Driven by pure murderous instinct; a puppet with the rabid intensity of a diseased hound, the gundrone was now a burning waste-pile that glared as it charged. Flames erupted out of the gaping wounds gouged by the Sect troopers, its own machine gun collapsed into the raging inferno slowly warping the weapon from the bottom up and rendering it a useless chunk. Vat-flesh bonded to composite metal was beginning to peel from its dense body across its flap-like arms, down its dense legs, as it began to turn a meaty charred brown, ignoring Vin as its unztadtlige handler shot it forward in a murderous charge.

Even the soldiers in the park could detect the sparking voidhanger as electrical readings combined with residual energy from the plasma burst lit him up but they weren’t paying that much attention to him. The huge hulk of a human in his armoured suit charged with ferocity equal to the bioconstruct, smashing into the construct with bone-shattering force. In its frenzied, dysfunctional state the machine stumbled forward, crashing against the burnt-out husk of a civilian truck and crushing the wrecked vehicle’s cargo component inwards – its own sheer momentum made it stumble faster than its internal balancing calibrators, currently melting, could correct. 
A gout of flame vomited out of its wound, barely even singing Paris’ armour, as sparks began to crackled inside of it. Pops at first then flashes of light with harsh snapping sounds – its own rounds were starting to detonate as the vicious flames from Corsica’s weapon. The tubular gaze from the flaming tunnel glowered with more anger than its two eye stalks – one really, one of the detonating rounds had sliced another clean open as vaporizing regulative fluid wafted out of the wound and its shuddering flap arms pulled against the vehicle it had been cratered into. 

Their stand-off was interrupted by an enormous glob of plasma, slamming into the ground behind where Paris had imagined, momentarily blocking Zsresrinn’s sight with a huge blossom of raging power. The blast of blue and white desecrated tortured metal, sending melting fragmentation spitting outwards before a wave of heat and force. Windows shattered and loose components flew outwards, scattering before the two like leaves in autumnal winds. The force was far more ruthless, shoving against Paris’ shield as if to usher him towards his doom. 

The bio-machine’s controller had no such reservations about preserving the weapon. If it could at least take one of them, that was enough. With a tortured creak the nearly destroyed machine pulled its body out of the truck and staggered towards Paris with a drunkard’s urgence and imbalance. More sparking crackles and bolts of white shooting outwards like blips of light from its body – its unspent ammunition set off by the extreme heat. Loud beeping – the machine’s warning signals were going off as it lunged towards Paris, one arm flap simply falling off from the melting heat, its remaining eye peeling off of its limb, and from within its body, Paris could see the boxy magazines of its ammo starting to go white.

Just before it could make it to the halfway point, a scourging beam of light slammed into its body, melting off one of its flap arms and causing the machine to awkwardly stumble and stagger. It writhed and jerked, its electronics and control mechanisms sent into overdrive as the combined heat from the vrexul’s energy weapon rapidly melting its internal body and setting off the volatile munitions within.

In a blast of flame and heat, the machine’s body finally exploded. A storm of white spark-like bullets flew outwards in a deadly shrapnel like spray. It was but a fraction of the speed if they had been launched from its now shattered heavy machine gun but its devastation was clear. Vehicle husks shuddered and shook, car doors fell off, supporting components shattered and a few vehicles not already devastated by the mortar bombardment slumped with heavy thuds to the ground. 

The final last-ditch effort of their assailants had been in vain but there was little time to breathe.

The soldiers at the park quickly lowered their guns, gesturing for the whole squad to join them. A few of them paused to watch Zsresrinn closely – one of them held what looked like a missile launcher but he paused when Silver made it in first. A few of them paused, looking almost ready to raise their weapons at Corsica – her heat signatures were off of the charts. It was clear that the bizarre mishmashed squadron was still a sight to many of them. Troopers further back were starting to move back to the APC’s as ominous frothing growls and shrieks, likely celaderaka mixed with tarrhaidim, called out over the sound of melting metal and stomping boots off in the distance. Whomever was hunting them was angry. 

One of the soldiers stood a foot taller than the others – their armour made them featureless, beyond the light black overlapping ridges over a mixture of light and dark greys comprising a more flexible under armour. Larger wrist guards that featured fang-like tips sat on their wrists and a cape was visible around their waist, likely some sort of shielding for hidden thrusters of some sort. Their ridged helmet was imposing as they loomed before Silver, still dwarfed by Zsresrinn as he motioned for them to follow him as he walked towards the parked vehicles.


[center][hider=NPC leader reference image]
[img]https://i.ibb.co/8Dh34dc/heng-z-xxn011-xl.jpg[/img]
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[color=f7941d]
“Yirilovan Selekawael, loyalist to the bone.” [/color]The armoured figure called out, motioning to the rest of the Sect team to start boarding. “[color=f7941d]Captain within the Regime, Fortress Kerovnia just a few hours from here. Your leaders told us nothing about a hot landing when we were recruited for assistance. As far as the tasahnial* are concerned, our truce with them holds – they are not aware we crept in just under their noses. Hence the jammers – as far as they are concerned, this is a dead zone too close to our lines for them to near.”[/color]

He turned to look down the road, pausing as whatever scanning systems on his armour analysed the particulars of the situation.

[color=f7941d]“That group that ambushed you – they’re bottom feeding nobodies. Nobodies under the Carnazir, another misguided group of miscreants absorbed by the traitor-armies. The Kerovnian Separatist Alliance – failures before the war, failures lapping up the offal dropped their way by the benefactors.”[/color]

Already the APC’s were moving – turning away from the gate and towards a wall or rather, the crumbled powdery ruins of one. A few troops moved into the hefty troop storage components.

[color=f7941d]“They are however, failures with a direct line to the enforcers the Carnazir use to ensure party line and loyalty is well practiced here. They have been itching for an excuse to take our territory – and your friends, the hulking human I presume and the last motion signature out on the road, better get here faster unless he wants to shatter even the tattered illusion of peace we have now.”[/color]
One of the APC’s had moved towards the gate, rumbling down the road as it turned to open its door to them. Its turret swivelled tracking motion through the trees – no visual contact but it was clear they were cutting it close. Distantly, something could be heard stomping about in the woods and in its wake, trees could be heard tumbling to the ground. The troops inside wildly gestured at Paris and Vin – it was clear they were almost on borrowed time now.

[color=f7941d]“Once they get in, we’re hitting the jammer and blinding them. We’ve done it before; we’re a sneaky bunch when we want to be. With how things have gone south, we’re going to take you the other rendez-vous point. It’s clear by helping you, we might be targeted now as well.” [/color]Yrilovan concluded, jogging towards one of the APC’s – one that the Sect squad would notice had a rather unusual electrical signature, as if it was covered in a field of static. 

The crunching of trees in the distance continued. 


[hider=Footnotes]
*Derogatory term in central celaderakan translating to “soil shitter”, typically as a slur against lower class people believed to have been tricked into joining guerilla and insurgent groups due to low intelligence.
[/hider]