[center][color=662d91][h1]Cian Flynn - Ebos[/h1][/color][/center]

When Cian was a teenager first setting out on the blood-splattered road he walked, simply thinking about the hurt he was about to cause, even the night before laying in bed, was enough to get a horrid sickly feeling in his stomach. It would get so bad he’d think he was about to vomit and would have to sit up in bed all night, his thoughts running a thousand miles an hour going through every possible scenario, making sleep a distant dream.

After his first murder he’d gone home, went up to the bedroom he’d shared with Violet, Sean, Michael and Sophie for all his life and sat down on the floor, his back against the hard metal frame of one of the bunk beds. He wasn’t sure what time he’d gotten in that night but when Sophie woke up for school the next morning he was still sitting there, eyes wide and staring at blood stains on the wall. Blood that had come from his hands two weeks previously, when he’d taken the rage and sorrow of Michael’s death out on the inanimate.

Sophie had insisted on staying home from school that day. She made him soup and forced him to watch early morning cartoons with her, such ones that had been his favorite before he’d grown older and too hard and stupid to appreciate the time spent cuddeled up with his younger siblings. Sophie was only a few years younger than him but she felt so incredibly tiny and delicate nestled under his arm. He looked down at her with a gentle smile on his face and apologized for not doing this with her in recent times. She in return beamed up at him, adding a trace amount of sarcasm to her voice as she said he was forgiven and that he was still probably one of the best big brothers in London. 

For some reason the thought flashed across his mind of the boy he’d murdered the previous night being in the exact same scenario, with his adoring little sibling staring up at him. The gentleness of his smile must have vanished because next Sophie asked if he was okay, her voice soft and worried. The last thing in the entirety of the universe he would do was allow this little angel to witness the mental break of yet another parental figure. With substantial effort he swallowed down the lump in his throat, hardened his threatening to water eyes and slowly nodded, playfully squeezing her cheek as he killed a part of himself.

—

Cian knew himself well enough to know he had a tendency to get somewhat melancholic before he had to kill. A shadow of the little good he once had in him, he reckoned. Shaking his head free of old memories he focused on switching the ammo blocks on his weapons. His rifle, shotgun and pistol would all benefit from armor-piercing ability in this fight. Finally looking up, he ignored the small arms fire on the shuttle and addressed the small combat squad.

[color=662d91]“Standard Cerberus units favor heavy armor and typical small unit squad tactics. Do what you can to panic them and break up dug in clusters and they’ll be much less effective… That means biotics, grenades and anything unconventional you can do effectively without too much risk. If you’re a sharp shot, kill what assault captains and centurions you see first. That’ll fuck up unit cohesion and impede their ability to advance… Otherwise, same as any other fight. Stick to cover and don’t get too cocky. These pricks tend to be good shots.”[/color]

Cian stowed his shotgun on his back and his pistol on his hip, keeping his rifle in his arms as they lowered down to the landing zone. It was time to see if this rag tag group had any fire in them or if this would be another bloodbath where he’d barely get out with his own ass.

The shuttle door slid open and he was quickly out after the others, his M-96 Mattock already barking off rounds and sending slugs into the faceplates of a CENTURION and an engineer as he moved into the first bit of cover he saw. He quickly removed a grenade from his belt and lobbed it across to a small squad of enemies. Popping up as they scattered away from it he continued to move up, shooting another soldier twice in the chest and once in the head before the grenade detonated and sent the others flying. He shot those still alive, squirming on the ground before once again ducking into cover.

Not far to his right the Turian and Quarian were busying themselves fucking shit up in the best possible way. They weren’t exactly perfectly synchronized and strategic like most professional units, but no one could deny the effect their unorthodox methods were having on the enemy force. At one point Cian raised up to blast a mech and watched as the Quarian, Roxy took it out in close quarters melee. The sight was such that he had to remind himself to duck back into cover before he got shot. The Turian's style reminded Cian a lot of his own, which for someone as sure of his own abilities and competence as he'd become over the years was a pretty high complement. 

The surprises didn’t stop there either. Even as he watched he couldn’t quite believe for a few seconds that the somewhat willowy looking doctor was such a powerful biotic, even mouthing the words [color=662d91]“What the fuck.”[/color] as the shuttle slid forward.

Not one to waste such an opportunity, Cian burst out of cover and ran along behind the sliding shuttle, using its large frame as cover as he snapped out and shot retreating or semi-crushed enemies and mechs, stopping to duck as it crashed through the hallway and finally came to a stop. He slowly came to a stand, scanning for movement ahead. It seemed for now though that everything was still, at least on the LZ and the hallway.

[color=662d91]“That was some good thinking, doc. We grunts generally don’t train to dodge shuttles… Very unconventional, very effective.”[/color] Cian complimented, struggling to keep himself from chuckling at such an unexpected end to this part of the fight.

[color=662d91]“Let’s all keep up this speed and aggression and maybe we’ll make it out of here with a minute or two to spare…” Cian looked ahead through the hallway and into the dome. “Looks a lot less narrow in there, but the same rules apply. Cover each other with cross-fire, biotics, whatever you’ve got. We’re kicking ass, let’s keep to this standard.”[/color]