The Last Frontier (Kujo, Tack, ???)

[GEAR]

Opportunity City Outskirts
August 5th
4:18 PM Martian Standard Time

​

Whunch!

"Bagged me some good'uns today, Sheriff."

There was a high pitched, celebratory whistle as something slammed down onto Sheriff John Moss's desk, sending the fan rattling. An older man with streaks of grey peering through his black hair, he looked over the newspaper in his hands as someone moved to block his view of the outdoors.



"That so, Oscar?" He said, conversationally as he turned a page.

"Four Gespies, all in pretty good shape. Where you think they stole 'em from?"

Giving a sigh, Moss lifted himself upright, and picked up one of the oversized electronic tags that was now covering the sports column. The eyepatch-wearing mercenary gave him a grin as he flicked through their dusty surfaces. Eventually, he gave a grunt of approval.

"That ain't half bad at all."

Oscar Mendez nodded along as the Sheriff began to pay out his bounty, counting the cards onto the desk for each successful capture. They were swiped up almost as quickly as he lay them out, doubtlessly to be spent in some whorehouse by the night's end. Hoping to return and at least finish the current events section, Moss reached for his paper, before Oscar cleared his throat purposefully.

"Would have been seven, some of them got away. You know why."

He sighed. He knew where this conversation was going, as Oscar continued to prattle on.

"You gotta do something about Sieger and his boys-"

"How many times I got to tell you, son?"

Moss lifted himself from his seat with a grimace, taking his water mug. Thirteen weeks sober, a new record he thought. He wasn't about to let something as little as Oscar throwing a tantrum upset his daughter.

"Longinus draws a lot of water in these parts." He explained, pointing an index finger under Oscar's throat.

"If it's on their side of the fence, Y'all need to settle down."

The mercenary paused, and averted his gaze, shoving his hands in his pockets as he grumbled:

"It don't suit me to work with criminals, Sheriff."

"Then it don't 'suit you' to be here at all, if you can't tell the difference."

No further retort was forthcoming.

"Take your money and git." Said Moss, dropping back into his chair.

"Those other three will turn up at some point, and we gotta be ready for 'em. Don't neglect your maintenance."

"Alright."

He watched Oscar leave over the paper. There was no door slam - only a kind of quiet resignation. It wasn't that he didn't understand the young man's feelings - in a better world, none of them would have to tolerate working with what amounted to the mob. Out here, he didn't have the liberty of making the rules - he had to work with the limited resources he had, and that meant being dependent on hotshots and mercs who didn't know better than to listen to their elders.

He just hoped Oscar wouldn't be another body bag he'd be dealing with soon.

Right as he was about to return to his reading, something caught his eye on the monitor.

The skies were bright red.

​

"What in the Sam Hell-"

He leaned forward, tapping the side of the device suspiciously, but the color refused to change. Something was entering his view now. Something absolutely massive, falling from the sky - from orbit! A falling space station? No, no, too big - much too big. This looked almost like... a Colony, only with sharp, dark edges as it plunged from the sky, like a massive blade being thrust into the heart of the planet.

At length, he felt himself picking up his phone.

"Jesse, Oliver, get everyone together, and I mean everyone."

"You're not going to believe this."​

 

[Kujo]

Swordian Command Room
- - -

In the heart of the great alien vessel, ragged figures huffed and panted in relative silence. Around them, strange, stony geometry and glowing lights shifted slowly like some sort of ancient clockwork.

'Move! Move, damn you! You listened once so just do it again, you esoteric, over-glorified rod!'

The human form of the Romme stood tiredly in front of some sort of device. The High Scholar's clothes had been fairly ravaged; the left sleeve of his fine lunarian shirt had been torn off and his right had been hastily pulled up and draped itself loosely about his elbow and the hems of his pants were singed and tattered.

Black veins bulged along Romme's face as he clenched up. His left arm was thrust inside a ring on the top of a strange pillar, illuminating his pallid face with odd geometric patterns. Jutting out of the Scholar's arm was a thin, long, cross shaped stick of a similar material to the pillar and glowing in the same way as well.

Grimacing, Romme closed his eyes as he renewed his efforts to make contact with the strange monolithic ship's systems; tendrils began to shoot out from his arm and wrap around the pillar. 'Up,' thought Romme, attempting to will the ship to obey him. 'I don't care if it's out of the atmosphere or a hair's width off the ground, just go up!' The Swordian had responded to his first attempt to interface with it, successfulling booting up its ancient drives and launching itself out of the astral hell that had pulled the ship in all those days ago.

However, choices were limited as far as exit points go, and now, if the twinkling star map that now surrounded the Scholar's body indicated, the giant vessel was now hurtling down directly on top of the Sol system's red planet, Mars.

With one final mental push, Romme willed the Swordian to slow its decent; at least so as not make a second Hellas crater.

 

[Tackle Jackie]

Outside of the "relative silence" on I the bridge, the hall leading up to it was another story all together. Adorned in their living armor, Luciferd and File Data were tearing through the few Einst that had made their way up to them. Despite being forced to take a crash course in her new abilities, Vulyn was adapting fairly well- Relying heavily on the two pistols that her suit created, she and FD were essentially treating the falling ship as a shooting gallery, peppering whatever approached with projectiles.

As the ship started to fall into the atmosphere, Vulyn would turn back to File Data, jerking her head towards the door. "I think you should go and see if you can help- I think I might be able to hold them off for a while."

The gynoid didn't bother responding, just turning curtly and walking back into the bridge, leaving the redsuited hero alone in the hallway.

You shouldn't be trusting those Eaters- You know they're just going to steal my Melting Metal the first chance they get-

"Now you speak up again. If you'd actually explain what was going on, maybe I'd listen to you- If you're just going to whine about me not murdering the people helping us, maybe you'd like to help with that."

At the end of the hall, another Einst had entered the corridor, gangly tendril like limbs supporting that weird metal armor, giving an unearthly roar as Vulyn holstered her guns back into the metal.

Fine then. Feather Blades.

Responding to the other minds voice, the armor's "cape" jerked up, the feathers nestled in there flying forward and making for the Einst, slicing at it's tender meaty bits.

"Now that's cool- See? We can be nice to each other!"

Vulyn charged in after the blades, drawing her own blade from her body, hacking at the body of the Einst, while she could feel Luciferd trying to roll his eyes.

 

[EG-XX]

Further down the halls, a smooth room without any features. Idle and still like a forlorn dream now decorated with the writhing masses of invaders and monsters alike which permeated through every corner of the ship ever since it began its forbidden voyage. However accompanying the unlikely team up of Metal and Vol was a third party.

One that had crawled or clawed itself out of the guts of the Swordian with its horned visage but a week ago, silently interfering in the actions of the Einst. A defense method devised by the ship itself? An unwilling participant in the battle that had swallowed the ship whole? Answers were pending and not given. All that was certain about the 'horned man' was that one could never truly claim it was alone.

Even now, as it stood 'alone' in the room which Luciferd could see at the end of the hall half a dozen of the machine dashed around the room as the true one stood vigil at the entry, smaller, man sized Einst could and would slip by the 40 meter tall monstrosity to encounter death by the hand of the black knight Luciferd, the rest that made it this far into the bowels of the ship however had to face a one machine legion.

One drove its knuckle into a Knochen as it faded into nothing yet the after effect of its blow very much persisted, another fired its boost knuckle into a horde of freaks tearing through them for damage that would take too long to repair with their regeneration. Especially when, every time the room began to fill the guardian at the gate clenched its fist, a squadron of it appearing by its side.

And together they performed what could only be called an execution by firing squad on the oncoming hordes, blue energy congealing in its fist, as it did now, as it became flanked by six others, as it did now. Before in unison the beams fired forward, carving their way across the teeming hordes which could fill the pages of cosmic horrors. The sentinel continuing its silent vigil, its batteries seemed inexhaustible as it awaited the next horde to arrive at its doorstep in an unfortunate attempt to push past it.

A vigil which seemed unending, a cycle of death as the meat grinder continued with each heartbeat. Waiting for it to end in agonizing rhythm.

 

[GEAR]

In response to Romme's manic plea, thrusters flanking the sides of the beleaguered Swordian burst across its flanks, trying to meet the demands of its new helmsman. Chunks of the thing's black exterior hurtled off into the void, streaking across Mars' atmosphere like black comets. The skies parted beneath it, and the massive, flaming form erupted into view of those below - and slammed head first into the waiting waters below with a an unearthly shriek that roared through the super-colony's interior. Everything was roaring metal and clattering support structures - yet, whether it was due to Romme's quick thinking, the hand of fate, or perhaps merely the Swordian's own sturdiness-

It endured.

​

---

Hellas Basin Outskirts
August 6th
6:30 AM Martian Standard Time



"Ride up boys, we're here."

The cool morning air bit at Sheriff Moss's neck as he motioned to his men, the thundering and rattling of the train around him finally coming to an end. At the very least, he was pleased to note as he surveyed the desolate-looking coastline, that there were no poachers out today. There was a reassuring mechanical groaning at his back, and the thud of a bright green Mobile Weapon - a Gunblaze, stepped out of one of the rear carriages. It was joined by six more, each one stomping out into the morning grey as their eyes focused as one on the ruin now jutting up out of the Hellas Crater.

"God... Damn." Said one, voice full of awe.

"What the Hell is it?"

"No idea." Said Moss in response, flicking on the service board of his own machine, feeling it light up under his fingertips. The Cloudstream wasn't too bad out today, he noted from the machine's instruments - could be trouble. Latched onto the back of the very last train car, the open-air restraints about his bright blue machine cracked and snapped in the morning wind as they were shaken loose.

"Don't get too close to the structure, or any debris you see." He warned;

"Not sure how, but it seems to shut off the power to whatever tries to get near it."

"Jesus. What are we supposed to do then, Sheriff?"



With a whine of its engines, the Impulse-7 took to the skies, jabbing its rifle in the direction of the coastline. In the distance they could see others arriving, more Gunblazes, starting to circle the lake.

"It's a stake-out, son." Said Moss, tiredly.

"We wait."

 

[Kujo]

The black, wrecked monolith met the minute mobile weapons watchful silence with its own.

For a short while.

"Maha Raou Ken! Shinku Tennotsukai!"

​

A light flickered and then grew in intensity on a point near the water's surface. A crumpled gate began to faintly glow red as one half fell open while the other was blasted off, creating a large splash in the waters of Hellas and sending up a cloud of steam after the fact. A great jet of fire erupted out of the hole, seemingly with no end, when suddenly a figure crashed though and knocked the other bent and dented slab of metal free from its housing.

Through the air shot a towering figure wreathed in fire and trailing a streak of flames in its wake. Crimson wings unfurled in the Martian air as hooves thundered just above the water's surface; whatever had burst from the strange pillar appeared to be some sort of centaur. The torso of the mechanical being held a writhing, burning, screaming mass of tendrils and jagged plates with one hand, all the while the face of the centaur remained stoic and placid as it continued to advance.

As the giant mechanical beastman neared the shore, it began to slow and dipped into the lake. Steam enveloped the being and its captive creature as it slowly plodded all the way up on to the land. It merely stared forward for a moment before its eyes darted across the Gunblazes positions, silent and motionless.

Suddenly the green mass in its hand began to shake and scream with renewed intensity as it fought against the centaur's clutch. However its efforts were swiftly met with a loud crunch, shortly followed by the strange creature's form being completely bathed in geyser of flame; in but a moment nothing but cinders drifted from the centaur's hands.

Inside the crimson machine god, a man sat in a white void and stared through the being's eyes. He surveyed not the miniscule machines that dotted his field of view but the landscape beyond them.

"Red, huh?" He said to himself.



"I'll take it."

 

[Tackle Jackie]

"Oh. Just... Fucking great."

"Aye, that's a new one fur me."

Peering out of the Bridge's new viewport towards the gathering of weapons along the shore, Vulyn and Luciferd were treated to a front row seat of the strange, alien creature emerging from below the lake's surface. Was it a tag along from the dimension they were dragged through? Regardless... It wasn't looking great.

"Eff Dee, get a broadcast off planet if you can. I need to get a hold of Zanel."

"Sure, want me to stop that creature while I'm at it?"

Giving the indignant gynoid a smirk and a shrug, Vulyn sprinted out of the room, trying to piece together what she remember of the ship's structure before the crash. Of course, her roommate didn't appreciate being dragged around without any explanation for why they were abandoning the bridge, grumbling in her head for a good minute or two.

"Where's the Hangar?"

"The hanga- No, ye cannae be that stupid. Ye can't. Beside, there's just Dagger's in there, you fool!"

"Just point me in the right direction, and if you're right, then I'll just go back to the bridge, right?"

Begrudgingly, the old pirate began to guide their host through what they remembered of the ship, and as they entered the hangar, the Black Knight was stunned silent as Vulyn laid eyes upon her new favorite toy.

---

Filedata was having a rather terrible day on her own. Left with a filthy Vol while her master ran off to parts unknown, she could only try and put together what pieces she could of the ruined systems. At least she was familiar with the tech, setting up a simple long range beacon. Just three letters, broadcast into the void of space on an emergency frequency.

X-N-L

But that still left the humans on the shore, and the beast... Opening a channel between the Swordian and one of the aerial suits, FD smiled, feeling a bit more... Comfortable, like the old days.

"Be advised, this creature may or may not have been an original inhabitant of the Swordian. I suggest a retreat for the moment. Also yes, aliens. Hello."

 

[EG-XX]

The horned man pushed itself upwards, new light caressing its features like an angel's embrace. Besides it a hole in the hull of the Swordian, its gaze piercing it almost in a sense of disbelief. One mechanical hand soon pushed the hole in the hull to open wider, structural failings abused to crack open a door. A door that existed as a window but moments prior.
One gigantic step led to another, dust bellowing upwards with each step as the machine crouched underneath the 'door' to fit through. The previous assailants had all but vanished. Almost as if afraid one hand went into the water, dipping its fingers in it and moving up, the machine's unshaking visage beholding a tide of water plummeting down and then the droplets reflect the basin water in the morning sun.

Immediately it then proceeded forwards, wading out of the basin at moderate pace before taking off, a smooth waterfall coming from its form as it ascended and moved gliding across the surface of the water at speeds which were surprising for something that size but instead it was smooth, skating across the water as it pushed the liquid aside and then finally- The machine's form landed near the shore as the spectacle began behind it. Its hand, still wet with large droplets, moved into the water below or more specifically the mud. Scooping it up, mixing water and wet sand between its fingertips. This place of all places.
Like cosmic humor, a chuckle between gods as the red soil fell back to the ground misshapen and scooped.

A temporary pause, its gaze returning to the Swordian as the emergency signal rang temporarily the attention was present. But when the message completed the machine averted its gaze once more. Uninterested. Or seemingly so. Instead its lean down was halted, returning to a standing position as a footstep forth was placed onto the shore, a glance at the the seven machines and a side glance the centaur. One step away, each collision of foot and soil echoing with a cloud of dust and a watery stain on the ground. Like an army of ghosts marched across the desert plains. Such was an accurate term, Army of Ghosts. The machine itself surveyed intent, were the seven going to try to stop him. Would the centaur try to kill them?
Only they could answer such a query. One to which answers were undesirable.

Answers with but one question between them:

Was today going to be hell?

 

[GEAR]

"Today's just full of surprises."

Moss breathed, as a collective gasp went up from his men. Immediately, the arm of the Impulse-7 went up, signalling to the rest of the Multi-Walkers below as it turned its head back to them.

"Hold your fire!"

For a moment he could practically hear his heart beating in his ears... but thankfully, not a single bullet was fired. At least, he thought glumly, his men were showing some trigger discipline. Or, maybe they were just shocked at the appearance of a flaming crimson centaur to do anything. A red beast, and blue demon! His biographer was going to be thrilled, he thought glumly.

Stranger things had happened in Opportunity.

Clearing his throat, the loudspeaker on the Impulse crackled to life as the craft rose to meet the new arrival. The absolute size of it! Moss couldn't help feeling more than a little intimidated as he spoke, his own Flying Trooper dwarfed by the spectacle before him as the thin clouds roiled around them.

"Attention unidentified MWs. This is Sheriff Moss of the Directory Mars Security Garrison, Opportunity Division.

You are not authorized to operate in this airspace without the appropriate Cloudstream Permits. Power down and submit to inspection, for your own safety."

The hand-carried cloud rifle was raised suggestively - not pointed in the man's direction just yet, but with the implication that it would be so... if there was any trouble. As long as there was just the two of them, thought the Sheriff to himself, it was nothing they couldn't handle.

"Resist... and we will shoot. We have you surrounded."

 

[Kujo]

"That thing, I'll have to take a look at it later."

The winged centaur gave the horned mobile weapon a side eye as it emerged from the waters before turning its gaze to the Impulse. It appeared to be listening to the small unit, but almost immediately after Moss had finished a raucous laugh erupted rather resoundingly from the centuar; the statuesque face of the being betrayed by the pilot's mirth. "Inspection? Submit!? " The man's laughter went on but gradually subsided. "Fahaha, you sure have guts, whatever you are." The centaur spread its wings as a heat haze rose off it. "Mars, you said? Is that what you call this rock? Suppose I've heard worse. Well then, Martian, hear this."

"I am Zan Sin, the greatest Shura warrior! I have traveled the stars in search of foes worthy of my crimson flames, and you just got put on the top of my list." The Shurashin raised a hand into the air before turning its head to the horned machine to its side. "As for you," said Zan, "If you can hear me-or heck, understand me- you can go ahead and run along, I'll 'inspect' you some other time." He smiled inwardly and continued, saying, "That is, unless you're like me and you're here to stretch after the trip."

A flame lit within Mardikt's palms and the centaur circled its hands in the air before entering a combat pose. "Now then, fight! If you don't fight, I'll kill you. If you fight, I might not." Thrusting its palms downwards, Mardikt's flames gathered into a circle before dropping to the ground around the Shurashin. "Guren!" Great pillars of fire erupted from the ground, spreading out across the oxidized earth and encircling the general field of battle.

- - -

Romme leaned against a different terminal at this point, the dagger fragment still sticking out from his arm. A projected screen had placed itself in front of his face, following his face as he looked from place to place. 'Curious,' he thought. The Swordian's surveilance system was quite advanced; he hadn't seen a single thing along the smooth corridors and vaulted ceilings as he ran along and yet this system could see clearly across the winding passages and move virtually freely. The visual zoomed about as Romme looked on, assessing the current situation.

Much of the vessel had understandably broken loose or buckled from its impact with Mars but, beyond rubble blocked corridors and sealed bulkheads, the giant pillar had seemed to have fared surprisingly well. Even more surprising was the distinct lack of the otherworldly horrors that had invaded the ship, save for beaten, broken, and in some cases burnt remains and corpses. Continuing on, the Scholar observed humans resting in several places, presumably the fellow EATERs, now powered down, that had aided in the ships defense, until finally his vision was consumed by a dark, towering figure. Its pointed head turned slowly to meet Romme's gaze before turning back and drifting off along the halls. Somewhat unnerved, Romme sat and watched it go but his attention was grabbed by another strange figure that was hiding behind the giant entity.

Toppled and covered in bits of rubble, a spiny, blue mobile weapon lay motionless. Its appearance reminded him somewhat of the horned machine that seemed to follow his group around during the chaos. Farther from foreign machine lay other units, all in varying states of damage or decay when compared to the spiky mobile weapon, however their designs were at least recognizable to the Scholar. This appeared to have been some sort of hangar or storage area, and had evidently been occupied by the Directory if the old, antique Gespensts and mobile workers were any indication.

Switching his view to a "camera" outside of the vessel, Romme observed a gathering of mobile weapons. Evidently the local constabulary had come to investigate the new landmark and were accosting, or more likely being accosted by the horned machine from earlier along with a less familiar figure. Putting a hand to his chin, Romme dismissed the screen. The metal acquaintance had left the command room moments ago in search of a hangar, and so too would Romme. He looked to the robot which had been left with him. "I'm going to get out of here while the distraction outside persists. I suggest you meet up with your associate and do the same unless you enjoy this place for one reason or another." With that, the Scholar curtly exited the command room, his tendrils tugging at his torn and loose clothes.

 

[Tackle Jackie]

As Romme was attempting to leave, FD would stop him, for the briefest of moments, shoving a small metal device into his hand.

"I still wish to see your kind eradicated... But that may not be the only option left on the table."

Pulling her hand away and running back to the console, FD would ignore Romme from here on out, the small communicator in his hand possibly betraying a fault in the android's system. Then again, looking down upon the alien threat that they may have helped pull into this dimension was probably her main priority right now. After fighting together to get to the bridge, the old Luciferd probably would have executed the Vol as soon as their backs were turned, but who knew what this new one had in store...

"Master, I believe now would be an optimal time to make an escape, seeing as this enemy creature is- No. No, you cannot be serious."

"No, no I see that the door is opening, and I'm asking you to reconsider before you get yourself killed- What do you mean you've both agreed to this?!"

----------------------------------------------------------------

As the doors keeping the hangar opened, a small rush of water rushed in- About a foot , but it still made a mess of everthing that had been tossed around in the crash. The super robot in it's flight mode was more or less just laying on the wall, looking like it had been thrown there in a tantrum. Within it's cockpit, Vulyn and Luciferd had reached a... Tentative agreement. The Living Metal had formed itself into a more streamlined, cockpit version of the normal suit, with a clear visor allowing the pair a wider range of vision within the cockpit.

The deal? Luciferd got to give the giant it's name.

With the whir of engines, and with an explosion of force behind it, the red Grungust Type 2 was freed from it's prison, skimming along the edge of the water towards the Shura, firing off it's Solid Eye Laser into the beast's back.

"And I am the Black Knight, Luciferd! I have lived countless lives, died countless deaths- I've had lunch with a fucking god, so you can fuck right the fuck off, dude!"

 

[EG-XX]

A battlefield was coming, perhaps a display befitting that of a god of war was coming as well. Whether that display would be met with one of its own ilk was to be seen however, the Horned Man looked down at the nearest of the 'inspectors' beneath it before craning to the flaming centaur, the faintly human features of the Zweizergain looking in their static shape as the shura addressed it.

Had an understanding been achieved? Could the figure even grasp the language? At the very least it had acknowledged that the other new arrival had spoken to it if nothing else. Said attention then turned to behind, as the explosion occurred and the Grungust erupted forth there was a faint static the machine turning its gaze to the Impulse-7. To those familiar it was a simple bit of static, that a microphone being turned on for the first time. A voice came forth, weak was not the correct term. Perhaps parched was closer, but regardless of its state it appeared communication with the devilish machine was now an option.

"No." It simply answered "There will be no inspection, no powering down Sheriff." The Zweizergain pointed its right arm at the self declared Shura. "And no killing."
The voice was... Jaded, male, past the prime of one's life was a simple way to put it but even simpler was to say the voice belonged to an older individual. When the flames erupted from the battlefield the titan stepped onto the shore, a gaze passing onto the nearest 'enemy' as it moved past. The Directory... The gaze moved onto a distant blue dot in the sky. Barely visible with the naked eye- Had this become a return or a step into a distant world closer than imaginable.

For now it mattered little.
"If you want your 'stretches' beat them into a pulp. But do not dare to try and rob them of life lest you wish to 'inspect' now." The raspy voice warned, the machine glaring at the Shura. "That, applies to everyone." He figured the locals would be busy with their defense against the flaming beast to try to take him on as well, but if they were fools he would defend himself. Perhaps each of these machines could easily overpower his own, he did not pretend to know them or their capabilities.
Even then he would fancy himself a judge to behold the fair contest of might, to cement this message the hand which pointed towards the Shura opened its palm, dark energies gathering within as something formed within a mass of darkness, the area around it becoming more glum. As if drained of light by this act. A sword materialized after but a few seconds, falling into the machine's hand as it flipped the armament which stood nearly as tall as the machine itself upside down, digging its tip into the mushy sand as it stopped its pace.

 

[GEAR]

Oh no. There was a Grungust here too. Sheriff Moss's eyes widened as the crimson and gold giant burst forth from the wreckage, sending its eye-beams blasting into the new arrival's back - but not before it had sent plumes of flames down, down onto the surface of the red planet. The Gunblazes below cried out as the burning Haki washed over them, melting away their armored shells, reducing them to little more than scalding, molten pools in seconds. Moss felt his blood freeze as he watched the display below, helpless.

It was just like back then.

Memories of the Revolution, of when Personal Troopers and Armored Modules had met on the field of battle for the first time. Where he had won honor, glory, and fame at the price of so many good men's lives. It never truly left you, that was what he had learned. No matter how much you tried to justify it, no matter how far away, no matter how long ago...

The reflection from those flames could never be forgotten.

He shook his head, clearing away the memories. The others. The others were still depending on him. If he let this madman get loose-

More would suffer.

"Light him up!" Roared the sheriff over his communicator.

In the distance, rows of azure Gunblaze-Bs - "Backups" as they were so called - rolled forth from their own containers, each folding into a firing position and drawing its twin cannons on the crimson Shura in the sky. Without a moment to spare, all twelve machines opened fire, joined by the chattering rifles of the surviving Gunblazes, sending a hail of skyfire up at the new arrival. Moss, for his part,

"Little late for that, stranger." He said tersely to the blue-horned giant - and with the twitch of a control stick, the Impulse Seven accelerated forward. The Cloud Rifle came up - and fired a pair of emerald beams, aimed expertly for the face and chest of the new arrival. No matter what, he thought - he had to keep it from getting away!

 

[Kujo]

Zan smirked as the air filled with shells. Mardikt bust off in a trail of flames, galloping across the red earth and weaving around pillars of fire. "I'll say," Zan remarked, following up the sheriff. The Impulse tailed along and managed to dart its way ahead to cut off the Shurashin, taking only a moment to open fire. Mardikt's head yanked to the side with a burst of flame, the incoming laser narrowly grazing past, meanwhile it brought up a fiery fist to block the body shot. 'Well well, you've got good aim,' he thought.

"But it's not my fault the little guys can't dodge-" A laser blast suddenly shot out through the battlefield, nailing the crimson centaur in the back and interrupting the Shura's comment. Mardikt skidded to a hault, kicking up a large wave of smoldering ground, and whirled its head around to face the coward who would dare interrupt his battle; the Shurashin's pensive face now changed to one of disgust and annoyance. Off in the distance, the towering red Grungust loomed, haze rising from its freshly fired beam emitter. Its appearance intrigued the crimson tyrant, but whatever he was about to call out was interrupted by an intense flash of light and a shattering crack of thunder.

An immense bolt of lightning struck an outcropping from the twisted and torn Swordian. "Fighting those beasts has made you careless, Zan," a voice called out, emanating from a large mobile weapon standing on the outcropping. Zan huffed at the voice. "Yeah, yeah, very astute, Venas." The distant unit, covered in pearly white plating and shining gold, shrugged its arms in mock defense. "Now how's about you all come down here and join the fun? Tell you what, go and keep Big Red over there company, but just keep him occupied. I've found my mark here and our friend over there doesn't want the locals too roughed up." The shining Shurashin crossed its arms as the pilot's voice replied. "Fair enough," said Venas, "You heard him, Nohm."

At the firing line of the Gunblaze-Bs, a strange shimmering pattern filled the air behind the units. Suddenly the pattern lifted in a horizontal wipe, revealing a large, reptilian figure, humanoid in shape but strikingly poised on all fours. Large, bulging, chameleon-like eyes swiveled around at the small units before it as its mouth snapped open, flicking out a telescoping tongue and knocking over a Gunblaze. The Boffry then swiftly hopped into the air from its crouched position and rapidly brought its mace-like tongue down on the ground, spaced between the Gunblaze units to shatter the ground beneath them and disrupt their movement.

Venas turned his Shurashin's head to look behind him. "That goes for you too, Silas," he said. A dismissive voice replied "I heard the first time." Rapid steps clacked against the exterior of the Swordian as yet another Shurashin entered the fray. Silas howled as Glasyalabolas lept off the dark vessel in a burst of white energy, the purple, lupine Shurashin sailing through the air into a cloud of artillery shells. "Vajra Shinken! Ame no Hagane!" Seperate appendages flipped out from under Glasyalabolas' arms as white energy enveloped the Shurashin. The "Midnight Wolf" rapidly punched the air at the oncoming fire, the shells disappearing one by one until the Shurashin's path was clear and it landed safely. Now in its split arm, Glasyalabolas held a wad of melded together metal. Lobbing it up like an oversized baseball, the Shurashin wheeled around as it brought its thick, beastly tail to strike the gathered shells and send it rolling off at a cluster of Gunblazes.

Venas sighed as another crack of lightning hit his Shurashin. Shortly after a Second bolt struck the ground a distance away from the Grungust and the unit stepped out from the crackling light. "Greetings, Black Knight, one who supps with gods. I am Venas of the Raging Storm." Without another word, Amduscias entered a combat stance.

 

[Tackle Jackie]

"Is an honor, to meet ya, Venas-"

The calm, masculine voice that carried over to the Shurashin was most assuredly not the same as before, as the mech shifted it's head towards the numerous new beings that decided to descend upon the battlefield. Four new mother fuckers. At least the one facing her was kind of chill?

“Listen, I’m far from in a good state to duel you- I was kinda hoping we’d all just tag team on Ponyboy and at most make him withdrawal. This suits older than I am, I think I’ve got half a charge, and I just want to get people out of here-“

The voice flipped back to it’s more feminine tone before the eye lasers fired off once more- Aimed for the wad of munitions that the “Midnight Wolf” was about to hit into the Gunblazes in an attempt to set off whatever explosives might have been collected.

“I’m Luciferd-“
“I’m Vulyn-“

And with that, the Grungust lumbered forward, frame unfolding into its jet form, and blasted the hell off. The massive G-Hawk flew rapidly back towards the Swordian, sweeping up its form while a sudden blur of yellow streaked up from a gash in the frame. It seemed to leap from the ship onto the Hawk, the armored form of File Data arriving in the cockpit.

“So shits Bad.”

 

[EG-XX]

The horned man lumbered over to the half molten wreckages, looking on in silence as lives were robbed and ghosts were born. Such was human nature, or inhuman nature perhaps as well, to kill those opposed to you. None ever thought to simply break their bones and send them home. No they needed to have their heart crushed, their skull pulverized and every potential for thought of vengeance extinguished by the flickering and the fading of consciousness and the last utterance of breath.

None ever claimed this contest for supremacy had to be fun, those who did were mad. To most it was as natural as breathing, that thing. But as many got a wrench in their gut when they needed to do it for the first time, it was something taught. Yet how many had stopped to consider, what was the value taken and lost when they did it. In silence it stood to the side, like a undertaker in the wild west measuring how large a coffin one needed.

There was a question. Perhaps the answer was never meant to be known.

When could you hear the march of an army of ghosts?

At which point did that fundamentally impossible, eternally silent, let out a thunderous echo with every fall of a foot. A thousand? A million? A billion? Or perhaps the dead would go unheard, a march continuing into eternity waiting for someone to hear its drums and steps. Men and women of every banner unified in that most fundamental of things.

Lacking breath.

Now once more the question was posed, in the same volume of the march. That is to say silently, only for those who asked it to hear as those who marched heard their march. The horned man affixed its gaze on both men, 'leaders' perhaps. Its pilot didn't continue speaking for now standing to the side ready to interfere.
Equally however, was it ready to interfere in the battles elsewhere. Should one feel inclined to go for a lethal assault... Perhaps then they could hear the march.

 

[GEAR]

What a waste of life.

That was all Sheriff Moss could think as he saw that green, lizard-like monstrosity appear among his men. The way it crushed them reminded him of a beer can - no effort, no real challenge. Just something the fratboys would smash against their forehead for a few bucks. That was how inconsequential they were to these... these...

Monsters.

Never in his life had he seen anything like it, not even during the Colony War. The demonic form of the Valsion, standing on a practical throne of ground metal corpses made from its enemies, had burned itself into his mind, and not even that compared to what was starting to unfold from this cursed cargo from an uncaring galaxy.

He didn't waste any more time.

"Retreat! Everyone, get back!"

The Impulse Seven danced back and down, Cloud Rifle blazing at the Chameleon as the Gunblazes that could began a fighting retreat back to the trains, rifles, artillery cannons and anything else they could find blazing in the direction of the Shurashin, an incandescent hail of devastation fueled by unmatched desperation to keep them from getting any closer.

Moss had learned what happened when you weren't decisive - and he wasn't a fool. They couldn't win this fight, not how they were. It wasn't a case any more of if they were going to get some bounties and walk home with a big paycheck, oh no. Now?

It was about how many of them would be going home at all.

 

[Kujo]

Silas could see the beam hit the collection of shells just as it left the clutch of Glasyalabolas. The collected explosives went up in a chain, kicking up a cloud of Martian dust as a handful of singular shells jumped out of the rust colored explosion before going off. Shortly after, Glasyalabolas came darting backwards out of the dust in a trail of Haki. The Shurashin's red eyes shot towards the Grungust angrily. It brought its clawed hands up to bare on the Earthling super robot as light filled its palms. Rods of bright energy shot forth from Glasyalabolas, its arms recoiling with each Haki pin launched.

Venas, meanwhile, was somewhat unprepared for his adversary to simply fly away and ignore him. Amduscias large fists relaxed and hung lazily at its sides while the main body crossed its arms against its chest. "What an odd fellow," mused Venas to himself. He did not make any move against the Grungust as it switched targets, seemingly content to watch how Silas handled it.

The Boffry's reptilian eye erratically snapped at the sheriff, its hand raised to bowl over another gunblaze. The chameleon deftly launched itself into the air once more to dodge the bolts and curled itself up, its long tail encircling the large machine. As the Boffry fell back down to the red earth it began to blend in with the rubble and dirt that filled the air, the alien stealth dancing across its form as its now untraceable shape shot into a thick cloud of dust.

"Oi! I'm over here, you little bug!"
Within his Shurashin, Zan grinned madly as he reached out. Mardikt's wings spread wide as flames enveloped the crimson centaur, the towering machine god shooting forward and starting into a wild gallop as it stretched its mighty hand out to grab for the little blue mobile weapon.

- - -

"Well, I don't know what I was expecting from a foreign weapon left to sit for who knows how long, but I certainly wasn't expecting..." Romme muttered to himself, trailing off as he held up a tube in his hands. What appeared to be unpowered lights ran across it and a long, thick cable jutted out from its side. "...Motion controls?" The High Scholar scanned around the cockpit of the old machine he had spotted from the Swordian's surveilance system, his third eye slowly staring at various things. The cable on what his Astral insight seemed to think was an armlet trailed up into the top of the space, with 4 other bits of the control system scattered about and lazily hanging. "Well, I suppose I should be glad its not traditional. At least I don't have to grow any extra limbs."

Romme affixed the harness parts and fastened a strange vest to his body as he searched for any sort of way to power the strange machine. A strange sensation ran through his body and a dull buzz sounded for a moment, followed by a resounding nothingness. Romme's alien eye squinted at the mechanisms locked around his hands as Romme hummed in thought. "Aha!" A writhing shift flowed across the EATER's body, his form squirming and displacing momentarily. The sensation came back now, followed now only shortly by silence before the lights on the control harness began to glow and the machine began to stir. The spiny blue mobile weapon rose to its feet with little input from its new pilot, the layers of rubble and dust sliding off in sheets as the relic moved.

- - -

From an outcropping along the exterior of the Swordian, Romme peered out at the chaos unfolding across the great lake. "Hm, more power to that metal fellow but I believe now is a perfect time to abscond," said the Scholar to himself. The Vairose now stared across the water at the bank farthest from the battlefield. "While still an odd move, I suppose I should be glad that this machine puts most of its power into the legs." With a few backwards steps, Romme bounded within the cockpit, the alien super robot copying his moves. Just before the ledge of the outcropping, the Vairose slid to a stop and stooped low before jumping with great speed out across the Hellas Basin.

 

[Tackle Jackie]

"GODS DAMMIT-!"

The cockpit of the Grungust was very quickly turned into Mar’s largest tumble dryer as the haki needle smashed into the wing of the super robot, sending it into a spin. The armored gynoid smashed against their unfortunate pilot before finally stabilizing herself, with Vulyn left to sort out any teeth that were knocked loose. Or more importantly, reorient the G-Hawk before they stalled out.

The machine turned back to earth as Vulyn scanned the field. It looked bad, but at least those Martians were retreating. As much as she'd love to see how big an explosion a battleship generator could make if she self destructed in atmosphere, that probably wouldn't be worth the cost. Aye, as much as I'd love to see these bastards leave nothing but a grease stain on the soil, I think it would be a smarter move to invest more in... Escaping.

Vulyn sighed, retreating back into her mind for a second to... Speak quickly with her room mate. I'm sure you have dozens of plans you'd rather be acting upon, but right now we're kind of limited.

"Fadita! Man the controls-"

A quick, awkward shuffle later, and the Grungust was flying toward the field, with the armored figure of Luciferd in the ship, energy crackling around them. It took far more energy than they should have spared, but that wasn't important. "What happened to no killing, you blue bastard?! If you won't intervene-"

The Nishiki dropped quickly, too quickly, as it swept up a massive trail of red dust behind as the ship accelerated as quickly as it could, aiming right towards the chameleon looking bastards dust cloud.

"Then you better find someone who can!"

As the Grungust whipped over it, the dust cover would be blown away, if only for a moment- And honestly, a moment was all they needed.

"PHANTOM. GRAVITY."

It almost looked like they had lobbed a softball at the prone Shura, but as space began to close between it and the chameleon, the fact that there was now a miniature black hole coming for it should be plainly obivious. Luciferd gave one last laugh, before collapsing slightly, resealing the cockpit. "Oh that was fun..."

__ __ __ __

"I wish I had never injected you into this girl!"

Filedata was just chaperoning at this point, driving around her senile old boss with access to bombs. Whether it had just been so long since she had seen Luciferd in action, or if Vulyn was just a... Horrible influence on the Pirate, she had to deal with it. That was her function after all. She transformed the Grungust back into it's humanoid form as they landed on the other side of their dust cloud, standing between the Boffry and the retreating Gunblazes. Not that she was the best pilot- But she knew enough to shoot.

 

[EG-XX]

The Horned machine stabbed its blade into the dirt, between the Shura and the retreating forces. That Grungust could manage itself if it was being this vocal. If one can have lunch with a god a punch to the gut is nothing especially if they ran at the first notion of conflict. All the same, enough was enough. There was a glint of white across the blue machine when the retreat started. Its sword now embedded into the soil a wall began to form between the two sides.

The aforementioned army of ghosts.

Each one with a blade in the dirt, in unison they drew their swords. A line being drawn in the soil with one motion bisecting the battlefield. One which the flaming centaur in its pursuit saw fit to cross as it was formed. Four of the phantoms, each as tangible as the original shooting up to meet it. All the sword vanishing into darkness in unison. The remaining machine's' now forming a line.

Zan would find the four in pursuit of him cutting off his own chase of the blue Impulse. Tackling its form and aiming to drag it away with the speed and power of four machines combined. Though notably making no attempts to harm him but instead simply stop the pursuit. Had the intent been otherwise a more offensive maneuver would have been simple. No words followed from the dry lips which spoke before. No grand statement. A simple act to show the battle was over and should Maledict decide to ignore them in its pursuit they would take more drastic measures, with their unified strength throwing the centaur back over the line even if their arms would melt from the heat.

Another group of the ghosts held their eyes on the dust cloud for any movement, anything trying to get past the ranks in pursuit and should it try to, it would receive much the same treatment.