Group 4 Session 30

<uSeaGM> **Group 4 Session 30, woo!**
<uSeaGM> The attack is in full swing and the slaver camp is in chaos. Our heroes activated several base turrets which promptly mowed down anything armed and hostile that they could see. Getting woken up by a hail of machine gun fire did not bode well for the slavers but it did make a good signal for the waiting militia, who now advanced from the South and the West.
<uSeaGM> Our heroes soon took to the field themselves, making short work of a small group of Slavers trying to get themselves organised. Milia found a terrified slave and told her to get inside the base where AtomBell had set up her own ward to look after the injured. Short Stop ran off into the the camp to usher more slaves inside.
<uSeaGM> The next obstacle our heroes met was an armoured caravan that was part of the camp's southern perimeter (slave wagons and supply carriages make up the rest.) The slavers inside could fire at the militia with impunity while a turret on top kept them pinned down. Slavers outside were using its hull as cover... unfortunately for them they had no protection against an attack from inside the camp. Spectre spotted some other targets in the
<uSeaGM>  distance and took a moment of her time to add to her head count.
<uSeaGM> Cerberus landed some good hits on the turret pony, causing him to aim towards the group instead. The turret was made of half an old fuel barrel cut vertically down the middle with some extra sheets of metal attached and a pair of linked LMGs sticking out the front. It gave the user good protection but very poor visibility... leading him to assume that he'd killed his attacker when Cerberus had simply dived for cover. As the turret tu
<uSeaGM> rns back towards the militia, the slavers outside got Milia'd™. She left a single slaver standing... and that's just because she had to pause for breath.
<uSeaGM> We open with Spectre (and Artifica?) in position to see the caravan turret turning around (about 90 feet away). To their left are some supply carts and a cage-wagon, marking the southern edge of the camp. The slaves inside are trying to make themselves as small of a target as possible.
<uSeaGM> Milia is beside the armoured caravan, a dose of Dash coursing through her veins. Meanwhile AtomBell's group has grown to nearly half a dozen as Short Stop send more slaves her way. She'll need her biggest smile to reassure this lot!
* AtomBell has only her most reassuring smiles and bandages for the slaves as they come in.
* Spectre is waiting for a good opportunity to snipe the pony in the turret, her rifle at the ready.
* AtomBell is about as non-threatening as she can be, what with the scorched fur, mane, weak musculature, and pastel colors.  Atom finds herself hoping the Enclave never did anything to these ponies....
* Milia pants heavily, her chest heaving as she gasps for air. The gore-covered zebra just got finished brutalizing the three ponies standing next to her, having to relent just a bit to catch her breath. Even with the assistance of the drug, she didn't have unlimited energy after all!
* Milia stares at the single slaver she didn't manage to finish off. "Y-you...you'regonnadie..." she seethes.
* AtomBell has quit (Quit: Leaving.)
* Micro_Sparkle is now known as Mourning_Star
<uSeaGM> The slaver certainly believes it and tries to run away... tripping over one of his fallen comrades in the process.
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* Spectre watches the turret make it's pivot away from then with a nearly feral grin, sending two rounds his way the second he comes into view again
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* Arcane_Sleeping[A] is now known as Arcane_Scroll
* RainbowYoshi is now known as Steve
* Artifica watches the turret turn towards the militia, leaving the operator exposed.  "Well it's no wonder they couldn't make a decent living with that level of intellect."  She opens her spell closet, dumping Spirit of Diamond into her battle saddle and opens fire.
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* ChanServ sets mode +a #FalloutEquestriaPNP Arcane_Scroll
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* Artifica opens fire on the armored carrier, hoping her magically imbued bullets will tear through the hard candy shell to the soft nugget center inside.
<uSeaGM> The turret pony's head gibbs magnificently under the influence of Spectre's .308 rounds.
* Spectre sends a kiss the the turret pon's fleeing spirit
<uSeaGM> Meanwhile Artifica's magic-enhanced bullets tear through the side of the caravan much to the detriment of the slavers inside.
<uSeaGM> Bullet holes now join the various slits and openings covering the caravan's armoured side. Some of the opens are as a big as a hoof.
* Milia is on the remaining slaver like a demon out of Tartarus. Her Dash-addled mind was now completely lost in the bloodlust, and the young zebra practically wears herself out as she jumps on the prone pony, thrashing and biting and stomping and crushing until the slaver's body is the consistency of mush. She lets out another scream as she continues her relentless assault.
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* ThePrettiestFilly is now known as AtomBell
* uSeaGM gives voice to AtomBell
<uSeaGM> The slaves in the base with AtomBell skitter nervously... it seems her smile wasn't quite enough to reassure them. More than one glance at her wings.
* AtomBell takes a deep, reassuring breath, "Excuse me, everyone, I'm Doctor Bell.  You're all nervous but rest assured my friends have the situation well in hoof!"
* Spectre gallops over to the Armored vehicle, spotting a decent sized hole in it's side and veering towards it slightly, floating Ghost's satchel of explosives and looking inside it quickly to find the explosives she wanted and floating out three seperate grenades. She skids to a stop in front of the hole and pulls the pin out of a flashbang floating it through the hole and sending
* Spectre an incendiary and Frag grenade in after it
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<uSeaGM> The flashbang detonates, deafening and blinding the slavers inside and making them feel like they'd just been in a car crash. This proves to be the least of their concerns as everything catches fire. The slavers scream and flail, burning alive in their own private pony hell. The frag grenade following a few seconds later was a mercy.
<uSeaGM> AtomBell's words work much better and she manages to calm the slaves down. Thankfully her accent was in the 'off' position!
* AtomBell was trying to speak clearly!
* AtomBell steps towards the crowd to start looking for wounded and injured.
* Artifica looks at Milia worriedly.
* Artifica turns, her ears catching the quickly silenced howls of the slavers.  "We are not good ponies," she mutters.  "But then, neither were they."
<uSeaGM> AtomBell's check up reveals no major injuries, just a few bruises and splinters. Malnutrition seems to be their biggest issue.
* uSeaGM gives voice to Spectre
* AtomBell expected as much.  Going into her bags for tweezers and alcohol for sterilization.
<uSeaGM> Outside the armoured caravan gives off the disturbing smell of cooked meat. In the cage nearby most of the slaves try to keep low but an old stallion is at the bars cheering on the militia as they get nearer.
* AtomBell wonders if there was any leftover food in the break room.
* Spectre looks around and uses the kill command on the turrets
<uSeaGM> The turrets power down, happy in the knowledge of a job well done.
* AtomBell fixes up what she can before speaking again, "I'll be right back."
* Milia withdraws from the broken corpse of the slaver at last. She peers back to the armored caravan, feeling the heat radiate off of the vehicle, her lips curling into a small smile as the screams begin to die off. "Haha...hahaha..." she chuckles, her body shaking and jittering as she trots over to the site. "N-niceone...Spectre...s-s-seehow...see how they like it...for once..."
* Spectre is crouched beneath the hole she dumped the grenades she dumped into it "Milia, Sweetie?"
<Spectre> "You're fucking scary."
* Milia grimaces, lowering her head down and looking at the floor. "S-s-sorry...sometimes...I kinda...losecontrol...'speciall...'speciallyina...a fight..."
<Spectre> "It's alright."
* Artifica is shying away from Milia.  Scary is an understatement.
* AtomBell has no luck.  It seems like the fight destroyed what little food that wasn't spoiled by time.
* Milia slams a hoof against the armored truck, the Dash slowly leaving her system. She lets her gaze wander about the battlefield. "F-fuck...we made a mess...didn't we..." She notices she is almost completely red at this point. "...I made a mess...didn't I..."
* AtomBell returns to the liberated slaves.
* Spectre trots over to Milia to give her a quick hug "It's alright. Lets see what we can do about these slaves in the cages, shall we?"
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* Milia nods frantically. "Y-y-yeah...gotta save...gotta save ponies...get those collars off."
* Milia shakes her head...something felt off. This isn't like the other times coming down. Something was different this time. The zebra trots shakily towards the corpses and looks for a set of keys or something. Her hooves are so jittery, she can hardly rummage properly. "F-f-fuck...the f-f-fuck is wrong with me..." she murmurs.
* Spectre nuzzles Milia "Go see Atom."
* Milia pulls away from Spectre's nuzzle quickly. "N-no! Goddess dammit we've s-still got p-p-ponies to take c-care of out here!"
<Milia> "I'm f-f-fine!"
* Spectre frowns "Alright, but the first sign you're not feeling well I'm dragging you off to Atom myself."
* AtomBell pauses, "I'm going to go get water, um, if somepony could help me bring it back?"
<uSeaGM> A couple of the slaves nod their heads and follow Atom helpfully.
* Milia shakes her head. "G-g-goddess, Spec...c'mon...they h-hardly even t-t-touched me...let's j-just...just keep w-w-working."
* Spectre frowns and heads over to the pony that was trying to organize everyone. He seemed leadery, chances are he probably has a key.
<AtomBell> "Thanks!" she leads them to the kitchen and starts filling buckets from the sink, asking her assistants to round up glasses.
* Spectre finds a large key stuck in a pocket. Looks like it'd fit the locks on the slave cages. She pulls it out and trots over to the first Cage and tests it on the lock
<uSeaGM> The cage door swings open and the occupants look up at Spectre tentatively.
* AtomBell carries the buckets back and starts winging out water to the throng.
<uSeaGM> A mare's voice can be heard throughout the camp, amplified by a spell of some sort. “This ends now. You ponies aren't raiders or even the NCR. That makes things nice and simple. Put down your weapons and let us into the base or every single slave is going to die.”
<uSeaGM> It sounds like the voice is coming from near the slave cages on the north side. Gunfire, which had become intermittent as the militia moved through the camp, dwindles away. One shot breaks the silence, eerily loud now the fighting had stopped.
* Spectre smiles to herself "Everypony out of the pool! don't wander too far though until we can do something about those colla-" she stops and turns, looking for the source of the voice, her rifle floating off her back again as she reloads it
* AtomBell 's ears flick back
* Milia was trotting cautiously towards the slave cage herself, not wanting to terrify the slaves. She snaps her attention toward the direction of the voice, a look of supreme anger making its way onto her face, her tail beginning to flick back and forth; her ears folding back in agitation.
<Milia> "N-n-no you fucking DON'T!" she practically begins to smolder as she fumes quietly, still shaking off the residual effects of the Dash.  She gallops over to the edge of the caravan, peering her head out from behind the truck to get a better look.
<uSeaGM> A dozen armed slavers stand in front of one of the north slave cages, purposely putting the slaves at risk if they were fired upon. Their leader is an earth pony mare with a grim smile. Her battle-saddled rifle smokes gently. In her tail she holds a detonator, the kind that activates when you release the trigger. In front of her is Short Stop, huddled over a terrified slave filly and bleeding from a bullet wound in his shoulder.
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<uSeaGM> The militia move up to form a semi-circle around them, using carts and crates as cover while keeping their rifles trained on the slavers. They seem unsure of what to do, and don't want to shoot if they might hit the slaves in the cage.
* Spectre watches the mare through her scope
* Milia has to stop herself from simply barreling out toward the slavers. "Wh-what the fuck is wrong with you?!" she calls out. "D-d-did you just shoot your own f-f-fucking son?!"
* Artifica scowls, furious.  "Oh this is not happening like this."
<uSeaGM> The mare, Rundown, laughs. "I should have thrown that brat in the river when he was born."
<uSeaGM> "You did," Short Stop mutters through clenched teeth.
* Artifica looks to the others.  "Do we have a way yet to disarm those things?"
* Artifica has Spirit of Riddles... which could help for one collar at a time, but it could take days for her to cast it on all of them.
* Spectre mutters "Nope."
* Milia remains silent for a few moments, gritting her teeth as she listens to the exchange. "S-s-so how does it happen?...How does a pony g-get as f-f-fucking broken as you? Th-that's what I jsut c-c-can't understand, n-n-no matter how many of your t-type I meet and then end up killing, I j-just don't understand it. Wh-what the f-f-fuck is the point to you?!"
<uSeaGM> "Then I should have shot the old nag who fished you out!" These charming family memories distract her for a moment.
* AtomBell looks apprehensively around at the ponies crowded around her.  There was no way she could get their collars off without them exploding.
<Spectre> "Arty, can you hold the detonator from here?"
* Spectre whispers that of course
<uSeaGM> Rundown's eyes narrow at Milia. "That's how the world works, stripey. The conquered have no say. Letting them work for us is a mercy. If we were raiders they'd already be dead."
* Artifica whispers back, "Yes.  But only if she doesn't bat it out of my telekinetic grasp."  With a frown, she adds,  "And as long as none of the slavers get the bright idea to shoot it."
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* Artifica doesn't even bother to add: as long as none of them are unicorns more powerful than I.  She has a horrible plan for that.
<Spectre> "I say that chance is all we have. I don't know about you, but I refuse to back down. I can take her down as you grab it."
* Artifica nods.  "The glow of my magic is the signal."
<uSeaGM> "I'll say it again. Drop your weapons or the slaves die. It must be such a bore being 'good' ponies."
* Spectre nods, sighting the mares head with her scope "Roger."
* Artifica focuses on the detonator, wrapping it in a field of magic.  She holds the trigger closed, her magic enveloping the end of the mare's tail.  Then Artifica kicks open her spell closet and readies to yank out one of the spells.
* Spectre sends a trio of rounds at the mare as soon as she sees Artifica's magic envelop the detonator
* Milia calls back out. "M-m-mercy? D-don't even fucking try to t-tell me you have the c-capacity in that f-fucked up head of y-y-yours to do anyth-th-thing that even closely resembles m-m-mercy!" she bursts from her cover as she hears Specre fires of a fusillade of rounds.
<Milia> ((Spectre*))
<uSeaGM> Taken completely by surprise, Spectre's shots bowl Rundown over, tearing out the strands of her tail held by Artifica in the process.
<Spectre> "Bring it here!" She yells at Arty
* Artifica hears Spectre's shots and doesn't wait to see the mare go down.  She triggers the spell in her spell closet: teleport.  Instantly, she is at the mare, grabbing at the detonator with her teeth, using her physical strength to augment that of her magic (and prevent a unicorn from just contesting the detonator away from her).
* Spectre blinks "That works! Be careful!"
* Milia charges forward, screaming at the top of her lungs at the slaves, trying to get to Artifica and back the unicorn up. "RUN, YOU IDIOTS!" ((speech...92 *headdesk*))
* Artifica intended to just teleport back... but finds to her shock that the mare is apparently not quite dead yet.  For a moment, she blinks, unable to trigger her battle saddle with her mouth full of detonator and tail.  But Artifica is versatile, and that is what telekinesis is for.
<uSeaGM> The slavers behind her burst into action, one or two pressing detonator-like things desperately. The crack of an Anti Material rifle strikes their formation in the side, wiping out their back line in a instant. 5 slavers remain to face Milia's charge, and she's joined by a member of the militia.
<Artifica> Ten bullets tear out of Artifica's battle saddle, each imbued with Spirit of Diamond... and then both sides of her saddle jam on her.  Still, the attack was easily enough to obliterate the mare.
<Artifica> (make that: four bullets)
* Milia turns to the pony beside her: "YOU! L-L-LEFT!" she barks out quickly, as she veers to the right and sets her sights on the nearest hostile.
<uSeaGM> One of Artifica's stray bullets unluckily strikes a slave. Good thing AtomBell had set up an emergency ward!
* Milia descends upon one of the five in a flurry of red. The Dash might be out of her system, but she's still got enough energy to throw herself into a fight. Especially when she's up against slavers! One such slaver unfortunately is the target of such an onslaught, suffering a few quick strikes from a very angry zebra, finally having his windpipe crushed from a one two buck from a pair of very sharp spiked shoes.
<uSeaGM> The militia fighter pulverises another slaver beneath his power hooves. The few survivors fight back in a panic... mostly missing but one lands a lucky point blank shot on Milia.
* Milia is coated in yet another coat of fresh red fluid, some of it being her own this time. She whimpers pathetically, coughing up blood as the round passes through a weak spot in her barding and sinks into her flesh.
* Spectre swears "Milia!"
* Artifica takes the first chance she gets to teleport back to "safety" with the detonator held tight.
* Spectre starts moving towards Milia, taking two shots at one of the slavers still standing as she's in transit
* Milia looks to the pony who shot her, death in her eyes. "I'm f-f-ine Spec...I th-think...Slick here's g-g-gonna need to put more than a s-s-single round in me to take me d-d-down..." she calls out. "He won't be getting another shot! RRAAARGH!"
* Milia gets her revenge and then some, bloodying the pony who shot her before finally snapping his neck. She's starting to wobble on her hooves, the withdrawal from the drugs, her wounds, and the extensive fighting are clearly getting to you. Youthful vigor only goes so much, it seems.
<Milia> ((getting to her*))
<Milia> ((dammit listening to things that influence my typing!))
<uSeaGM> Power hooves strikes again and another slaver falls. One remains, bleeding heavily from the wounds made by Spectre.
<uSeaGM> His head explodes, shortly followed by the echo of a distant AM rifle.
<uSeaGM> The slavers are dead, yippee!