trans_9 | Reign of Destruction

In some places, the evacuation was still underway.

And in some, it had barely gotten started. Such was the case at Sunnyside Elders' Home, currently overtaken by organized chaos. Caretakers running from room to room, trying desperately to get people moving, move those who needed help without hurting them, and convince those stubborn few who just didn't see the point in leaving at their age anyway.

What they needed was time, but with Ohm Grenadiers lining up just down the street from the home, how much of it they had...well, that was another matter entirely.

Axl didn't have a real plan in mind once he got back from the reactor mission. Go, see where things looked bad, jump in was about the sum of it. But then he caught a glimpse of the building at the end of the street, people still helping each other outside --

-- and then he saw the acid-spitting bugs just a short distance down the road.

Well, I guess that settles that, he thought, running into the empty (but not for long) space between and checking on the guns he'd grabbed from Stacy earlier. Don't have my armor, don't have my own weapons. Two pistols and a sub-machine gun that I'll actually have to stop and reload if they run down, and my copy chip if I get close enough for melee... One of the bugs spat something onto the concrete in front of it, leaving a smoking hissing hole in the street. ...yeah, we'll save that as a last resort.

One of him, too many of them, and he had no idea if there was anybody else around who wasn't already neck-deep in it and unable to jump in.

Sure, piece of cake.

The Doctor was lost.

It wasn’t an unusual thing, really. I mean, it probably wouldn’t have been so frustrating if there weren’t these giant, insect-like creatures destroying everything in their path, and there weren’t people panicking and trampling one another and blocking the way to escape pods, but, you know.

So it was something of a relief when, as if on cue, a loudspeaker cracked on and blared over the sirens for only a moment—

||Attention all Veratech personnel: please report to the grid level for biannual maiiiiiiintenaggpoighavnshhhhhhhh…||

—And then it promptly fizzled into static. Oh but it was long enough—long enough for the Doctor to remember that map he’d seen on the Observation Deck, to recall the company name, to assess what this mysterious ‘grid’ was for and to plan a course of action. Yes, this must be the defense grid! Obviously the Ohm would’ve taken it out as soon as (if not well before) they landed, and by now they would be preoccupied with other places in the more crowded areas, so—so—

The Doctor, grim as the situation was, bore an open-mouthed grin as he ran for the beach. And, luckiest thing, there was a shuttle waiting for them. Veratech’s logo—he’d never actually seen it before, but it was obvious that this was what it was supposed to represent—was pasted boldly along the side. There was no one in the pilot seat, even though the large blood stain just outside the main hatch suggested that there used to be.

He bit his lip. Perhaps another representative would show up soon. Or, at any rate, someone who knew how to fly one of these things…

The sirens were loud, but the smoke spiralling upward from the building was even more of an evident sign of the situation. The shattering of glass could be heard as the heat and pressure from the flames inside got to be too much. The flames roared higher with each fresh rush of oxygen to further feed them. Screams and calls for help in amidst coughing from the increasing smoke levels could be faintly heard inside.

Dean had dropped off Sam so he could get to his ship. Now he was staring up at the building, assessing the predicament as one of the people briefed him.

"Shit, always wanted to be a fireman. Damn, here goes something." He glanced around as he grabbed a cloth to shield his face from the smoke. He could use the help, but he was only seconds away from charging in to get the remaining people out.

Earlier this week, Billy had visited the local adoption center. It did a good business, and the species there thrived under the care of the volunteers. Under ordinary circumstances, the pets would be going home with their new owners right at this time.

Unfortunately, many pets had been abandoned in the evacuation chaos. The lonely things had wandered the streets, crying out for caretakers who wouldn't be returning. Once again, the shelter had stepped in to gather the newly abandoned pets, but now all their lives were threatened.

Now, the Ohm are being held off from the route the shelter sits on. Lost animals with one eye and many legs are cowering in fear, curled close to the kind souls who refuse to let them die alone.

Billy refuses to let them die, full stop. Once he's sure that he's not needed elsewhere, he runs into the shelter with the intent of evacuating the volunteers and pets.

"Come on, you have to go! We can get you to the shuttles!"

"No, no, you must fight. We will remain here and keep our animals calm," assured one of the smaller volunteers.

"Please come with us! There's plenty of room, just hurry!" This, Billy realizes, is going to be a long argument unless he starts dragging them out. Don't they have survival instincts?

It's clear that he alone can't do this.

The fight is still going on, but Katara knew better than to dawdle around looking for fights: as strong as she was, she was needed HERE, where she could look over people. Luckily for her, she wasn't alone: there were several people that had the same idea, so they'd settled near a spot where the evacuees were boarding the ships to leave. Some people were easier than others: bruises, scrapes, fainting and minor hysteria that Lauri had been able to calm down so they could board the ship.

But not everyone was that lucky. There were some people that had been hit by debris from the Ohm, there were those that had been struck by other panicked evacuees and been run over. Those people were cut up pretty badly, and she was glad that some of the experienced doctors had the things they needed to patch them up. Unfortunately, the injuries were starting to get worse and that wasn't all. Now the people who were actually fighting the Ohm were showing up, they did not get away with barely a scratch. Now she was starting to see familiar faces.

It was time for the medic staff to really get to work.

Cursing--foully--Yoshimi rends another Grunt limb from limb, emphasizing each loss of appendage with another slurry of untranslatable Japanese, because of all. the. times. to leave her gun and gauntlets on-board, she just had to pick this one.

For this reason, she's working with bare hands and considerable skill in the martial arts, and hey, she's moving pretty quickly through the amassed horde surrounding the hospital, but she's gonna need some help here soon to keep all the sick people from getting dead. And maybe a gun or two.

"" And crack goes that one's carapace, it's head flung several meters in the opposite direction.

The dragon darted low over the streets and between buildings rapidly. Markings glowing bright, alive with energy as she sought to keep the ohm at bay from the large group of evacuees now heading toward the space port. The raised roadway the Evacuees had chosen to take giving them a small respite from the Ohm for the moment. Or so it seemed...

Until psychic lances of energy struck down from above, aimed ahead of the group. Cutting straight through the surface of the bridge and into the ground below, fortunately not entirely cutting off the roadway. Celena's gaze snapping to the swarm of incoming Shrikes that threatened to cut off the evacuees from the space port. She would not let that happen under her watch.

Snapping wings wide she swooped up, markings flaring as she propelled herself toward the oncoming wings of Shrikes, putting herself between them and the civilians below even as she put out a call both Telepathically and over the comms.

-- I've got swarm of Shrikes threatening southern evacuation route. I'll keep them busy, any assistance would be appreciated --

Even as she sent the message she was forced to roll, narrowly avoiding one of the psychic lances.

The problem with having a weapon of choice the size of a building is that it doesn't work so well within the bounds of a non-Zoid friendly city.

But luckily, not all of the Ohm are in the city. Ohm are taking up siege positions outside, where there's enough open ground for him to move. It's a perfect equation. Vega's been itching to do something useful for the longest time, and he finally has his chance.

And the Berserk Fury is all too happy to be going with him on this.

<< This is Vega! Anyone who can fight with tanks and firebugs and stuff, there's a whole bunch of 'em coming up on the north side of the city! I'm taking the Berserk Fury out to fight them and could use a hand! >>

The siege party's front line is made up of tanks, with the even more massive firebugs following behind and some smaller types at their feet. The tanks are there to protect the firebugs from attempted melee, and the firebugs are there to use their ranged abilities to clear the way. Their job as they advance is to prevent any on-foot escapes and round everything into the "kill zone" of the city.

Vega strafes along the front with the Fury's boosters, his Zoid's small beam cannons firing at the tanks. They just leave scorch marks on the heavy armor. He's looking for a way in close, so he can do some real damage. The firebugs keep him from staying anywhere for very long at this range.

attack on the old folks' home!

Repairing the Defense Grid!

FIRE

Animal rescue, go!

Makeshift Medical

Let's Keep The Sickies Alive, Yeah?