An army of gremlins sat huddled behind sandbag barriers as Sentenza rounds whizzed over their heads. Sickness was rampant in the gremlin camp, and there was a quickly-expanding pile of dead bodies behind it. The knights weren't faring much better; many of them were suffering from third-degree burns inflicted by gremlin scorchers, and countless others were shredded and shattered by the vicious rocket-hammers of vengeful thwackers.
But Astran was nowhere near the action. He had discovered an outpost near the back of the level, protected by an array of battlepods and Red Rocket Rovers (dubbed "red pups" by the knights). He slid in front of a wall and waited for the gremlin sentries to pass before cloaking and boosting through. Not far away stood a large makeshift command center, where a weary-looking gremlin commander had just stepped inside. He boosted through before the door shut and hid underneath the commander's bed, where he de-cloaked to recharge and listen in on the battle plans.
"Water?"
"Certainly. Here."
"Thanks Lumberfist."
Lumberfist sighed and planted his paws on the map table. "So what's the scoop, Grimlock?"
Commander Grimlock brushed back his ears and though for a few moments. "We're kind of in a stalemate, and the sickness isn't helping."
"Think we could just wait it out?"
"They'd send in their Strikers if we did that."
"Maybe. Do we have enough smashers to hold them off?"
"Like I said, the sickness isn't helping. They've got it too, you know. They'll be slain on the first run."
"Then we even the odds. Send some Jokers out there."
"No pun intended, but...are you joking? We know how effective our knockers are."
"Yeah..."
The two gremlins stood in grim silence for a few minutes. Astran was getting bored, and was just about to find an exit when Grimlock spoke up again. "How about we construct some rovers a little ways behind the lines?"
"Why? What would that buy us?"
"I think the knights are running out of Strikers. They don't have the boosting power to continually evade the rockets, and their weak armor would mean they'd be killed in just a couple shots."
"Won't they just make a break for the turrets and destroy them before they're built? We both know how foolhardy those knights can be."
"They probably would make a break for them, but I think our army is capable of stopping them before that happens. That's why they're being built behind the lines."
"I see..."
"I'm going to order it done. Any further ideas before I go?"
"Yeah, could you grab me a brew while you're at it?"
"Consider it done, my friend."
Grimlock opened the door to step out. Astran boosted in front of him, narrowly avoiding contact, and slipped back outside just as the gremlin stepped out the door. He boosted to the front wall and decloaked. Nuts, how would we counter that? Never mind, just do your job... He waited for his cloak to recharge, re-cloaked, and boosted back to the knights' camp.
((OOC: I'm prepared to select a player to be the camp commander. ^_^))
"They're in trouble."
The man, not getting up from the comfort of his soft leather swivel chair that welcomed shadows around its edges, heaved up his right hand from underneath the mahogany table to reveal a shiny paper that glistened in the blinking fluorescent effulgence. His fingers grasped it tightly for a moment, sending streaks of creases to spread across the paper, before he eased his grip on it, slowly handing it to the young man.
"You'll need this information... Jack."
The handsome figure whom he was talking to flashed a striking grin as he swiped the paper away from the man in a flash, before tucking it into his right pocket on the side of his Vog Cub Coat. The older man's frail eyes were struggling to keep up with Jack's quickness as he simply chuckled quietly, before speaking.
"I'm sure I won't disappoint."