The Brute eventually managed to, angrily, bring itself into an intimidating and looming stand. However as before, it was again met with Cyne's rifle discharge and soon followed up by fire from Gerad and simultaneously riddled by Gaz's dakka gun. The large creature roared in defiance and willed itself forwards despite the sustaining fire brought against it. Unfortunately, its mighty efforts became in vane as mortality finally set upon it. Fear educing howls subsided to agonizing moans and the Brute fell forward, collapsing into a heap of meat, its last breath an escaping gurgle from its loose and crossed maw.

Cyne lowered his rifle, finally gifted the chance to breath normally now that the danger had passed. Surveying his new grotesque surroundings, it was hard to believe that where they stood was the bridge. Beneath them was a lake of wretched green and ichor and the husks of the fallen Hive abominations seemingly making up the new terrain. The remaining acid violently secreted by the torn Sploders reshaped the artificial walls and other sapient-made surfaces into toxic, rounded, and organic scenery. What was originally a commander center that governed the entire ship had quickly become a twisted and unnatural set of carnage.

He turned to Pathfinder and found the drone still connected to the Captain's personal terminal, likely harvesting any data it could capture at the Captain's authority level, the highest level of secure data that could be breached. Given the situation they stumbled in, the actual highest level of information was trapped in the depths of the R&D deck and that place was no longer their problem. With seemingly everything they came for claimed, Cyne glanced at Pathfinder and then to Gerad whom he had spied accessed one of the other consoles.

[color=00a99d]"If everyone is not dead and doesn't need carrying, I suggest we prepare to depart and ensure the house doesn't go down until after we close the front door,"[/color] Cyne announced but didn't specifically address anyone in particular, [color=00a99d]"since the good Captain isn't here to make things easy for us, we'll have to improvise a proper scuttling."[/color]

Typically, setting the [i]Balrog[/i] to self-destruct would've been far more promising and far less of a hassle than rigging the munitions to go off. But due to intelligent ship design and systematic security procedures, simply programming the ship to explode was an option that was not on the table, not without the Captain's authentication card and approval code. Such measures were established to ensure that no one other than a captain could make the fateful decision to destroy such a vital and mobile asset.

Cyne soon continued but not before eying Gerad and Pathfinder once more, [color=00a99d]"Munitions will likely have built-in safeguards surrounding the deck to prevent internal detonations from crippling the [i]Balrog[/i] outright. We'll first need those suppression systems and structural bulkheads disengaged. For maximum effect, any maintenance shafts and ventilation routes should be exposed to our fireworks show; we need to make sure any explosive cascades that occur can reach the ship's sub-stations, so it can domino' everywhere else. We have master-control over the ship from here so let’s get this heap rigged and move out."[/color]

For awhile, he figured that while they were here, they could also manipulate the bulkheads that had auto-engaged to vent any unwelcomed obstacles out into space and perhaps even deploy more blast shields to change the available and traversable layout of the ship. The advantage could work well against the Hive but not for long against the invading mercenaries and scavengers. Once their opposition found that the [i]Balrog[/i]'s systems were being used against them, and if they were thinking on the same tactical sense that Cyne was meditating on, one of the cruisers could conduct a strike against the bridge. This not only would put them in jeopardy, but this also risked having more bulkheads engage in their path if the [i]Balrog[/i] sustained further external damage; it was a miracle the entire vessel was still marginally intact. With the situation as it was, it was better to keep the mercs' attention glued to the Hive rather than the intruders that came before them.

Once they were done, they promptly left the bridge and made their way to the lower deck. With the isolated war between the Hive and the still-arriving mercs, many of the surrounding corridors were essentially left untouched. Every few minutes, they would run into several small and isolated packs of Swarmers scouting the untouched sections of the ship. These groups quickly dispatched, due in part to the narrow hallways that bottlenecked their attempted charges, only to be ripped to bloody shreds by concentrated fire. their quick journey eventually brought them to one of the [i]Balrog[/i]'s three cafeterias that were conveniently adjacent to one another.

As with the rooms they've seen previously before restoring power, the dining facility they arrived to was in equally bad shape. Many of the tables and seats, broken or untouched, lay overturned and scattered everywhere. Trays, utensils, and a variety of other tools and debris littered the place, nearly burying the evidence of structural battle damage and smears of red that imprinted into the floor. Many of the fabrication counters and vending machines were surprisingly in good condition still and were probably able to vend edible meals and snacks if anyone were to query for them. Of course, with their run-ins still fresh in his mind, Cyne certainly didn't have the appetite. That however didn't stop him from presenting a mock offer to his comrades.

[color=00a99d]"Anyone else feelin' hungry?"[/color]

Whatever their responses where, they were soon interrupted as a large group of mercenaries, platoon sized, quickly stormed the cafeteria. Like Cyne's squad, they too surveyed the place but it didn't take long until both side found themselves staring awkwardly at one another, [color=00a99d]"Shit,"[/color] Cyne moaned as he anticipated the next phrase that was about to blurt out of the platoon leader's mouth.

[color=ed1c24]"There they are! Blast them!"[/color]

[i]Called it[/i]. Almost immediately, solid projectiles and energy bolts flew into the air, Cyne dove for one of the tipped-over table and claimed it as makeshift cover. The table was probably not even sturdy enough to absorb the incoming fire, but it nevertheless provided an extra layer in front of his wellbeing. Now that they were under fire, Cyne didn't bother to order Gerad or Gaz, especially Gaz, to return fire. It was now fight or die time against twenty-seven angry mercs before them.