Super Robot Wars: Calamitous Dawn

[Sigismund]

@Sigismund @Cavaliere @Crimson Dragoon @sippinggp @The Ancient Purple

On approach to the engine block, the quartet suddenly picks up a single incoming contact. Radar returns indicate that the contact's size is no bigger than their own mechs, perhaps a sign that their quartet will become a quintet? But to Valren and Kazuki, their psychic senses would begin to pick up a signature from the approaching stranger, one that is clearly human, yet the Mechanicum Questor will also take note that the stranger is untrained, ignorant, just like the Psion, with his mind an open door. Fortunately for both, they would notice the stranger's mind began to steadily close itself off as he approached the Mercury's Alacrity, a sign that his soul was instinctively protecting itself from the foul presence of the Warp.

Another Psycker appearing? I suppose the cruiser appearring wasnt the end, but apparently just an aberration of size.

This close I didnt dare extend my mind to try sense out the approaching Psycker, I merely could send as many hails torwards the rapidly approaching machine to warn of the contents of the ship. His soul seemed to be protecting itself, by the grace of the Omnisaiiah, but he still needed to be warned of the dangers. Upons the hails I stated this for the Scion to hopefully pick up in transmission:

"Approaching Psycker Scion, if you have any more psykana defensive abilites, use them. Whatever you do, ignore the whispers. Do not let any abomination climb onto your Knight. If you see any abomination, destroy it on sight. We are currently investigating for unaffected survivors, no doubt only still such by psykana defenses and the grace of the Omnisaiiah upon the hull and bulkdoors. if possible, fall into formation torwards the rear and ask as a spotter to make sure we do not get flanked by unforeseen creatures"

 

[Crimson Dragoon]

The Aeolus picked up a new incoming contact on its radar, and undoubtedly the others did too. Signals indicate that it was a similar size to his own mobile suit, and there didn’t appear to be any truly unusual readings. Still, it was a stranger to be sure, and there was only one way to find out who or what it was. Plus the new arrival needed to know what was going on at least.

Daniel sent a hailing signal at the newcomer, which it can hopefully answer back.

“This is second lieutenant Daniel Sorenson of the Atlantic Federation Army. If you couldn’t already tell, this group of ours is investigating this recently crashed wreckage, likely filled with hostiles that can assault the very mind. Take whatever precautions you have. Of course, I’d have to ask who I’m talking with too.”

@sippinggp

 

[sippinggp]

Bastilla Char
Unknown Desert


Suddenly as he approached several communication signals lit up on his display. It seemed that the group he was approaching had detected him. That was good, Pilots rarely enjoyed being surprised.

Another Psycker appearing? I suppose the cruiser appearring wasnt the end, but apparently just an aberration of size.

This close I didnt dare extend my mind to try sense out the approaching Psycker, I merely could send as many hails torwards the rapidly approaching machine to warn of the contents of the ship. His soul seemed to be protecting itself, by the grace of the Omnisaiiah, but he still needed to be warned of the dangers. Upons the hails I stated this for the Scion to hopefully pick up in transmission:

"Approaching Psycker Scion, if you have any more psykana defensive abilites, use them. Whatever you do, ignore the whispers. Do not let any abomination climb onto your Knight. If you see any abomination, destroy it on sight. We are currently investigating for unaffected survivors, no doubt only still such by psykana defenses and the grace of the Omnisaiiah upon the hull and bulkdoors. if possible, fall into formation torwards the rear and ask as a spotter to make sure we do not get flanked by unforeseen creatures"

...what? That might just be the weirdest thing anyone had ever said to him. Psycker Scion? Psykana? Abomination? Knight? Omnisaiiah? What the hell was this dude smoking? Despite his nonsense words, it was clear he was giving him a warning. A warning that his Newtype senses had validated when he initially saw the structure. And what did he mean by "unaffected survivors"? This was all extremely confusing.

"Uh, what exactly the Hell are you talking about? I'm not a, what did you call me, a 'Scion'? Nothing you just said makes any sense. What in the world is an Omnisaiiah? Are you high, or just insane?"

The second hail came in.

The Aeolus picked up a new incoming contact on its radar, and undoubtedly the others did too. Signals indicate that it was a similar size to his own mobile suit, and there didn’t appear to be any truly unusual readings. Still, it was a stranger to be sure, and there was only one way to find out who or what it was. Plus the new arrival needed to know what was going on at least.

Daniel sent a hailing signal at the newcomer, which it can hopefully answer back.

“This is second lieutenant Daniel Sorenson of the Atlantic Federation Army. If you couldn’t already tell, this group of ours is investigating this recently crashed wreckage, likely filled with hostiles that can assault the very mind. Take whatever precautions you have. Of course, I’d have to ask who I’m talking with too.”

@sippinggp

This man was less insane than the last if that was any solace. So this was wreckage of some kind? He wouldn't have been able to tell without him telling him. It looks more like a wrecked cathedral if anything. More importantly, he had never heard of any 'Atlantic Federation'. He hadn't been gone from Earth for more than a month. Could things really have changed that much?

"Commander Bastilla Char of Metatron. Sorry, Atlantic Federation? What the hell is that? And there it is again, just like that nutso guy before. What kind of enemy can assault the mind? Are there Newtypes there aside from the two in your group?"

Everything was extremely confusing and he couldn't understand at all what they were talking about. But he was getting close now. Gaia Gear returned to its Man-Machine form and hit the ground behind them, kicking up a cloud of sand around it. The sleek white machine was stained with yellow sand and black marks from combat. Bastilla flicked his comms over to an open channel they could all receive. He looked at the Man-Machines the others were piloting and didn't recognize the models. But one of them. One of them was...his head suddenly began to hurt. One of the Man-Machines looked so much like something he had seen before but he just couldn't place what the memory was. The strain was putting stress on his brain and he clutched his head for a moment.

"G...Gundam!?"

That word. He had never heard it before but suddenly it slipped from his mouth. What was a Gundam? Why did he recognize this Man-Machine? His head had only hurt like this once before, on that day that he learned of his true self. When he had remembered the fight in Earth's orbit against the White Man-Machine. A memory that was not his, but Char Aznable's. Could those two Man-Machines be the same, or of the same origin?

 

[Sigismund]

Bastilla Char
Unknown Desert


Suddenly as he approached several communication signals lit up on his display. It seemed that the group he was approaching had detected him. That was good, Pilots rarely enjoyed being surprised.


...what? That might just be the weirdest thing anyone had ever said to him. Psycker Scion? Psykana? Abomination? Knight? Omnisaiiah? What the hell was this dude smoking? Despite his nonsense words, it was clear he was giving him a warning. A warning that his Newtype senses had validated when he initially saw the structure. And what did he mean by "unaffected survivors"? This was all extremely confusing.

"Uh, what exactly the Hell are you talking about? I'm not a, what did you call me, a 'Scion'? Nothing you just said makes any sense. What in the world is an Omnisaiiah? Are you high, or just insane?"

The second hail came in.

This man was less insane than the last if that was any solace. So this was wreckage of some kind? He wouldn't have been able to tell without him telling him. It looks more like a wrecked cathedral if anything. More importantly, he had never heard of any 'Atlantic Federation'. He hadn't been gone from Earth for more than a month. Could things really have changed that much?

"Commander Bastilla Char of Metatron. Sorry, Atlantic Federation? What the hell is that? And there it is again, just like that nutso guy before. What kind of enemy can assault the mind? Are there Newtypes there aside from the two in your group?"

Everything was extremely confusing and he couldn't understand at all what they were talking about. But he was getting close now. Gaia Gear returned to its Man-Machine form and hit the ground behind them, kicking up a cloud of sand around it. The sleek white machine was stained with yellow sand and black marks from combat. Bastilla flicked his comms over to an open channel they could all receive. He looked at the Man-Machines the others were piloting and didn't recognize the models. But one of them. One of them was...his head suddenly began to hurt. One of the Man-Machines looked so much like something he had seen before but he just couldn't place what the memory was. The strain was putting stress on his brain and he clutched his head for a moment.

"G...Gundam!?"

That word. He had never heard it before but suddenly it slipped from his mouth. What was a Gundam? Why did he recognize this Man-Machine? His head had only hurt like this once before, on that day that he learned of his true self. When he had remembered the fight in Earth's orbit against the White Man-Machine. A memory that was not his, but Char Aznable's. Could those two Man-Machines be the same, or of the same origin?

Ah yes, the dislocation, it had honestly slipped my mind for rather obvious reasons of my focus being upon the ship, but I supposed a brief summary was due, carefully ignoring his insults towards the Omnissiah. Ignorance was no excuse, but now was not the time and circumstances, just like reality likes to do, tends to disagree with theology on matters.

And here we were, having to deal with a certain theologies degenerate "fuck you" responce to realities denial of their Dark Gods.



"You don't know how you got here, most likely barely remember the very end of or going into a fight. Next thing is you're here in this desert. We all are in the exact same position. Whatever event that brought us here works across different realities as best we can tell. Failing that, it definitely draws upon significant gaps in time.

This corruption is familiar to me and from where I hail. You feel its wrongness in your very soul yourself. There are uncorrupted souls still aboard, we are either going to free them of their circumstances so they can once more serve the Omnissiah's will, or grant them peace with the Omnissiah's blood so that he may receive their souls instead of them falling to the cruel clutches of fate. Join your fire to hours, guard your mind best you can. Further proof of my words will, make itself apparent soon."

By now Ignus taking point had finally made it to the nadir of the channel carved by the cruisers landing, where flesh glass of the sandy dunes meet the still dull red metal of the hosuing.

 

[sippinggp]

Ah yes, the dislocation, it had honestly slipped my mind for rather obvious reasons of my focus being upon the ship, but I supposed a brief summary was due, carefully ignoring his insults towards the Omnissiah. Ignorance was no excuse, but now was not the time and circumstances, just like reality likes to do, tends to disagree with theology on matters.

And here we were, having to deal with a certain theologies degenerate "fuck you" responce to realities denial of their Dark Gods.



"You don't know how you got here, most likely barely remember the very end of or going into a fight. Next thing is you're here in this desert. We all are in the exact same position. Whatever event that brought us here works across different realities as best we can tell. Failing that, it definitely draws upon significant gaps in time.

This corruption is familiar to me and from where I hail. You feel its wrongness in your very soul yourself. There are uncorrupted souls still aboard, we are either going to free them of their circumstances so they can once more serve the Omnissiah's will, or grant them peace with the Omnissiah's blood so that he may receive their souls instead of them falling to the cruel clutches of fate. Join your fire to hours, guard your mind best you can. Further proof of my words will, make itself apparent soon."

By now Ignus taking point had finally made it to the nadir of the channel carved by the cruisers landing, where flesh glass of the sandy dunes meet the still dull red metal of the hosuing.

Bastilla Char
Unknown Desert

"Ahhhh, I think I figured you out. You're in a cult! Definitely a cult. Space cult? I digress. So you're telling me that I've been transported to another world with my Man-Machine? By some...otherworldly force? I'm having a hard time believing that if I'm being totally honest. And I wouldn't take you seriously if I didn't sense that you were a Newtype and that you didn't have some truth in there to back your claims. There is something wrong with that structure, I definitely feel that. Not sure what you mean by 'guard my mind' though.

Let's say I believe you. Are there people in there that need help? I'll tag along, I guess, given that there doesn't seem to be anyone else in this desert. You might be nutty but company is company, I suppose."

He wasn't sure that he actually believed everything that this cultist fellow was saying. But there was a concerning amount of truth in his words. He did wake up from a fight, in the desert, with no memory of getting there. He did feel a terrible emanation from the wreckage they were approaching. This guy sounded nuts but the circumstances were just as so. So perhaps he should take their word for this and give them his aid. Gaia Gear was a formidable Man-Machine, they might need it. He wasn't sure how their own Man-Machines stacked up after all.

"So there's some kind of corruption and we're saving the uncorrupted. Sounds good. If I'm gonna be stuck here than this beats wandering the desert mindlessly. Me and this Man-Machine can take on all comers."

 

[sir_fire]

@Sigismund @Cavaliere @Crimson Dragoon @sippinggp @The Ancient Purple

Suddenly there was a groaning of metal coming from the wreckage and a piece of it flakes off from the rest of the structure like a scab, falling closeby to the quartet and Bastila's location, the chunk of debris fairly sizable but nowhere near big enough or close enough to any of the group to be worried about getting hit by.

But then the pile of blackened steel began to stir, and suddenly a misshapen appendage suddenly emerges from the twisted heap, followed by... Something. It was hard to describe; the closest descriptor for it was a formless blob of charred meat covered in clouded, unseeing eyes, pieces of burned hull melted into its flesh like scales and more deformed limbs, these ones far too warped and burned to be of any use, unlike the arm it was currently using to weakly drag itself away from the slagged pile of junk, letting out mewling wheezes as it pitifully attempted to find safety.

To Valren, this was clearly one of the warpspawn that had been clinging to the hull during reentry. While it wouldn't last the hour given its pathetic state and the lack of ambient warp energy to maintain its form, perhaps the creature can be used as an example to his ignorant companions. In Kazuki's and Bastilla's eyes, however, their senses were telling them that the thing before them shouldn't exist, that it should be banished, destroyed, put out of its misery. To kill it right now! But... Why? What did it ever do to them? And how did they start to think that way about something they never even saw before?

To Liam and Daniel, the creature before them was clearly in agony and really shouldn't be alive given its state and where it had emerged from. Perhaps it would be the merciful thing to just blast it to bits. But stepping on it to save ammo would be ill-advised, what if the stains don't come off? Or how it would their machines end up smelling if they couldn't wash away the viscera?

And then Valren would start to feel the deformed daemon trying to influence everyone in his group with what little remained of its power, urging the mortals around it to end its pitiful state and return it to the warp; to deliver it from its horrid existence in the material plane. The choice was clear: An agent of his Most Holy Inquisition needs not orders to banish the hellspawn of the Empyrean from the Emperor's worldly domain.

 

[sippinggp]

Bastilla Char
Unknown Desert

@Sigismund @Cavaliere @Crimson Dragoon @sippinggp @The Ancient Purple

Suddenly there was a groaning of metal coming from the wreckage and a piece of it flakes off from the rest of the structure like a scab, falling closeby to the quartet and Bastila's location, the chunk of debris fairly sizable but nowhere near big enough or close enough to any of the group to be worried about getting hit by.

But then the pile of blackened steel began to stir, and suddenly a misshapen appendage suddenly emerges from the twisted heap, followed by... Something. It was hard to describe; the closest descriptor for it was a formless blob of charred meat covered in clouded, unseeing eyes, pieces of burned hull melted into its flesh like scales and more deformed limbs, these ones far too warped and burned to be of any use, unlike the arm it was currently using to weakly drag itself away from the slagged pile of junk, letting out mewling wheezes as it pitifully attempted to find safety.

To Valren, this was clearly one of the warpspawn that had been clinging to the hull during reentry. While it wouldn't last the hour given its pathetic state and the lack of ambient warp energy to maintain its form, perhaps the creature can be used as an example to his ignorant companions. In Kazuki's and Bastilla's eyes, however, their senses were telling them that the thing before them shouldn't exist, that it should be banished, destroyed, put out of its misery. To kill it right now! But... Why? What did it ever do to them? And how did they start to think that way about something they never even saw before?

To Liam and Daniel, the creature before them was clearly in agony and really shouldn't be alive given its state and where it had emerged from. Perhaps it would be the merciful thing to just blast it to bits. But stepping on it to save ammo would be ill-advised, what if the stains don't come off? Or how it would their machines end up smelling if they couldn't wash away the viscera?

And then Valren would start to feel the deformed daemon trying to influence everyone in his group with what little remained of its power, urging the mortals around it to end its pitiful state and return it to the warp; to deliver it from its horrid existence in the material plane. The choice was clear: An agent of his Most Holy Inquisition needs not orders to banish the hellspawn of the Empyrean from the Emperor's worldly domain.

What was that freaky thing? His attention was pulled away from his newfound companions and onto the oozing lump of a creature that had just made itself known. An ooze of blackness with an unnecessary amount of eyes. Crawling, wheezing, mewing like to was begging them for something. And suddenly his Newtype Senses kicked into gear (or so he might think) and he felt a sudden pit form in his gut.

This creature, as pathetic as it might have seemed, was a grave threat. The urge to destroy it rose up within him so powerful that he was taken aback. He has never reacted this way towards anything before, never had the urge to destroy so intense. But he always trusted his senses, his instinct. If it was telling him it was bad news he needed to act before the others got hurt.

"WATCH OUT!"

He shouted out, as Gaia Gear raised its Hyper Beam Rifle and opened fire, the purple burst of Minovsky Particles shooting into the black creature at blinding speeds. Over his brief time fighting with Gaia Gear, aided by his aptitude as a Newtype, he was very quick on the draw.

But would his Newtype senses really have urged him to kill? They had never willed him to take offensive actions, only warning him of danger and allowing himself to feel the emotions of those closely attuned to psychic matters, and other Newtypes. Had he really needed to shoot this creature? All those thoughts rushed to him the moment after he pulled the trigger. It hadn't done anything wrong, had it? It didn't look like it could have even been a threat. It might have been weird, but he felt bad about what he had done. He came to grips with having to kill people, war necessitates that. The enemy must be defeated. But this wasn't an enemy. It wasn't evil. It was...he wasn't even sure he could call it 'alive'. Whatever it was might have been friendly. And that led him back to the initial concern. What drove him to pull the trigger?

He leaned back in the seat, the polymer-carbon fiber mesh adjusting itself so as to keep him from falling backwards.

 

[Sigismund]

@Sigismund @Cavaliere @Crimson Dragoon @sippinggp @The Ancient Purple

Suddenly there was a groaning of metal coming from the wreckage and a piece of it flakes off from the rest of the structure like a scab, falling closeby to the quartet and Bastila's location, the chunk of debris fairly sizable but nowhere near big enough or close enough to any of the group to be worried about getting hit by.

But then the pile of blackened steel began to stir, and suddenly a misshapen appendage suddenly emerges from the twisted heap, followed by... Something. It was hard to describe; the closest descriptor for it was a formless blob of charred meat covered in clouded, unseeing eyes, pieces of burned hull melted into its flesh like scales and more deformed limbs, these ones far too warped and burned to be of any use, unlike the arm it was currently using to weakly drag itself away from the slagged pile of junk, letting out mewling wheezes as it pitifully attempted to find safety.

To Valren, this was clearly one of the warpspawn that had been clinging to the hull during reentry. While it wouldn't last the hour given its pathetic state and the lack of ambient warp energy to maintain its form, perhaps the creature can be used as an example to his ignorant companions. In Kazuki's and Bastilla's eyes, however, their senses were telling them that the thing before them shouldn't exist, that it should be banished, destroyed, put out of its misery. To kill it right now! But... Why? What did it ever do to them? And how did they start to think that way about something they never even saw before?

To Liam and Daniel, the creature before them was clearly in agony and really shouldn't be alive given its state and where it had emerged from. Perhaps it would be the merciful thing to just blast it to bits. But stepping on it to save ammo would be ill-advised, what if the stains don't come off? Or how it would their machines end up smelling if they couldn't wash away the viscera?

And then Valren would start to feel the deformed daemon trying to influence everyone in his group with what little remained of its power, urging the mortals around it to end its pitiful state and return it to the warp; to deliver it from its horrid existence in the material plane. The choice was clear: An agent of his Most Holy Inquisition needs not orders to banish the hellspawn of the Empyrean from the Emperor's worldly domain.

Bastilla Char
Unknown Desert



What was that freaky thing? His attention was pulled away from his newfound companions and onto the oozing lump of a creature that had just made itself known. An ooze of blackness with an unnecessary amount of eyes. Crawling, wheezing, mewing like to was begging them for something. And suddenly his Newtype Senses kicked into gear (or so he might think) and he felt a sudden pit form in his gut.

This creature, as pathetic as it might have seemed, was a grave threat. The urge to destroy it rose up within him so powerful that he was taken aback. He has never reacted this way towards anything before, never had the urge to destroy so intense. But he always trusted his senses, his instinct. If it was telling him it was bad news he needed to act before the others got hurt.

"WATCH OUT!"

He shouted out, as Gaia Gear raised its Hyper Beam Rifle and opened fire, the purple burst of Minovsky Particles shooting into the black creature at blinding speeds. Over his brief time fighting with Gaia Gear, aided by his aptitude as a Newtype, he was very quick on the draw.

But would his Newtype senses really have urged him to kill? They had never willed him to take offensive actions, only warning him of danger and allowing himself to feel the emotions of those closely attuned to psychic matters, and other Newtypes. Had he really needed to shoot this creature? All those thoughts rushed to him the moment after he pulled the trigger. It hadn't done anything wrong, had it? It didn't look like it could have even been a threat. It might have been weird, but he felt bad about what he had done. He came to grips with having to kill people, war necessitates that. The enemy must be defeated. But this wasn't an enemy. It wasn't evil. It was...he wasn't even sure he could call it 'alive'. Whatever it was might have been friendly. And that led him back to the initial concern. What drove him to pull the trigger?

He leaned back in the seat, the polymer-carbon fiber mesh adjusting itself so as to keep him from falling backwards.

I believe the ancient Terran quote was along the lines of "I told you so", but that seemed hardly necessary.
But it would certainly be a good stick to beat over his head should he try and repeat. Dense skulls tended to need an arbites's attention more carefully and diligently than most after all.
So instead I joined my fire to Bastilla's, the Lighting Cannon, Plasma Fusil, and rad cleanser opened up in unison.
Ignus seemed to be more than willing, pushing more power than necessary for the attacks, seeming to take far more issue with the corrupted metal underneath the warpspawn.

But now with this major section of the hull pulled away, Ignus's Empyreal PreySight allowed me a far better look at the inside, and if I was correct about position, I should be just in range to see the outside hull of the subbridge, with the drive casings disconnected and no longer blocking the view with massive plasma interfere directly in the way.

"As I said before, ignore any whispers. What that was is simply the begining of abominations the Warp can spit out. "

 

[Crimson Dragoon]

@Sigismund @Cavaliere @Crimson Dragoon @sippinggp @The Ancient Purple

Suddenly there was a groaning of metal coming from the wreckage and a piece of it flakes off from the rest of the structure like a scab, falling closeby to the quartet and Bastila's location, the chunk of debris fairly sizable but nowhere near big enough or close enough to any of the group to be worried about getting hit by.

But then the pile of blackened steel began to stir, and suddenly a misshapen appendage suddenly emerges from the twisted heap, followed by... Something. It was hard to describe; the closest descriptor for it was a formless blob of charred meat covered in clouded, unseeing eyes, pieces of burned hull melted into its flesh like scales and more deformed limbs, these ones far too warped and burned to be of any use, unlike the arm it was currently using to weakly drag itself away from the slagged pile of junk, letting out mewling wheezes as it pitifully attempted to find safety.

To Valren, this was clearly one of the warpspawn that had been clinging to the hull during reentry. While it wouldn't last the hour given its pathetic state and the lack of ambient warp energy to maintain its form, perhaps the creature can be used as an example to his ignorant companions. In Kazuki's and Bastilla's eyes, however, their senses were telling them that the thing before them shouldn't exist, that it should be banished, destroyed, put out of its misery. To kill it right now! But... Why? What did it ever do to them? And how did they start to think that way about something they never even saw before?

To Liam and Daniel, the creature before them was clearly in agony and really shouldn't be alive given its state and where it had emerged from. Perhaps it would be the merciful thing to just blast it to bits. But stepping on it to save ammo would be ill-advised, what if the stains don't come off? Or how it would their machines end up smelling if they couldn't wash away the viscera?

And then Valren would start to feel the deformed daemon trying to influence everyone in his group with what little remained of its power, urging the mortals around it to end its pitiful state and return it to the warp; to deliver it from its horrid existence in the material plane. The choice was clear: An agent of his Most Holy Inquisition needs not orders to banish the hellspawn of the Empyrean from the Emperor's worldly domain.

While Bastilla and Velrin were talking about their situation, something emerged from the ruined husk of the ship. A blob of flesh with deformed limbs and pieces of the ship’s metal fused to it. It looked very much wrong and something that shouldn’t be alive. A small sample of what awaits them, surely. The beam rifle was aimed at it, ready to fire…

Bastilla Char
Unknown Desert



What was that freaky thing? His attention was pulled away from his newfound companions and onto the oozing lump of a creature that had just made itself known. An ooze of blackness with an unnecessary amount of eyes. Crawling, wheezing, mewing like to was begging them for something. And suddenly his Newtype Senses kicked into gear (or so he might think) and he felt a sudden pit form in his gut.

This creature, as pathetic as it might have seemed, was a grave threat. The urge to destroy it rose up within him so powerful that he was taken aback. He has never reacted this way towards anything before, never had the urge to destroy so intense. But he always trusted his senses, his instinct. If it was telling him it was bad news he needed to act before the others got hurt.

"WATCH OUT!"

He shouted out, as Gaia Gear raised its Hyper Beam Rifle and opened fire, the purple burst of Minovsky Particles shooting into the black creature at blinding speeds. Over his brief time fighting with Gaia Gear, aided by his aptitude as a Newtype, he was very quick on the draw.

But would his Newtype senses really have urged him to kill? They had never willed him to take offensive actions, only warning him of danger and allowing himself to feel the emotions of those closely attuned to psychic matters, and other Newtypes. Had he really needed to shoot this creature? All those thoughts rushed to him the moment after he pulled the trigger. It hadn't done anything wrong, had it? It didn't look like it could have even been a threat. It might have been weird, but he felt bad about what he had done. He came to grips with having to kill people, war necessitates that. The enemy must be defeated. But this wasn't an enemy. It wasn't evil. It was...he wasn't even sure he could call it 'alive'. Whatever it was might have been friendly. And that led him back to the initial concern. What drove him to pull the trigger?

He leaned back in the seat, the polymer-carbon fiber mesh adjusting itself so as to keep him from falling backwards.

…Only for Bastilla to immediately open fire first and was shortly joined by the Knight Scion, taking care of that issue.

“Well, I hope that answers any doubts you have,” Daniel said.

 

[sippinggp]

Bastilla Char
Unknown Desert

I believe the ancient Terran quote was along the lines of "I told you so", but that seemed hardly necessary.
But it would certainly be a good stick to beat over his head should he try and repeat. Dense skulls tended to need an arbites's attention more carefully and diligently than most after all.
So instead I joined my fire to Bastilla's, the Lighting Cannon, Plasma Fusil, and rad cleanser opened up in unison.
Ignus seemed to be more than willing, pushing more power than necessary for the attacks, seeming to take far more issue with the corrupted metal underneath the warpspawn.

But now with this major section of the hull pulled away, Ignus's Empyreal PreySight allowed me a far better look at the inside, and if I was correct about position, I should be just in range to see the outside hull of the subbridge, with the drive casings disconnected and no longer blocking the view with massive plasma interfere directly in the way.

"As I said before, ignore any whispers. What that was is simply the begining of abominations the Warp can spit out. "

He was taken aback by how calm the other Newtype was. And when he had joined in, killing the pitiful mass of flesh and eyes, it had reassured him somewhat. The cultist (he was still holding on to the fact that he was, even if more of what he said was starting to appear true) and his Man-Machine seemed formidable. Very heavily armed, and with weapons which he was not familiar.

"What the shit? That was insane. That thing was- was crazy! Was that a frickin' alien? Ah man and we totally incinerated that thing, christ almighty."

He used the back of his gloved hand to wipe a sheen of sweat that had formed on his face. He was dripping with it, due not only to the stress of the situation but the heat of the desert. He unzipped his airtight pilot suit letting it fall down to his sides. His undershirt was stained with grime.

While Bastilla and Velrin were talking about their situation, something emerged from the ruined husk of the ship. A blob of flesh with deformed limbs and pieces of the ship’s metal fused to it. It looked very much wrong and something that shouldn’t be alive. A small sample of what awaits them, surely. The beam rifle was aimed at it, ready to fire…

…Only for Bastilla to immediately open fire first and was shortly joined by the Knight Scion, taking care of that issue.

“Well, I hope that answers any doubts you have,” Daniel said.

"I- Yeah. I think that was good enough proof to convince me something crazy is going on..."

He clasped his hands behind his heads, leaned back further, and closed his eyes. This was a lot to take in at once. Alternate Universe, Aliens, Cultists, and the fact that he was already run ragged before he awoke here. Whatever had taken here had clearly not given him the benefit of rest as he could feel how tired he was, wishing only to lay back and drift into slumber. But clearly, the situation was too volatile for that. He stifled a yawn.

"So I'm in. Let's get this done. Help those people. All that."

 

[Cavaliere]

"Don't expect much mobility, while the corridors should be large enough to have all of us move in formation, there isn't enough space for Arial maneuvers or much cover to expect."

@Sigismund @Cavaliere @Crimson Dragoon @sippinggp @The Ancient Purple

On approach to the engine block, the quartet suddenly picks up a single incoming contact. Radar returns indicate that the contact's size is no bigger than their own mechs, perhaps a sign that their quartet will become a quintet? But to Valren and Kazuki, their psychic senses would begin to pick up a signature from the approaching stranger, one that is clearly human, yet the Mechanicum Questor will also take note that the stranger is untrained, ignorant, just like the Psion, with his mind an open door. Fortunately for both, they would notice the stranger's mind began to steadily close itself off as he approached the Mercury's Alacrity, a sign that his soul was instinctively protecting itself from the foul presence of the Warp.

Another Psycker appearing? I suppose the cruiser appearring wasnt the end, but apparently just an aberration of size.

This close I didnt dare extend my mind to try sense out the approaching Psycker, I merely could send as many hails torwards the rapidly approaching machine to warn of the contents of the ship. His soul seemed to be protecting itself, by the grace of the Omnisaiiah, but he still needed to be warned of the dangers. Upons the hails I stated this for the Scion to hopefully pick up in transmission:

"Approaching Psycker Scion, if you have any more psykana defensive abilites, use them. Whatever you do, ignore the whispers. Do not let any abomination climb onto your Knight. If you see any abomination, destroy it on sight. We are currently investigating for unaffected survivors, no doubt only still such by psykana defenses and the grace of the Omnisaiiah upon the hull and bulkdoors. if possible, fall into formation torwards the rear and ask as a spotter to make sure we do not get flanked by unforeseen creatures"

The Aeolus picked up a new incoming contact on its radar, and undoubtedly the others did too. Signals indicate that it was a similar size to his own mobile suit, and there didn’t appear to be any truly unusual readings. Still, it was a stranger to be sure, and there was only one way to find out who or what it was. Plus the new arrival needed to know what was going on at least.

Daniel sent a hailing signal at the newcomer, which it can hopefully answer back.

“This is second lieutenant Daniel Sorenson of the Atlantic Federation Army. If you couldn’t already tell, this group of ours is investigating this recently crashed wreckage, likely filled with hostiles that can assault the very mind. Take whatever precautions you have. Of course, I’d have to ask who I’m talking with too.”

@sippinggp

Bastilla Char
Unknown Desert
This man was less insane than the last if that was any solace. So this was wreckage of some kind? He wouldn't have been able to tell without him telling him. It looks more like a wrecked cathedral if anything. More importantly, he had never heard of any 'Atlantic Federation'. He hadn't been gone from Earth for more than a month. Could things really have changed that much?

"Commander Bastilla Char of Metatron. Sorry, Atlantic Federation? What the hell is that? And there it is again, just like that nutso guy before. What kind of enemy can assault the mind? Are there Newtypes there aside from the two in your group?"

Everything was extremely confusing and he couldn't understand at all what they were talking about. But he was getting close now. Gaia Gear returned to its Man-Machine form and hit the ground behind them, kicking up a cloud of sand around it. The sleek white machine was stained with yellow sand and black marks from combat. Bastilla flicked his comms over to an open channel they could all receive. He looked at the Man-Machines the others were piloting and didn't recognize the models. But one of them. One of them was...his head suddenly began to hurt. One of the Man-Machines looked so much like something he had seen before but he just couldn't place what the memory was. The strain was putting stress on his brain and he clutched his head for a moment.

"G...Gundam!?"

That word. He had never heard it before but suddenly it slipped from his mouth. What was a Gundam? Why did he recognize this Man-Machine? His head had only hurt like this once before, on that day that he learned of his true self. When he had remembered the fight in Earth's orbit against the White Man-Machine. A memory that was not his, but Char Aznable's. Could those two Man-Machines be the same, or of the same origin?

Ah yes, the dislocation, it had honestly slipped my mind for rather obvious reasons of my focus being upon the ship, but I supposed a brief summary was due, carefully ignoring his insults towards the Omnissiah. Ignorance was no excuse, but now was not the time and circumstances, just like reality likes to do, tends to disagree with theology on matters.

And here we were, having to deal with a certain theologies degenerate "fuck you" responce to realities denial of their Dark Gods.

"You don't know how you got here, most likely barely remember the very end of or going into a fight. Next thing is you're here in this desert. We all are in the exact same position. Whatever event that brought us here works across different realities as best we can tell. Failing that, it definitely draws upon significant gaps in time.

This corruption is familiar to me and from where I hail. You feel its wrongness in your very soul yourself. There are uncorrupted souls still aboard, we are either going to free them of their circumstances so they can once more serve the Omnissiah's will, or grant them peace with the Omnissiah's blood so that he may receive their souls instead of them falling to the cruel clutches of fate. Join your fire to hours, guard your mind best you can. Further proof of my words will, make itself apparent soon."

By now Ignus taking point had finally made it to the nadir of the channel carved by the cruisers landing, where flesh glass of the sandy dunes meet the still dull red metal of the hosuing.

Bastilla Char
Unknown Desert

"Ahhhh, I think I figured you out. You're in a cult! Definitely a cult. Space cult? I digress. So you're telling me that I've been transported to another world with my Man-Machine? By some...otherworldly force? I'm having a hard time believing that if I'm being totally honest. And I wouldn't take you seriously if I didn't sense that you were a Newtype and that you didn't have some truth in there to back your claims. There is something wrong with that structure, I definitely feel that. Not sure what you mean by 'guard my mind' though.

Let's say I believe you. Are there people in there that need help? I'll tag along, I guess, given that there doesn't seem to be anyone else in this desert. You might be nutty but company is company, I suppose."

He wasn't sure that he actually believed everything that this cultist fellow was saying. But there was a concerning amount of truth in his words. He did wake up from a fight, in the desert, with no memory of getting there. He did feel a terrible emanation from the wreckage they were approaching. This guy sounded nuts but the circumstances were just as so. So perhaps he should take their word for this and give them his aid. Gaia Gear was a formidable Man-Machine, they might need it. He wasn't sure how their own Man-Machines stacked up after all.

"So there's some kind of corruption and we're saving the uncorrupted. Sounds good. If I'm gonna be stuck here than this beats wandering the desert mindlessly. Me and this Man-Machine can take on all comers."

William Liam Tinmall
<<<Ø>>>
Once again, the dimensional anomaly and our weird luck had given another member to this weird team.
Looking at the machine, it had the most complex design from a mechanical point of view, almost as if the entire frame was supposed to bend in half to allow for a transformation.
Liam sighed at the idea: rare and difficult to produce without straining the frame, transforming suits were never his favorite, as they were, ironically, less flexible to work with.
The Zero-point energy reactor was too heavy to be fitted into the X300 frame, something he said multiple times to his superiors but was never heard, so he moved on from the awkward project, a little annoyed by the waste of time.

He was pulled from his tangent by the stranger's, Bastilla Char, reaction to his own suit specifically.

While not uncommon that the Null was recognized due to how widespread the OS was, it was peculiar that a man from another dimension heard the name.
This was curious, he had to talk to this man, even more now that he made the comment about how cult-like Valren sounded...

@Sigismund @Cavaliere @Crimson Dragoon @sippinggp @The Ancient Purple

Suddenly there was a groaning of metal coming from the wreckage and a piece of it flakes off from the rest of the structure like a scab, falling closeby to the quartet and Bastila's location, the chunk of debris fairly sizable but nowhere near big enough or close enough to any of the group to be worried about getting hit by.

But then the pile of blackened steel began to stir, and suddenly a misshapen appendage suddenly emerges from the twisted heap, followed by... Something. It was hard to describe; the closest descriptor for it was a formless blob of charred meat covered in clouded, unseeing eyes, pieces of burned hull melted into its flesh like scales and more deformed limbs, these ones far too warped and burned to be of any use, unlike the arm it was currently using to weakly drag itself away from the slagged pile of junk, letting out mewling wheezes as it pitifully attempted to find safety.

To Valren, this was clearly one of the warpspawn that had been clinging to the hull during reentry. While it wouldn't last the hour given its pathetic state and the lack of ambient warp energy to maintain its form, perhaps the creature can be used as an example to his ignorant companions. In Kazuki's and Bastilla's eyes, however, their senses were telling them that the thing before them shouldn't exist, that it should be banished, destroyed, put out of its misery. To kill it right now! But... Why? What did it ever do to them? And how did they start to think that way about something they never even saw before?

To Liam and Daniel, the creature before them was clearly in agony and really shouldn't be alive given its state and where it had emerged from. Perhaps it would be the merciful thing to just blast it to bits. But stepping on it to save ammo would be ill-advised, what if the stains don't come off? Or how it would their machines end up smelling if they couldn't wash away the viscera?

And then Valren would start to feel the deformed daemon trying to influence everyone in his group with what little remained of its power, urging the mortals around it to end its pitiful state and return it to the warp; to deliver it from its horrid existence in the material plane. The choice was clear: An agent of his Most Holy Inquisition needs not orders to banish the hellspawn of the Empyrean from the Emperor's worldly domain.

Bastilla Char
Unknown Desert



What was that freaky thing? His attention was pulled away from his newfound companions and onto the oozing lump of a creature that had just made itself known. An ooze of blackness with an unnecessary amount of eyes. Crawling, wheezing, mewing like to was begging them for something. And suddenly his Newtype Senses kicked into gear (or so he might think) and he felt a sudden pit form in his gut.

This creature, as pathetic as it might have seemed, was a grave threat. The urge to destroy it rose up within him so powerful that he was taken aback. He has never reacted this way towards anything before, never had the urge to destroy so intense. But he always trusted his senses, his instinct. If it was telling him it was bad news he needed to act before the others got hurt.

"WATCH OUT!"

He shouted out, as Gaia Gear raised its Hyper Beam Rifle and opened fire, the purple burst of Minovsky Particles shooting into the black creature at blinding speeds. Over his brief time fighting with Gaia Gear, aided by his aptitude as a Newtype, he was very quick on the draw.

But would his Newtype senses really have urged him to kill? They had never willed him to take offensive actions, only warning him of danger and allowing himself to feel the emotions of those closely attuned to psychic matters, and other Newtypes. Had he really needed to shoot this creature? All those thoughts rushed to him the moment after he pulled the trigger. It hadn't done anything wrong, had it? It didn't look like it could have even been a threat. It might have been weird, but he felt bad about what he had done. He came to grips with having to kill people, war necessitates that. The enemy must be defeated. But this wasn't an enemy. It wasn't evil. It was...he wasn't even sure he could call it 'alive'. Whatever it was might have been friendly. And that led him back to the initial concern. What drove him to pull the trigger?

He leaned back in the seat, the polymer-carbon fiber mesh adjusting itself so as to keep him from falling backwards.

I believe the ancient Terran quote was along the lines of "I told you so", but that seemed hardly necessary.
But it would certainly be a good stick to beat over his head should he try and repeat. Dense skulls tended to need an arbites's attention more carefully and diligently than most after all.
So instead I joined my fire to Bastilla's, the Lighting Cannon, Plasma Fusil, and rad cleanser opened up in unison.
Ignus seemed to be more than willing, pushing more power than necessary for the attacks, seeming to take far more issue with the corrupted metal underneath the warpspawn.

But now with this major section of the hull pulled away, Ignus's Empyreal PreySight allowed me a far better look at the inside, and if I was correct about position, I should be just in range to see the outside hull of the subbridge, with the drive casings disconnected and no longer blocking the view with massive plasma interfere directly in the way.

"As I said before, ignore any whispers. What that was is simply the begining of abominations the Warp can spit out. "

While Bastilla and Velrin were talking about their situation, something emerged from the ruined husk of the ship. A blob of flesh with deformed limbs and pieces of the ship’s metal fused to it. It looked very much wrong and something that shouldn’t be alive. A small sample of what awaits them, surely. The beam rifle was aimed at it, ready to fire…

…Only for Bastilla to immediately open fire first and was shortly joined by the Knight Scion, taking care of that issue.

“Well, I hope that answers any doubts you have,” Daniel said.

The... thing was horrifying: A mass of flesh with no sense, in constant apparent pain, moving almost as if to spite what was alive.
Not even Franz would want to study this abomination.

Pulling out the waste collector, Liam hurled, vomiting what was left of his breakfast at the sight of Bastilla and Valrin execution, scared out of his mind that this was going to be the fist of many, many creatures like this.

War on a total scale with this? No wonder Valrin acted like such a zealot.

'I need to adjust the output of the beam rifle... Maybe a shotgun configuration? A continuous beam? He said that nothing should remain but I have no weapon fit for such damage... Great Scott I can't think about it or I'll just throw up again...'

He was not prepared, this was not what he sighed up for...
How can people deal with this?

 

[The Ancient Purple]

As the "meteor" streaked across the sky, its fateful impact with the surface growing closer and closer with every moment, the quartet's questions regarding the unidentified object would soon be answered once they get a good view of its side: While the corona still made it fairly difficult to make out, it became clear that the shooting star was in fact a spaceship, an utterly cyclopean one, roughly multiple kilometers in length if one were to eyeball it and from its shape and seemed to sport what appeared to be a ram upon its bow, like that of a Trireme. Very strange...

However, to the Mechanicus Questor; the sight of the stricken ship would instead bring despair rather than confusion as just from its silhouette, it would be identified as an Imperial Navy Lunar-Class Cruiser and for a vessel of its size to resort to atmospheric reentry, would mean that something terribly wrong has happened to it.

Very, very wrong by the fact that there was no response from the ship, hopefully, due to the bridge crew being too busy to reply and not because they were dead... Or worse. His psychic scrying however yielded a much less ambiguous but still worrisome result: A wailing cacophony of pain and misery from stray warpspawn clinging to the ship's hull like barnacles as they burned away into nothingness before the planet's atmosphere, one of the first signs of a Gellar Field failure... He can only hope that the infestation was only skin-deep lest the ship and whatever misbegotten horrors have taken root inside end up damning the entire planet.

Kazuki's jaw opens wide, quite nearly dropping into the floor in bewilderment not of the dramatic crash he was about to witness... But what lied within. In the gaze of his psychically attuned passive vision, he could bear clear witness to the 'aura' the unknown ship emanated. But judging by how quickly he managed to get a hold of himself, maybe the underlying concept of darkness and corruption was not so new to him. It was this that he bore in mind when he stared at the ship and the infestation in tow twisting the air and the emotional atmosphere with a heavily uncanny influence.

"Oh boy..." He muttered to no one in particular in the open comms. His tone evoked a sense of heavy urgency to act in response to the crash, regardless of what the next course of action to be decided may be. To flee or to approach.

"We must destroy all traces of the demonic there, including any tainted crew. The taint of Deamons can linger with the direct contact they have no doubt had. The only hope for their souls is for the cleaning fire of the Omnissiah's Blood. There is no time to waste, as for deamons Time is merely something they look in upon."

"Also Kazuki, do not under any circumstances attempt to obverse them or use your psychic powers on them. If you have any psychic defenses, put them up now. Even with that stay at the extreme range of your weapons. If you do not, focus your will, keep your soul inside your Knight, ignore the voices, do not let them touch you, and pray. Faith is all that will protect you."

With those words said, Ignus took off at a dead sprint over the sands.

It was a mere thought that passed thought my mind as we took point. The last memories I had was coming down in a combat drop from space to combat the deamonic.
Let's hope the Lunar's previous occupant wasn't a Rouge Trader and dropped the Torpedo tubes. Without that modification, hauling Battle Titans wouldn't have enough cargo space to be stored, so they couldn't have a corrupted Battle Titan on board. Possibly a traitor Warhound, or Knights comparable to my own, but certainly no Imperator or Warmonger.

Isn't that a question I have heard far too often. Warpspawn clung to the side of the ship, even the fires of reentry wasnt enough to dissuade all of them from trying to burrow in. That already said quite a bit about how hard to put down they were.

However with the Lunar Class now very much in range for Low Orbit Communications, I sent Inquisitioial comms overrides to try and connect to any still active Imperial networks.

But as that was happening, I voiced my reply to his question.
"On the hull of the ship, a few of them are still clinging on and trying to get inside of meters and meters of hardened metal thats right now holding up to reentry into a 1G Gravity Well despite being Kilometers large. Even with how slow they are coming down, those fires should be a testimonial to their endurance and resistance agaisnt the purely physical. Have Faith in your weapons, thats what will see you through. I do not know how many are inside the ship or exactly what to except in terms of what will be attacking us, I am trying to contact any systems and surviving Imperial Com networks on-board, but the reentry may hamper those for a minute.
As for what to expect from them in attack, like I said expect false promises, soft seemingly innocent touches to your mind. Expect whispered and honeyed lies that promise you pleasure in return for your soul. Ignore them. As soon as you see a horrific abomination, shoot it and keep shooting it until its gone. Not "until its dead" deamons don't die, so don't fall for any not moving bodies. Don't stop firing until the body is gone, and you will know when it is gone, your very soul will tell you. Even those of us blessed enough not to be psychic will know. "

At this point, the light of the Cruiser had long overpowered the light of the Star on the desert. The once yellow brown sands glowed a bright white from the sheer about of light at our proximity to the falling vessel.

So we strood on

So mental assaults, as expected from before. The skirmishes against the Epsilon forces made it a not unexpected thing, but it was no less foul. There were too many stories of people having their minds and spirits broken by forces beyond the physical realm, leaving them twisted parodies of what they were. Daniel promised himself he wouldn’t become one of them. As someone who was the only survivor of that ill-fated assault on an Epsilon holding, one that he led, he should do at least that much.

“I guess I’ll have to put some trust in you when it comes to dealing with this thing.”

Of course, there was someone else here with a sixth sense. Maybe he has something for a situation like this.

“Corporal Kazuki, right? The Knight Scion here mentioned psychic defenses. Are you capable of such? If so, can you somehow extend it to the rest of the group here?”

@The Ancient Purple
William Liam Tinmall
<<<Ø>>>
At Ignus declaration, Liam's body seized up, going over the grim news and the battle to come.
From the way that the Knight Scion had talked, this was something from his universe, part of the Total War he fought on a daily basis: he spoke of demons, corruption, and taint like it was nothing, however, it was clear that what they had to do was something that they had to deal with time and time again, a slaughter of people that had no fault other than being caught in an attack.

"Is it truly necessary? It's not possible that everyone on that massive ship was infected, corrupted, or whatever. If we move we can certainly help the survivors"

Liam had already pushed on the pedals, making the Null run to catch up to the others with big leaps. The suspensions groaned due to the stronger stress, not used to real gravity, but they held for now.
The scientist had another reason to be worried, something that had loomed over him since joining the crew of the Virtue like a dark omen.

He was going to be forced to kill.

The demons, maybe he could rationalize it, thinking them as just unthinking machines that would shoot him down in a heartbeat.
But Ignus was talking about culling civilians and...

He hoped that there would be another way.

The corporal did not need to be told twice. Shifting a bit of his focus, the boy erected a psychic barrier around his being, designed to ward off or hinder mental and spiritualinfluences from the outside as best as it could. There was a decent degree of proficiency in executing the psychic defense mechanism as per request as he continued to stare towards the fallen ship with a mixture of blank, surprise, awe and sheer curiosity.

When inquired about the extension of psychic defense by Daniel, a sigh escaped from inbetween his lips. "Sorry, no can do... That's... Outside of my department entirely. The best I can do for you and Liam is try and identify spots where this darkness is thinner and set a perimeter to determine safety degrees with proximity."

Despite the earlier warning from the Knight Scion, the japanese corporal couldn't help but attempt to test his limits before this situation. A couple of things were still unclear to him: Was there anyone alive and sane inside the ship? If so, who? Those were the questions he bore in mind as he began to meticulously regulate the ability of his third eye to find an optimal spot to pierce through the demonic shroud and see the psychic auras of potential survivors and living beings alike through the ship's hull. A large amount of caution was exercised to determine how much could he push his luck before the mysterious entities took note of him.

"I gotta find out if there's someone still alive inside that thing. This may take a while, so please cover me as I scout from this position." He humbly requested from the other three while seeking to do just that.

 

[The Ancient Purple]

@Sigismund @Cavaliere @Crimson Dragoon @sippinggp @The Ancient Purple

Suddenly there was a groaning of metal coming from the wreckage and a piece of it flakes off from the rest of the structure like a scab, falling closeby to the quartet and Bastila's location, the chunk of debris fairly sizable but nowhere near big enough or close enough to any of the group to be worried about getting hit by.

But then the pile of blackened steel began to stir, and suddenly a misshapen appendage suddenly emerges from the twisted heap, followed by... Something. It was hard to describe; the closest descriptor for it was a formless blob of charred meat covered in clouded, unseeing eyes, pieces of burned hull melted into its flesh like scales and more deformed limbs, these ones far too warped and burned to be of any use, unlike the arm it was currently using to weakly drag itself away from the slagged pile of junk, letting out mewling wheezes as it pitifully attempted to find safety.

To Valren, this was clearly one of the warpspawn that had been clinging to the hull during reentry. While it wouldn't last the hour given its pathetic state and the lack of ambient warp energy to maintain its form, perhaps the creature can be used as an example to his ignorant companions. In Kazuki's and Bastilla's eyes, however, their senses were telling them that the thing before them shouldn't exist, that it should be banished, destroyed, put out of its misery. To kill it right now! But... Why? What did it ever do to them? And how did they start to think that way about something they never even saw before?

To Liam and Daniel, the creature before them was clearly in agony and really shouldn't be alive given its state and where it had emerged from. Perhaps it would be the merciful thing to just blast it to bits. But stepping on it to save ammo would be ill-advised, what if the stains don't come off? Or how it would their machines end up smelling if they couldn't wash away the viscera?

And then Valren would start to feel the deformed daemon trying to influence everyone in his group with what little remained of its power, urging the mortals around it to end its pitiful state and return it to the warp; to deliver it from its horrid existence in the material plane. The choice was clear: An agent of his Most Holy Inquisition needs not orders to banish the hellspawn of the Empyrean from the Emperor's worldly domain.

Bastilla Char
Unknown Desert



What was that freaky thing? His attention was pulled away from his newfound companions and onto the oozing lump of a creature that had just made itself known. An ooze of blackness with an unnecessary amount of eyes. Crawling, wheezing, mewing like to was begging them for something. And suddenly his Newtype Senses kicked into gear (or so he might think) and he felt a sudden pit form in his gut.

This creature, as pathetic as it might have seemed, was a grave threat. The urge to destroy it rose up within him so powerful that he was taken aback. He has never reacted this way towards anything before, never had the urge to destroy so intense. But he always trusted his senses, his instinct. If it was telling him it was bad news he needed to act before the others got hurt.

"WATCH OUT!"

He shouted out, as Gaia Gear raised its Hyper Beam Rifle and opened fire, the purple burst of Minovsky Particles shooting into the black creature at blinding speeds. Over his brief time fighting with Gaia Gear, aided by his aptitude as a Newtype, he was very quick on the draw.

But would his Newtype senses really have urged him to kill? They had never willed him to take offensive actions, only warning him of danger and allowing himself to feel the emotions of those closely attuned to psychic matters, and other Newtypes. Had he really needed to shoot this creature? All those thoughts rushed to him the moment after he pulled the trigger. It hadn't done anything wrong, had it? It didn't look like it could have even been a threat. It might have been weird, but he felt bad about what he had done. He came to grips with having to kill people, war necessitates that. The enemy must be defeated. But this wasn't an enemy. It wasn't evil. It was...he wasn't even sure he could call it 'alive'. Whatever it was might have been friendly. And that led him back to the initial concern. What drove him to pull the trigger?

He leaned back in the seat, the polymer-carbon fiber mesh adjusting itself so as to keep him from falling backwards.

I believe the ancient Terran quote was along the lines of "I told you so", but that seemed hardly necessary.
But it would certainly be a good stick to beat over his head should he try and repeat. Dense skulls tended to need an arbites's attention more carefully and diligently than most after all.
So instead I joined my fire to Bastilla's, the Lighting Cannon, Plasma Fusil, and rad cleanser opened up in unison.
Ignus seemed to be more than willing, pushing more power than necessary for the attacks, seeming to take far more issue with the corrupted metal underneath the warpspawn.

But now with this major section of the hull pulled away, Ignus's Empyreal PreySight allowed me a far better look at the inside, and if I was correct about position, I should be just in range to see the outside hull of the subbridge, with the drive casings disconnected and no longer blocking the view with massive plasma interfere directly in the way.

"As I said before, ignore any whispers. What that was is simply the begining of abominations the Warp can spit out. "

While Bastilla and Velrin were talking about their situation, something emerged from the ruined husk of the ship. A blob of flesh with deformed limbs and pieces of the ship’s metal fused to it. It looked very much wrong and something that shouldn’t be alive. A small sample of what awaits them, surely. The beam rifle was aimed at it, ready to fire…

…Only for Bastilla to immediately open fire first and was shortly joined by the Knight Scion, taking care of that issue.

“Well, I hope that answers any doubts you have,” Daniel said.

Bastilla Char
Unknown Desert


He was taken aback by how calm the other Newtype was. And when he had joined in, killing the pitiful mass of flesh and eyes, it had reassured him somewhat. The cultist (he was still holding on to the fact that he was, even if more of what he said was starting to appear true) and his Man-Machine seemed formidable. Very heavily armed, and with weapons which he was not familiar.

"What the shit? That was insane. That thing was- was crazy! Was that a frickin' alien? Ah man and we totally incinerated that thing, christ almighty."

He used the back of his gloved hand to wipe a sheen of sweat that had formed on his face. He was dripping with it, due not only to the stress of the situation but the heat of the desert. He unzipped his airtight pilot suit letting it fall down to his sides. His undershirt was stained with grime.




"I- Yeah. I think that was good enough proof to convince me something crazy is going on..."

He clasped his hands behind his heads, leaned back further, and closed his eyes. This was a lot to take in at once. Alternate Universe, Aliens, Cultists, and the fact that he was already run ragged before he awoke here. Whatever had taken here had clearly not given him the benefit of rest as he could feel how tired he was, wishing only to lay back and drift into slumber. But clearly, the situation was too volatile for that. He stifled a yawn.

"So I'm in. Let's get this done. Help those people. All that."

William Liam Tinmall
<<<Ø>>>
Once again, the dimensional anomaly and our weird luck had given another member to this weird team.
Looking at the machine, it had the most complex design from a mechanical point of view, almost as if the entire frame was supposed to bend in half to allow for a transformation.
Liam sighed at the idea: rare and difficult to produce without straining the frame, transforming suits were never his favorite, as they were, ironically, less flexible to work with.
The Zero-point energy reactor was too heavy to be fitted into the X300 frame, something he said multiple times to his superiors but was never heard, so he moved on from the awkward project, a little annoyed by the waste of time.

He was pulled from his tangent by the stranger's, Bastilla Char, reaction to his own suit specifically.

While not uncommon that the Null was recognized due to how widespread the OS was, it was peculiar that a man from another dimension heard the name.
This was curious, he had to talk to this man, even more now that he made the comment about how cult-like Valren sounded...






The... thing was horrifying: A mass of flesh with no sense, in constant apparent pain, moving almost as if to spite what was alive.
Not even Franz would want to study this abomination.

Pulling out the waste collector, Liam hurled, vomiting what was left of his breakfast at the sight of Bastilla and Valrin execution, scared out of his mind that this was going to be the fist of many, many creatures like this.

War on a total scale with this? No wonder Valrin acted like such a zealot.

'I need to adjust the output of the beam rifle... Maybe a shotgun configuration? A continuous beam? He said that nothing should remain but I have no weapon fit for such damage... Great Scott I can't think about it or I'll just throw up again...'

He was not prepared, this was not what he sighed up for...
How can people deal with this?

Once more, Kazuki found himself eerily and silently hyper-absorbed into the matter at hand: To analyze the placement and the patterns of the corruption attempting to limit test and figure out an exact route to proceed upon, as well as pierce through the corruption with his mystical vision to glimpse at the psi prints of any survivors inside. And yet again, his attention was sufficiently torn away from the matter at hand. He would have properly greeted the newcomer were the situation a tad bit calmer, but there was simply no time and effort to spare.

Analyzing the massive and nonsensical mess that was the corrupting aura proved to be a daunting task, but one Kazuki wasn't backing down from in spite of the new interferences. It was quite necessary on his perception. As soon as the new machine's rifle flashed like lighting off the holster and the knight scion made their offensive move against the nonsensical torment meshed together into the shape of a blob, he would make sure to note their reactions and trains of thought for future reference in the background.

But for now... He resumed to focus on his scouting attempt. A perfect result was perhaps too much to ask for, but it was better than rushing in blindly.

 

[sir_fire]

I believe the ancient Terran quote was along the lines of "I told you so", but that seemed hardly necessary.
But it would certainly be a good stick to beat over his head should he try and repeat. Dense skulls tended to need an arbites's attention more carefully and diligently than most after all.
So instead I joined my fire to Bastilla's, the Lighting Cannon, Plasma Fusil, and rad cleanser opened up in unison.
Ignus seemed to be more than willing, pushing more power than necessary for the attacks, seeming to take far more issue with the corrupted metal underneath the warpspawn.

But now with this major section of the hull pulled away, Ignus's Empyreal PreySight allowed me a far better look at the inside, and if I was correct about position, I should be just in range to see the outside hull of the subbridge, with the drive casings disconnected and no longer blocking the view with massive plasma interfere directly in the way.

"As I said before, ignore any whispers. What that was is simply the begining of abominations the Warp can spit out. "

Suddenly Valren's vox picks up another transmission from the sub-bridge, this one on a different frequency; still an open Imperial one but nevertheless, it's not the crew's distress call on repeat.

"Is... Is anyone out there? We heard the discharge of weaponry even through all this Adamantium and our uh... Junior Magos' auspexes have detected a burst of radiation and electromagnetic energy by the shipwreck that matches those produced by titan-scale weaponry."

If the crew is sending this over the vox net, without even trying to confirm if it is loyalist or traitor who is listening, then they truly are consigned to their fate.

 

[Sigismund]

Suddenly Valren's vox picks up another transmission from the sub-bridge, this one on a different frequency; still an open Imperial one but nevertheless, it's not the crew's distress call on repeat.

"Is... Is anyone out there? We heard the discharge of weaponry even through all this Adamantium and our uh... Junior Magos' auspexes have detected a burst of radiation and electromagnetic energy by the shipwreck that matches those produced by titan-scale weaponry."

If the crew is sending this over the vox net, without even trying to confirm if it is loyalist or traitor who is listening, then they truly are consigned to their fate.

The channel is clear so I focus upon it and isolate it, so no other Knight who hasn't noticed it will hear me or them. Better to confirm some things separately with the survivors. Best know if there is a Greater Deamon aboard and if they must be steeled.

"The Omnissiah has heard your pleads and has sent us to answer ! If you are crused with such knowledge, do you know the composition of the abominations that are at the outside of your hull? We are currently entering the Cruiser via a split in the Drive housings, a full banner strong as the Omnissiah saw fit"

 

[sir_fire]

The channel is clear so I focus upon it and isolate it, so no other Knight who hasn't noticed it will hear me or them. Better to confirm some things separately with the survivors. Best know if there is a Greater Deamon aboard and if they must be steeled.

"The Omnissiah has heard your pleads and has sent us to answer ! If you are crused with such knowledge, do you know the composition of the abominations that are at the outside of your hull? We are currently entering the Cruiser via a split in the Drive housings, a full banner strong as the Omnissiah saw fit"

There is a gasp on the other line, the speaker clearly in disbelief that a servant of the Emperor was speaking to him right now and a short pause as he collects himself before responding in a breathy, quivering tone.

"Emperor be praised... He has listened to our prayers... R-Right then Lord Princeps, the abominations plaguing our once proud vessel should be of the lesser variety, the dregs of the chaos wastes due to our Gellar Fields failing at only the very last moment of transit. But I fear that our situation is far worse as the last Gray Knight aboard, a Techmarine has not responded to our vox hails ever since he departed for the Enginarium to scuttle the ship after our Magos and his fellow adepts had gone silent and ever since our Astropath had to be euthanized after the warp had stolen his mind and soul, we've no other means of contacting him... Please, if you do find him or what remains, stay on guard; whatever creature had bested Techmarine Laurentius is one that should not be taken lightly."

If either Kazuki, Bastilla, or Valrin would brave the miasma covering the ship and look towards the part of the ship past the engines, they would find a single mote of shining silver light amidst the murkiness, far brighter than the twinkling specks that represented the sub-bridge crew... One that is rapidly contracting and winking as if in grave distress; Laurentius lives, but barely.

 

[Garuga]

Lightning flashed above Akira setting warning alarms off in his head. He looked up to see a colossal metal figure looming over him. For a moment all he could do was stare. He had thought that the Getter Robo was massive, but this thing dwarfed it by several times. In a flash, he jumped back into the mecha, not even bothering to close the cockpit as he yanked on the sticks, doing his best to get it to move. But to his dismay it remained still, powered down and silent in the dirt. He had to make a quick decision or else he might die. The Getter Robo was out of commission and he could very well be dead in a moment.

His mind flashed back to earlier in his life. Around twenty years ago, fighting against the she-bitch Sirene. Despite his strength, the fight had been close enough that it was unclear for the majority of the battle who would come out on top. When it seemed like he had won, and he had struck her down, she fused with her subordinate and redoubled her efforts. At that time he was weak enough that had she been able to she would have easily finished him off. He could vividly remember how he felt moments before he lost consciousness. The overwhelming dread that looming death brought. He had survived, due to the fact that the hybrid creature had died itself moments before it struck.

That very same fear welled up inside him again. But unlike then, when he was inexperienced and afraid, he now had twenty years of experience. A lifetime of death and rage and violence. Countless eternity's spent suffering in Hell. He was NOT the same Devilman he was as a boy. Despite having the physical form of his younger self his mind was trained and honed for fighting. The strength he had forged in the fires of Satan's kingdom returned to him, and in a flash, he transformed to his devilish state.

He leaped into the air, black wings flapping rapidly as he ascended to the level of the metal creature. Meeting its gaze, he floated in place, his arms crossed and his face locked into a determined expression. His voice boomed with authority.

"Watashi o koroshitaidesu ka? Watashi wa jigoku no hi o ikinobimashita! Anata ga tatakai o shitai nonara,-sō shite kudasai. Demo, yoroshikereba riyū o o kiki shitai to omoimasu." (Do you wish to kill me? I have survived hellfire! If you wish to do battle so be it. But if I may, I'd like to ask the reason.)

His eyes burned with the heat of a thousand flames as he glared into the eyes of Uzahra. If he could not use the Getter's strength he would rely on his own power. The power he had earned through sheer strength of will.

Huh? That was… odd, it must be his eyes fooling him. The scanners have just picked a second, albeit smaller signal speeding towards the head of the deity. Was this some kind of trick from the Getter machine? What the hell was he supposed to do? He was never taught how to handle this kind of tactic back in the day.

Suddenly the computer picked up some speech coming from Akira Fudo, the dialog of course made it to the computer. The words themselves weren't that of the conventional English speaking language, puzzling the prince a bit. What or who was speaking to him, was that signal actually a pilot?

"U-uzahra…" He was trembling a bit, the prince was timid of course, this might possibly be the first time he has ever encountered a human since the age of Atlantis. "P-project on the computer what the Uzahra is picking up… please?" He requested, an audible gulping was heard from him.

As soon as he saw Devilman, he jumped back horrified, his blood running cold. Was that a human? How long has he been unconscious? It would be a lie if he wasn't a bit intrigued, but it was a bit hidden by the trembling figure. He pressed a button, recording both his voice and translation for the… human to understand.

"Īe Īe Īe! Watashi wa tada hanashi o suru tame ni koko ni imasu! Watashi o shinjite, Dare mo tatakaitakunai!"

(No no no! I'm just here to talk! Trust me, no one wants to fight!)

He told Akira frantically, trying his best to avoid conflict with the Devilman.

 

[sippinggp]

Akira Fudo
Somewhere in the Alps

Huh? That was… odd, it must be his eyes fooling him. The scanners have just picked a second, albeit smaller signal speeding towards the head of the deity. Was this some kind of trick from the Getter machine? What the hell was he supposed to do? He was never taught how to handle this kind of tactic back in the day.

Suddenly the computer picked up some speech coming from Akira Fudo, the dialog of course made it to the computer. The words themselves weren't that of the conventional English speaking language, puzzling the prince a bit. What or who was speaking to him, was that signal actually a pilot?

"U-uzahra…" He was trembling a bit, the prince was timid of course, this might possibly be the first time he has ever encountered a human since the age of Atlantis. "P-project on the computer what the Uzahra is picking up… please?" He requested, an audible gulping was heard from him.

As soon as he saw Devilman, he jumped back horrified, his blood running cold. Was that a human? How long has he been unconscious? It would be a lie if he wasn't a bit intrigued, but it was a bit hidden by the trembling figure. He pressed a button, recording both his voice and translation for the… human to understand.

"Īe Īe Īe! Watashi wa tada hanashi o suru tame ni koko ni imasu! Watashi o shinjite, Dare mo tatakaitakunai!"

(No no no! I'm just here to talk! Trust me, no one wants to fight!)

He told Akira frantically, trying his best to avoid conflict with the Devilman.

"Anata ga tatakaitakunainara, anata no robo o chakuriku sa sete, watashi ni hito kara hito e atte kudasai!" (If you don't want to fight land your robo and meet me man to man!)

His voice boomed. The power of authority, the feeling of confidence, and the overwhelming strength of will he once had. It all returned in an instant. He had lapsed into the old Akira, before, crying to himself. He let himself grieve for a moment, something he had not been able to do during the war nor during his eternity in Hell. But now was the time for power. For will. To enforce his flaming presence on the world and find Him once more. If God were so sick as to give him, the man with the body of a demon, a second chance... Then it was possible he had given his fallen angel a second chance as well.

The man, or boy if his demeanor was anything to go by, seemed scared. He didn't blame him. The first time he had seen himself, the visage he took on in the form, he was scared too. Scared of himself. Scared of his power. it was only natural to fear a creature such as himself. He wanted the man to disembark so he could meet him face to face. If the pilot was friendly, he would apologize. If not, he would deal with him.

"Watashi mo tatakaitakunai nodesuga, anata ga watashi o kyōsei surunara, watashi wa tatakaimasu." (I don't want to fight either, but I will if you force me to.)

He stayed level with the towering mecha, and if it came to the ground, so would he.

 

[Sigismund]

There is a gasp on the other line, the speaker clearly in disbelief that a servant of the Emperor was speaking to him right now and a short pause as he collects himself before responding in a breathy, quivering tone.

"Emperor be praised... He has listened to our prayers... R-Right then Lord Princeps, the abominations plaguing our once proud vessel should be of the lesser variety, the dregs of the chaos wastes due to our Gellar Fields failing at only the very last moment of transit. But I fear that our situation is far worse as the last Gray Knight aboard, a Techmarine has not responded to our vox hails ever since he departed for the Enginarium to scuttle the ship after our Magos and his fellow adepts had gone silent and ever since our Astropath had to be euthanized after the warp had stolen his mind and soul, we've no other means of contacting him... Please, if you do find him or what remains, stay on guard; whatever creature had bested Techmarine Laurentius is one that should not be taken lightly."

If either Kazuki, Bastilla, or Valrin would brave the miasma covering the ship and look towards the part of the ship past the engines, they would find a single mote of shining silver light amidst the murkiness, far brighter than the twinkling specks that represented the sub-bridge crew... One that is rapidly contracting and winking as if in grave distress; Laurentius lives, but barely.

An Omnisaiiah Blessed Grey Knight aboard?

"Copy, his signature is faint, but still there. Moving to intercept. Is your subbrudge hull able to hold for much longer, or will assistance be required before we can move inforce to the Enginarium?"

Moving into the Enginarium would be a very tight fit, and from what I had seen, none of the other Knights had apparent Melee Capabilities. Let alone any psychic attacks.
And while arrogance may be a killer, I really couldn't fathom something that has thusfar failed to kill a Techmarine Grey Knight, could somehow also take out 5 Knights, one of which was essentially a Grey Knight ... well Knight.

Which just made me more worried.

 

[Crimson Dragoon]

While the two psychics continued scouting with their sixth sense, with one communicating with the survivors, Daniel was on the lookout for any new potential threats, attempting to cover them while they were busy. He, along with the others, were entering the rent in the ship’s engine housings and it was indeed as confining as he thought once he actually saw what he was walking into. Daniel didn’t have the psionic sight some of the others possessed, but a more primal instinct told him worse things were ahead. An animalistic fear nudged at him, but he pushed it down. He couldn’t lose focus now, not when they’re already in this deep. An exhalation of breath followed, cooling his nerves. Something like this shouldn’t be getting to him. What exactly could be waiting for them within?