Warzone Resurrection Battle Report
The Dark Legion had Vince Diamond’s retinue surrounded on a Cerean outpost. Using the element of surprise, A Razide aims a shot at the Eradicator, hoping to rob Cybertronic of its fire platform and enable the slaughter they so desire. The shot pings off the shiny carapace, ricocheting into the Belter’s sky. The Eradicator’s sensors come on line, its core firing up with an oddly human-sounding groan and Diamond’s forces are alerted. Laser sights spring from everywhere, finally triangulating on the origin point of the shot. Sophisticated programming and top-of the line hardware move the meat into position.
Leading a squad of Chasseurs, Vince Diamond runs forward, his unit in tow. No words are spoken as the orders are given, but with a hive-mindedness, the Cybers train their weapons in the direction of their attacker, hiding in a bombed out building. They maneuver as insects might, scuttling, leaping and skulking around corners to gather intel on the attacker.
Leading the charge, Diamond draws his machine gun and opens fire. His Unblinking Eye telling him there is a target in range, by its bulk, He judges it to be Legion. Vince switches off his broadcast for a moment to allow his meatbrain to process what the sensor just told him. The wetware resumes control in under a second. He is a Diamond. He is the hardest thing in the Solar System. He fears nothing except losing viewers and shares. In the rush to draw and the panic in his meatbrain, Vince’s shots go wild. His Chasseurs follow the Diamond, knowing that there is nothing to fear. The volley of fire grazes the Razide’s trigger hand.
An unearthly scream, like a lion’s roar played at quarter speed, issues forth from the beast. It is only later that the survivors realize they heard nothing. The Razide screamed psychically, overwhelming their resistance with its pain and tricking the meat into thinking it heard something.
The Razide regains its dark intelligence, caging the bestial urge to rush into combat and tear the Shinies apart in a rain of ichor and lubricant, the cold logic of the void brings with it realization that the attackers who dared fire upon it were not priority. They would die soon enough. Now, there were easier pickings.
Scenting the winds of the asteroid’s thin atmosphere, the Razide smelled something delicious. Fear. Much as the Shinies tried to pride themselves on clinical efficiency, they, the legion were the originators and perfectors of cybernetics. The cables controlling and stabilizing its gun arm slackened, allowing the Razide to call the Symmetry through its implant and its body. Aiming carefully, the Razide prayed to the apostles in the dark tongue, asking for the aid of its master Algeroth in the destruction of the chasseurs squad still gathering their weapons. The Razide fires upon them, taking down their rocket specialist. The explosion is spectacular as the Nazgaroth round tears effortlessly through steel and flesh, shredding servos and crushing bone. The round buries itself in the bunker behind the detonated mechacorpse. The Legion celebrates their blooding of the foe, ululating their thanks and prayers to Algeroth in an unholy cacophony.
The Razide nods to the Centurion astride the necrobeast readying the mount to charge and slaughter these arrogant ones who claim the darkness without its permission. No sooner do the spurs sink into the beasts side than a volley of fire and flame reduce both mount and rider to cinders. The Eradicator has spoken. None dare challenge it’s cold logic. There is no celebration, no prayer to the maker, merely target reacquisition.
Having witnessed the annihilation of his lieutenant, the Nepharite Rogokith unstraps his Fist of Malice. Unloading from the opposite side of the field on the Chasseurs who are now readied for battle. Having inspected their compatriot’s weapon and found it unuseable, the squad turns to see its leader’s outsretched arm torn asunder but the wicked bullets of the Fist. When the firing stops, the implants try to drive the meat forward, but without the core and its meatbrain support, the corpse shuffles aimlessly past its killer, who rends free a souvenir on the way by, laughing and barking orders to the Behemoth in front of him.
The Machinator, evaluating threats and assessing options, advances to cover in the bunker. Analyzing the bullet lodged in the wall, the Machinator’s programming recognizes the threat. The enemy will overextend. There is no discipline with these entities. Course of action: assume position, ambush when the enemy presses his advantage. Decapitate the beast.
The Behemoth, hearing its master’s call laughs with glee. One hand scratching its massive rear end as it advances up the hill, using the other three to ready the Decimator. The thought of lobbing a heavy shell at the Eradicator to show it what a real beast can do, but the mission is clear. The Decimator must live up to its name. Body count is priority. Firing into Diamond’s squad, the hand cannon mows down 2 Chasseur, the meat groaning while the servos continue their work, eventually working themselves free, machine and man finally separated, for all eternity. Having seen the skulking machine trying to hide in the bunker, the Behemoth lobs a chunk of concrete from the nearby barrier, the machine deftly avoids the debris.
The remaining chasseurs who have taken heavy casualty switch over to aggression protocol, moving into position to reclaim their defensive advantage.
The element of surprise now wasted, the Eradicator acquires a new target. The wounded Razide. Before the abomination of the Symmetry can react, flames rain down. The trace copper in the Cerean atmosphere turning the gouts of flame a pleasant green. The necrotechnology lacing its body saves the Razide from the fire. With a defiant roar, the Razide stands, but the incoming rockets cut the howl short. The psychic echo is heard, but the source is no longer identifiable as anything but a smear on the landscape.
The second Razide follows the will of its dark master. While the Eradicator is distracted by its fellow, the Nazgaroth fires up, a greenish glow emanating from within the weapon. The will of the Razide forces the rounds out, missing Diamond, but felling three of his troopers in showers of sparks and gouts of blood.
The survivors in the squad return fire, but distracted but the death throes of their comrades and the static of their dying comms, the shots run errant, leaving the Razide open for another volley. A triumphant howl rings through the meatbrains as the ululations of the Legion take the air once more.
In its excitement, the Behemoth fires upon the damaged Chasseurs near the bunker. The adrenaline and necrotech fire simultaneously, the Decimator’s throaty bark shreds the air in its volley. The squad dodges and covers, surviving the onslaught. The tide has turned against the Legion and the battlefield falls silent except for the quiet whir of high-end electronics.
The Chasseurs, emboldened by their continued survival, move into position and fire upon the remaining Razide. Despite the loss of their leader and heavy weapon, the squad sends the Razide to the turf with a well-placed round to the chamber of the Nazgaroth. The resulting explosion is visible from Cybertronic headquarters on the dark side of the asteroid.
In increasing desperation, the Nepharite Calls the Corruption, save his mission. Muawihje had a hand in this. The Lord of Madness was teaching his elder brother a lesson, but Rogokith would not go quietly. Knowing the Behemoth would draw the fire of the remaining Shinies, Rogokith would try to keep his creature alive long enough to make sure Diamond wasn’t.
Seeing the tide turning, the Enhanced Machinator’s protocols dictated taking cover to weather the oncoming storm, and being in position to deliver the coup de grace.
The Behemoth, seeing his Kohort laid low, fires like a thing gone mad. The shots are fierce and fast, but wild and futile. The howls of the beast no longer inspire terror. Concentrating their fire, the Cybertronic squads down the beast while Rogokith seeks cover.
Round 4 and beyond
Knowing that the Legion would not stop with the small sortie they had just survived, Cybertronic’s forces retreat to call reinforcements. Leaving the Enhanced machinator behind to recover the experimental tech, Vince ordered the rollout.
Propaganda films would show the day of Rogokith’s defeat, but Diamond knew he was still out there, lurking, plotting. His hardware wrote off Rogokith. Vince had bested him once, it would happen again if they met evenly matched. His meatbrain knew that they would never meet again on even terms.
When Rogokith returned, it would be with overwhelming force. As they made for HQ, Vince could feel Rogokith lurking, stalking even though the day was lost. He had joined Cybertronic to eliminate these fears. But the Legion, just doesn’t die.