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They kept coming like an endless wave, a ravenous swarm of screeching mouths, ready to tear them apart. They walked without grace, without sense, they had no purpose. It was apathy to the highest degree, the dead eyes that stare at you while they rip you apart, the lack of emotion. There was no hate, no anger, no emotion. Their actions were completely detached from the killing, no hesitation, it was techno-barbarism at its finest. It was disgusting, an offence to everything the Divines stood for. The Pillars stood for suffering, salvation through fire, the renouncing of luxury and happiness to make a stronger, better and cynical but kind being. These creatures had no such agony, pain or sorrow. No love, no kindness. It was an affront to everything he stood for, everything [i]she[/i] stood for. It was a slow, bubbling anger that stirred within and he quelled it with another shot. The three rounds struck a Marauder in the head, turning it into a bloody pulp before embedding themselves into the abdomen of a husk behind it. [color=olive][b]"Five.[/b][/color]

Blood, or a mockery of it, and limbs flew everywhere, Katabasis was shredding dozens of husks. But Ja'Far could tell that they were struggling, they were slowly retreating and line was already broken. Even in his position, there were husks amongst them. He had noticed the scientists escaping but couldn't do anything to them, they were running and he couldn't risk civilian casualties. A little fidget or mistake could have killed one of them if he tried lining up the shot, and so he let them go. The husks swarmed each team member, each person involved in some sort of close combat. As he shot another two husks dead as they ran towards him, muttering a small [color=olive][b]"Seven, still ahead of you Phalanx"[/b][/color], he worriedly noted how the swarm was coming towards him. 

This was just like the shithole his old team had their last stand in, every member for themselves in close quarters combat. There wasn't any cohesion to the battle, it was a mess of both ally and enemy packed together in one space. The team couldn't work together because of the mass of enemy bodies. The horde was isolating most of the members of the team, keeping them in pairs or on their lonesome. It made him shiver, memories of three terrorising days of constant fighting came back to him. He wasn't prepared for this, he had a rifle that he had barely fought with! 

The Boogeyman shook his head, clearing it of such thoughts with a couple of deep breaths as more husks approached. He let another three rounds loose, disabling a couple of husks before swapping to his pistol, holding his knife in the other hand. This was no time for regret, for what-ifs or might-haves. This was the present, he was living this situation and there was no changing that. He had been trained for this, decades of fighting for a country that relished in brutality taught him a few tips about close combat. It certainly wasn't his expertise and he didn't have the destructive power that others of the team had but he was a Legionnaire. 

The best of the best that the Hegemony could offer, even Special Operations had trouble keeping up with them. Thirty survivors was left, from the five thousand initially chosen for the 1[sup]st[/sup] Legion, at the start of the Reaper War. They had been trained for this, prepared for missions where they would most likely die and [i]he[/i] had survived. They all lived through him and he wouldn't die here. He was a living boogeyman, his targets quivered in their boots when they heard his name. He was known to all Batarians, young and old, poor and rich, seen as a shadowy figure in the night. His name brought fear to the mansions and hope to the slums, he was and still is the premier soldier.

Ja'Far started praying again, turning off his radio to keep the clutter to a minimum. He raised his pistol at the nearest husk and squeezed the trigger, piercing the skull and killing the thing. Blood and brain matter came all over him but he continued, aiming at another husk and let another round loose. He was a dead-eyed shot, calmly switching targets as he felled everything he laid his sights on. [color=olive][b]"Praise be to thou, O Athame, and all praises are due unto thou, and blessed is thy name and high is thine grace and none is worthy of worship but thine eternal glory."[/b][/color] He whispered quietly as a Cannibal lunged at him as he was reloading. He quickly slammed the clip into the Carnifex. Leaning forward to brace himself, he stabbed the beast in the abdomen before using the serrated blade to throw the thing to his side. Pulling the knife as he let go and brought up his gun, double-tapping the bloodied mess once it hit the ground.

Another husk leapt unto his back, clawing at his shoulders. His right shoulder, mostly unprotected with outdated material armour, was bruised badly but his left examined unscathed. Ja'Far snarled, bending forward with enough power to force the husk to the ground in front of him before slamming his boot down on it's head. A Marauder and a pair of husks approached him from the front, the two human husks sprinting with their maws open, screeching loudly. The third husk seemed to wait, as if analysing it's enemy. He raised his pistol and fired thrice at one of the runners in the chest, sending it stumbling to the ground before switching targets. Before he could fire however, he felt another presence behind, coming up on him. 

The Boogeyman quickly spun, facing the flanking enemy, delivering a hard right-handed pistol whip on the offender. The blow sent the newfound Cannibal to the ground, making it sprawl on all-fours. During this time, the surviving human husk closed the distance and raised it's claws, letting loose an inorganic war-cry. He received several gashes on the back, making the Batarian grunt and jerk in surprise pain. Turning to face the husk as it reared it's right hand for another swing. He tried for a slice on it's throat but it blocked the strike with it's left shoulder, jumping at him to take the blow. As they fell backwards, he then ripped his knife out and brought his Carnifex to bear as his back slammed against the floor. Swearing and breaking prayer for a second, he felt a hot fire on his back as they opened wider. He fired twice from the ground at the offending husk before pushing the corpse off of him and clamouring to his feet with his pistol hand in the air, steadying himself.

This was when the Marauder, previously biding it's time in the background, chose to strike. Holding what seemed to be a sharpened piece of metal in it's right hand, it kicked Ja'Far's pistol hand, disarming him of the Carnifex before swiping at the his stomach. Leaping backwards to avoid the makeshift blade, he made for a stab at the thing's side. Surprisingly, the former-Turian blocked the blow with it's left hand and directed it past it's stomach to the left, crossing over and pulling him forward. He recoiled, steadying himself with his feet before dodging away from a downwards strike at his head. The two reached a standstill, both circling each other as the fighting went on around them, the Batarian still muttering his prayers as blood ran down his wounds.

Ja'Far lunged first, going for a upwards slice from the groin up before following with two sideways swipes. Seemingly surprised by this aggressiveness, the Marauder dodged all of the strikes instead of blocking, backing up more with each attempt. With adrenaline pumping and the momentum on his side, he went for a sudden charge, slamming his armoured shoulder into his enemy. It sent the thing to the ground and he followed up with a downwards stab down to it's neck, spraying more strange blood all over him as he twisted the knife. [color=olive][b]"The Divine Pillars look down upon thou with pride, Turian."[/b][/color] He whispered, feeling the serrated interrogator's knife cutting through flesh.

Standing up from his opponent, the former Legionnaire made for the Carnifex laying on the ground and activated communications once more. The pain from the wounds made him stagger slightly and his voice strained but kept going, pointing his pistol at another husk. Pulling the trigger three times and downing the husk in the third, he spoke into the comms [color=olive][b]"I beseech ser Giles to blow this [i]shithole[/i] to kingdom come."[/b][/color] It was entirely out of character for him, at least from the perspective of the others, but he continued with his royally dry tone. [color=olive][b]"I also prithee that we may escape this dreadful place as our line seems to be ruined. Evident from the fact that the long ranged support is engaging in [i]close quarters combat."[/i][/b][/color]

He needed an infinite supply of cigars if he was going to survive in a team filled with frontliners and half-wits. However, this fact did not discourage the smile that was evident in his speech. Ja'Far was certainly enjoying himself, this team reminded him too much of his old squad to be non-entertaining. He just hoped that he would survive the migraines and the horrid amount of wounds that would be inflicted on his body.