Sorte ripple-dropped cluster-bombs above the highest concentration of enemy troops he could find. Before the traitors could react, the area was saturated with hundreds of small bomblets which exploded on impact, severing limbs and ripping apart bodies. His wingmen executed expert rocket-strikes on the lightly armored APC's. Some managed to get a few shots off with their side-mounted lasguns, before getting gutted by armour-piercing rockets exploding inside and eviscerated anything in their way. All that was left behind being scored and gored earth, punctuated only by the screams of the dying and the burning wrecks of torn up APCs. The three strikers pulled up hard to rejoin the formation above, paired with las-shots and hard-rounds from below. A stray shot managed to graze the wing of Dusters plane, but did not do any damage worth thinking about. Duster's flight barely reached formation altitude before their place was filled by two other strikers bearing down on the enemy infantry,
Beta Company, Southern Flank, The Creek Bed- "Manny, where the hell are you?" the young soldier grunted under his breath. His long-time friend and comrade-in-arms had sped off to the munitions dump for spare charge-packs and ammo-mags. Throne knows where he was now, almost everyone in his squad was running low. Whatever they had left wouldn't last long. The sarge had ordered everyone on single-shot. Full auto would only waste precious ammo. Manny should have been back by now. The soldier hoped he would be back soon or he would run dry, the heretics where showing none of the restraint or hesitation they had around the Terminal and command centre. He had three magazines left, and the enemy was barely dozens of metres away from him. He'd already been forced to watch the trench line in front of him fall, the men within physically torn apart by the frenzied barely-human horde of renegades. Masses of enemy soldiers came charging towards his position. The Soldier knew what would happen if t
He was interrupted by a pained wailing and his name being called. He turned to see General Pallion and two of his fanatics entering his command centre, cutting down his unfortunate bodyguard. All dressed in the crimson red and bronze armour of all those who worshiped the god of violence and bloodshed. "Colonel Davis!" He screamed in a high, demented voice, "What is the meaning of this incompetence?" Davis wheezed out a sigh, a single racking cough shaking his body as flies escaped his bloated lungs. "Maybe if you stopped killing my body guards I would be more secure in my position! Besides, we could not have anticipated these... interlopers..." Davis trailed off, gesturing up to the speck in the sky, where Invictus watched and waited. "Do not trifle with me!" Pallion screamed "The death of a few unworthy 'soldiers' and the appearance of some petty weaklings do not justify your failure!" His voice suddenly dropped and became unnervingly calm, rumbling and deadly quality just below t
The Third World War began on August fifteenth, 2030. It only lasted three days. It was a war that ended with twenty-thousand nuclear warheads and a burning Earth. With over one billion fatalities, the Third World War was labelled the largest global catastrophe since the extinction of the dinosaurs. Another hundred million more died soon after, victims of the swift and deadly killer that was radiation sickness. Worldwide infrastructure failed in less than a day-everything from microchips to national power grids were fried by the blasts. It was an atrocity of the highest order. The ultimate crime against humanity. But this story is not about that war. This story is about what happened next after the bombs had dropped. Before we knew it, the scarred remnants of the world were once again united against a common threat. The nuclear fallout we had created would soon wipe us all from existence. Functioning technology was scarce, so countries began to collaborate once more. Without any ot
Report: Quinn The edge of a dried sea. Russia. Decommissioned nuclear facility. Designation: 'Lighthouse' I could hear explosions outside-loud, thunderous detonations that I didn't so much hear as feel in my bones. By now I should have been used to explosions, as they were quite common in my line of work. Still, the sound in my ears and the pressured feeling in my chest told me that only danger awaited below. I loved it. I slid into the mech's pilot seat with a sigh of delight and moved to run my hands through my hair, an old stress-induced habit I'd recently resumed. Of course, I found almost nothing; my new brown crew cut didn't offer much to touch. My fingers brushed up against something solid embedded in the nape of my neck. An IRON chip, stolen from its American manufacturers. It was about the size of a dime. I settled my hands back on the controls of the mech and waited. It was likely only a few seconds, but it felt like hours. The sleeve of my jumpsuit caught on the co
The Grendel attacked me almost immediately, weapons blazing. The mech's two-storey body was laughable in shape but advantageous from a tactical viewpoint. Its thick, bulbous body gave it heavy armour and a low center of gravity, and its weapons array was built directly into the center of its frame, making it harder to destroy. The tubby grey German mech fought less like its mythological namesake and more like a sumo wrestler-it was built to take a hit and remain standing. A single red light shone through its thick armour as it wobbled toward me, marking where its camera was hidden away. The chunky Grendel was a tough enemy for my flimsy Regiment, especially because it was carrying both a rotary railgun and a powerful howitzer cannon. Fortunately, I had a trick or two up my sleeve. An interchangeable weapons array had been the reason I had chosen to use a Regiment for my mission-though a Goliath would've been a better mech, the Regiment's mounted weapons were easily customizable. Most
My command capsule streaked through the clouds, shrouding the battlefield below in white. To the naked eye, my command capsule rocketed to six-thousand feet above the Earth and simply disappeared. Of course, I knew better. Above me, the sky opened like a door, exposing a metal interior filled with mechs. My dropship. Visually camouflaged and practically undetectable by radar, dropships were used to discreetly transport mechs by every faction in the Iron War. Dropships were hidden from view but never weaponized-a global agreement forged after far too many aerial fatalities. I could see the dropship's camouflaged exterior part for a brief moment, exposing its gray hull for an instant. All sleek curves and rounded edges, the dropship was a nuclear-powered marvel of technology. Keeping it in the air was impressive-using it to carry building-sized mechs was another feat entirely. Thankfully, it was Lucas' job to worry about keeping the dropship flying-mechs were my only concern. A door
The Exodus looked like a giant red kettle. Its big, bowl-shaped body and raised shoulders gave it an ornate look, accented by the gold decals that decorated its armour. The owner had put substance before style, certainly, but there was still plenty of style to spare on the body of the Exodus. A giant, stylish red kettle, then. It's amazing what nonsense goes through your head when you're dodging missiles launched from said giant red kettle of death. "Blast!" I growled, and slammed my hand onto the activation key. The odds were good enough. I could feel my teeth vibrate as the back of the Prototype folded outward on itself, the jagged armour behind my cockpit peeling back like a gate to allow access to something new. The Prototype's secret weapon. Only, it wasn't a weapon. It was a crystalline pyramid of electronics and synthetic glass that poked out of the armour a few centimetres above the mech, shimmering in the midday sun. The quiet hum it made failed to convey the true power
Report: FiskA few hundred meters beneath Rome.Italy.Centro di produzione TMC, divisione di Roma.(TMC production center, Roman division.)"Can't be too careful," Carl smiled.My heart skipped a beat. Did he know?I'd seen Jackson duck behind the Punisher-T from when I'd entered. I assumed Karen was behind it, too. I had to keep Carl away from my allies long enough for them to escape.It dawned on my how ironic this was. A few weeks ago I would've been furious to learn how unobservant and arrogent Carl was. Now? I was happy. His ego would be our saving grace. I just had to keep him talking."So when do I hear about this Exodus," I said, sweeping my arm around Carl and leading him away from the computer. "I'd like to hear all about it."Carl looked enthused, a beaming grin spreading across his face, and he turned towards me. I followed his lead as we marched a few dozen feet away towards a large tarp, and stopped."Well," he said, "everyone loves rapid-fire rocket weapons. You have y
The hallway smelled of oil and cleaner, burning my nose as I marched, boots squeaking against the steel floor. The hallway was cold and dimly lit, with only a few eerie orange lights for decoration. Beyond this hall was the factory floor and our goal.Karen and I moved quickly, and I couldn't shake the feeling we were being pursued. I knew almost nothing about the layout of the underground factory, we were unarmed, and we had no disguise of any kind. I was just grateful that the guards were busy dealing with the riots on the surface. If I listened closely I could still hear the dull roar of the crowds, even through the massive steel doors.Those doors hadn't been a problem- only those guarding them. We'd selected an entrance on the opposite side of the city, as far away from the riots as possible. Surveillance was lax there, with only two guards. The TMC soldiers I'd seen looked identical to the men and women Draco had been with at Yamantau- black body armor and powerful rifles.Fortu
Report: QuinnThe bustling city of Rome.Italy.The Via Claudia.Temperature: 25° Celsius (77°F)Rome. City of marble and ruins. Rome's ancient history, once the life of so many a historian, was that of dominance, failure and reinvention. Just like the city of old, the Roman capital had fallen to civil war shortly before the Third World War. Rebellion ravaged Italy's capital, with it's citizens taking a stand against their complacent government. Although Italy's political superiors refused to partake in the World War, they knew they would not be safe for long.When the warheads were launched, many cities were targeted, Rome included. But despite the accusations of its citizens, the Italian government had been preparing. In a joint effort with China, two massive energy shields were deployed over Shenzhen and Rome, sparing them from the nuclear fire that consumed so much of the rest of the world.The OMEGA Horizon Shield, known by the locals as the 'scudo orizzonte', saved their lives.
Report: QuinnThe bustling city of Rome.Italy.Outside the Colosseum.Temperature: 27° Celsius (81°F)Something behind me shattered, spraying my back, legs and neck with bits of rubble as I ran. The hot sun beat against my face as my pursuers grew closer.I didn't know if it was a person or the robot who fired, but seconds later something warm and bright zipped past my head and struck a decorative statue in front of my, shattering an outstretched arm. The plaster sprayed my face as I ran, and a moment later my head was warm. I stepped around a group of fleeing pedestrians and glanced back, seeing the ball cap laying in the center of the street, hooked around the statue's stony fingers.Oh, well. The hat didn't matter.After all, the contents of the tablet in my pocket were much more important.I tapped my right ear, triggering the hearing-aid that doubled as my comms earpiece."Karen," I shouted, "do you copy?"A gasping, flushed voice crackled over the comms. Gunfire I heard in my l
In war, your greatest enemy is often yourself. We all begin war pure, fighting for righteousness' sake, but then the ego steps in, the hubris and the greed, and you feel invincible. But eventually you'll wake up and realize that you're not fighting for righteousness' sake anymore, you're not invincible, and that you're a long way from home. Looking back at everything that happened, I would say that this applies to myself, as well. I would be lying if I didn't say I had regrets. It's over now, I suppose. All is said and done. I never wanted to become a War Robot pilot, you know. I never expected it. When the first War Robot was built I was too young to know what I wanted to be when I was older. Before I knew it, the Iron War consumed my freedom to choose my fate. I joined the Chinese-Canadian Alliance on my own free will, sure, but the very fact that this was a choice I felt compelled to make illustrates my point. Every day the Iron War takes. It takes lives, yes, as do all wars, but
Report: Park Just off the coast of Nova Scotia. Canada. The remains of an Alliance base. Former designation: "The Firmament" Six hours later... Powerful halogen floodlights scanned the ocean surface, making the water shine. The blinding glow traced along the sides of the tower, across the film of oil and over floating debris. The fires that had consumed the Firmament were almost gone, leaving charred metal and burning oil in their wake. The flames provided little to see by-even the moon was hidden by clouds, so the searchlight was necessary. I stood in the cockpit of the dropship, staring down at the water as the vessel scanned the detritus. If something useful was found, the ship's mechanical arm system would target it, snatching it from the oil slick and pulling it inside. It had continued like this for over ten minutes, with little more than scraps discovered. "We have to go, Taewi," the dropship's pilot demanded. Her eyes were wide with worry, and her hands were a tan blu
"Just what the hell do you think you're doing, sacrificing my mech?"A blur of motion swept past the Firmament, snatching the Exodus out of the sky.A dropship."Laura?" I exclaimed. "You came back!""Looks like I got here just in time, too!" Laura replied. "I've got your friend-get the hell out of here! Rendezvous in Shenzhen!""But Mallet-" Alyx began."-can take care of herself!" Laura shot back. "Trust in her, she's your General for a reason! We need to go!""We're out!" Lucas called. The dropship lurched forward.The remaining Zephyrus, distracted by Kedrick's disappearance, didn't see our ship slip by them. We were out of their range in moments.My comms crackled, fading in and out."We're losing close-range radio," Dan informed me."I'll see you guys in China!" Kedrick shouted. He had to fight for his voice to be audible over the encroaching static. "Stay strong!"The comms cut out in a burst of static, and I slumped into a nearby seat.Kedrick was safe, but everything else was
After a moment of catching our breath, Dan, Draco, Alyx and I gathered ourselves and jogged into the cockpit where Lucas sat, fingers dancing across the controls."Strap the hell in!" he bellowed. Everyone scrambled to get to their seats."No!" Lucas glared, gesturing at Draco, "not you. Zip-tie yourself to that seat or you'd better hope you can fly!"Draco frowned, but did as he was told, taking a new pair of the plastic ties from Lucas' outstretched hand and latching himself to a seat.The dropship leapt into the air, soaring away from the battle."We're here to grab you when you need it, Kedrick," Lucas stated.Our forces, sensing this was a losing battle, had begun to retreat. Around us, the Zephyrus swarmed in unison, moving as if at the will of some invisible puppet master. Instead of shooting down the mechs as they were picked up, we watched in horror as they began to fly directly into the path of dropships, bringing them down."The hell?" Draco screamed. "This is suicide! This
The Firmament was built to function at a high altitude, but that didn't necessarily mean that its inhabitants were.The massive tower was well above the height that command capsules could safely travel, as the winds were so strong that they would be blown off course.The second issue was the fact that the entire upper dome of the ship was swarming with Zephyrus.Having breached the glass dome that took up most of the tower's roof, the winged mechs were using the remainder of the surface as a staging ground, gathering up top before descending into the tower to wreak havoc. With the dome gone, the surface area of the Firmament's highest point was about the same as an interior level-a large, circular platform with a gaping hole in its centre.Alyx, Draco and I stood in an emergency airlock on the top level of the Firmament, staring across the open surface of the tower.In its past life as a launch platform, the Firmament's upper deck had been where satellite and weather systems were loca