Lirath - Ground Battle

[cityship]

 After dropping off some of the crew at Balisair, it was time for the crew to set course for Lirath. The situation greeting them wasn't the most promising.

The cracked surface of the moon called Lirath was one of its most unmistakeable features. One of the three moons of the planet Kehoe, it had been terraformed and served as a settlement for a hundreds of different species, some humanoid, some not. Despite occasional class struggles, environmental issues, and speciesism blocking their way, the darker parts of Lirath's past were largely left behind, and an era of peace and tolerance had reigned for quite some time. The only problems they'd had recently were with a terrorist group whose cause for their actions had been a mystery, but they weren't tied to any particular species or social group and had been likened to a cult and had largely gone quiet in recent years.

Now the peace on the moon of Lirath had been shattered by the invasion of the Ohm.

The capital city had been destroyed. Now, all that was left of the peoples of Lirath was evacuating from one of its smaller cities, one known as Smyteval. A desert city, existing in a valley in between a rocky range of canyons and mountains, even though it was in the low ground, the natural channels of rock served as bottlenecks for any Ohm attacking from the ground.

GIA squadrons patrolled in space, locked in explosive warfare, protecting the Bleed-gate that had been activated to see the evacuated ships to the refugee world, and a shield created by massively-powerful shield generators extended around the city and up into the atmosphere, creating a shielded tunnel so ships could escape.

Word had come that there was a vital weapon to be deployed on Lirath, one that needed to be destroyed, hence why the Transmigration 9 had been called in. Given the diverse crew, and the ships that were in its hangar, there was at least someone or something on board that could blow the weapon up if it did show.

There was no sign of it yet. Right now, there was just chaos, streams of evacuees boarding ships, armies of Ohm engaged with GIA soldiers outside the shields, and forcefields that everyone hoped would hold out just a little bit longer.

The crew would be following Leon's orders but finding themselves fighting side-by-side with GIA platoons, full of various species that were currently all getting their asses kicked severely.

[ooc: STAGE 1 is now open! Please do not tage STAGE 2 until it's announced as open as well.]

[ooc: STAGE 2 is now open!]

Comments

[catastrotastic.livejournal.com]

Most of the cultists were forced to abandon their weapons, thanks to Tim's disks. Unfortunately, they were still armed, pulling out all manner of melee weapons. They rushed towards the two combatants, slowed by Soren's spell but pushing forward with enough fervor to break free from the ice.

[battorch]

As far as Tim was concerned, that was an advantage-- he knew they wouldn't be stopped that easily, of course. But close range combat was his own expertise. And while he didn't want to see any of the cultists dead-- he watched the magic being used for that reasons-- he was perfectly okay with harming them to get them to stand down.

"Focus on those that still have fire arms," Tim shouted to the magic-user. Not quite an order tone, but firm enough. "Disabling their advantage should be a priority." As he explained that, he lashed out with his staff, on those nearest to him, aiming for the forearms with a strong blow.

[facepunching.livejournal.com]

"What's that?" Soren asked, tone caustic (yep, he'd totally taken Tim's tone to be an order). "Weapons are dangerous? My, imagine that."

These cannon fodder were starting to annoy him. He could more than hold his own in a melee fight, but he'd prefer to take care of this as quickly as possible. A magically summoned storm rocked the area, sending targeted gale force winds and ice at the cultists that would shred them alive. Well, until they were dead.

It was time to aim for MVP take the kid gloves off.

[catastrotastic.livejournal.com]

A couple of the cultists were indeed shredded apart rather easily, but the sight of their comrades being torn apart like that didn't phase the others in the slightest.

Two of them made their way towards Soren, one rushing in to try and body check him. Meanwhile, the other three moved in towards Tim, the lead one carrying a rather large and vicious looking electrified knife.

[battorch]

"Can't say sarcasm helps much either," Tim commented, though he wasn't one to talk-- he did his fair share of snide comments. As Robin, it'd been part of his job to make jokes, he felt.

And then the storm rocked, and Tim was thrown off by the cultists being torn apart. "No," he managed out. Maybe they weren't innocents in this mess, but they were still sentients, still living. He'd still lost someone. He'd failed to help them. Because maybe they didn't deserve care, but they didn't deserve to die. "You didn't have to kill them, damnit!" Tim growled out, but he couldn't make a move toward him, couldn't do anything really, other than hold his own. Because these guys after him certainly meant business.

He kept his staff up in front of him, for the moment, ready to block any blows (at the hand, not the blade) that came his way. His cape and cowl had insulation, and he had the armour, but he wasn't exactly willing to give them a field test just yet. "Use non-lethal methods," he said, voice now approaching his order tone. "It's... more beneficial to us." The more practical answer won out. He could save morals for later.

He moved to knock the hand with the knife away, moving to aim a solid kick to the solar plexus of the one holding it.

[facepunching.livejournal.com]

The arrogance of these cultists was beyond belief -- although Soren probably had them beat out by a mile. Body-checking? Please. He was used to staring down dragons and generals with armor blessed by goddesses. Soren easily sidestepped the man's attack, tapping the cultist's back lightly as the man stumbled past. The man's body erupted into flames in an instant, leaving only a charred husk to fall to the ground, still as stone.

The second man he encased bodily in a block of ice. He could probably be thawed out later without too much damage. Probably.

"Didn't have to kill them?" Soren gave Tim a look that almost spoke of more disbelief than disdain. "What sort of faerie-tale life do you lead? This is war, and they are our opponents. Leave your attackers alive, if you wish; the consequences are yours to deal with."

Besides, they only needed one or two of them alive to interrogate later. Obviously, there was no reason to spare the lives of all the cultists here. Soren raised one of his staves into the air, flooding the area with soft blue-white light. A nearby burn victim began to heal rapidly even as he clutched his leg in pain.

[catastrotastic.livejournal.com]

The cultist carrying the knife went stumbling back, but didn't fall down even though he was momentarily disoriented. The other two rushed forward, using their comrade as a distraction, to try and tackle Tim to the ground.

[battorch]

"I know war when I see it, thanks," Tim growled. "I've been in war before. I know it can be mindless, that people die." He didn't want to be having a moral argument, not now. It was too much to be focused on, was going to throw him off balance. Not when he had to keep himself balanced emotionally, mentally and physically, stumbling back and ducking away from the cultists who used their own fellow as a distraction. So he wasn't going to let himself get too worked up about it, or give too many explanations. "But let's say that we don't understand these guys-- in my world, cult fanatics are often victims themselves." There was more to it than that, of course-- the value of life, the options. But this was a fight. And protecting people was the first priority, not lectures.

And he really had come into this knowing it wasn't likely he could save them all. He just had to damn well try.

Besides, he really did have his own fight to focus on. He lost part of his balance, but he didn't let himself fall much, instead forcing his staff out to help catch himself, working to turn the momentum-- and horizontally, aimed to take the two others hard in the stomachs.

[facepunching.livejournal.com]

Soren was busy maxing out his proficiency in staves healing bystanders who had been injured, by the cultists or otherwise.

"I don't particularly care if they are victims. They're in the way." Understanding them could be useful, of course, but only so far as forming better strategies to wipe them off the face of the earth.