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Futuristic The Exile Battalion (Open for 2 more)

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The barrel of Strider's machinegun smoked white-hot. All was silent except for the rumbling of warfare far-yonder and the frantic kill-or-be-killed Tarrhaidim destined for Nova. He refitted his visor then yanked the lever of his bulldozing shooter. Grabbing the canteen from his belt he began pouring its watery coolant on the barrel which hissed with vapours of steam in response. As he let the barrel vent heat, he drew his submachine bolter and began scouring the battlefield for any lingering threats. He approached his comrades in the local vicinity and asked them "Ammo and injuries?" as a post-battle requisite.

He swept the immediate area while waiting for his visor to complete its diagnostics. It was then returned that his vitals were fine though his armour had been ruptured and would require maintenance. Strider began searching the Tarrhaidim's simmering corpses for any tools or equipment he could use to patch himself up with - tape, glue, oil tubes or spray, anything. The carapace on his right shoulder had been shot though served its purpose in absorbing much of the laser's energy. He'd also been shot twice in his torso area but his armour had deflected these glancing blasts. In consequence, this rendered his movement a little slower than usual as some components were damaged. He scavenged nothing of a resource to him.

He returned to the boulder just as 0001 announced "Evaluation: Since our enemies lay deceased before us, we should move towards the furthest and highest objective so that we are able to get a view of the other two objectives." Strider watched as 0001 gave an attentive look toward Saul. He sensed a kindling of disapproval emanating from the staunch construct, though chose to ignore it. Strider knew himself this could have been avoided. 'Recommendation: We should begin moving.' 0001 resumed.

"Yeah I think we should move to the farthest point as well, especially since we caused such a ruckus, so moving as far away from this small skirmish would make it more likely to avoid any potential reinforcements... I think." Josh replied and after quickly assessing the situation, Strider had no choice but to agree despite internal reasoning against such action.

"Moving."

He snatched up the carrying handle of the machinegun in his left hand while gripping the bolter in his right, and marched on with 0001 and Josh towards their objective; the furthest listening post.
 
Nova watched as the skull of the hostile quickly burned away in a ball of plasma. Satisfied with her work but with no time to spare to inspect the body Nova turned around as a loud cry nearby rung out and she detected a mass heat signature heading in her direction. Looking and raising her still hot rifle in the direction of the signature she ran a quick scan and determined it did not match with any of her teammates so as soon as she knew she could hit it she would take the shot. It didn't take long for the bolts of white hot energy to come flying out of the foliage in front of her, she plasma ripping through trees and causing small explosions if it hit the dirt. Taking cover behind a tree (which she knew would only offer little if any cover at all) Nova peeked out with her gun and ran an estimated calculation of where his head would be located. As another bolt ripped through the tree next to her Nova quickly moved away from the tree and steadily aimed at the location she had pinpointed. Holding her finger on the trigger and calculating his position Nova let out 5 clean bolts of plasma at the hostile, the barrel of her rifle emitting a small flash of light each time.
 
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Grom did not expect such a hasty response to his attack. A hail of bullets barreled towards him, threatening to injure him at best or worst, take his life. Luckily our engineer-turned-sniper would not allow such folly. He jumped from the branch to hide behind the trunk. Except he was not quick enough, a stray grazed him mid-air on his right shoulder. The nano filament material—woven thirty times and coated in a patented liquid designed to disperse energy bolts—strained itself. Despite the armour's expertly crafted nature, it is not designed with full protection in mind, trading off additional defence for carrying space and minor utilities. His right hand—that held the rifle—twitched in pain, shaking the rifle. "Urgh—" A groan escaped Grom. At the moment, Grom gripped the tree with his free hand like death. Not wishing to endure any injury this early on.

His robotic canid leapt from the man's back, latching onto the tree with its mechanical claws. "Thanks, boy." He managed to manoeuvre the rifle back onto his back; the magnetic pads, whirring to life, grabbed the rifle.

On the ground, Grom survey this momentary battlefield. Silent admiration at the efficiency of Damnation's Hunger. He circled his shoulder, still sore and painful from having deflected that shot. He noticed 0001 from afar, looting the corpse. Not like they had to follow any war crime convention. The benefit of being blacker than black operatives. Although with that also comes the added risk of discovery, it would be a good scandal.

0001 suggested that they depart from their current position towards the highest/furthest tower. "Agreed, 0001."

With that Grom moved into the rear position, right behind 0001, Strider and Joshua. "Strider, you good?" Noticing the gunner's slowed movement.

cybercrypt cybercrypt Remembrance Remembrance
 
"Servo's damaged," he replied dismissively, unconcerned with lugging the extra weight of his equipment, machinegun, and respiratory module. "What happened with you back there?" Strider kept his eyes front while communicating via his mouthpiece with Grom. He holstered the submachine bolter once the machinegun's barrel cooled and embraced the weapon system to his chest. He scanned the environment, peering unperturbed into the queasy treeline and skirting the perplexing distance with diligent surveillance. He blocked out the aching strain and pushed on armed with determination. These jungles were nothing compared to the horrifying atrocities he experienced on similar hellscapes, though he wouldn't neglect the severity of these ones either. He remembered the daunting state of affairs during his time with a former Commando unit, raiding the infamous Dawn Facility in the Ganjo Cluster, and the monstrous jungles that surrounded it.

He kept his guard up on the highest pedestal.

INTERACTIONS: Worthlessplebian Worthlessplebian
 
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Saul grinned like a mad man. He knew that he had to keep up his macho personality and performance, especially in front of these folk. He also knew that he was most likely going to be scolded later for losing stealth, but deep down, he knew he made the right decision. Because if the enemies identified him or his team at all, the only thing they would've remembered is a mad mercenary yelling "Yee Haw" as he opened up on their positions. And the security forces comms would most likely agree with this. While his teammates would see him as a hot head, it was a small price to pay for operational security, and there was nothing Ray loved more than acting.

He smiled as he patted Strider on the back, "Fuckin' A. You were a hell of a gunner pal." "Saul" said, his teeth, which had dirt in them, said in a grin. "Want me to carry some of your belts? I dumped three mags, got about 3 left." Ray said, patting himself down. He had seen time and time again the effectiveness of a squad gunner, and they never ceased to impress him. But nonetheless, Strider had impressed him with a shit ton of good shooting and a good kill. "I say we go Oscar Mike before a QRF arrives."(On the Move and Quick Reaction Force).
 
(PRIOR TO EMBARKING ON PATROL WITH 0001, JOSH, AND GROM)
"Want me to carry some of your belts? I dumped three mags, got about 3 left." Ray
asked a huffing Strider who was in the midst of reattaching the belt-feed from his backpack into the machinegun. "Bandolier these," he'd respond, detaching a segment of belt-feed and draping it over Ray's shoulders. The barrel fumes twirled in a wispy ballet of smoke. There were 100 rounds in each belt detachment, of which six remained, neatly organized in layered coils inside his combat pack. He yanked the cocking mechanism and looked at Ray. "Conserve your ammo."

The feeds were relatively heavy to bear, each one weighed around 10kg. Strider's servo-motors helped support their weight. On top of this, Strider handed Ray his backup drone which was exponentially lighter than the former, weighing only fifty grams.

He lit a cigarette and offered one to Ray before taking off.

INTERACTIONS: SpazTheButcher SpazTheButcher
 
Grom had cocked an eyebrow underneath his helmet. A servo's damaged? Right as if Grom even trusted Strider's statements on the matter; he's acting like a hard-arse again. Grom has known Strider since their days in the Arkradian Empire's forces, and he's probably one of the toughest sonnuvabitches that Grom has ever met: one of these days, Strider will land on something as stubborn as he is, and the engineer doesn't do bits and pieces. Bu11y, who was beside Grom, looked up at him. It wondered whether it should approach Strider and diagnosis the 'damaged' servo. Grom merely shook his head, denying the pup's request. Strider asked him what happened to him back then."Tango sprayed n prayed in my direction, grazed my shoulder. He spoke whilst mildly circling his shoulder, even now sore. "I told Ray that I was covering you guys but looks like it wasn't needed."

Interactions: SpazTheButcher SpazTheButcher cybercrypt cybercrypt
 
"I can carry as many belts as you need hoss." Ray said, connecting the two ends of the belt and turning it into a bandolier. "And the ammo wasn't my fault, my gun fires too fuckin' fast." Ray reflected. He probably should get a better gun, more ammo, or just shoot less. But his gun shot too fast for it's own good, and he couldn't help it. Ray took the spare drone, and almost questioned how the hell this guy carried so much, but then a thousand year old quote came to his mind. "But he lugged his great pack with pride, for inside it was all the ammo that would keep him alive."

Ray took the cigarette from Strider and lit it with a beaten Zippo Lighter. "Thanks for the support Grom, even if it wasn't needed, it is always welcome. Need a patch kit?" He said, nodding at Grom's shoulder.
 
0001 broadcasted through the unit communications.

0001:" 'Evaluation: Since our enemies lay deceased before us, we should move towards the furthest and highest objective so that we are able to get a view of the other two objectives.' "

Soon it was Joshua who decided to chime in on the unit communications.

Joshua: ""yeah I think we should move to the farthest point as well, especially since we caused such a ruckus, so moving as far away from this small skirmish would make it more likely to avoid any potential reinforcements... I think"

Then it would be followed by Strider and Grom responses.

Strider: "Moving."

Grom: "Agreed, 0001."

Moving from cover to cover, taking care not to disturb too much of the land to give future investigators something to trace their movements and actions however Trapper was getting somewhat annoyed that the target has now changed and he has to change the initial target to the furthest one instead however he kind of figured it must be due to the unnecessary battle that occurred earlier. As Trapper quickly turned about face and heading to the new location instead.

Trapper would turn on his helmet unit communicator and responded back.

Trapper: "Based on my calculations, I have a head start from the rest of the group should we make a rendezvous location or set up a listen post or something that sounds like it was planned? Pretty sure the handlers would want that or something similar. "

Trapper would still be making strides to get to the said listening post as this military lingo was not the same that was used in the Black Hand Cell well technically Black Hand Cell did not have much lingo however the Frontier Solar Assembly handlers did try to retrain Trapper to understand it but had mixed results. Trapper was still getting used to most of the new gear that he was given after all the Black Hand Cell did not have much that would be considered equipment. Moving cover to cover and trying not to make unnecessary movement to draw attention from any scouts or the local wild life.
 
The tarrhaidim shuddered and staggered as plasma rounds devoured their way through armour and into its flesh, splashing against its fungoid meat and burst in flashes of lights. Its monstrous gurgles grew and frothed as if its own body mass was bubbling from the heat but each shot was having its effect. It struggled to keep its legs steady, crashing its shoulder against a tree and hanging on for balance as its rifle fired wildly off-course from Nova. Soon it was silenced as a trio of bolts found their mark, reducing its skull to a cloud of acris, pustulent mist and leaving a smoking carcass face-down in the red tinted dirt of the forest.

Even before its lifeless body had hit the ground, the commando team had been making preparations to vacate the area. They weren't wrong that it had been a less than stealthy confrontation as the ambient sounds of distant gunfire, artillery, and the ominous shrieks and moans of forces etheric and unearthly resumed their chorus of perversity. 0001 had acquired one of the carbines; partially scratched and scarred from prior engagements but still functional. Its true effectiveness hadn't been experienced fortunately even if it was ultimately a lesser version of a much deadlier firearm.

Strider's armour had received some light damage and his visor, while still functional, had a slight crackle and static fizz; a residual after effect its own maintenance routines would diminish with time. As he rummaged through the seven bullet-desecrated corpses, some supplies were found albeit in various states of usability. A medkit but with many of its tools half-turned into molten slag though thankfully, the combat stims and regenerative gel packs were preserved. Under another corpse, a nano-repair capsule was present; the sort meant for minor damage to UCL regulation suits. It wouldn't beat a proper maintenance but under the conditions, it was a precious resource.

As they left behind the mess they made, a slender form crept out of the woods, along the same patch of grass one of the interim security troopers had been scanning mere minutes before the deadly ambush. Its long serpentine head raised just enough to peek through the tops of the lightly willowing bushes, watching them vanish away from the woods and onto the drier, rockier paths that lead to the sickly etheric fog. When they were out of its sight, it crept out and vanished, silhouettes of its shape flittering through the trees and foliage, trailing them from behind.

==========​

The further the squad progressed, the more treacherous the terrain became. The slightly uneven terrain of the forest had mostly been exchanged with craggy, rocky terrain intermittently broken up by massive craters, large enough one could fit a few tanks within. Sometimes there were no craters; just enormous, craggy wounds torn into the ground and the sides of the hilltops over which they now advanced. Over their barren, scrub-littered reddish tops they could see the great valleys below and areas consumed with the sickly pinkish-blue of Abzu-bleedthrough into reality; a half gaseous, half fleshy mess of pestilent, fetid ethereal mass that blurred their sight as if by waves of heat undulating like worms in the water from afar.

All around these flesh-like patches of diseased reality, blackened figures humanoid or even vehicular lay smoking in the soft breeze. Tanks large enough to crush through armoured bunkers, glowing the same fleshy colour as the realspace overlap stood like silent, sullen watchers over this no man's land. Flitting shapes could be seen in the almost embryo-like masses of etherspace regions; like little insects seen skittering across the water's surface or the black dots in frog eggs - jerking, twisting, skimming about near the edge of their sickly prisons. One could almost think they were spectators, if they even had the function to see.

The gradually sloping terrain they were travelling over wasn't any less pleasant. A numer of infantry-made fortifications could be seen during their walk; gun positions manned by still, burnt out cadavers and the quadripedal, transparent predators prowling around them who upon seeing the commando unit, scattered off across into the brush. They were roughly vertebrate in form with longer quadrangular heads, splitting open like flowers to reveal rows of inwards pointing teeth. Their bodies were partially flattened but built with powerfully streamlined mass, transparent like plankton but rather than an ocean blue, it was a tint of the hazy red of their environment, filled with a complex array of organelle-like shapes suspended within the colourless fluids and watery dust-like bluid of processed ether floating within their forms. The connecting joints of their limbs formed in jagged, almost blade-like elbow and knee joints and their ridged tubular tails, roughly a little longer than their whole bodies, ended with what looked like four-pronged teeth.

Roughly the size of lions, these ethereal entities seemed smart enough to know feral instinct didn't mean much when encountering trained rifles.

It wasn't long before it was clearer why there were so many of them. Not just that this area was a desolate slum of long-since abandoned positions. Ether concentrations were rising in the air. At first it was a tinge of heat that didn't make one sweat and swelter as much as it seemed to feel uneasy in their skin, a warmth that might be welcome in some circumstances creeping through skin and armour to flesh and circuits beneath. Yet soon it was more than a sensation as the air began to feel thick and amidst the soul-caressing heat, tinges of a cold chill like currents of water passing one by. The ground grew steeper and rockier, the air thicker with a smoke almost with the consistency of void-corrupted flesh. Electronics not hardened against ether concentrations in the atmosphere would begin acting up as halfway to the distant sphere of supernatural fog, they found themselves swallowed by a mist that seemingly hadn't been there before.

While they could not see clearly, they could still hear.

Movement; lots of it. Fast and sprinting, almost galloping across nearby rocks and through the craters. Bestial grunts and flanging sounds of strange alien throats, all coinciding with flitters of movement on whatever motion trackers or radar hadn't been rendered faulty by the arcane ambience in the atmosphere. The dwellers in the wraith-fog were agitated or excited; they had visitors today and this time, they could not be so easily seen or dispatched.

Yet peeking through the fog, a structure emerged near large formations of stone. It wasn't the listening post but it was an installation of some sort, likely built by the previous government of this region but abandoned likely due to having been too easy to assault. The fog didn't fully consume or cover it and with the predatory creatures hounding the party, it almost seemed like an oasis in the wild.

(MOUNTAINSIDE MILITARY BASE) StarShipTrooper_Matte3 copy.jpg
 
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The robot pressed forth, hearing the discourse amongst the team members. DIscussion amongst soldiers was common but utterly disliked by the strategic A.I. It served no purpose unless it was relevant to the mission at hand or increased efficiency. While there was always the chance that conversation would increase morale; it had little bearing on pure efficiency in combat or performing successes.

Regardless of its opinions, 0001 kept its sensors pinned on the horizon and area. Watching for any movement that could be considered unnatural as well as keeping a sensor out for any traps though the likelihood of such things was small considering the war-torn environment. The area could hardly be considered war-torn as they progressed into more ether-torn places. With its sensors, 0001 caught wind of a pack of creatures prowling about. It was unlikely that they were feeding off any carcasses. Most dead were burnt and charred; beyond the point of any sustenance that could be obtained from them. Transitioning into their territory, however, proved as to why their existence continued there.

Though the creatures had fled at the sight of the team, even worse problems had begun to rise. Ether-concentration levels had risen exponentially. 'Observation: Ether levels are concentrated heavily in this area. Be...' Already 0001 had begun malfunctioning. '...ware.'

0001 could feel its circuits sparking. Its body and internal hardware weren't made with the ability to combat ethereal effects. The Abzu had hardly any presence on XVV and those capable of using it weren't commonly brought into the local militias, thus there was no need for the penultimate robot commander to have any defenses orientated for such situations. Lest it somehow finds its way out of its home system and in areas where its lack of preparation could be used against it.

Its functions began to slow down, the efficiency of its body was lowered greatly. Movement slowed down to less than that of an optimal human mortal; sensors malfunctioning showing contact icons in places where they weren't meant to be; heatsinks no longer regulating heat as they should be, and a voltage adapter that caused more problems than it could solve. 0001 resolved that it needed to get out, though its main functions concerning its artificial intelligence began to break down as they reached the eye of the ether-infested fog.

'Expletive: Fuck.'

0001 looked around as it could, attempting to find an end to the situation they had walked into. It could see its teammates in a similar situation though it couldn't even begin to imagine how their biological functions were acting. Contact icons swarmed the robot's sensors though it was incapable of telling if these were real or caused by its internal malfunctions. Nevertheless, a new objective arose: Safety. There was a 33% chance that all the contact icons were real; a 33% chance that they weren't real, and a 33% chance that some were real while others were malfunctions. 0001 had to go with the majority consensus that there was the possibility of enemies around.

'Recommendation: My sensors are malfunctioning at the current moment but there is a 66% chance that enemies are nearby.' As 0001 addressed the team over their comms, its sensors read a large structure in front of it. Unless there was much worse within the ether fog, it was likely to be a military outpost or something of that sort considering they were still a while off from their current destination. 'Supplication: Please handle any possible enemies while I investigate the structure ahead.'

The robot sprinted with what energy and speed it could, landing itself in front of a large metal door. It appeared as some sort of loading dock or perhaps it housed vehicles used for patrol. In any case, it was the best option for safety at the present moment. Pushing forth through the mist wasn't an option for 0001, it would leave the robot malfunctioning worse or disabled. Holding up in a small fortress would be better than braving the storm.

With what strength it could muster from its failing hydraulics, it gripped the bottom of the overhead door and pushed it up, likely breaking whatever mechanical mechanism is used to open the door automatically.

'Request: Let's shelter ourselves. Hurry while I hold the door open.' 0001 assumed the most optimal position for holding something up but that increased efficiency couldn't make up for its weakened internals. 'With haste, I would like to add.'
 
Strider dashed through the vault-bay opening doors at 0001's behest and as well to ameliorate an Abzu-inflicted splitting headache - it felt like his cranium was about to fucking rupture! He immediately switched on his NVGs and adopted a kneeling position a few strides ahead, sweeping the interior with his machinegun primed. He graciously thanked the android though kept the appreciation to himself knowing it wouldn't matter. He sternly peered into the gloomy penumbra, the NVG's fluorescent blueish-turquoise hue amplified whatever morsels of light reigned within and relayed this infrared illumination back to his visor, granting him vision, albeit strained due to the persistent malfunction. He'd wait patiently for the unit to trail him inside, passing hurried glances over his right shoulder then back into the stygian ink. His migraine began to subside and a comforting sense of relative ease washed over him. Strider composed his grip and shook the consternation that laid a torrid brine of swelling disquietude in his gut. The foreboding stalkers that shadowed this unit were rendered less of a disturbance within the relative safety of this dim-lit shelter.

Strider briskly checked his webbing in regard to what he had scavenged earlier, realizing that what he collected could indeed attribute some manner of convenience to him. He engaged assiduous concentration in scanning the immediate area, the first man in - now acting as point-man for the squad. Owing to it a bittersweet semblance of nostalgia, he took on this duty with pride. Strider ignored the symbiotic relation of those duly affectionate emotions and a long-forgotten sentimental memory and instead tensed his grip on the machinegun, brows furrowed in attention as he scoured ahead.
 
Trapper had made it along with the rest of the team to the an unknown installation intially staying back a bit as the sight of the beasts that protected this now isolated and from the sounds of things too much movement of the local beasts that seemed to roaming around. The patterns that they are exhibiting is the same patterns some of the Black Hand members used to do before spring their ambush...Heh funny Trapper thought to himself as the irony donned on him....Trapper getting caught in a trap. The sounds from the beasts, the way the wind blows and the scattered remains of the defenders all point to a common answer....What ever did all this but must definitely still be around.

As 0001 informed that it is having malfunctions now of all times made Trapper think about Nova, Grom drone and Joshua. What sort of malfunctions would start to happen for them. Followed by 0001 analysis of the situation on his sensors only made it ask for them to ensure that if a hostile appear that the team needs to contend to that....Another complication to add to the already list of unnecessary actions taken today. Trapper went into full alert; kept an eye on the surroundings and make sure that 0001 does well whatever it plans to do to investigate... Perfect none of the beasts seem to mind that 0001 came into their territory and even avoided getting near it....0001 seems to be standing at a loading dock door or something similar. Back to surroundings nothing out of the ordinary...beasts are keeping their distance....0001 mentions that it open and is keeping the door open and is asking to go into the unknown as quickly as possible....Stare at surroundings; no movement except for the growling noises from the beasts, they don't want us here but they haven't made a move yet...Must be the locked cave technique; place a meal in a cave wait for prey to enter cave and then ambush en mass then ambushers now have a meal of the prey....Trap 101 for guerilla warfare and possible behavior pattern for predators.

Strider made a move as if it was some sort of life or death situation seems like no one has yet moved so now would be a good time as ever to watch Striders back. Trapper would get his sidearm; a Double barrel sawed off shotgun with twin triggers as Trapper moved forward making sure that Strider gets inside first while keeping an eye out for the beasts. Trapper made it inside with Strider and 0001 as he placed the side arm back into holster and grasped his Pump action shotgun again as Trapper noticed that Strider but was looking back and forward before deciding to move as the lead so Trapper stayed with 0001 to keep an eye in case if the beast decided that the team was split off from each other that they can hunt the current smaller group which mean Trapper, 0001 and Strider would be it. Trapper quickly crouched down to kneeling position to get a firm footing so that he can act as over-watch for 0001 and open fire at anything that attempts to attack 0001. Trapper opens his unit communication and spoke.

Trapper: "Providing covering fire to 0001 and rest in case if the beasts think of attacking right now...Strider is going ahead to check what inside....The rest can begin moving in. "
 
Nova watched 0001 as he forced open the door to the facility, upon scanning him she had detected a number of structural and hardware failures and she could only assume the worst was going on with his A.I. Nova herself however, had been unaffected by the rising ether level due to being built in order to interact with the ether herself and secretly even preferred it a little to just being in a normal area. Still watching 0001 and granted a little anxious for his wellbeing now Nova ran over to him and ran a calculation of the best way to keep him from sustaining more damage with her conclusion being to simply find something to prop at least until he had been repaired. Sprinting inside Nova looked around for a bit and quickly identified an empty metal container just large enough to hopefully keep the door open then proceeding to get ahold of it and began to drag it over to where 0001 was holding up there door, then proceeding to put it upright next to him to hold the door open and shove 0001 inside the facility calculating that shoving him vs letting sustain more damage was a logical sacrifice. Now turning her attention to Trapper who was still outside Nova gestured for him to come inside the facility.

"Requisite Trapper please enter the facility should the metal container I have moved fail structurally and leave you trapped outside the building with the abzu"

Then turning to 0001 Nova ran another scan of his systems and diagnosed him

"0001, you have sustained damage to your hardware. Requisite, permission to run repairs in order to reduce or fix damage?"
 
The sensation of the Abzu tickled Grom's skin even through his armoured hide. His feet rushed towards the shelter—he hates dealing with the eldritch. His canid companion is falling behind. He noticed this and spun around to pick it up. Then a blade of condensed air whizzed past his steel cheek. Bu11y hopped into his arms as he continued to sprint into the complex. He was one of the last to enter. "Thanks, 0-1" He thanked the android for its' quick thinking. It seems Trapper had decided to live up to his name and set a trap for the Abzu creatures. It didn't seem like a good idea to Grom. "Hold them for as long as you want but beat it once you're able." A disgruntled compromise for Grom. A head nod from Grom signalled to Bu11y to aid Trapper in his endeavour. It leapt from his arms and jolted to Trapper's side. It barked once to announce its presence. The drone's capabilities are supportive but I'm sure Trapper can figure a use for it.

"Nova, I'm assisting Strider." Calmly stating his intention as he pulled out his pistol. His suit doesn't have the NV goggles as Strider has but it does have an alternative version. Grom's sight became a faint yellow tint as some of the darkness was pushed back. This vision mode is meant for repairs during dim conditions, but it can function like this; the tradeoff is that it is weaker than traditional night vision.

Grom's cheek tingled, the residual Abzu energy from that brush still fresh.
 
Joshua simply quietly followed 0001 through the entire path, barely keeping up as Turtle mode only allowed him to waddled with limited turning and moving through sloped surfaces on the mode was especially aggravating, but then again it was either this or possibly entering his normal mode and being spotted from miles away.

Finally as the group arrived at what seemed to be an abandoned complex, Joshua noticed abzu in the air as so everyone else seemingly did. However compared to everyone else he seemed barely affected by it, Joshua even noticed that the abzu in the air was also charging him up much more. That’s also when Joshua noticed the creatures around them and quickly scuttled to where the group was headed, preferring to avoid the creatures rather than fighting them. Without saying another word Joshua entered through the open door which seemed like enough for him to fit through.

Upon being one of the last to enter, he decided to activate his thermal vision to check any possible anomalies or just gas leaks, those were silent and deadly.
 
The handgun-wielding machine wasn't wrong about its estimates. Even as the otherworldly fog seeped not just into sight but under skin and thought, the lurid miasma could only conceal so much. Something loomed above 0001, almost like a pointed rock face at first silhouetted against the blur of miasma until it began to quiver and shake, plate-like portions of what could vaguely seem to be a head revealing ocular formations - almost but not quite eyes lined along a beak-like protrusion, connected to a long almost piscine body ending in drifting, languid bony limbs rather than fins, like tendrils yet connected by floating ball-like joints and long flattened sections of some void-drifting cartilage. The eye-spots' "pupils" shifted towards him and a deep, subterranean bellow emerged - not from its body but all around itself as if it was not only projecting sound but controlling it.

Tough as the machine was, its circuits would start to heat up and sizzle as if the soundwaves were reflecting some sort of radiation its scanners couldn't pick up, turning its sight into a nightmarish blur of distorted, delayed footage. The door he had gripped cracked and groaned as gears nearly snapped as it rose from the ground, ethereal power seeping in as the dimly lit and derelict interior of the structure greeted their blurred sight.

More sounds followed them in response to the cracking and groaning of the old doorway. A rumbling of throats that rose and fell, a foul un-harmony of pitch-shifting gurgle-tones and the sound of clawed feet ripping along the stone and the dirt. Shapes akin to those that had once scattered befor ehtem on the way here now crept forth with a menacing confidence, glaring with conical skulls devoid of eyes and splitting open like foul flowers revealing cruel fangs. The drifting beak-fish creature did not seem to pay them any heed, pulsing out with its sonic waves of interference.

It only seemed to make them angrier, some of them turning to the strange creature and emitting a sharp, atonal crackle threateningly as their silhouettes began to blur and shudder. It appeared whatever affected 0001 affected these predators as well.

A spike in the readings; the drifting creature's false tendrils twitched, slapping one of the terrestrial creepers across its flower-bud like face, sending its silhoette rolling across the ground. One lunged and grabbed onto the trailing limbs drawing a piercing metal-scraping shriek from the drifting monstrosity, ceasing its strange pulses. Yet as it thrashed about, bashing itself against rock and flashing warning pinkish colours, the others turned away from the party. Something else had caught their attention and they too felt the sudden influx of power in the air. A bad omen and ominous readings; Joshua's scanners could detect a massive fluctuation in the ambient balance of power in the space they all occupied, multiple warning signs flashing. Any on board cameras he had would notice the source of the disturbance was coming up from the same path they had all been walking, intensifying the nearer it got to the cloud of unearthly, disorienting power they had walked into.

Whatever it was, it couldn't be discerned behind the confusion going on outside. The floating creature's thrashing, the stalking terrestrials attempting to repel it, and those flashing not only their teeth but their sorcerous power at the encroaching threat were causing ambient ethereal levels to rise even higher; enough that Strider's HUD was detecting a minor level of qillatu buildup on his void-signature and his body. 0001's was starting to rise not to a lethal level but enough he would need to find some sort of decontamination materials or chambers when he entered the structure. Trapper wasn't faring any better; one could see what looked almost like some soggy algaic growth spreading across his shoulders and the chest-piece of his armour, coinciding with a feeling of disorientation and dizziness the longer he stood guard.

Having sprinted into the structure, Grom was spared most of the effects even if he could feel residual ether clinging to him like marsh mud, tightly gripping his skin along his limbs and the back of his neck like a thousand tiny jaws. Joshua was unaffected; his scielto systems were built to tolerate a far more extreme level of ether concentration in the air.

With the team finally inside though the door was still held open by the air container Nova had stuck there, they had a full view of what appeared to be a derelict loading bay. Multiple aisles of supplies could be seen; pushed back to the edges of the room, to an area off to the side that looked like it would have once been used for storing now absent vehicles. Rails could be seen on some elevated ground connected to the floor via a short stairway, leading off to a doorway and a few computers lightly kept active with minimalist emergency lighting, likely for controlling the controls for the jammed doorway. A few alarm lights flashed and a partially out of order klaxon groaned and squealed; multiple smaller computer panels used for controlling the crane-claw like arms on ceiling-mounted rails flared red. Ether readings in the chamber were at an unacceptable level for unsurprising reasons.

In spite of the base being derelict, it didn't seem to be in particularly terrible condition or rather, this room didn't.

A few other doors could be seen; one right on the opposite of the doorway they were still in front of and another off near the aisles. A closer look showed the former appeared to be partially ajar and the flooring underneath it partially cracked and torn. The latter seemed to indicate someone or something had knocked some of the supplies over and hastily opened a few boxes but otherwise, that door was shut and an old keypad was visible on it.
 
0001 held the door for as long as its hydraulics could allow before it was shoved into the loading bay by its fellow android. The robot stumbled as its arms grasped for the walls to steady itself. Although its sensors had been malfunctioning, one thing was certain: the ether concentration both outside and inside was getting dangerously high for 0001. Its counters wouldn't give a proper estimate as to how high it was but for it to affect 0001 as it had been for most of their expedition within the ether-ridden miasma, there was little doubt in it being hazardous.

The robot slumped down against the wall it had steadied itself by, its joints twitching and systems receiving delayed responses. In spite of its condition, 0001 had fewer processes committed to its own well-being and instead focused most, if not all on its biological peers. Whatever happened to 0001 was temporary, it resolved. It could be fixed and repaired, longevity was a certainty for it. It could not say the same for the team members whose composition was made up of flesh and organic bits.

0001 looked up at the ever-loyal android, giving a thumbs-up as an indication to begin maintenance if Nova was even remotely proficient in navigating systems she was unfamiliar to. The robot, with what energy and circuitry it could muster, wished to impart what information and intel it could spare with what processes still functioned.

'Observation: Ether-levels have... risen exponentially.' An assessment made after their arrival in the loading bay but having said that, it was incapable of backing it up beside its own condition and what sounds it could hear. 'Threat: Caution is advised. Uncertainty is all around us.'

Shutting down, it began its mechanite reconstruction procedure, expecting it to assist in Nova's repair. Even so, its mechanites weren't exempt from the precarious ether-concentration in the area and worked at roughly half their ability. 0001 could only anticipate what the team would do, and whether or not the robot would be impressed enough to congratulate them.
Clan Ize Clan Ize
 
Upon the abomination's presence, Strider's body flared with an aching sore that lathered his back with a jarring, burning sensation, and his teeth began to jitter uncontrollably. He felt the pressure mount inside his skull and emerge once more, deploying some wearisome agony into his psyche. It felt like his brain was getting scrambled and swished about. It was maddening. He kept salivating and his eyes grew drowsy, weary... yet his aggression outmatched that of the ethereal enmity. His determination made him clench the gun with a tight, squeezing grasp, popping out the veins in his forearms like a winding roadmap. Strider gritted his teeth harshly in order to temper their dance and felt that they could shatter at any moment. His entire body was wracked with a stiffening malaise. The hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention like pawns ready for inspection. He felt a vacuum in both ears that augured perverted speculation something else was with them. Despite this internal strife and explicit turmoil of the self, Strider appeared thoroughly composed and operational. He shrugged off his backpack as the throbbing kindling was soon set ablaze with a scalding fervor and unzipped the opening, quickly retrieving a masked helmet that was part of the closed-cycle respiratory module, and fitted it. He bandoliered two chains of belt-feed and dismissed the pack where he knelt.

Strider unlatched the submachine holster from his belt with a single hand while maintaining the machinegun's level via its forearm assembly. Withdrawing his secondary firearm and tossing it over to Grom he hoped to achieve in affording his closest ally a bolstering of firepower. Within such confined space - its lethality was geared to tumultuous effect. He switched on the transceiver attached to his webbing which fizzed and crackled with a dim-hum of static though the mercenary-commando seemed unconcerned about this. Strider then affixed his infantry cutlass to the end of his machinegun and stood up, chin up. With a stiff upper lip, he stepped into the loading bay and kept his bearing solid, checking all around the clock, sweeping the barrel in parabolic arcs and pendulums.

The commando ascertained there was no immediate danger within the bay though kept stern wonder trained on the opposite door that was left slightly ajar, and its floor damaged.

"Guarding this sector," he relayed back to the squad, positioning himself a few yards away from said opening. His NVGs flickered as he stared deep into the vagueness of the gap. "If you need a room cleared then shout me." He then grumbled something that enforced the regard of past experience, though his humble nature stifled this supposed declaration. He focused on the area around them.

His transceiver began spitting gargled murmurs and thrumming drones of chopped conversation. It was an echo of former radio chatter within this facility. He listened, hoping to contrive information useful to their current endeavour. When he first gained this piece of kit it had initially perturbed him, though Strider grew to become fascinated by its uncanny machinations.
 
As Nova watched 0001 give her a thumbs-up as permission to begin she nodded to him and began removing his external metal covering in order to get a better scan of his internal hardware, making sure to memorize where each plate went so she could successfully attach them when she was finished. Once he had been opened up Nova took a detailed scan of his hardware and began marking where damage had occurred or was continuing to occur and sending out her personal nanobots to aid his mechanites in the repair, then taking out her integrated toolset and beginning to repair him manually as well while the nanobots and mechanites restored or repaired the damaged hardware. Nova herself was quite interested as too seeing how 0001 worked seeing as his hardware was considerably older but still managed to preform extremely well in combat and in other tasks and was quite focused on only fixing 0001 and not helping or paying attention to her fleshy teammate counterparts or Joshua at this time.

After a decent amount of time Nova had finished maintenance on 0001 and repaired him as best as she could with the resources she had to her disposal but still faced a final major problem she wasn't quite sure how to solve. How to continue to keep him in this shape without getting damaged more. This took her a good couple minuets of processing before she came to her solution, in order to ensure 0001's protection Nova or her teammates would have to find a decontamination chamber and put 0001 inside of it. Her new top priority was to find a decontamination chamber in order to protect Unit 0001. Quickly, Nova finished up securing and reinstalling 0001's metal plate coverings and began to scan the area and search for any sign of a decontamination chamber. Deciding that it also might be easier to check the computer if it took logs of what the base held and hopefully where it would be Nova ran over to a computer terminal she had detected when she first ran into the room and tried to search through it in order to find any mention of a decontamination chamber


Remembrance Remembrance
 
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The flat terminal's screen was occupied by an enormous flashing red window, repeating the message of ether seepage into the space. Levels were fairly low but the sensors were sharply attuned to its presence. The klaxons continued their eardrum pounding blaring as the wraith-fog began to move through the still open doorway,

+++ RISING ETHER CONCENTRATION DETECTED IN LOADING BAY. DEBRIS BLOCKAGE IN ENTRY WAY: ADDRESS IMMEDIATELY BEFORE FURTHER USAGE. +++

Still for a machine of her talents, it wasn't difficult to search for the information she requested. The terminal and the rest of the base's operating systems appeared to be in order; an inventory of supplies came up in a manifest of neatly ordered, sectioned off charts. It was typical for this sort of base which appeared to be one belonging to the prior government known as the Balraktal Regime prior to the coup backed by the UCL from some of the registry files included. Yet a number of the supply readings listed UCL type equipment, vehicles as well that belonged to the League. In fact, much was located in a storage room just down a door off to the right of the entrance they'd come in through according to the downloadable map that was brought up.

Looking off to the right, she'd see a filled up aisle with a number of heavy crates stacked in front of it. If she peered a little closer, a door could be seen between some of the gaps of the aisle's boxes. It was blocked for some unknown reason. Now it appeared there were three doors in the room.

When she attempted to fidn the decontamination chamber, a section on the map flashed; it first appeared to be a part of the flooring marked by a yellow triangle. Two windows popped up over the ones she'd already opened and the still flashing ether warning.

+++ WOULD YOU LIKE TO OPEN THE DECONTAMINATION CHAMBER? Y/N +++

+++ WARNING: CHAMBER CANNOT BE OPENED. RISK OF VOID-INTERFERENCE FROM EXTERNAL SOURCE. PLEASE RESOLVE THIS ISSUE FIRST. +++

---


Interaction: Clan Ize Clan Ize
 
Trapper had noticed that most of the team had made it in however it was odd seeing Nova place that metal container on the door to keep up right before pushing 0001 inside.

Nova: "Requisite Trapper please enter the facility should the metal container I have moved fail structurally and leave you trapped outside the building with the abzu"

Trapper was starting to have a hard time hearing her as he started to stagger from disorientation and the lingering dizziness as Trapper attempt to get a bit deeper into the unknown base before turning around and noticing that Grom little drone was now following him for some reason. Trapper hated that it looked like a dog mostly because it is usually dogs that sniffs out his bombs and alert the bomb disposal team to the bombs....wait is it following me to attack me?....Trapper staggered as he walked closer to the wall before kneeling down and before pointing back his shotgun away from where he believes Grom, Strider and Joshua went as Trapper opened his units communication line.

Trapper: "I think someone needs to remove the metal container that Nova placed at the door....I feel sick....Never felt like this before.....I'll try and stay awake but if you hear shotgun blasts, that might mean we got trouble........"

Trapper tried to stay focus and tried to point at the drone to keep its attention to the entrance area and not at him...All the while not noticing the soggy algaic growth spreading his shoulders and the chest of his Armour.
 
Nova smiled a little bit satisfied with her work but with no time to spare, the void disturbance had to be contained and then 0001 could be decontaminated. Quickly she began a download on everything she could get from the terminal and ran over to the crate she had put down and kicked it so it wouldn't hold up the door anymore and letting the door slam shut against the ground. Now having completed the first step Nova ran over to the terminal and clicked "Yes" hoping that now that the door had been shut the decontamination chamber would open.
 
"I got a bad feeling about this," Ray said, feeling some weird shit on his skin and body. He wasn't well accustomed to ether exposure, but right now he was not having a good time. His gut had him feeling worse than being in a combat drop. The ammo counter on his M41A2 was freaking out, cycling through random numbers. His TNR shoulder lamp, began sputter on and off in bursts. When they closed the cargo room's door his TNR flicked on steadily, and his ammo counter clearly read 60 rounds. He took a deep breath as the sickness left him. He looked to the crates. He knew his way around UCL gear, and hopefully something useful would be in those crates, so he opened the one closest to him up.
 
Vargr did not like any of this. He did not like the ether levels, he didn't like the fog, and he sure as hell didn't like whatever was out there stalking them. And so he hurried in behind the others into the derelict building, trailing at the end and pointing his massed array of fire power behind them and switching from one threat to the next. Lucky for him, his mechanical limbs weren't drastically effected by the large spike in ether levels, a feeling of disconnected sluggishness perhaps, but nothing crippling. His tactical hud, however, did not fair as well. It flickered wildly, forcing Vargr to aim by sight and gut instinct than by the reticle that vanished and appeared at random.

He was all to relieved when the door was firmly shut behind them. He did not, however, like the fact that they were now in an unknown area with unknown hostiles outside and who knew what inside. "What is this place?" He asked aloud, more to himself than anyone else. "This the base we're supposed to jack the data from and then demolish?"
 

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