Honestly with just a bit of tinkering (plus a few other things), this would not be hard to make work for the setting. Most of it works pretty easily. Have you seen the Character Sheet Outline? Would just need to figure out what her background is wrt to the lore (what faction she was with before if she even was with any of them) and for you to DM me her Actions Of Interest.
Jubilation had overtaken their allies, raging with the same intensity as the wounds blighting the flesh of realspace. Where the icons of imperial domination once stood was the bleeding pollution of ethereal distortion, tearing metal, foliage, dirt, and implant-ridden flesh alike. A hated enemy reduced to even less than the term should allow; what need did they have to even pay attention to their allies - their means to an end? Yet it had been done with their help; the revolutionaries were dogged and harsh as living under the boot of membranous and pink-fleshed frequently was, but they liked to think of themselves as a different stripe.
"Friends, friends of the Struggle! Now, those who died before us can rest with the footfall of our dancing in their ears, not the rumble of their armor!" The sound of the gealtirocht leader's hand slapping the upper back of Salvator went out with an audible clunk. The tone of stern vitriol had vanished; alien still to ears both human and post-human, but bereft of the tone that felt accusatory even if solely aimed at the occupiers.
"Our mission is finished! No need to bother with this hunk of junk. Why, maybe we can recover it for our own means, at the very least as a trophy!"
He was too focused on interrupting himself, pausing to shout and banter with his surviving friends. Many of them had taken out personal hand-phones - cheap, off-world, and just from a glance unsightly with the various modifications they'd no doubt had their own engineers install. The little clicks of their phone apps going off in sequence could barely be heard above their celebrating, the cameras like a tiny pitter-patter of clapping and applause to the cacophony of their joy.
His eyes were not following the inputting into the control panel of the artillery cannon; the way the weapon shifted and groaned barely garnered attention from the surviving insurrectionists, even as the barrel began to shift. Until, it had shifted too much and Salvator said what he said.
In the brief moment before Salvator vanished from where he once stood, he would not have required the most advanced scanners to know the way the eel-like being's features had twisted.
His comrades had turned, hearing the blink, seeing their allies suddenly falling back, and feeling, hearing, dreading the way the dots had fallen into place.
"You... all along you were-"
The cannon fired and silenced the leader's voice, a wash of ethereal power coming over them. Some had fallen onto their knees, phones dropped, watching as the same wrath that had given them historic victory now stole the taste of victory from the battlefield. The bunker, a fare more diminuitive structure than the mobile command center or repurposed stadium, was not silhouetted against the birth of a wrathful sun. Neither did the support trucks and their convoy; with the same uncaring judgement of the beyond, there was but a near-perfect inverted-dome crater.
There was no time to watch the scurrying of horrified, shocked Front forces; now tasting the same horror inflicted onto their tyrants in a cruel twist. Their weapons would speak.
Near immediately, a rail-cannon swung forth and zeroed in on the largest, heaviest target - the same one that had formed the bulwark of their advance. Rifle fire and grenades flew as readily as howling rage, too incoherent for speech as language and round flew with equal intent. A few rounds glanced the unztadtlige's armor, a few clanging against its bulk - rattling armor, but brusing rather than cracking. Semi-automatic weapons appeared to turn automatic, a torrent of blasts erupting as the traitors fell back.
A crackle over the coms; friendly, but blurred, grainy, unclear doubly so over the retaliatory barrage sent from former allies.
"-Active jamming! We can't track your location, ghost data-"
A sound like a whistle tinged first with a loud thud. Before even enhanced senses and ocular capability could detect it, two human bodies simply vanished; clouds of fizzling mist and squirming innards leaving two torsos standing. Two trees in front of the Envenomed squad's retreat simply lost massive chunks of mass around their middle; bark exploding outwards as if tinder, sending bramble and branches crashing down before them.
"-Unit! I repeat, specialist-"
One of the humans leapt out of the way, rolling away from a torrent of smoke-trails slamming in a v-shaped line. Anti-personnel rounds shred three more survivors - comrades became skeletal remains, tattered centipede-like creatures holding onto bits of bodily mass and armor, the other surviving gealtirocht a pincushion for serrated, whirring shrapnel-saws slowly powering down as if fattened on anguilline meat and juice.
The one who jumped gripped his midsection; the pain of re-attaching to the lower torso was punishing. His aim was shakey - cracking off two spiteful shots at the Envnomed, before he ducked again.
"-Bile! Can't land until-"
One last scream of anger as the same weapon that pulped the first victims fires; this close, it was a piercing report, a firecracker in the lower registers - a deep gavel pound rather than celebratory popping. The gealtirocht's voice vanished as did his body; raw physical shock from a massive automatic rifle-cannon overwhelmed reinforced armor. Turned to a footnote in history before his body even fully became a scattered mess of multicolored, moist matter and electrcuting armor fragments. The hellish spray of gunfire swept over the battlefield and the rest of the ZRF vanished behind it. No silence stilled the battlefield as dirt and debris rained, a counter-rhythm against the pounding, heavy footfalls of an approaching threat.
A shipping container groaned as a mammoth forced knocked over, the jutting tail-fins of the burning gunship swatted away with even less trouble soon after. Through the smoke of its judgement, it stomped through.
What stomped through ddid so as thruster jets on the back of it shoulders powered down, blue anti-grav pulsations diminishing as wheels on the edge of its boot-like feet retract, stability prioiritized over speed. At 26 feet tall, it was even denser in its bulk than the warform even if its two visible weapons were notably smaller. A preliminary scan revealed missile pods stored in its shoulder but soon, electronic disruption makes such things difficult - something on its body is deliberately targeting them their coms and combat electronics. The former was silenced yet the latter can only struggle.
Given by the muddy-looking smears on its knees and hands, combined with the crude graffiti of a string of triangular, mantis-like heads impaled on a sword with a wingled handle, it's clear it had been very busy even before it was called over.
The heavy duty "machine gun" in its arms locked onto the warform immediately and fired, not just at the Envenomed but through the trees they are putting between themselves. A few rounds slammed into Echo's multipedal body; they did not pierce, glancing hits, but they hit hard enough to stagger the massive warmachine. Its shoulder-mounted cannon swivels around; it points at Ilshar's general direction... but it seemed to avoid aiming at him deliberately. Perhaps it was unable detect his specific location - the camera-pod sitting atop of its shoulder mounted cannon scanned the area. The weapon thudded out its judgement - HE-shells flew as close as within 15 feet of the hidden tarrhaidim, annihilating whatever foliage was behind him, lighting up the woods as the massive machine advanced!
The massive cannon's joints pulsed and a deep, meditative hum serenaded the turning of its enormous barreled body. Like the mechanical gears of some ages old contratpion, the very movement of which felt dangerous in a sense for all of the advancement and refinement it possessed. Legs took turns digging into dirt and turning in place before raising and digging into the ground as sliding plates half-buried the sound of whirring backup system duplicate gears beneath as its smooth body seemed to almost shift liquid-like in spite of its metal merely point its barrel at the target. The weapon leaned forward, the shadow it once cast in the absence of much of the surrounding foliage stretching now towards the cliff-edge of the mountain, near hailing the distant shape that rumbled past the treeline of the mountain opposite.
With a deep breath, the machine began its judgement. The same feeling of hyper-tension against mind and against skin permeated the air; the space of which began to bend as if exposed to extreme heat. Shapes, bodies, foliage, remains, gunship wreckage - for a moment they twisted and bent as natural boundaries became watercolour blurs, light sucking away like luminous gas in the sight of the group. It snapped back to normal as the weapon's "exhaust" gaps seemed to both radiate and retract the very light they emanated; an azur blue that faintly shone on the area before coalescing into semi-material raw power. Ethereally resonant seals made from the very human wiring and electronics within collaborated with scielto construction materials as the fierce though restrained glow of the rune-like inscriptions lit up among the length of the weapon.
Raw ethereal power reached the peak of its amassing pressure and in the same thunderous report that shook the mountains and the trees, imposing its anger and will upon the Envenomed and all others who traveled or hid upon the mountain, the weapon fired. The midday of the battlescarred firebase became a blinding dawn of harsh blue-white as the very muzzle flash of the weapon vanished into the void-tearing exposion. As suddenly as it came, rattling the metal of destroyed war machines and the bullet-ridden trees that overlooked them, the flash was gone and they could see the massive globe of pulsing cobalt aquamarine that soared like a cloud made of raw, pulsing, otherworldly power and mass.
As it descended, somehow neither emitting nor absorbing light, flashes of tracers and piercing blue beams shot up from the rumbling metal shape. It some sort of large armored transport, its own weapons fire momentarily revealing it to any sort of telescopic visual capability from where the Envenomed were located - long enough to be a mobile command center and armed well enough to dissuade drones, aircraft, light vehicles but not the enormous pulsing doom that slammed into the ground to its side. A star blossomed in its wake as it expanded from a dome-shape of raw, arrogant white-blue yet the smooth sphericality of it turned into the unruly, bubbling, frothing rage of a proper explosion. Metal was silhouetted temporarily against the hellish inner blast zone, trees, people, drones - withering away, tearing apart, vanishing as a massive crater of crackling, distorting, bleeding reality manifested where it had landed.
The Envenomed and their allies were too far to feel the neuroethereal interference it would have caused but even they could see the once blocky, multi-sectioned body of a massive command vehicle now twisted like fluids frozen amidst the crest of waves. That was all that was left, beyond teeming smears of now rapidly manifesting dwellers of the oneiric chasm, flooding into realspace to feast on the brutally deceased left in its wake and sources of raw, sparking electrical power that were left bleeding and sputtering.
Almost immediately, the League battle-lines buckled. From up top, they could see tanks abruptly pausing as their rail-cannons stopped mid-targetting. Some fired wildly, shots going wild and tearing lengthy trenches far off from the mecha and other vehicles they were targetting. Once mobile defensive positions paused abruptly, feasted upon by storms of concentrated tracer fire. Gunships circling overhead abruptly paused, uneven fluctuations in firing circles making them easy prey for quad-winged, rapidly flapping bolt-like living projectiles swarming and attaching before detonating in brusts of green, maddening fire.
A full scale retreat was in question but the weapon for all its ponderousnessness turned faster than whole battallions could run. A second massive burst nearly a minute after the first from the weapon's barrel; this time the target would not be a recipient of the mere blast itself but a direct hit. The pulsing sun, like a twitching egg-sac filled with swarming, sliding, and jittering light, descended and the impact was no less horrific. The command centre was an enormous buliding, almost like a small stadium, but it suffered horrifically from the direct strike. The ravenous blossoming of the ethereal sun swelled in size just enoguh to barely cover its curving walls, disintegrating girders and reinforced skeletal structure like burning paper, leaving them withered chunks.
The frenches, the makeshift sub-units, and the vehicles and any infantry among them however - far less remained as the blast wave and void-borne shock slammed into them. Bodies half-vaporized, half shattered into litle symphonies of floating bone, armor, pulp and various bits of fragmenting mass rapidly converting into the unearthly mulch of the void. The metal of machinery cracked and shattered, fragmenting at joints and crumpling at reinforced points, muted explosions of munitions materializing into flourishing, frozen amalgamations of pointed blasts trapped and frozen in place before fading into blurry nothingness.
The ground itself had fared better, kicked up and torn open, yet anything that stood upon it was not returned to dust as much as converted into unearthly, desecrated, un-matter.
All of that was hard to focus on as the rebels, bloodied and worn, raised weapons in victory - hollering, exaltation, cruel taunts, celebration. The pyroclastic extravagagnce below raising their spirits as much as it did the Front forces now storming onto the shattered lines of the enemy.
A third targeting reticle over their HUD's, visible only to them, just as the synthesized voice and coloured text was only perceived by them.
It was not further into the enemy lines, disorganized as they were, nor the opposite mountain top.
It was off to the sides of the battlefield - at a bunker of some sort, the road directly to it blocked off by a pair of enormous and fallen mecha League in origin.
Given the infantry seen entering its hole-punched circular structure and supply vehicles moving in around it over the crater-ridden ground, it was fair to say it was in the hands of allies.
The target marker hovered over it patiently.
"Be fast. You have company. Our allied vanguard detected a spike in raw power readings and something both armored and highly fast moving up the mountain. Do what you need to in order to eliminate the target. Very fast; we are convincing them to hold position. We cannot guarantee it will work."
The special forces team sounded... calm, oddly enough, intentionally even in spite of the fact that the Envenomed team were between two possible disasters. One of which was celebrating around them, stomping and raising fist or firearm alike. Another, little more than a report of a distant threat far off from them... but for how long?
In minutes the concealed position had been turned into an open-air cemetary as the last of defences manned and summoned was set upon by the suviving opposition bloodied and enraged. Ragged camo cloaks torn with holes and out of which jutted long rifles jabbed at frantic, huddling security forces. Near point blank rifle fire tore clean through metal, ballistic under-weave, and partially augmented bodies in neat holes. Heavy duty scatter-shots tore apart cranial protection and mass alike for those who attempted to escape. The truly determined, whether by devil-may-care bravado or some suicidal proffessionalism, fired wildly at the snaking forms as slugs dove through mist and pointed fangs parted biomass and armor.
It had seemed like a painful forever but one armored, alien foot stomped down on a now fragmented skull and grinded into the mush of metal fragments, bone, and organ mush beneath. The gavel had sounded and silence would not answer; the sound of wreckage burning and the ravenous worms destroying the last bits of troopers they could find continued.
As if to break the tranquillity setting over the pulsing ambience of the distant battle happening just over the ridge of the clifftop they were on, a loud and familiar buzz sounded out from the communicator panel - Salvator's HUD immediately was bombarded with infosharing requests, almost obnoxiously enough that it appeared they were trying to brute force their way into controlling his systems as the device all but rattled and exploded off of his storage.
This time however, the message wasn't spoken aloud but forcefully cracked out of their private coms, into their hearing, internal data receptors, closed communication channels and however else they could intrude.
"We cannot advance any further," To the Envenomed it would be as if someone was yelling into their ear, their very stream of consciousness, or otherwise intruding on their privacy. Yet to anyone else, they would hear nothing beyond maybe a faint buzz at best coming from some of their teammates' helmets. "Resistance is stiff, but we have our targets! Confirm control of artillery piece!"
The very reason they had been sent here sat surrounded by the scattered remains of those who had manned it, an enormous mass like some enormous petty emperor. The four legs it sat on seemed stubby before but they were even thicker than the warform's legs, with visible joints meant to curl up for transportation but for whome the gears and axes that defined them looked like they might crack and break under the mere motion of such. Its cannon was wide; enough to fit one of the civsec troopers in straight into its maw. The smooth surface of it looked unnaturally so; the metal itself a faded greyish-white, as if from some sort of combination of skeletal colour yet sculped almost like marvel if not for the blemishes of lightly glowing ridges and gaps along with subtle bumps along the length of the cannon.
A faint sense of tension pervaded the air; not from the thrill and fury of battle but something else that hung within the very space around it. It tingled skin and caressed bone, seeming to whisper to the mind not in truths or temptations but raw id and seeping symbolism of inexplicable un-logic but something deeper and within every cell and vein. The ZRF troopers staggered about for a second, huffing and stabilizing themselves - some took out chemo injectors but the single remaining gealtirocht grunted as the air in front of his skull distorted for a moment; light simply did not pass through and it blurred as if exposed to intense heat on a summer day.
"We have multiple high-value targets to eliminate. Marking now!"
It was the same fully armored Intransigent commando as earlier, but there was no direct camera feed. There likely wasn't a point; heavy audio-filtering was being employed. Sometimes his words half cut out before the background noise vanished and his voice, forcefully separated from it, spiked in volume almost enough that it began to clip.
Multiple data-uplinks; this time, not requests but forced manifestations upon whatever targeting or HUD systems were in use by the squad. The handheld computer's screen blinked and flickered as it forcefully began to manifest three large upside down orange triangles, tip pointed downwards and distancting in metres manifesting overlaid across their vision if they possessed the cybernetics, biomechanical or otherwise integrated capability for such.
The first target was on the mountain opposite of the very one they stood on; the specific target in general was hard to determine - constantly fluctuating numerical measuresments of distance resulted in the targeter-triangle growing and shrinking. Yet if they zoomed in with whatever optical enhancement capabilities, they would notice quite a few trees shaking about and a large black shape moving between them - something metallic, lumbering, yet not slow - seemingly in the direction of the receding CivSec frontlines.
As harsh as the insurgents had been hit by the civsec defenders, the battle line had moved tremendously since they last spoke with the Intransigence commando group on the ground. The same defensive emplacements once firing at the surge of resistance fighters now found themselves as their beacheads and rallying points for the swarm of darkly patterned troopers and blocky, aged tanks vaulting and rumbling across the battlefield.
The next target marker above a spot roughly 10000 meters away, far off into the defensive lines of the UCL backed lines. A dome like structure of some sort like a giant glassy eye and out of which milled machinery and personnel alike. Targeting data suggested it was a sort of command center of some sort, possibly a major communications hub, and it was by and far the furthest target.
The third however... a red triangle manifested on the corner of their HUD's or equivalents, crossed out by red lines and with an equals sign to its right. [TARGET DATA VERIFYING, PROGRESS UNKNOWN]
"Eliminate both targets."
All the while, the surviving ZRF troopers looked at the squad somewhat impatiently. They were under the impression they were trained to use this technology; some of them certainly looked the part.
"Your hesitation is grating; man that cannon, it's what we brought you along for! The remains of my comrades grows colder by the second."
The same scielto who had spoken with them over the intercepted coms jabbed his finger at the unmanned weapon as the once-bisected human soldier staggered alongside him, his steps unsteady but his agitation no less visible.
"Do not let them get into the com channel. We require the first two targets eliminated before we can reveal the third."
As the gunship descended, most had been quick enough to get out of the way as its chin touched the soil followed by the rest of the bulk. Flames and smoke billowed from its husk as it tore up soil and flattened tents underneath, crushing any corpses that lay on the battleifled and smashing a few of the repurposed shipping containers out of the way. As if dead-set on finishing its job, it was moving directly towards not just Kleo but Alice, a vengeful final sendoff for its ultimately futile efforts. Precision was not the name of its game and its huge bulk did not directly slam into Kleo. Yet what was left of its wings and a jutting missile pod slammed into Kleo's sides as it came to a stop dead in the middle of the battlefield, the force easily enough to knock her off of her feet.
Alice would fare somewhat better but secondary detonations across the bulk of the fallen machine sprayed her body with hot shrapnel, the sputtering wreck seemingly hungry to get in whatever hurt it could before it was reduced to useless slag. The metal fragements did not cut deep but the near-cauterizing heat and blast-like spray made it clear they would have to relocate soon.
Meanwhile, the half-guerilla nodded to Salvator and sprayed the entire container's contents into his lower body, covering it in a soapy mess of frothy bubbles before tossing the canister away and picking up the assault rifle. As Salvator momentarily disapepared from sight, a full load of cadenced bursts sounded out and caught the gun platform's attention and that of the squad it was guarding. It was enough that as they focused on the pressing threat furiously emptying a weapon not intended for fully automatic fire, they did not notice the voidhanger threat until it was on top of their very gun platform.
The platform paid little heed to the sudden booted weight on its upper body, not until a knife dug into vulnerable electronics and joints. That's when it paused and the sudden lull in suppressive fire let the half-guerilla retaliate, popping out of cover just long enough to catch distracted civsec rifleman in the chest and face. The others spun to notice what Salvator was doing far too late for the crack of their rifles to do anything. The gun platform bucked and shook, but Salvator has removed himself with a blink, just in time for the ensuing explosion to send a plume of fire and shredded metal outwards.
The entire squad perished in a storm of shattered armor and dismembering fragmentation, leaving three more plus their quadripeds to deal with.
Having extricated him from a close-quarters battle with a berserk automata, Ilshar's machine gun resumed its grisly work and sent an advancing duo of civsec troopers hunkering to the ground. The shielding of the gun platform accompanying them flared to a near opaque level, deflecting bullets off into trees and the surrounding dirt as it expanded into a dome-like shape around its body. The gun-platform held its ground, swivelling its turret to face the source of suppression, one it intended to answer with a considerably larger and higher-output machine gun.
Targeting systems locked onto Ilshar's chest and a full spray of luminiscent bolts spat out in flashes of muted light, shredding the tent behind him and cutting through the smoke beginning to spread onto the battlefield from the massive wreckage of the still-burning gunship.
There was a world of difference between the energy discharged fired by the gun platform and the entire autocannon used by the unztadtlige endoform stomping its way back across the battlefield. The quadriped stopped abruptly, hunkering as a few stray rounds slammed into its shield now flaring with power as it neared its breaking point. That was enough to get the duo of civsec troopers to break from its protection, stray rounds kicking up fountains of dirt as they slammed mere feet from their location.
The remaining two gun platforms immeditely stopped firing at the rest of the squad, pelting the massive armored titan with concentrated gunfire and the rifle rounds of their surviving infantry accompaniment. None of this prevented the final bipedal robot from having its chest and cranium caved in, before flying out of the tent and into a whole squad of infantry and their quadriped support.
At the speed the junked robot fell, the shield did not activate; it simply was not fast enough. Yet the raw mass behind it and the brute strength of the huge unztadtlige turned it into a projectile more than a match for the armour of the quadriped. Legs buckled and armour bent before the hulking turret-machine was knocked clean over, rolling thrice before both robots slammed into a large shipping crage, spewing sparks and smoking black.
Enemy infantry and quadripeds had been halved and they were getting desperate. The remaining two gun platforms began to fall back, eight infantry spreading out as they tried to form a defensive perimeter around the massive artillery platform - its wide base like some enormous four-legged iron mat, huge digging legs entrenched in the soil and the unnaturally smooth, almost living shaped metal-like composite of its hefty barrel glowing with a latent, resting power.
No matter however; a beam of hyper-accelerated particles dropped their number to six, two soldiers sharing the same gaping hole int their chest as one of the surviving gealtirocht troopers advanced. The only of two it apepared, assisted by a mere four human infantry, including the foamed up, freshly bisected one - now grabbing his once missing lower half as its legs began to twitch and he began to reconnect.
"THEIR HOPES LIE CRUSHED AND THEY ALL BUT BEG FOR AN END! LET US PAY ONTO THEM WHAT THEY HAVE PAID UNTO YOUR FOREFATHERS!"
This time, the gealtirocht commander spoke with no voice-distortion and not on private coms. They could hear him, see him perched on top of one of the two destroyed gun-platforms, his rail-cannon slung and a long weapon almost piscine smooth but predatory in its pointed shape, taking pot shots with lances of cold blue particle beams. A desperate security trooper tried to blind fire over the trench they'd built around the bun platform but soil was poor protection for hyper-acclerated particles - his body slumped soon after as they could see and *feel* the morale drop in the surviving troopers.
They were panicking, desperately trying to find more cover and fire off what weak retaliatory fire they could, their taxed gun platforms struggling to adapt to the fact that they were cornered - wild sprays of pulse-beam and chin-mounted gatling fire going wide.
It was a matter of time before they were fully crushed