The second kind, and the ones I prefer working with, are small town PMCs, those of a dozen or so members who give a damn about who they work for and don't shoot civilians. They normally work as cleaners or guards, taking on antithesis instead. I am a sponsor for a few of those, bt-dubs chat.
The last kind are the worst of the worst and I pray to the Protectors that none of you ever have to deal with them, and those are corpo grown PMCs. Zealots, the lot of them. Walking, talking war crimes with the backing to protect them and egg them on. Crazy bastards who will do anything for the corpo they swore their loyalty towards, who owns their entire lives. You can't reason with them, you can't negotiate with them. If they stand between a Sam and their goals, the only option is to wipe them out.
… No, BalzD3ep, I do not condone sleeping with their mothers. That would mean sleeping with a corpo, and I would rather fuck a cactus.
-Vanguard Red Menace talking to chat while waiting for a lobby in Full Metal Conflict.
Hovering over the battlefield and raining ordinance down upon armored targets was surprisingly enjoyable. Each normal tank hit by a missile crunched satisfyingly, each APC shredded by my cannon flew and crumpled in such unique ways. And seeing that oversized land whale of a Command center beached on its side from Shrew digging out a huge rut underneath it was peak comedy from where I sat. The super heavy tanks had also fallen into other holes she dug, which prompted me to send a note to Morrigan, requesting there be no strictly ground based vehicles in any plans she makes going forward.
It was shocking seeing a super heavy tank missing more than half of its upper half as High Noon's bullet ripped through it as it tried to get a bead on one of my shuttles. With Leman, Vulkan, and Jim tearing through the ground troops, I decided to be a bit cheeky to relieve some of my anger.
Certainly.
In my network, I could feel a new sensation as my Scout Swarms infiltrated the mobile command center. I could feel them connect to their computers and feel how the software functioned. Each firewall and ICE measure simply dissipated before the Scouts.
This is the first time you have tried to perform electronic infiltration since your Class II Neural upgrades. Each swarm is an extension of your body and capabilities, thus these new sensations are merely them connecting deeper to you.
I suppose that makes sense. I look back to the southern hive assault and try to focus on the feelings of everything happening. Pulling up the memories, I realize that I only had some Scout Swarms and a decent amount of Assault swarms connected to me directly, while I had delegated the rest to my Commanders. I could remember the feelings of biting and clawing my way through the antithesis, as well as the expanded sphere of senses the Scouts offered that I had long taken for granted, but any senses from my commanders was muddy at beat.
Correct. I would have mentioned doing so earlier, but an opportune time never really presented itself. That said, you can override the central command room at any time, Victor.
I turn my attention to the… Bastion of Dawn? God that's pretentious. I see that the holo table is set to receive video calls, so I decide to project a large view of myself towering above the commander First Sergeant… Flanders? Really? No, don't just dismiss him, Victor, he might be a reasonable sort. Unlike Billy.
I snorted at that thought as I forced through the call. I saw the room held a dozen or so other staff, and a man in his forties holding his arm as if it's injured. I looked down at Flanders, narrowing my eyes and straightening my back.
“I'm here to deliver the Memo.”
I saw his eyes widened in... anger? That was not the expression I was hoping to see, to be honest. Fear, surrender, maybe relief would have been preferable, but anger spoke to zealotry, and nothing good could come of speaking to zealots.
“I am-” he started before I cut him off.
“You are a suicidal idiot willingly working for a Corp that declared war on Samurai, who green lit an operation to kidnap their families to force them into compliance.” I sighed, dropping my stern posture. “Any justification you could spout is idiotic and probably morally wrong. I will give you once chance to surrender, however, allowing what remains of your men to survive. Your answer?”
I could see his face grow red in anger as I saw him clutch his injured arm tighter. I saw his men turn to look at him, eyes not filled with hope or resignation, but determination. I saw his face harden, and I could guess what his answer was going to be, so I just sighed deeper. “Very well. I take no pleasure in killing your men, but a message needs to be made. Dont Fuck With Samurai.”
I disconnected the call, sending a message through my network. “No mercy…” I could feel Baba Yaga, Leman, Viktor, and Jim grow muted briefly, understanding flowing through our connection. I was glad Cari wasn't here for this, she didn't need to see this side of me.
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A signal rang out from the Bastion that emanated from a device not on its network, and suddenly thirty logistics vehicles near the back of the column shuddered slightly as their sides and rear opened up. From within flowed out humanoid forms that quickly ballooned in size, growing claws and eyes stalks and started rushing towards my commanders. Five more in the back had swarms of huge bug-like monsters fly from them, trying to cling onto the closest shuttle. Baba Yaga opened fire with the smaller guns, yet the bullets only seemed to have stunned those they hit, requiring four guns to focus fire on one bug to kill it.
Speeding up my perception, I focused my new sensors on the new enemies and felt a wave of disgust overcome me.
They appear to be human hybrids of two different alien species. The Klaxautoma and the Grelnests, the land and air species respectively. There are records of Vanguard using technologies and biologies from these two different species, however they are on other continental landmass, and both were confirmed KIA eight years ago in an incursion in Shanghai.
Yes. The Grelnests as a species were silicon based, eating metals to survive rather than organics. They will be able to tear through the armor of your shuttles as well as eat your swarms if you let them. The Klaxautoma, on the other hand, are more akin to the late Mantis Shrimp that once inhabited South East Asia, where their claws utilize cavitational exothermic explosions to hunt. With these scans, I can confirm that they are capable of damaging your combat Commanders as well as their minions. However, their armored hide is considerably weaker than the original species, being closer in toughness to a Four rather than a Fourteen.
It is possible, but the Grelnests are very fast. Annoyingly, their anatomy is preventing any deeper scans with the Void Watcher sensors. I have updated this interaction with the Protectors database, as those two races have never interacted before.
I take a deep breath, then send this new information to my Commanders.
[General,] Vulkan says, [Even if we take a few hits, we can be repaired. We are not as fragile as you humans, and we do not feel pain as you do.]
I wanted to argue, to insist that it didn't matter, by then Baba Yaga responded first. [Victor, child, we cannot die. We have linked to The DM Screen already, and our cores can simply evacuate there in case of a problem. Our bodies mean nothing, Victor. Don't let your fear paralyze you. You are our General. You must be able to make choices devoid of fear involving us, as we are extremely hard to kill. Let us do the tasks we were made for.]
I let her words sink in, realizing that I am simply afraid. I nearly lost Jill again earlier today, yet she was fine. Leman made sure she would be safe, and thus far none of my commanders have taken serious damage in any combat scenario we have had. No one here is being forced to make a suicidal decision like Jill once had, and we all have the gear and the training to overcome this.
[We will, Victor.] Baba Yaga says, her voice soft. [Now, get out of the combat zone. We will be fine, but you are still in danger since you do not have a spare body yet. Go, shoo.]
Chuckling, I resumed normal time and forced my shuttle to fly backwards and upwards rapidly, going full speed to leave the range of the Grelnests, trusting in my commanders, no. Trusting my family to survive and win.
************************************
Leman
I feel the trust of my Lord wash over me, helped by the words of the Old One. I see the abominations flood towards me, their claws meaty at the end of whip like arms, their eyes poking from their bodies on stalks of thick muscle, and I snarl in excitement. Our Lord has put his faith and trust in us to kill these creatures, and we shall fulfill his wish with gusto.
My pack all begin to shift, their fur spinning around their bodies, glowing white with their plasma sheath, the heat contained by electromagnetic fields just strong enough to control their form. Their teeth and claws elongated, glowing just as brightly as the rest of them. The Smoll One likened these forms to 'murder fluffy balls', and I had a hard time disagreeing with her.
I shift as well. I grow taller, my dimensionally shunted storage disgorging the rest of me as I activate my true combat form. My face elongated and grew more lupine in nature, and two more heads grew on my shoulders. My arms grow thicker, claws outstretched, my legs following suit, shifting to digitigrade in nature. Three tails sprout from my rear, each hair a monofilament branch and thermally charged. I tower above them, easily five times my original size and mass, and I grin.
I howl and the air shakes, the tide of flesh flinched slightly, as if hit by a preassure wave. Then we charge into the mass, diving headlong to revel in the violence our Lord has granted us. With every swing of my claws, thin blades of plasma fly through the crowd, cutting down multiple abominations at a time. Every turn I make, I slash through arms and eyes, and flesh flies. I bite and tear and consume to my core's content. I feel the blows of the abominations slam against me, feeling my armor crack and shift, but I ignore it. I feel my pack slicing through the carpet of flesh and xenos material, and hear them howl in excitement.
I feel some of them take hits, their claws burning in exchange to take legs or disrupting attacks, but my pack simply laughs. We dance and bite and claw our way through as all of us begin to sing.
Our foes sharpen their claws, yet ours sharper still
Their fangs are long and thirst for blood, yet ours longer still
Their flesh is strong and full of hate, yet ours is stronger still
They seek to crush all we hold dear, yet our will remains stalwart still
Let loose the Wolves of War, let their hunger fly free
For our foes fall before our might, while we remain eternal still
Our chorus fills the battlefield as blood and flesh mingle on the earth below. I see the Burning One in the distance, laughing in the inferno he and his created. I feel the thump of his hammer through the ground as I see waves of plasma explode around him. I see the Old One above, controlling the nine shuttles in her own dance of death, firing every gun, every missile into the cloud of strange beetle people. I see the cloud has shrunk, but it will be some time before she finishes.
A massive blow catches me off guard as my left arm goes flying, my frame below damaged. I leap at the cause of the blow, an abomination made of four of these things mashed together, their claws merged into one massive weapon. I swipe a claw at it as another blow lands on my chest, pushing me back. I feel my armor falling away, the nanites having been crushed to powder. My arm regrows as I swipe my right arm once more, distracting it as my pack circles, launching saws of plasma at its limbs.
It punches out, hitting Grohm and sending him flying. I feel a majority of him break and I leap once more, anger filling my core. I land upon it, biting and ripping into it, and it falls into a heap. I howl in rage and triumph, knowing the battle marches on.