To the team’s credit, there didn’t seem to be much opposition to the proposal of burying the Husks rather than heroically become victims of a synthetic cannibal horde. There was a hasty effort to assist Salissa’s barrier with energy pylons, but that was going to go about as well as sticking a wad of used chewing gum into a dam breach and hope it would hold back several thousand tonnes of water. Sure enough, she was forced to retreat with the assistance of Skarr’s charity as a pack mule and the wave of mealy-mouthed bastards resumed. The brief window of opportunity at least gave Rykarn a chance to stock up on thermal clips and reload the grenade launcher, which was getting unsettlingly low on heavy munitions. Over the comms, the krogan heard Ja’Far counting his kills.
Thumbing his comm link, Rykarn interjected. ”Counting, really? You’re going to lose count before they pick the skin from your bones. Besides, I’m at forty by now, at least.” he said, arching his grenade launcher at the cluster that had been clawing at the barrier. There wouldn’t be a better shot. The heavy weapon recoiled heavily in Rykarn’s hands and the high-explosive projectile sailed through the air in a spiraling arc, landing squarely in the chest of the first Husk in the charging wall, knocking it back and detonating before the creature hit the ground. Flames and shrapnel expanded outwards violently, immediately dismembering a large group of them within a few meter radius to the point of “killing” them, and crippling several more that persistently kept trying to come despite most of their bodies ceasing function. Another shot had a similar result, and normally it would have been enough to turn the tide of battle, but right now, Rykarn was feeling very much so like that piece of chewing gum heroically trying to stop fate.
And I still have a free drink on my tab. What a time to remember that. he thought, switching to his Striker again when he noticed a scientist being wrangled up with biotic pull. Vella had attempted to prevent an escape, but unfortunately was set upon by Husks immediately. They were running out of time; the more time they spent picking the ones off themselves, ten more would take their place. They had perhaps minutes left, and the asari managed to free herself of her aggressors, letting Rykarn focus on what was important.
Getting that damn tunnel collapsed. Anderson agreed, anyways; the order was more or less given to destroy the tunnel. Suited the krogan fine, in any case.
”Get clear! I’m bringing the roof down!” Rykarn bellowed, grabbing a Hornet with one hand and his Striker in the other, charging forward to get a better shot at the placed mines; he’d need to get a clear shot, otherwise he ran the risk of breaking the mines free with chunks of rubble without detonating them properly. A few of the vanguard Husks that were getting through the heavy crossfire rushed him, the first was swatted aside with the heavy assault rifle and the second was brought down with a burst of submachine-gun fire, the hard-hitting Cerberus arm doing respectable damage to the thing’s chest, blowing viscous grey-blue fluid out through a serious of exit wounds as the lights literally vanished from the Husk’s eyes. Rykarn barely registered this, continuing on as his blood rage built, his vision starting to blur and his hands shaking as the need to kill and brutalize his enemies began to make his blood boil. The krogan had to try and keep this under control; he’d mess the shot up if he couldn’t hold his gun still. He emptied the Hornet carelessly against a few more Husks, his trigger control more or less becoming a thing of thirty seconds ago, killing three more of the monsters as a forth broke through to an over-heated firearm. Not bothering with finess, Rykarn punched the Husk in the face with the weapon so forcefully that it punctured the skull, splitting the face in two as the barrel got buried at least five inches in the skull. He roared defiantly at the rest of the Husks, grabbing one by the face and slamming it into another. This was getting stupid; krogan charges tended to work as a psychological weapon of unstoppable might when your enemies were capable of feeling fear, or well, anything, Rykarn was more or less just making their meal come to them.
”I’LL TEAR YOU ALL APART, YOU PYJAK SHITS!” he bellowed, barely registering his shield capacitors being worn down by the swarm that was now forming around him. Crushing a few more with the heavy Striker’s butt and barrel, his primal instinct to utterly eviscerate his enemies starting to override his rational thinking, which he had to pull himself back from.
”Focus, you idiot!” he rebuked himself, breaking free from the encirclement a few meters, not buying himself much space, but enough that he had a clear shot of the Cain mines mounted. A Husk jumped on his back, trying to pry at his helmet.
[I]Just a couple shots. Do it. He thought, breaking through his rage just enough to put the mines in focus. Shouldering the weapon and taking an aimed shot, the head’s up display in his visor linked to where the barrel was pointing, and lining up with the centermost mine, to the right, he took the shot.
A great explosion filled the tunnel, the deafening thunder of collapsing foundation and stone more than a bit reminiscent of a building being brought down, and dust immediately flooded the area; Rykarn knew anyone without a full helmet were going to be regretting that decision as soon as they were breathing dry dust by the lungful. Reaching up and grabbing the Husk by the neck off his back, Rykarn ripped the thing from his heavy frame and threw it to the ground forcefully, stomping its head with a massive boot, popping the humanoid skull like an overripe melon. He knew that his armour was going to smell like shit when he went to clean it. Turning to face the onslaught of Husks that had unfinished business with him, Rykarn opened fire at near blank range, the cryo-imbued munitions breaking many of them into frozen chunks of putrid meat. Among the creatures emerging from the dust cloud was a Cannibal, the hideous amalgamation of batarian and human bodies. It would have to do. There was still half of the mines left to detonate.
Charging the Cannibal as it open fire at Rykarn, the krogan grabbed the thing and kept running, using its bulk to force his way through a crowd of Husks to get a clearer shot at the remaining mines, now largely concealed by dust. At this point, he would be aiming at very dim lights through the particulates, which was less than ideal. Throwing the thing off of him, his shoulder plate now soaked with saliva and the finish tarnished by teeth of the thing trying to chew through it to get to him, Rykarn took aim at the first blinking light he saw and opened fire at it, and towards either side where he’d recalled the other mines were vaguely laid out. The explosion went off as hoped, but it was uncertain if it caused a total collapse.
Given that there were now three Husks clawing at him and his shields failing, the krogan had more pressing concerns. Pulling the Talon from his hip, Rykarn tried to make his way back to friendly lines, shooting one off of his lower torso, and smashing at the second with the butt of the pistol to hopefully cave its skull in. The friendly IFF markers were the only orientation he had making his way forward, and suddenly his armour shuttered; the shield capacitor gave out. The Husks had breached the barrier.
With urgent haste, Rykarn stopped moving to clear his body of the Husks, flailing against the damned things with all of his might, breaking bones and still dealing with their claws digging in between his joints, digging into his under suit. He managed to grab one by the leg, pulling it hard enough the leg came free but the Husk was still perched on him stubbornly. Still pulling his way towards his team like a stubborn quarterback in a Clawball game that refused to be tackled, the krogan smacked away oncoming Husks with the dismembered leg, needing to get to safety before he could deal with the damn things working their way through his armour.
Auz
Spoopy Scary
Baklava
Silverwind Blade