Fallen Stars

Chapter 3: Boots on the ground, eyes in the sky.

Deckard frowned, breathed in, and breathed out, trying to calm himself despite the APC driver’s choice in music; the synthesized tones and melodic instrumentals blaring through the speakers built into the reinforced panels above the doors. He’d come prepared with his unorthodox, experimental rifle: The X6-88 ‘Tempest’ Directional Force Cannon. The long, metal hand held canon softly hummed a mono-tone melody and vibrated lightly in his hands. The bulky, grey receiver was mostly featureless. It’s adjustable stock, trigger, grip and sights were bare bones and seemed almost awkward for a pair of human hands to hold; thankfully Deckard had long since removed his. The only anomaly on the gun's receiver was it’s ammo, which were large, dark green, cumbersome rechargeable batteries that stored enough energy for eight shots before they’d empty out. The long barrel of the oddly designed gun was the most noticeable feature. Although the body of the gun was merely functional and seemed lacking in parts, it was merely to compensate for the intense weight of the long barrel. The cannons triangular barrel was covered by multiple sliding plates, the top was painted a dull yellow with a few black warnings about how sticking fingers between the plates would sever them, that could be used to cool the rifle when it was over worked. When in normal use, the multiple vents on the side of the largest, top most, plates would open in between bursts of electromagnetic pulses. The barrel of the gun emitted a soft, electric blue light that was just waiting to be projected.

Mumbling something about calibrations and safety, the heavily augmented man looked over the rifle in his plated hands and made sure the weapon was still in safe mode. His voice was deep, gruff and sounded almost synthetic; his voice had an echoing, robotic tone to it that made it sound like a Machina was talking softly every time he spoke, like he had a second voice.  Looking up from the weighty firearm, he looked into the reflective helmet of the heavily armoured Machina across from him.

He looked more machine than man, which was exactly why he was even allowed on the expedition. His ‘body’ was painted in a dark, green and brown, camo patterned and layered with multiple lightweight plates and was further reinforced by a translucent shield that gave his metal limbs and body a faint shimmer. His torso had various pouches, pockets and bandoliers attached to the chassis of a standard field engineer’s armour. Because he was mostly metal, he was pardoned from wearing an already hindersome set of gear. His arms were reinforced by multiple flexible, grey covers that looked almost like struts for the already metal prosthetics. Out of the shoulders of his armour/body stood two small shoulder guards; although they offered little in the way of actual protection they easily concealed the small radio and geiger counter connected to his mental augments. His back was covered in the same dermal protection as the rest of his body, but also had a small set of magnetic locks for his rifle should he ever not need it in the field. His legs were just as extensively modified and armoured with multiple external armour that served to protect his intricately built limbs. The only part of his body that was clearly mostly flesh was his head, which would soon be protected by a standard issue filtration mask. His ebony skin was mostly hidden by his dermal plating and prosthetic limbs but he’d left his head mostly the same. His neon green eyes were modified and now were almost permanently covered by a pair of black lenses set in place by a steel frame, they acted as both a nearly constant H.U.D and protection from almost all elements, even being able to resist flash bangs and other blinding weaponry; despite the lenses people could still see a faint, unnatural glow from his cybernetic eyes . His shaved head was guarded by an odd, newly developed helmet that worked in tandem with the augmented soldier’s mental implants. The brown helmet was seemingly clamped onto the skull and had a variety of plates and covers that could resist most small arms fire. Along with the abnormally protective covering, the helm also had several optical lenses that acted like a series of additional ‘eyes’; without the aid of mental augments, these additional eyes would overload a normal human’s senses and drive them mad. To Deckard, madness wasn’t a worry, falling the mission and getting sent back to his former post was a worry to him.

“Okay you weeds, gearheads and augs, listen up!” The driver of the massive APC cried out through the speakers in the cramped, well lit seating area instantly grabbing the attention of the multiple Hybrids and Machina and the two ‘Human’ soldiers.

“This is a scouting mission, we’re expecting to run into standard Terran class planet fauna and flora; although that doesn't mean we should get comfy or let our guards down while we’re outside the ship. Stick to the convoy, don’t break off from your squad and if we’re being airlifted out we won’t have time to screw around, we got a job to do so let's do it right with no casualties or rookies playing hero.” The bot on the other end ordered, its mechanical voice sounding slightly irritated yet also determined.

“Operation parameters received...Operation begin…” Deckard heard to his left, the monotone droning clearly Machina in nature.

To the left of Deckard sat a SAIMID, or SAMs as most people simply called them. They were the latest combat Machina models that had been built and so far they were well received from the few starships, colonies and bases that were blessed with a team of them. They were all similar in design, they’re all large, tall bipedal robots with grey/black “muscular” frames that protected the vital pieces of tech snuggly packed into their ‘chests’ with vain like wires running throughout their limbs, along the edges and joints. They often wore metal armour plates or nanofiber ‘skin’ to offer additional protection and give them a more menacing look; this particular unit looked more like a combination. Like all Special Forces Units, this mech was wearing full body armor, in addition to attached shoulder protection and a hefty neck guard. Over its ‘muscle’ and plates it wore a form fitting black nanofiber tactical uniform with numerous pouches on the bandoliers resting on the large navy blue chest plate over the clothing and the large utility belt across its waist. Its legs were guarded by additional armour on the knees and shins over the pants of the uniform, mostly the large knee pads and metal boots that were strong enough to break bones but also lightweight enough for a Machina to run miles without risk of damaging its ‘feet’, and simply walking was another story altogether. On each shoulder piece, three stiff patches were visible on the velcro surface - its serial number, 366 in bold, white letters with a bar code underneath, its assigned battalion and insignia, the 15th Reconnaissance Battalion ‘Hivemind’, and a small print of the face of the iconic character, Robocop, from the 20th century film with the quote “Thank you for your cooperation.” in small, white letters below it. Most SAIMID units didn’t enjoy being given a nickname from Humans, Hybrids, Ascended or even other Machina for no reason other than “it bothered them”, but it didn’t seem to mind. Around its neck, under the guard, rested a flexible series of panels and plates that raised from the mechanical body, giving the illusion that the odd Machina had an actual neck. Towards the bottom of the face, above it’s ‘chin’, was a short crease that gave the idea of a slightly parted mouth on it’s smooth, hexagonal, features. On the forehead, as well as where eyes would be, rested a large spherical optic with a dark grey sensor matching that of the rest of it’s face. Small, barely noticeable dots were embedded throughout the surface of the orb, housing multiple sensors of all different kinds, and placed in the front of the sphere rested two large optics with an emerald green tint in the top one’s lens. 366 had stated multiple times before that it wasn’t its ‘head’ as it didn’t have one and was merely a cornucopia of sensors and optics that gave him unparalleled vision and senses. While this was entirely the case, it was still obvious that 366 did, in fact, possess a head of sorts. From the back of the head as a whole ran a large, orange wire casing straight down the back of the bot’s body and into its metal spine. If it weren’t for the large, spherical sensor protruding from it’s face you could mistake 366 for a heavily augmented biological soldier. Even without the armor, the dexterity of the new SAIMID unit was often greatly underestimated, and in the event that 366 was severely damaged, it could still function to get back to safety.

Strapped to its thigh rested a T-7 ‘Riot’ sidearm, the standard issue pistol for Machina law enforcement. The weapon was small enough to fit in the hand of a bipedal machine, weighty enough so a Human or Ascended couldn’t steal it or use it without serious effort, and was able to hold enough rounds to never have to reload in a well thought out firefight, rarely would a Machina need to use all 25 rounds. It was criticized as being unnecessarily large with its long, grooveless grip, missing trigger guard to accompany the elongated trigger, extended, vented barrel and holographic scope. The pistol was made lengthier by the small suppressor at the end of its barrel. The pistol was nearly impossible for a normal creature to use but to a Machina it was a lightweight, versatile sidearm.

In the Machina’s hands rested perhaps one of the most terrifying Machina inventions to date, the Prototype T-S ‘Chemtrail’. Unusable by organics since it was scorching hot and gave second degree burns if held by any organic when powered up, the obsidian black rifle was based of the design of a 25th century sniper rifle and the extended barrel, large stock and massive, adjustable, square scope - which acted rather as an extra eye for aiming - reflected this. The gun had two different ammo types that needed to be reloaded at the same time: the heavy armor piercing .50 caliber sized tungsten sabots - each of which had a small propelling charge on the back to propel it into the rails of the barrel - and the acidic, boiling hot substance the specially tailored rounds were coated in. The bullets were inserted via a large, grey, boxy magazine and the chemical substance was fed into a chamber located behind the grip of the gun through a small, white tube that extended from a hidden compartment in 366’s right hand. A chamber in the large, reinforced stock of the destructive rifle held the acid in a gaseous form and it was refilled by 366 on every reload for the new rounds. Only itself and its engineers knew wherever it stored the unknown chemical in its body, or how it made it, but it was able to replenish itself over time by ‘unknown’ means. The barrel of the gun was separated in two parts: the large cylinder where the bullets are coated before firing and the extended, magnetically accelerated barrel. Normally, the weapon was used similarly to a sniper or rail rifle, due to the incredible bullet velocity, and carried a limited number of rounds and acid, but this SAIMID unit came with a fully automatic variant that could make short work of any land, sea or air vehicle with enough ammo or well placed shots, and both types of ammo were more than plentiful on this unit. After calibrating the weapon and reasoning that it didn’t need it, it removed the grip under the barrel and used it like an assault rifle; even then, without ammo the acid spitting, boiling hot, meter and a half long rifle made an effective club even if powered down.

“Operative: Deckard. Query: Why are you, a Human, allowed to sortie on this operation with us?” 366 pondered aloud, its low-pitched, monotone voice seemingly making it sound bored out of its digital mind.

“Well, Robocop, with all the augments I’ve received for my respirators, optics, dermal plating and digital/mental processors they say I should be able to handle anything at this point. An adept field engineer with knowledge of this Hydras weapons and systems would be optimal.” Deckard answered as he leaned back and rested his head on the padded seat he was secured to.

“And you, Operative: Jonathan?” The unit continued as it leaned forward to look past Deckard to the metal plated behemoth next to him.

“All Heavy Assault Armour is designed to handle everything; it’d take a tank round to even dent my filters. The higher ups thought the scouting party should have someone beefy enough to handle Demons out in the field.” the Assault Trooper replied as he pressed a variety of buttons on the holographic display on his suit’s left wrist.

“Explanations deemed satisfactory, no further input is necessary.” SAIMID-366 declared as it looked away from the only two ‘Humans’ inside the APC and faced forward, ready for action.

The ‘Hydra’s belly’, as soldiers called it, was packed full of soldiers, scientists and engineers; regardless of whether they were organic or machine, everyone was on edge. The compartment’s walls were lined with seated personnel, all strapped into their assigned black seats, and standing in the center of the holding area was a large deployable pylon designed for surveying areas and atmospheres. Despite being much smaller than one would expect when in transit, the javelin shaped sensor was a staple of colonial exploration. The red and white instrument shined dully in the hold’s pale lights. Outside of the sturdy, all-terrain vehicle were 4 others just like it all descending into the depths of the Southern Cross on one of the large, service lifts inside the Hanger and Vehicle Bay. The platform was bathed in red light as the secure lift slowly began decelerating as it reached the bottom floor of the labyrinthian Corsair class vessel.

“So, Deckard, what’d you expect to find out there?” John asked as he sat stiffly, unable to relax in a full set of armour.

“Undiscovered lifeforms, minerals, possibly toxic gases...Why do you ask?” Deckard countered as he stared at the trooper’s face plate.

“Oh, no reason, just wanted to hear what you were thinking is all.” he answered as he looked away from the odd man.

“Hm, alright...What do you think we will find Assualt Trooper Xexes?” Deckard questioned as he continued to look at the taller man.

“Large, carnivorous beasts that we’ll have to fight off.” John replied hopefully.

“Possible, unlikely though; I wouldn’t get my hopes up.” Deckard simply stated as he looked away from the simple man and held onto his chair as the elevator suddenly stopped and everyone inside heard the giant, bulkhead doors of the shaft open up followed shortly by the carrier slowly speeding up. Turning his flesh covered head to the side he looked out the tiny tinted, bulletproof window behind him. The wide, expansive path the carrier was speeding down was rarely used, but was still maintained and kept in pristine condition. Their APC was leading a small band of Hydras down a straight, well lit metal road with small pathways blocked off lining the road. The roof was occasionally obscured by catwalks and lifts and on the ground level Machina assault squads and R-43 Raiders on standby in case something went wrong in the field. The large alcove was usually empty or manned by a skeleton crew as it was rare for a Corsair, or any other gargantuan starship, to ever have to use the cargo bay unless it was offloading or stocking up on supplies and never because it crash landed on a planet.

“Robocop, what do you think we’ll find out there?” John inquired, making small talk to a droid who probably didn’t care about small talk.

“Organic life, and minerals.” The SAIMID unit responded as it stared forward unblinking.

“Oh, well, that’s not vague at all.” John stated, taken aback by how uninteresting and normal its response was.

“I do not know what is out there,” 366 added, obviously sensing the sarcasm. “If I did, or had any more accurate assumptions, I would tell you in greater detail. That said, we have to be ready for the worst, never the best.” It replied as it continued to watch the opposite wall. Because most of the scouting party was comprised of combat units or Hybrids who seemed to be in the middle of meditation the storage area of the APC was assaulted by Machina music, all anyone could hear were the occasional loud mumbling of a Hybrid, the wir of a Machina servo or John and Deckard clearing their throats or examining their firearms.

“Okay boys, we’re riding out in 30 seconds; Deckard, we all know you’re mostly metal but put a filtration mask on; the captain will have my head on a pike if you die from a glaring mistake.” The driver requested as the Hydra slowed down and took its position at the end of the small convoy in front of the massive, slightly dented metal bulkhead door reinforced by a vast, electric blue shield that was slowly fading away as the door began the opening sequence.

“Show time…” John’s comment sounded almost mechanical as his sealed helmet, now locked in place, distorted his voice slightly.

“We all know what we have to do, try not to suffer heavy damage while you’re at it.” Deckard commented as he begrudgingly placed the ice white nanofiber framed mask on, its clear bullet proof glass covering his face.

“Operation threat level:...1. Low risk.” 366 stated flatly, John assumed, as the Storage Bay bulkhead slid open, the panels disappearing into the outer plating of the starship; the only thing keeping the Storage Bay safe was the large shield that still stood tall in case the air was toxic. Without a word, the convoy drove past the end of the road lined with massive metal containers and military equipment and past the shield.

“Until we can verify that we won’t all die from some airborne virus or sudden change of weather the shields are staying up per quarantine and emergency landing procedures. Unless you're driving to another continent or the other side of the planet all of the Southern Cross’ weaponry should be able to hit a designated target in case of an emergency, just be sure you’re hauling ass out of there; there’s a reason some of this ship’s anti-ground weapons systems are called ‘earth crackers’. From here on out you’re walking into the unknown, good luck out there Hivemind and may the Empress’ will guide you.” The captain reminded via his com link to the Battalion’s closed channel.

“Alright bots and broccoli, we’re rolling out.” The driver cheered through the speakers over his music. The APC shook a little as the front treads adjusted to the uneven terrain. Looking out the windows Deckard, John and the few Hybrids not meditating were enthralled by the beauty around them.

The spaceship had crash landed in a massive clearing, most of the land was uneven but only populated by a few patches of shrubs, flowers or weeds. The rolling emerald field filled with seas of vibrant flowers was a stark contrast to the colossal, shining grey warship and its multiple weapon systems and glowing shield. The clearing was unusually long, about three miles in length and one and a half in width. The ship was only two miles long and three quarters of a mile wide; even with the ship in the dead center of the clearing there was enough room for a colony to begin expanding out. Behind the ship was a long, smouldering trail of dirt, rock and uprooted trees and plants. The ship had hit hard but thankfully it’d been a much smoother landing than many other historical crashes; they hadn't lost half the ship in the landing. The borders of the clearing were outlined by a massive ocean of dark purple and blueish black trees and dark green bushes that could easily hide an animal or person if they were clever enough. The sky was a serene crystal blue and the clouds overhead were the most fluffy and the whitest many of the soldiers had ever seen.

“Damn, nothing like home at all…” John muttered as he stared in awe, never before having seen such a vibrant and varied display of colours.

“Clearing and surrounding woodlands deemed strategically sound.” SAIMID-366 declared as it looked away from its window, it's scanning process complete.

Off in the horizon, about a day's walk from the clearing, rested a massive divide of mountains and crevices. The mounts rose into the sky, piercing the clouds, and the dark cracks in the ground ran so deep the light couldn’t touch the bottom. The soldiers knew they’d sooner or later have to check out the range as well.

“Five hundred credits says we’ll have to kill some ungodly beast when we rock up there.” John wagered with a smirk as Deckard gave him a look.

“Why would I waste money on such an unnecessary and pointless guess? A lot of things most likely inhabit those mountains.” The augmented man responded as he gave John an odd look.

“Jeez, you really need to spend more time with some organics Deck; you’re not fun.” John muttered as he re-calibrated his helmet’s H.U.D.

“I was born organic, I still am organic and I was raised with organics, I’ve spent enough time with organics. Machina, Ascended Machina, Cyborgs and of course Ascended Cyborgs are simply easier to understand.” The field engineer shot back with a neutral tone as his neural augments made sure everything was working at optimal capacity.

“Drone-1 here, the rest of the convoy is changing to their assigned courses; good luck out there Drone-5, over.” A soft, almost harmonic male voice stated through the com channel.

“Roger Drone-1, have fun running tests and setting up walls, over.” The driver jokingly replied as it laughed over the link. Everyone, aside from the Machina soldiers, braced themselves as the large carrier drove into the woods and out of the clearing, the path chosen quickly becoming bumpy and uneven.

“Styx, these woods are bloody dark…” John whispered as he looked out the window, marveling at the dank and misty woods.

The APC and its soldiers continued into the woods, received a constant feed of reports from the rest of Drone team as they performed their assigned duties. The woods seemed to swallow light and the four large blue lights on the front of the APC and the large searchlight on placed on top of the massive V.I controlled, anti-infantry HMG continuously did a 360 degree scan to keep the imminent surroundings clear. The woods stood menacingly over the durable vehicle, the bushes and shrubs did nothing to stop the unbreakable treads of the transport. Everyone’s helmet told them it was still early in the morning, only about 7 o'clock AM by Imperial standard, yet it was so dark it could be 8 at night. The shadows outside seemed to weave and morph as the creatures, big and small, inhabiting the forest scurried about in fear or hatred of the giant mechanical beast trespassing in their domain.

“Drone-5, Drone-3 here; we’ve finished scanning the air for any and all known hazards and so far it’s deemed breathable. The Humans can take their masks off but try not to sneeze on anything, over.” An unknown female voice called out, its voice distinctly machine.

“Copy that Drone-3. How’s the progress on the wall? Over.”

“We’re ahead of schedule; the western side, aka the forest approach, is almost ready to be powered up and the Northern mountain path is about 84% finished. All that’s left is the Eastern side and South side, over.” She replied with a happy tone.

“Bravo Zulu and all that jazz, we’ve finally found a suitable place to set up the pylon. Styx, with all these trees, mist and creepy shit you’d think you’re on the bad parts of Eden...Over.” The Machina driver responded, sounding almost freaked out.

“Be careful out there, Unit A.D.a.M, command will scrap us all if you bastards die on us. Over.” She worryingly replied.

“Nah, we’ll be fine; pylon and defense should be set up shortly and we’ll make better time on the drive back. Smoke me a kipper, I’ll be back for breakfast. Over.” Unit A.D.a.M, the Automated Driver and Maintenance unit, joked as he slowed down the APC. The lights in the ‘belly’ flashed red and everyone stood up and got into two perfect lines, weapons in hand and a crew of four supporting the pylon and a few metal cases containing a bevy of automated defenses.

“Once more unto the breach…” John quoted as he took his position at the front of the group, Deckard and Robocop behind him in line.

“...Dear friends, once more; or close the wall up with our English dead. In peace there's nothing so becomes a man. As modest stillness and humility; but when the blast of war blows in our ears, then imitate the action of the tiger. Henry the Fifth, Act 3, Scene 1.” 366 added almost instantaneously in his droned out, monotone voice. “Query: You are familiar with the literature of Shakespeare?” 366 questioned after finishing John’s quote.

“N-no, I just always liked that opening line.” John stammered out, baffled by how quickly the Unit recognized the quote and how it suddenly continued.

“...Understood.” It stated as it readied its rifle while the massive door slowly lowered down, creating a ramp for the crew to quickly march out and form a defensive position. The crew found themselves in yet another clearing. The trees around the edges were torn down by...Something, the bark covered in multiple deep claw marks and green ichor of some kind, and the ground was even and smooth like something else had treaded upon it for a long time. The pale, cloudy sky above offered much needed illumination for the off-worlders as they began assembling a small outpost. As John guarded the four Machina troopers carrying the pylon, Deckard quickly scanned the Hydra for damage.

The mechanical beast of burden was a favourite on and off the frontlines. On the outside it was an imposing machine with layers of plated metal and shielding that made it astronomically hard for small arms to penetrate the alabaster white and dark blue transport. The windows on the side were more like black slits in between the panels and it would probably be impossible to see out of them now that they were covered in thick, wet mud much like the decorative painting of the Hivemind’s emblem, a trio of black wolves set on a red banner, on the side of the vehicle. The sheets of metal, paint job, windows and large, obscured treads were in impeccable condition sans the mud. The treads elevated the APC off the ground only slightly but were surprisingly adept at all-terrain transport, even for a scouting vehicle. The treads were made of a synthetic metal that was both lightweight and damn near indestructable. The series of wheels and the backup generator inside the tread was protected by a removable panel coloured the same way as the carrier with the same wide horizontal line running along it. The front of the shuttle curved down and looked almost like a flat piece of metal and shielding if it weren’t for the massive cow catcher blocking the gap in between treads, the flood lights on top of the front, the various sensors and optics and the two elongated .905 cal HMGs jutting out through the panels. The only things visible were the giant, black, vented barrels and the exit port for the humongous rounds. The roof had a single hatch and a V.I. controlled heavy machine gun that could be manually handled by a soldier protecting said hatch. All in all, the light armoured beast was still fit for duty even after carving a path through dense woodlands, swamps and a patch of blue flowers.

“Empress, I think we just drove into a nest of some kind…” One of the Hybrids said aloud as she tripped on a large, torn up leg of what could have been a blue fur covered...Horse of some kind. The shocked woman quickly got up and tried to wipe the blood off her white and green chest plate and grieves.

“What the Styx could’ve done this?” A Machina wearing light, forest green nanofiber armour questioned as it examined the limb before carefully picking it up and placing it in a sealed black bag with various warning signs on it.

“I don’t know, but good call on taking the limb, DAYNE and his docs will want to take a look at that thing; first animal part we’ve seen. Keep your guard up and weapon loaded, we’re obviously not alone out here.” John cautioned as he shouldered the butt of his machine gun and scanned the decimated tree line.

“Drone-5, this is Raven-1. We’re maintaining altitude above you and got a clear line of sight for both the optics and the gunner’s cannons. Over.” Sam reported over the com, the idle chatter of rowdy shock troopers in the background and the wir of the VTOLs engines drowning out her voice.

“Raven-1 this is Drone-5, we’re still setting up the pylon and the defenses but keep an eye out for movement in the forest, we may have just driven into something’s den. Over.” A.D.a.M requested, its gruff and deep voice tainted with concern.

“Operative: Deckard. Assistance required.” 366 stated from the other side of the APC at the pylon. Deckard made his way over, making sure to step over anything grisly.

“SAIMID Unit 366, what’s the problem?” The field engineer inquired as he kneeled down beside the droid and examined the complex inner workings of the massive sensor.

“Internal systems have suffered minor damage from the Southern Cross’ emergency landing. It needs immediate repairs.” 366 announced as it stood straight and walked away to continue its assigned order of guarding the engineers and scouts.

Progress was mostly slow due to the unnerving nature of their surroundings. The scanners always picked up movement or a distant sound but no one was able to make visual contact with anything and the disturbing noises radiating from the dark woods was chilling almost everyone aside from the guard droids and John.

“Empress’ tits, I can’t wait to be back on the ship…” One of the female scouts muttered next to John as the two marched around the perimeter of the site.

“Why? I’m finding this all kind of exhilarating.” John cheerfully asked with an odd spring in his step.

“Seriously? The dark, primitive and unknown woods don't creep you out?” She asked, her pale green face scrunched up in scrutiny.

“Nope, the last time I felt this ready was Novaguard.” John retorted as he continued to march on, the sound of his suits servos was drowned out by the dampened thud of his mechanical boots.

“Yeah, well, this is my first assignment. I was expecting to be back at the Armada by now, not actually patrolling no man’s land.” She truthfully said, her voice shaking slightly.

“Consider this a baptism by fire, you’re still kicking and you’re one of the few who’ve been the first to set foot on a new planet; some people dream of this kind of adventure.” John remarked with an audible smile.

“I guess you’re right; still didn’t want to have to be doing this for-...Did you hear it?” She interrupted herself as she dropped to one knee and raising her plasma shotgun to her shoulder, its dual metal barrels ready to dispense searing hot plasma. John likewise readied his LMG and paid extra attention to his H.U.D which was telling him something big was surrounding them completely.

“Yeah, something’s coming…” John stated the obvious as he suddenly went quiet. By now, everyone in the clearing had formed a defensive parmiter. SAIMID and its fellow guard droids of different makes and models stood ready, the few field engineers and technicians who were programming and setting up the automated defenses and scanner took cover behind the large, rectangular casing of the inactive turrets and John and the scouts had fallen back to stand ready with the Machina guards.

“50 yards out…” 366 announced quietly as it’s chemically enhanced rifle started humming to life, the little bits of dirt and other small amounts of buildup on the rifle from earlier smoldering and evaporating into thin columns of dark smoke as the rifle heated from the chemical induction.

“Raven-1, something huge is moving in on us. Over…” A.D.a.M warned from the safety of the APC, its HMGs ready to fire on anything foolish enough to attack.

“40 yards…” John spoke as he clicked his bulky machine guns safety off and readied to fire on the thing coming for them. Everyone could hear the insidiously soft crunching of dead leaves and snaps of twigs now.

“Drone-5, we’re ready to descend for a pick up but we’re in range to offer fire support. Over.” Sam reminded with a monotone voice as the shock troopers behind her quieted down, powered up their laser rifles and began wiring the barrels of the large auto-cannons hanging out the side of the craft.

“30…” Deckard calmly called out, his Tempest rifle vibrating in his metal hands, the sensation relaxing him as his enhanced eyes were able to see into the consuming darkness and mist and perceive the approaching shapes.

“Remember, don’t fire unless you know they’re hostile; we don’t want to cause an incident with any natives.” Commander Grayson ordered sternly as he took control of the large, high-explosive auto-cannon and aimed for the tree line.

“20 yards out...Styx…” One of the Machina stammered out in fear as it steadied its handgun and scanned the trees. The loud, approaching snaps of dead wood, pained and hungry howls of something unnatural and the beat of movement was all anyone could hear aside from the soft rumble of the carrier’s engine.

“I love this part…” John said under his breath as he saw the approaching creatures clear the treeline.

“What the fuck?” The female scout next to John commented as everyone stared at the bizarre and unnatural creatures that surrounded them.

There before them all stood a numerous pack of what looked like wolves made of timber and loose leaves. Their eyes glowed like Ferosulian fireflies and their bodies looked like they’d been either carved by a master or simply glued together by a toddler. The shambling, growling mockery of nature before them either enthralled or disgusted the soldiers but everyone knew these creatures were nothing like anyone had seen before.

“Fascinating…” One of the Hybrid field technicians remarked as he began taking photos of the newly discovered beasts via an augment in his left eye.

“Alert: Sensors suffering from possible malfunction.” Unit 366 stated as he aired an alert many Machina were probably suffering as well. All of them counted about forty or so creatures yet all of their sensors told them a gargantuan horde surrounded them. No one had time to voice their grievances as one of the wolf things growled menacingly, barked and charged full force towards the line of robots.

“Open fire, open fire!” Commander Grayson declared as everyone above and below began firing on the advancing mob. Bullets flew and embedded themselves deep inside the plant like insides of the creatures, lasers and plasma ignited the surface of their wood and explosive rounds turned them into wood chips. The forest was alight in colourful flashes of might and the sounds of a bloody, one sided skirmish. Spent shells rained down onto the muddy soil, along with thick, gelatinous amber sap from the large wounds and scorch marks ruining the surfaces of the individual monsters and the lumber around them.

“Get some!” John cried as a wolf to his left got dangerously close to him. He turned to fire his dark green machine gun but the magazine was empty.

“Shit!” Thinking quickly he activated the jump jets on the suit, small compartments on the back of his legs and back opening up, and propelled himself back just as the beast went to clamp its jaws on his left arm. Its jaw most likely wasn’t strong enough to penetrate the armour but he wasn’t taking any chances with an unknown race. Before it could recover he unsheathed his combat knife, crouching slightly and boosted himself back into position; the added speed and force was easily enough to sink the whole blade into its head and keep it wedged deep in there.

“Level of risk:...2.” 366 evaluated as it locked ‘eyes’ on two wolves sneaking around the small band of technicians and engineers using the trees to hide their presence. Without waiting for them to step into the open, 366 shouldered its rifle and looked down the square scope.

“Goodbye.” It said as it pressed down on the scalding trigger. From the barrel a torrent of sickly, dull green liquid came flying out at unfathomable speeds. The air smelt heavily of bitter, off vinegar and burning materials and anything the chemical trail came into contact with melted before everyone’s eyes; but at the front of the small trails of acid, at 7 and a half times the speed of sound, soared massive, pointed white sabots. Each bullet quickly penetrated parts of the wolves through the foliage and lumber they hid behind and the dead trees lining the clearing and out the other end as though they were made of paper, continuing on for some distance; the wolves were very surprised when they felt the small volley of high powered sabots and acid surge through them but the few organic crew watching were more surprised by the result. Wherever a bullet hit home a massive chunk of the wolf would dissolve into green, acidic goo that congealed and rapidly cooled down. Limbs, jaws, ears and tails were falling off and melting mid fall, their yells of pain swiftly silenced when a round went through their skulls or they simply decomposed too much. Only 9 rounds had been fired, each guided by 366’s pinpoint aim, in a little under a second.

“A marvel of Machina engineering...” Deckard complimented as he charged his force cannon to as high as the weapon would allow it. The once cool blue and soft light was now a crackling, vibrant dark blue and the gun shook intensely as Deckard adjusted the gun for the perfect shot. In front of Deckard, a few yards away, a pack of five or so wolves were about to swarm him and attempt to tear the metal man apart; obviously they’d fail with his body but his organs and face were still organic. Begrudgingly, he overworked his rifle and prepared to make drift wood out of the freaks of nature approaching him.

“Closer….” He mumbled as the field engineers leapt back in shock when they turned to face the five creatures that were nearly in his face. Time seemed to move slower when you’ve been given several extensive mental/digital improvements and so even with seconds to spare he was able to precisely deal with the new threat.

“Perfect.” Deckard exclaimed as he let go of the trigger, all of the built up energy and force burst free of the cannon, the recoil slightly denting Deckard’s shoulder. Aside from some minor pain, Deckard felt amazing. The wolves on the other hand had very little to feel after the shockwave expelled from the end of the triangular barrel sent them flying back into a few different trees, breaking their ‘spines’ and shattering their wooden plates and spraying pale green sap everywhere. Even if they’d hit something softer, the impact of the wave itself was enough to break several key bones in their wooden structure; they were doomed the minute Deckard fired.

“Down n’ out!” John cheered as he reloaded his LMG, the spent rounds littering the ground like the dead bodies of the wolves surrounding him. The wolves had tried to surround him, confusing his dense metal armour for his flesh, and charge him all at once while he he gunned down one of their pack brothers. Instead, when his H.U.D alerted him to their imminent attack, he held onto his light machine gun in his left hand and his revolver in his right. Looking in between the two waves of five or so wolves, he opened fire and didn’t let up until AP rounds had torn through their plated skin and pulverising their organs or his revolver’s green laser rounds had blasted straight through their bodies, killing them instantly and setting their innards on fire. After ten seconds of continuous fire, he’d let go of the triggers. Both barrels were smoking heavily from prolonging fire, if it weren’t for his masks filters he’d have breathed in the putrid stench of the battlefield; the grimy smell of blood, spent ammunition, burnt plant life and acidic formula breaking down the native wildlife weren’t anything new to many of the soldiers and some had even come to love it.

“Ceasefire, ceasefire!” Grayson ordered, releasing his finger from the massive trigger of the four-barreled, plasma throwing auto-cannon, the roaring of the gun swiftly being silenced. The sudden skirmish had lasted for about a minute and a half and aside from some scratches and clawed at armour, none of the crew had been injured or killed. The wolves on the other hand had been obliterated. The floor of the forest was scorched black and patches of fire quickly engulfed some of the wolf corpses, turning them into dark green ash. The organs of said wolves seemed to pulse with an unknown energy.

“Collecting unknown samples for analysis…” 366 informed as he and a few other Machina crew members began scooping up body parts, organs, piles of ashes and a whole, mostly intact, native wolf and placing them in clear, sanitary containers with multiple warnings on them.

“Well, that could’ve gone better. Let’s set these turrets up and...Wait, what the hell is...Oh shit!” A.D.a.M cried out in shock, along with a few other guardsman and engineers as they saw the multiple chunks and body parts of the destroyed wolves begin hovering and float towards a massive, glowing pile.

“Commander Grayson, are you seeing this?!” John questioned as he reloaded his rifle and got behind cover along with the rest of the soldiers as it began forming a massive, disfigured wolf.

“I can confirm that we have visual contact…” Grayson reported, completely dumbstruck.

“How is this...Thing able to do this? Unless…” Deckard pondered as he examined the piles of unmoving bodies and the colossal, three feet tall abomination. “All of the bodies that aren’t moving were...Yes! Of course! Conventional ballistic rounds won’t finish it off! All Units, switch to incendiary, plasma or laser rounds!” Deckard advised, proud of his sudden burst of brilliance. Just as the beast finalized its transformation, the scouts either changed their chosen ammunition or switched to explosives. With a mighty stomp and primal, blood curdling roar the monster examined them with pure malice. Its left eye was caved in, its left hind leg was broken in several places, its tail was nonexistent and its chest was cracked. As it shook unstably, flecks of its bark-like skin fell off in clumps.

“What the fuck…” John dumbfoundedly cursed as every cannon, gun, explosive and newly programmed turrets locked onto the abomination.

“Open fire!” Grayson, once again, commanded as everyone simultaneously fired on the beast as it pounced onto the APC and picked it up relatively effortlessly in its dislocated maw.

“Oh fuck!” A.D.a.M cried out as it tried to sank its teeth deep into the bay of the carrier, tossing around the occupants while its efforts cracked the cockpit windows. Meanwhile a barrage of multicoloured lasers and plasma rounds tore into the hardened flesh.

“What the styx is this thing made of!?” Sam cried as she locked onto the native monster and began letting loose a torrent of blue, searing lasers that quickly began burning through the top of its head. WIth a pained yelp it dropped the APC, but not before it stomped on its back and clawed into it.

“Keep up the fire!” Grayson demanded as he continued to fire at the thing, now aiming for its weak spot. Although the beast was mighty, it couldn’t withstand a continued barrage from all fronts and quickly ran into the woods after decimating the APC, parts of the creature either melting off in acidic blobs, torn through like swiss cheese, or simply burning in small spouts of flame.

“Unit A.D.a.M, are you alright?” Deckard inquired as he ran up to the heavily scratched and dented APC. The outside looked battered but it’d take more then that to decommission a Hydra.

“Yeah, just fuckin’ peachy. Can someone help me? The prick fucked up the cockpit and I can’t open the door.” A.D.a.M requested as Deckard charged his force cannon to a safe, non-lethal level.

“Step away from the door.” Deckard ordered as he brought his weapon to bear.

“Not like I can move!” A.D.a.M yelled angrily as it waited for someone to do something. After three seconds of charging, Deckard let go of the trigger. The door blasted open, hanging onto its hinges loosely and the door itself bent wildly.

“Thanks, now please help unplug me; that wolf thing fucked me up.” A.D.a.M begged as it sat limp in the driver's seat. The Machina was a weirdly designed bot, an experiment gone right between the Engineers and A.D.a.M. After the bipedal Machina lost its legs at Novaguard it asked the Southern Cross’ Head Engineer MAG if they could retrofit a pair of tank treads to the bottom of its torso. It worked a bit and now this pure white robot with blue racing stripes down his torso, a black aviator jacket, aviator helmet with the visor down, human like arms and wide, somewhat rusted steel tank treads at the bottom of his torso slapped onto his stump. From the back of his rectangular, nearly featureless face was a small hatch that was opened, his helmet ‘modified’ with a cut out hole that allowed a massive, blue cable that ran out of its skull and connect to the cockpits panel. As Deckard could see, something had gone wrong and A.D.a.M was locked in place. His caterpillar treads were still clamped in place but for some reason the APC wasn’t letting him unplug from it.

“This looks bad…” Deckard summarized as he examined the treads and the cord. He couldn’t yank him out of the APCs control panel, that could scramble A.D.a.M’s mind, but if he didn’t get rid of the clamps he’d have to.

“Ground team, what’s your status? Over.” Grayson asked as he watched the massive wooden beast run in fear.

“Well, the APC seems undrivable and A.D.a.M is stuck in the cockpit. We’re gonna need an air lift out of here. Over.” John reported as he surveyed the burnt clearing, intact turrets and pylon, damaged personal carrier and the trail of crushed trees and bushes that marked the giant, combined native wolf.

“Copy that, beginning our...Hold on...What the hell is that?” Sam interrupted herself as she, along with her Macina co-pilot, spotted something massive approaching from the other side of the expansive forest to the north just over the horizon. Coming from the towering mountains, was a colossal, flying creature.

“Now what?” Grayson complained as he looked out the side of the Griffin and locked eyes on the approaching creature.

It rapidly approached, its massive wingspan and impressive, scaly body quickly obscuring the horizon as it noticed the much smaller VTOL.

“Holy shit...Are you seeing this?” Sam questioned as everyone became aware of the fairy tale beast in front of them.

Closing in on their position was a colossal, blue and black scaled dragon with gargantuan, cracked horns and large, slitted orange eyes that stared at the VTOL hungrily.

“Sir? It’s heading right for us…” Sam stated nervously as she ascended slightly to hover over its projected flight path, the beast responded by changing altitudes and speeding up.

“Oh crap, open fire! Shoot that thing out of the sky!” Grayson cried as the VTOLs lasers and cannons fired onto the beast. Although the lasers scorched the surface of the dragon’s scales and the cannons explosive rounds blasted chunks of its scaly hide off, it still flew forward with vigor, bellowing a mighty roar. As it neared Sam performed a multitude of commands that allowed the VTOL to narrowly avoid the dragon’s open maw in a nauseating sideways strafe.

“Command, this is Grayson requesting immediate anti-air support! An unknown dragon-like creature is attacking our VTOL!” He reported to the Southern Cross.

“Copy that Commander, arming the anti-air batteries; paint the target and clear the kill zone.” A female voice ordered as Sam began trying to avoid the beast taking sweeps and attempting to bite the small craft while Daniel marked it through his helmet's H.U.D. Meanwhile on the Southern Cross, the entire port side of the ship began lighting up like a Christmas tree. Multiple anti-air cannons, lasers, missile pods, mortars and turrets were starting up while Machina crew on standby and Human gunners took their positions or plugged in. The sides of the ship were bathed in noise as defense and offense systems powered up over a longer period of time. Panels slid off the side of the ship and long barrels of different length, shape and design slowly began crawling out while locking onto the marked target.

“Raven-1, be advised, you’re in the kill zone!” The officer on the other end cried while Sam struggled desperately to evade the beast closing in on her and her crew.

“I know, Styx damn it! I can’t shake the fuc-shit!” Sam screamed as the gargantuan creature swung its intimidating tail around and smashed it into the back of the VTOL, shaking it wildly and damaging the main engines.

“Crap! Not good!” Sam stated as she lowered the blast shields and closed off the sides of the VTOL, bringing the Commander and another Shock Trooper inside as the massive plates slammed down. Sam did her best to stabilize the VTOL as it began descending rapidly, she tried to damage the swiftly approaching dragon.

“Eat this, you bloody lizard!” She yelled as she fired upon the dragon. Due to just how close it was and how big of a target it was, two or so lasers hit home in its left eye and violently blinded it while burning the entire organ. As it stopped and began screeching loudly in pain, it gave the VTOL enough time to get far enough away from it mid frenzy.

“Friendly has left the kill zone, stations 1 through 10 open fire!” The Officer ordered. Throughout the Everfree Forest, the Silver Mountains and a few distant towns in Equestria the sound of massive cannons firing, missiles soaring and gigantic lasers firing overpowered everything else. A fiery barrage of death and destruction impacted onto the Dragon. The laser's scorched the outer scales and ignited a few large clumps, huge explosive shells tore into the fatty layers of tissue and fat underneath the shining blue scales and the missiles hit home deep inside the gaping wounds. The Everfree Forest was showered in bloody chunks of burning meat of various sizes, blackened scales and charred dragon bones, eventually followed by the partially annihilated corpse of the formerly mighty beast crashing destructively into the foliage.

“Target is K.I.A, I repeat, target is K.I.A! Raven-1 do you copy? Over.”

“This is Commander Grayson, our main engine was hit by the unknown native. We’re on a collision course with a swamp in the unexplored forest, ov-”

“Brace!” Sam warned over the Commander’s report, the sound of a crash silencing the coms.

“Raven-1 do you copy? Commander Grayson, report!” The Officer questioned after a long pause, but received no response. “Drone-5, are you there? Respond!”

“This is Heavy Assault Trooper Xexes, we’ve set up the outpost but we were attacked by unknown natives. We’re fine and the outpost is mostly intact, but our APC is totaled and our driver had to be removed from his clamps forcefully, he’s in no condition to transport us. We have no idea what happened to our air support, we lost visual contact after something flew over us. I’m going to assume those explosions were the Southern Cross responding?” John reported, pausing for a moment. “We need an immediate air extraction. Over.” He added as he surveyed the ground team. A.D.a.M was in rough shape, after removing its tank threads from the clamp they had to power it down so they could transport him safely. The Machina/Hybrid soldiers from Hivemind were intact but the scientists and field engineers were shaken up from the encounter.

“We’re able to send three Griffons to pick up the repair team, but we need you and a few others to investigate Raven-1’s crash site and rescue any survivors. A large, airborne, native creature knocked them out of the sky and the air team can’t land near the swamp they landed in, the foliage is too thick.” The Officer filled in. If anyone could see John’s face, they’d know instantly he was shocked at the news.

“We’ll head out right away Command, how far did they crash?” John asked as he quickly reloaded his rifle and checked his sidearm.

“Three klicks north east of your A.O. We suggest a small, fast squad with a field engineer and a few soldiers.” The Officer informed.

“Jonathan, I volunteer for the mission.” Deckard called out as he rested A.D.a.M’s body, sans legs, on a box to avoid mud or water in his exposed circuits and wires.

“Understand new mission parameters - search and rescue of downed air support.” Unit 366 paused briefly. “New mission parameters accepted.” 366 informed as he quickly topped off the Chemtrail rifle acid tank and checked his ammo.  As the two operatives stepped forward, so did two female Hybrid scouts and a Machina field medic, all three wearing the standard armour for Hivemind field operatives, jungle camouflaged nanofiber armour, armoured hoods, night vision goggles resting on their heads and dark green balaclavas. The only difference on the bipedal Machina’s uniform were the small red crosses on the armour plates resting over its ‘shoulders’.

“Roger that Command, we’re heading out immediately.” John ordered as the remaining security force watched them leave.

“New operation risk assessment… level 4. Considerable caution is advised.” 366 warned as his sensors began scanning the dark forest for movement.

“Always liked a challenge.” Deckard mumbled under his breath as he recharged the Tempest.

“Don’t worry guys, we’re coming…” John said under his breath as he and the small team jogged into the woods, their heavy metal feet and boots thumping and crunching in the dirt, following the indicator on their H.U.Ds of the rough location of the crash site. John vowed he wasn’t going to let Sam and Dan and his team die on some rock, he knew they were still alive.

They had to be...

This fucking foreword. -Anon, the editor.

*Friendo hijacked PC, Couldn’t be bothered to delete it. - LPC the Mastermind.

Foreword written by the esteemed Pequod.

JOHN CENA appeared from the wreckage. Or did he? No one could be sure, for they could not perceive the JOHN, they could only feel the presence, bask in the glow of his glory. He flexed, creating a shockwave that echoed amongst the valley walls, scaring all the critters back to their nests and caves. He took a step, the trees trembling, leaves shaking and falling to the lush green grass. JOHN could sense, he could FEEL, this was his home. He breathed in deep, and opened his mouth.

“MY TIME IS NOW!”

Trumpets played, the earth shook, the skies lit up with lightning.