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#Operators in Equestria: The Dark Horse Arrives
GM Strangler
>If you would like to join, make a sensible loadout here at:
>And if you want to bring in something special or anything not on the list, ask to shop it in.

>When you're done, read over the Operator's Handbook:

>Or the Hoofbook if you wanna be a pony:

>Then drop a post here.

>Fortress Map:

>Overall Pastebin:

>Bulletin Board:

>Previous Thread:
>>279343 →
31 replies and 8 files omitted.
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
"Cadence's teats.."
>Visibly concerned as the display switches to a close view of the jar, Naliyna presses her front hooves down on the table, expression rigid.
"Lucky and the Inner Wards knew the whole time. Ponies were dying from full body crystallization like Crystal ponies do, but to keep them alive until eventually they couldn't afford buying more? They all have to be dead by now. There's no way anypony would let a single one live after knowing this."
>Nodding slowly, she turns her head right to check on Zigri who was in the process of accepting his fate.
>Ears swiveling back to glare daggers at the container, Naliyna's eyes rotate towards you.
"No need to guess why Hodch left Canterlot to come here. He wasn't just tired of the College like he first said. Whatever nobles and royals were in on this shit would've suspected him sooner or later, and knowing the hundred some fields of study he can teach.."
>Trailing off with a short cheek bite, the tradesmare scowls, bringing up a picture of Las Pegasus after it was attacked: nearly a tenth of the city's cloud 'blocks' missing.
"Linara. Somepony put her in the position to down the whole Rogue's Circle. The reports I got from that human mare said nearly ten thousand Watch Guard died against the Rogues, but not a single Tower Guard was confirmed deceased. One unit of Shieldmares was protecting Linara on her way out. Two things really stick out to me."
"One, Lucky intentionally hired us to take Linara out. When that didn't happen she started losing control. That was enough for Tacit to slip more Enchained and agents in. Let's just say for a minute that the Judges in Canterlot would hear her out and accept any evidence she gathered up until then would be solid. Add that to what we already know Tacit confirmed. That's a fairly strong case between them. If we add ours and Tartarus to that, it looks solid but I hate legalese."
"Two, Linara's our best chance of finding out who is and isn't friendly in Stalliongrad. Ri'Vahz went with Ghost, they had a pretty difficult time between trying to help the defenders, then didn't exactly take Linara down. Those Shieldmares of hers didn't attack either of them once which is beyond odd, they're usually the worst to deal with. All they tried to do was escape and let the remaining Watch Guard die. Problem is-"
>Sitting back to fold forelegs across her chest, Naliyna's eyebrows lower.
"Where is she, or Tacit for that matter? And-"
>Slowly turning to you with the most severely amused expression yet, the scar-laden mare grins.
"Bubba.. did you know Stream Lark is in our Enclave right now? How do you feel about taking a trip to visit the so-called 'most wanted Councilierge'?"
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
>Flipping through the smartphone quickly, he holds it out screen first, showing off a list of most Zone artifacts excluding the weirder or useless ones.
>And the cursed one.
"Like these? No promises but I'll keep them in mind in case I go on another trip. Can usually spare a second or two in realtime to grab something else real close."
>Placing the phone back in his dress shirt, Anon gives a small, conciliatory shrug.
"Just an idea. A weapon is a weapon after all, and you never know, the Moors has some wild objects around those Scars that might be similar. No weird bread, got it. Back to work, and don't forget that minigun."
>Tossing you a two finger salute, the gestalt snags the bottle of water before sauntering into the doorway.
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
'the four of us, technically three since Tracker are twins, arent machine-spirits. we are digitized souls contained in a temporally shielded macro datacore made in the Golden Era. no engrams needed. if we were incensed youd know by now. Dranaki screams like a warp ghost when shes mad'
'I do not!'
'then what did you do when we blasted a hole in tha'
>Cutting off Tox-11's datastream briefly, the Admiral delivers a grating sigh.
'If you would prefer our non-classified records since arriving here, I will collect them once our reports have concluded.'
'or maybe she screams like a bolter bitch getting krumped by'
'Damn it Andronal, I'm trying to be civil!'
'im not. now get back to work, barely 15% complete with our record keeping'

>Shrugging the carapace plate shoudlers in a small motion, the Tempestus Scion inhales a bit raggedly.
"Highly unlikely. The transfer of an individual's body to this omniverse was explained to me in partial detail but I still do not understand the technical and magical terminology used. No factors are added or removed except for the restoration of most bodily parts. Excluding our Inquisitor, myself, and you, there are two other humans here that arrived without the prosthetics they had before transfer."
>Inhaling the sweet, light fragrances that reminded you of datascents from paradise worlds, you were fairly sure these were entirely unique to this planet, if not an underground range.

>Accepting the slate and turning it to read over, Chisan's gaze threatens to become slightly more than fully sanctioned.
>Perusing it through twice more, he nods at the thanks before handing it back with a stiff, minor frown.
"You are welcome. The Inquistor stated this shortly after I arrived: transferring individual objects is extremely inefficient. As we both know there are potentially millions of STC's lost throughout the Imperium and elsewhere. She suggested to attempt retrieving a fully intact one. The unit currently under the Workshop was built long before the Dark Age of Technology. Once fully expanded it will act as a fabrication system similar to yet more capable than Lathe-Forges but will require completely rebuilding the core components."
>Arms folding across his chest without any stiffness or trace of pain on his face, a short burst of data static causes him to raise both eyebrows.
"That is... an exceptional idea, Admiral. My thanks to you."
>The hints of a smile form, the Storm Trooper leaning backwards proudly.
"Enginseer, what would you think of a datacore containing all schematics of wargear from the Solar Auxilia? Much of their systems are cross-compatible and the majority of technical specifications are superior to M41 variants. It was also their influence that created Tempestus Scions in later millennia."
Ivan the STALKER
"Yeah, looks about right. Wouldn't even mind if a few were duds, I could put them on a shelf."
>He gives Anon an idle salute back, Ivan turned to look over the M134 in finer detail, deciding to put away his G36 on one of the tables first to carry the damn thing.
>Picking it up, Ivan would briefly test how it felt to hold, nodding to himself.
"Not too bad, suit's working fine for weight distribution. Ammo'll be a pain in the ass but two extra boxes shouldn't be too much..."
352585 352815

>"A blast wave? What did they do to create that?"
>Clemency complies with her order and drops altitude to 50 meters
>He then braces for the blast wave to hit and prepare to maintain control of the Kiowa

[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] <Adept Fighter Jet Aviator
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Pupil Single Engine Propeller Aviator
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]

>However, he hears a more familiar voice in his head
(Good copy. Flying to your position.)
>A Continental Invasion Carrier?
>Constructs are joining this mess?
>This is turning into a level far beyond FUBAR now
>Clem flies over to Jeff's position, lowering altitude to around 35 meters
>He then reaches over the seat, remembers to take out and put Jeff's spotting scope inside of the bag
>Clem then hauls the bag over and tosses the bag out of the side of the helicopter, making sure it lands a few meters away from Jeff
>Going back to 50 meters altitude, Clem contacts Jeff again
(I'll see if there is a spot to touch down and power off. I have two Destroyer companies to direct. I'll loiter until the shields go down, strafe, then land somewhere.)
>Afterwards, Clem goes over his equipment and powers off his radio and helmet, lifting up his visor
Razorback Enclave
GM Strangler
'98.6% uploaded from the prototype unit before contact was lost, sir. I'm studying her engrams.. it's all bad news. The original damage was severe: Sectors 0 through 80 were rebuilt, mostly thrown together. The system corruption made it worse, half of those sectors were scrapped but they weren't doing anything useful. The rest I can improve on with enough time. Keep her as is, she has good working knowledge and won't crack under stress.'
>Pausing the localized simulations, 'Shiibo' turns from the curricular work to display a dead connection bar and complete signal interference readout.
'Fortress relay isn't reaching here now. We're still jammed from orbit and it's not stopping. No contact with Anfang and Gryphon Vale, Canterlot, Crystal Empire City-State, or the Hive. Basin Village relay seems to be damaged but I don't have access to it. Those engram codes are picky. And hostile.'

>Clustered by where the original stacks of safes had been 30M northwest of the large matrice were rows of chairs and loveseats, most of them too short, undergoing inspection by several former Honor Guard, the gold trim of their robes distinct from Starborn purple or Empire crystal.
>Finding one the right height for you, it was a heavy baroque style that would have fit any late Iron Age castle, though the whimsical scrawls of Old Everfree creatures on all the wood surfaces were definite renderings of real ones.
>Taking a seat to watch the still open gateway, the view rotates to show Dul throwing the last few feathers on a boulder at least twenty times her size.
>Amusingly, they stick.
>Walking around in a circle to face the giant rock, the Siren throws her head back, exhaling a cloud of bright purple fog onto it, then hurls what looked like a pebble from the left set of Riftdrowner vines.
>Remaining where she was, the rock.. starts melting, then shatters into tiny pieces.
>Leaping in the air with a happy neigh, Dul lands and quickly gathers the feathers, four vines snatching them off sand to be held by the remainder on either side.
>The background was somewhere different than the Sea's Bounty beach fort as the coconut and palm trees were much shorter; in the distance were dozens of small, circular green huts that looked like they were woven together.
>Finished collecting the feathers, Dul high-trots towards the gateway, stopping to dump them into the box that was out of sight, then sets it on her saddle.
>Bouncing back through the portal and walking off the stone, the gate closes behind her while she waves a foreleg at you, smiling fiercely.
"Dul done! Was lots easy make not-stupid! Dul thought lots harder. Dul deliver feathers you here or other here?"

>Most Lorekeepers had stopped to watch the process, the majority confused or dumbfounded while the Crystal pony bands wore curious expressions.
>The lone Gryphon Lorekeeper, a (bad) poet of some note that spoke in odd sentences, speaks up behind you at a short distance.
"Is that a Siren? Those are Crin feathers, I'm sure of it, but how does one possibly purify Planar plumage? I need t-"
"Not stop wor-king! Too much do with-out ask-ing e-ver-y ques-tion."
>The other voice came from the only one that put up with the Gryphon, an older minotaur bull freshly retired from the Starborn.
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
>Left screen changing from forward view to a complete rendering of the Rilvenni, Wild's internal voice was faintly cheerful.
"It's absolutely dead. I don't know whether blood loss, my last shot, or your shot killed it. There's a core inside the central body. Fully intact too, we didn't even scratch it! I'll see if I can convert or use anything from it."
>While repair tendrils extend out to harvest samples of ichor, tentacles, and chunks of skin, Anon leans forwards to be seen under the right screen, scrolling through his smartphone.
"I've seen enough weird shit to know that was either Eldritch, Planar, or Otherworldly. Need a bit to find it in my encyclopedia, there's nothing important going on for me right now. Whole lot of nasties in the oceans "
>Glancing up at the Eldritch-Android's exterior, the impression he was about to sigh holds, then he does.
"I can take you for sure I don't know what this is Natilda. After last night, not sure I want to know. What I do know is there's pieces of you, Kraut, Novus, and Snakebite along with something else. It's familiar, like stabbed in a completely dark place, and being.. stalked by a predator. One that shouldn't be a predator. There's burns all over an- ..is this Caliya? Wha- you know what, no, I'm not thinking about this."
>Openly thinking for ten seconds, the gestalt lifts his free hand in an 'I give up' motion.
"I CAN take you to Razorback and there's technically no weight limit it you want to travel with me, but I'm not really sure. Could we bring it back in pieces or am I missing an incredibly vital piece of information here?"
"I am not a 'thing', I am an Eldritch-Android. Natilda is One-Of-Six-To-Our-Daughter, which is me."
"Right. I have no idea what to say."
"Mom, this creature is clean. There are no parasites, bacterium, secondary organisms. No strictly negative aspects that I can detect."
"You know the name of that thing?"
"Rilvenni, subtype unknown. Planar."
"Narrows that down by a huge amount, shouldn't take long. You got a name?"
"Wild Ride."

"Is this real?"
>Profoundly stupefied at the answer, Anonymous stares a thousand miles through his smartphone briefly, then continues his search with a chuckle.
"There's no way."

[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <Sensory Node #2: Conversion Ratio
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Arcanum Sensors Array
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #1: Salvage Protocols
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #8
>Looking over the rendered sharktopus, I could only grimace.
>Nobody back home except for the insane would come up with such a creature.
>If THESE were inside the ocean I wouldn't like to see what the fuck else was in there.
"Yeah, its Caliya."
>I just shook my head and shifted on the couch, leaning back a bit as I looked at her displays, knowing that the Constructs weren't going to just forget about us.
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] >E. Perception/ISTCM
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]

"Yeah we kinda ended up going through an... Eldritch Tear or whatever, turning the car into what she is now."
>I groaned out a little, rubbing my head.
"If she can go through in one piece I'll fucking buy everyone a couple rounds of vodka."
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
>Easily hefting the gloriously shined weapon up, through the internal feedback system you were able to sense its weight and the approximate load on the exo's systems, which felt to be around half the maximum.
>The first difference you spot was an armored panel over the once highly vulnerable power crystal, second is the subdued blue-green metal colorations replacing steel, and between the six barrels was a stable, floating electronic system that was entirely new.
>From the right glove you feel the presence of a small button underneath the thumb, and upon pressing it a blue-hot line crackles into existence ahead of the weapon.
>A stabilized laser system wirelessly linked to the M134? Neat.
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
>Halting his search, the gestalt sits back, rubbing the side of his head.
"I can't quantify the amount of pain this is giving me right now. Natilda, I don't want to make your already messed up night worse but I'm not going to lie: Kraut and Novus are screwed. They're not going to recover without taking extreme measures that even I don't want to consider. Snakebite is stable but unconscious, he's recovering from multiple surgeries in a row. No real long term damage except missing an eye. That can be replaced if he makes it through the next four or five stages of treatment."
>Resuming in sincere chagrin, Anonymous frowns under the mask.
"Caliya is the worst off. Most of his body was incinerated to the point where all organs shut down. Nova Flicker and Roust checked on him more than a dozen times in the first hour. Only thoughts they could sense were tiny imprints of pride and burning pain which he ignored."
"On the positive side four stasis pods were taken with them. One young batpony mare apparently fitted with Construct... parts, I guess. One young pegasus stallion, Prench. He was woken up and is undergoing treatment, full recovery expected. One young minotaur bull, badly injured but likely to recover fully. Last is one Tallus basilisk, a native that's considered a rare sapient species outside of a few small populations that don't interact with the world outside the Dragonspines and Neighsia."

>Checking on the screens, reset for maximum view distance, both were aimed directly south.
>Spotting nothing either moving or new, the only change was a series of high atmospheric clouds that looked to be in the process of forming into thunderheads.

"A Scar of the Moors. Most of them are hidden until living beings approach them. A few are stable enough to be visible at all times."
>Looking up from the smartphone, Anonymous slowly blinks, then stares down again, fervently wishing he could unhear what he just listened to.
"Unless you can take safely take her apart, in pieces, for transport then I'm afraid the answer is a big no. You might, I stress might, possibly summon an intact warp gate to here. They function similarly to translocation matrices but the Vortex Remnant doesn't always recognize them, it can take minutes, hours, possibly days for it to be noticed."
"Found your Planar horror. It's a Rilvenni Sub-Major Type Five. The orange-red color shows it's adapted fairly well, original coloration is a blue-orange. It's basically a teenager, would have reached full maturity in a thousand years or so. They come from the Elemental Plane of Water, quite rare there but are barely known in the Moors oceans. Lunars consider them the worst type of pests, little targets them since the internal organs and ichor taste horrible. Worst yet they're essentially immortal since they don't die from natural causes outside their home Plane. You two saved a few thousand ponies and millions of sea creatures by killing one before it could reach maturity and breed. That core is phenomenally precious, there's only three examples of one on Tallus and none of them are pristine. I suggest taking everything you can from the corpse before it starts phasing out in fifteen, maybe twenty hours."

>Hearing an awful electronic squeak from above, Wild halts her digging about in the corpse to rumble an incoherent phrase, then continues once more in harvesting large sections of exterior flesh.
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Sensory Node #2: Conversion Ratio
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Arcanum Sensors Arrayh
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10]
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <Repair Tendril #1: Salvage Protocols
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <Repair Tendril #8
"Sensors are glitching again.. I'm unable to identify if the material is capable of being translated into Tryptaran mass. The pseudo-skin is highly elastic and durable, more so than leather. There is no taste or scent to it. The tongue may be edible. Nine organs may be salvaged. The eyes contain small amounts of concentrated Planar water elemental essences."
>Right camera raising, it zooms in to maximum as Wild's tone becomes puzzled.
"Mom, there are no waves incoming. I could have sworn there were twenty to thirty on approach. We should have been hit by the second, third, and fourth ones by now."
Mallia Castella
The what.jpg
>Mallia really wanted to be amused by the back and forth between Andronal and Dranaki, yet the amusement she wanted to feel doesn't reach her.
>The anxiety and uncertainty was still there...
(Golden Age macro-datacore...)
>She transmits back on a lower tone, which carried a lingering awe.
(Yes--, Yes, I'd like those records. It'd be nice.)
(Sorry if--)
>And she stops her apology short, remembering that she shouldn't be apologizing at all. It took RESTRAINT to not continue, but thankfully the seconds catch up first and the conversation with Chisan becomes priority once more.

>Blinking away an onset of a distressed glance in her eyes, darting them briefly, she starts nodding with rapt-attention along with each and every word from the Stormtrooper. Her smile still on her face, though it got a little wry when she saw Him frown while handing back the dataslate.
>Her mechadendrite accepts it back, and deftly slots it back in her rucksack's pocket and pinching the flap to pull it down and even giving a few light pats on the flap to make sure it stuck with the tendril-like limb, before curling it a little around her own middle section.

>Mallia however takes a few seconds to cope with and process with the information Chisan provides her, and finally the scale of the power of these little candles sunk into her unbalanced mind.
(How stupid am I? Very stupid apparently.)
>She blink-blinks in astonishment, crossing her arms with one hand over her mouth while she furrows her brow and nods slowly. Stopping rock-still when Chisan made that suggestion. Eyes darting, she fumbles her own words.
"Pf-fwh-wh--YES? Yes. We are definitely getting that! Of course we are!"
>Then quarter-turns her head, staring at the workshop's wall as she whispers:
"--We can do that???"
>Then back to Chisan,
"Can we? With one candle? Just like that? Seriously? It's not out of our reach?"
>Mallia says, fanning herself with the other hand as her cheeks flush with a strong emotion.

"We can just,-- we can... Recover most, if not all the knowledge humanity has lost, all the things the Arch-Traitor destroyed... Right? All the lost STCs--"
>She trails off, and then squints skeptically.
"No way..."
>She looks to Chisan from slightly side-long for confirmation while rubbing the side of her head and glancing off with shame and anxiety that made the mechadendrite shift along her stomach and her feet shuffle erratically in place.
"Sorry, Stormtrooper. I am--, slightly flustered. I didn't think about that. My bad."

>She finally takes a breath, and sighs out heavily. Then promptly beamed with her sunny smile again; hands going down to grasp onto the mechadendrite's manipulator claw.
(To be able to SEE the technology as it once was. Touch it, even! Perhaps even things to improve humanity's life here. As it should've been.)
Basin Village: The Lost Legions, Post #1/4
GM Strangler
352576 352789 352815 352845

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 10 turns.

('Nine minutes thirty seconds until Shattering Skies enters atmosphere. All Lancer and Charger formations able to enter Basin Village hold from the south road to the fountain; at least six companeighs must remain near the fountain barricade to protect Razorback, they are your secondary priority unless the batpony is threatened.')
('RAZORBACK! NEGATIVE on electronics shutdown! Construct landing vessels don't have shit for disruption range, only the largest models are a threat under half a kilometer! Keep your tech online until the first of you notices sabatoge attempts and whoever YOU are, human mare! Stop panicking! Psions are the second most proficient at ripping Constructs apart!')

>Dispassionately watching the shield's outer layer fracture apart, central collapsing against the strain, the Primal Psions lean onto each other as the third layer ripples against thousands of trace plasma marks leaving waves of red-white streaks fading as they trail down, the entire shield protesting as it sizzles into nothing.
('It held.')
(Goddess damned barely! If a second one like tha-')
('There are no more forces in range, Vestal. Everypony that could be here, is.')
('I know that! If a quarter of Stalliongrad wasn't THIS close to being rolled over by Undead right bucking now I'd head back and beg those Lunarites t-')
('Not here, not now. Focus on what we may act upon, not what we would prefer.')

>Reaching maximum velocity in spare seconds, Support Striker manabomb coverage is nowhere near perfect as small numbers of the diamond canisters are opened too quickly and begin to spin out of control, scattering to impact others in their path.
>Following the mostly synchronized explosions, diamond housings create mass clouds of shrapnel, the damage piling on as thousands of raw Void lances, roiling spheres discharging their coherent energies similar to lightning strikes, last the fanciful pseudo-creatures slamming down into mixed Guardian ranks.
>A large number from the Day Guard, highly unused to the intricacies of Void miss their targets, yet the Night Guards have little excuse as half of their volleys do little more than create extra purple, blue, red, and black light shows.

>Partially flattened and stunned by the loss of six leaders, the almost never recorded Complete Tainted are shredded into by half-molten diamond shards, swiftly reinforced by their surviving leaders, physically bouncing back into their individual components.
>Lunar Guardian Assault Divisions, 8 Generals remaining; Speed unchanged, 410M from Basin Village
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13] <Solar Guardian Assault Divisions, 2 Generals remaining: 430M from Basin Village
>Lunar Guardian Airstrike Division, 1 Captain remaining: Speed reduced to 16, now 400M southwest of Basin Village
>Solar Guardian Air Commarend Division, 1 Captain remaining: Speed unchanged, 370M southeast of Basin Village
[1d6+20 = (6+20) = 26] <Solar Guardian Support Divisions, 4 Captains remaining: Spectral Lances
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11] <Solar Guardian Support Divisions: Mobile Tactics
[1d1600+800 = (155+800) = 955] <8x Lunar Guardian Assault Generals
[1d400+200 = (337+200) = 537] <2x Solar Guardian Assault Generals
[1d100+50 = (20+50) = 70] <1x Lunar Guardian Airstrike Captain
[1d100+50 = (74+50) = 124] <1x Solar Guardian Air Commarend Captain
[1d400+200 = (155+200) = 355] <4x Solar Guardian Support Captains
>The Lost Legions: 204,899 of 285,678 Morale.

('Bucking amazing clusters! WATCH GUARD STRIKERS! Form new ranks across the Basin's north, ripple salvoes into the Assault Divisions! Here's an old Hegemony Ranger teaching: if you can't cut the head off then stick the enemy's body on the ground with every arrow you've got, that's how Kenfield Pass was won!')
[1d6+17 = (2+17) = 19] <Support Striker Companeighs: Shearing Lances x 1,200 total
[1d6+17 = (2+17) = 19] <Watch Guard Support Striker Battalions: Shearing Lances x 2,000 total
('RAZORBACK! Second Dynasty Support Strikers are going to transport all your common explosives, grenades and everything else, into the Solar Guardian Support Division ranks, they need to be brought down!')
>Stripped every simple explosive from the pouches, webbing, packs, bandoliers, and satchels of every human, the Second Dynasty reaffirm their oaths, causaul-sliding the ordinance into scattered clusters directly within the Support Division ranks.
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18] <Second Dynasty Support Strikers: Teleport Ambush x 400 total

('Hail of Glory has inflicted moderate damage... the Captain is reporting dozens of weapon malfunctions and severe internal damage from unstable tech-arcane systems. He is initiating repairs and will investigate causes. The Solar Guardian Air Commarend Division will engage his vessel, he is focusing primary batteries into the Assault Divisions as those weapons cannot turn more than five degrees.')
>'Hail of Glory'
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <C-State Logic Repair Matrix
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Armor Analysis
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Optimal Range Vectors
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <System 35 Repairs
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <System 18 Analysis
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16] <Main Tech-Arcane Armaments: Underload
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Secondary Armament Repairs
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Tertiary Weapon Repairs
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Stabilizing Thrusters
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Weapon Stabilizers

(Destroyer Battalion 4, split off to interdict the west Air Commarend Division, do not allow Hail of Glory to be damaged further, that vessel is barely functioning as is. Only sacrifice enough of your lives to destroy that entire Division, all survivors return immediately after.')
('We are disrupting them!')
('Who is we?')
('We, of course!')
[1d6+16 = (1+16) = 17] <Discordite Destroyer Battalion 4 x 950 total
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <Airstreams: Subvert Control
Basin Village: The Lost Legions, Post #2/4
GM Strangler
352789 352815 352845
>The Lost Legions: 206,940 Morale.

('Battered Shores, turn your translocation gateway one-eighty degrees and bombard frontal Assault Division lines.')
('Eye-eye ma'am, switching targets to new prizes! Thank all the flanks our Stahl plates are completely stable for once! We are white for bombardmarent, General! Now fillies, you heard the real mare! Spin the gateway around and launch everything we've got straight down that hole!')
('And the Tower Guards say unicorns do not have a sense of humor.')
>'Battered Shores'
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5] <Accuracy
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3] <Optimal Range Calculations
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15] <Main Arcane Armamarents
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <Secondary Arcane Armamarents
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <Tertiary Arcane Armamarents

('Razorback, the Lunarites may have located a Lunar Assault General. Distance: four-sixty meters south-southwest, fifth Division east. Bearing is.. one-ninety to two-ten, target the third largest charging Tainted. I am not good without an actual compass in my hooves.')
>Calmly speaking over the increasingly stressed human Overherd as the last of Razorback's squads join the barricade, Kunid Erakoi's normally flat, emotionless tone reaches a tipping point of fear, the tech-knight's overcomplicated heavy launcher hefts onto his left shoulder while a standard M60 is raised in the right exopowered arm.
('All Razorback squads in range have joined combat General. The systems of my weapons and armor are majority biological though we have not dealt with Constructs directly. I am in possession of two maximally destabilized organo-plasmic missiles. Semi-guided, bioneural tracking, effective range of ten kilometers, blast radius of twenty meters. Each can be swapped to deliver a ship-killing EMP discharge but are no more powerful than a common fifty millimeter high explosive shell in that setting. Please confirm or deny the use of point defense systems by Constructs.')
('Most of our records stated they had such in use against the various Harpies but those weapons were much larger than anything here, about the size of a fully grown mango tree. Save them.')
('Understood. I shall reserve these for later use.')
[1d6+13 = (1+13) = 14] <Razorback Rookie Squads, 7 total
[1d6+16 = (6+16) = 22] <Razorback Veteran Squads, 10 total
[1d6+20 = (1+20) = 21] <Razorback Mercenary Squads, 11 total
[1d6+25 = (6+25) = 31] <Razorback Elite Squads, 8 total
[1d6+26 = (4+26) = 30] <Razorback Marefriends, 20 total
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21] <Razorback Stallionfriends, 8 total

>Catching the bag dropped from Clemency, Krinza's metallic grasp delivers it to you as a recently made tungsten lance thunders off overhead as Emerald halts in the middle of a majority Watch Guard Lancer formation charging around the first barricade to take position at the Basin's entrance.
>Dead still at the commotion around her, the Korean woman stares down at the white box in her hands.
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] <E.Negotiation
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]

>Dead silence rings over weapons fire, unicorn magic, and psionic lances delivered throughout Basin Village.
>A brief, familiar marental touch, the chaotically fluctuating yet internally calm voice of Broken Hoof intrudes.
('The Empress lies silent now, perhaps she is at peace. First this armor must be removed. I will arrive after it is disposed of.')
>Speaking at the grave of a long-fallen comrade felt.. appropriate.
Ivan the STALKER
>Running his hand over the barrels, Ivan would idly rotate them, listening for any kinks that might disrupt that.
>Satisfied, Ivan would place it down for a moment to grab two boxes of ammunition, sliding them into pouches on his armor that were large enough to fit them.
"A Stalker doesn't have much use for one of these outside of an emplacement... But fuck if they're not fun~"
>He picked it back up and carried it out, whistling a bit of a tune as he went.
>I closed my eyes and slumped a bit at the news, letting out a bit of a sigh.
"I was afraid of that... At least we saved some people."
>Glancing at one of Wild's screens, I shook my head.
"It'll be a good idea to worry about them later."
>Perking up a bit at the mention of a warp gate, I lean forward again.
"Its not a good idea to try one now, but how would we go around summoning one?"
>Definitely after we get to the nearest outpost.

>My eyebrow shot up a bit at that information.
>"This son of a bitch was enough of a pain in the ass as a juvenile, how much harder to deal with is an adult?"
"Well, some good came out of being separated like this."
>Thinking for a moment.
"We'll definitely need to take that core, Wild. Even if we're strapped for time, having something like that is definitely worth its weight in gold. Or whatever similar saying they have here."

"I am not eating a damn thing from that sharktopus, so unless you eat as well just use it for Tryptaran mass. If you can."
>Worth a shot if she can.
>Furrowing my brow at the report, I looked over at Anonymous questioningly.
"We're... Not done dealing with the Constructs, several chased after us. I don't know if they can deal with ocean waves but we should have been hit by several tidal waves from a big one landing in the ocean."
>Looking back towards the ocean, I squint my eyes a bit to see if anything was coming.
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] >E. Perception/ISTCM
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]
Basin Village: The Lost Legions, Post #3/4
GM Strangler
352584 352789 352815 352845
>Lacking direct interaction, the human's dead stop and pained eye twitch at the conflicting voices physically assaulting her from the relic was bad.
>Worse was the impression the thousands of souls contained within hadn't been woken up and immediately warned in the proper marener.
>Less so was her marginally successful attempt at calming the raging Solar unicorns from a millennia past.
>They weren't angry, no, that would be too simple.
>These ones were irate at not being treated with the utmost respect that snobbish Lunar-Solar War veterans and survivors would feel they deserved.
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]

>From where you were, surveying the Assault Division lines it was clear roughly a fifth had been wiped out yet only slowed their charge by a small fraction.
>The Lunar Guardian Airstrike and Solar Guardian Air Commarend had separated west and east to hunt for targets of opportunity.
>The only target the Air Commarend Division had was the Blaze of Glory, while the Airstrike Division would either attempt to take out unicorns on the rooftops or cycle charge into the Support Strikers in the north Basin, or possibly against the Killnight north.
>Seeing/feeling/sensing/tasting the inordinate amount of lethal harm dealt to the Tainted by hundreds of Mind's Eyes, nearly all Tallus armies would have surrendered or begun planning a fighting defensive escape route at this stage.
>Whispers of Ceranul across the Moors make it clear there could be no retreat or surrender here: the Lost Legions would be freed, or the twenty-five thousand ponies from six factions, half of which hated each other, would die to the last defending it, excluding Razorback.

('Every factor imaginable could be pissing Constructs off: Otherworld Harpy vessels eight thousand years older than the Dynasty, Otherworld humans in large numbers with their tech, Bloodhosts that can be felt across the world, shitloads of blood magic that even Stalliongrad is sensing, thousands of unicorns and psions from opposing factions in the same place, one Primal Psion leading six field armies of Strikers and the other in commarend of eighteen thousand thousand ponies, so you tell me which would be more interesting to those fucking orange monsters!')
('One choice must be made at a time, Vestal. The largest Assault Maniple Lander will require twenty minutes to reach here, and they would not dare risk an incursion without full numbers backing them.')

>Far more level headed than her opposite, the Watch Guard's Primal Psion General cared nothing for cross-faction conflict, ruling the mixed Overherd of humans and ponies with a diamondine clear mind, calm retorts punishing those with the slightest disrespect for defying her orders.
>A further five Companeighs of Watch, Day, Lunar, and Solar Guard Lancers, followed by five more Companeighs of Chargers, enter Basin Village from the translocation stones behind the fountain, adding their rigid fortitude to the tempered calm of their fellows.
>Grabbed by Razorback's last arriving squad, you're dragged with the Veterans into the far west of Bren's barricade setup beyond the Basin's fountain, avoiding smaller lines of militant ponies taking their positions ahead as a sacrificial vanguard.
>Finished with her last melding, the crew boss turns her head enough to give you a sharp nod, then steps back with the rest of her unicorn crew, horns lit and blazing to bombard.
>Not even the Siege had firing lines this packed.

>Warmth spreads from the scar's remains, a reminder from the late psion bitterly reaching outwards to the earth ponies surrounding.
>Closely examining the rank and file Guard, not only were all of them still in their illusion-clone appearance, every piece of armor and weapon were standard.
>Save for Mercy having a difficult time trying to make her way through to the first barricade, Lancers and Chargers filling in gaps from the Basin's southern road to Razorback's ad hoc barricade line, there wasn't a single leader above the rank of squad commarender here.

('You picked the worst time to call in a favor, Royal Bed Warmer. Rune Knight General Topaline Shore here, I'm dispatching all forces that are free. We're still hunting down Ward creatures, bunch of bucked up pegasi with crystalline body parts that we can't hoofle without completely destroying them. Reinforcemarents en route, unknown arrival times as they're scattered across the City-State. Expect one of Belregard's own subordinates, they might stay clear of humans-')
>Cutting off abruptly, the firm, smokey middle-aged voice was one you knew fairly well, a rather sharp Crystal Kingdom adherent that rarely left the Spire.
[1d6 = 6] <Conclave Force Strength
[1d10 = 2] <Arrival Time
[1d6 = 2] <Crystal Free Knight Force Strength
[1d10 = 3] <Arrival Time
[1d6 = 6] <Crystal Hegemony Mercenary Force Strength
[1d10 = 10] <Arrival Time
[1d6 = 4] <Crystal Marecenary Force Strength
[1d10 = 3] <Arrival Time
[1d6 = 6] <Crystal Moors Hunter-Killer Marecenary Force Strength
[1d10 = 7] <Arrival Time
[1d6 = 4] <Crystal Spireguard Force Strength
[1d10 = 7] <Arrival Time
[1d6 = 2] <Imperial Warden Force Strength
[1d10 = 10] <Arrival Time
[1d6 = 1] <Kingdom Warden Force Strength
[1d10 = 4] <Arrival Time
[1d6 = 3] <Task Force Tundra Force Strength
[1d10 = 6] <Arrival Time
[1d6 = 5] <Unicorn Spireguard Elites Force Strength
[1d10 = 10] <Arrival Time
1d6] <Ethereal Warden Champion
GM Strangler
[1d6 = 2] <Belregard's Sub-Champion
Basin Village: The Lost Legions, Post #4/4
GM Strangler
352789 352815 352817 352845
>Watching the bag with its contents delivered to Jeff by Krinza, the grandmaster smith returns to the line of Razorback's unicorns behind the barricade south of the fountain, collectively forming Void lances once more.
>The massed shield ahead of Basin Village crumbles, barely withstanding the MOAB's shockwaves and plasma fragmentation, sending nothing more than burnt ozone towards the Kiowa.

>Over the constant noise from massed rifle fire, light machineguns, heavy machineguns, and the rare few rocket launchers Razorback had access to were the air cleaving shrieks of Spectral-tinged lances from far south.
>Perfectly arced, four hundred streak down into the massed formations of Lancers filling the Basin's southernmost spaces, an entire Division's worth of Guard falling dead onto stone.
('Move the dead out of the Village immediately, they shall be buried with full honors later.')

('CLEMENCY! I'm overriding the Watch General, your orders are as follows: do not disengage electronics until the first Construct is within a hundred meters of you and select targets of opportunity, you should've been launching weapons the second that fucking shield dropped! And send those Destroyers out immediately!')
>If a Primal Psion could be any more furious, there would definitely be an extra continent worth of space in Tartarus for them.

>A sharp, aery tone breaks across the Kiowa's channels and radio systems still operating below, that of a melodic young female Harpy voice surrounded by humming equipment.
*"Rites of Destruction hath been loosed 'pon thee Lonely One, given all unto the Great Mango they have. Guillotine shall seek protection of thee, giver of mercy."*
>'Guillotine', Pristine Light War Destroyer/Assault Breacher
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Emergency Recharge
[1d6+20 = (3+20) = 23] <Primary Pulsar Array Preheat
[1d6+18 = (6+18) = 24] <Twin Molecular-Disruption Lances Preheat
[1d6+15 = (2+15) = 17] <Mass-Plasma Driver Array Preheat
[1d6+10 = (6+10) = 16] <Secondary Tech-Arcane Weaponry Preheat
[1d6+18 = (1+18) = 19] <Tertiary Tech-Arcane Weaponry Preheat
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14] <Tech-Arcane Point Defense Systems Preheat
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <Accuracy Calculations
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <Assault Vector Settings
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <Optimal Range Settings
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] <Stabilizing Realspace Thrusters
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] <Intact Realspace Fold Drive
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
>Pareidolia seats himself on the crafted chair, propping his elbows on his knees and resting his helmet's chin on his hands.
"Understood, I hadn't checked on our EWAR status. Noted."
>Sighing briefly, he continues:
"Anonymous had to salvage and alter most of her internal routing. If Spiral can be retrieved and stabalized, I was hoping to have him create crystal-tech alternative replacements to make her more Tallus compliant. And I will. Can't afford any equipment upsets at this stage. You are both mission critical."

>Squinting at the distant Dul, he remains perplexed as the rock apparently dissolves and breaks.
"How... ?"
>He shakes his head as Dul triumphantly returns.
"Strange planar properties... "
>Raising his voice to be audible outside his helmet, he replies:
"We can deal with the feathers back at Razorback. I... don't understand how you purified them but-"
>He glances behind him at the Lorekeepers and offers a shallow shrug.
"-you've made some Lorekeepers here very curious about how you managed it."

>Standing up, he turns to face the pair.
"If Dul and I manage to return, I'll have her try to answer your questions."
>Heading towards the translocation matrix, he returns to Razorback and makes one final check to acquire any other missing materials, equipment, or replacements of expired gear before heading back to Lonestar's IFV.
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
'old ones, had to be rebuilt. we were locked in teleportarium datacores for two decades until transfer. records will be delivered after our reports are filed'
'There are two facts still troubling me, not including Olympa's presence there. May I?'
'sure? i mean, go ahead'
'Twin Hill city and the Overlook portion was home to 80,000 ponies. 30% of the population were descendants of Guardians, <400 nobles lived there, >20% were active Night and Day Guard of post-War reformation units. Why would a well protected, highly established, tax free neutral location in Central Equestria be abandoned, especially one that a Solar Herald inhabited?'
'....shit. none of that makes sense without context, witch. do we have direct access to local Solars outside of sending Chisan around? i dont like the thought of exposing his connections without absolute necessity'
'Excluding the Day, Royal, and Honor Guard here? They were part of an elite unit that only answers to Princess Celestia. Their records do not exist officially or unofficially. The one pony with close faction knowledge was Marquis du Spiral. His disappearance has caused a great deal of unease and damage.'
'cant believe this. witch are you dead positive theres not a single pony here with ties to the Solars?'
'None that are willing to speak with us outside of explicit authorization. The majority are Lunars, independents, Moorites, and Ferron. We would need to enact precisely what Aguina stated we should not, unless a critical threat is presented.'
'that royally screws us, pun intended. Enginseer we have a background data problem. Twin Hill/Overlook should not have been in the state it was. initiate a deep chroniton scan directly at the Bulletin Board'
'Agreed. Mallia, in the sole interest of security do not reveal the results of a scan. If questioned only state that you are investigating anomalous signatures in the Fortress and that the demi-sentient is unable to perform the duties it was designed for. We may have been compromised without knowing whom allowed that incident, why, when, and how.'

>Visibly shutting down emotion to an appropriate engrammatic level, Chisan makes an affirmative motion.
"That is correct, Enginseer. The Inquisitor stated each Black Candle is able to transfer at most eight standard tons of weight. The possibility of retrieving a fully intact datacore or STC processing unit is a technical unknown, but it is the best option we have. Do not apologize for what you do not know, Mallia."
>Shaking his head a polite 'no' motion, the Scion clasps hands behind his back, rocking on his heels and gazing past you into the Courtyard.
"Five minutes if you would, Enginseer. After my first meeting with Flash I learned of the numerous consequences being in this omniverse holds. Humans are at a perilous tipping point; we have few solid allies amongst the hundreds of factions on Tallus. The vast majority of humans have technology that is pre-Age of Strike, that is to say from the pre-Orbital Era. There are only three of us beyond the Nanite Age which is where the distinctions between magic and technology do not exist. It is our shared duty to, as she stated, 'uplift our ancestral analogues in slow, carefully planned measures so as not to disrupt or destroy their technological innocence'. Furthermore we are to never show them the volatile differences or changes from our own political, social, cultural, technological, religious, and spiritual conflicts as doing so would cause extensive damage to their gestalt. Flash is our gestalt. There are four other gestalts, one of which was according to her destroyed in a highly classified incident."
>Eyes flicking left and right in a struggle to find the right words, the Scion scowls downwards.
"Were she conscious Flash would have much more to speak on this topic, I am a wholly inadequate substitute for her wisdom and knowledge. As for the STC's themselves, including the unit below the Workshop, they must be copied entirely from local materials to prevent triggering the Era Lock. I was told that before Marquis du Spiral Disclosure left, he and Flash were prototyping wargear that would allow for gradual technological progressions"
>Suppressing his own irritation, Chisan exhales heavily through his nostrils, pointing a carapace finger towards the Fortress' center, then back into the Workshop.
"Ones which would not cause factions to seek conflict against the humans of this world, ourselves included. Golden and Dark Age of Technology eras of wargear that would not fail, cross-compatible alloys and composites that can be easily repaired, reliable weapons, scanning systems, even food preservation methods that would allow Razorback to be partially self-sufficient. Spiral's disappearance thoroughly destroyed the plans Flash had visions of. The foundations of our technological base were barely set, and we are ill suited to take up their duties. As our Inquisitor is severely injured and will not easily recover we are given free reign, pun not intended, to pursue duties that solely improve the standing of Razorback."
>Giving a briefly desolate expression, both gloved hands lift to rub his temples, speaking in a low, guarded tone.
"Including the forced 'interrogation' of an extremely critical allied Very Important Pony. Were Flash awake she would do so without hesitation, but my orders are to both protect the sanctity of locals and to assist said locals when requested.. Knight Raindrop included."
'In other words, you cannot overcome Storm Trooper anti-xenos engrams without experiencing severe distress?'
"That is correct Admiral."
'We do not have access to removal until Inquisitor Aguina is awake and aware. There is no recourse: interrogate the Rune Knight enough maintain her cover. Enginseer, I advise you to remove Flash's wargear and place it in the shared locker. We have a considerable amount of data to examine, cross-reference, file, and catalogue. Also, prioritize your date, it would be poor sport to keep a Knight waiting!'
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
>Placing the smartphone back in his dinner jacket, Anonymous lifts both hands in appealing motions.
"They're being taken care of at least. Wish I had better news for you, Natilda. Then again that's all I can bring into this reality: physical wishes. Not all of them can be obtained unfortunately."
>Deliberately letting that topic slide, the gestalt glances around the ruined beach front property, frowning under his mask.
"Write what you want on a disc, I'll notice it, but there's a weight limit of eight tons at the most. If the timing is right I'll slip onto your world to grab the object you want. If the timing isn't right then it might be in pieces or damaged. I can also try to obtain objects from across Tallus, but that can be tricky if the object in question is rare or unique. There's thousands of old warp gates in the Moors alone, though only a few are in use. I'm fairly sure the largest one could take.. her."
>Raising an eyebrow at the Eldritch-Android still harvesting the Rilvenni's interior with sincere pain in his tone.
"I'm gonna need a few dozen drinks..in any case the few ponies living on the Crag beaches will notice a serious predator's gone, should make them real happy. All of them are from older Ferron lineages that make their way to the main clan meetings on Cuteba and the Coast off Rica whenever possible. They do a lot of mate and resource trading with Cairn Wharf."
>Peeling back layers of Planar skin and flesh with excellent progress, Wild's electronic voice was suitably enthusiastic.
"I wasn't about to leave a prize like a fully intact core, and those teeth are coming with me. ...maybe I could make a gauntlet out of them?"
>Belatedly staring at the giant tech-abomination beginning to convert flesh into her own mass, Anonymous grimaces.
"You're not wrong about that Natilda, but most Planars have one or two completely safe and edible body parts. The tongue is usually one of those. Taste varies greatly, some are good, some are awful. I've had my share in the past."
"Mom, you only have four tins of food and a small amount of water. I can distill and desalinate ocean water but food is in extremely limited supply."
"Well, I have a couple pizzas that are still fresh if you want them. Can also swipe a few things from Razorback too, but most drinks in the sitting room are beer, cider, lager, small stuff. Water's not exactly vital so I don't keep much of it. "
"Without immediate transport, you will not enjoy one and a half day-to-night cycles without food. Without complete repairs it will take me approximately ninety hours to reach Cairn Wharf from here. Take your pick mom."
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <Sensor Node #2: Conversion Ratio
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Arcanum Sensors Array
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7] <Repair Tendril #1: Salvage Protocols
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <Repair Tendril #8

>Focusing onto the forward screens, then the small opening in front of you between Anon's gateway and the blown out hatch, the ocean's surface was remarkably calm.
>Then again it was sometime around or past midnight judging by the bright red Moon overhead.
>Studying the miniscule waves at length there was zero indication of larger ones coming in.
>At maximum zoom on both screens the only oddities were small amounts of colorful driftwood and dull amber spots offshore, around half a kilometer out, lazily traveling west.

>Turning her head unit left to face east, Wild switches her left screen to the upper camera view, the entire shoreline was still clear aside from pockets of black ash covering sand.
>Beyond some small trees the wave had knocked down to face north, the skyline had darkened considerably, large clouds at least 10KM away now loosing rain.
"No Construct signals or hostile life forms detected in vicinity. We may have evaded detection. Anonymous: a question if I may?"
"Ask, I'll answer if I can.. even if I don't want to."
"My Arcanum sensor array was unable to detect the Rilvenni. I was able to locate native materials and creatures but did not notice it until reaching visual range of my forward chest cameras. It was within five hundred meter radius of me for an unknown period of time. Do you know why?"
>Taking out his smartphone again, the gestalt pauses, placing it back as the green mask creases in thought.
"Arcanum? That's.. real unusual. Old too. It's an archaic predecessor of the modern Analysis spells that unicorns use to detect magical resonances or traces from creatures, artifacts, objects, materials. That's definitely from Kraut, Spiral shared his entire life, skills, knowledge, you name it with him. From a purely magical standpoint, at least that I know, you won't be able to detect Eldritch, Otherworldly, and Planar beings, or objects, that aren't inherently magical. Undead and Spectrals, so long as they're native, you should detect without a problem."
"Understood. My sonar, radar, lidar, and all other systems are offline or critically damaged. Until those are repaired then we may be forced to travel on land."
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
>Hearing smooth, even clicks from each barrel passing the receiving action, that seemed to be highly reliable.
>Giving the melded together system a short push, there was enough clearance to ignore minor amounts of debris.
>At the very least, Hollow's taste in weapons was exceptional.

>Locating the stock of ammo belts that fit both the M134's Razorback had access to, of course in the old Bravo Squad locker, you try to place them in the backpack with an overhead reach, but can't quite make it.
>Studying the exoskeleton's layout in the helmet screen, it was marginally more flexible than a standard model but nowhere near enough to qualify as a lightened version.
>Needing the right arm pulled up to carry the heavy weapon high to keep barrels from dragging on the ground, it was clear that you'd need a specialized carry box, preferably armored.

>Draping three 250-round belts on your left shoulder and heading back into the Workshop, you find Helping Hoof assisting Krinza at his anvil on the north side, the pair seated on a number of rugs.
>Fitting a recovered lance together from the Enclave, the master smith's ears perk up at the sound of a 650+ pound metal gorilla approaching, turning enough to examine the exo.
"Ah, Hollow's weapon, I was wondering what that voice was. How is the suit working for you Ivan? Any mechanical, technical, electronic, or crystalline issues? We were pressed for time so a few shortcuts were made."
Razorback Fortress: The Pagoda
GM Strangler
>Force resetting her connection to the Enclave's relay, 'Shiibo' turns a partially impressed glance at it reading 'out of range' once more.
'The small ocean bluff this Enclave was carved into has no metal deposits nearby, relay itself is protected in an alcove. Wireless in here is good, 80 gigs per second standard, max optimal of 100. The fusion of tech is human Late Information Age; there's ten powerful computers and routers worth synced together, components mostly match late stage designs. Only difference is the unit uses a gravity wave micropulse system. Hacking it won't work, best I could do would be mass jamming and the OS has layers of backups.'
>Briefly rubbing her chin, the standard unit brings up an image of Naliyna sitting at her trade stall working on her old hololith, a wide variety of odd crystal tools and plates scattered around.
'Now I understand. Her heuristic networks and self-analysis systems are fine, with enough time I can restore advanced functions. If she doesn't blow up at being corrected. Your notes and the prototype's data show Spiral avoided crystalline biotech, he knew enough to replace batteries and not much more, his focus was combining technology and magic. Mrs. Naliyna Remostrine on the other hand has access to complex semi-living designs from the Crystal Empire. InterPonies, hololiths, and hundreds of powered armor forms to state the least. Based on the standards of her species and friendliness, Mrs. Naliyna has a >96% chance of permitting AI transference.'
>Pausing to raise both eyebrows in tinged speculation.
'IF that's what you were considering, sir.'

>Sending a puzzled look at the Gryphon and minotaur pair, Dul uses the free set of Riftdrowner vines to make a circle for her, the gesture not translating at all.
"Dul put feather-stupid in rock. Feathers not-stupid now. Dul think it hard but was easy."
"That doesn't answer anything. I only have more questions!"
>The Lunar hawklike clawfaces himself in pain while the minotaur Lorekeeper snorts loudly, clapping his hands together.
"An-swers all to me."
>Changing from curious to outright humored, the clusters of Empire Lorekeepers snicker together, an older, frustrated sounding mare calls out.
"It's painfully obvious! Isolate the inherent resonances you don't want to keep from a specific item, destabilize said resonances to transfer said resonances to an inanimate object, then destroy said inanimate object to retain all other resonances! You need a few extra months in field work!"
"I'm a Rune Smith, not a rapaciously knowledgeable resonance recorder!"
"That's your problem!"

>Waving one scar-covered hand in appreciation over friendly discussions breaking out between Empire and Lunar adherents, the minotaur's black eyes squint humorously towards the Siren now tapdancing next to the matrice.
"Ma-ny thanks. No hur-ry, in-ter-rup-tions al-ways good here."

>Delivered into the Pagoda once more, Dul shifts the box to carry on top of her head.
>Naliyna had returned and was, still, focused on cross-referencing operational postings on her hololith's display, half-absently waving a hoof at you.

>The IFV was now parked 20M north of the Pagoda, rear facing the entrance and both hatches down.
>Hodch was seated atop several thick folded blankets on the left side close to the hatch, perusing through his collection of archaic, mostly banned items, stopping to look up and give you with a short nod.
"Lonestar is in front connecting the last of Spiral's relays. We have five days of food and other supplies packed in the lockers on this side. If the three of you need anything more I have a translocation marker set in the Mess Hall, and I'm bringing a number of materials with."
>Past the Reservist was Katyal, likewise on the floor though leaning against the bench seat, putting together a desert painted ACR styled rifle.
>Head turning to give you two quick up and down glances, the woman snaps her weapon together with a humored tone.
"And you were complaining I was going to be the late one."
"You have a terrible habit of arriving long after you were supposed to. What was the reason for tonight?"
"Had to give Folu a few dozen kisses and get all my spares out of storage. I wasn't about to leave anything behind, her new Mareguards don't need to walk into all my stuff again."
"Right. Remind me again why I picked you?"
"Folu trusts you, lots of ponies owe you favors, you're chill, and I like working for you. Also I didn't blow up Imeron a hundred times over and piss off your General."
"That last one is the most important. You do not want to hear that mare in an actual bad mood."
>Staring up at the ceiling, the deep purple unicorn makes as if to shake his head, then chuckles dryly as he lifts his chin at you.
"We're set so far as the three of us are concerned. I also brought five small manabombs and a medium, they're diamond canister sealed. If you have everything wanted or needed we can leave when ready. And, I did find an old warp gate sixty miles northwest of here. It's fifty percent functional."
Ivan the STALKER
>With a bit of a grunt, Ivan realized what he must do.
>Since it was a proper exoskeleton and not just the undersuit, shit got in his way even with the optimizations done.
>So, off he went, making his way to the workshop again.

>unga bunga noises as he walks in, gently closing the door. As much as the suit would allow for gentle.
"I haven't been able to combat test it yet, but motion seems to be going well. My main issue now is with this M134, and the fact that I'll be using it."
>He lightly demonstrated his predicament with ammo storage.
"I'll need better ways to access the ammunition belts."
>Linking them all together into one large line had come to mind, but he'd still need efficient storage.
"At least there's some hope for them, I suppose."
>I sighed a little and gave him a nod.
"That's... A bit limiting for myself. I can't use much of what that entails aside from wheeled vehicles and weaponry."
>Aside from Tallus objects, of course.
>Eyes rolling a little, I turn to a screen.
"And there's an inhabited Outpost not too far away. I wouldn't doubt that they'd be okay with parting a day's amount of hardtack or somesuch."
>Going hungry was not something I wasn't used to.
"I... will admit, I've never tried a pizza before. It's a luxury food for my people, I think? Never even really heard of it until coming to Tallus."

"I think the only reason we were found by it was because Wild was welding underwater. It didn't really care about her, just me once it figured out I was inside. It figured she wasn't edible, but cracking her open would get something, like... a giant oyster."
>Returning to Razorback, he ponders what Shiibo had postulated.
"Will consider later, if this mission is successful."

>Pareidolia looks over Katyal's leather weather gear as he steps up the ramp formed by the lowered hatches of the IFV.
(Built for mobility, wilderness survival, likely harsh conditions and minimal equipment loadout. Potential psychological concerns on file... will have to manage on-site.)
>Kneeling next to an unoccupied bench further in, he begins laying out the remaining artifacts he had picked up from the Enclave.
"Shiibo, give me a display notification when you've reached 100%."

>Looking towards Hodch, he holds up the trinkets Rasera had generously gifted to him.
"Are you able to enchant these to weapons or armor? Dul also purified that box of Crin Feathers-"
>He tilts his head back towards her.
"-so if you, Katyal, or Lonestar want to make use of them or any of these artifacts now would be ideal."
>Finished unpacking, he stands up to face the unicorn.
"Fifty percent meaning what in terms of impact to us?"
Razorback Fortress: The Workshop
GM Strangler
>Helping Hoof turns his attention to the exo for a quick study, the earth pony-sized pale green unicorn's eyebrows raise in thought.
"I am not surprised, that weapon weighs nearly twice what a standard minotaur longbow does. We could aid you in stress testing the defensive systems. Spiral was more focused on pioneering methods to improve armor than weaponry. 'Flexibility outperforms rigidity' was one of his favored phrases."
>Setting the lance pieces against the north wall a short distance away, Krinza places a notepad on the anvil, borrowed green gel pen lifting in a yellow grasp and sketching rapidly.
"Knew we should have come up with a specialized pack unit for it. Two belts or three, Ivan?"
"Without requesting specifics that might have been wasted effort. How much time do we have before material deliveries?"
"Two to three hours. A multi-level armored box might be best. It would allow rapid deployment of ammunition belts and have considerable storage space, though you would need to be able to attach and detach it quickly."
"We have those rare earth magnets from.. what is her name again?"
"Velasi Aguina, an Inquisitor... the opposite of our Inquisitors."
"Would that be the same as-"
"No, and do not speak her name here either. I do find it unusual that if two letters were changed it would be the same name."
"Then Spiral was right for an uncounted number of times."
>Helping Hoof sets a warily questioning expression on his face, the yellow unicorn lifting the pad to show schematics of a wide, armored crate, twenty small circles indicating magnet locations that would connect to the exoskeleton's rear plating.
>In the bottom of the storage unit are a pair of removable dividers, one atop the other, and on the right side are two short ropes attached to doors, one front, one rear, that would allow an ammunition belt to be pulled free if tipped to the right several degrees.
"Would this be sufficient? I can add more levels and doors easily. Estimated weight of fifty to fifty-five pounds, that should not stress the frame or power crystal systems by more than five percent."
Ivan the STALKER
"It'd need a bit of assistance with keeping it from dragging, but that's when I'm one-handing it."
>He hummed a little, nodding.
"Same goes in the Zone, anything more serious than the military's armored suits hold a compromise of flexibility and hardness."
>Ivan would put his hand up to his chin, contemplating the design.
>Ignoring the fact his helmet was covering said chin.
"With the magnets, I wouldn't have to even worry about straps getting caught on the exoskeleton. Looks perfect for what I've got planned."
Lost in the Crag Moors: STILL Stuck (In The Middle Of You)
GM Strangler
>Anon reaches to his right, a door swinging open and fishing through gem bottles.
"Nothing you can think of that'd be useful? Then again heavier weapons are always a good idea. ...wait a second, there's a woman's bodysuit in the Enclave that I could grab, something that, ah, what was her name, Natasha? Something like that. She had it made last year and only wore it a few times. Say the word and I'll bring it here."
>Left screen returning to the regional map, the mini-Wild caricature appears to remark potential routes.
"Closest outpost is forty-nine-point-two miles west, half a mile north from the shore. It's a permanent location, estimated one hundred to two hundred inhabitants."
"Those are Crag Moors Ferron. They'll certainly enjoy meeting a human from Razorback but you'll have to leave your... daughter a ways out, you'll have to convince them she isn't a threat. Good news is they're the opposite of Lishinki: polite, free spirited, lazy, always happy to help out, and they love to trade which is fairly ironic considering how isolated they are. When you get there check everything, I bet they'll have plenty of odds and ends that they can't or won't use. And lots of food, most of it will be dried though. The bad news is they might not have a place for you to sleep, they like their tree houses being at least sixty meters high."
"I will be producing a number of trade goods within the hour."
>A pained stare bores into the ground for a few seconds, the gestalt sighing, then hefts out a crate of assorted gem bottles and slides it onto the cabin's floor plate.
"Don't want to know what that means. Ever. Here's what I've got for water but I'll need those bottles back, and-"
>Reaching for something else, a wide, thin cardboard box is placed on top the create, the contents still hot.
"One ultra thin crust medium pizza straight from the oven. Pepperoni, sausage, bacon, olives, tomatoes, and some sort of aged Prench cheese, I think they call it Crouyiere. It's pretty damned good hot or cold. Hm. Let me think a bit."
>Arms folded, Anonymous swings his legs in thought while four of Wild's tendrils separate the Rilvenni's undamaged skin into large rolls.
>The other four were.. eating, you guessed, small amounts of black mass absorbing ichor and severed tentacles alike off the sand.
"I've got nothing, can't think of how to dampen sound underwater, especially not if repairs are external. My phone doesn't have much range outside a relay and scanning for Constructs is a bad idea in the open. Best I can offer is some technical advice from Kraut."

[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <Sensory Node #2: Conversion Ratio
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #1: Scavenging Protocols
[1d6 = 3] <Repair Tendril #2
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #3
[1d6 = 2] <Repair Tendril #4
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #5
[1d6 = 1] <Repair Tendril #6
[1d6 = 5] <Repair Tendril #7
[1d6 = 4] <Repair Tendril #8
"The closest thing I've ever been able to use as a heavy weapon would be a PRTD. And unless Wild is able to operate a howitzer..."
>I'd rather not find out how dexterous those outside tendrils of hers can become.
>If it directly involved me anyway.
"It... Shouldn't be too hard to convince them? I'd certainly hope so anyway. Especially with... Wild's idea of trade good sweetening the idea."
>A pained look.
"Believe me, you're better off ignoring the idea."
>Shaking my head, I glance down at the offered pizza product.
"If they've got sentries watching for approaching wildlife, or anything else, they'd spot the two of us coming up. And myself getting out of Wild, so that'll probably help putting them at ease."

>Picking up a slice, I glance at it cautiously before taking a bite.
"Luckily she can repair on the go, so at least she can fix herself up as we make our way to the outpost."
Razorback Fortress, The Pagoda
GM Strangler
>Resuming connection to the holo-laptop and prototype unit, 'Shiibo' gives a quick salute.
'Estimated 30 seconds for full data transfer.'
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <Tech-Research
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <B.Electronic Warmare
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3]
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]

>Taking the passenger front seat for yourself, Hodch's face brightens in subtle intrigue as he tips the archaic black boat figurine onto its side.
"Of course, though not perfectly like Spiral could. He did teach me a few methods to calm Otherworld resonances when imbuing humans too. I've been looking forward to feeling what a Neighpon trinket can offer, and that lovely mare even gave me the Moor cat one in exchange for a letter of recommarendation from a Starborn Nightblade."
>Side eyeing the desert Ranger with a proud nostril flare, then giving the Siren a respectful nod, Katyal studying the three with some familiarity.
"Which wasn't necessary but I had no intention of leaving her go empty hooved."
"Make friends everywhere you can and leave no enemies for later, right? We've got that law in the Circle. ..I've seen a few like these in Buzzard's Rest, all the big museums host an exhibit every month that display gem-smithing from all around the world. What do they do?"
"Crin feathers resist most all forms of magic that aren't highly specialized, best for armor. Dragon-scale sphere improves armor or shields and creates a form of defensive skinshield, similar to the feathers. Dragon trinket improves piercing weapons by a significant degree and has a potent Force elemarental. The lamb only needs to be carried, it's quite good at negating detrimarental effects on the mind and spirit."
>Numerous internal monitor connections inside click on, Lonestar speaking through a single unit in the central bay.
*"Not real sure what ta take for my part. Hodch's got th'skills ta put enchantments together with spares an'time. Take your pick first, then th'rest a'us can decide. It's your call up front."*
>Stepping in to place the box down close to the three, Dul turns left a quarter circle, sitting down to stare at the woman with a puzzled head tilt.
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <Siren's Gaze
"Dul not hurt bad by unicorn magic, Vortex magic, blood magic, psion magic. Dul get little hurt from weapon but magic-weapon little stings. Dul hurt lots by Sun magic, cold Crystal wind magic big hurts. El-der-itch magic hurt worst."
>Passing a glance over the Siren in marked slowness, Hodch cracks a helpful smile while lifting a single tube of wrapped yellow paper.
"Full translation: Sirens ignore roughly half of most magic, including Sorcery, Druidry, and Mysticism. Weapons do a quarter of their potential harm or less, enchanted weapons a tiny bit more. She's somewhat weak to Plasma and Rime, which I highly doubt exist in the New Everfree. Eldritch is half again more effective."
"You dead-singer? You know Siren ways?"
"I don't have to sing, but yes I do speak to the dead, Spectrals, and Revenants. Your Great Remnant is a trusted friend to my order, we've had thousands of packages delivered by Sirens, Vanbraces, Scrakes, and Stiras. He's explained some of your Vortex."
>Setting her rifle on the right side, Katyal lifts her shoulders, fingers tapping together until shaking her head.
"Beats me. Both the feathers and dragon-sphere sound good but I'd need something removed from my armor, I'm real specialized to hit and run or threaten down. I'd like the keep the Corsair's Signet in case we run into physical enemies. I agree with the boss man and boss stallion, you go first."

*"Half means it'll take th'Remnant a few minutes ta let us through. It's like old bridges, gotta keep 'em repaired. That one ain't been used enough fer him ta pay 'tention to it all'a time. We'll save half an hour or more takin' it."*
>Nodding in agreement, he gestures to the other staves, necklaces, and ecetera brought from the Enclave arrayed on the bench before tucking his small white opal lamb figurine back into his pack.
"I see. And I meant the Enclave equipment, a miscommunication. I already have plans for the Neighponese trinkets, though you may take the Crin Feathers. For now, I'll make use of the dragon sphere being imbued to me."
>Picking up Lacsidrae and the Psychokinesis Pendant, he wills the spellbook to stick to his hip and lifts the seal of his helmet up to slip the necklace around his neck and under his suit lining.
"Rasera spoke highly of you. Very moved, honored to meet you."
>He glances towards Hodch for a moment before rolling his shoulders, finally free of all the extra weight.

"Lonestar, my helmet system may be interface capable with the gunnery controls. Are they functional?"
>Knowing Lonestar likely could hear their conversation from the sealed forward cockpit, he directs his question towards the general ceiling of the vehicle.

Budieca and Ri'Vahz and Food and Headaches and Hospitality
The GM L.O.N.T

>Amused whistling noises blew out of Budieca's nares as her eyes looked to the ceiling above Sand Cutters' head as if she was seeing through it to the next level of her tower.
"I've also heard they do funny things like vibrate on the spot when extra excited. Swe and I should visit that one Batpony place, the Basin I believe its called. Would be a nice trip away from home."

"That's good to know, don't want my recipes stolen from my head!"
>Budieca said with a very clear sign of relief, knowing her cooking secrets are still hers and hers alone.
"I'll get somebird t' inform Chamber Librarian Grimm to pack his bags. Hope the Tower Guard won't mind a grouchy Gryphon skulking 'bout."
"Why not send Eolas-Toir with him too?"
"She will go if Grimm requests it, he's been grumblin' too much an' I wan' to hear it from his own beak if he wants her by his side."
"That's akin to torture and you know it! He hates expressing himself especially in front of others."
"Good, I get to see him grovel fer once!"

>Both Gryphons jumped up at this, the calm atmosphere of the room gone. Their mannerisms and faces were a cocktail mixture of shock and anger at this most unexpected news.
"Who hasn't heard of the Claw being stolen! And you say Razorback has it? THAT FUCKING CRIPPLED EQUINE SLUT!"
>Ri'Vahz shrieked, her shrill voice was up to such a degree it could of shattered glass and certainly hurt Sand Cutters ears. Along with Budiecas', whom were flat against her skull yet this could be out of fury too.
"And Razorback has it, sold to them! If the Shadow Wings were still here or anybird else for that matter Razorback would be wiped from Tallus. Doesn't matter about the how's or why's they'd be done. It needs to be brought back before somebird finds out..."
>Her heated emotions evaporating into solemn pity Budieca sat back down, dejected wings sagging at her side.
"Simon and me fought beak and claw for Lucky. Oooooh that whore."
>Ri'Vahz was still fuming however, wings rigid and talons threatening to pierce into the stone floor itself.
"I'm sending somebird with you back to Razorback to get that damn Claw. They'll have one of those fancy seals that'll allow them t' tear the place apart to find that damn thing!"
"You're not going?"
"I wish! But my claws are needed here, gotta keep preening feathers with the other Kingdoms still. Good to distract 'em. ...And I wanna be here when Cu'Nir and Simon get back here."
>Releasing all her rage with a weary sigh, the Warlord almost collapsed onto the floor but stood firm.

>A pleased expression slowly formed across the Warlords beaked face at Sand Cutters answer now all her anger had been spent.
"Good ta know...I'll be heading back to the Castle. Too much has happened and I need to sleeeeeep or else I'll punch somebird."
>She wearily started moving her legs and went for the door, but not before stopping at the pony and brushing a pinion against her mane.
"Somebird will be here for you in the mornin'. Sleep well now."
>With a nod she moved on.
>Budieca with a bit more energy than the other catbird got up, she gave her Warlord a low bow of the head then turned her attention to Earth mare.
"There is a guest nestbed on the 3rd floor for you, the heat from the fire is funnelled up there so you'll be nice and warm for being so high. Or you can stay here, there is enough wood feeding the fire it will last the most of the night."
Mallia Castella
>The new objective to enact the chroniton scan on the Bulletin Board was noted.
(At the Bulletin Board? Understood. It's only a short walk around the corner...)

>Her hands squeezing the mechadendrite claw of her faithful third limb while holding the box of flower under one arm rather awkwardly, she briefly darts an eye sidewards towards the general direction of the command center for about a second, before putting her rapt attention back onto Chisan.
>She took a deep breath, and then sighed it all out with a rather thick exhale. Her eyes softening even as the shame lingered.
>Then hardens again as she senses the seriousness in Chisan's tone and becomes absorbed in his words. Nodding along slowly as she unconsciously directs her micro-cogitator to remember this down to the syllable spoken by the Stormtrooper. Her arms going a little more around the box she had been given to adjust her grip on it, but she gestures are swift--not wanting to miss even one breath.

"ᴺᵃⁿᶦᵗᵉ ᴬᵍᵉ ... ᵀʰʳᵉᵉˀ"
>Mallia mouths that as she listens. Grimacing bitterly at the notion that Flash's plans were in tatters, before squinting and equalising again.
(... Gestalt? An organised whole that is as more than the sum of their parts.)
(This has bigger connotations. How can Inquisitor Velasi be a gestalt?...)
>And then blinks and shifts a bit, interest making her eyes squint a bit more as she is told a gestalt had actually died before.
'ᶜˡᵃˢˢᶦᶠᶦᵉᵈ, ᵒᵏᵃʸ...'
>... Then she blinks a couple times as she notices the man scowling and looking down, teasing a sympathetic and unjudging full smile from the Enginseer while still listening intently.

>Which then drops to a concerned, slightly pained, more lopsided smile. But she swiftly made an attempt to chin up, putting up a bit more confidence in her eyes and voice.
"At least you'll get to ventilate some frustrations with this next task, right?"
>Mallia's straightens up a bit more and lightly slaps the stormtrooper's carapace pauldron in a very Guardsman gesture of comradery.
"And, If it gives you any fortitude Chisan, I understand the situation better now. It's still quite a lot to digest but, hey, you've got the support of the ENTIRE Adeptus Mechanicus in the whooole~ galaxy, right here, in the form of the weakest enginseer!"
>Mallia grinned and made a gesture towards her whole self with her hand, though the grin evens quickly.

>Looking a little aside as Witch-Two's reminder to get to her date puts a bit of haste in her speech. Looking at Chisan attentively but with a sudden anxiety in her eyes.
"Is--is there anything else, Stormtrooper? if not then, best I get underway before my delaying becomes offensive."

(--Understood. I'll get to the armoury to take armour and arms off and then get to the date. And after that, scan the bulletin board!)
(Off-hand. I am still a bit worried about Olympa's statement of calling what is in the Twin Hill vault 'mean guard stuff', shortly before detecting a seemingly Construct signature within. Who is going to handle retrieval operations anyway? Us, right?)
Sunny Feathers
352815 352817 352845 353056

>Sunny didn't envy the human having to deal with a battalion or two of the preserved dead, but she still kept glancing back over occasionally in case something went horribly wrong.
>What that would look like is not something she knew for sure.
>Focusing back on the Tainted assault division, Sunny racked her brains for any idea at all for how they could be tripped up, even momentarily. There was nothing she could actually do about the aerial assault.
>Remembering that lately, objects had been imparted to her without her notice, she began to pat herself down, holding a vague hope that it had happened again.
>Nothing was stuck to her suit, so she checked her saddlebags next, coming across a green card that she definitely hadn't put there before.
>It even came with a set of instructions. Where in all the planes had this come from?
>She wasn't about to question her good fortune when Vestal's thoughts on the matter at hoof barged directly into her head like an unwelcome guest.
>Vestal had a point however, it could very well be any one of those factors...

('Or worst case scenario, it's all of them. There's no way to know for sure without removing factors from the field, even temporarily, to other locations on the planet's surface to see if they change course.')

>She left it at that since there was nothing they could really do without severely compromising their own defenses for an assault that was approximately twenty minutes away, they just needed to deal with the Tainted before they could arrive and complicate things.
>So first things first, an assault division of Tainted was bearing down on their position. Attacker advantage was extreme lethality at close range and size that allowed them to close distances quickly. Defender advantage was greater effective numbers and ranged assault.
>Therefore, halt or slow the enemy advance to take full advantage of ranged assault before contact.
>Microsingularity? Too dangerous, high risk of collateral damage.
>Falling rocks? Not effective enough to slow or stop something that size.
>Water? The moors are drenched enough and that's not stopping them.
>The moors are drenched...
>If she could summon a sheet of molten material of sufficient size and drop it on top of them, that would slow and damage them on its own and flash vaporise water already present.
>Sunny began filling out the card, doing the math as she went.
>Magma from the planetary mantle is good, but has many different components that may reduce its full effectiveness due to differences in material density, melting points, and other factors.
>A uniform material would serve better, molten silicon being a principle component of most magma flows made it a good choice.
>Uncertain, she tests the overherd link and tries to direct her thoughts towards the relevant parties, primarily the Watch Guard General and members of Razorback.

('I'm going to try and summon a disc of molten silicon right on top of the forward assault division, if anyone wants to time their own attacks with that, give it a good three to five seconds to achieve maximum effect.')

>Sunny finished filling out the card for a maximum capacity sized disc of silicon a hundred degrees above boiling point from Tallus' planetary mantle to be dropped on top of the forward and central ranks of the incoming lunar guardian assault divisions from a height of thirty-five meters above ground level and...
>Made her wish to whoever was listening to please take this card and grant it as intended.

[1d6 = 1] < Green Card: Molten Silicon disc
352817 352845 353056 353068
>After getting a assuring order from the General, Jeff begins to turn on and re-battery all of his devices on him.
>Sorry watch...
>He'll know exactly when interference will start when his TacPad starts acting up, anyway.
>Looking over at Sunny and Emerald holding the white box... her demeanor.
"What... do you even have in that thing? Whatever it is hope it helps at least."

>Waiting for Silver to respond, he doesn't get a reply form her. Instead it was Broken Hoof over the link.
>Her calm demeanor made him think something had happened to the silver sister. Had she died?
>Sure he didn't trust er, but he didn't hate her.
>He was such an enigma sometimes...
('I see. Thank you for letting me know, Broken Hoof. There's a lot going on here. The Tainted, and Construct Carrier is inbound. We're being aided by Day, Night, Lunar, Watch, and Tower Guard forces. A Watch Guard General is commanding the defensive, and a Ruling Councilerge Member is here too. It's pandemonium. The Fortress is cleaning out it resources to help. And we're still underforced.')

>Taking in the Overherd chatter as it comes in, Clemency swings over from above and dumps a duffle overboard.
(Thank's Clem. Good hunting up there! Hope my MOAB didn't shake you too much up there!)
>Although it falls bit away form him, but it's caught by... Krinza?!
>Who brings it over to him, as he's ready to rumble himself.
"Thanks Krinza! Welcome to the party, pal!"
>Mildy surprised the smith showing up, and already hurling lances, Jeff opens up the gift bag for him.
>Inside was his spotting scope, which he quickly puts back into his pack.
>Then he hefts up the chunky six-shot Milkor M32, and swings the back plate to find it preloaded with HE rounds.
>The rest of the duffle was filled with what he assumed was the entire Armory's worth of forty mikes, both HE's and Airbursts.
>He charges the rotation spring, and sets the range for 400m and adjusts the stock.
>As the Tainted begin flanking off, he focuses on the front of the horde charging directly up the Southern road.
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10] <U.Heavy Weapons
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14] <M.Ranger
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10]
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14]

>Sunny's trying to wish for... magma to fall on them?
>Well, that's one way to attack them.
>If they're pulling all of the explosives from Razorback, which last time he check was a FUCKING LOT, that should so some damage as well.
>He's popping firecrackers with the MK32 in comparison, at this point.
>What could he try for that can do some more damage?
>...it's risky with all the electronics and incoming areal elements but if it's firepower they're going with.
>Would a strike drone be too much?
>He'd have overwatch and can launch missiles at the leaders without too much collateral along with Clemency. Could maybe even tag-team the leaders.
(Hey Clem, how you feel about sharing airspace with a Reaper?)
>Safetying the M32and resting it against the barrier, Jeff takes his pen out again ans starts writing on the disk.
>Height, flight speed, orbiting radius, payload...
'MQ-9 Reaper Block-5 drone. Deploy at 4 kilometers above ground at cruising speed, pre-programmed bombing run program 6 kilometers West from current position bearing due East. After strafing run, set to counter-clockwise orbital strike routine at 4km radius out from current position. Loaded with GBU-12 Paveway VI's and AGM-114 II's. Deploy portable drone remote control module with manual override at location of wish disc.'
>He awaits a result, hoping it not to be too disastrous.
[1d6 = 4] <Silver Wish Disc
[1d6 = 5]
352845 353061 353068

>Waiting in formation, Clemency sees the barriers in front of him crumble and streaks of insignificant shrapnel come towards him
>Not bothering to move, Clemency then begins to orient his weapons towards the Tainted line and then flies forward
>Clemency winces at the Primal Psion yelling at her, even if he did follow her orders by waiting for the shield to fall
>However, the use of electronics is reassuring, turning his visor back on and flipping it down
>In once within 8,000 meters, Clemency lets loose with a rocket barrage followed by a burst with the HMGs into the giant Assault division leading the charge

[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <Hydra 70 Rocket Pods
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15]
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12]
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15]
[1d6+7 = (3+7) = 10] <XM296 Heavy Machinegun
[1d6+7 = (1+7) = 8]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <Untrained Heavy Weapons

>He then peels off and goes around the charging lines, trying to find the Solar Support Strikers of the Tainted, ordering the two Destroyers Battalions
(This is Clemency to my Destroyer battalions. I want one Destroyer battalion to go after the Lunar Airstrike divisions and the other to go after the Solar Air Commarend. If dealt with, then go after the Solar Guardian Support Cadres. You have your orders, go now!)
>With the visor lit up again, Clemency tries to spot any Tainted HVTs
>He figured any leadership destroyed will blunt their charge
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Expert Perception
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <Radar

>Clem hears that aery harpy voice and is somewhat relieved
>Every bit helps at this point
>Clemency checks his radar to see if the Guillotine appeared
*"Guillotine, how long until you shall provide protection?"*


>"Molten silica? If it hits and slows them down, I'll take anything"
>Trying to flank around the Tainted formaions, Clem hears Jeff in his head
>Another wish disk?
>It caused Clem to start thinking about his own he has on him
>But for now, he hears that he'll be coordinating with a strike drone
(MQ-9? Sounds good. I'll update on Tainted HVTs and coordinate with the drone. It's controlled on your pad right? Also, I have a Harpy Light Destroyer coming. Unknown ETA but will update.)
The L.O.N.T
353063 353068
Lonts helmet Gun.jpg
Master Aligned Valor: +8 for 3 turns to combat, +1 to movement
Master M.o.S: +2 for 4 turns to combat, adds two extra rolls for combat

>Lont shuddered at hearing the voice of the General so clearly in his head, this was something he knew he would have to get used to one day, he could not keep his bias towards Psions forever if he was truly going to live on Tallus for the rest of his life.
>Even if that life was a short lived one judging by the predicament he was in.

>So much was happening it would of left less experienced soldiers shellshocked, dazed and confused from the overwhelming of the stimuli. The disappointing Manabombs, the devastating strike summoned by Jeff and the pilfering of Razorback explosives by the Strikers. Though his own explosives were left on his person. And the constant updating on these Gunboats he's been hearing ever since he stepped foot into the Basin.
>Hearing the discharge of so much human weaponry at the end of the General and Kunid Erakoi's exchange oddly enough eased his nerves.
>Though that didn't last long when he felt a voice declare the Empress laid silent.
('She is dead?')
>He thought aloud, he needed a clarification. If she was then his plan for her to help Tacit was utterly scuttled. There was a pang of regret there also at her apparent passing.

>Caught off guard by the last squad of humans, he would of said something if they had not brushed against his feathers which stopped his protests.
>Finding himself at a Bren Built Barricade, Lont checked over his Spiker as his wings flicked out, scaring some of the FNG's away and giving him space all to himself. It did not matter to him if they had to be on top of each other to fire their weapons, he got room for his new wings.
>He noted how the Earth ponies reacted to the scars warmth as he finished looking over his gun, history was there no doubt.

>('It appears Ash Kicker is not here. Damn.')

>The winged Operator was taken aback. He was expecting the stressed yet soothing voice of Cadence to respond to him, not Topaline Shore. He regained his composure quickly at hearing there was still trouble in the Empire.
('Is that so? I will return there as soon as I am able to help with the hunt, appears my work is far from done there. And thank you for-')
>Again. He was again abruptly cut off. He didn't even react this time, instead he started planning on how to keep Belregard's subordinates away from Razorback or more importantly to stop the FNG's from shooting at the human-hating Ethereal.
>Announcing it on the Overherd should do the trick.
('This is Lont of Razorback, yes my voice is different but nevermind that. Crystal Empire units are incoming as friendly reinforcements. ETA is unknown. However it is confirmed they bring with them Ethereals to deal with the incoming Constructs. To all human elements stay out of their way, they -might- tolerate my presence. Not yours. Remember, they are efficient killers of Otherworldly beings, and I speak from first-hand experience.')
>He mused at that last part.

>Seeing the shield absorb the MOAB's shockwave Lont began chambering rounds of Livermorium. He was silently happy his new limbs were out of danger for now.
>Less could be said for Clemency, who he felt deep brotherly sorrow for at being yelled at by the General.

>Finished slamming home the last round Lont perked up at hearing a Pegasi calling out to Razorback with a cunning plan. It was crazy enough to work. He also heard the familiar voice of Jeff who was talking to Clem. He had a feeling he was here too but was glad it was confirmed.
('A blast of Rime would do the trick.')
>He thought on the Overherd in response to Sunny, he would pump a few shots into the Tainted first before using up his own Wish disc. It was on his person, somewhere.

>Shouldering the Spiker Lont aimed at the closet Tainted, old training regime kicking in. They may not of been metal based giants but the mechanics were still the same. Aim for the joints and it will fall.
('Aim for the knees, everyone.')
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] >E.Perception +Primal Leadership
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] >H.E
('This may sting a little.')
>He quipped at the Tainted' expense, the Batpony influence overtaking him since he was smackdab in the middle of the Moors.
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] >U.Punmancy
[1d6+7 = (1+7) = 8] >E.Combat Shotgun +P.L
[1d6+7 = (4+7) = 11]
[1d6+7 = (6+7) = 13]
Basin Village: The Lost Legions, Post #1/4
GM Strangler
353068 353078

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 9 turns.

>Shearing Lances from the Watch Guard and Stalliongrad's Support Striker Battalions crash down into the Assault Divisions, pretuned electromagnetic charges doing nothing to slow the Complete Tainted from charging.
>As the Second Dynasty bends spacetime to land human explosives across the frontal rank Assault Divisions, the sequence of explosions ring out in tune with the Hail of Glory loosing fusillades of air shattering secondary and tertiary weapons, loud hums resonating from the west as its primary armaments deliver their payloads before stuttering out.
>Severe as the total damage would have been against conventional armies, the Tainted were not slowed in the least.

>Lunar Guardian Assault Divisions, 8 Generals remaining @ 15 Speed, 260M south of Basin Village
>Solar Guardian Assault Divisions, 2 Generals remaining @13 Speed, 300M south of Basin Village
>Lunar Guardian Airstrike Division, 1 Captain remaining @ 16 Speed, 140M southwest of Basin Village
>Solar Guardian Airstrike Division, 1 Captain remaining @ 13 Speed, 240M southeast of Basin Vilalge
>Solar Guardian Support Divisions, 4 Captains remaining @ 11 Speed, 450M south of Basin Village
[1d6+20 = (4+20) = 24] <Solar Guardian Support Divisions: Spectral Lances

('Nine minutes until Shattering Skies enters atmosphere. Lancers fill ranks for the dead immediately.')
('Cultists say there's not a single explosive left in the Arenas, armories, depots, barracks.. not even the Villages. That's the last ones and those on the southern road are set, they can't be moved. I've ordered them to remain where they are. I won't risk their lives here General, they know far too much history!')
('I am forced to agree. Moorites and Lunarites, do not enter Basin Village until all is clear, your losses would be the undoing of Equestria's history.')
('There are advantages to using tactics that aren't military in the slightest, General. I'll pray we don't end up like the Village recruits that Sharonel slaughtered. STRIKERS! Switch to standard lances, preserve your energies for the Constructs!')
[1d6+17 = (5+17) = 22] <Support Striker Companeighs: Psionic Lances
[1d6+17 = (2+17) = 19] <Watch Guard Support Striker Battalions: Psionic Lances
[1d6+15 = (5+15) = 20] <Second Dynasty Support Strikers: Psionic Lances

('Destroyer Battalion Four has damaged th-')
('NEGATIVE DESTRUCTION! All allied forces: those Destroyers were unable to destroy individual Solar Air Commarend Division Tainted, we have to bring them all down at once! Hail of Glory prepare for counter-boarding action! May the Oceanlands take their hearts and souls for what they could do, we're in for the fight of our lives starting here and now-')
('Weapon repairs on Hail of Glory completed, the Captain is attempting to resolve issues but has stated that the vessel itself is less than forty percent restored. A maiden's second voyage indeed.)
>The voice of a dead exhausted 30's human male from late Gaullic lineages speaks across the multi-Overhead, much of the weapons fire from the far west removing entire sections of Tainted corporeal forms although the main heavy systems burn out after the first second burn out in choking explosions.
('Negative General, this ship isn't even thirty percent restored but here I am trying to coax it back to life like it was my own body before transference. Armor's holding good, I'm at fifty percent external and ninety percent internal. Primary weapon generators damaged, can't keep it firing for much longer but I'll baby it, two more sets of malfunctions like the first ones and I'm going to be soul-burned. Boarders will have to go through point defense systems, if they make it that far.')
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <C-State Logic Repair Matrix
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Accuracy Calculations
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Optimal Range Vectors
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <System 18 Repairs
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <System 31 Repairs
[1d6+16 = (6+16) = 22] <Main Tech-Arcane Armaments: Underload
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7] <Main Tech-Arcane Armament Repairs
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Secondary Tech-Arcane Armaments
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Tertiary Tech-Arcane Armaments
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15] <Point Defense Systems Preheat
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Stabilizing Thrusters
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Weapon Stabilizers

>Heavy arcane weapons from the translocation gateway of Battered Shores directly above the fountain reaches the front Assault Divisions, molecular-splitting reactions ripping deep gouges across the Complete Tainted lines, the secondary and tertiary systems overloaded by significant degrees, scattering across the giant forms to little effect.
('Captain of Battered Shores here, ship's stabilized but we're having serious problems trying to maintain this gateway and fire through it at the same time! We'll try another round of focused fire, if that doesn't work we'll have to snap out for immediate repairs, whole crew is starting to get headaches, my Lieutenant's snout is bleeding.... SHE'S GOING INTO SHOCK, ASTRAL MEDICS GET TO HER NOW!')
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11] <Accuracy
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <Optimal Range Calculations
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18] <Main Arcane Armamarents
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <Secondary Arcane Armamarents
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11] <Tertiary Arcane Armamarents

>Followed by long range weapons, machineguns, and the few heavies Razorback could deploy, a third round of fire is accompanieghed by dozens of marefriends and the few stallion friends launching volleys of Void-tinged lances, partially directed by Bren shouting target coordinates.
[1d6+13 = (3+13) = 16] <Razorback Rookie Squads, 7 total
[1d6+16 = (4+16) = 20] <Razorback Veteran Squads, 10 total
[1d6+20 = (6+20) = 26] <Razorback Mercenary Squads, 11 total
[1d6+25 = (3+25) = 28] <Razorback Elite Squads, 8 total
[1d6+28 = (5+28) = 33] <Razorback Marefriends, 20 total
[1d6+19 = (4+19) = 23] <Razorback Stallionfriends, 9 total
('Two-Oh-Five! We're gonna hold long as we can 'ere! Keep this fuckin' line 'til we's burned out body an'soul or we ain't moving! Make 'em barrels melt if ya gots ta!')

>The Lost Legions: 90,903 Morale of 285,678

Basin Village: The Lost Legions, Post #2/4
GM Strangler
353068 353078
>The immediately burning gaze of Vestal Gardenia lands on you from behind the fountain, her full contempt reaching through the Overherd in echoing tones.
('Ten full Maniples hit the Citadel earlier tonight including an Argus Command Dominator pair. Those aren't for show pegasus, they stick around to watch the complete destruction of an entire city-state, one survived and four hundred or so models blinked back to that fucking Continental Invasion Carrier! Stalliongrad is crawling with millions of Unceasing Dead, Second Dynasty is reactivating a Late Dynasty Temple, Lunar faction is busy picking up the pieces on the Citadel, part of the Moors is burned out and the other part is trying to reach the Citadel, Solar faction declared war against something nopony knows about after dusk, and to top it all that off there's over a THOUSAND OTHERWORLD DRAGONS taking on a Construct abomination taller than the Spire somewhere!')
('Vestal, there is a-')
('CAN IT! The only event that'd provoke a reaction large enough to warrant them sending Battleship Landers would be what's happening right here right now! You want to talk about the perfect storm that's taking Equestria's attentions and leaving everypony open for the ninth largest Construct assault this world has faced: this is it right here!')
>Much more calmly, the Watch Guard General intervenes to quiet her distant Primal kin.
('Focus on the problems at hoof. I will not allow panic to kill anypony. Sunny, even the most minute fragmarent of aid would be exceptional right now.')

>Lifting from your hoof to eye level, the paper card flashes a neon green... and turns black, falling apart in a painfully slow display of drifting ash, a brief scent of failure tinging the air before dissipating.
>That wasn't supposed to happen.

>Halfway lost in a new division of mixed Lancer Guards rushing forwards to replace the deceased, Mercy's unnervingly calm marental tone reaches you.
('Sunny, I can do nothing against Tainted this large nor are my new weapons capable of harming them, we need to buy time. There is a relay southeast of here atop the Basin Arena, level twenty, rooftop. We cannot destroy it as there are no spares but it would be easy to transfer with me. If you would accompaneigh me to shut it down we can protect you.')
('You want to do what?! There's no.. this can't be helped. You better not die out there Spirit Walker, I knew the Ninth Ruling Councilierge Skullcracker and his history quite well until you released him. GENERAL! Organize a unicorn platune to translocate those two if Miss Sunny pegasus agrees!')

>Terrified from every wit she might have developed or found over the past two years, Emerald's gaze tracks upwards as she half-shouts over the rippling weapons fire and thousands of lances traveling south.
"Three full armies worth of veteran and noble unicorns that died after the Lunar-Solar War and are too prissy to help!"
>Tossing the mythril box down, the Korean woman lifts her right combat boot above and screams at it, curiously in Common rather than her home language.
"I slept with your Princess so I could have a deterrent in case we might all get wiped out, so right now is the perfect time for all of you to not fuck us in the ass! I'll break this lid and kill every single one of you if it's the last action I take!"
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <E.Intimidation
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4]
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5]
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <E.Assault: Hold
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6]
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8]
[1d6 = 5] <Reaction

('I care not what enemies there are. Shortly I will breathe the first unfiltered air of my home world. If what you face should not obey my words.. they too shall die.')
>Receiving no further response from Broken Hoof, the marental link dies in a blur of chaotic arcane sounds-
>That felt exactly like what Anti produced at close range
>Ears raised and swiveling in a short 'thank you' motion, Krinza turns to focus his attention back onto kinetic launching another tungsten lance from his ponial access gateway into the charging Assault Divisions.
('Move to Bren's barricade with the rest of Razorback, Chargers can make use of that space more effectively.. and they are quite eager to swarm the first ranks.')
>Setting distance and angle for degree of travel, the M32 barely taps against your armored shoulder four times in a row, canisters making that familiar whump-whistling noise.
>Scarcely five seconds later, barely visible explosions spread amongst the Complete Tainted's first three lines.
>The Lost Legions: 89,383 Morale.

>Snapping apart in your hand, the disc is replaced by a familiar armored steel hardcase landing in front of you, the top opened to show a screen displaying local topography, a stock keyboard underneath that looked a bit sun burnt, and a long range collapsing rod antennae.
>Crackling into electronic life on the top left a small window opens to deliver an aperture lens stream in progress, angled far down and partially left towards the Basin from a distant location.
>The backdrop of a massive translocation gateway holds steady at a short distance out from Basin Village, an impression of a dull silver vessel emitted through, and likewise giant gold armored pegasi angling towards what must be the Hail of Glory.
>The image drops several hundred feet before stabilizing and tracking west, a new window in the bottom right flashing widespread, albeit fairly minimal, combat damage.
>On center screen the readout was displaying 10 of AGM-114 K's were available out of 12, though only 4 GBU-12's of 6 were stocked, and 2 of 3 GBU-38's were equipped.
>Definitely bigger, badder, and better armed than an original, but somewhat damaged.
Just an avid reader lurking the Dark Horse.
Basin Village: The Lost Legions, Post #3/4
GM Strangler
353068 353078
>Dipping down and feeling spinning blades overhead, the Kiowa's frame responds with familiar piloting stick control, engine humming at full pitch.
>Dragging back into a hover directly over Basin Village's southern hostels, depressing the forward trigger and sharply market primary pod button fills the air ahead of you with a short burst of rocket engine glare, from the left a heavy burst of .50 caliber slugs stream downwards.
>Eight explosions splash across a wide cone of Assault Division Tainted, shrapnel ripping off pieces of hardened corporeality while the minute amount of half inch shells rain down, into, then through multiple rows.
>The Lost Legions: 81,698 Morale.

>Hearing amused keks from multiple young batmares, both massively overeager Destroyer battalions tear away from the overherd to streak after the designated targets.
('First one to die wins!')
('Last one to die wins more!')
('Keep your armor on tight mares!')
('Oh Great Mango in the Sky we're gonna raid you so good and hard!')
[1d6+13 = (2+13) = 15] <Destroyer Battalion 1
[1d6+13 = (6+13) = 19] <Destroyer Battalion 2

>Left helmet screen lighting up with a condensed overview of the battlefield, the Assault Division's Complete Tainted ahead and below separate into single units:
>Spread throughout the Lunar Assault Divisions are eight Generals, one directly center, three left, and four right, making themselves much harder to identify or point out as they rapidly swapped places with other Tainted
>The two Solar Assault Divisions were directly behind the Lunars: a General off center left at 214 degrees and another off right at 171 degrees, performing the same mareneuvers except at a slower pace.

>Entering realspace from a boiling steam cloud directly right and ahead of the Kiowa holding station, the 100M long, 33M wide bright silver Harpy vessel emits an amused whistling-chirp, her hull speaking across most bandwidths and through air.
*"Two-point-three seconds afore ye began tae ask, giver of mercy. Ye below cover thine ears! Mine weapons built from tech-magics made for use in Endless Oceans Above be not calculated for use of worlds below!"*
>Now that you could get a good look at it, Guillotine was more of a heavy cruiser approaching pocket battleship designs: starting with a thin, massively reinforced axe-head prow, widening to the center in a sharp, high angled V-keel, then drifting back to a thin stern covered in orange pockmarks which were bubbling in repair.
>Prow gleaming incandescent white, mass numbers of small tubes open to face forwards immediately behind, a pair of sleek black lances rolling sideways from the vessel's center in an oily motion on short rigid pylons, followed by small pods of what were most definitely half-dome point defense blisters raising across the completely flat top deck.
>Where human exoatmospheric vessels were built to fulfill limited functions, Guillotine had purposefully designed herself to breach enemy vessels and unload troops in a coldly logical counter to Rift Construct Landers.
>The Light War Destroyer swivels left and down with zero friction, visibly bending outwards in place-
>A colossal bloom of white in the shape of an axehead streaks from the prow followed by the unmistakable cracks of atomic disintegrations from lance tips directly to Tainted, hails of white-blue plasma bolts rapidly shrieking through realspace, small black tinged arcs of near-lightning rippling in staccato, then minute pinpricks of searing Cherenkov blue streaking left and right towards the Airstrike and Air Commarend Divisions.
*"Guillotine recalls granting mercy ungiven, find peace within ye Rites tae rest everlong!!"*
>Guillotine, Pristine Light War Destroyer/Assault Breacher: 2,359/3,000 Armor
[1d6+23 = (6+23) = 29] <Primary Pulsar Array
[1d6+24 = (4+24) = 28] <Twin Molecular-Disruption Lances
[1d6+17 = (6+17) = 23] <Mass Plasma Driver Array
[1d6+16 = (5+16) = 21] <Secondary Tech-Arcane Weaponry
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] <Tertiary Tech-Arcane Weaponry Repairs
[1d6+14 = (6+14) = 20] <Tech-Arcane Point Defense Weapons
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <Accuracy Calculations
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] <Assault Vector Settings
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7] <Optimal Range Settings
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <Otherworld Harpy Anti-Ground Tactics
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <Stabilizing Realspace Thrusters
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18] <Pristine Tech-Arcane Repair Systems
[1d6+15 = (5+15) = 20]
[1d6+15 = (4+15) = 19]
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18]
[1d6+15 = (4+15) = 19]
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18]
Basin Village: The Lost Legions, Post #4/4
GM Strangler
353068 353078
>Hearing a loud, derisive peal of earth mare laughter behind you, Vestal Gardenia's harsh marental voice silences the multi-overherd.
('The Otherworld alicorn that called herself Silver ceased to exist after one of Razorback's finest went to Stalliongrad on a rescue mission that I signed off for! He was only supposed to take those mares that had the highest chance of producing a Primal Psion and deliver them to Luna's Villages, but no! Dante royally fucked that up by taking an entire dose of Heartflame elixir and proceeded to summon most of her Seasons damned descendants out of the city leading to a direct conflict with the Watch Guard and some witherstabbing Councilierge! I don't care what happened to those fools, they deserved to die but all those deaths woke up the millions of fucking Undead below Stalliongrad! An hour ago five Support Striker Companeighs that I trained broke into the Canterlot Archive and retrieved a Solar Prince title for him, which is the rotten cherry on top of my already ruined cake! Oh but there is some GOOD news: nearly five armies of Lunarite Collectives woke up and are doing their best to destroy or pacify the actual millions of Unceasing Dead that've been woken up!')
('Vestal, now is NOT the ti-')
('SHUT UP OR I'M GOING TO TURN YOU OVER FOR BREAKING SIX THOUSAND SOME TREATIES! Here's a real question: what would YOU do in the position of an Emperor-in-exile that realizes over ninety-five percent of your descendants said buck tradition, we're going to do what we want so buck off, oh and we're going to mock you remorselessly for all the arrogant shit you've done, would you want to continue living? I'd drop a meteor on that worthless horse and everything she's done if I could, she deserved much worse but I'll take any satisfaction I can get right now!')

>Finding yourself mixed in with mostly Agents and Specialists, not one of them paid more than a split-second's worth of attention at your new appendages, the first calls for magazine changes ring out as Assault Division Tainted come into direct view south of Basin Village.
>Those with shorter ranged weapons, primarily submachine guns, shotguns, and heavy revolvers begin to steady their aim on the barricade, preparing to unload at optimal range, mostly Elites snapping at the news.
"Ethereals coming HERE!?"
"Fuck's sakes, what else do we have to put up with tonight?"
"If those Ethereal whatevers scratches one of us we're taking it apart, allied with Cadence or not!"
"Keep calm and clear your sight lines, don't aim below eye level because if one of you hits a pony then I'm going to frag you myself!"
('....I do not like that news, but I acknowledge it.')
('I second that human stallion's words: if it so much as looks at a single one of you wrong then we're going to shred it and use the pieces for new mirrors!')

>Sighting in on the legs of the front Lunar Assault Division earth pony Tainted, the rippling false-armor each 'wore' was nothing more than decoration given the concentrated fire that hadn't slowed or crippled a single one of them yet.
>Three comforting thumps rock into your right shoulder, holding against the recoil solidly as the trio of Livermorium slugs pass well overhead of ponies below Razorback's barricade, the first arcing down low, the second higher and passing into the first Complete Tainted ranks.
>The Lost Legions: 81,228 Morale.

>Unhindered by damage to their collective willpower, the Lunar and Solar Guardians seemed entirely resolute.
[1d1600+800 = (645+800) = 1445] <8x Lunar Guardian Assault Generals
[1d400+200 = (108+200) = 308] <2x Solar Guardian Assault Generals
[1d100+50 = (84+50) = 134] <1x Lunar Guardian Airstrike Captain
[1d100+50 = (66+50) = 116] <1x Solar Guardian Air Commarend Captain
[1d400+200 = (249+200) = 449] <4x Solar Guardian Support Captains

>Even the immarense pressure from Aegis Ignis Faen siphoning away hot blue Airstreams from the Air Commarend Division was barely slowing their progress.
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <Airstreams: Subvert Control
Welcome to the Filly Zone.
Sunny Feathers

>Sunny resolutely ignored Gardenia's contempt, her disruptive interjections were beginning to grate.
>The card disintegrated and nothing happened. Sunny's ears fell despairingly.
"...I guess I deserve that."

('Summoning failed.')

>Turning to look at Mercy, who was still trying to get to their position, she nodded, assenting to the translocation. There was nothing more she could do here.

('Understood. Do it.')

>Mercy seemed calmer at least, that was a good sign.
>She shot one last withering look at the box, but otherwise didn't comment. If they didn't help, whatever long lost valour and respect they'd earned would be void, that would be their choice.


>Entirely tired of the ceaseless ranting of the Watch Guard General's counterpart, Sunny mentally spoke in a carefully measured and dispassionate tone directly to her.

('Vestal Gardenia. As important as this information is, your ceaseless ranting is serving as nothing more than a distraction at a very bad time. I'm going to politely ask you to find your discipline and clear the overherd of your stream of consciousness before it gets anypony killed. Whatever you feel you have to vent about, you can do it afterwards if any of us are still alive to hear it.')
The L.O.N.T
Master Aligned Valor: +8 for 2 turns to combat, +1 to movement
Master M.o.S: +2 for 3 turns to combat, adds two extra rolls for combat

>Lont watched as everything was hurled at the Tainted. Everything everyone could muster, humans and ponies alike. Even ponies from across Tallus chipped in. It was not enough though, the Tainted continued to barrel down on their position. And when that happened they will all die. He will die, Razorback might even die here too let alone the thousands of ponies from so many factions whom have sworn to fight to the last mare.
>What a clusterfuck.
>He began searching for his Wish Disc. He froze for a moment however as he heard on the Overherd something about Sharonel, he did not respond. This was not the place nor time to start bickering about such trivialities such as history.

>He chortled at seeing the devastation Clem wrought onto the Tainted with the helicopter, yes it did not slow them down one bit but it certainly visually mauled them.
>The Guillotine appeared in the sky. Lont whipped his head up and looked upon it with awe behind his helmet. Wings flickering. He has seen similar things cruising in the Lake Seas back home, but they never flew!
"That should help."
>He muttered in astonishment.

>With effort, Lont slowly drew his attention away from the Harpy vessel in the sky to gaze down at the ponies below the barricade he stood upon. He did not fully turn his body to face them but rather looked over his shoulder, the obstructing wing shuddering out of the way.
>He said nothing. He silently glared down at them from his enclosed barbute as he listened to Vestal.
>He did not answer her (probably) rhetorical question, instead he glared for a moment longer before returning his attention to the onrushing Tainted.
>In one hand he had found and was holding onto his Wish Disc and cradled in the nook of his arm was his Spiker.

>Lont sighed wearily, something that was drowned out by massed human gunfire, magical discharge and non-Overherd chatter.
>Lucky was dead, Tacit was out cold.
>Silver was gone. She did something as close to an actual death as an immortal god could he wagered. There goes his plan with helping Tacit. He felt sorrow for her, despite being a Psion.
>Dante messed up big time so hard he would need a whole day to digest what happened.
>Princess Luna's faction got mauled by Constructs, meanwhile the Solar faction is at war with SOMETHING.
>Dragons were fighting a giant Construct too, which was something of note.
>And to top it off there were still problems happening in the Empire, he was too hasty to leave. While he was hitting on Shattered Glacier and some Conclave Chefs there were Empire ponies dying.
>Still dying.
>To top it all off, here he was now. Staring down an army of giant Tainted forms about to snuff out all life in the Basin Village with Constructs on the way as well because why not..
"What a night."
>Lont said, aggravated and progressively becoming more and more done with this shit.

"All of you, silence."
>He told the whining Operators around him, and did not bother responding on the Overherd.

>But before the Constructs, the Tainted needed dealing with. Lont brought the Wish Disc close to his helm and stared down the charging Lunar Tainted.
"Rime, I want as much as this wish can give me. Turn it into a storm that will blow away the Lunar Assault Division charging down onto my position. I want them to...chill out."
[1d6 = 2] >Wish Disc
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] >U.Punmancy

>Wish done he shouldered Spiker again, this time seeing if he could spot any targets that looked important. Turning on his thermal vision too he hoped he'd see something interesting to plug a few slugs into.
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] >E.Perception +Primal Leadership
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] >Thermal
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]

[1d6+7 = (3+7) = 10] >E.Combat Shotgun +P.L
[1d6+7 = (3+7) = 10]
[1d6+7 = (5+7) = 12]
The L.O.N.T
[1d6 = 5] >Wish Disc
Bubba the Second
"I would be shocked if they didn't fucking know about the effects until later on."
>Bubba pressed his lips together in brief thought.
"It could've been both. Just using the former excuse to cover up and divert from the proper reason."
>He'd scowl a bit as well.
"And this was the better option. Hodch letting this shit out would've brought even more onto Razorback."
>At the mention of Linara and Stalliongrad, Bubba let out a hum.
"Dante's also been there for roughly five hours, with no report back yet. That means a few different things, and I don't exactly know which is worse."
>It would be a good idea to check on him when possible. Just to make sure he wasn't killed... Or lewded to death.
"Well, I'm not exactly doing too much sitting on my ass here in the Pagoda, and I'm not currently needed elsewhere. Why the hell not?"
>He got up with a groan, patting himself down to ensure he had everything he needed, or wanted, on his person.