/mlpol/ - My Little Politics

>>356999
>got trips on informing us on the good news

now you can't die or else you'll be a massive faggot

>>357000
the trips protect against any jinxes, also GG on the 7k post

>>356999
Don't you dare fuckin die before me you faget.

But good to see that you're doing well on recovery, now fucking take it easy.

>>357000
Don't make a tempting offer~

>>357002
Medium to high intensity, moderate impact cardio. Basically metered speed exercises.

>>357004
FUCK no. Never have, never will. Got done watching 'Died Suddenly', real sickening. It's on rumble, unfortunately.

>>357067
Can't be a faggot if you like mares more.

>>357115
If I'm not active enough taking it easy might kill me. We've lived this long, I ain't leaving now.

>>357123
>FUCK no. Never have, never will.
Good.

>>357123
Take it easy in a sense of not giving yourself the die

>>357123
any updates?

>>357146
Less die, got it.

>>357545
Got held another week and a half due to a 'false' heart attack that turned out to be a paroxysmal muscular spasm, am wearing a heart rate monitor now. Should be home late this week or next.

>>357747
Told you not to jinx it.

>>357747
be safe man

>>357747
Be well fren.

>>357747
Why are you like this

Back home now, exhausted. Underwent the MAZE procedure to hopefilly stop future heart attacks. Take that pun and eat it, you know who you are. Past week only minor palpitations, nothing remotely concerning. Supposed to keep exercising, but my PC is fucking bare, hate starting a system over. Will update in a couple days.

>>358720
welcome home, now start eating your greens :3

>>358720
Welcome back, horse overlord :)

>>358720
Glad to see you're keeping yourself from the die.

Also punch the PC into working

>>358722
Have been, feel considerably better. My diet before was atrocious now that I know. Procedure helped greatly, fuck it hurt just to sit down though.

>>358764
Julie Covington time~

>>358765
Ohaiyo gozai mashita.

>>358899
Trying, not going well. Might need to use a SpinTenLite OS for a bit.

>>359251
Any updates, feeling a bit better now you're settled in?

>>359553
Am in the 'somewhat recovered' phase. Not great, not bad, nothing unusual. Got my PC together but may need wipe it and reinstall, so.. frustrated. Laptop is shit and uncomfortable to use.

>>360104
hope you're enjoying Linux lmao

>>360104
Yeah. Now you must be up and fine.
Let the fun begin.

>>361161
>>361162
Yeah, no. Might have a fucking problem: the standard HD that all my files were on isn't accessible from any laptop or PC here. Linux was supposed to dual boot on the newer, much larger HD, but the original is showing a DIFFERENT and damaged file system that was corrupted by an improper Linux installation. Which it SHOULDN'T have had unless there was something fucky with Windurrrs somehow reading the old HD as the primary, even though it wasn't.

>>361399
Ouch. Sorry to hear. Not sure what cost is but Ibas now Ontrack has good reputation when it comes to rescue data. Getting calling them and getting an initial quota and scan is worth it - it might be easy for them to recover. Ibas was the one that was used to rescue data from the harddrives that were on the Challenger Space Shuttle (but that was damaged almost beyond repair).
https://www.ontrack.com/

>>361399
F

>>361399
That's a nightmare bro, sorry to hear that.

The good news: physical health checkup shows only minor heart atrial fibrillation. Nothing worrisome or questionable outside of keeping diet and exercise regimaren intsct.

The BAD news: hard drive has been sent off for recovery. Woe to the man that discovers 79.8 gigs of MLP porn on it.

>>361646
>The good news
Glad to know
>The BAD news:
F

>>361646
Or you've created a brand new horsefucker

>>361648
Backups are confirmed dead. The reformatted drive THAT SHOULDN'T HAVE FUCKING BEEN only has a minor number of files that were able to be recovered. Oh fucking well. Now I know whom to never trust again. Back to retyping everything from memory.

>>361742
Someone might have said something. The official email was hilarious to read.

>>361400
Did what they could. Sadly wasn't enough. No complaining from me.

>>362553
>Backups are confirmed dead
Time to plan for the future and actually do something about it.
And avoid Seagate drives like the pest, too many failures are reported.

>>362555
Already got backups in place including a pre-shutdown system restore. Also fuck WD, bunch of tranny loving Silicuck Valley commie whores.

>>362577
Do not forget to scan the surface for bad blocks before to setup LUKS and begin dumping the files.

>>362596
learn to code lmao

>>364115
Take a hike Windows fag.

A WiP of Wildride

>>365599
Needs bigger tits

>>365599
Finished version

>>365633
next time i'll tell them

>>365774
Very nice! (And good~)

>>365774
This is 100% canon due to her tech-evolution via various events and her tutelage from Natilda. Also I don't know how you fucking mindhacked me to somehow know in advance what Wild Ride CURRENTLY looks like. Epona blesses that artist, and do I.

I'm still working on 6 years typing out the fucking backlog from memory. Currently down to <1 month of work left. I think. Doubt is ever the type-killer.

Big tit version.

>>365910
Bigger is better.

>>353842
"I have read all of Spiral's notes hundreds of times each, they confirm the same across most human worlds. It infuriated him knowing how unprotected the majority have been-"
>Shooting a grim stare to the various armor plates hanging across the Workshop's interior, Krinza remains motionless for a handful of seconds before leaning down to eyeball the slowly cooling modifications.
"And often still are. No more of that. From tonight onwards I will not allow a single Operator in field without suitable protection."
>Placing both front hooves on the carrying handle, the smith's eyes shut, carefully intoning a sequence of low, solemn words in archaic unicorn.
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <M.Elemental Chemistry
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14] <GM.Enchanter
[1d6+10 = (6+10) = 16]
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13]
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14]
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13] <GM.Smith
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16]
[1d6+11 = (1+11) = 12]
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16]

>Lacking any negative tones, Helping Hoof turns a side eye towards you with an apologetic expression.
"I am beginning to understand some of Spiral's writings. It is clear now that the inadequacies of the average human world are due to factors that was bitter towards. He believed that all-"
>Pausing with a far off stare, the left side of his face twitches briefly.
"Most all humans should have equal access to equine knowledge and capabilities. He was particularly hateful of a common human saying, that being 'work with what you have'. The irony is that the pony version ends with: 'and share all we must'. I apologize for my earlier, unsensitive words."
>The large unicorn makes a shortly dismissive motion, then focuses on fusing the box's internal structures together.
"Not at all."
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <E.Crafting
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <E.Enchanting
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <E.Smith
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] <E.Research
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] <E.Eidetic Fundamarentals

>>353845
>Head turning left to eye the Rilvenni's outer skin being slowly carved off, then right at the undersized hand cannon, Anonymous frowns under the mask.
"Given what you've already dealt with? Slapping a giant crate's worth of anti-tank mines across her hull might not be a bad idea. Shit, what wouldn't help is a small list. And, yeah, I've noticed there's a serious inacurracy lately. Half the objects I grab and send off don't land where they're supposed to. Still haven't figured out why."
>Freezing entirely from her work, Wild's left internal screen reboots quickly, the mini caricature peering back at you as her internal speakers emit an utterly flat tone.
"I will neither confirm nor deny that statement."
>There was at least two displays.
>Neatly severing rolls of dull orange skin off the Planar monstrosity, four of the repair tendrils continue their grisly work of matter conversion.
"Point taken. I will attempt to restore each repair system individually before resetting them, that should prevent further damage to critical systems. ..or welding them upside down."
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <Sensory Node #3: Conversion Ratio
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] <Repair Tendril+1
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] <RT+2
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <RT+3
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <RT+4
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <RT+5
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <RT+6
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <RT+7
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7] <RT+8

"Probably not but I'll check. Batponies and Ferron have picked coastal areas clean for centuries, particularly shells, gems, ship wrecks, and every piece of weird stuff they can find. They like that last way too much."
>Glancing down at his smartphone and tapping several times, he turns it around to show a small, newer map than the one Wild was using.
>Little was different save for a sprinkling of small Outposts spread across the Crags and a number of dots marked with an X.
"Nope, sorry. Not even those guys and gals that love exploring the Moors venture out farther than half a night. After seeing that thing-"
>Motioning at the Rilvenni carcass, the Gestalt takes on a miffed tone.
"I can't blame them. Unfortunately I have to leave, this gateway's destabilizing a bit faster than the last one. Until next time."
>Rolling backwards into the portal, the door closes quickly afterwards, both side pillars crumbling apart and dissipating into nothingness.

>Pausing once more, Wild's upper body bends downwards several degrees, one distressed metal sheet above you making an unsettled sound as her screen caricature scribbles on the map.
"What a strange existence that one has.. current location updated, new information logged. Mom, I have enough materials to repair all critical components and six destroyed systems, but my head unit is nearly collapsed. You would be far better protected inside it. Commencing long range scans-"
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Arcanum Sensors Array

>>370026
"It was a matter of price and technological progress. By the time of 'properly' built gunpowder weapons, armor would have been too heavy to carry and too expensive to build."
>He shrugs an arm, motioning down at his suit.
"It was more cost efficient to hand out a uniform and a musket to a recruit and train him than it was to develop armor for the recruit only to have the enemy design a musket that could go through it a decade later."
>He let out a soft hum.
"We've gone through that cycle enough times. Make something a ranged weapon couldn't go through, they develop a better ranged weapon. Better to spend that money in recruiting and arming."
>He thought on that for a brief moment.
"That would be good.. It's a shame even in the Zone we couldn't do that. Most had to pick either anomalous or physical protections. And often got neither."
>So many Rookies died because of poor protection.

"The problem is, not every human would agree with sharing with their community. What can be considered modern humans, anyway. It used to be that way, we just... got more greedy or some such as a result of civilization growing."
>He snorted and leaned back in the chair, aware of his weight to keep from crushing it. Barely.
"Though we should end this line of talk, it might lead down some dark paths."
>For me.
"And I accept your apologies. Humanity isn't perfect and I hope most understand that."

>With a nod, Ivan would pull out his PDA and sort through the files for a moment.
>Were it not for the fact that he had a lot of music stored on the SD card, he wouldn't have much use for it other than a map.
>One that wasn't properly set up for this planet yet. He would have to fix that.
"Hope this helps lighten the mood. If there's one thing I can't hate about the bandits..."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_podzD4cSA

>>370027
"I wouldn't know if she would survive the explosions though. If she could..."
>That is an idea. One that I'm not exactly keen on attempting any time soon.
"So wishing for something is probably not the best idea at the moment. Got it."
>Better let him figure out what's going on first, I suppose.
>Yeah sure you won't confirm with those fucking displays flashing my eyes.

"Worth a shot, at least. At least we can update our maps."
>As he starts to leave, I get a last minute thought.
"If you can, let them know we're coming!"
>I don't know if he heard me or not as I only managed to speak out as the portal started to close.
>Worth a shot.

"I would... But I'll control your movements for a bit longer while you keep repairing. Better to let you focus on repairing, and with the updated maps I shouldn't have any problem steering you towards the outpost."
>I sat back and idly chewed on a slice of pizza for a moment.
"And yes, Anon is certainly... strange, to put it in a way. Good man from what I can tell, though."
>Shrugging, I inspected the armor he had left before standing up to redress in it.
>Its just us gals in here so its fine~

>>353885
>Connecting to the prototype's windows, the Shiibo avatar opens a series of tiny ones.. only to turn The Look from you to 'Tipper'.
>Sharing a split-second, the pair seem to agree on something judging by the twinned nod, though 'Tipper' mimics pulling a blanket around her image with a kind smile.
'I thought that was the problem, there is a fair amount of data too corrupted to recover. Understood, I'll be careful with her.'

>Wrapping her arms tightly around the deep purple stallion's neck, already splayed out and half-sleeping with his head over her shoulder, Katyal leans backwards onto the bench.
>Adjusting Hodch's weight without a word, her head turns at the projections, studying them with a hardening face.
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <E.Scouting
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5]
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3]
[1d6 = 4] <Apprentice Cartographer
[1d6 = 3]
>Dul silently turns around, upper body glinting in an unrecognizable fashion.
[1d6 = 2] <Study

>Pointing out five likely travel routes, a short index on northeastern New Everfree megafauna and megaflora is offered, then listing a host of potential dangers based on limited regional exploration, Shiibo pauses at Lonestar tapping on metal.
*"Eh... seems good. Ah'd prefer a real pair'a hands on them controls ta be honest, ain't got much good ta say 'bout gunnery androids an'shit like that. No amounta trainin' can teach 'em intuition. Or tact."*
>Shiibo's left eye twitches at the stinging comment, taking on a stiff posture while continuing to cross-reference and append category data, text scrolling across the helmet's interior.
I can certainly operate these admittedly well balanced plasma and laser weapons better than a standard production android.
*"...did someone say somethin'? Got no displays or vidfeeds internally, kin'a blind 'less y'poke a head up here."*
No?
"No."
>Craning her neck back and forth, the Siren's eyes inspect everything around her for a few moments.
"Dul not hear thing. Dul say no."
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <Siren's Gaze
[1d6 = 2] <Planar Adapt: Tallus
*"Awright, then we're leavin'."*

>Tilting forwards briefly, the OL-3's rear hatches begin to close, quiet hydraulics whining in the troop compartment as a series of dull metallic locks snap shut and internal air seals pressurize.
>The hybrid APC begins turning in a slow 180, light track impacts on ground barely felt while it smoothly rumbles forwards onto stone.
*"Might take a sec fer th'Remnant t- nevermind, it's openin'."*
>Making a chest deep salute from the chair, 'Tipper' smiles brightly, the connection unexpectedly during a short, unfamiliar stepping-lurch in realspace.
*"That is one fuckin' weird gateway... Machine Gods, let yer eyes be on us 'fer we have unknown paths ahead, an'no honorable way ta return home."*
[1d6 = 6]

>>353898
>Parsing the only datachannel available, what you find is the complete schematic of a perplexing instrument: a 29-stringed oval harp, the ends tapered to a shearing point.
>Connected to a labyrinthine network of perfect 0.1 nanometer width necrodermis cable, directly integrated throughout the Auspex's custom built systems, it appeared that the 'pick', created from an exotic native alloy, was bent slightly forwards the wrong way..
>By, precisely, 0.00002 degrees.
>Repeating that datum twice, the Necron device translates directly into High Gothic: "Melodically-attuned temporal causality inspection unit repairs MUST be completed via high velocity, high kinetic-transferred maintenance."
'USE A SLEDGEHAMMER'
'or throw it. that usually made it work before'
'SLEDGE. HAMMER.'
'calm your binary ma'
'FINISH THAT THOUGHT AND I WILL CALM YOU PERMANENTLY!'

>Tracker dataprints themselves out as a pair of near-exact twins in ASCII, the male slightly taller than the wiry female, the precise image.. unsettling.
>And you weren't sure why.
>The male politely seats his sister on what was probably a chair, sitting next to her and turning to 'view' you, frowning equally as they speak in sync.
'None. Marquis du Spiral Disclosure was the sole interested unicorn of adapting human technologies to native methodologies and materials. We theorize his fascination quickly became a source of grief. As a test, compare the least equipped Guardsman's wargear to those of the Russian analogue squad you met in Twin Hill. That, we feel, is part of why he went mad.'
>Turning their bodies towards away from your perception briefly, which was probably them intercepting the Xenotechnologist's channel, the Tracker twins' datatone is expressionless.
'Princess Mi Amore Cadenza's ability to commune with machines, whether crystalline, metallic, organic, Otherworld, Planar, hybrid, mixed, or otherwise, is unquestionable and inviolable. Inquisitor Velasi once remarked the following: distances and compositional differences are merely poor observations when an alicorn is part of an equation. It is the reason she has been deemed Poneissiah.
It is impossible Chisan Nas lied. His knowledge is merely insufficient; he has not learned the basic theories of Constructs we have access to. Which is still next to nothing.'

>Noting the solid steel floor, cabinets, and empty weapon racks, there was a high number of excellent locations to perform... maintenance.
'Excuse us for a time, we are attempting to access Velasi's personal datastacks and will not likely be available.'

>Snout wiggling briefly, Raindrop's ears perk up at spotting the flower, eyes widening as both wings snap onto her sides tightly.
"It's beautiful! Thank you Miss Castella!"
>A wide smile takes over the pegasi's face, reaching forwards with her left wing to carefully grasp the flower between two primary feathers, though not before running a feathertip across your fingers with a third.
>Carefully retracting to take a slow, deep inhale, the Free Knight's expression turns into one of surprise.
"Incredibly sweet, and earthy. Really earthy, like subterranean. I've never seen or smelled a flower like this."
>Head dipping to speak in a quick, staunchly gritty yet flowing language, she takes another light sniff, then lightly bites into the flower, her demarenor seemingly appreciative after several chews.
"Mmm, tastes amazing. I hope it wasn't too hard to get, there's a lot of hard to find plants that even my dam wouldn't have given to herrrr- neeevermind-"
>Taking on a moderately sheepish look, Raindrop taps her left front hoof down on the tray, lifting it up with the same to expose a wide selection of wrapped real food, a few of which you recognized, arrayed around a center bowl filled with various chunks.
"Don't worry, we're probably done for tonight, and I was cooling off. So! Freshly grilled, or baked, squid, crab, shrimp, clams, and ocean fish in young efflo leaves. Like cabbage but better tasting. Red sprinkles in the little container is a spicy mix, the white tiny squares on everything is sea salt, and the blue sprinkles-"
>Halting to blink once, the right wing lifts in thought before patting her side.
"Charred Moors saphor-stalk. It's got a nice, cool berry flavor, like blueberries but a bit softer. It's sometimes used as a medicine for birds. Like me!"
>Cracking a grin while flexing her wings, Raindrop points a single feather at the central bowl.
"Bright yellow pieces are pineapple, whole green ones are kiwi, scraped of course, soft yellow is mango, blue is ocean melon, and the red ones are an underwater berry that Ferron love to hate. They're a bit sour at first but get sweeter the longer you chew. You get first pick, of course!"

>>354017
"You and me both-"
>Making an agreeing snort, the outermost layer of Naliyna's armor plates ripple in dark hues while the visor imprints a quick pair of sharp, muted blue glows.
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <Resonance Survey
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Stalker's Eye

>Finding nothing amiss or added across the pouches, that first step back into... The Party Bunker, your impression was: business as usual.
>Outside of quiet disagreemarents between the Lunar and Empire Lorekeeprs on the east side, most pointing to opened lockers, boxes, and chests, all of which featured archaic Canterlot styles or symbols long out of place and taste.
>While you could tell the various objects spread about or being inspected were Solar related, the most common was intensely bright orange palladine along with some pallatine, the crystallized and fully metallic difficult to tell without a close examination.
>None were recognizable... or even remotely whole.
>For their part the Dark Horse Cultists had been called in a short time ago, carefully studying the books and tomes in front of them.
>Aside the one Naliyna had spoken to, only now settling down in her chair to sniff pages, their lazy postures and forward slouching indicated high calm.

>Noting a distinct lack of Amerose's unique robe among the standard crystalline-whites, purples, and few rare blue Lunar varieties, Naliyna's head turns several degrees left.
>Clicking into your radio channel amid a small buzz, the exoframe's ringing thumps northward cover the static.
*"Straight south at the dock means Amerose has.. that one red eyed batpony Enchained, can never remember his name, with her in the north buildings. Watch my flanks, I'm going to Wake the Beasts if they're around-"*
>Helmet dipping a hoof's height down, the oldest Remostrine daughter breaks into a heavy, thundering stride right as the lance and battering ram brighten into profuse cascades of fuchsia.
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <E.Ramming Speed
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]

PRIMAL LEADERSHIP: all Razorback (Initiating), Lunar/Second Dynasty/Solar (When Needs Must), Watch Guard (Desperate Allies), and Ruling Councilierge Vestal Gardenia (Near-Hostile) must now add +3 to all rolls.
ALL penalties from Operational Fatigue are negated for 7 turns.

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eitpHYcspF4

>>353974
('I'll stick to celebrating every momarent I'm not chained down by politics, witherstabbing, or being forced t-')
>Half of Vestal Gardenia's bemused, not-quite-a-retort flickers out of comprehension.

>Surveying the archaic black Arena before landing light and neat on solidly packed ground, it was a barely modified, though entirely restored First (and only) Pegasi-Batpony League Era structure, the half-roofed over top once used for do-or-die tests.
>As the internal complex was taken up by hundreds of seats in wide, comfortable rows, numerous external landing platforms, barely seen from below, led into symmetrical staircases, along with a few recently rebuilt slides.
>Running throughout the false exterior walls would be steep and parallel staircases allowing for a quick run to the top.

>Nearly blocking the larger north facing entrance were clusters of Moor cats and orange hulls in viciously packed heaps, not a single movemarent to be seen.
>Passing by the first few bodies and hulls and onto short black stairs, there were, strangely, no scents of feline blood nor from the exotic, acrid energy weapons.

>From high above comes a heavy, dual snap-cracks of particle whips splitting air molecules in their path, followed by a fleeting taste of bitter hatred.
[1d6 = 6] <Mercy: ENRAGED!
[1d6 = 2] <Spectrum Dive
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <B.Pegasi Heavy Weapons: Construct Particle Whips
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <B.Auto-Stealth
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10] <E.Assault
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12]
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15]
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13] <B.Ambush Assault
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] <E.Flight
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]

('Lunar felines? No, there is no further suppor-')
('Yes there bloody is! The Moors protects itself and those bound by extension to it! Aid Mercy in killing one of that pair and the rest will scatter-')
('Are you truly insane!? I cannot expect a single heavily traumatized, barely trained Spirit Walker and a single marecenary to win against those odds, Gardenia!')
>Flickers of hard intent pass through the psionic link, Vestal's tone dead cold.
('You will be proven wrong. ..she is lost in the ebb and flow of combat, just as she ought to be. Pegasus, find a chance to slip inside the minimum range of that pair, doing so will force them to fire upon each other, use that as a distraction. They have too marely weapons to effectively scan their environmarent and will be blinded. Locate one of ten external heavy missile pods equinedistant across the upper hull, search for-')
>Two series of side-by-side large triangular shapes in a specific pattern flash into your thoughts briefly.
('On an open side, and press these in sequence, that will detonate the internal munitions. You will have to take cover, but remember this: that trick will only work one time against a pair.')
>A number of back and forth triangles appear, being stomped on by a bloody silverine-gilded hoof, composing a short melody of electric chimes followed by a trace image of the 11th Councilierge snarling.
('That is a true Arena where only the most capable, intelligent, strongest, quickest, or most daring prevail. Good hunting, Sunny-')

('Eight minutes until the Shattering Skies is dragged into atmosphere. And, Razorback, for the last time: individual destruction is no longer possible. That’s been said twice now. Do not make it a third.')
('I sincerely hope the Otherworld Harpies made every last component to weather fifteen millennia with ease-’)
('We will know soon.')

>>353988
>Sensing Vestal Gardenia's presence turn in your direction, the marental voice was ruthlessly flat.
('I have aided the honored humans of Stalliongrad untold times. It is to their credit I was taught how to bypass Wish Disc laws on their direct behalf.')
>Physically lifting her head and glancing left at the line of Operators firing and reloading, the eye rolls in your direction with a firm, distant tone, then focuses forwards.
('It is a shame we will never be allies.')

>Hearing a few snickers from Operators around you, the Spiker's heavy recoil was reassuring, though the limited visible impacts into the leading earth mare Lunar Tainted slightly less so.
The Lost Legions: 22,607 of 285,678 Morale

>Two hundred fifty of the Watch, Day, Night, and Lunar Guards silently track the immarense, distant Spectral Lances arcing towards them, accepting death with all sharing a single thought:
('Wish we could've been friends before this-')
>As their armored kin slump down onto Basin Village's stonework, the sporadic pattern of low cohesion Spectral Lances weaken and diffuse while additional Lancers pour in from the network of translocation matrices, standing atop the bodies of their kin.
>The ranks of Chargers on either side of the entrance meanwhile prepare to intercept the first Lunar Assault Tainted, now reaching a bare 50M from the Basin's southern walls.
>Snapping her head up, the Watch General finally allows herself a relieved scowl.
('LANCERS! Prepare to counter-charge, distract the Tainted to your four-times-blessed deaths! CHARGERS! Climb the Tainted and shred them when possible! REPLACEMARENTS! Enter by number and replace the fallen!')
>Entirely focused now, the Eleventh Councilierge prepares to blink at the towering royal purple armored earth mare leading the charge.
('Strikers, target the Solar Support Division. Disrupt them at every cost. All unicorns and Razorback, wait until the first mine is triggered.. and aim high.')

>Followed by five Lunar Assault Tainted, the earth mare charger nearly disappears in a wash of shrieking kanpri landmines, ripples of black, purple, and red shredding through metaphysicality.
[1d6+93 = (5+93) = 98] <Outer Entrance Explosives
>Incapable of holding in their keks any longer, sixty willing suicide batponies grip their collected elemarental bombs tightly, then dive straight down and into the next oncoming group of nine-
[1d6+29 = (5+29) = 34] <Rooftop Ambush
>Right as the second and third set of manabomb mines detonate, diamond and iron casings lost in the bodies of Tainted-

>And is intercepted by chromatic turbulence of raw Anti in the shape of an earth mare, leaping straight up at the charging Lunar Assault Tainted.
('Live well.')
[1d6+12 = (4+12) = 16] <Lunge
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17] <Master Assault
[1d6+11 = (4+11) = 15]
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13]
[1d6+10 = (6+10) = 16] <Resist Damage
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14]
[1d6+10 = (1+10) = 11]
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13] <Master Sunken State
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12]
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15]
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12]
[1d6 = 5] <Anti
[1d6 = 5] <Bane

>>354707
>Well below the last set of Spectral lances being launched from the far Solar Guardians and erratic, seemingly exhausted Striker counter-barrages, the sight wasn't quite equal to the solid wall of incoming missiles and lasers from Stonehenge.. but it was close enough.
Solar Guardian Assault Divisions, 4 Captains remaining @ 11 Speed, 220M south of Basin Village
[1d6+20 = (1+20) = 21] <Solar Guardian Support Division: Spectral Lances
The Lost Legions: -27,659 Morale of 285,678
('All Strikers retreat from Basin Village immediately by love and duty, you can accomplish nothing more this night. Let the rest take up your posts.')

>Watching Guillotine's weapon effects crash and roll across the rearmost Lunar Assault Tainted, it was apparent they were solidly uncaring, though appeared to be, slightly, losing physical cohesion.
The Lost Legions: -28,959 of 285,678 Morale
>Slightly more effective at range, the fractal patterns of Battered Shores' weaponry strike deep through multiple rows of giant Tainted, streaks of faux-material slowly recoalescing in their wake.
The Lost Legions: -30,231 of 285,678 Morale

>Finding the Kiowa's controls less than perfectly responsive in your hands, both missiles streak into the heavily encrusted Solar Generals; the first impacting across the rearmost's saddle, shrapnel glinting as it freezes while the second dumb-fuzes on the secondary target's lower neck.
The Lost Legions: -30,639 of 285,678 Morale

>Overhearing a harsh retort from Guillotine to the Germaneighan Heavy Cruiser, the ancient Harpy weapons swivel to combine with those nearly opposite to her own: matter, barely matter, antimatter, volatile energetics, eminently refined Elemarents, and stretches of modified spacetime delivering individual mass-particle reactions stream into the rearmost Lunar Assault Tainted cluster.
*"Havest equine minutes of two afore mine reactors be depleted, ye grace!"*
>'Guillotine', Pristine War Destroyer/Assault Breacher: 2,490/3,000 armor
[1d6+23 = (5+23) = 28] <Primary Pulsar Array
[1d6+24 = (2+24) = 26] <Twin Molecular-Disruption Lances
[1d6+17 = (2+17) = 19] <Mass-Plasma Driver Array
[1d6+16 = (3+16) = 19] <Secondary Tech-Arcane Weaponry
[1d6+19 = (6+19) = 25] <Tertiary Tech-Arcane Weaponry
[1d6+14 = (6+14) = 20] <Tech-Arcane Point Defense Systems
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <Accuracy Calculations
[1d6+14 = (3+14) = 17] <Assault Vector Lock
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14] <Optimal Range Lock
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <Otherworld Harpy Anti-Ground Tactics
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <Stabilizing Realspace Thrusters
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16] <Pristine Tech-Arcane Repair Systems

('Battered Shores has rotated a quarter the primary crew out, no deaths or probable lasting damage. We're alone off the Crete Straights, closest vessel is four hours out and we have at least sixty weapons in various states of damage. We're going to take the biggest possible risk with our unrecoverable primary arrays.. get those replacemarents hot and COVER YOUR EARS NOW!')
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] <Astral Medic Treatmarent
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <Accuracy
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <Optimal Range Calculations
[1d6+40 = (1+40) = 41] <Main Arcane Armamarent #1: SUICIDE OVERLOAD!
[1d6+36 = (6+36) = 42] <Main Arcane Armamarent #2: SUICIDE OVERLOAD!
[1d6+20 = (3+20) = 23] <Spare Main Arcane Armamarents Preheat
[1d6+11 = (3+11) = 14] <Secondary Arcane Armamarents
[1d6+10 = (5+10) = 15] <Secondary Arcane Armamarent Repairs
[1d6+7 = (6+7) = 13] <Tertiary Arcane Armamarents
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14] <Tertiary Arcane Armamarent Repairs
[1d6+14 = (3+14) = 17] <Arcane Point Defense Systems

('Clemency, ignore the leaders. They are of no concern as they cannot be destroyed individually. And I would highly suggest utilizing all possible weaponry, not merely two missiles at a time.')

Nice to see that this is active again. Good for you guys.

>>355345
>Strained from balancing priorities and commarends, the Watch General's tone was polite, yet dismissive.
('An overherd this size is excruciating enough to marenage without adding the additional layer of technology. No, but thank you for the offer.')

('None save myself. I much prefer the quiet of being alone.')
>Slowly turning her head left, Vestal Gardenia's eye swivels to align on you, then forwards, her marental voice somber and flat.
('I did not intend to punish her with an unwinnable task. Such are the worst teachers, as Kenfield Pass showed us.')

>Noting the Reaper maneuvering back into a suitable pass, the large Rime cluster had a rather tenuous grasp on those Tainted flash-frozen around it; the outermost were straining to break free, ice fracturing and refreezing in the damp swamp air.
>Picking the four most visible Generals, the drone's view jolts upwards upon the quadruple launch as enough weight is freed for maximum air speed.
>Retargeting as each missile's primary booster system kicks in, the first Hellfire's approach is fouled, skewing north to detonate on another Tainted's forelegs and showering the targeted General.
>The second fares slightly better, drifting south and impacting an ice cluster in front of that General's snout, though the third crashes southwest between a quarter of Lunar Assault forms.
>The fourth's guidance lines up its path directly into that targeted General's exposed flank, shrapnel deflecting off into the face and neck of another Assault.
The Lost Legions: -31,216 of 285,678 Morale

>Weapons fire across Razorback's barricade and a final volley of Void lances from the gathered mare and stallionfriends tear through the first two clusters of charging Tainted on screen, but were still not slowing them down.
-43,302 of 285,648 Morale

>Nearly burned out from their efforts, Bren shouts for Razorback's combined unicorns, including Krinza, to retreat and recover.
>Pausing in front of the Basin's sacrificial circle to stare at the hundreds of dead batponies surrounding the lone Dark Horse Cultist, the crew boss scowls as she dives into the Fortress gateway.
('Not one fucking second of this is right-')

>A clattering of hooves from behind heralds the Watch General physically shouting over thousands of Strikers exchanging places:
"Councilierge Assault Vanguard Battalion, Night Guard Combat Division, Night Guard Combat Support Division, and both Lunar Guard Combat Battalions, take their positions! You are all the second-to-last fallback, but a small number from the Crystal Empire will take up your duties if your numbers are depleted!"

>Directly ahead, the clusters of kanpri landmines had detonated while you'd been busy, much weaker secondary and tertiary manabombs throwing volatile Elemarentals upwards-
[1d6+35 = (3+35) = 38] <Secondary Entrance Explosives
[1d6+19 = (5+19) = 24] <Tertiary Entrance Explosives
>Snarling kee's and keks in the distance rebound as the first Lunar Assault Tainted clears the entrance, though Broken Hoof lunging up and through the head catches it off guard, as does a surreptitiously placed war crime:
[1d6+63 = (4+63) = 67] <Unstable Plasma Cell
The Lost Legions: -47,882 of 285,678

('Hold-')
>As one, the teams of Operators hold until the last second, concentrating on the only target in sight: the lone Assault Tainted earth mare, violently thrashing her head to remove Broken Hoof's stained existence.
('Fire!')
[1d6+17 = (5+17) = 22] <Razorback Rookie Squads, 7 total
[1d6+21 = (2+21) = 23] <Razorback Veteran Squads, 10 total
[1d6+25 = (4+25) = 29] <Razorback Mercenary Squads, 11 total
[1d6+29 = (2+29) = 31] <Razorback Elite Squads, 8 total

>Streaks of purple cross above, the Lunar Airstrike Division sweeping into range as thousands of unicorns clustered in and atop the Basin's two-level buildings strike first, roiling the dim sky above in flashes of Void-tinged lances.
('May Evalesdraught aid you in scattering the Airstrike Division above us! East Ocean Moors Militia, keep them busy and off the rooftops as long as you can! All unassigned Solar, Lunar, and Watch Guard, climb the Basin's buildings and assist the Militia!')
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13] <East Ocean Moors Militia x 150 total
[1d6+15 = (5+15) = 20] <Day Guard Ranged Support Unicorns x 1,500 total
[1d6+14 = (1+14) = 15] <Germaneighan Mage Guild Bombardmarent Cluster x 50 total
[1d6+13 = (3+13) = 16] <Lunar Guard Combat Unicorns x 1,200 total
[1d6+12 = (6+12) = 18] <Day Guard Combat Unicorns x 500 total
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11] <Night Guard Combat Unicorns x 400 total
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] <Lunar Guard Combat Support Unicorns x 400 total
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10] <Night Guard Combat Support Unicorns x 400 total
>vs:
[1d6+49 = (4+49) = 53] <Lunar Airstrike Division

>To the north, a new wind howls into frenzied existence, the merry voice of a young, long deceased Killknight makes a deep, honor-laden bow towards a Solar Guardian Captain, consolidating itself to match her height.
"Well met, stallion of ages past. May one of us die quickly, and without shame."
[1d6+23 = (5+23) = 28] <Brutal Lunge
[1d6+22 = (2+22) = 24] <Grandmaster Assault
[1d6+21 = (5+21) = 26]
[1d6+22 = (6+22) = 28]
[1d6+22 = (3+22) = 25]
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21] <Resonant Disruption
[1d6+13 = (5+13) = 18] <Grandmaster Block
[1d6+13 = (3+13) = 16]
[1d6+13 = (3+13) = 16]
[1d6+13 = (6+13) = 19]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <Dissonant Rebuke
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+23 = (2+23) = 25] <Archaic Crystal Runes: Rimefrost Dance
[1d6+23 = (1+23) = 24]
[1d6+23 = (6+23) = 29]
[1d6+23 = (6+23) = 29]
[1d6+23 = (3+23) = 26]
>vs:
[1d6+39 = (3+39) = 42] <Sweeping Blows
[1d6+39 = (3+39) = 42]
[1d6+39 = (3+39) = 42]
[1d6+39 = (5+39) = 44]
[1d6+16 = (1+16) = 17] <Harsh Parry
[1d6+16 = (5+16) = 21]
[1d6+16 = (5+16) = 21]

('Hail of Glory sustaining next to no internal damage, I don't know w- they're tearing the armor apart like it's wet paper!')
[1d6+67 = (5+67) = 72] <Solar Guardian Air Commarend Division
>vs:
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11] <C-State Logic Repair Matrix
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <Accuracy Calculations
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <Optimal Range Vectors Locked
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Damaged Repair Systems
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <System 3 Repairs
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <System 6 Repairs
[1d6+15 = (4+15) = 19] <Tech-Arcane Point Defense Systems
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Stabilizing Thrusters
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Weapon Stabilizers

Lunar Guardian Assault Divisions, 8 Generals remaining @ 15 Speed, INSIDE BASIN VILLAGE
Solar Guardian Assault Divisions, 2 Generals remaining @ 13 Speed, 40M south of Basin Village
Lunar Guardian Airstrike Division, 1 Captain remaining @ 16 Speed, CONTROLLING NORTH BASIN VILLAGE AIRSPACE
Solar Guardian Air Commarend Division, 240M east of Basin Village

>>370028
"A decade."
>Repeating the phrase to himself once, then twice, Krinza sits up painfilly straight.
"In under six years I have gone from zero knowledge to being confirmed by no less than thirty Lunar Grandmaster smiths and enchanters as an equal. In the last two months I improved a pre-Dynasty titanium alloy half-mesh formula to be more protective than modern artificial diamond plating. Any competent armorer, with the right knowledge, can easily outpace weaponry, enchantmarents, and the tactics used to deny that protection."
>Mane bristling as if he'd just been slapped open handed, the chunky stallion leans over the M134 to give it a critical examination before rapping the weapon in a bright yellow glow, setting it on the table's edge with an affectionate pat.
"It is done. You will have great difficulty damaging the barrels, frame, and carrying handle. While I do not blame Spiral for losing his sanity over having such a view of disturbing human ideals. What I will fault him for is giving in to remarkably short sighted goals. And lacking patience."
>Looking up to stare at the massive coldstone above his furnace, then turning to eye something on the western wall, Krinza's head tilts several degrees.
"I have an idea.. rather, four ideas, if a certain someone could be less of a bitch from time to time."
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <M.Research
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]

>Reaching up to wipe sweat off his face, then neck, Helping Hoof sits back to eye the half-finished box frame.
"And I thought the early Minotaur Hegemony suffered from distressing growing pains. They were forced from being independent wide spread mining, trading, and crafting towns into a barely united hegemony under a monolithic nine caste system due to the Endless Marches."
>Turning both green eyes up, the green coated stallion's face creases in severe thought.
"Much too late for that, though I will state the darkest paths often reveal the most information. Take the vast differences between Old and New Canterlot for example: a puzzle with nearly all pieces in their proper place, except there are two sides always present. The viewer often and wrongly focuses on what they perceive to be incorrectly colored pieces, forgetting they are two halves of the same whole. Without Old Canterlot there could be no New Canterlot. Without Spiral, there may be no Razorback in the future, and vice versa."
>Giving Krinza's motionless form a quizzical examination, Helping lifts his shoulders in a relieved motion.
"Perfection is not an admirable goal as such a task presents an insurmountable obstacle, and my ideas of 'good enough' are becoming less appealing each second. I am beginning to understand Spiral's later thought process that, while different from what I knew, are equally intriguing. Now if only there were a few good chunks of promethine and some excellent diamondine here-"
>Selecting a spool of titanium alloy wire across the Workshop and directing it into the furnace for a preheat, Helping offers a brief chuckle.
"Catchy song."
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <E.Research
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]

>>370039
>The relay Sunny was after was right on top of the twentieth level, she cursed internally for not gliding straight for it to begin with, and instead set off at a gallop. Hopefully she could climb back up with little time lost.

[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] < E.Sprint
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10]

>Silently enduring the psionic bickering, Sunny memorised the sequence that was flashed to her. If only she could block out all but the most necessary communications.
('Acknowledged.')
>Objective first, however. The watch general was correct, against a destroyer pair, they were playing a game of long odds, even with Mercy's new capabilities.
>She spared a glance back up at the spiritist as she began her attack. The construct weaponry combined with Mercy's capacity for ambush strikes now made her the greatest tactical threat to the constructs present, but she was still effectively on her own against much more firepower. How long Mercy would be able to keep this up until they adapted or simply decided to raze everything around them, Sunny couldn't begin to guess.
>At the very least, the constructs might simply ignore her for the time being as a non-threat, which would give her the needed time to shut down the relay.
>As she approached the arena wall, Sunny looked for any hoofholds she could use to scale her way up.

>>370040
>>370042
>>370046

>>370034
>Bubba would do his best to ignore the bright orange visuals, instead focusing on keeping his eye on both their surroundings and the figure of Naliyna plodding along slightly ahead of him.
>He did take a moment to eye up a few of the Solar eqsue items as the two moved with a purpose, but quickly focused back on the mare.
>Despite the cultists showing an aura of calm with their postures, Bubba was on alert. Anything could happen, after all.

>Bubba would not stoop to that level, instead deciding to watch her back as she charged.
>Keeping his head and ears on the closest thing to a swivel due to not being a >pone.
[1d6 = 6] <M. Perception
[1d6 = 6]
[1d6 = 2]
[1d6 = 1]

>>370029
>Finished carving the Rilvenni's more intact skin sections into a large roll, all eight tendrils strain to lift it off the heap of flesh, muscle, unrecognizable organs, and gore underneath, depositing off to the right with an unsettling squelch.
"Restoring my hull should allow that as a self-defense measure. I have no idea what to do with this. Yet."
>Camera view tilting upwards, then down, the caricature peers across the chest compartment as both of the internal medical tendrils exit from their floor hatches to begin taking apart the right screen's remains.
"Correction: doing so outside will be safer.. then again you may not want to be outside right now."
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <CC.M.T #1: Deconstruction
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <CC.M.T #2: Deconstruction
>Snapping in your direction, mini-Wild's antennae flick.. suspiciously.

>Leaping back to stand on the map, mini-Wild performs a cursory examination.
"There is a newer Outpost approximately 149 miles west-southwest at fifteen miles of our current position, it may have a small translocation system. The remainder are seasonally occupied."
[1d6 = 4] <U.Cartography
[1d6 = 5] <U.Geography

>Unable to tell whether Anon had heard, a heavy chunk of something drops onto sand to the right accompanied by a shrill electronic noise.
"What was that?"
>Pausing to who knows what, her frame shifts backwards in seeming unease.
"My right hand. Correction: that WAS my right hand. Will have to rebuild it entirely after bringing secondary repair functions fully online. We may be here for a while."
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <Repair Tendril+1
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] <RT+2
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <RT+3
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <RT+4
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <RT+5
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] <RT+6
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <RT+7
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <RT+8
[1d6 = 1] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair Tertiary System Reboot

>Examining the bright blue armor suit, it was composed of unusually flexible metal strands woven into a tight mesh, further protected by overlapping semi-rigid plates across all the joints.
>Sections that wouldn't be expected to move instead had solid, body conforming plating with some free movement, and was somewhat lighter than it appeared.
>A series of muted chirps echo in the chest cabin while you pull the jumpsuit styled armor on, which thankfully seemed to be capable of expanding at the neck to step into.
"No identifiable targets in range."
>Collapsing itself back down into a snug, though not constricting fit, right as you pull the shoulders over and wiggle them into place, you could feel the metal draining air temperature around it to comfortably cool.

>Noting flickers of bright blue lights outside, Wild's left hand comes into view holding a 3M in diameter pulsing sphere.
>An occasional orange or red spot appears internally, the external surface glossy and umarred.
"Core extraction successful, it seems to be undamaged.. and I have no idea what to do with it."
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Arcanum Sensory Array

>>353885
>>370030
>Crossing through tangible reality through the Vortex, like you'd done hundreds of times was normal, for sure.
>But upon the various states of energy, matter, and vibration intertwined across layers that hadn't been experienced before, reconsolidating into a spectrum of solid thought, then translating back into your previous self.
>Save for the awareness there was vastly more than the minutiae of conscious physicality.. that was different.

*"What.. was that? E'eryone safe?"*
>Still cradling Hodch, now fully asleep, Katyal makes a slow, furious blink towards the operator's cabin.
"That's how Warp Gates function. Silverbitch made thousands. Taught the Dynasty how to as well. Natives say the process makes them more in tune with oneself. For ponies, their herd. If you aren't.. who cares, right."
[1d6 = 1] <Mindscape: Control Rage

>Running paralleled diagnostics on the unit, Shiibo places a slowly rising threat level level on the First Responder's facial expression becoming 'simmering rage'.
No interruptions or unusual activity. I am unaffected.

>Glancing around her, Dul stares up, down, peers at the troop compartment's corners, then back at the projections.
"Dul go through lots these gates. Dul feel like how Dul feel like."
[1d6 = 6] <Study
[1d6 = 4] <Planar Adapt: Tallus

>Eyes glinting briefly in your direction, Katyal points up with the left index finger.
"You good? And, how's it look out there?"
*"...big trees."*
"New Everfree has big trees, so what?"
*"Ya don't.. BIG trees."*
>Releasing a small sigh, the woman's eyes close hard.
"How big?"
*"Ever seen naval vessels?"*
"Yeah, been on a light cruiser, hospital ship, once. Why?"
*"...ever seen a battleship?"*
"Once. Again, why?"
*"..ever seen a livin', movin', breathin' mountain walk the fuck over a few hunnerd battleship sized trees s'tall Ah ain't even seein' stars without knockin' 'em flat?"*
>Settling for faint alarm, Katyal motions with her chin at Hodch's collection of items, muttering in a disbelieving tone.
"Absolutely full of shit, nothing that big exists. Pass me that yellow bracelet so I can get him in the room."
>Pausing briefly to squint, she sighs.
"Please."

>>370046
>Jeff gives the General a wordless mental nod, to leave her to her commarend. Had she offered he'd take something off her hooves, but better he focuses on between piloting the Reaper and providing ground fire.

>Giving himself a shrug at Vestal ultimately lone-wolfing life, he pans over to whatever Emerald is faring with.
('She's in for a world of hurt's worth of training, if she can't make me break a sweat. Failure is the best teacher, in this case.')
>He says it confidently, as if he's already planning a regimen of CQB training for the poor woman.

>Okay, he'll admit... he's not the best AGM guider right now. He either air-balled or ricocheted ever one of them.
'Fuck sake these are harder to aim than I remember.'
>Better he uses the rest of his five-hundred pounders, and leave the six Hellfires for an emergency.
>Luckily he was within a bombing angle now, tight as it was, so he switches the Reaper back into manual and aims it toward the Rime cluster.
>He switches over to the last two Paveways and syncs them to the bombing laser. Through the camera, he notices he's going to buzz rigth over Clem in the Kiowa.
>>354707
('Clem, need you to side step. Dropping two Paveways right on top of the Rime.')
>While his friend wasn't in direct line of his bombing run, he didn't want to him catch any cast-off.
>As he comes into release range, he pans over the Rime cluster to pick out the two most target dense spots and locks the targeting laser for them.
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] <M.Scouting
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8] <Observer Tactician
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]

('Incoming. Two bombs over the Rime.')
[1d6+18 = (5+18) = 23] <GBU-12 Paveway IV Bomb
[1d6+18 = (3+18) = 21]

[1d6+18 = (5+18) = 23] <GBU-12 Paveway IV Bomb
[1d6+18 = (1+18) = 19]

>Watching the two bombs drop and fall onto their intended targets through the aperture, the minefield in front of him begins going off.
>Looks like the Tainted finally made it into the trap range of the Basin.
>As a single lone seventy-ish foot mare breaks the line, Broken Hoof is right in its way to pull a move.
>Right after, a hefty volley of gunfire strikes the Tainted.
>It's only a matter of time before the Bloodhosts start joining in.
>Better time than ever to move back to a better spot.
>Jeff stows the Milkor back into its duffel with the other forty-mikes, and switches the Reaper back to its auto-orbit before packing up the control case.
>Case in left hand and duffel slung over his right shoulder, he start heading North through their forces.
('Repositioning back to the fountain.')
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <E.Sprint
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]

>>352403
>Carlos watches intently as Nova administers the potent doses of Restoration to a now unconscious Lejura.
"Buenas noches, seniorita."
>He will never not be fascinated by the complexities of alchemy. How a bottle of molten red liquid can replace what would otherwise be a lifetime of pain and suffering - even after medication, surgeries, and rehabilitation these wounds would still be felt for the rest of a person's lives.
>Minus arcane poisoning... can't forget the arcane poisoning.

>As the mare considers their resting patient, Carlos pulls out his own notepad and flips past the notes on Snakebite; mentally going over every action they've taken so far and making an update for Lejura for himself.
>Apart from discovering the minor heart attack and administering the over-dosing of restorative potions, Nova had her bases covered already. The Saddle Arabian should be in good hands and hoofs for now.
"Her wounds have been set, and the potions are doing their work. Update and monitor, for the time being. Let's an eye on how well she metabolizes that amount of Restoration in the hour."
>He sighs, already onto the next patient for them. He expected as much, going by the amount of occupied beds.
"Aye, si. Yes, let us move onto her next, rapida. Senior Snakebite's samples should be done soon. Hmm..."
>It seems both of them had a gap in their anatomical knowledge.
>Pred-elk was definitely outside of his area of expertise.
"Aidos mio, that makes me as well, Seniorita Nova. They are druidic in nature, si? Is there anyone in the Fortress that could lend us a hoof? Their creator?"
>Rubbing his chin is mild frustration at the circumstances, he gestures Nova to lead him to the Pred-Elk in question.
"At the very least let us gather as much data on the paciente as posible, before we lose the imaging spell."

>>370062
"I will always be grateful that I cannot smell whatever it is you're doing to that thing."
>Whatever Anon calls it, I'm calling it a sharktopus.
"And yeah, once we're far enough away from both the shore and corpse I'll see about wishing for something heavier than my rifle."

>While I redress in the armor, I look over the map along with the mini-Wild.
>I could use my own mini me.
"We can always ask the ponies at the first outpost we're heading to. They might know if that one would."
>"Luckily its not out of the way."

>...
"At least you can reuse it. Maybe."
>Hopefully.
"As long as you can extract any useful things from that, we'd be sticking around for a few hours anyway. Anon said at minimum fifteen for it to start... disappearing."
>Luckily.

>Flexing a little to adjust to the new body conforming suit, I rolled my shoulders a few times.
"We're holding onto it. Anon mentioned that it was pretty damn rare, and that's always a good bargaining edge."
>Pause.
"Though you'd either need to carry it or fasten it to your body with some sort of 'rope' to keep from dragging it on the ground. Doubt that would be good for it."

>>370058
>Spying the lower half of several rune covered plates and armor sections under debate, the sorceror's coin reaches out to inspect them.
>Confirmed not only as a uniquely half-crystallized palladine from early New Canterlot, each was a piece covered in ritual scribings dating back to the One Sun cult, founded in the 28,700's.
>What little Spiral knew was able to piece together from a small number of scattered records:
>Before the Lunar-Solar War began, approximately 180,000 ponies belonged to the secretive cult whom marely in Canterlot Underground suspected to have helped cause said war, among others including the Pegasi Leagues fracturing, which lead to the Pegasi Civil War.
>The abominable crimes One Sun committed against the Pegasi Leagues, various Lunar sub-factions, the Crystal Empire, Changeling Hive, but especially other Solars whom they deemed short-sighted, were not recorded in detail, though their punishmarent was.
>There was only one known outcome, that being the execution of individuals in a herd, one by one, committed by Princess Celestia herself, then utter disintegration of the remains.
>As for any belongings owned by One Sun adherents, the early Honor Guard willing performed the task of destroying their symbols, defacing iconography, shredding armor, destroying weapons, ripping apart enchantmarents, but took special enjoymarent in Moon-cursing objects used in rituals and ceremonies.
>The specific Solar Enforcer Armory that had been chosen by a Sunglobe copy was definitely the wrong one, though Spiral had no idea what the other five might contain; presumably one or two housed well maintained reliquaries with actual, usable equipmarent.
>Worse yet, those Cult of the Dark Horse mares would discover each excruciating detail recorded in a number of officially marked volumes on the table they hadn't yet touched... in six to ten business months.
>Which you calculated to be more anywhere from ten to twenty batpony years, even studious individuals such as them.

>Surprising most of the Lorekeepers with her charge, Naliyna's exoframe maintains the bright, attention grabbing exterior while passing into the northmost building alley.
>Most of the ponies quickly settle from the unexpected charge, though you notice the often bickering male Gryphon fearfully backing away, a fully white clad Minotaur bull assigned as his work buddy audibly ribbing him for hoping not to get suplexed by Amerose if he pissed off the trademare.
>Again.

>Far ahead, Naliyna slows to a quick trot, then a walk, lumbering around to check both sides of the interior intersection.
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] Resonance Survey
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Stalker's Eye
*"Notice anything out of the ordinary? If not I'll starting knocking."*

>>370072
>While he wasn't privy to the exact runes and importance of the articles being inspected, he knew enough to leave them the fuck alone (for now).
>Poking and prodding rune covered items would be left for another, less important time.
>Right now he had to keep several paces behind Naliyna.
>Dwelling on the inventory before them would come later.

>Sticking close behind her during her charge, he would note, in a bit of amusement, that the Gryphon edged away before he could get run over.
>Undoubtedly, because he'd experienced such once or twice before.

>Reaching Naliyna again, Bubba would slow to a leisure walk, before stopping to glance around.
"One moment, might catch something you don't. And I can try any locked doors if you want to be a bit more subtle."
>As if she was the most subtle of horses in the moment.
[1d6 = 6] <M. Perception
[1d6 = 4]
[1d6 = 4]
[1d6 = 3]

>>370033
>Mallia's outward expression seems to falter slightly--albeit only for a second, in Raindrop's direction. Unbeknowst to them, it isn't because of the knight--but to the information she was processing internally.
>Heeding the High Gothic from the Necron machine, and then the arguing between Witch-Two and Tox-11.
>And then, immediately after that, the transmission from Tracker as they respond to her question.

>What they tell her causes her to briefly consider this Marquis Du Spiral in a more negative light--the first reflex being to think that he had just abandoned them due to a lack of faith. Albeit only for a moment, shaking away such a simplistic assumption, while suppressing the dismay she feels from this information.
>The Machine God had not yet bestowed her with full comprehension.

(Daunting. Horrible. A stimulating challenge.)

>The Noospheric avatar of the Enginseer is static as it dwells on this information analytically. Eventually, she transmit a quick acknowledgement:
(I understand so far. But I will need more time to achieve comprehension...)
(I do hope I will get to meet them one day, they sound fascinating!)

>She pauses for the couple of nanocycles that it takes for the Tracker twins to be re-tasked, prompting her to likewise shift her attention back to reality.

>In the second or two all that communication took, Mallia's expression was softening again towards Raindrop Raspberry. Her smile brightening, and the look in the enginseer's lively green eyes twinkling with mirth as the mare described the flower's smell and taste.
>Their tendril-like utility mechadendrite, in the meantime, moving towards the arm bearing the Inquisitorial Auspex unit and begins to unsecure it from her arm using little manipulator claws with the same dexterity of her own fleshy hand while the Knight takes the flower.
>She notes the brief contact with that feather-tip on her fingers, head tilting slightly as she beams a little more with subtle interest...

>It takes a few seconds for Mallia to remove her gaze from the fascinating Free Knight before her.
>But she does when Raindrop begins expousing about the luxurious feast under her own nose.
>Mallia's eyes go to the food, widening slightly and hovering her gaze over the dishes as Raindrop highlights them.

>All the while the mechadendrite finishes unsecuring the Auspex unit and she holds her bracer as the tendril limb grabs it firmly and lifts it.

>Mallia's expression lingered in one of profound wonder, gaze lingering and eating the food with their eyes.
"Never thought I'd have such luxurious food available to me... Uhm,"
>Her mechadendrite holds the Auspex unit for a moment, pausing.
"I want to try the Charred Moors saphor-stalk! It's unknown to me, but I like the sound of it."
>Mallia's voice peaks a little with excitement, her eyes glinting like those of a child in a candy store.

>But then Mallia starts standing up and visibly winds up her mechadendrite to throw the Auspex Unit,
"--Okay, forgive me for a moment my machine spirit needs aid."

>The Enginseer swivels a bit to look towards the wall away from the Free Knight, and winds her body--taking a second to visually calculate the angle and velocity using her MIU and Micro-cogitator so that it hits the correct surface to successfully perform the task,

(++Initialise category two percussive maintenance protocol++)
(By the will of the Deus Mechanicus, render unto this mechanism the Litany of Percussive Maintenance:)
(Hurl the mechanism with divine vigor!)

>And then full-force throws the Auspex at the wall with the mechadendrite. Transmitting prayer through binaric channels through her MIU.

(Call to the Omnissiah, so that it may grant to us: alignment!)
(Call to the Motive Force, so that it may grant to us: connection!)
(Machine spirit, grant unto us: function!)"

[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <M. Tech Use + E. Machine Link + CQ. MIU
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <Utility Mechadendrite

>Then, after the THUD of the device slamming the wall, lingers to assess success or failure of the ritual.

"By the way, the flower? Not a hard find this time--some of them just kind of conveniently spawned in one of our forges when we came back, no idea how exactly yet..."
>Mallia talks in the meantime, casually, to avoid the onset of awkwardness
>And even quarter-turns her head a little to flash a small, warm smile back at the Free Knight,
"I should make you a whole bouquet of them!~"

>>370070
"To be honest I was, and still am, terrified. I have never, at least not that I can remember, willingly overdosed somepony even for valid reasons. Prescribed, yes, performed, no. I shou-"
>Catching herself with a serious effort before passing out again, Nova takes a deep inhale, face scrunched mightily while rebalancing on the float-cloud.
"Barely felt that one happening. Should perform complete physicals on all injured patients in the future."
>Setting herself down to clack on tile, the Ward's ears rotate several times, pulling the diagnostic disc to her with a short hum.
"Agreed. There is a minor risk of.. no, she ate an entire platter earlier. I will check every half hour, if I am not asleep, to be sure she does not vomit. Or drool on the pillows again."
>Spinning about to glance up at the ceiling, Carlos hears a short depressurization sequence, Nova sliding forwards to nudge the heavy door open
"Yes, but to what or which extent I have no experience with idea. The Crystal Empire.. may or may not have banned all Lunar Druids. For reasons that I did not inquire about. Which may have been a mistake in hindsight. As for whom reshaped and guided them that would be Old Horn, rather strange for a Druid, more so for a Minotaur. But if you meant which specific facet of Nature created them-"

>Not all that deep underground, and not so far away, Lin cackles madly in triumph, clacking her beak with a hate-filled stare at the steel box's contents spread out before her.
"Oooohohoho, you can't trick me with these awful decorations! I know exactly how to make her SUFFER! And ALL of THEM too! ..admittedly there's only three, BUT STILL! Gonna cover these in sticky flower seeds, put the thingies back, and they'll do every last bit of my work in spreading nectar around THE ENTIRE WORLD! Magic and manesy are the same thing, you fool! And others!"

>Blinking twice, quickly, Nova lifts a hoof up in a 'maybe' motion, continuing to the trio of Pred-Elk on clinic beds.
"Half of the time that is an excellent idea, the other half it is awful. It will be best to exam them first. Astral is-"
>Leaping up and onto the first bed, Nova double checking their hooves, then faces, pointing at cow without visible injuries.
"This one, and I was wrong. Astral Poinsettia seems to have burned herself out before, during, or after the Construct's arrival. Brume Gale's horn was shattered off at the skull, it was Sparking Fleur that had spinal fractures."
>Motioning towards the next two, Brume's head was covered in bandages, the second lying on her side, a clear immobilizing spell keeping the cow from moving, Nova then peers at the disc in front of her.
"As for this, I have zero clues why it remains intact. Tipper could only create one for ten minutes at most before dissipation. At current it is-"
>Checking her internal clock with a short pause, Nova frowns deeply as she waves it around with her hoof.
"Over one hour and fifty minutes, yet still completely functional. Regardless, I believe all Astral needs is a good night's rest. Fleur will be first as her injuries are severe."
>Floating herself over to the immobilized Copper Pred-Elk, though remaining on the cloud, the carnelian Ward's eyes align the diagnostic spell in place over her central spine, allowing Carlos to see... no noteworthy injuries.
>Severely taken aback, Nova stares across the upper and lower spine, then back to the central vertebrae, pointing out minuscule hairline fractures, along with moderate tendon and muscle tears.
>Glancing up to examine Brume Gale briefly, then orienting the disc in the cow's direction, she places it back over Fleur, expression dumbfounded.
"Sparking Fleur most definitely had eight or nine fractured vertebrae when I checked her in, and Brume Gale's horn was shattered off entirely, but n-"

"She will REGRET the day my creations were called too sweet to devour! And then ALL OF THE REST WILL SUFFER UNKNOWABLE WRATH! .....waaaiiiit. Did I turn their water faucets off before leaving?"

"-ow there are only partial indications of the trauma I am fairly sure were written down. Checking-"
>Lifting a notepad off the bed table and rapidly scanning each line, the hybrid's face twists from confusion to still confused curiosity.
"I did. Brume Gale: head trauma, concussion, shattered antler, slurred speech, vertigo, nausea, possible eye damage, moderate but non-threatening bleeding. Sparking Fleur: numerous vertebral and rib fractures, major tendon damage, severe muscle tears, minor non-threatening internal bleeding. Perhaps.. they are able to self-recover when sleeping, some of the Lunar-aligned Druids were recorded as capable of such. Would you examine Sparking for me? I need to contact my dam-"
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <M.Casting: Auric Search

>>370042
>Taking a deep breath, Clemency takes a mental note of the Kiowa's performance tries to adjust
>"Come on girl, work with me!"
>Bringing the Kiowa to a hold towards the Rime cluster, he spots the Paveways launched by the Reaper impacting
>Clem also sees how they impacted, mostly splashing around the Generals with one being a good hit
>As he lines up another strafing run, he hears the Guillotine's report
>Two minutes before reactors are depleted
>As much as he wants the warship to stay, it sounded like it has one more volley in it
>Clemency chimes into his headset to the Guillotine
*"Guillotine, release one more volley then save the energy for point defense. I don't know how the reactors work for your weapons, but if you need to leave the combat area, do so."*
>He starts to move the Kiowa over the Rime cluster but Jeff's message reached him before he got to far above
>>370068
('Copy, repositioning.)
>Peeling away from him flight path, he then flies towards the Basin center
>Once he's over Razorback lines, he swings the helicopter around to face the horde
>Still not slowing down, he watches as pickets of explosions goes off in their ranks
>"They reached the minefield..."
>The lines below him light up small arms fire alongside magical artillery
>Seeing the battle close to coming to its head, Clemency stabilizes the helicopter and prepares to fire at the advancing horde
>Once spotting the most clustered Tainted, he let's loose with every weapon system
[1d6+7 = (2+7) = 9] <XM 296 HMG
[1d6+7 = (1+7) = 8]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11] <Hydra Rocket Pods
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12]
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14]
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14]
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13]
[1d6+13 = (4+13) = 17] <AGM-114 Hellfire Missile
[1d6+13 = (4+13) = 17]

>>370071
"I can't smell anything. What's it like?"
>The wind shifts from flowing south to north, letting you catch a second whiff of the earlier stench with such timing that it had to be planned.
>Probably best not to tempt That Alicorn more than she already has been.
"Understood.. I rather like the idea of mines covering my hull. Preferably fist sized if not larger."
>Taking a heavy step forwards to access what was left of the Rilvenni's rapidly depleting corpse, the ruined screen in front of you is neatly dismantled into pieces which are quickly directed outside.
"Acceptable. Trade goods will be necessary before arrival. I will produce one variant of each type after critical, severe, and major repairs are completed."

>Bending forwards... a resounding ping that most certainly didn't belong occurs somewhere above the chest cabin.
"I DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING! THAT NODE EXPLODED OFF THE HOUSING BEFORE I HAD A CHANCE TO INSPECT IT! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME!? Also: full restoration will take approximately twenty minutes, but I WILL get one of those damned repair nodes online, one way or another."
>On the left screen, cartoon Wild curls into a nervously twitching ball while the eight tendrils outside collect the ruined hand, lifting it up for inspection.
"Planar water elemental essences have been collected and stored in three previously empty containers. Crudely. It may require refining to be of use. The remainder will be converted into Tryptaran mass, although you could try the tongue."
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] <Repair Tendril+1
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <RT+2
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <RT+3
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <RT+4
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <RT+5
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] <RT+6
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <RT+7
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] <RT+8
[1d6 = 1] <Backup Grade 1 Auto-Repair System Reboot

>Rolling the sphere several times in her palm, mini-Wild's lone optic peeks out from behind her hands.
"Contents: unknown elemental waveforms and an unknown form of high energy containing liquid. Planar water signature is minimal at this range, I will require significant sensor improvements. Value... cannot be estimated. Potential uses: unknown. Attempting to cross-reference-"
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Arcanum Sensor Array
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <Sensory Node #3
"It can be safely stored in what remains of the cockpit. There is enough of the cowprint seat remaining, however I do not think it can be easily damaged."

>>370064
>A riotous blend of sensations sift through his being, separating every layer of his perception before snapping him back together.
>A strange blend between the feeling of a sensory isolation pod and a neural graft clamp at the same time.
(... Unusual.)

>Thankfully he was already sitting and bracing his arms against his knees, or else he may have stumbled slightly from the jarring travelling effect.
>He clenches and relaxes his fingers a few times as Lonestar and Katyal speak.
(No need for "tuning with oneself" every time I use a warp gate. I will only ever be me.)
>His eyes flick towards the warning Shiibo applied, blinking in recognition. As Katyal glances at him, he replies:
"I am still myself."
>Staring at Katyal for a few seconds, his brow furrows as he notes the rising threat level matching the clear antipathy manifesting in her expression. He speaks to Shiibo:
"Katyal may have an extreme negative history with Silver. Keeping note."

>Hearing Lonestar's concerned and incredulous tone, he moves to stand and turns off the projector module on his helmet.
>Looking behind him, he picks out the bracelet Katyal requested and passes it off to her as he walks towards the cockpit compartment.
"It's unlikely to be an exaggeration. Mega fauna will need to be avoided."

>Continuing to move across the loading bay of the APC, he asks:
"Will the megafauna hinder our progress to the target location?"

>349303
>I grunted as I looked up to the green man looking down at him.
>I spat the cigarette to the side, raising my hand up to him.
"Sure, hell, why not. Offer a dead man his last smoke. And I'm glad that I could divert expectations so thoroughly."
>Maybe I could change my name or something?
>Nah, she's got my scent.
>They all do, really.
>And it's not like I -don't- want to still see Pella or something like that but...
>Ugh, I'm so bad with this type of stuff.
"Did I fuck up, man? Like, well and truly, all encompassing, full blown -disaster- level of screwup?"
>I fell silent, looking up to the man with all seriousness in my eyes.
"...also, thanks. It was a gift. Technically, from you. No, wait, that was the gaudy music player."

>>370073
>Failing to match Nalinya's pace and forced to jog, you do get a number of friendly hoof and wing waves.. except for one.
>That Village mare definitely had intentions towards humans that should only be detailed in thin graphic novels, possibly a series.
>Or willingly, out of sight, AND not in the Fortress.

*"Oh, that? Naaaaaah, I was taking a test run. Literally, of course! Y'know, gotta crystalwork out all the odd problems like two weave strands that aren't matching my stride perfectly, or a damned PLATE that keeps rubbing my te- er, 'certain things' the wrong way. Could've sworn I told both Techmarecers to remove it sometime before the last damned patches were installed-"*
>Emitting a half-serious snicker, Nalinya's exoframe twists back and forth in vigorous shaking motions until you pass between the central Enclave Armory buildings.
*"Only locks in these rooms are magic made. And a couple blood magic something-or-others but haven't seen them the few times I've visited Amerose."*

>Checking the few Lorekeepers in sight, Naliyna's actions had visibly sent potential infiltrators for a loop, which would have forced them into either being noticed or attempting to ditch their orders by now.
>The sharply compressed dome behind the Enclave's exterior buildings was clear of obstructions and would be virtually impossible to eavesdrop from, whether magical, electronic, or otherwise.
>The soul glyph reaches outwards, sampling individual moods and intentions, none of which were still alarmed, suspicious, or hostile.
>Except for the Gryphon's accusatory squawking, which felt well deserved after hearing his damned poetic way of talking.
>Not only was the Enclave's interior clear, those Lorekeepers here would fight to the death, and a little beyond, to ensure Razorback's safety.
>North of you, however, was an abjectly different, less conciliatory mind:
>Ruling Councilierge Stream Lark, number unknown.
>Fully awake, bitterly aware, and edging closer to a berserk rage with each passing minute, though was forcefully kept in check by an excruciatingly despised Seal of the Empress, preventing him both from dying unnaturally or taking actions that would be construed as causing self harm.

>Returning to brutal seriousness, Naliyna taps the edge of a hoofboot on the floor in a melodic pattern.
>A section of the northern face ripples apart after three seconds, exposing a dark, 4M tall, 6M wide oval tunnel leading further in, the crystalline exoframe dimming as she quietly steps inside.
*"This wall rephases back into realspace two seconds after entering, so do NOT stop until you're at least five steps in."*
>Entering a near-power walking speed, halts after ten seconds, poking her head through another illusionary wall, Amerose's voice briefly speaking in low, harsh tones, Naliyna responding firmly.
"That's not what I'm here for. No, I will bet my life Bubba isn't going to cause harm either. We've got way too many and marely questions to ask a certain black earth stallion."
>Head turning back towards you, the exoframe's helmet lifts while she speaks in a quick, clipped marener.
*"Amerose, Stream Lark, at least thirty Crystal Knights, probably more in the side rooms, can't tell. No Kingdom aligned, all Imperials. Say you will not intentionally cause Lark any harm out loud."*

>>370085
"Be glad you can. It probably smelled better underwater."
>Eugh.
"I.. wouldn't think that mines are the best idea. I've... heard about something called 'ERA' that might be better for you, and it should function similarly?"
>Armor technology in my future is weird, apparently.

>I don't want to know what that was, yet at the same time I do.
"Wild... I have half a hunch that you might be cursed. It would explain the repairs are so... delayed, to put it lightly."
>Among other things, really.
"I do not wish to try the tongue, thank you."
>I had enough of an eyeful of that thing through the viewscreens.

"I'd rather not take that chance, to be honest. With your luck today."
>Looking at the mini-Wild, I offered a small smile as she looked up.
"Things can only come up from here. We killed something deadly and saved thousands of lives without knowing it."

Master M.o.S: +2 for 1 turns to combat, adds two extra rolls for combat

>>370040
>There are humans in Stalliongrad, since when? He thought to himself.
>Lont did not respond, though his new limbs did twitch at Vestal' focus on him for a moment. He was done. Too much stuff has happened, and still happening. To himself, Razorback and the world at large.
>All within a timespan too short for his liking. He felt mentally numb at this point. The ground beneath him could crack open revealing that Tallus was one giant chocolate easter egg and he would not bat an eye at that point...

>He was about to fire off more rounds when he heard Gardenia's order to wait, so like a worn down automaton he did so.
>Watching the piles of pony bodies pile higher and higher made his newly formed wings sink lower and lower, pinions getting dirty on the ramparts. He turned his focus to the designated Tainted, if they can put her down it would make so many deaths worth it in the end.
>So with a wry smile he thought aloud to Razorback.
('You heard the Mare, ladies and gentlemen. Do what we do best, and give that Tainted one hell of a headache.')
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] >U.Punmancy +P.L

>Lont watched as Broken Hoof assaulted the towering Tainted as he waited. As he looked upon the doomed mare he felt something swell inside him. A swirl of emotions bubbling away under the morass of tiredness that had settled over him like a cloak. There was a growing need to do something, to help her.
>But when?

>>370046
>He snapped back to reality when Vestals' commarending voice rattled through his head. He aimed high as told, targeting the Tainted' head.
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] >E.Perception +P.L
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] >Thermal
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]

[1d6+7 = (5+7) = 12] >E.Combat Shotgun +P.L
[1d6+7 = (5+7) = 12]
[1d6+7 = (4+7) = 11]

PRIMAL LEADERSHIP: all Razorback (Initiating), Lunar/Second Dynasty/Solar (When Needs Must), Watch Guard (Desperate Allies), and Ruling Councilierge Vestal Gardenia (Near-Hostile) must now add +3 to all rolls.
ALL penalties from Operational Fatigue are negated for 6 turns.

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q9qjVj__dlE

>>370053
>Settling into an immediate four-point run between piles of Constructs and Moor felines, the quickest way you could think of was the steeper high stairwells winding around the Arena's false external wall, the outermost leading directly to the roof.
>Clearing the northern entrance's short flight of stairs in two beats and cutting inwards to the right, you pass through the hulls of numerous tiny and small Constructs, encountering nothing solid.
>Racing up the outermost staircase heading directly east, what appeared to be darkening blood, orange liquid, kanpri shards, and pieces of machinery coating nearly everything was likewise intangible.
>Encountering taller stairs halfway up and powering over them, you encounter a tight switchback, retaining enough momarentum to rebound off in a blind jump, after which you exit onto the Arena's open top half-roof at less than half maximum velocity, now facing west.

>Directly ahead and across the Arena's roof gap, a second trio of rippling orange, spike-covered tendrils smash down into exiting Constructs, this time 10 Scout-Support long range units, nearly flattening them atop the savaged, yet still firing, hulls of the previously exited 8 Dominator models.
[1d6+50 = (5+50) = 55] <Grand Riftdrowner Section #1
[1d6+50 = (4+50) = 54] <Grand Riftdrowner Section #2

>On the western gap, Nibbles gestures for the smallest Moor felines into tearing apart the Standard Scout models, then directing all the remainder around the Arena to overwhelm the savaged, crumbling line of Scout and Repair units before they could be reinforced.
>Leaping up and over the Arena's exterior walls was a new sight: ten nearly horse-sized felines covered in archaic leaf scale armor, claws longer than your legs flashing Void-imbued kanpri as they shred into the nearest models, a few dragging Constructs off the sides.
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Heroine of the Moors, Rakingbay AKA 'Nibbles': Tactical Repositioning
[1d6+18 = (6+18) = 24] <Minor Moor Cat Divisions
[1d6+20 = (4+20) = 24] <Lesser Moor Cat Divisions
[1d6+18 = (1+18) = 19] <Moor Cat Divisions
[1d6+13 = (1+13) = 14] <Major Moor Cat Divisions
[1d6+20 = (2+20) = 22] <Unknown Moor Cat Division
>vs:
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13] <Construct Repair Minoris Models
[1d6+11 = (3+11) = 14] <Construct Repair Standard Models
[1d6+13 = (6+13) = 19] <Construct Minoris Scout Models
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] <Construct Standard Scout Models
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <Construct Dominator Standard Models
>Still incapable of joining combat due to sheer numbers of far lesser Constructs that would suffer friendly fire, the impressively massive Argus duo remain stationary, either defending the gateway's sides, or something else entirely.
[1d6+10 = (2+10) = 12] <Planetary Invasion Argus Behemoth-Destroy Pair: ?????

>Slipping in and out of Void spectrums at a dangerously high rate, Mercy performs a tight spiral around the quarter-finished gateway's southern post, wingblades leaving blazing pink trails behind her and coating the orange pseudo-metal with spreading cloud shaped patterns.
>A second pair of snapping particle whips are launched into the northern section, attempting to draw the gigantic Repair model's attention from her.
>Rotating their positions briefly to better cover the gateway, the Argus Behemoth-Destroy pair were definitely studying the Spirit Walker's actions yet hadn't so much as bothered to initiate scans.
>Mercy: 6 turns of Enrage remaining
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <B.Pegasi Heavy Weapons: Construct Particle Whips
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <B.Auto-Ambush
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+10 = (5+10) = 15] <E.Assault
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13]
[1d6+10 = (2+10) = 12]
[1d6+10 = (5+10) = 15] <B.Ambush Assault
[1d6+10 = (2+10) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <E.Flight
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6 = 2] <Spectrum Dive: Opposing
>Six sets of spindly, quadruple nanolathing arms from the massive Repair model twitch spastically across the gateway's surface, attempting to remove the stubborn particle whips lodged into orange material.. which were starting to burn in eye searing, pink-white hot patterns.
[1d6-1 = (3-1) = 2] <Gateway Repair
[1d6 = 4] <Gateway Progress
Large Rift Gate: 26% Complete
[1d6 = 2] <Construct Force Number
[1d6 = 2] <Construct Force Size

('Seven minutes thirty seconds until Shattering Skies re-enters atmosphere-’)

>>370068
>Calculating bombing trajectories as the strike drone enters a zero-maneuvering point, you note the central most frozen Lunar and Solar Assault Tainted were tightly packed together, all but one of the gold or kanpri trimmed Generals solidly frozen.
>Picking two optimal locations, a window on screen flashes confirmation, the Reaper and view jolting upwards upon payload release.
>Unable to hear much from the drone's point of view outside reality-cracking weapons, as you reorient back onto the Rime clustered a pair of heavy detonations are witnessed:
>The first Paveway falls northwest and high, smashing into and through a pair of Tainted frozen together, gleams of shrapnel barely visible as they exit into the surrounding group, though the explosion virtually disintegrates the pair.
>The second Paveway lands further east and south than expected.. directly into the Rime cluster's heart.
>Ultra deep blue-cold crystals fan upwards and outwards into the surrounding ranks, small chunks of steel casing embedded into newly flash-frozen Tainted around the center.
The Lost Legions: -50,140 of 285,678 Morale

>Checking the Reaper's status and weight, it would need to either swing out a mile and bank for another pass, or slow into a tight banking run, then dive a short distance.

>Near fully stopping the lead Lunar Assault Tainted's charge, Broken Hoof clings to the physically solid mare's snout, wrenching herself forwards and tearing up towards the eyes, streaks of vapor and violated Elemarentals mixing together in a gruesome visage.
The Lost Legions: -52,227 of 285,678 Morale
('That which was born neither living nor dead is rarely able to kill that which is no longer living nor dead, thus which of us has a single right to exist, ancestral sister?')
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13] <M.Assault
[1d6+11 = (1+11) = 12]
[1d6+11 = (1+11) = 12]
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <E.Reaction Speed
[1d6 = 2] <Anti
[1d6 = 5] <Bane
>vs:
[1d100 = 35] <Soulburn

('This trap is set, spring it-')
>Slowed to a bare walk, four Lunar Assault forms forcefully squeeze by the lead Tainted attempting to shake Broken Hoof free, which the closest mixed Lancers and Chargers take full advantage of:
>Lances held at a strict 60 degree angle, the two closest ranks of Day, Lunar, Night, and Watch Guard surrounding the Basin's southern buildings wordlessly storm forwards, long gleaming weapons plunging directly into Tainted legs-
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16] <First Lancer Charge x 200 total
>Two full ranks of Chargers immediately seize the opportunity, rushing forwards to leap onto Lancer saddles, springboarding themselves in an attempt to hook and drag themselves up with hoofclaws and blades-
[1d6+18 = (6+18) = 24] <First Charger Wave x 200 total

('Hail of Glory has lost half of all ablative armor and point defenses aren't slowing the targets, risking every weapon on point blank overloads-')
[1d6+66 = (5+66) = 71] <Solar Guardian Air Commarend Division
>vs:
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13] <C-State Logic Repair Matrix
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13] <Point Blank Vectors Locked
[1d6+28 = (3+28) = 31] <Main Tech-Archane Aramaments OVERLOAD
[1d6+23 = (5+23) = 28] <Secondary Tech-Arcane Armaments OVERLOAD
[1d6+25 = (5+25) = 30] <Tech-Arcane Point Defense Systems OVERLOAD
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Realspace Drive Stabilizer
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10] <Weapon Stabilizers, Point Blank

The Lost Legions: -51.559 of 285,678 Morale

>Searing Void lances ripple across Basin Village's airspace, nearly turning the entire town pitch black as over four and a half battleline's of unicorns punishing the Lunar Airstrike Division attempting to wrest control of the sky away from the East Ocean Moors Militia batponies-
('Damn it all! How marely of those fizzled out or did nothing?! All unicorns, one more set of Void Lances then switch to any other Elemarent, we cannot risk an infestation or worse occurring!')
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14] East Ocean Moors Militia x 97 total
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18] <Day Guard Ranged Support Unicorns x 1,500 total
[1d6+14 = (4+14) = 18] <Germaneighan Mage Guild Bombardmarent Cluster x 50 total
[1d6+13 = (2+13) = 15] <Lunar Guard Combat Unicorns x 1,200 total
[1d6+12 = (1+12) = 13] <Day Guard Combat Unicorns x 500 total
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <Night Guard Combat Unicorns x 400 total
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] <Lunar Guard Combat Support Unicorns x 400 total
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <Night Guard Combat Support Unicorns x 400 total
>vs:
[1d6+49 = (4+49) = 53] <Lunar Airstrike Division

>The Lost Legions: -143,524 of 285,678 Morale

>To the north, painfilly loud cracks resonate, accompaneighed by shrieking wind and stone shattering blows-
[1d6+22 = (6+22) = 28] <Grandmaster Assault
[1d6+22 = (6+22) = 28]
[1d6+22 = (5+22) = 27]
[1d6+13 = (4+13) = 17] <Grandmaster Block
[1d6+13 = (2+13) = 15]
[1d6+13 = (1+13) = 14]
[1d6+13 = (2+13) = 15]
[1d6+23 = (4+23) = 27] <Archaic Crystal Runes: Rimefrost Spears
[1d6+23 = (4+23) = 27]
[1d6+23 = (4+23) = 27]
[1d6+23 = (2+23) = 25]
>vs:
[1d6+39 = (2+39) = 41] <Sweeping Blows
[1d6+39 = (6+39) = 45]
[1d6+39 = (4+39) = 43]
[1d6+39 = (2+39) = 41]
[1d6+16 = (6+16) = 22] <Harsh Parry
[1d6+16 = (5+16) = 21]
[1d6+16 = (5+16) = 21]

Lunar Guardian Assault Divisions, 8 Generals remaining @ 15 Speed, INSIDE BASIN VILLAGE
Solar Guardian Assault Divisions, 2 Generals remaining @ 13 Speed, STALLED AROUND BASIN VILLAGE
Lunar Guardian Airstrike Division, 1 Captain remaining @ 16 Speed, GAINING CONTROL OF BASIN VILLAGE AIRSPACE
Solar Guardian Air Commarend Division, 410M east of Basin Village

>>353886

>With a curt nod the Warlord of the Vale turned towards the door, which was wordlessly opened by Budieca. At this a blast of frigid air and speckles of snow intruded into the warm haven.
>Beyond the doorframe there was the familiar swirling snow. After a short distance the white landscape disappeared into the icy blackness of night, though, with the squint of her eyes Sand Cutter made out the obscured figures of several Gryphons that stood in a perimeter around the entrance to the tower.
>Both Gryphonesses were well insulated to the harsh weather outside the tower, Sand Cutter sadly wasn't. And as the cold spread further inside the circular room its icy touch forced spasms out of the poor mare.
>Thankfully it was a brief unpleasant affair, and when Budieca closed the heavy door behind Ri'Vahz, a reassuring *THUNK* was heard. Indicating it was now locked and no more of the terrible biting cold will enter this night.
>The snowflakes had all melted away, leaving behind droplets on the floor.

>Fully turning around Sand Cutter saw that Budieca's beaked face was covered in snow. The catbird blinked a couple of times before shaking her head like a Diamond Dog, throwing off snow everywhere. Thankfully none landing nowhere near the pony.
"I see. You truly have experienced much. Please give yourself as much rest as needed as by the time you awake tomorrow I'll have some hot breakfast for you and proper snow ware for a mare like you to wear."
>Budieca said, beaming at Sand Cutter as the mare laid herself down.

>The Gryphoness made for the stairs, deciding to leave the fire to consume the rest of the wood and smoulder out for the rest of the night.
>Halfway up though Budieca paused. She craned her head down to look upon the scarred pony laying on her floor.
"Don't feel like you need to rush when you wake up tomorrow, and if anybird does so I will bite their head off!"
>Budieca promised with a trilling laugh before disappearing completely out of view.

>Sand Cutter heard her Hosts' paw-falls coming from the ceiling above. There was commotion, talking, wood creaking, a surprised squawk followed by purring. A lot of purring.
>This eventually ended.
>So too did the dancing flames of the fire, yet the warmth remained as a deep orange glow emanated from with the pile of ash.

>>370082
>Struggling against the barely familiar controls and pressure differentials starting to cause airframe lag, it was apparent the Kiowa had not been prepared to operate in 100% humidity.
>Retaining enough control on the flight stick forces you to ease off committing to sharp maneuvers, though you do eventually gain the upper hand during the first wide banking swing.
>Crisply pitching a quarter nose down and slide-rotating into place well above the Lunar Airstrike Division now controlling most of the Basin's airspace, as you settle targeting solutions down onto Assault Tainted, the electronic warfare console in the passenger-operator's seat beeps. Loudly.
>The chaingun's thrilling chatter is interrupted by quick Hydra launches, followed on by Hellfires streaking towards the now stuck mob of Tainted surrounding the Basin's southern entrance.
>Packed together as they were, tremendous amounts of shrapnel tear through multiple ranks, only stopped by solid Basin walls or yet more Tainted attempting to force their way through.
The Lost Legions: -144,804 of 285,678 Morale

>The Moors clouds and fog banks once again become a blistering rave show, fantastic displays of opposing weaponry slamming into Lunar Assault and the few Solar Tainted charging towards Basin Village's southern entrance.
The Lost Legions: -148,062 of 285,678 Morale

>Far ahead, Guillotine performs a breathtaking end-over-end aerial roll allowing each weapon to briefly cool in the damp air, then skews directly south in a hard burn, pinpricks of exotic fractal colors emitting from what might be square vectored engines.
*"Mineself cannae leavest bondsae duty unmet ye grace, but willst escape when mine reactors aflutter dry-"*
>Pitching nose-down in a rapid maneuver, unleashing volleys of weapons fire shearing across the incoming Solar Guardian Assault ranks.
>'Guillotine', Pristine War Destroyer/Assault Breacher: 2,503/3,000 Armor
[1d6+23 = (6+23) = 29] <Primary Pulsar Array
[1d6+24 = (1+24) = 25] <Twin Molecular-Disruption Lances
[1d6+17 = (4+17) = 21]
[1d6+16 = (2+16) = 18]
[1d6+19 = (6+19) = 25]
[1d6+14 = (1+14) = 15]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+14 = (6+14) = 20] <Assault Vector Lock
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10] <Optimal Range Lock
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <Otherworld Harpy Anti-Ground Tactics
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] <Stabilizing Realspace Thrusters
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16] <Pristine Tech-Arcane Repair Systems

>The unmistakable roar-scream of completely destabilized energy containing lattices boom out across the Basin's eastern swamps, followed by insane secondary detonations from scores of focusing prisms turning into uncontrolled mass reactive arcane-fusion bombs.
('FUCK EVERYTHING BELOW THE UNCOUNTED WAVES! Half the Starside front bow, supports, and spare main weapons are gone! ..entire forward crew is in shock, second and third Astral Medics get out there! Guildmares, blow out the cargo holds, that salvage can be retrieved later! I'll dig a hole straight to Tartarus than let this ship sink after all our efforts-')
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9] <Primary Astral Medic Treatmarent
[1d6+10 = (1+10) = 11] <Secondary Astral Medic Treatmarent
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <Tertiary Astral Medic Treatmarent
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <Accuracy Calculations
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <Optimal Range Calculations
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18] <Forward Damage Teams
[1d6+13 = (5+13) = 18] <Central Damage Teams
[1d6+10 = (1+10) = 11] <Starside Damage Teams
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14] <Moonside Damage Teams
[1d6+18 = (1+18) = 19] <Primary Germaneighan Guildmare Close-Range Teleports
[1d6+23 = (2+23) = 25] <Main Arcane Armamarent #2
[1d6+21 = (4+21) = 25] <Secondary Arcane Armamarents
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <Secondary Arcane Armamarent Repairs
[1d6+16 = (3+16) = 19] <Tertiary Arcane Armamarents
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <Tertiary Arcane Armamarent Repairs
[1d6+14 = (3+14) = 17] <Arcane Point Defense Systems

>>370105
>Far in the distance you could see another line of expulsed, this time arcing higher than before.
[1d6+20 = (6+20) = 26] <Solar Guardian Support Division: Spectral Lances
Solar Guardian Support Division, holding @ 200M south of Basin Village

>Directly ahead, tracers mix with the rare few rocket-assisted grenades, rockets, and direct-fire mortars streaking into the three Lunar Assault Tainted clogging Basin Village's southern entrance.
>Most of the weapons fire misses Broken Hoof and the various military Chargers viciously climbing the Tainted; the few ricochets and a scant armor penetrations weren't impacting their performarence.
The Lost Legions: 153,614 of 285,678 Morale

>Adding the Spiker's own brand of pandemonium, you were left scrambling to reload after the first shot, fumbling in an additional pair of shells while someone to the right shoots you a questioning glance.
>Definitely not an Operator you were familiar with judging by the odd highland winter-desert camo .
The Lost Legions: 153,720 of 285,678 Morale

>210 Spectral lances crash down into the mixed ranks of Lancers and Chargers, the remainder diffusing harmlessly even as reinforcemarents streaming in from behind to fill in gaps, though you notice a few ponies glancing down at the armored bodies they were standing atop.

"Don't hit our allies you fucking morons!"
>Taking up the firing line once more after rapid reloads and a few barrel switches, one of the older Operators lifts a hand-
"Aim ABOVE the Chargers, not around! Chest, throat, or head only! Find your targets people, let's do this all at once! Hold.. FIRE!"
>Dropping his hand and raising a beefy .45 Magnum, the thump of shotguns, revolvers, and semiauto pistols is heard first, every combat and battle rifle quickly adds to the chaotic tune.
[1d6+17 = (5+17) = 22] <Razorback Rookie Squads, 7 total
[1d6+21 = (3+21) = 24] <Razorback Veteran Squads, 10 total
[1d6+25 = (4+25) = 29] <Razorback Mercenary Squads, 11 total
[1d6+29 = (6+29) = 35] <Razorback Elite Squads, 8 total

>A trio of Razorback's younger 100 pause amid the nonstop cracking of submachine guns, lights and heavies throwing cases everywhere.
"Knock knock!"
>Appearing in the right Tainted's chest is a tiny dot that pulses red, brightens to white, then bursts outwards in a brief cascade of dawn's glow-
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Six Signs of Daylight
"Grab the hoofles-"
>Streaks in the shape of a minuscule flying drake ram itself into the left Lunar Assault Tainted's snout, detonating in realspace twisting colors-
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <Chromatic Drake
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6]
"And throw 'em wide open!"
>Three human height raptor claws appear before the right Lunar Assault Tainted, slashing in at the legs and leaving streaks of ash in their wake-
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7] <Pyrotic Talons
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8]
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]

('....yet another round of Silver's arbitrarily idiotic, needlessly costly experimarents survived. You should not have drank those.')

>Punching one of the few open translocation matrices into compliance and ducking in, an imposingly tall, wide, bright white-blue-green-pink figure wreathed in the scent of Empire Permafrost stomps a heavy cladded hoof down.
>Standing to its full height and taking another step forwards, four burning yellow eyes in the center of a bucket headed Ethereal Golem stare forwards.
>Reaching back to swing out a massive single bladed war axe in its left hand, then a much larger triangular shield in the right, all four of the Minor Champion's eyes blink, a rumbling, toneless crystalline 'voice' echoing from it.
"Hostiles identified: Moors Tainted. Classification: ...unknown. Status: fully equipped. Combat usefulness: low, moderate pending. Standard combat protocols: useless. Requesting additional support: failed, no Ethereal Plane gateways available at this time. Attempting emulation of known equine combat algorithms... integration successful. Commencing risk analysis vectors-"
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Ethereal Eye
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Fractal Risk Assessment
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] <Ethereal Data Records: Batpony Combat Forces
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <Ethereal Data Records: The Moors, Tainted, Threat Index Maximum Priority
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <Ethereal Data Records: Solar Combat Forces
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <Ethereal Data Records: Lunar Combat Forces
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <Ethereal Data Records: Stalliongrad Combat Forces
[1d6 = 4] <Ethereal Data Records: ...Humans?
[1d6 = 5] <Threat Index & Cross-Reference: ......Razorback Company?
"MAXIMUM PRIORITY TARGETS IDENTIFIED: HOSTILE MOORS TAINTED, THIS UNIT MUST ENGAGE! NATIVE EQUINES, CLEAR A PATH FOR THIS UNIT-"
>Rushing forwards, the axe is tightly gripped and slung backwards over the Golem's shoulder, bringing the shield to below its neck through the ranks of Chargers and Lancers sidestepping to create a path for the brazen Ethereal.
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14] <Protocol: Rush Them Down
[1d6+10 = (2+10) = 12]
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14]
[1d6+10 = (1+10) = 11]
[1d6+10 = (1+10) = 11] <Protocol: Deflect Airborne Weaponry
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13]
[1d6+10 = (1+10) = 11]
[1d6+10 = (1+10) = 11]

('Councilierge Vanguard, new orders: keep all your eyes on that one. Silverine weapons with impact seals are the most effective at destroying solid Ethereals.')
>A cool, somehow familiar mid-40's stallion chimes in with an acidic chortle.
('Don't have to tell me that, General. Besides, that's not one of those that did us dirty and ran off during Kenfield, but what I wouldn't give to chip one of those deserving robot fucks to slagged pieces..')

>>370111
[1d43 = 1] <One Time Faction Support

>>370106
>Coming to a halt as she looked around for the relay, Sunny pondered why the constructs and other objects were intangible, or was she the one that was intangible.
>She hadn't shifted down into the underdark, and neither had anything else or she wouldn't be seeing them.
>No time to think about it.
>She cast a glance back down towards the destroyer pair, they were still inactive, and not even scanning. Some other construct model had to be observing everything and relaying the data to them. Best case was one or more scout models stationed out of the way, likely somewhere high with a good view of the whole arena. Unless those in orbit were capable of high resolution scanning at greater ranges than she assumed.
>Turning her head north, she caught sight of the relay and pushed herself back into motion, weaving over, under and around obstacles.

[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] < E. Sprint
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]

>>370107
>>370111
>>370114

>>370079
>The image shifts to the pair glancing at each other, then shrugging in unison while trying not to laugh.
'Inquisitor Velasi once argued that the current situation as of three months prior could be much worse. We disagreed.. then she bit a power cell in half and used it to set a chair on fire. That point was instantly conceded to her and all objections permanently withdrawn. We would categorize right now as: strained, tenuous, before a breaking point but most are actively clawing ourselves up from the various ledges they were close to sliding or falling off.'
>Aiding his sister to 'stand', both face you, right hand on their chest making a raptor's sign, left behind their backs, the Tracker twins bow at the waist.
'We shall try ensure an informal meeting with one of the Princesses, when the opportunity arises. Such events are difficult to schedule, thus we ask your patience. Now we must ensure Tox-11 and Witch-Two do not datastrangle each other.'
>An awkward two nanocycles pass as the female giggles, her youthful tone eerie in a manner that was difficult to place, yet nonetheless familiar.
'Much!'

>Raspberry extends her left wing forwards, a set of matte black blades flicked out and around the first five feathers to poke at one of the rolls, grinning as she does so.
"Luxurious? Nah, this is basic for the Sea's Bounty. They love cooking almost as much as they enjoy sleeping the entire day, scavenging for treasure, racing each other, swimming.. or everything else they do, really. If I wanted the fancy platter it would've taken two hours to catch, prepare, and cook. Then another half hour for the fillies to argue over which spices go best on what."
>Lips pursing at the, probably, request, her eyes swivel upwards, then down.
"I'm not sure how it tastes when alone, but it's worth a try."
>Reaching out to pick up the small wooden cylinder between the flat of two blades, she sets it down on the side closest to you.
"No rush. This'll all stay hot for a while anyhow, there's a heatstone layered on the bottom and a coldstone under the bowl."
>Muzzle quirking a bit at the last few words, the neon red pegasus takes on an interested expression.
"Go ahead."

>Hurling the Auspex with near-maximum force, it makes a rather hearty thunk down onto steel plate.
>Catching an impenetrable labyrinth of code that seemed to be more like raw data, the Necron archaeo-sapience emits a resounding chime.
'This unit is not one of the lobotomized Machine-Spirits of the Imperium. Invoke not the Void Dragon so carelessly Enginseer, unless you are individually ready and willing to suffer its attention. Repair cycle analysis concluded: sufficient force utilized to correct defective component.'
'HIT IT AGAIN TO BE SU'
'witch, either you chill your ti'
>Blanketing out their frequencies, Tracker 'sighs' before returning to the somewhat enviable task of data sorting.

>Looking up at the hangar's retracted clamshell, Raindrop makes a 'sort of' motion with her right wing.
"Not surprising, New Everfree is well known for new fauna and flora appearing in odd places-"

"YOU ARE ALL DOOMED! DOOOOOOMED I SAAAAAAyyyy oh berryflowers, I DID leave the faucets on-"

"And there's only five forges here, well, technically six, but that one's broken or something, that I've seen. Got to watch some truly crazy plants and creatures in the uncharted and unexplored Wild Clouds when I was a bit younger. Compared to those underground flowers are interesting, but not all that odd."
>Eyebrows wiggling up and down precisely three times, the Free Knight's face creases with a mildly worrying smile, holding out her left front hoof.
"You do know that giving a full bouquet to a mare means you want to be her close friend, right? If that IS the case.. may I have another?"
>Ears twitching at a loud buzzing in open air to the west, the Free Knight's lips turn into a wavy S.
"Oh no, the Landmine Fairy's back. Jus-"

>A metallic blue and red streak dives down onto the floor, sounds of tiny steel shod hooves rapidly scramble for traction that were failing. Badly.
>Sliding around several times and smacking into the northernmost cabinet, the figure bounces up to stand, turning out to be a 1' tall pegasus covered in wet paint.
>Two slightly glowing sea green eyes blink, first at you, then at Raindrop, a hoof shakily lifting in greeting as the absolute squeakiest middle teenage female voice you've ever heard speaks.
"Sorry about that! I was trying to get away from a bunch of glowbugs, turns out all they wanted was eating my paint! I'll ha-"
>Hearing another buzz, the ultra-dwarf pegasus freezes, then dives upwards, wings flapping once before zipping out into the night sky.
>Doing her best not to snicker, Raindrop sits back to sigh in relief.
"That not-yet-a-mare's name is Floating Nettleberry. She found an old Dynasty emblem that cursed her to be, well, gallon size. She's friendly but always on a sugar high."

>>370087
>Katyal's face tightens in slight expressions, side-eyeing the front while a single low pitched electronic crackle chimes in through the helmet, a tight beam channel opening briefly.
*"I can't be watching two people and a stallion that needs to be protected equally. Any time you aren't 'good', Lonestar starts acting in ways that you don't recognize, the Siren freaks out, or you sense something even slightly off, speak up so I won't be wasting time."*
>The link cuts off, Shiibo raising an eyebrow at the interruption.
'Four advanced communication implants.. significantly Post-Orbital Era. Type: gravitic. No ingrained behavioral patterns, indoctrination, or persona programming suspected. Her anger is not directed at or towards you specifically. External and vocal traits place her in the professional manhunter category: four phrasing indicators and one large scale macro-expression that she has killed humans before, possibly in large numbers, and does not find the act or process distasteful.'
>Nodding after a half-second and turning to a new set of readouts, Shiibo's avatar resizes to take up less space.
'Cross referencing the prototype's database shows thousands of high-level negative references towards the individual deemed Empress Silver. Over ninety percent border on the absurd. Correlations in progress, but I do not think she should be treated as a threat to you sir. Analysis of stress reaction based on known indicators; extensively positive and possibly reformative pro-equine cohabitation. Read that as she may not be or is incapable of hiding moods, expressions, and intentions. The prototype's advanced rulesets and working theories broadly classify her as a non-threat outside of extenuating or aggravated circumstances. I do not have enough data to rule in favor or against. Yet.'
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]

>Reaching out for the relic and taking it delicately with an appreciative nod, Katyal visibly fights not to grin, though her mood unexpectedly shifts into black professionalism, rapid left and right eye motions picked up by Shiibo indicating well trained memory recall.
"Thanks. Big plants I can deal with, especially the 'fun' types.. been in some huge forests before. If these are battleship size then fire, plasma, poison, acid, neutron, and exotics aren't an option, those will get noticed. Going around them is the real danger unless this thing's sensors scan out a mile out in every direction, sky, surface, and underground included, mega-forests like this hide perfect ambushes. Megafauna will be extra large, giant, or titan sized, pests included. Give me a sec-"
>Performing a series of slight, probable summoning motions using both hands, a dim, two-dimensional spheroid portal opens, lifting and placing the out cold Hodch inside using brute strength, though wasn't straining to do so.

>The operator compartment door swings open as you approach, exposing a wide, partially condensed combat holographic display on the driver's side, Lonestar glancing back with a set of ultra light, thin and clear earmuffs on.
"Answer's gonna be yes, if there's some and they's hostile. Got nothin' in vicinity fer two miles 'sides them trees, an'below surface scans only got fifty, hunnerd meters down. Nothin' so far. Got lotsa smaller plants in strips where sunlight comes down like we got 'round th'Fortress, none of 'em dangerous s'far as systems can tell. Kin'a like this place. Lil' miss, kin you tell what's aroun' us?"
>Taking a slow, deep sniff, Dul speaks in an audibly hesitant, focused tone.
"Trees here.. wild. Old-old-old trees. Not old-old-old-old wild like Old Everfree, but not young like old-old New Everfree. Trees like around human fortress home, young big ka. Trees here, huge ka like Specter boss, pretty white Gryphene, Twisted Wing. Trees not want hear us speak, not want speak to us. Long thinks. Slow thinks. They not hate Planar.. not like Otherworld. We not hurt trees, trees not hurt us."
>Silent for a few seconds, Lone's eyes shut tightly while trying to digest what the Siren had said.
"Right. No hurtin' trees then."
>Swiveling back around to motion at the display, the local area was mostly flatland similar to the area around Razorback Fortress, two notations shown in bright red at the top:
>The smallest tree in a 4.8 kilometer radius was barely 48M in diameter, 2,600M in height, and had an average branch spanning out 400M interwoven into dozens of layered canopies, while the largest was well over 900M around, but were much taller than the scanning system could measure.
>Tapping a small sequence of keys, the system attempts analysis and cross-referencing, returning multiple errors mixed with verifications.
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <E.Electronic Warfare Operator
"Species unknown. Density's off th'chart: harder'n ironwood, tighter grain than anything Ah've seen before in th'Moors. Then there's-"
>Another tap produces 3D models of thoroughly unknown shrubs, bushes, grasses, and surface mushrooms ranging from 9M to 50M in strips between the gargantuan trees, while a single wide, flat, proto-archaic creeping fern dangled off a single branch 3KM south.
"And-"
>Shifting slightly, the older Operator mutters in a low, suspicious tone, sitting back and nodding at the display's eastern side.
"Kin rarely sense thangs in place or outta place, not like Mercy or Hodch. Somethin' or somethangs is out that way. Makes me feel like we jes' got tossed outta a house we was given to by someone that wasn't invited."
>One of the rear hatches opens, Katyal's boots making a single dull thud on the roof, Lonestar frowning as her figure kneels down on the OL-3's left side, then crouches down, both hands reaching out to rub a ball of static.
"She's a real wild card, huh. That's Nibbles, she been layin' on the roof staring that same way since we got 'ere. Yer thoughts?"
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <Junior: Equestrian Arcane Magic
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]

[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <Junior: Tallus, Megaflora
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <E.Scouting
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]

>>370088
>Barely visible through plasma-tinged retinas, Anonymous reaches back into the gateway to pull out a rather plain metal folding chair, folding it out to sit on.
>Backwards, of course.
"Hah, you don't look like Kraut does right now, which is to say definitely a sack of minced burger, a few hundred new bones, and pieces that might once have been organs. When you start feeling that way, then you can worry."
>Reaching into the left side of his dinner vest to retrieve a thin cigarillo, he holds it out above you while grinning under the mask, obviously trying, and failing, to light it.
"This once, I don't have a single answer or piece of advice to offer."
>Theatrically giving up and reaching back in for a large match, striking it with his thumbnail, an invisible flame is held at at the tip before passing it down to you.
"Seeing the future's not something I can do worth a damn. Been proven wrong hundreds of times on bets that I figured were absolutely solid."
>Slouching forwards on the chair, Anon's head lifts, thinking deeply for ten seconds before speaking.
"Can say this much: Archmare Regoliche, lead Vigilite, called her entire Order together and summoned one of the Tower Guard's Master-Generals into their Mausoleum. Screamed bloody murder a few times and was threatening to execute said Master-General at noon. Master-General snapped back a line that shut 'em all up. They let her go without another word, then closed their doors after she pranced back to the Old Tower Keep. Both have recorded everything but aren't letting so much as a mouse fart in Stalliongrad without everypony knowing it. Two Councilierge broke their code of silence and are scrambling to replace translocation matrices. One went off radar a few hours ago, and four more can't be located."
>Shifting to place both hands on the sides of his head, the Third Gestalt seems to shrug.
"What you did or didn't do is about to be banned information everywhere. Rushya, Pongoalia, Las Pegasus, not even Equestria will know jack shit unless the Councilierge, Tower Guard, or Vigilites all start talking at once. Even that old ass Draconequis says as much. Tonight's being treated as if Stalliongrad didn't exist since dusk. Calm before the storm, eye of the storm, and aftermath are done with. Now? Who fucking knows what's next."
>Eyebrow raising under the mask, Anon snorts ruefully.
"You are the lighter, or so I thought. Welcome, but, just diamonds? For ponies that either shows off real high class or strutting one's wealth. Should've asked for a mix of all the valuable ones. Now, I'd give you a disc but it might melt. Or worse. Got any requests or do I sit here and possibly go blind while you go back to screaming at everything in general?"

>>370166
>Pareidolia's brow raises slightly at the unexpected communication band being linked but otherwise remains neutral in body language.
"Understood."
>Making brief eye contact with Shiibo, he blinks in acknowledgement as he moves.
"I concur with the assessment. Operational accomodations for her biases do not seem to affect efficiency at this time."

>Stepping into the forward compartment, he reviews the displays and charts intently as Lonestar queries the others.
>He notes Dul's reply as he checks.
(Middling age forest. Hostile encounters possible. Not as high a threat level as the oldest regions. Knowledge of local flora/fauna limited.)
>At Lonestar's comment of unease towards the East, he scrutinizes the display for anything of note in that direction.
"Katyal may have a strong desire to protect ponies and concerns over potentially problematic squadmates and cohesion. Should be manageable so long as efficiency is maintained."
>Leaning closer to the display, he grips the shoulder of one of the driving seats.
"Assuming animal behavioral principles apply, if there is something there it is currently assessing our potential as a threat and as prey. That it hasn't engaged yet indicates it either uncertain of its success, not capable of engaging us yet at this range, or is uninterested. Preference should be given to avoiding conflict wherever possible. Spiral's retrieval may be time sensitive."

>His other gloved hand runs over the various grenades on his chest rigging.
(White phosphorous may be inadvised given potential damage to pines in the area... anti-flora options limited.)

>>370167
>There was a wince and a grinding of my teeth as he recounted what apparently had happened to Kraut.
>It appeared I was severely out of the loop.
>Oh well, not like it -really- concerns me.
>Still, fuck, that's hard to hear.
"Still breathing, yeah, at least for the moment."
>I reached up and snagged the cigarillo, lighting it quickly.
>Nicotine helped with thoughts like these.
>Or, at least, the fulfilling of an addiction.
>And he doesn't have advice, which either means that either he hasn't seen it, or somehow caused a macrocosm of absolute bullshit the levels of which the CIA would blush and stammer in my presence of.
>Or profess their undying love and adoration for.
>Then, the man spoke on intel, the good stuff, right from the top shelf of 'fuck me' mountain.
>And then it was so much worse, but so much better than I ever understood.
>Like, holy shit, the amount of damage control was staggering.
>I fucked up a lot.
>A LOT.
>To the tune of the boogeymen that had been controlling a lot of shit against us basically just shit the bed in fear and alarm, running around to fix the massive gaping hole I just punted through Stalliongrad, and the world was collectively going to choose to actively -ignore- it.
>At least, so I would like to imagine.
>Given what happened, I think I'm going to hold onto that, lest I -actually- lose my mind and go insane.
"And I just set off the entire fucking powder keg. Or, at least, lit the fuse."
>I paused, looking up to the man.
"...can you get me to Razorback safely? After, you know, I stop looking like I chugged about fifty gallons of fluorescent paint."

>>370089
>Bubba firmly made a resolution to never be in the same room alone with that mare.
>Those weird comics the japanese made were not something he ever planned on becoming the protagonist of.
"Well that means I won't be able to use my lockpick set here, then."
>Shame, he hasn't had many opportunities to break and enter sneakily yet.

>Bubba's attention would idly keep itself focused on Nalinya as he listened to the Gryphon squawking away behind the two, and briefly on Lark's emotions.

>As she resumed moving, he'd swiftly follow behind her to ensure he wasn't introduced to the inside of a wall, before relaxing.
>Very slightly.
"I do not intend to intentionally cause Lark any harm."
>He would repeat clearly and firmly.

>>370103
"My scent detection and analysis systems were destroyed after attempted exfiltration from the Construct Assault Lander. I will have to restore my eye first, it is currently functioning at less than thirty percent efficiency."
>Placing the Rilvenni's core in what remained of her head unit cockpit with the unique noise of wet cowprint seat compressing, Wild emits a short beep.
"That either means the Explosive-Reactive Armor system, the External Reactor Activation sequence, or the Extensive Research on.. that is strange, all further information on the third is listed as redacted. Has to be the first then. My currently functional secondary nodes contain limited data on that topic, Would need to bring my full mainframe in order to conduct research."
>What you did remember was the use of semi-dry mix concrete and cardboard spaced 'armor', which did work quite well on field refit T-28's... against 7MM to 10MM standard calibers.
>And added an extra two tons which often turned the ersatz T-28 "B" types into shitty but possibly useful pillboxes, or were turned into cheap mass coffins depending on the combat theater in question.

>On the left screen, mini-Wild's sole 'eye' compresses, obviously trying to squint, while her antennae twitch angrily, simulating equine ears.
"Your statement is correct. Of the past twenty-nine critical repairs I have attempted, all excluding three have failed catastrophically, or catastrophically failed. There is a 'tactic' That Which Cannot Be Named taught before allowing me to continue my duties as a transport. I was only to utilize it under desperate circumstances. The current situation qualifies given the.."
>Lifting her right arm back in view, several destroyed connections spark briefly.
"Extensive physical damage sustained. Attempting to initialize that process now, but it will take a minute to charge."
>Making a slightly annoyed beep, Wild stands upright, heavy materials above and left of you shifting while her repair tendrils disappear upwards.
"As I cannot preserve the tongue due to lacking refrigeration or freezing systems and I have restored my Tryptaran mass to forty-four-point-eight percent, the tongue will instead be converted in the next ten minutes."
>The tone wasn't accusatory, instead being somewhat disappointed.
>If somewhat felt like 'completely'.

"I have succeeded in isolating six of thirty plus waveforms and energetic responses from the Rilvenni's core. Mechanically speaking it could be utilized as an inefficient power source on a purely solid-state and limited electricity equipped machine. Magically speaking, it can be utilized to vastly empower Elemarental discharges by-"
>The Eldritch-Android's frame twitches, shaking the central cabin briefly.
"A minimal factor of ten and a theoretical maximum factor of thirty five. I was not redesigned to take advantage of nor equipped to utilize water Elemarentals. Further results will have to wait."

>Hearing a series of low hums above and below the chest cabin, the Wild caricature on screen freezes as it processes your thought processes, then nods after some measured thought.
"Agreed. This event has caused an exponentially positive shift: removing such a difficult to kill predator will drastically calm and embolden native equines, vastly improving their capabilities and capacities to harvest, collect, scavenge, and potentially explore previously hostile coastal regions. The moderate physical damage to my repairable body is less than one-millionth of one percent importance. ..I will need several minutes mom, attempting to restore all damaged nodes and system."
>Six sets of loud hums rise to an annoying pitch, then discharge as her external speakers blare accompanied by a sequence of explosive popping noises:
"I AM NOT REPAIRING MYSELF. INSTEAD, I WILL NOW BE REPLACING THE DEFECTIVE, FAULTY, AND PROBABLY STUPID COMPONENTS THAT I WAS REBORN WITH."
[1d6 = 5] <Primary Transport Systems Reboot
[1d6 = 4] <Complete Data Node Access Reboot
[1d6 = 3] <Damaged Electronic Systems Reboot
[1d6 = 3] <Primary, Secondary, and Tertiary Repair System Reboots
[1d6 = 6] <Internal Monitoring Systems Reboot
[1d6 = 3] <How Well Does Gaslighting One's Self Really Work?

>>370168
>Twitching as reams of code appear in minuscule, the avatar makes an acknowledging nod.
'Katyal's individual volatility index should have precipitated five lethal assaults. At current she has displayed two poorly identified major stressors and five major; the latter function as a floating multiplier increasing in direct relation to equines, the former decreases in all other situations. You should have brought the prototype with us sir, there are unusual macro-expressions and vocal cues that I do not have comparisons of.'
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8]
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
>Scrolling through rapid pink micro-text, the advanced model closes them off, silent for a split-second before speaking abruptly.
'We were both wrong. She retains no selective or preconceived biases, and religious or cultural contamination vectors are zero. She has almost completely assimilated into a large native equine culture subset without.. failure.'
>Visibly surprised at her own words, the avatar waves one hand over a series of indices comparing random Operators to pre-transitional projected estimates:
>Excluding the FNG's and Rookies, all were spread fairly even across the 20% to 80% categories, individual photos listed next to character flaws, preferential cohabitation based on species, faction approval ratings, multi-species herd interactions, and certain other proclivities that more outgoing humans found appealing.
>...the last one to scroll, slowly, lists you in the lower 40%.
>Phrases such as 'lacks genuinely agreeable cultural and social interactions necessary to affirm at will contact', 'questionable cross-species communication methods', 'minimal native deescalation knowledge', 'experiences moderate to significant distress when dealing with common native verbiage, notably puns', and 'individual character is either uniquely disinteresting or arbitrarily harsh when in contact with equines; few inbetweens'.
>Shiibo turns to face you, arms folding with a minute, possibly haughty smile.
'Apologies sir. I did not write all of those.'

>Examining the holographic setup's expanded view, the surrounding region was entirely devoid of movement, each of the trees tagged by distance to the Warp Gate directly underneath the OL-3, currently being mapped to the nearest millimeter.
>Locating neither heat signatures or movement, it switches to an automated prospecting view mode, immediately revealing echoes that were probably mythril flakes embedded throughout bark, then increased numbers of rare and trace elements in local vicinity, ratio increasing towards the east.
>Picking up dozens of minor crystalline nodes in clusters or pockets underneath tree roots, the next displays a much larger number of rares and exotics, most of which were analogous to those from your homeworld.
>The remainder, a mixture of what ponies deemed semi-inert, reactive-inert, and either long-stable or meta-stable elemarental particles, were causing the processing system fits.
>Amusingly it failed in classifying the exotics as radioactive, returning a constant error fault due to atomic bonds showing negligible or zero decay, nearly opposite of the poorly studied entropics that Tallus was notorious for.

*"Think Ah remember somethin', dunno how useful this'll be. Most th'Lunar marefriends been talkin' 'bout th'trees 'round Fortress, growth rings too big an'whatnot. Them se-qoy-yas is unnatural, they kin grow three ta six inches a year. Ain't like redwoods or maples at all. These ones is two ta six times that. Not a known species either."*
>Nodding in a short, jerky motion, Lone speaks towards the gunner-operator seat's direction, losing his accent entirely while taking on a flatly bemused officer's tone.
"Never thought I'd hate someone more than Emerald on the first meeting. Katyal dug into my nerves quite a bit, but now more I get to know her, the less I hate.
And whatever your name is, start short range loose cohesion pickup at outer hull, tighten one factor every hundred meters and deep trench in parallel. Starting vector: one-sixty to one-ninety horizontal, then sweep one-fifty to two-hundred lateral. Ignore non-mobiles, echoes, reflects, rebounds, and rotate surface to sky every five seconds."
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <ExoTech Optronic Particle-Scanner

"Consider me advised then. Jeff normally ain't one to bullshit around important details like a woman being bodyguard for a royal mare halfway around the world, but sometimes he doesn't share half what he knows. Just like those that don't brief others of what they're involved in."
>Whether the slightly irritated last phrase was directed at you or not isn't apparent, Lonestar taking hold of the driver's seat controls, easing them forwards as the OL-3 tilts forwards a half-degree and slowly picking up speed directly north.
"Whatever's out east, if it doesn't bother us we'll leave it in peace. If it does.. pieces will have to do. Going low, slow, and easy.
Now I don't know shit outside the Moors but if Nibbles was worried she'd be digging her claws in someone's face and pointing in the safest direction. Don't understand Moor cats at all. They go nuts when there's danger, otherwise they're lazy or asleep. Or cranky little shit stirrers."

>Visible on the display's center, Katyal sits down cross-legged facing east, one hand making rapid circles around the static, other casually flipping the bird southwards.
*"One of the older records I have at home lists hundreds of ways to increase plant growth and lifespan. A few natural, the rest magical.. with various stages of safety. Early Dynasty had wide spread breeding programs for most species, one resulted in a funky class of unicorns.. I think they were called saucerers. Druids absolutely despised them. Lot of specifics that probably don't matter now. Supposedly they got wiped out halfway through the Late Dynasty. I'll bet my last crate of plasma shells this forest is related."*

>Alone in the troop compartment, Dul blinks down at a small book, then leans forwards.. to lick it.
[1d6 = 1] <Taste?

>Taking up what he presumed to be Lonestar's directive towards him, he steps around the gunner's seat and straps himself in.
>He notes Lonestar's and Katyal's words as he familiarizes himself with the control suite of the OL-3.
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]<B. Electronic Warfare

>Exhaling heavily through his helmet filters, he ensures that both can hear him before explaining.
>He starts with a nod down towards himself while looking over to Lonestar.
"Pareidolia."
>He then taps the back of his helmet once.
"Sapient assistant, Shiibo."

"I had planned to brief while we were en route. The situation at Razorback developed rapidly and left minimal time for me to act. I apologize for delaying. This mission is moving towards the probable potential destination of Spiral's disappearance from Razorback Fortress. This information was analyzed and uncovered based on letters, contracts, and messages left in his lab. Anonymous provided assistance in procuring the equipment that made this possible. Statistical likelihood of correct information was considered high enough to warrant the risk of this operation. Distinct possibility Spiral was attempting to find the original Dynasty ruin that split him into separate Elemental Cores in order to reform himself. He disappeared without bringing any of the maps, literature, notes, or the hololith he requested. Exact motivations and circumstances for his disappearance are unknown, but this is the most effective lead on his location we have."

>>370178
"I do not suggest replacing your... nose, until we are far away from here either way. Vision is most definitely more of a priority."
>Pressing my lips together, I hum idly and think for a moment.
"I'm fairly certain it was the first as well. And as long as its better than a cardboard concrete mix spaced armor..."
>Armored better against something it already had adequate protection against was... amusingly redundant.

"Do I even want to know what that tactic is referred to?"
>Something else being essentially eldritch to my mind today would not help my sanity any.
>I need a long drink and probably a two day long bubble bath as is!

>I was, probably not secretly, glad that Wild did not appear to be able to go into shock.
>Not did I really want to find out if she could, really. I've seen similar actions from gravely wounded soldiers before, but then again they couldn't repair themselves.
"I doubt we'd be able to salt and cure it in a fast enough manner, either."
>"And I doubt it tastes good, but I'm not telling her that."
>I'd give that mini-Wild a headpat if I could actually touch it.

"Definitely valuable, then. We can figure out what to do with it later when we're back at Razorback, if we don't use it as a trade good."
>The beach is at least marginally safer, if things like that lurk in the depths.
"I'll keep an eye and ear out for anything."
>...
>what.

>>370173
"If you do stop breathing, do you turn into a magical plasma nuke?"
>Snickering at possible implications, Anon stares off into the distance before snorting amusedly.
"Fortunately you're wrong on both accounts. That keg was made before the Early Dynasty, filled in the Middle, and fuse was lit right as the Late started. Second and third weren't entirely Silver's fault, let's call it, eh, sixty percent sounds fair. Of course, depending on whom, where the questionees are, and when you ask that number fluctuates. A lot."
>Left hand waving in front of his face, then clasping over his eyes, the glove tightens reflexively.
"Better lay off the whatever the fuck you did chug because I'm starting to go blind. The answer is a definite yes, but only after whatever you took wears off. It's a one way trip in all directions though."
>Tapping the chair with his left hand in thought, the Third Gestalt's voice drops into questioning.
"By the way, my gateways have gone from basically perfect to highly unstable in the past couple hours. Few weeks ago some started fractured and needed repairs every night, others have torn themselves apart with no reason, and a bunch aren't even functioning right now. You wouldn't happen to have noticed any out of the ordinary particles or energetics in Stalliongrad?"

>>370189
"Dunno. Not gonna try it, either."
>It -would- be a spectacular way to get out of this bullshit, but...it feels like I would be avoiding the problem.
>As much as I fucked up, if there's no one accountable, this shit would get ten times worse.
>Maybe if I vanished it wouldn't be my problem but...
>Fuck, I'm just tired of running.
"Oh, well that makes me feel a lot better. Not really, actually, but I figured you might find it funny if I said that."
>In all the proceedings that happened, I kind of forgot what I drank.
>It was...some heat elixir.
>Or something like that.
>I should have read the instructions.
>Or, you know.
>Listened.
>I lifted a hand to pinch at my brow, my gross incandescence hopefully shadowing (pun intended) my action.
"Yeah no, I figured I'd go right now and blind everyone with my goddamned lighthouse attached to my waist. Actually, probably brighter than a lighthouse. Though uh...you don't look like you actually -have- eyes. Or do you?"
>Had to, if he was complaining about the brightness.
>I blinked, looking at the man as incredulous as I possibly could, not that he could see it.
"I uh...was kind of busy accidentally precipitating a revolution. I may have not lit the fuse, or even made the powder keg, but I certainly dumped lighter fluid on the entire fucking thing. Or gasoline. Or...something even -faster- lighting than those."
>At least, I think I didn't?
>I scratched my chin, trying to remember what happened.
>Nope, just bullshit and pure panic, starting off with lust.
>Oh, man.

>>370107
>Although he's initially unsatisfied with the Paveways, the second one re-detonating the Rime core to re-freeze the Tainted within proximity was a bit if a break.
>Before packing the control pad up, he sets the Reaper to fly out a mile to re-establishing it's orbital program around his position.

>As he heads North through barricades and friendly forces, he sets himself down right in front of the fountain's southern base behind whatever cover was closest.
>Setting down the duffel and pulling the Mk32 out for quick access, Jeff opens the Reaper's control module back up to check on its status.
>He was out of bombing runs, and it would be some time before the drone will swing back round enough for the AGM's to be usable.
>Checking the action ahead of him, Broken Hoof managed to slow down the lone Lunar Assault Tainted. Swinging from its muzzle would do that, apparently.
>Up from behind the tussle appear four more similar forms, though getting stuck behind the first in one giant Tainted traffic jam. Lancers already had their spears hurling into the colossal forms as Chargers bound up and onto the invaders.
>Their approach is slow, and Razorback personnel begin laying heavy fire onto them at distance. He can at least pitch in with that, for now.
>Looking at the Reapers control module, awaiting for it to swing back into an attack angle, he hefts up the Mk32 and stabilizes it on a barricade to make a range adjustment. One-fifty meters, stationary, neck-up.
>He aims to the Assault forms left of the one Broken Hoof was currently snoot-rodeoing.
("Chargers climbing up any Tainted left of the lead, brace for explosive impacts above you! Neck height and above.")
>They seemed to fair well enough against small arms, so the non-lethal blast radius from the grenades shouldn't hamper them too much.
>Settling the reticle mid-neck on the best tainted he has a shot on Jeff fires off a four grenade volley, re-stabilizing before every shot.
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] <U.Heavy Weapons
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11] <M.Ranger
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10]
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14]

>Realizing that's probably not going to be enough, Jeff immediately opens the launcher to ejects the spent shells and digs around for more in the duffel.
>They weren't mobile, jammed up almost tripping over themselves...
>There's an idea.
("Making a general request: do we have any seriously heavy ropes or lines, available? The five Lunar Assault forms, southern entrance, while they're stalled. Tow line, steel cable, anything we can hogtie up their forelegs and drop them on their faces and top of eachother. Could finish them on the ground, effectively cut off that approach into the Village!")
>More firepower?
>Where did the Dagor get towed off to. He doesn't hear the M2 going off anywhere.
("Also where did the vehicle I came riding in here go? There's a fifty cal on it, if it's still intact we should be utilizing it!")
>Pausing to reload the Milkor Jeff gets on the control module and pans the camera over the Village, zooming out enough to get a general overview of the current state of the battlefield. Despite the Overherd he still needs his eyeballs to see exactly what's going on.
>He looks out for any critical defensive points on the verge of falling, high concentrations of Tainted, and targets of opportunity.
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <UHD Aperture Camera: FLIR
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <M.Scouting
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <Observer Tactician
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]
>Why does he hear a robot yelling behind him?

>>370138
>Mallia has to struggle to not crack an expression of any sort while the twins recount the Inquisitor's counter-argument. Her eyes glimmer with a brief mirth.
>In the data-space, the enginseer could help but cough out a:
(She bit a power cell in half??)
>There is nano-cycle worth of pause as amusement starts to subside to mild concern.
(... Inteereeestiing...)
>She had questions of course, but noting that the twins would soon have their digital hands full she let's her curiosity pass.
>Instead, her noospheric avatar makes a graceful little bow of the head.
>Her attention does linger on the raptor's sign the twins make, unconsciously signalling curiosity by how she focused her attention on the gesture. Her thoughts lingering on the twins for a moment longer.
>She could not restrain her curiosity this time,
(What a fascinating sign...)
>And, by habit. her avatar reciprocates by making the symbol of a cog with the hands in response.
(What does the raptor mean as a sign?)
(...)
(Sorry, you're meant to be busy.)
>She makes sure to move on--

>The enginseer stood by after the impact of the Auspex with the wall.
>Her hands go akimbo as her mechadendrite makes a satisfied, non-standard fist-pump like gesture.
"That worked!"
>And then briskly stepped to retrieve it, leaning down slightly as her utility mechadendrite stretches down to grab it with its manipulator claws, and turning back to Knight Raspberry once she has it.
>For some reason, Mallia is frowning with a profound concern when she turned around again.

>Internally, she was paused at the fact that the horrifically alien transmission from the Auspex had been flagged as “blasphemous” by her code-guardian. Although curious, she responds expediently to avoid confronting potential heresy.
(Cannot compute, but noted. Re-assessment of the rituals of maintenance is required.)
>Mallia avoids attempting to fully comprehend why the Necron had referred to the Machine God as such, for the time being... Especially right now.
>At the same moment, she cautiously navigates to interface with the Necron machine in order to ask it to re-start the scanning process on previously imputted coordinates now that it was functional again.

[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <Chroniton Wave Reader

>Returning to their little pic-nic area, Mallia's strangely perturbed expression lingers as she affixes the Auspex unit back onto her wrist, using her meat hand this time.
>But, after a moment, he expression softens to a more warm glance as the Enginseer listens to the knight's remarks, nodding once in understanding,
>And starts to smile a bit more, her own eyebrow rising a bit more in response to those eyebrow wiggles she receives, and that strange smile.
“Oh, of course! These are all meant for you, after all... Maybe I will keep one though, just to commemorate this day.”
>And as Mallia speaks, she starts to take a knee next to the cardboard box of flowers and re-opens it to inspecting the dimly glowing flowers within...
>Her eye side-glances towards the knight's rising forehoof.
>And then just as she pulling her hand back from the box, holding by the stem a glimmering yellow flower, she blinks a couple times at Raindrop's words and that buzzing.
>She straightens out on her knee, keeping the flower idly in hand while she gazed at this tiny little pegasus squeaking at them about glowbugs wanting to eat their paint.
>Mallia barely has the time to raise their hand in greeting that they were already gone.
>She let's out a little bemused chuckle, smirking faintly and furrowing her brow a little.
“I seeee... An actual curse that does not render one totally insane? Very fascinating!”

“But... Anyways,”
>Mallia clears her throat a little bit and turns back to Raindrop Raspberry, and holds out the flower to her.
“I would not mind being your friend, if you would allow me to be one to you.”
>The Enginseer looked down again, specifically at the knight's raised hoof.
>Something in her mind clicks, knowing that the last time Raindrop had used her wing to take the flower.
(Must mean something else... A signal perhaps? A que? An opportunity? How is she meant to pick up the flower without fingers?)
>With her other hand, Mallia reaches down to put her fingers under the hoof, and the thumb over the side of it; making the best intuitive effort to 'hold' their hoof, if only briefly.
[1d6 = 2] <B. Hoofholding
[1d6 = 4]
“You've made my first day on Tallus very pleasant, despite the traumatic events precluding my arrival and "fighting" an enemy I have never seen before, and as far as I know everything has gone poorly, all picked up in the same day... I feel like things are possibly going to be okay!"

>>370174
>Answering before Naliyna could, Amerose's voice was mildly distorted by whichever type or form of barrier was currently active.
"There are four to five thousand safes, crates, boxes, chests, canisters, and others remaining from Skykeep which have not been opened, and most likely will not be for the next year. That does not include the six or so hundred still sealed weapon and armor packages, nor a few dozen unknowns."

>Brisk, sharp tones in Kingdom and Old Stalliongrad accents are heard after you speak, Thrill's mare swiveling her head around to stare past you, a starkly unprofessional grin seen beneath the face plate.
*"Kyanite didn't raise me to be an idiot... and I never said we couldn't cheat either. We're technically telling the truth if that means 'mildly' harming Lark should getting him somewhere much safer be a better option."*

"Bubba, you may enter. Naliyna, I am politely asking you to be... less irritable or enraged."
>Front shoulders visibly tightening inside the exoframe, the fuchsia Crystal mare offers a solid nod at you, grinning in a most unprofessional marener beneath the face place.
"Keep your panties on Miss Storm-Rose, but we ARE in a hurry in case you haven't noticed-"
*"No hostiles or out of place energies in the Enclave, taking another couple sweeps. Go in, I'll stay here and set up a few traps-"*
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <Resonance Survey
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Stalker's Eye
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <E.Crystal Runes: Power
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]

>>370111
>Clemency holds off from firing the Kiowa's weapons for a moment to regain targeting solutions and to cool his chainguns
>He watches the spectacle of fire rain into the Tainted lines, now almost halted by Broken Hoof
>Small arms fire contributing to slowing the large generals down and the exotic weapons of the Guillotine raking their lines
>Clem then turns his attention to the beeping ECW console, trying to figure out if there was an alarm
>If so, the only thought that rang through Clemency's mind is Construct interference
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <Basic Electronic Warfare Operator
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
>He then opens a feed from the M-S.O.L.G to assess the greater AO and check on its status
>Considering the ever weakening hold on air superiority, he wishes the TLS had some charge left in it
>Or for the reactors to be in better condition
>Afterwards, Clemency takes advantage of the stalled Tainted on the South Basin entrance
("Chargers, be advised, danger close!")
>He lets another volley out form the chainguns and Hydra, taking care to minimize friendly fire
>The Hellfires he designates for the larger assault forms
[1d6+7 = (4+7) = 11] <XM 296 HMG
[1d6+7 = (2+7) = 9]
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13] <Hydra Rocket Pods
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15]
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14]
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13]
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15]
[1d6+13 = (4+13) = 17] <AGM-114 Hellfire Missile
[1d6+13 = (3+13) = 16]

>>370184
>The chair, however, was a highly comfortable crash seat, but unfortunately not adjustable like the arm rests were.
>Fumbling the initial controls.. quite a bit, Shiibo walks you through the limited number of operational systems and control mechanisms on the gunner's side, then the pressure sensitive buttons that accessed a specialist grid search and target identification system.
>Curiously, it was not based on IFF as it relied entirely on confirming individual targets, and had zero failsafe measures.
>Giving a rundown of the plasma cannon and laser AMS targeting systems, Shiibo carefully states it was possible to overcharge the first, but was likely a terrible idea as the original, unmodified OL-3 specifications were far more comprehensive.
>Pointing out a similar set of headphones to your right, the avatar makes a short bow, returning to her previous analytics with a vague sense of smugness.
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8]

>Expression slackening quickly, Lonestar glances at you in a mixture of amusement and probable concern until gripping the driver's left controls tightly.
"You're screwing with me right? ...unless this is payback for everyone calling you Pear, as in the fruit, since Twisted is a half-honest jackass at the best of times. Guess we deserve it at this point. We've crossed wakes a bunch of times, first was after something went down in a Lunar Village. You've been kicking around half a year, mostly in the Library avoiding a certain ring-covered godkiller of a not-so-small insane Psion horse. I can appreciate that."
>Looking forwards as the holographs resize outwards, he leans back into the chair, studying the display briefly, then reaches out to tap a set of newly marked objects for inspection.
"I was talking at your assistant. Wasn't giving his or her name so I figured saying 'you' was good enough. That's a Pre-Cascade Empire Junction or maybe Grand Jupiter Imperial Alliance name. If our worlds are remotely similar that is."
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]

"Don't apologize. We work with what we've got and you brought us the shell, liquid catalysts, and casing intact. All we're missing is either the warhead or fuze. Maybe both."
>Lone quickly side-eyes you at the mention of Cores, Shiibo's automated recognition pointing out his expression as moderately respectful, before slouching back in the driver's chair.
"Fuck's sakes.. whole time we knew Spiral I always had a few itches. He's pulled off the craziest shit, just not alone. Half what you said I never much thought about, least right until he really lost it. That helo Hollow wanted set somethin' off in his head. Can't even start to guess what."
>Stroking several keys on his screen, a feed transmits directly at Katyal, the woman sitting back with a stiff tone.
*"No wonder Hodch burned all his favors to make sure I came along. Here's my fifty-fifty chance of pinning down why your Marquis went alone: either he wasn't gonna risk 'his' humans getting injured, or he knew a suicide mission when he saw it. Neither of you have a mare-"*
>Lonestar's jaw twitches in umbrage, half glaring at his display.
*"Ah didn'ask fer y-"*
*"You don't. Mister cold, collected, always calculating agent doesn't either. Which means neither of you are able to act like stallions in the equine sense. There's a difference between being in a herd, being part of the herd, or being the herd. If you think what I'm saying is disrespectful, better think this over a few hundred times first."*

"Ponies teach Dul how learn herd. Herd is all share same ka, but all ponies have own ka too. It weird and fun. Dul like it."
>In the back, the Siren.. retches rather quietly.
"Gross. Dul not like you. Or you. All you.. wrong, why? ...Dul put book back now."

>>370187
"Discarding the option until my systems, internals, hull, and armor are fully repaired."
>Arms lowering, Mini-Wild's head cocks on the screen, her sole eye blinking in great confusion.
"Why wou- I do not have access to concrete, nor can I produce it. ...I also do not want to cover myself in layers of cardboard and concrete."
>At least your daughteru had some standards, minimal as they were!

"Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn-"
>Going silent and staring straight ahead for a tense five seconds, the cartoon version's head shakes twice.
"Definitely not, mom. Fifteen hours.. salt can be extracted from heating sea water and I should be able to cure it in vicinity of my bioreactor. Doing so would be safe as my core does not emit radiation outside the kanpri sphere."
>Map closing, the left screen turns off with a short hum as Wild's entire frame holds still.
"Understood. Performing final shutdowns.. complete-"

>Twitching a degree left, then right, the Eldritch-Android settles into a relaxed pose, external tendrils clanking onto armor out of sight.
>Between Wild's utter silence, a light wind and small waves pushing onto beach outside noticeable.
>The clouds above still hung dark, though tinted a deep red, tiny ash flecks drifting above only to land in water, gray crests streaking into sand.
>Time drifts for a while at the rather serene view and sounds, and while you didn't have a watch there were no sensations of pressure or danger.

>Feeling trace vibrations above the chest cabin, the left screen clicks on, slowly turning from black to dull, metallic red panels.
>The map table returns as mini-Wild hops onto a corner to sit, though her coloration had changed:
>The majority of her armor was now the favored gunmetal gray that most humans enjoyed, while her upper legs, shoulder and outer chest plates, the false-wings, and pinstripes had changed to a deep, burnt red.
"I can... think again?"
>Blinking in suspended disbelief, the caricature looks down at her hands, flexing them on screen as her body outside does the same.
>Minus the right hand, of course.
"I can. Emergency restoration partially successful; access restored to forty-percent of data nodes severed and disconnected due to damage. Most of my electronic and monitoring equipment is functioning, though degraded. Three undamaged repair systems are back on line.."
>Tilting back and forth on the table, mini-Wild becomes a flat image, the overhead speakers quieting to a conversation level.
"Restored one critical and two major motivators in my legs, should be able to slow jog now. Replacing my primary repair system's damaged components now-"
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14]
[1d6+20 = (6+20) = 26]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18]
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <Repair Tendril 1
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3] <RT-2
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <RT-3
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <RT-4
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <RT-5
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <RT-6
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] <RT-7
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] <RT-8
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <Sensory Node #3: System Reboot Analysis
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair System Restoration