole in the wall, gracefully landing on the floor in a way that I was damn sure had to be biological. One booming word echoed from its speaker system somewhere, in some pre-recorded voice. "Surrender."

We were damn near about to do just that, mind you, but thankfully some absolute legend did something that I will remember as long as I live. A bottle of something smashed against the thing's red camera eyes, making them look away from me. The Squid looked just as confused and startled as the Vantt, when a raspy voice cried out from the inner rooms. "Eat my ass!" the legendary rebel cried as he hurled a burning molotov cocktail at the thing, replied in kind as a plasma pulse obliterated him. The bottle splashed against the alcohol, and an explosion erupted, knocking me back and managing to throw Davo over the waist-high bartender oasis. That legend, god rest him, definitely had too much Jetfrig mix in that cocktail.

The explosive distraction was enough to make the Squid recoil, letting off a second pulse that sailed over our heads and out the back door, blowing a decent hole into the rear end of the building that stood behind our bar. I could hear mechanical whirring as the Squid stumbled backwards, and some Vantt screaming and order-shouting. This was it. Our time.

"Get the fuck outta here!!!" I yelled to everyone, as I grabbed Davo up on his feet and dragged him by the collar to the back door, firing off a few stray rounds back in the general direction of the aliens. After a few meager steps that felt like they were miles long, we made it out of the bar, into the claustrophobic back end of Som Yislee. Slamming MacGregor against a wall, I pulled out the detonator, flicked both its arming switches on, and smashed the red button so hard it almost fell off. A resounding explosion sounded off inside the bar, as, well... the bar went down. Sorry, MacGregors.

Most of the fellas could hear me, however, and minus the ones that got cut down by lasguns as they made a break for it, everyone made it out. I couldn't hear or see it, but the Squid got hurt bad by the debris, and all the Vantt that were inside probably got smushed as well. The building with a hole in it was apparently some guy's house, judging by the upturned furniture and panicked shouting. Beyond that is the slums, I think, and beyond that was our exfil. Goddamn.

"Alright, it's not over yet! Keep going, through that hole!" I barked at the rebel survivors, ignoring the cowering customers hiding in the corner of the bar's rear alley. Daniel Foster and his machine gun thankfully got out alive, but probably not unscathed, as he slammed down on the dirt next to me. The bloke hopped out the windows when the order to retreat went out, the mad lad. With a finger-directed order from me, we both consolidated at the bar's back door, and begun firing back inside. This should buy the others time to run through.

@Specialist @LoneSniper87 @Blacknife @Sushi Muncher @KomradeTrappy @Tempo @Cyberchaun @ElectricPizza

Sushi Muncher

70 yo aircraft carrier. Perfectly Legal!

Sigurian Diplomacy

Jack Kronauer
Contraband Broker
Bush Wolves Resistance Group
Aiden District, Siguria

Tags: @Kabboom
Interaction: Everyone on radio (too shy to tag all)

The corridor was filled with small chatters of passerbys and other dwellers of Siguria. Aiden was not known for its hospitality, but have fostered a multitude of interesting characters throughout the decades. Should one require affordable services and goods, Aiden forever stood as a open market for said subjects, and perhaps more. As the day wears away the urgency of those that tread the markets, two individuals have settled well within the corner of the arched hallway. One man in his suit and hat fell back against his chair, poised by his Sigurian coffee and cigarette, have already made himself comfortable in contrast of his associate, of whom had broken the truce of silence with his clamorous tone.

"Yeah well, I'mma need you to double my pay. Half upfront, and the other half when we're done."

"You've got to be shitting me. That wasn't the deal, Krieger."

"Well, the deal's got a new situation, Jack, and I'm calling it in."

"Color me blind here. But does your deal comes with Vantts enforcers? Let's cut the crap, bud. How long have you been in their pockets?"

A stern stare-down ensued between the two, as Jack's grin and confident face only serve to further Krieger's haste. Jack's revelation of the Vantt enforcers only escalate their hasty arrival towards the two.

"You're an old man, Jack. Look around you, its a whole new world. The aliens are my insurance outta here. Aiden's no longer the place it used to be, and it needs change. Be the rational change, Jack."

"Yeah, well, that doesn't fly with me, Krieger. I like Aiden the way it is. You either call off those lil' fuckers, or believe me when I say this, you are officially out of the club."

A brief moment of silence would follow, as the air was filled with karmotrine and tobacco. Jack eyed the extraterrestrial figures, as they entered the room, bent on destruction with their weapons in hands and the deadly tension that followed.

"All you have to do is say the magic word, my friend."

"I must respectfully fold this... TURN!"

Flipping the table, Jack unsheathed a carbine from underneath the table and let off a few round, as his associate fell to the ground lifelessly. A few flashes of colorful tracers were exchanged, slowly eroding the Sigurian's cover, as he threw a grenade into the crowd of Vantts enforcers. As they hurl themselves into cover, the man made his escape, breaking through the window, before legging it across the slums's lower district. The grenade did not go off, as the enforcers recovered from their acts and made haste to continue their pursuit of the man.

"Top-grade grenades from UEP, he said. Double your pay, my ass." Jack mumbled to himself angrily, as he reloaded his rifle and tucked it inside his coat, slowly walking among the crowd, in hopes of not raising any suspicions of his presence.

Before long, a few explosions and gunfire in the background had diverted much attention of his pursuer's leave, towards the bar on the far side of the district. It was where the Wolves' meeting was supposed to take place. It was initially a decent place to set up for a meeting, at least Jack thought so, in compliance to his other commitments. While his associates were to get together, Jack was supposed to secure their auxiliary weapons cache around Aiden. It was a well-thought out division of labor, at least on paper, until recently when he was double-crossed by Krieger. The man have had qualms working with him for some time, but the question only begs to differ when the Vantts had shown up armed to the teeth. As he pace himself towards the far side of the skirmish, Jack kept his thoughts to himself, and relinquish himself of the recent betrayal sentiments.

"It was only a matter of time before they'd be caught in the fire. If Krieger's in on the tip-off, then there might be others. I gotta find some higher ground. I sure hope the Wolves got an escape plan, because I sure as hell don't."

The last thing Jack had to worry about was his capture. It was rather a minor inconvenience to him, than to most. But as it stands, the man still had his pride and unfinished business with the Bush Wolves, and those that stood in his way would only hinder his work. To the man of his not-so-earnest background, it was within reasons for him to tag along with the Wolves, since the embargo on Aiden, as well as his personal bias of interests for his associates. It has only been a few years since they've been cuddling up as partners, but Jack was rather reluctant to let the group go down in vain. At least, that was what he told himself, revering his own interests as a saint, but like many others with common sense, Jack wanted to know who was responsible for the group's exposure, despite their given refuge in Siguria, among the other dark secrets that evaded his understanding.

Breaking from his thoughts, the man made haste and quickly prone above one of the rooftop balcony, where a pair of rebel corpses laid cold to the cracking noises of their transmitting radio. Without much thought, the man rerouted the radio and began transmitting, amidst the gunfire in the background.

"All Wolves, this net. This is Jack, your friendly arms dealer. Be advised, I've been tipped off by Krieger. Break. Locations of our auxiliary weapon caches are forfeit. Recommend you guys move your asses now, because I am seeing a shit ton of angry aliens swarming your way from the western approach. Providing cover fire from the rooftop, but that'll cost ya fifty credits. Haha. Over and out."

Jack laid down on his belly, albeit much to his disdain, out of concerns for his brand new suit, now covered in blood and mossy dirt. This was a minor inconvenience to his perception, as he now redirected his focus towards the battlefield. Brushing off the sweat on his brow, the man mustered up most of his strengths to pile up the bodies against the balcony's ledge.

"Let's give you sons of bitches a taste of the Sigurian Diplomacy."

Squeezing the dead rebels' rifle in between the crevice of the balcony and their lifeless body, Jack began letting off a few rounds towards the concentrated forces outside of the bar. It was a cruel, but effective way to provide cover fire using his dead comrades' corpses as a flash hider and cover. Although the man was not skilled in arts of marksmanship, his rounds were well-trained on his targets, slowing down as many as he can, before his rifle had a meltdown due to the constant long bursts. The man salvaged a hand-held receiver, before crawling backwards away from the ground's incoming fire. He was glad to still be in one piece, and put up a grin as he crawls from room to room under the enemy's heavy fire.

Translation Notes:

Titular Reception of Ragnarok Annexation (Article)

"... the citizens of Ragnarok are not be perceived as forgotten nor abandoned. For they now stand on the verge of greatness. A baptism of fire and ice, in the face of adversity. The UEP have yet to give up on her people, but these are trying times, and sacrifices must be made for the greater good of humanity throughout the galaxy. We have taken a step back, so that we may move ahead two steps into the future..."



Pinnacle of Human Evolution
The automaton perked it's head. "Bullets." He said in a low resonating machine-like tone. He began to sprint towards the sound. He ran for a good half-hour in the dense brush of Siguria. "Calegor, goddammit." He muttered under his breath, and continued sprinting down into the coastal city. He saw smoke in the distance, and ran towards it, bumping into multiple people as he passed. His servos and hydraulics propelled him forwards, "Some good scavenge will be there." he continued. He brandished his rifle a few blocks away from the smoke, and continued to run. He turned the corner and saw the bar in a state of pure utter chaos. Vantt soldiers at the from, some dead, rebels, most dead, and the corpses innocent stander by. "Now, here comes the waiting game." He said as he huddled behind a dislodged piece of concrete, and hoisted his rifle over his shoulder, and waited for the battle to cease.
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David MacGregor

And now the evacuation of personnel was underway, as survivors quickly climbed through the smoking-hot hole created on the wall by the Squid and into the neighbouring building. David kicked some dust off the ground as the young man got up on his feet. Watching his family's property collapse into a pile of smoking rubbles wasn't remotely an enjoyable experience, and David could only hope the explosives at least took that damned Squid with Som Yislee as well. Reminding himself of their situation, David discarded anything but professionalism. The bar was a valuable asset and losing it was unfortunate, but there was no time to mourn. David prepped his rifle and primed for another fight as they made their stand at the backdoor to buy others some time to escape.

At first, there was nothing. All was calm as the dust settled, and David thought perhaps the Vantts were shocked from the explosion. They probably thought the humans all went out in a suicide-bombing or something. Soon enough, a xeno poked its ugly head in from the entrance and scouted the ruins with those large eyes that seemingly pop out of its ape-like skull, though barely visible under the combat harness it was wearing. Then a second one followed it in, then a third, a fourth, and then came a hail of bullets from the backdoor. David landed his shots on the first alien, knocking it against the wall and thudding down, heavy and lifeless. At this point, the Vantts started charging in, chanting that hideous language of theirs and guns ablaze. Inaccurate plasma pulses torch the wall David and his mates were taking cover behind, painting the thing in a layer of darkish burn marks. At least a dozen was gunned down by his group, as an obvious result to the suicide charge right into Foster's machine gun fire, before the rest were forced to take cover in the concrete and other debris in the collapsed bar. Some of the aliens outside actually seemed to be hesitating as well, consequently halting their advance, and they looked like they were taking fires from elsewhere too. Curious. Between the aliens' battlecries, Foster's language and the gunfires, David could make out a familiar voice going off from the radio on his bag - an asset he managed to save from the bar.

"All Wolves, this net. This is Jack, your friendly arms dealer. Be advised, I've been tipped off by Krieger. Break. Locations of our auxiliary weapon caches are forfeit. Recommend you guys move your asses now, because I am seeing a shit ton of angry aliens swarming your way from the western approach. Providing cover fire from the rooftop, but that'll cost ya fifty credits. Haha. Over and out."

So Jack made it as well, at least for now. The mad lad and those nine lives of his.
David moved into cover, took the radio and replied.

"This is Som Yislee. Cheers for the fire support, I'll look into payment when we got out of this. You should probably get the hell out of there too. Make for the other side of the slum, we have extraction assets on standby. Over."

The Vantts had advanced towards the centre of the bar, and some of them hopped over the bartender's oasis to establish a consolidated firing position at David's group. The young man smirked as a thought crossed his mind. There were still the explosives in the basement that he had rigged to destroy evidences and documents. The detonator was still there in his pocket, and with a click, the centre of the bar went down into a crater, burying several Vantts under the collapsing oasis and other rubbles. At that moment, the last of the resistance fighters made it through the hole, and David yelled over at Pryce.

"Just us now. Let's get the fuck out of here!"

Suddenly, the ground shook, and there were some machinery humming.
The Squid was alive.

Maria Beauclair

The thing was still a UEP asset the last time it was active, and so it had questions. Maria scratched her head, before looking up at the automaton's head, eyeing its visual sensors as an attempt at human-automaton eye to eye contact. This is certainly a work - the young girl thought. Maria resumed going through system analysis and the manifest on her tablet. She voiced her reply.

"The name is Maria. And well big guy, you're about to get an update. It ain't much but hopefully it should get you up to date with the current events. If you have any other questions, I'm here."

With a press of a button, Maria begun downloading information-packed files that were prepared by her superiors for the activation event of the AI. They were pretty much details on the UEP's evacuation from Ragnarok Sector and the sector's annexation into the Vantt Domains, as well as the resistance movements that have been defying the xeno authority ever since.

"The UEP boys have abandoned us, big guy. They bailed and left us to the aliens without firing a shot. We were only colonists and slum-dwellers yesterday, and today we're defending our home. We are asking for your help, as well as offering you a chance to fight for mankind. That is the purpose of your design, innit? C'mon, we got people to save."

@Specialist @Sushi Muncher @Kabboom


Junior Member
The automaton's lights flickered in synchronicity with the tablet as not a word was uttered within the several painstaking seconds it took for the file transfer to finish. ATLAS grumbled lightly in a slow Southern drawl as he reached behind him and brought the massive weapon stored behind his back to bear forward- a titanic looking machinegun like weapon that was painted in the same style and color as the mech itself. "God-damnit... Lead the way." There wasn't an iota of complaint in ATLAS's voice, but he almost seemed irritated at the notion that the UEP would pull such a move on a defenseless outer colony. Shoving that thought to the back of his databank, the towering machine strode beside Maria and readied its massive weapon.


Zofia Kamiński

I ran through the slum district, keeping pace with the Bush Wolves so I could easier follow them. Vantt cut me off, so I dived through the window, rolling into an apartment complex. I barged through a door and made my way out, eventually coming up and meeting up with the Bush Wolves. Running with them, I still hadn't drawn my weapon. After a minute I broke away from them and managed to get into a parking lot before the rest of them. I saw a truck, a very familiar truck, like the one that almost hit me. I couldn't tell from here, but either a robot or a person dressed in all black was nearby with a woman. "Uhm!" I shouted, revealing !tself to them. "How ya doing?" I asked, slowly moving closer to hopefully not get my head blown off.
@Specialist @KomradeTrappy


Alexender pushed himself against a wall, watching down the alleyway with his shotgun lowered, ready to snap it up at a moments notice.
"Sir, that meeting might have been a set up" he said, taking the detonator of captain Pryce.
His explosives seemed to do the trick, even tho they had lost a fair few of the wolfs most of them managed to get out of the bar.
However, the great captain pointed to the massive hole in the other building and ordered everyone through it.
Alex, as always, followed.


The Cykablyattest of them all!

"Aye, I'll keep that in mind, Alex. Get a bloody move on first!" I holler at the enthusiastic demolitions bloke as I slap another magazine into my rifle. The chattering of Daniel's machine gun kept the memory of the rebels alive in the brains of the Vantt. Their lasgun fire crackled through the opening of the rear door, but the plasma cannons were weirdly silent. I peeked out to investigate the reason, and almost get vaporised by the Squid's blast. Daniel and I were blown backwards, as the wall burst from the plasma blasts.

"Mathertrucker, that thing hurts a wee..." I managed to mumble as I shrugged off dust and debris. Reaching out by instinct, I managed to grab the Foster boy by the back of his shirt, and began pulling him. The fact that he immediately resumed firing after I yanked him upright really didn't make my ears feel better after the good rattling.

With a final heave, we were inside the other building. The one with the big hole in it, where all the other Wolves went.

"No time to rest, folks! That Squid is still on our asses! Split up and move through these slums! Fire and maneuver! Don't let them catch all of you!" I barked to the men as Daniel got on his feet. The surviving Wolves nodded and split up accordingly, with varying levels of hesitation and fear. Doing a double-take of myself, I took the route through the shittier part of the slums. More corners to ambush from.

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Pinnacle of Human Evolution

he rose from his position behind the Vantt, carrying his rifle. He slunk behind them like a viper, waiting to strike. He took out a pronged grenade, and launched it at one of the Vantt soldier like a javelin. It hit it's mark, and detonated, taking out the Vantt's closest comrades, and severely injuring those nearby. The most rear Vantt still alike cocked their heads towards Gustav, and sent a salvo of lasers towards him. Gustav ran across the rubble, a few shots hitting him, but not doing much damage to his outer hull. "Gotta get to cover" he muttered to himself among the chaos. Still in the open area of where the cantina once was, he dashed towards the cover of the slums, bobbing and weaving, almost natural in his autonomous state of movement.

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@ElectricPizza @LoneSniper87 @Tempo @Specialist


Alexander booked it down one of the many paths of the slums. With the light fading as noon was setting in he had one thought on his mind.
"Get to the garage"
He had a key to a small, locked garage on the other side of the slums and that was exactly where he was going.
Slinging the shotgun over his shoulder he ducked through a residential area, more people meant there was less of a chance of him getting noticed.
Pushing through crowds and small housing buildings he stopped to catch his breath in a little hole in the side of a crappy tin shed.
Pushing himself back in the hole he waited to see in any Vantt followed him.

Sushi Muncher

70 yo aircraft carrier. Perfectly Legal!

Jack Kronauer
Contraband Broker
Bush Wolves Resistance Group
Aiden District, Siguria

Tags: @Blacknife
Interaction: Alexander Bishop

Jack managed to somehow got out of the building in one piece. Train of thoughts ran by his mind, still beset by his recent betrayal, as if the whole world has turned upside down. It was bad for business, and even more so when one of his associates had given into the Vantt's offers. Jack was less keen on getting his network of contacts for the time being, and was more concerned with his well-being. Sporadic gunfire continued to echo throughout the slums, prompting Jack to make haste. All he had was his rifle and two magazines to accompany his long day.

The man had little to offer when it comes to operating in a firefight, but nevertheless gave it his all to keep the Bush Wolves alive. This is evident in his gladness upon hearing from MacGregor, as they have had past encounters that have developed a sense of trust and cooperation. Jack had little reasons to bother with his hypocrisies regarding the fight, as he valued the bonds of camaraderie that the Bush Wolves and him had shared in the past. While calculative and flexible in his allegiances, a sentiment of common causes drove him forward, as he passed through the intertwining streets of Aiden, before taking a quick shortcut through an abandoned school.

The eerie silence between the hallways and worn furniture only serve to bring about bad memories in the weary man. Jack crept through the corridors, trying not to step on the broken glasses. He slouched his head, and secured his rifle's straps, as he propelled himself forward, while indistinct Vantts' chatter could be heard relatively close by. Jack have had the liberty to proceed stealthily in a situation that demanded much attention, as the battle rages on throughout the district. He eventually made it through to the other side of the school and threw himself into the dirt, as a Vantt patrol closed in to check the school behind him. Jack had made it his mission to proceed slowly, but quietly, as he made it out of the area, all covered in mud and dirt. He frowned upon the sight of his messed up suit, but discerned himself from the minor details and waltzed over to the end of the slums, where he stumbled upon an active skirmish in progress. Tracers were exchanged in opposition of each other, prompting Jack to take cover behind a wall, as he turned his safety off and awaited the shadows to pass.

Raising his rifle, Jack scanned the area, while lining his sights up to the corner of the street, where one of the Bush Wolves member appeared before him, prompting him to lower his rifle. Jack broke cover and waved at the man, as he slowly skipped his steps over to him. Taking a respite from his tense state of mind and consistent movements, the man raised his voice in question, where his acquaintance with a shotgun was heading away from the direction of their rally point.

"Friendly here! Hey, aren't you going to the extraction point with the others?" he asked the man, while looking around in caution.

Translation Notes:

Kripyard Forest Cache Recording #45

MacGregor: "... what the hell is this place?"
Jack: "Just a precaution in case someone stumbled upon the shack."
Pryce: "Templars, Zeta Seven-Fours and Tee Tee Triple Threes? You getting ready for war, Jack?"
Jack: "Hahaha. The war's already here, Pryce. (cough) Take what you need. (cough) I doubt our oppositions will let us go that easily."
Pryce: "Hey Mac, check on his wounds."
MacGregor: "Bleeding's stemmed, but we need to move."
Jack: "Don't worry, I'm just... fine and dandy. Fuckin' Dio. When we make it out, I'll personally see to his fate."



The Cykablyattest of them all!
The Vantts keep up their advance, as they recuperate from the attacks. The sudden appearance of Gustav shook things up a bit, and now things are in full swing for the alien invaders. More reinforcements arrive on the scene, as an odd dozen of Vantts arrive via armored vehicle near Alexander's crappy tin shed, quickly fanning out and looking to blockade the rebels. The Squid, damaged as it was, managed to liftoff again about a few meters into the air, before resuming its flight, this time with its plasma guns trained on Gustav. It opened fire shortly after.


Aw fuck fuck fuck, they're gettin' closer. Daniel, MacGregor and I, along with an odd number of other lads, were booking it through the slums. A dude with a machine pistol was first, kicking through doors and stampeding through other peoples' livelihoods, without a word of 'sorry' comin' out of his gob, followed by MacGregor, doin' all the apologizin' as he checks the corners. Daniel and I stayed more or less in the rear, as we made it through. These squats are small, claustrophobic, no place for a fight.

"Fuckin' shite!" I managed to holler, as a barrage of lasers vaporize the lower half of the machine pistol dude. The shots came from the road, part of the reinforcements that just showed up. The guy barely made a sound as he landed on the dirty floor, but at least he sprayed a few bursts out of the thin wall back at the Vantts. "Everyone get cover!" I issued out the order, as I kicked down a door next to me to take cover. A scream emanated from the room I just burst into, along with a lot of confused swearing. The dude was trying to take a shit during all of this commotion, the mad lad.

Firing my AR-15 out through the walls like the machine pistol guy, I managed to clip a Vantt as he unsuccessfully ran for cover. The Foster boy hip-fires his MG, as he continues running forward. I follow him quickly after. Moving across my house over to MacGregor's smaller shed, where he and another dude with a homemade pipe gun had taken refuge behind an upturned table, I hopped over the corpse of machine pistol guy after grabbing his gun. "Keep fuckin' movin'!" I screamed at the remainder of my guys, barely audible over the gunfire and the lasfire.

Barging through the doors, I sprayed the remainder of the machine pistol out through the oblique, before tossing it away and continuing the bursts with my rifle. Daniel and I made it through a couple more houses before we encountered one with a solid proper door. Granted, it was scrap metal, but metal is metal regardless. I shot at where I thought the hinges were, put a few more rounds where they weren't, and then kicked the door open altogether. With Foster's help, we manage to pick up the damn bugger and continue our slowed pace, with some credible 'armor' between us and the assaults.

The exfil point can't be far.

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Pinnacle of Human Evolution
Gustav ran towards the shelter of the slums, but the squid cut him off, and a salvo of plasma bolts fired towards him at shocking speeds, he struggled to move out of the way of the bolts. The squid and him where in a crater of sorts where the rubble from the building made a small wall. He jumped to the side and fired from his rifle, attempting to disable the weaponry. "One down" he said as a plasma cannon fell to the ground. This was too slow he thought. Gustav was getting inpatient. He started hurling chunks of fallen concrete with relative ease. The armor was getting damaged by Gustav's indiscriminate tossing. Gustav looked as three more cannons had been demolished. "Three down" He pulled his revolver and shot at the remaining two cannons before they fell down. "Two down" he said, and started to run towards the squid. He raised his fist and struck with full force. The sound of the impact resonated in and throughout the battlefield. Gustav stood back. A large chunk of his left arm had been heavily damaged and began to chip. His fist showed warping and many of the metallic stubs on the top of his fingered were worn away. His optic lens had a large crack in it. He looked at his other hand, and the eyes of the squid. He drew his revolver and put two shots into it's optic systems, and he then vaulted three grenades at it, finally, killing it. He looked around his immediate area, and when somewhere to repair himself.

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