![]() Very heavy damage to anti-orbital defenses. Turn 3 Production reduced by 5%, except for Infantry Production, which has been reduced by 10%. 10% Initial Forces in all categories except for Infantry (15%) and recently-researched units like tanks (0%). While on the outskirts, Pandarel Guerrillas looked at the aftermath of the conflict they had seen been unleashed and wondered what titanic and no-doubt world-shaking dispute could have caused the two allies to resort to force of arms against each other. Whether that was against each other or some other foe however, was still up for debate. In the aftermath, both sides retired to their respective territory to lick their wounds and prepare for the next battle. Between them was the wreckage of thousands of warships and billions of dead in the largest battle the two factions had ever fought each other in, while shipyards, factories, mining installations, and more were left as rubble that would need to be rebuilt. With some reluctance and no small amount of "on-the-spot court martials", fighting finally died down between Grineer and Corpus forces across New Origin. Battle of the Billboards Part 3: The Actual Ceasefire Institute anti-infiltration measures, and place all defending units on high alert.Ĭlick to shrink. Those who do not comply, or who cannot be communicated with for whatever reason are to be immediately eliminated. Nightwatch corps are to spread orders to all fielded units to immediately halt any offensive actions, and fall back to the nearest defensive position. "Dissidents eliminated." Rasped their leader. Hundreds of meters away, across the massive hangar, and through a ventilation grate a small squad of Nightwatch lancers racked the bolts on their Grinlock repeating rifles, spent shells clattering to the floor. He turned, and watched with burning hate as the Corpus transport cleared the stations shields and flew to freedom, worrying as to what it would tell its superiors.Īnd then a slug through the eye ensured he'd not have to worry about it any longer. Eventually, Gur'nu was all that remained standing. Lancers fell to the ground in droves, clutching perfectly landed neck wounds and mauled faces. Gur'nu watched in mounting horror in disbelief as his squad was picked apart, no matter what cover they sought, no matter where they searched for the enemy. A Trooper spun, a hole punched clean through its armored helmet, and beside him another lancer fell to its knees, clutching the wound in its throat. One of Gur'nu's shocked lancers was pitched off their feet, a spray of blood clouding the air. "What?" Gur'nu spun around, enraged to find the heavy gunner slumped against a wall, outlined by a splatter of blood around her helm, the neat hole in it leaking gas.Īnother crack. It stood still for a moment, before slowly tipping over, and crashing to the ground, a neat hole drilled between its eyes. There was a distant crack, but the bombard did not fire. "Who are you, to give me orders?" He growled, before pushing her away and turning back to the bombard. The commander reached around, grabbing the heavy gunner by her own collar, and slamming her helm into hers. "It is just one crewman!" Gur'nu bellowed. ![]() ![]() ![]() We are to fall back to defensive positions!" A heavy gunner stood behind him, restraining him with one arm. "Gur'nu, no!" A hand grabbed him by the collar, pulling him back. ![]() Gur'nu raised one hand, the order to fire primed on his lips. The mottled greys of the hulking bombard pushed their way through the front ranks, its massive rocket launcher levelled at the retreating craft. The ship was still in range, if that damn bombard would get to the front then maybe- ah, but there it was now. Commander Gur'nu ground his malformed teeth together. Corpus transport sped away, engines humming even as gunfire patterned away at its flanks. ![]()
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