Monday Again...

Continued from previous post...

The ground shook as the heavily armored (and armed), yet deceptively maneuverable A.I.M. tanks bulldozed through the dense forest, in search of the intruders. Retractable saws along the grill of the war machines cleared trees in moments. The tanks spread out in six directions; two going to the east of the main entrance, two to the west, and two more moving out directly ahead parallel to each other, in the direction of tripped motion sensors. With each tank, three assault jeeps followed close, with troopers hopping off at regular intervals and searching the perimeter.
Rictor saw all this, the wrist mounted computer relaying satellite information in real time, giving him a heads-up display of all the troop movements not obscured by the forest left intact. Beside him, M leaned to get a sense of the situation and tensed.
“Buckethead has put his in a bit of mess, now, hasn’t he?” M began adjusting her clothes, making sure her gloves were tight around her hands. It was supposed to make her look battle-ready, but Rictor could tell she was at the very least, concerned.
“They’re comin’, princess.” He closed the computer with the reinforced faceplate. Taking three deep breaths, he tried to recall everything Cable ever told him about battle strategies and small squad team dynamics. An A.I.M. tank was just fifty feet below the thick tree branch Rictor and M were using as a rudimentary camp. Rictor turned to M. “Ever watch Ronin Warriors?” Rictor jumped off the branch and clapped his hands together.
“QUAKE WITH FEAR!!”
Before the A.I.M. could respond, a hundred foot trench opened beneath the tank, swallowing it whole. The ruptured ground rushed up and met Rictor before he could fall for any injurable distance. The three accompanying jeeps swerved to avoid joining the tank in the trench, but Rictor blasted two with his seismic blasts, shaking the engines apart.

M divebombed, caving in the third jeep and sending A.I.M. scattering. Rictor rushed forward, dropkicking the first trooper to raise his weapon. Blasting the other troopers in the guts, Rictor broke into the closet jeep and jacked into its onboard computer. Quickly, he downloaded the radio frequencies and full numbers of the A.I.M. army, and sent them to Nova’s helmet.
Plasma bursts rained down on the attack site and M and Rictor dove for cover. Troops were approaching from three fronts, laying down suppressive fire. More jeeps were in approach with rumbling indicating another tank wasn’t far behind.
M flew straight up, drawing fire from most of the A.I.M. Rictor sent tremors through the ground around him, creating a wide trench and high rock obstacles. With the troopers disoriented, M struck. She picked up one of the disabled jeeps and used it as battering ram. A.I.M. fell like tenpins before her, and Rictor jumped up, plasma rifles in both hands spraying bolt after bolt.
They couldn’t believe their eyes, watching as a red beam sheared their tank in two. Invisible hands pulled the pieces apart and sent them flying into the dense foliage. Their cover ripped apart, the troopers were unable to defend against the whirlwind of destruction taking apart every squad he came against.

Mimic grabbed a trooper by the face and flung him into his fellow soldiers, while freezing the jeeps in their tracks. Unable to move, the jeeps were easy targets for Mimic’s optic blasts. He raised pieces of the destroyed jeeps as floating shields, and flew towards the base.
A blast of immense size caught Mimic in his blind dash, blowing apart his shields and sending him crashing into the ground. Before he could rise completely to his feet, he was blasted again, barely able to raise a telekinetic shield to dispel most of the force. Mimic flew up into the trees, then began leaping from branch to branch haphazardly. Plasma blasts trailed after him, the gunners unable to anticipate his erratic movements.
Mimic returned fire, catching the tank in its treads. Deflecting shots from the troopers weapons, he flew down and froze the cannon of the attacking tank. His telekinesis ripped the brittle cannon away from the tank and he fired optic blasts into the tank’s cab.
A.I.M. troopers surrounded the winged menace, and now he realized how much the tank’s blasts took out of him. The concentrated fire of plasma rifles wear away at his tk shield, forcing him to fly for cover, but now troopers on anti-grav sleds were in pursuit. They were relentless, and possessed better accuracy than the ones sent after Nova earlier.
Forced to ground again, Mimic attacked wildly, hoping to get as many troopers off of him by filling the area with power. A rifle butt hit him in the upper back, sending him to his knees.

The downside to his plan-besides an actual lack of planning-was that the huge expenditure of energy left him nearly defenseless, and using his eyes for weapons stopped him from seeing the troopers sneaking up from behind. Now, with him on his knees, the troopers were converging, though most were fearful of the man who was single-handedly taking them apart.
“Freak trash. Not so hot, now,” the trooper punctuated with another shot to Mimic’s back. Mimic collapsed, struggling to get to his feet and failing. The trooper raise his gun to hit him again, when small orbs dropped down amidst the troopers, smoke quickly taking all visibility in the immediate area around Mimic. Before the troopers could adjust their visors, the trooper standing over Mimic was tasered in the small of his back. Hands grabbed Mimic and dragged him deep into the forest before the A.I.M. could get their bearings.