[b]Eve:[/b] Eve grabbed Alpha and Kris by the wrist and, in a flash of radiation and energy, they were gone into the main battlefield with Winchester and Sawyer. More troops had presumably moved into the battlefield, and Eve had an idea. “Kris, you know that thing?” Kris grinned and nodded, unsheathing a gun-sword: cutlass blade, .50 caliber. Eve unsheathed her own blade- matte black with a red finish on the leather-wrapped grip. The same as her father. “Let's do this.” [i]“I think Sawyer has them under control, and Drake and Winnie the tanks. Focus on infantry.”[/i] [b]Winchester:[/b] Winchester immediately began to fire upon the tanks with his autocannon (which could’ve very well have been on a ship’s wing), mass reactive bolts slamming into plated armor with furious claps of thunder. To avoid being hit by the tank shells too much, Winchester made use of the thrusters built into his greaves, frequently and sporadically darting short distances to mitigate the damage his shields took. [b]Drake:[/b] Drake rolled the ship, allowing his PTDs to shoot the missiles down with a wider firing arc. He diverted energy from the ship’s capacitor from his shields to his engines, and boosted towards the fleeing bombers. This time, he spun up the ship’s massive anti-personnel autocannons, mounted on gimbal for added precision, and opened fire on the entire convoy of aircraft from close-quarters as they finished their bombing run on Eve’s position. Drake glanced to the side of his cockpit, wondering if his friends had survived the volley, and gritted his teeth. It didn’t matter right now. He still had a job to do. And for now, he had the biggest guns on the field. This time, his sensors were given priority power, and he was able to detect the tanks in the woods. Hatches opened up on the hull of the Arrowhead as seeker missile racks revealed themselves, and opened up on the tanks. Each supersonic “missile” opened up to reveal a cluster of micro-missiles, which broke off from their parent projectile and swarmed the tanks on the ground, overwhelming any PDT they might have. These were MBTs--they weren’t meant to shoot at spacecraft. He kept himself above their firing arc for several seconds, unloading his volleys before taking off into the distance, preparing himself for another attack run. [b]Sawyer:[/b] As Sawyer sprinted towards the firing line of soldiers, a red cloak of energy enveloped his figure entirely, and armor soon formed around his being. It was red, polished, and smooth to the touch, like it had never before sustained damage. The bullets simply dinged off of his armor, not leaving as much of a scratch when the discarded bullets fell to the grass, and Sawyer’s sprint did not falter. Internally, needles within the suit began to pulsate with powerful tonics, injecting into every artery in his body and sending the potent elixirs flying through the bloodstream. Black, engorged veins bulged from his skin beneath the heavy armor and pulsated as more of the elixir pumped through his body. His sprint dramatically increased in speed, now barreling towards the firing line as if he were a freight train; his muscles became swollen, ripe flesh that pulsed with raw power and threatened to rip from his skin; and his face, now exposed, began to fall under a sweeping spell of delirium as he continued to barrel forward but seemingly with no indication of where he was going. The spring-coil embedded within the hilt of his blade groaned and it extended, the ending of the weapon blackening and radiating with a light blue energy that made the air around it ripple with unbridled vorpal power. He held it behind his back with a steel grip, as if the sheer raw power within the short sword threatened to make it spring from his hand and destroy the vicinity surrounding it. Despite the power of the weapon sheathed behind his back, his legs did not falter in their maddened sprint.