He's not a Legionnaire, not yet. They haven't quite cleared him medically. But when he heard that there was a disaster on this scale, he'd simply brushed past the distressed crowds and made his way down to the Threshold Gates in the (admittedly well-organized) chaos. No flight ring, no omnicomm, but he'd never used them before.
And, really, he should be flattered. Really. Helping out on the mission for only three or four hours and whatever menace is behind this is already pulling out the big guns to erase him. Still, it's a little hard to be flattered when the slidewalk under his feet is melting.
He'd been fighting against the techno-zombies for hours. Moving citizens, locking roboticized citizens into homes, freezers, burying them up to their necks in rockcrete... Doing what he could to slow them down. Apparently, he'd had enough, because when he rounded one corner and encountered about two dozen of the mechanical monsters, they lurched away from him rather than towards him, morphing and twisting around each other to form a horrid mass of metal tentacles, topped by a metallic alien skull.
With a cannon in its mouth.
It's a note of how insane his life is that this didn't register on the list of 'worst things ever'. He'd instantly gone on the defensive, deflecting the energy bursts as much as he could, redirecting them at the supports of a nearby parking garage, but the tentaskulled monstrosity eventually reconfigured itself, pinning him behind his shield with a solid stream. If it got much hotter, his boots would probably start smoking, but the amount of pressure against his shield meant that he couldn't move it an inch.
He'd have to think of something fast. Or hope that someone came to lend a hand. Most of the supports for the garage had been melted through by the time whoever was in control caught on, destroying the last few, if the right ones were picked, would bring the entire structure down on the skull. Fortunately, with its tentacles sunk into the ground to keep it stabilized while firing at him, it couldn't go anywhere... but neither could he.
Bigger Fish
And, really, he should be flattered. Really. Helping out on the mission for only three or four hours and whatever menace is behind this is already pulling out the big guns to erase him. Still, it's a little hard to be flattered when the slidewalk under his feet is melting.
He'd been fighting against the techno-zombies for hours. Moving citizens, locking roboticized citizens into homes, freezers, burying them up to their necks in rockcrete... Doing what he could to slow them down. Apparently, he'd had enough, because when he rounded one corner and encountered about two dozen of the mechanical monsters, they lurched away from him rather than towards him, morphing and twisting around each other to form a horrid mass of metal tentacles, topped by a metallic alien skull.
With a cannon in its mouth.
It's a note of how insane his life is that this didn't register on the list of 'worst things ever'. He'd instantly gone on the defensive, deflecting the energy bursts as much as he could, redirecting them at the supports of a nearby parking garage, but the tentaskulled monstrosity eventually reconfigured itself, pinning him behind his shield with a solid stream. If it got much hotter, his boots would probably start smoking, but the amount of pressure against his shield meant that he couldn't move it an inch.
He'd have to think of something fast. Or hope that someone came to lend a hand. Most of the supports for the garage had been melted through by the time whoever was in control caught on, destroying the last few, if the right ones were picked, would bring the entire structure down on the skull. Fortunately, with its tentacles sunk into the ground to keep it stabilized while firing at him, it couldn't go anywhere... but neither could he.