(This is amazing Serpion. I love how you have tailored each encounter to the character's skills instead of a random set of objectives. Onward!)
Decades in life. How many? Who knew now. Many more years after life, and during what came after.
That's how long Thermopylae had been fighting, killing, defending. The War in Heaven, the Great Rebellion, none of it came close to this. Never had she been caught so flat-footed.
High-rank channels were filled with data packets indicating the aid they were receiving was from Anrakyr the Traveler. She had heard the name Anrakyr. Packets also indicated that enemy command elements had taken the field as well.
Her job was not a glorious one, but a necessary one. Safeguard the firing lines and make sure nothing broke through, and issue commands. As important as the job was, it was somewhat unfulfilling; She longed to join the fight herself. She had yet to see a human even attempt a close-quarters confrontation, content to play a war of attrition from range. She continued guiding her Immortals, but their numbers were decreasing.
Where exactly WAS this Anrakyr?
A fluttering movement caught her attention, something distinctly out of place. She magnified, and discovered what appeared to be a command banner. Beneath it, she could clearly discern a highly decorated human surrounded by heavily armed guards. So the reports were accurate, she thought to herself.
Her orders were to guard the firing line, but the firing line was so thin it was almost broken anyway and there was nothing she could do to prevent it. She pondered on an old saying; "Bravery makes both heroes and fools". The advancing tides of fleshy humans would slowly wear them down before proper aid could get to them, but she had this one chance to potentially disrupt or even break the enemy. To do so would technically break her orders, but if her bravery did in fact make a fool of her, she would likely not survive to see the repercussions anyway.
Besides, it was act, or wait to be shot once the firing line fell apart.
Nemreth and Mahariae could hold this section of the line. It was time to ply the skill that had earned her fame and position in the first place: Killing. With an electronic battlecry, she flung herself over the hastily erected fortifications. Her six Immortals charged behind her, their colossal crunching footsteps thudding to the ground, their long strides audible even over the din of battle. Standing between her and the commander was the firing line that had been whittling them away for hours; Now it was her turn.
Several humans panicked, and with a cry of terror, attempted to flee at the approach of the colossal metal warriors. They were shot in the back by the advancing Immortals, and Thermopylae had just enough time to register the fear and shock on the rest of their faces as she dove into them. Her blades flashed to life.
They were quick, but not quick enough; They attempted to scatter, but Thermopylae became a whirling storm of blades. She brought her fist down, impaling one human and pinning him to the ground, and pulled him back up. She grasped him by the foot with her other arm and flung him into his comrades. She whipped around and eviscerated another, who was fumbling with his weapon to get it pointed at her, and at this point the Immortals thudded into the trench with her. One landed on a terrified guardsman and crushed him instantly, and the slow, heavy arcs of their bayonets finished off the stragglers. They were slow and clumsy, but they got the job done.
She had done an excellent job of attracting attention; She spied the Commander's position, with many humans rushing to the location, suddenly sensing their vulnerability. If she was to act, it would be now, before they could set up a proper defense.
She rushed forward again, her immortals plodding along behind her, and despite the humans' appropriate reaction, it was not in time to form a defensive line and extract their commander. She spied a craft coming down behind them; She suspected it contained more reinforcements, or perhaps an extraction for their now-endangered commander. She did not have time to ponder on it long however, as she suddenly felt a searing heat and saw a blinding flash.
She dove to one side, and found the most remarkable thing about the entire thing is that she had not heard
the shot. She looked behind, to see one Immortal almost completely melted, headless with half its torso a molten mess. Its sparking form collapsed forwards and the edges of its molten wounds twitched as it attempted to repair itself.
She looked back towards the defenders; One of them had an enormous rifle leveled at them, its barrel glowing brilliant orange and heat discharging. He pulled back to let his weapon recharge, but another replaced him, and attempted once more to shoot her.
She rolled to one side, and felt the ground next to her explode from the heat. Molten chunks of rock rained down on her; His rifle also spent, the human pulled back to let it recharge. She knew any normal Necron would have been completely unable to dodge and destroyed instantly, and reminded herself to thank Mithrahc once more if they survived for allowing her such a large allowance for customization.
She knew they only had two of those weapons, but was unsure what the other two did. Deciding they would likely spend their heaviest ordnance to stop her, she leapt forward and was instantly blinded.
She and her Immortals were engulfed in flame, gouts of raging fire being spewed forth from the weapon of the other guard. Fire was of little threat unless she was forced to remain in it. Though she could not see it, two of the immortals that remained were scrambled, their still-recovering holes from weapons fire being openings into sensitive equipment that the roiling flames made short work of.
There were only two options; Advance, or retreat. She had come too far and sacrificed too many soldiers to fall back now; Through the wall of flame was the only option. She charged forwards, simply moving in the direction that felt uphill.
The two humans with the powerful heat rifles were ready to fire once more. She could hear the commander barking orders to them, and the gouts of flame stopped. They had their weapons readied, but it was too late. The flames stopped, and four burning Necrons were now mere meters from their commander.
Thermopylae registered some minor damage; Certain parts were not meant to withstand such intense heat. Her phylactery would handle the damage; Her reinforced frame was satisfactorily resistant to their flame weapon.
Her immortals had not been so lucky. Of the three that survived, one was twitching erratically. They hurled themselves at the humans, and they fired their heat rifles in panic, both shots missing completely. They dropped their weapons and pulled metal knives from their jackets. Thermopylae briefly pondered how small they looked.
The Immortals threw themselves into the fray, the veteran human warriors quickly doding the heavy swings of the cumbersome Necron Immortals, but unable to inflict any real damage. One leapt onto an Immortal's back and was attempting to wedge his knife between its head and its neck; The Immortal shook itself back and forth, attempting to throw its attacker off.
Thermopylae concerned herself with the Commander. She could not discern his entire armament, but he appeared to only be armed with a pistol. Did these humans not even outfit their leaders with proper weaponry? She leapt towards him, and he reared back to punch her. Why would he opt for unarmed combat whilst holding a weapon?
The powerfist connected squarely in Thermopylae's chest, and she was flung backwards. Flashing lights and flickering panels filled Thermopylae's vision. What had just happened? She registered massive impact damage to her frontal armor; Did he possess some kind of inertial perpetuator that strengthened his attacks?
She quickly rolled to her feet, and the commander opened fire. The projectiles slammed into her with little effect, the small explosions not able to penetrate her thickened hull, and she advanced upon him. He reared back to swing once more, but she was prepared. She spun to one side, and the blow went straight past her. The commander stumbled forwards with the weight of the blow, and Thermopylae saw her opening. She brought her elbow down on his back and heard a sickening snap. The commander fell forward, his now inert legs unable to hold him.
He rolled onto his back, agony etched into his face, along with something else... Determination? Thermopylae had to give him credit; His will did not break, even when faced with impending death. If only will could save his life.
With a metallic roar, she brought her fist straight down into his chest. The blade sank into his rib cage, and he gasped. He sputtered, coughing droplets of blood, and brought his pistol up with one trembling arm. She watched as the life drained from his eyes, and the arm fell limply to the ground, the weapon clattering uselessly against the rocks.
Her immortals were finishing off the remaining bodyguards. Though they had admittedly impressive weapons, they were frail. She clutched her broken chestplate; She might have won, but the damage to her armor was severe. However, bravery had not made her a fool today; She stood scorched, dented, and pockmarked with the impacts of small arms fire, but she stood nonetheless. She rolled the commander onto his stomach, grabbed the back of his collar, and hoisted the lifeless corpse into the air for all to see. It was both a trophy, and a warning.
(Wanted to make a good first post. I promise they won't all be mini-novels
Also, I have never been part of Serpion's roleplays before, so I have no idea what kind of ship he runs. If anything I have posted is forbidden I will gladly edit.)