War on Peace - RP

"we have sustained heavy casualties Federation fleet is in shambles require aid from Earth or anybody that can assist us, please my son continue on my legacy", as a transmission ends Mr. yashimora is baffled and depressed he then sits down looking at the floor of the ship deciding what to do."take off andbreak orbit, were going is in detail and save the Council and hopefully my species"! one of the crew and said to him, "what about Hawkins and others"? Mr. yashimora replied saying, "they wish to join us to help they can follow, take off at once"! as Mr. yashimora's chip takes off heads towards Zenitaia Hawkins knowing the situation he decides to join him on saving his people.

planet Zenitaia, orbit; coordinates: 18^h 52^m 51.06019^s, +45° 20′ 59.507

Mr. yashimora ship flying through what's left of the Galactic Federation fleet, he spots to scourge dreadnoughts in orbit with enemy fighters amongst them. "we have to make it planet side, fly through them as fast you can"! Mr. yashimora ordered the pilot as see gunned it as fast as he could put in all powers the shields and engines. Going almost mock 9 the unarmed ship races pass the two dreadnoughts and fighter escort, enemy fires hot of their tale can shot at they cut through the atmosphere there ship become ablaze. "Sir, shields are at 10% we take any more hits from those fighters were dead"! if the shields go down during reentry ship could break apart since unlike human space shuttles maggnoriyion race never built heat shields on their ships instead relying on the shields to do the job for them.

As enemy fighters cut through the atmosphere like a bullet through water to land some good hits on Mr. yashimora's transport ship and the shields go down! As the ship becomes a fireball, the crew three start to get cooked aliveness Mr. yashimora huddles in the fetal position in the back the ship. as the ship cools off now that skyscraper that will he looks out the not existing window as the ship tears apart around him seeing the city below him on fire giving a small but brief tear from his eye he braces for impact as the ship crashes into one of the tall skyscrapers on the 87 floor! knocked out but being okay Mr. yashimora lays unconscious in the burning wreckage inside the skyscraper.

Meanwhile

Intense fighting encompasses the globe as most of the major cities including the capital under heavy siege. Civilians being 83% of evacuated into safe underground shelters the remainder of the civilians scattered and hide for their lives as Zamol's Army puts up an intense and overwhelming resistance against the ground forces at the maggnoriyion race and their immortal knights.

gunships above support ground forces and intense battle to take back the capital as on the outskirts of the city the battle is being one maggnoriyion's favor. As the Council of the Galactic Federation is stuck in the safe room, a bunker like room located in the center of the Council building they await rescue from anybody that is willing to help.

"~Your goal is simple Ivan, destabilize the situation as much as possible. Ensure that the conflict is as long and bloody as possible. If possible, you are to retrieve a certain object of importance to our plans. I trust that you will not fail me, Ivan. Proceed with all due haste~" Those psychic words from Yuri's massive brain stuck in Ivan's young mind as the silent primalborn was teleported directly onto the planet by Epsilon's chrono-spacial technology. He would have preferred deploying with his sister, but as always he reminded himself that Yuri was beyond questioning or reproach. It was simpler to let the great Yuri Omega take care of such plans for him so that he could focus on the tactical issues. Another second went by and he had fully materialized on the world, unarmoured at the moment, but should the situation demand it his suits were always available with a simple thought

He was not here to make sure somebody won. Far from it. He was here to ensure that the blood flowed as long and freely as possible. The sight of a thirteen year old boy in an initiate outfit may have been a rather odd one to the first few defenders that spotted him; but he quickly alleviated their confusion regarding his presence by flinging a pair of his throwing knives through them. Willing their destructive power to be toned down, the knives made simple piercing wounds through vital organs, bringing them down quietly and efficiently as the divine steel sliced through their shielding, armour, and bodies as easily as they would cut through air.

With their duty done, Ivan summoned the thrown knives back to his hand, blood running slick on their surfaces as he dispersed into a cloud of thought to infiltrate another position; silencing them in turn as he went about the process of sowing friction and confusion in their military plans. Friction, a term appropriated by Clausewitz on everything that could possibly go wrong in a military operation. That is what Ivan was hoping to sow with his targeted killings. Destroying military assets, wiping out units needed for one operation or the other, causing panic and disarray. He moved swiftly, silently, looking intently for something important to damage. .

Someone else would have likely stopped and thought about the damage he was doing, someone else would have at least hesitated. The momentary, ephermal doubts in his mind flickering too and fro in his thoughts were temporary, fleeting things that he soon quashed. Yuri would not allow him to doubt, he thought as he climbed up on a mound of rubble to get a better vantage point for his eyes while his telepathics branched out to try and pick through the thoughts of an entire planet to find something worth listening to. Yuri needed him to be strong to make his better world for him. So he would be strong, he would be fearless, he would succeed.

Earth...

Umaka grunted a loud grunt as he ripped off a leg of boar from the fire he'd made. Out in the woods of Alaska, he had no need for civilization. Munching on it unhappily, he thought of what he'd do here on this new planet. Conquering it would be too easy. Killing everyone, too hard. Sighing, he turned toward the small, pod-like spacecraft that had brought him here, hearing a strange beeping from inside. Putting down the pig, he went inside and pressed a button to activate the communications.

"we have sustained heavy casualties Federation fleet is in shambles require aid from Earth or anybody that can assist us, please my son continue on my legacy" The communicator screeched as he immediately typed in the coordinates that were displayed on the screen. Normally he wouldn't jump to help people. But war was fun. And he could be rewarded, considered a war hero. So, now Umaka went- green muscles rippling as he piloted the spacecraft off the ground and into Earth's lower orbit, speeding toward planet Zenitaia.

Zenitaia...

Now, the Vulcanite stood on burning ground, sneering as he tightened a hand round his daggers. The ship had landed alright- however, he saw a ship that indeed did not. A ship that crashed into a huge skyscraper. Zenitaians? Perhaps. Or people to kill. Either way, he soon found himself running over to the scraper, digging his indestructible daggers into the tower's metal as he began to climb up. It was a long way- but after mutations, witch craft, and pure training, he went awfully fast.

Soon enough he found himself up and facing the crashed man inside of the ship. Narrowing his eyes, he saw that he was unconscious. Tightening his grip around the wreckage of the ship, he shook it violently in order to wake up the alien. "You from here?" He growled simply. Umaka wasn't one for many words.

@vamoose@haven_

40 Minutes Ago

"We have sustained heavy casualties Federation fleet is in shambles require aid from Earth or anybody that can assist us, please my son continue on mylegacy"

This message was something he never like to hear for ever it was.The message came from Zenitaia which might not be in the best shape right now .The VoidHawk was in the middle of space listening to the message while he finger out a plan.What he could do is contact Admiral @kon_vess and get the Ninith Fleet to the planet and help out.If that failed then he would go outside the box and use his friend's Marv connections with the Starforce or what ever it is called.For a minute he thought about the a plan , and then it hit him.Pyrrhus quickly got on the comms and transmitted a message .The message was , planet Zenitaia under attack ,need help defending it right away , here are the coordinates to the planet meet me there.The message was sent and now he would try to get the Admiral of the Ninth to join in but the admiral's hatred for pirates would be a problem.So what Star Captain Hawkins did send a message like the one he did and add a side note of the attackers being pirates.

Now

He made sure that the BlueHawk was in stealth mode now , making sure that the sensors on those ships could not detect him.The BlueHawk was floating in space far enough way that the fleet sensors could not detect him. He also made sure that the engines on just in case he had to move .could been seen by the blue and yellow paint job on it.Checking the him one more for any spot for him to sneak in but it would tough for him to do that and he still had sent the message to both Kon Vess and Marv and hope both of them would get the message and back him up.He did not like waiting but this case he had to , which would bug him until more help arrives.

@shadowswordmaster: @haven_:

Vamoose fluttered above the Champions of Peace's brobdingnagian Sanctuary, the prodigious, high-flown Brigadier gazed tirelessly the dimly-lit, nocturnal nightfall with pulchritudinous turquoise coruscation dwelling his eyes. His unwavering, statuesque demeanor enlightened marvelously by the absconding azure energy. A high-handed simper plastered across his equally supercilious countenance, curled lips permitting once concealed, alabaster teeth to excel stars in brilliancy. Life beneath was superfluous, rushing cars enslaving people. For a moment, he thanked for this dreadful existence of an unsettled soldier, despite never savvying anything else.

Twain constricted wrists clasped vigorously the amber helm, its burgundy emblazoned star-shaped symbol rebounding throughout his mind. It had lived through trenches, battlefields, tyrannical retaliations... A thorough mirror of his overwrought life. Now he halted reluctantly, accepting the rugged visage and fragile routine accompanying it. Marv craved for vivacity, a maelstrom to quake his monotonous routine. An oscillating man, to say the least, safeguarding galaxies via bulwark behavior whilst, underneath, he wished for more pronto.

The distress call alighted channeled by velvety zephyrs buffeting against his unyielding, ostensibly stoic pose. Intensified simper as he rapidly sent a message to Haven, transmitting the exact location to hone her unique skills farther. The stouthearted Vamoose skyrocketed forward, outranking the Light Barrier, instantaneously evanescing from sight, staggering abrasion fueling his armor's energy reserves. Breathtaking mileages rendered the boastful Marv Buscema more to brag about, rolling in few minutes ensuing the aforesaid scene.

Marv beamed the BlueHawk amicably, mesmerized by its mechanical beauty almost as majestic as a phosphorescent sun, dwindling his precious seconds by ghastly appreciating the vessel. Nodding in a greeting manner, he simpered sympathetically. "Heard the second most perfect person in the galaxy needed my aid. Glad to see ya again, Pyrr." Pausing whilst humorously tapping the ship's outer hull. "I see you equipped the Hawk pretty well, huh? What's the catch?" His words brandished a narrow buoyant tone, pursued by a lighthearted, jocose chortle. "Is it a good idea to bring in my apprentice, man? She is really terrific to watch... You will see." A high-spirited laughter left his well-humored lips bewildered, joshing the fact most men were enthralled by her untamed beauty. "Finally some action, eh?"

@umaka:

Waking up in a daze Mr. Yashimora stumbled over to the left, upon hearing, "You from here?" Mr. Yashimora replied, "ya.......yes", saying still in a daze. Mr. Yashimora then climbs out of the wreckage of whats left of his ship, battered and full of cuts already healing do to his healing abilities he replies, "where did i land?" upon getting out of the crash he almost fell off the skyscraper and answered his own question saying, "well.........shit", in a helpless ton, looking down seeing they where hundreds of floors up he asked the strange green brute behind him saying, "how did you get up here, because i cant fly".

Meanwhile

As the city burns from firefights happening all over the city maggnoriyion forces continue the clash with the scourge Army. As the maggnoriyion forces get push back from their defensive line's the immortal knights go on the offensive! Mechs and armored vehicles collide in a powerful counteroffensive from the maggnoriyion's, when hopes seemed lost the call for arms that Adm. Qatar sent out before things got ugly planet side was heard! Heroes from Earth decided to join forces and help the maggnoriyion and struggle against the scourge, unfortunately the message was also heard by the enemy. Other hostile's from around the galaxy wanting the good fight gathered at Zenitaia!

But then one hope seemed lost on most of the ground forces being pulled back to the center of the city off the coast reinforcements came from an unexpected ally. the call from Earth grabbed the attention of the Allied nation space command, a powerful earth born military force that decided to give a to the maggnoriyion race and pay back debt to them from five months ago when the scourge attacked earth. Thousands upon thousands of VTOL transports fly towards the shore in the capital to unload troops to the front lines.

As the ANSC unload most the troops on the shoreline they come under attack by outlining scourge forces. As the scourge engaged ANSC forces on the beach they send out several wave's of their so-called attack dogs, the maggnoriyion's called them, " war beasts". These war beasts were very powerful and athletic, they could run as fast as a cheetah, the three times with their mouth and jump 30 feet up in the air! At first the ANSC had a hard time dealing with them losing hundreds in the process, but they eventually caught on what one of their brilliant strategists leaving the way in a command ship over the North Sea and they adapted to the enemy's attack. Now waiting they push up towards the mainland on the beach and head towards the outskirts.

@shadowswordmaster: @vamoose:

It'd been a few days sense the elemental diva was reassigned to this particular universe. Some time had passed and still she hadn't had quite the impact she was desiring. Seras was someone who'd charge into war zones. Who insisted on taking initiative and gunning down oppressors. So far not much had been done to aid others however no steps taken to seize better times. Problems of perpetual boredom came to a halt however upon announcement of a war on distant world. So the copper skinned elemental was quick to take flight in pursuit of distant world.

Sights of this world was nothing new seen dozens of ways on dozens of alien worlds across various galaxies and universes. Thunder sounded off with cannons and furious detonation the classic hymn of war. Distant cries rang out of commands and panic as was so often the case in such panicked times. As troubling and burdensome as it all was however Seras welcomed it. Peace was a desired domain and welcoming but not home to her, places like this were.

Voidhawk though Seras didn't know the ship it was far from indistinguishable. Upon the passing of the remarkable craft she was confidant she'd found desired location. Seeing Marv and his practically radiant ego made it even easier. The Centurion known for looks and no patience was swift to join the duo. Landing beside Marv in a blossom of dust and radient trail of energy. "Seras Integra pleasure to meet you. We have a plan or do you two have a secret handshake to get to first?"

@mastermouse:

Strength and honor.

These two words are so very important to the Orc race, and now it seems that there will be no one else to remember what they mean.

The Desecrated approach from the south, and the Infernal Phalanx has made landfall from the Worldscar in the Black Jungles. Zolo is surrounded, and the Zduha are in dire need of assistance. The Horde must remain strong, and the Orcs must remain stalwart. But we cannot do this alone. The Coalition is weak. They will not help us out of age-old grudges, not even if the world beneath their feet collapses and every city under their banners is consumed in unholy fire.

We must stand on our own for this fight. And that is what worries me.

My name is Rogash Bloodstomper, and this is the first step into an adventure I never imagined having.

---

"We cannot do this sir,"

Rogash grunted as he inspected the work of his goblin engineers. He listened to their complaining on a daily basis, but only now did he realize the truth in their words. The foreman continued to yammer on about technical details, but the Warchief understood.

"So, it has come to this," he replied, scratching the stubble on his thick chin.

"I'm sorry sir, but even with what you have given us it is scientifically impossible for us to do what you're asking,"

"The Infernal Phalanx uses portals to transfer their legions from dimension to dimension. I should be possible for us to tweak that formula,"

"I'll," the goblin sighed. "I'll see what I can come up with. But the parts here aren't worth the copper you paid for them."

The Orc grumbled and took reserved, but angry, steps out of the workshop. At times like these, he would light a ceremonial fire and ask his ancestors for guidance. Climbing to the top of his citadel in Kahzor Kazaag, he did just that. The shamanistic beliefs of the Orcs were necessary for battle, but sometimes they were purely therapeutic. He opened his eyes once the spirits of fire danced in the distance, and he watched a falling star. Only, upon closer inspection, it seemed to be cascading towards him.

And it did not seem to be stopping.

@warboss: The mouse captain was in a bit of a rush.
All that could be seen at the control center of the ship was a blur of white fur. Mistro was sprinting about at top speed hitting buttons, pulling levers and turning knobs. As quick as possible to ensure a safe and fast landing. He had to get to Zenitaia, but he had to make a quick pit stop first. See, the rodent had been working on a new thing. A sort of cross between nanobots and a biological substance, which he hoped would essentially serve as the ultimate cure against foreign pathogens viruses and diseases. One of the final ingredients needed was orc blood.
A few minutes ago, he locked on to a planet with orc. Just now, he warped through a black hole, straight to the orc territory. The furry captain couldn't waste time traveling through the atmosphere, he didn't even bother looking at the planet he traveled too.
Not even properly docking the ship, he opened a small hatch in the top of the control room and leaped out on top of his ship. He looked out and saw loads of orcs. One of them vaguely looked to be in charge. Hoping they spoke English, he yelled and pointed. "You there! I need your blood, anything you want in exchange is yours, as you can see.." He said as he gestured toward his ship. "I'm just a bit more advanced than you lot. Anything you need I'll build it or buy it."
Being that he was running low on time, the eager rodent yelled out. "Im dropping the back hatch, you've got sixty seconds to come aboard or I'm leaving!" Then he jumped right back through the ceiling hatch, dropping right into the control room. After a minute of waiting, whether the orc was aboard or not, the mouse made preparations to leave. The heavy back hatch slowly and hydraulically came to a close. The interior scanners on the ship turned on, the weapons powered up, the main engines fired up. "Cargo aboard or not...we're leavin." Mistro said to himself as the ship lifted up into the air, and blasted off through the atmosphere, and into space.
The second the ship was stationary, Mistro went through his normal routine of beginning wormhole travel. A series of interactions with the control console, the swirling emptiness of a wormhole was created, and the ship plunged through, nearly a second later they were a thousand miles from Zenitaia. A safe distance from Scourge ships.
The mouse then walked from the control center, through one of the five reinforced magnetically locked doors leading out, and towards the back of the ship. "Orc dude, you in there somewhere?" The curios captain called out as he wandered toward the back hatch where the Orc would've entered.

@mastermouse:

Rogash peeked out from underneath his thick hands, which were covering his head expecting a crash of some sort. Instead, the starship stopped on the dot with a voice echoing from inside. The Warchief was no stranger to large machines ferrying people from one place to another, but they usually were sluggish zeppelins that required large amounts of fuel and carried dozens of warriors to battle. This vessel seemed both alien and ingenious. Before he could investigate further, something about the voice's urgent message caught his attention outside of its immediate nature.

"Anything I need?" Rogash smirked.

"My Warchief, what happened? We saw a star falling into your throne room, and - "

"I am fine, Orgarok, but I've no time to explain. I leave you in charge as steward. I shall return in due time,"

Taking a flying leap across the open air between his balcony and the cargo hold, the hulking Orc rolled into the hangar as the door closed behind him. Orgarok, his loyal captain of the guard, saluted the ship as it departed back into the night sky.

---

Rogash harbored an inherently curious personality, and almost upchucked curiosity the second the ship stopped whatever hyper-speed function it possessed. His host appeared from behind the door leading into his makeshift living quarters, and the mouse would find Rogash piled underneath various pounds of luggage and supplies, staring up at him.

"A bit cramped, but I'm alive," he replied slowly, regaining his footing after the intense portal travel bearing down on his nerves. "My name is Rogash by the way, of the Bloodstomper Clan. What is yours?"

Already proving an understanding of the emergency at hand, Rogash continued to work out the kinks in his balance as he moved along with the mouse, wherever he would lead the Orc to - possibly the medical bay, considering his mention of needing Orc blood before coming here.

@warboss:
"Quite a few of the places on this ship are a bit cramped, considering I'm small it doesn't bother me all that much." Suddenly Mistro's spacesuit and helmet materialized on him in a flash of blue light. "My name is Mistro, I'm not really of a clan but I am king of mice." Quickly, the mouse captain began moving through the halls, knowing the very large strong looking orc was following close behind.

Telepathically, Mistro communicated with the ship to start moving towards Zenitaia. The neural circuit the furry rodent had implanted in his brain was hastily made, so all he could really do away from the control console was steer, and activate things inside the ship. He planned on working towards fixing that issue soon.

The odd looking pair then arrived at the medical bay, another steel looking magnetically locked door let off several loud clicks before sliding open with a familiar pshhh sound. Quickly the mouse turned around and studied the massive orc. His helmet analyzing his body, muscles, brain, joints and bone density. No special precautions were needed.

Dashing across the room, the eager mouse grabbed a needle, ran back to the orc and skidded to a stop. "This really won't hurt, you orcs are tough, or at least I think." Effortlessly, Mistro stabbed the needle into a vein in Rogash's arm. One vial of blood was all he needed. Sliding the needle out, the mouse quickly wrapped a super adhesive medical tape around the needle entry point.

"Alrighty, now that I've got that, I'll get you whatever you need. However, I have one more request, I need you to come with me to an alien planet to fight some alien forces. I could salvage technology from them which would allow me to more quickly make what you need. Make your decision quickly, we're in orbit in twelve seconds." The furry rodent wasn't entirely sure all that made sense to him, but he hoped he could at least get his point across.

@vamoose: @haven_:

He was about to speak to Marv, his best friend but then his student walked right and offered what seemed like friendly gesture."Pyrrhus Hawkins , Seras , and no just a handshake would be fine , for now anyway." He said in a more lively manner as he spook her hand.Seras Integra was indeed a unique looking woman but now was not the time for that kinda of talk , there is a world burning right now and they need to find a way to stop it."So any of you have any ideas , before we try to have this planet?"Clapping his hands once to see if the other two Stargaters as he like to call Seras and Marv's group.

He had had an idea which was find Yashimora and help out the defenders but maybe his teammates had other ideas.He was going to check if the Ninth Fleet was on it's way but Kon Vess had to deal with a large fleet of Xin pirates ."I saw we get to the defenders in the city and help them out, since they seemed to be stuck there."

The VoidHawk wonder about one other thing too if it was just the three of them in this .Then they need more help to fight this off unless Yashimora has a plan already.Turning in his chair to Marv the Human Rocket from another universe and said in the most calm manner he could."Can you get more of then Stargate brigade here to help us out Marv ?"

@mastermouse:

Watching the little mouse scurry around would have seemed entertaining if not for the current situation. Rogash kept calm and collected, respecting the king's title and actions as he would any other monarch worthy of his admiration. The needle pierced his leathery skin and he grunted, squeezing his massive fist as the last necessary drop was drawn out into the small vial. He flexed his fingers, finding the familiar sensation of strength still prominent within them.

He continued to walk nearby, observing the mouse king's ship while ducking periodically to avoid lighting fixtures and other details. As the mouse promised, the rest of the ship did not offer Rogash any possible image of comfort or room. Yet he did not lash out in anger even once. He looked out of the cockpit window, soaking in the battle as it happened. With the boat around him operating on autopilot, a special kind of heartbeat snuck into the palpitations already prevalent in his chest. This was an unavoidable battle, not because of the split second decision-making involved, but because Rogash could already feel it boiling in his blood.

His waraxe Zuul found its way into his hand, and he gripped it - hard. The enchanted weapon almost seemed to glow in the distant firelight of invading battleships and clashing armadas. A similar flash of luminescence resided in Rogash's golden eyes as he turned around, his lips curled into a harsh smile around his large tusks.

"You ask if an Orc is ready for battle?"

@warboss:"That's the spirit!" Mistro yelled out gleefully as he dashed off to the control panel. Less complex than warp speed, just a switch and a button and the entire ship became entirely invisible to any outside viewers. It had now been fourteen seconds, they were quickly coming through Zenitaia's atmosphere. "Rogash! Go to the back hatch where you came in!" He called out as he dashed off to the back of his ship, slamming a big red button on one of the walls to open the back hatch.

Mistro's helmet quickly determined he did not require the helmet to survive on this planet, so it was teleported off his head, leaving his suit and equipment. The mouse captain felt he Rogash would not be far behind, so he began a slow walk off the ship and onto the planet. The soil felt weird, a city was quite obviously visible in the distance, but others were closer. There was no telling whether or not they were friendly, so the captain decided it would be better to sit and wait.

Scourge ships also could arrive at any moment, but Mistro didn't fear them, the plasma cannon by itself could probably take one of their standard cruisers. However, the swordsman elected to unsheathe and equip his plasma blade, knowing full well he could rocket boot straight to a cruiser and literally slice it in half. Anyways, how the duo proceeded, whether it be wait for Scourge to fight, approach the other people, or go to the city was all up to Rogash.

A number of frankensteins were deployed in the A.N.S.C task-force, but then, these mass produced artificial gods were such a lynchpin to their strategy that their whole doctrine began to revolve around Frankensteins. To most, Frankensteins were exceptionally lethal and dangerous super-soldiers, class one hundred base, super-sonic speeds, and usually with one exceptional power, all of which would be enhanced over time in the middle of battle; all backed up by advanced power armor and weaponry.

In the Hierarchy war, it was, and still is the Frankensteins who formed the tip of the spear against the Hierarchy's innumerable forces. In the wars with the other space based descendants of world war 2 era alliances, it was these superhuman groups who fought in all the most important battles. And in the case of ultra-high level meta attack, the so called "Code Omega Black Primus", formed after a disastrous encounter with Dave on the planet reach, theoretically it was the Frankensteins who would be best fit to take down one of the monstrously potent facts of creation.

In practice; the A.N.S.C's Code Omega Black Primus response was still "throw mega-gauges at it and hope it goes away." Unfortunately, Demo-king's powers to generate anti-matter wasn't quite up to snuff, and the hazard strip coloured bulky suited Frankenstein was sent hurtling out of the area with a single telekinetic thrust that overpowered his own resistances and put him out of the way like yesterday's trash. He was irrelevant to Yuri's plans, and so had to be dealt with like all irrelevant things should be. Without the slightest care for the fact of their existence. Demo-King undoutbly survived, Ivan could still sense his rancid thoughts. But there were more important things to be concerned with.

Namely the city. This was his target. It would sow the disorder and devastation that the Black Hand thrived on, there the Black Hand would promise the restoration of order, of stability in a time where there is none. Of course, it would come with strings attached, order always did. Such as the order he brought to the A.N.S.C army standing in his way. A million strong, part of it's large scale response and reaction force sent to ensure that the planet would be both orderly and A.N.S.C friendly in the future. A million minds he obliterated, cut like puppets on a string and left only mindless vegetables.

A million minds he forcefully implanted wholly new personalities into, force feeding empty minds with new ideas after their psyches had been completely scoured from their minds like paint being stripped from metal. What had once been die-hard Allied soldiers were now Epsilon fanatics who would fight for Yuri and die for Ivan. With a single thought, he had disposed of an entire army group like nothing; converted them into his loyal, fanatical soldiers with entirely new personalities he devised for each of them.

He looked at the walls of the city, expressionless and dead silent beneath his mask as his army split up to cause havoc and distraction behind his back; native soldiers getting in his way soon being met with the same destruction and replacement of sapience, But he did not want or need their help in the city proper, he planned on taking out the city entirely on his own, not as a single great expression of his power, but to give it a slow death, to maximize it's pain and confusion before he delivered it's final end.

He still figured that it would be best to make a dramatic entrance. With a flexing of his mind, the entire city rumbled as it's walls and shielding were slammed into by some tremendous force. To the city's credit, the walls held up remarkably well despite the force he was putting out. But with a terrible shudder and groan, he penetrated the shield and tore the wall from it's foundation, the cacophany of a large section of wall being ripped apart and flung to the heavens like a toy drowning out all other noise as he set about opening up a hole in it so that he could advance directly into the city; still making his implacable; utterly professional walk.

He wasn't quite as fond of violent displays of power as his sister, but if Yuri demanded that there be chaos, let there be chaos.

@shadowswordmaster: @haven_:

A warmhearted chortle as both Haven and Pyrrhus greeted themselves. "Nah, Seras, our special handshake ain't for the eyes of rookies." Facetiously smirking, the Brigadier placed a comforting arm at her shoulder-blades. "Seras here is almost as good as we are, Pyrr. She is kinda unpolished, but what matters is heart and she has tons of it." Her untamed demeanor appealed to his old self, and her selfless might, albeit seldom required, mesmerized him. Marv was well-fortuned to accompany and interfere on her development. "Seras, that incredibly handsome dude there is my bro Pyrrhus, be less cocky to him than you are to me, his arrogance and douchiness aren't as great as mine."

Folding vigorously both arms and bobbing his head. The Brigade should aid, but lives would be lost, innumerable, tenderfoot agents. "I can call in our best, but don't ask me to call the whole thing, bro. Ya know how I feel about losing that great amount of lives."

Cocking a brow, he reclined at the marvelous vessel's wing. "We should check out the city first. I mean, so we calculate the probability of triumph and even the odds here." Twisting his head around, fathoming the ostensibly calm ambient, Vamoose scarcely savvied what happened beneath. "Seras, what you think? If you're substituting my lead, you need to start taking part on the important decisions." Rhythmically throbbing his finger against mildly amused lips, he inquired Haven, trusting his life to her hopefully wise choices.

@umaka: @shadowswordmaster: @haven_: @mastermouse: @warboss: @terrifying_archon: @vamoose:

As the scourge Army continues bombarding the planet from space with the remaining three dreadnoughts, far above the planet cloaked a scourge flagship 2 km in length. The ship was armed to the teeth, from mega cannons to particle beams. Ship was awaiting Zamol's orders to the cloak in glaze the planet of the remaining inhabitants but Zamol loves watching the suffering and war that he started. Zamol on the bridge on his throne chair sat there contemplating on what to do next to the planet and its people.

"Soon....... any and all maggnoriyion's will be dead, and its saviors along with them", Zamol saying in a evil dark tone. "my lord, more allies of the maggnoriyion's have shown up which I we do?" Zamol's Viceroy said to him kneeling. "at the dreadnought's engage them, we kill them all leave nothing standing"! Zamol said in an upset voice. As the scourge dreadnoughts get new orders two out of three dreadnoughts head towards the Mighty Mouse and the third heads towards Hawkins ship! Launching fighters numbering in the hundreds they prepared to engage both ships at the same time.

@shadowswordmaster: @warboss: @mastermouse: @vamoose: @zamol:

Shaking Phyrr's hand Seras listened to the duo before giving an input. Curdious nature not getting in their way. There wasn't any more then a smile to the remark. When it came to the subject matter of business and the conduct of war Seras didn't laugh or joke. "Marv you said while on earth to do what we need. The galaxies most egotistical would be needed. Or something like that. Perhaps we can find them here, such as that ship that just went into a landing procedure." Seras pointing at the barely visible spec that was a distant ship.

"Are best bet would be to contact them get as much of a group as we can together. If this planet is to have a chance it'll need us." Regretfully Haven wasn't a strong suit at tactical analysis her notion of planning was simplistic. "My idea of attack is probably stupid. I want to go shoot those dreadnoughts. When it comes to strategy I'm pitiful not everyone can be fortunate enough to be an elemental." Able to alter her physical make up into almost any element she often could take as few or as many hits as required of desired. This status was used to simply rush the enemy favoring her colleagues safety by throwing herself and caution to the wind.

"The three dreads are inbound fighters being dispensed as we speak." Seras remarked as her A.I alerted her the numbers staggering they were going out of their way to put an end to the group of associates. "This baby got any weapons for this? Or maybe you can just let me go at them?" Plasma began to grow and burn in her hand cackling with destructive force. "Marv can your A.I contact the others mines focused on them." Her head gesturing to the surplus of incoming aircraft.

@zamol: @haven_: @vamoose:

"Honey , the BlueHawk is the best fighter in the know galaxy, it can what it needs to do but I'm going to need some help with thosedreadnoughts , so we can get this do quicker , so.." Talking first at Haven and then at both of them in a more relax manner.Going from talking to them to in front of the control panel of the BlueHawk and starting the engines back up again and in seconds there was life in the BlueHawk.The ship slowly and surely moved above the ground.He hands were tight on the control grips and then right when the ship was a high enough off the ground is when Pyrrhus flip the switch. "This is were you get off now."He said politely to other people in the BlueHawk. Making a quick check the high tech weapons system.

@mastermouse:

Smiling in full anticipation now, the Orc could not contain the blood rushing through his muscles. He pumped one heavy foot after another, dipping and diving wherever necessary, and leaped into the hangar as the door opened. He felt a blur past his leg and knew it could only be the incredibly fast mouse king, seeing his perceptions confirmed once he reached the apex of the ramp. Poise and finesse accompanied the mouse king at all times, even as he exited superspeed. The stark contrast in the barbaric Warchief did not elude Rogash, but it did not bother him either. This felt...right.

Whereas Rogash could guess Mistro's hearing was great, his sense of smell was almost as powerful. The air did not sit well with his nostrils and he blared them outward into a loud snort indicative of his discomfort.

"They're coming from all directions," he grunted.

These were two rulers with perhaps two startlingly different ways of thinking. But the fact that Mistro unsheathed his weapons first and asked questions later did impress the Warchief, and he tightened his grip on his waraxe Zuul.

"Back to back. We support each other, blade for blade," whether or not Mistro wanted to add to this string, such as saying "blow for blow," was completely up to him.

The bloodlust bubbled up in Rogash's gut as he unleashed the first of many slashes, a lateral swipe that surprisingly cleaved part of one of these biomechanical horrors in half - cleanly. Zuul was a waraxe forged in the blood of a powerful Tribelord, and smothered in his funeral ashes. It was enchanted to be strong against any armor, making it a deadly combination with Rogash's already primordial and raw physical strength. But to Rogash's intrigue, the monstrosity scurried away and fused back together, screaming as it did so. Continuing, instinctively going back to his position with Mistro's shoulderblades somewhere near the calves of his legs, the pattern would proceed without flaw considering both of their inherent battle expertise. Even with Mistro's unimaginable reaction speed, Rogash seemed to be keeping up rather well - perhaps off by a sixth of a second, but still impressive in the grand scheme of things.

A mouse and an Orc fighting robot aliens on a distant planet.

Yeah, this was happening.

@warboss:

Mistro took a hefty sniff, and smelt the odd odor of robot alien, all around them. "Oh how I love being surrounded" The mouse captain said with genuine joy, the psychotic rodent really did love killing things. Taking Rogash's cue, the little mouse backed up against the very large Orc warlord. Only now really realizing how large and obviously strong his friend was. The mouse's shoulders were only a little above knee-height on Rogash's legs. Being absolutely horrid at on the spot one liners and witty comments, the mouse instead elected to give three-second pep talk, for that was all the duo really had. "We fight, until the Scourge leader is afraid to send more."
Happy with his comment, the mouse king took notice of the quite ridiculous amount of scourge that was surrounding the pair. With complete trust in his behemoth of a friend, the furry swordsman didn't worry about the Scourge behind, Rogash would most likely tear them to shreds. The Scourge swarm mentality made the mouse feel as if he were surrounded by zombies, but they were robot aliens. Slowly they closed in on Mistro, then four of them darted forward, with grace and finesse only a creature as fabulous as the mouse swordsman himself could muster, he sliced the four of them to bits, leaving four separate piles of limbs. With a devilish grin, the mouse awaited his next victim.
Suddenly, one of the scourge shot a weird sort of energy blast, not bothering trying to figure out what it was, the mouse swatted it away with his sword. The problem being, it demagnetized his blade and the plasma simply fell of the sword.
"Shit." And then they all rushed him, quick as always, Mistro took both his plasma pistols in hand and started firing. There were so many, firing his pistols was becoming futile very quickly. Slowly, he backed up the few feet of room he had put between him and Rogash, back to back once more, he had maybe four seconds to come up with a plan. Realizing that the alien robots were made of metal, hopefully the magnetic kind, Mistro activated the super strong magnets in his boots, flipped them and did a sort of roundhouse kick aimed in the general direction of the Scourge, which were a mere two feet away.
It worked, the majority of them flew back nearly ten feet, giving the mouse time to do what he deemed a good tactical decision. With a single graceful backflip, the mouse landed on Rogash's right soldier. Quickly he holstered his pistols, and equipped his plasma assault rifle, then he went to town. Now, the psychotic murderous rodent was comfortable, he had pretty much taken care of his "half" and he was sure Rogash was doing just fine as well.
As icing on the cake, he tossed a single one of his standard grenades into the remaining crowd, blowing them to bits.
"Fun times." He said with a deep exhale.

IGFC Station-634, One Standard Hour Ago

Eliot was not pleased. Not at all. He tapped his foot anxiously, sitting at a table in an IGFC standard space-station, constructed in orbit around an uninhabitable Class-V planet that didn't even have a name. The only reason this location was even notable was because the Intergalactic Financial Conglomerate had located a rather lucrative vein of duranium on the surface of the planet, and had constructed this outpost in order to ensure that their newest source of economic gain would not be infringed upon. It was typical of the IGFC; eliminate all sources of competition so that they could literally own space. All of it. That was the plan, anyways, and it made Eliot uneasy. But credits were credits, and the IFGC pays well. What confused him was what job they had in mind for him. It certainly wasn't unknown for the IGFC to hire freelancers like Eliot, but doing so wasn't really their style. Anyone they wanted out of their way they could just pay off, and if they needed a shipment of anything delivered, they had their own freighters for. Which meant they either wanted Eliot to retrieve something for them, or they wanted a low-key job completed without attracting attention.

Eliot stiffened as a spindly male Dramask strode over to the table where he sat. His tall, skinny form looked out-of-place on this station, which would usually be run entirely by lackeys or droids. For whatever reason, this bureaucrat to come all the way here to talk to him, and it was highly intriguing, to say the least.

"Mister Freeman. I see you responded to our summons quite promptly. Impressive for someone of your species to be so...punctual."

Eliot leaned forward, visor down, obscuring his facial features.

"Make it quick. What do you want from me? It has to be something unorthodox, especially if you plan to hire me, of all people-"

"Silence, human."

Eliot's grip on his rifle tightened beneath the table. For a Dramask to be so forward was incredibly out-of-character. They were all money-grabbing, dull, insufferable Scrooges, but they always had good manners. For him to be interrupted like this...something was really wrong.

"There has been...an incident. A system-wide incident. Reports of it have been well-monitored and dispelled by many authorities. Have you heard of the planet Zenitaia? It is under attack. And it will fall if we do nothing."

Eliot leaned back in his chair, his fascination with the potential job growing by the minute. He grinned as he asked why the Dramask wanted his help.

"Don't tell me the IGFC has grown a sense of decency and wants me to protect this planet."

The tall Profiteer scoffed.

"Don't be ridiculous, human. The IGFC has merely instated a sizeable investment in that system. Should it fall, we would lose a valuable trade route. Our quarterly profit margin could fall by up to .06% if we do nothing. The ramifications of such profit loss could destabilize our hold on that entire system's economical structure," he continued, "and such losses would be disastrous overall for the IGFC."

"So my job is to end this invasion?"

"You will aid the resistance, yes. It is our understanding that you have done this sort of thing before."

"And let me guess, my number one concern is to be the protection of your investment, not the preservation of sentient life?"

"Precisely, Mister Freeman."

Eliot scowled behind his helmet. No Dramask had any sense of ethics. They had simply evolved out of the need to care.

"What's in it for me, again?"

"Twelve-hundred credits over the course of the next cycle. Each day. After you've completed your assignment, of course."

Eliot whistled behind his helmet. They really were paying up for this one. Twelve-hundred a day? Ridiculous. They could hire an entire contingent of pirates for that sort of coin. Of course, a whole sector full of pirates was nothing compared to Eliot, as he had proven more than once.

"Why hire me? Why not just send in your battleships? You could probably end this invasion with just one-"

"We fear retaliation."

The artificial air in the station seemed to grow stale. Everything stopped moving for the one second that the Dramask whispered his last statement.

They fear retaliation? Who am I up against?

"I should have known. There's always a catch isn't there. Who's invading? A planet-eating nightmare from another dimension or something? The IGFC own half this sector. There's nobody for you to be afraid of."

"It matters not. You are being paid well, and it is our understanding that you are the best in this particular field," he paused, savoring the irony, "after all, we bred you to be the best, Eliot."

His eyes narrowed once more.

"That was illegal. Experimentation on sentient species is a Class-A felony in that system."

"And we have already paid the fine. The scientists were arrested. What more do you want? Even the Executive Board didn't know about the experiments."

"So they say."

The Dramask revealed a thin-lipped smile.

"You are a wily one, Mister Freeman. Don't fail us. You will be rewarded promptly and generously should you succeed."

Eliot got up from the table, turning and marching to his docked ship.

"You can count on it. Success is what I do."

Now

Eliot's ship, the Greased Lightning, was nearing Zenitaia. The FTL drive would need recharging, but his droids Lewis and Clark could handle that while he inspected the situation at the site. For the IGFC to be intimidated was rare indeed, meaning he'd be dealing with some potent threats. But, he was confident he could handle whatever came his way.

"Brace for impact. Planetfall in 5...4...3...2..1..."

The ship lurched out of hyperspace right into the middle of a war zone. Eliot gritted his teeth, bobbing and weaving between laserfire and missiles. His scanners identified the Zenitaia defense militia, marking them as friendlies, and their mysterious foes as hostiles. His shields active and his cannons primed, he opened fire upon the swarm of enigmatic ships surrounding the world.

@mryashimora said:

@umaka:

Waking up in a daze Mr. Yashimora stumbled over to the left, upon hearing, "You from here?" Mr. Yashimora replied, "ya.......yes", saying still in a daze. Mr. Yashimora then climbs out of the wreckage of whats left of his ship, battered and full of cuts already healing do to his healing abilities he replies, "where did i land?" upon getting out of the crash he almost fell off the skyscraper and answered his own question saying, "well.........shit", in a helpless ton, looking down seeing they where hundreds of floors up he asked the strange green brute behind him saying, "how did you get up here, because i cant fly".

Meanwhile

As the city burns from firefights happening all over the city maggnoriyion forces continue the clash with the scourge Army. As the maggnoriyion forces get push back from their defensive line's the immortal knights go on the offensive! Mechs and armored vehicles collide in a powerful counteroffensive from the maggnoriyion's, when hopes seemed lost the call for arms that Adm. Qatar sent out before things got ugly planet side was heard! Heroes from Earth decided to join forces and help the maggnoriyion and struggle against the scourge, unfortunately the message was also heard by the enemy. Other hostile's from around the galaxy wanting the good fight gathered at Zenitaia!

But then one hope seemed lost on most of the ground forces being pulled back to the center of the city off the coast reinforcements came from an unexpected ally. the call from Earth grabbed the attention of the Allied nation space command, a powerful earth born military force that decided to give a to the maggnoriyion race and pay back debt to them from five months ago when the scourge attacked earth. Thousands upon thousands of VTOL transports fly towards the shore in the capital to unload troops to the front lines.

As the ANSC unload most the troops on the shoreline they come under attack by outlining scourge forces. As the scourge engaged ANSC forces on the beach they send out several wave's of their so-called attack dogs, the maggnoriyion's called them, " war beasts". These war beasts were very powerful and athletic, they could run as fast as a cheetah, the three times with their mouth and jump 30 feet up in the air! At first the ANSC had a hard time dealing with them losing hundreds in the process, but they eventually caught on what one of their brilliant strategists leaving the way in a command ship over the North Sea and they adapted to the enemy's attack. Now waiting they push up towards the mainland on the beach and head towards the outskirts.

Calmly, Umaka watched the native heal and discover how he'd gotten up to the skyscraper. "I climbed." He said gruffly as he heard the man's question- however, he also had a few questions of his own. Speaking up, he narrowed his eyes and raised a dagger, pointing the razor sharp edge to the man's throat. "Gimme a reason why I shouldn't kill you and everyone else in my path, and take this miserable planet for myself." He scowled.

Umaka most likely wouldn't do that. But, intimidation was his nature. His sole purpose. Without being a symbol of fear he was nothing. Rippling muscles coating his arms, he prepared to cut the Zenitaian's throat.

@haven_: @shadowswordmaster: @mastermouse: @warboss: @zamol:

"Copy that, babe." A light-toned, playful wink as he leaped aback, exiting instantaneously the ship. Instead of simply contacting the ship, he pinpointed feasible enemies, taciturnly analyzing his steps, furthermore proceeding with caution. The renowned Mighty Mouse - once property of an atrocious, skeptical Sith Lord named Vor'zhuul and his animalistic, cutting-edge co-pilot Mistro - was acquainted by Marv Buscema's ingenious AI.

He darted at speeds trespassing Light Barrier, bumping and wrecking havoc at the units enveloping the once-called Dark Horizon, his arrogant, indifferent stare fathoming the outer hull. "So this is the legendary Dark Horizon, eh? I would highly recommend you shared your top-notch firepower with us. I mean, if we have a chance to survive, it's if you guys cooperate... And if the ship lives up to the myths scattered across the galaxies."

@haven_: @shadowswordmaster: @mastermouse: @vamoose:

Four U.A.S. Star cruisers backup the Dark Horizon when all of a sudden a ship comes out of cloak and fires upon the three ships destroying them instantly! "i AM TIRED OF YOUR INSOLENCE THIS ENDS NOW!!" Zamol said aboard his bridge, it was his ship that de-cloaked and destroyed the four U.A.S. Star cruisers and instant and then the main cannons and missiles aboard the ship fired, shooting in all different directions both at the mighty mouse and the dark horizon he wanted to get them out of the way as fast see can consider being a nuisance! "leave nothing left of them I want them dead.... NOW!" as Zamol's flagship continues the fire Apple for their ships maggnoriyion reinforcements from some of their other colonies begin warping in out of FTL. the battle ensued as Zamol's ship took evasive action still shooting at the dark horizon in the mighty mouse while heading towards planet Zenitaia. Zamol calling in reinforcements he sends a signal out to anybody that could reach it to make sure this job is done and dealt with! "Let these impudent insects know who we are send in the rest of the fleet"!

@vamoose: @shadowswordmaster: @zamol:

Before the vivacious vermillion elemental could retaliate the Dreadnoughts were engaged by a series of reinforcements the air hot from titanic engines and vast dispensed ammunition. The sky like fireworks as detonations sounded off in a flurry of detonations and destructive bursts. As the engagement carried on Seras simply retained close proximity to the Void Hawk providing fire support and doing what she could to redirect any incoming fire. As the elemental minx she was when shots got close she knew if, she felt it and thus could often send the attack back to the assailant. Skies roared with even more disruption and visceral destruction as the capital vessel of the force attacking this planet was made known. Supporting cruisers that halted the Dreadnoughts were smite down by daunting fire power.

This was good however now instead of three dangerous targets or a hundred small fighters to manage she had a singular opposition. "I'd like to say abandon ship, evac now. You wouldn't though and we don't have the time. So to those of you attacking have a nice flight." Seras A.I aided in making the broadcast be sent clearly across a number of open channels. "Oh and good bye."

With that the Centurion took off instantaneously lunging into the speed of light. Her body became adamantine in nature able to take the collision about to transpire as Haven literally became nothing but a projectile. An object at light speed should breach almost anything as the object in theory has infinite mass. With this remarkable force she very likely would obliterate at least a path through the signature ship housing Zamol. Assault got better however as her abilities meant she likely could manipulate the elements of the ship and or shields if it resisted her swift advance.

Haven further sought to provide destructive force by manipulating the ionized trail behind her. For every floor every room Haven might enter she would change the nature of the trail to a source of nuclear energy it'd soon erupt with monstrous destructive force. More Seras cleared more additional danger to opposition. Her goal was to punch through the base of the helm and emerge from the peak of the dearest engine. Total success would obliterate the ship destructive force of speed amplified by numerous detonations. This assault was however also a gamble.

If not efficiently breaching the ship Seras would be in a ship without support. To perform shocking objective it required tedious work from both Seras and her A.I. She'd be briefly in a natural state maybe even able to be harmed. She'd be in this vulnerable state regardless of success or failure. Hence why she did her best to ensure tactic was enough to best opposition.

@vamoose @haven_@shadowswordmaster@mastermouse

Uncle Sal's pizzeria, Labor Day weekend, lunch rush.

In the middle of New York City.

Line going out the door, each person standing in it intent on staying there. Waiting for Sal's cooking was worth the thirty minutes they were told by the usually cheerful Thelma. Right now, she kept track of the waiting list the best she could and did a spectacular job. The phone was ringing off the hook too, something that Janice handled.

More orders, piling in, just another day at the best pizza place on Yancy Street.

"Table 27 ready yet?" Jason was a punk, but an honest punk. Sal hired him out of one of his rare bouts of pity and never regretted it since. Always on time, never complained.

"Got more breadsticks, start handing them out to hungry customers!" Sal roared, steam hissing out of his joints as he continued to forcefully manhandle the inside of the oven, racks of pizzas greeting him as he inspected each one for the quality of ingredients during preparation.

"Table 27, medium with olives, spinach, mushrooms, and sausage. Ready!" Sal commanded, putting the pizza on a giant wooden spatula and sliding it onto one of the trays covered with wax paper meant to carry it to the table. Jason took the hint and raced towards the far left side of the restaurant floor.

"Table 13 is ready next, Benny!"

Benjamin Spencer, a quiet kid, set down a few refills for the table in question and smiled as he dismissed himself from their presence for the meal he was meant to take back to them. He was the newest of the crew and had yet to acquaint himself with the restaurant's namesake. Uncle Sal, or Salazar Roosevelt, was not widely known, yet those who had been coming to the place for years knew him by name. Ben looked up - way up - at the full broad frame of the giant robotic humanoid, and Sal's squared jaw just flapped up and down as he tried to get Ben's attention again.

"You hear me? Good, now go feed my guests. Get money get paid, little guy."

---

Dinner shift, surprisingly, was slow. Everyone had somewhere else to go. So Sal decided to close early. In a show of fairness, he let the waiters keep the tips they were given. Hoarding tips together and dividing it between them was stupid. With his giant metal fingers, he sifted through the cash register's contents in the back office, tapping his finger on the table to the dumb radio songs that repeated over the intercom.

All of his employees were already gone, having done their share of cleaning and silverware wrapping.

He sighed. Barely made the rent again. Keeping his place was getting harder each year. People were just tired of quality, apparently. They wanted fast food, now now now. Sacrificing good pizza for quick pizza was always a mistake.

"Just microwave a damn Red Baron's and stay at home, don't come out and chew on my metal ass because you feel like it."

He chuckled a bit, remembering the first time he kicked someone out of the joint for being a buttmunch. People these days, sheesh. He pulled his overcoat on and shrugged to get it to fit. Ever since the accident, things just didn't feel right anymore. Having custom-fitted clothes was almost insulting, like no human should be wearing this or something. Still, it made him look good.

At least, the parts that weren't the robot body.

Eleven at night, and the streets were pretty quiet. Locking the front door and shutting the metal blinds were just precautions learned during the riots throughout the 70s and 80s. He walked up and down this road every single day. Never got tired of it. Only thing was the spot.

It hurt just remembering it. How many times they hit his head. How many times they kept beating him. That's part of the reason why he had to get this new body of his. Sal patted down his thick armored chest, remembering there was still a heart in there. A metal one, but still there.

"Still here, you bastards,"

The muggers were identified and arrested, but Sal had to start over. His body was broken beyond repair, and even if he were to recover, he would never walk or move again besides facial expressions. Since this would mean a death sentence for his business, a business he owned for over fifteen years, decisions were made and he wound up as a living breathing robot man. The weirdest part was yet to come, however.

He kept looking down, a habit he learned in high school, and found something that looked like a quarter. Picking it up absentmindedly, he stuffed it into his pocket and continued walking, only he suddenly felt a bit lighter.

"H-Hey, what's goin' on?" he asked nobody, disappearing into thin air before he could do anything else.

---

Mere picoseconds later, he re-materialized on what he could best recognized as an alien world. Gasping for air, his brain told him to vomit, but of course he couldn't. He staggered to his feet, looking all around, absorbing the details. Judging by the look on a three-foot-tall mouse's face, he apparently poofed up right in front of him. Investigating further, there were hacked robot parts that looked to be chopped apart like firewood. He connected two and two together, comparing these marks to those on the machines in front of the mouse, and came to the conclusion that he switched places somehow with another person who was fighting here mere seconds earlier.

But then he did a double take on the mouse.

There was a three-foot-tall mouse staring right at him.

Good God.

"Uh," he stammered. "HelloOH, JESUS H. CHRIST!"

Getting knocked over the head wasn't high on Sal's list of favorite things to do right now, least of all by a rogue cybernetic beast that wanted to take his head with it. Shooting his hands forward, he brought the beast down to the ground and put it in a headlock.

"I don't know what's going on, and I don't care!"

Twisting and pulling, Sal managed to tear the metallic sinews holding the thing together, ripping it in two.

"No one blindsides Salazar Roosevelt!" he roared, feeling a bit funny after touching the winged beast. He scratched his head with one hand.

But felt another touching his robot scalp. Swatting it away, thinking it was another flying thing, he sputtered once he realized he had wings of his own! Apparently this was a power of his now, or the strange technologies of this alien species was just compatible with his own. Confused beyond any reason, he looked at the mouse for answers.

@vamoose@haven_@shadowswordmaster@roosevelt

Having finished his share of Scourge, Mistro shifted his attention towards observing and deducing what else was going on near him. Looking into the sky, he saw a ship, a quick glance and the mouse realizes it is the legendary VoidHawk, piloted by the one and only Phyrr. Than something traveling at FTL speeds flew over Mistro's head and towards what seemed to be the leader Scourge ship. The rodent got a whiff of what flew by, not a ship or robot, an alien, smelled like an elemental. Realizing with the VoidHawk in air probably blasting Scourge ships left and right, and crazy alien girl flying headfirst into the leaders ship, the minuscule hero had time to plan. Just as he was about to begin plotting an efficient battle plan, the leader of the Stargate Brigadiers circled the Mighty Mouse at insane speeds, blowing remaining Scourge to shreds. Then, he stopped and spoke.

Quickly, the mouse responded, wanting to move on. "This is no longer the Dark Horizon, it is the Mighty Mouse. Sure, we'll help, and I can assure you, the ship will live up to any myth you heard... Rogash! Let's go." Suddenly the smell of Orc was gone, immediately replaced with Earth person smell, with a helping of metal. A man stood there, he said hello, then was blindsided by a Scourge foot soldier. Out of curiosity, the mouse did not even flinch, he watched unmoving, wondering of this man's abilities. The man called Salazar literally ripped a Scourge in half.

A look of curiosity washed over Salazar. "A rip in space and time? Maybe a fold. I'm not quite sure. Anyways you're here, and it seems the Scourge metals are binding with you. Maybe it's sentient and can take it's own forms? Probably." The little mouse tapped his plasma pistols in thought. "With enough focus, you could probably control it to form whatever you want. Doesn't matter, you're here, your one shot at getting home is me. So stick by me."

Turning once more to the leader of the Stargate Brigade, the little mouse decided he didn't want to be in charge of the battle. "You. Those are your people I assume, the elemental and Phyrr? You can probably link us all up on a comm yeah? Do that, take charge, win this fight."
The back hatch of the Mighty Mouse hissed as it came down, the captain quickly running up. "I would suggest Phyrr for the more precise important targets, the elemental for the powerful targets, and I'd suggest allowing me to decimate the overwhelming cannon fodder ships. I think that's what best suits or abilities and such. But ultimately it's your call."

Hoping Salazar had made his way into the Mighty Mouse by now, the space-faring mouse fired his ships engines and flew up into the sky, there, he would await orders.