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Immovable Rod Master Prc Let Result



Ajax panned his head across the room, looking at the buckled, torn wall plating, spewing coolant. The coolant was leaking into minor hull breaches in the pressure hull beneath them. The fibre optic power control cable was severely damaged by the explosion, resulting in it being severed. Ajax walked , scanning the room.




Immovable Rod Master Prc Let Result



Standing, he lifted his unfinished plate on walked to the door, dropping the food in front of the first Spartan he walked past. Before the surprised soldier could utter a word of thanks, Logan was out the door and out into the corridor. Brushing past a lanky, dark Spartan- what's his name? Mwenye? - Logan continued until he reached his quarters. Normally he shared them with another Spartan, an exec from Charlie, but for now it was empty. Walking to his bunk, he picked up a long, slim object wrapped in olive green cloth and slowly unwrapped it. It was a katana he'd acquired years ago. Drawing it from its sheath, Logan began to slowly move, flowing into his normal training regimen. He'd mastered the form decades ago, but still practiced it for leisure. The quicker movements were actually quite intensive, though. As he picked up speed, Logan felt his pulse increase.


"What's going on?" He demanded. He looked at the holo, and saw why. He cracked up too. A SPARTAN-IV computer genius had decided to upload a virus into the combat sim replays, resulting in dead grunt bodies to explode into confetti. It was admitedly hillarious.


Shivering slightly, Nigel went on mending broken cables, reconnecting severed lines, and sealing leaks. Thanks to sloppy work by Navy technicians and the already poor condition of the battlecrusier, virtually the entire space aboard the Campbeltown allotted to Bear Squadron was inhabitable. Broken heating had resulted in spectacular formations of ice clinging to nearly every bulkhead, and thanks to several short-circuits, not even the emergency lighting was functioning.


Ixalus approached the docking port, moving with his repair crew, mostly formed from a collection of Grunt and Yanme'e slaves. He barked at them to move their gear forward, with the Brute slave master barking crude insults and orders at their underlings.


Novus stepped up from the black crate, Pyroneous Industries' orange symbol painted on the front, holding something with both hands. He turned around to face the Captain with a smile on his face. A smile emerged on the Captain's face too. They stood there examining the masterpiece in Novus's hands. A custom made, titanium-platinum alloy headed, sabre-gravity battle axe took the limelight of the two Brutes, and suddenly stole the gazes of other personnel in the room.


The Ultimatum Switch Protocol is now in effect. Under high priority order Alpha-Nine-Two, you are to prepare to meet with Shadow Wolf tonight. Failure to follow said order and its subordinate agreements will result in death. This information is to be kept secret under all circumstances, violating this will result in death. The fate of your personnel and other combatants is undeclared; stay alive at all costs even at the expense of others.


Ajax picked up his rifle and stood up out of cover, the scope brought up to his eye. He immediately brought it on to the closest Brute and opened up with the battle rifle on full automatic, casings flying from the ejection port. The others vacated the room, leaving Ajax alone as a number of Brutes pushed in. As the rifle ran dry, he leapt between two aisles of consoles onto his side, ripping out a magazine and fitting in a new one. He crouched back up and fired on a Brute trying to get towards the central console, the four round burst stopping it dead. Another burst from cover to reach the central console. Ajax leapt to the console and leapt through the air, clearing the centre of the room, a four metre gap and landed on the Brute with his knees, its rib cage collapsing. He rolled off, firing on its comrade, strafing it from its left knee to the right shoulder, almost chopping it in half. He rolled up to the next closest one slicing up the butt of his rifle to the Brute's Spiker, knocking it out of its hands then hitting it in the chin with the butt stock, breaking its jaw. It stumbled back, allowing him to punch several rounds into its head. A second Brute leapt at him, trying to cut him with the bayonets on his carbine. Ajax kicked upwards, knocking the Carbine from its hand then delivered a spin kick to its face, knocking it sideways. The third Brute tried to skewer him, resulting in Ajax parrying the blow with his rifle, breaking its elbow with the butt stock and firing into its knee, dropping it down. He stepped behind it as it fell, pulling the rifle to its neck, choking it. He tightened it, the Brute's claws feebly pulling at it, resulting in a cracking noise as it's windpipe collapsed. He kicked its struggling body away. Preparing to reload his rifle when another trio of Brutes stormed up to the left entrance. Ajax picked up one of the dropped Spikers, immediately firing at them off hand, filling the leading captain with red hot spikes and incapacitating his point guard. The Brute stumbled backwards as his comrade leapt out, enraged, determined to get close and avenge his commander. Ajax tossed the empty Spiker into a roll, grabbing onto the receiver then threw the weapon forward like a dart, striking the Brute in the chest. The twin bayonets cleaved through his armour and carved into it's chest, knocking it back onto it's back. It gurgled in pain, both blades penetrating lungs.


Ross fired off a Gorgon missile at one of the the Seraphs, the missile struck the bottom of the fighter and blew it apart in a ball of plasma and fire, which quickly fizzled out into a debris field do to lack of oxygen. Ross fired a second missile at yet another Seraph, with predictable results. Ross's third and fourth missiles took out two more Seraphs as the last two he fired in that pass disposed of a pair of Phantoms. 350c69d7ab


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