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1080085 No. 1080085 ID: 8928a2


The fuck?
Five years ago, I attempted to write a prequel story for the magnificent Enemy Quest. If you haven't read EQ, what are you even doing? Go read it! The original War quest can be found here: https://questden.org/kusaba/graveyard/res/857294.html

So what happened?
Some pretty dramatic life changes, including but not limited to having two children in rapid succession. Considering the fate of the original Enemy Quest, I can only conclude writing about Golborians makes humans incredibly

So what now?
We pick up where we left off! Did I mention I'm an even worse artist than the last time I tried this? Get ready for some really basic images to set the scene and a lot of text!


You snap awake in the corner of a ruined building. You were- are? dreaming. The handshake protocol. Something seriously fucked must have happened to create this kind of meta-corruption. You feel like you've been floating in darkness for years. Probably more like hours. Your mind struggles to distinguish between your slumber in the real world, the battle of Boston being recollected in your digital brain, and the dream within the memory. You had put your head down for a minute between waves of enemies. Your internal clock says that nearly 90 minutes have passed. The calendar claims it has been two days since you arrived in Boston. Exhaustion was setting in, cybernetics and synthetic neurotransmitters be damned. The sleepiness cleared and you realized your heart was pounding and your lungs were burning. Fear is howling from the back of your mind, compartmentalized but unmistakably there.

What the fuck just happened?

Simultaneously in the reverie and the real world, you probe the last forty-eight hours of memory. The resultant dichotomy almost manifests as physical pain.


Someone has edited your memories. The memory itself is gone, but not the recollection of the memory. It feels like a copy of a copy of a copy. Or a dream.

You remember.

The enemy has invaded Earth. Golborians. A coalition of alien races under the fascist rule of one leader - The Kariket. They didn't arrive in ships, they simply tore open doors to our world and walked across our threshold. New York has been under siege for months. A new front has opened over Boston. You have been tasked with breaking this offensive, and closing the portal if possible.

You encountered a friendly cruise missile with a nuclear warhead. It joined your unit and you were deciding what to do with it.

A unit of enemy Floaters - synthetic clones of a collective super-mind - attempted to hack your unit's systems and seize control of the missile. Your infowar specialist countered the worst of their attempt, but one of them got to you. You think they tried to trigger your threat responses and trick you into turning on your comrades. The Floaters failed.

You killed them all.

You felt the electronic tingle of their hyper-conductive blood as it ran down the metal of your blades. Tasted the caustic bitterness in your mouth. When did you take your helmet off? There's plastic skin in your teeth.

Logan International Airport was overrun with enemy soldiers. Shock weapons sliced prismatic bolts of light into the night sky towards you.

You killed them all.

Nuclear fire raced across the tarmac, consuming everything in its path as multiple blast fronts crashed into each other and ejected nearly-fusing plasma upwards in hazy gouts.

It took nearly all of your tactical-yield fusion grenades, but three-quarters of the enemy army had been reduced to ash. The terminal was completely gone, its burning debris sprayed across Jeffries Point. You saw a number of Garakton in purple armour moving among the dust and innumerable fires.

You killed them all.

Blood splattered across the inside of the Warrior's visored helmet. You could still see his amber eyes glaring at you through the gore, and watched them twist in agony as you likewise twisted one of your blades in his guts. His upper arms were stumps, pushing feebly against your shoulders, and one of his lower hands was weakly gripping your wrist; without the energy to pull your blade out, he is simply trying to stop you moving it further. You took ahold of his neck; he is far too large and muscular to wrap your hand around his throat, so you bury your metal fingers into the meat instead. He groans. You flicked the blade outwards, taking his hand off mid-forearm and tearing a gouge two inches thick through his body as the serrated edges rip and cut in equal measure. The space between you cleared, you saw his remaining hand clutching the crystalline core of his shock javelin. You hurled his body away as hard as you could, ,deployed a portable barricade with practiced ease, and braced for the explosion. Two seconds crawl past before you decide he didn't even get to prime the core. Pathetic.

The memories are becoming clearer as you get back to the present point of reference. "Heads up Sir, they're coming again." Brady's voice snapped you back into focus.

You were pinned down on the south-east side of the Fort Point Channel. The water rippled, then erupted upwards with brown spray as the Route 90 tunnel blew. A swarm of Skut had tried to flank your position before Cotton brought the tunnel down on their heads. You heard Villetri's sniper rifle bark again as several Warriors tried to take snap shots from their position. They were well fortified inside the distribution center across the channel, and had set up an anti-air emplacement. As if on cue, a Floater tumbled out of the sky and exploded into the Summer Street bridge. Two more tore past with a shriek of unearthly engines, followed quickly by a buzzsaw burst of gunfire and PFC Riggs. The fuckers had been so confident in their victory, so fucking arrogant to think there would be so many defenseless targets, they had loaded their fighter-bomber incarnations with so much ordinance they could barely even fly. Riggs had been tearing them apart and they had been so heavy and sluggish they couldn't even dodge. A bomb whistled overhead and splashed harmlessly in a carpark; a desperate half-aimed drop from another Floater trying to make their death worthwhile. The anti-air gun across the way thrummed and jabbed beams of plasma at Riggs; she was moving far too fast for them to get a proper firing solution, but the gun would easily splash any cyborg foolish enough to try and take off inside its range.

"Shit!" you heard Villetri cry out, followed by an explosion. The blast rang like a bell, sharp and concussive, and her position disappeared in smoke. A single image capture appeared on your tac-feed; two Skut, clad in suicide vests, clambering over the parapet of Villetri's rooftop.

1]] Secure Villetri. If you get there fast enough you might be able to get her head into a gravy-bag and save her brain even if the skull is compromised.

2]] You're about to be overrun; running straight to Villetri will draw attention to her body. If her head is intact she has enough emergency O2 to stay alive for an hour. Push through the flanking force, secure your rear, then come back for her.

3]] Fuck this. Nuke the PDC across the channel with a fusion grenade, break the back of their wave, then kill everyone.

4]] _______________________________
Expand all images
No. 1080086 ID: eb0a9c

3) You sometimes wonder what goes on in the mind of a Skut who gladly sacrifices themselves in painful and humiliating fashion.
Well, you'd best oblige them.
Of all the horrors of war, this is the one you expect to laugh about with the silly survivors of these suicidal tribes.
No. 1080087 ID: 8b8c72

Play it smart, always.

Going with a hard 2.
No. 1080088 ID: 76615e

2) play it safe
No. 1080089 ID: a7a180

3. For the mission.
No. 1080091 ID: 5eecdc

Wow, we are back. Let's go for 2.
No. 1080110 ID: a300dd

3. End the enemy force ASAP, save squadmate. We have no idea if the head's intact so we end this. Erase 'em with extreme prejudice to secure what's left of your squadmate.
No. 1080136 ID: cdd487

2) Secure the area, then come for your squadmate.
No. 1080161 ID: 8928a2

"Cotton, we've got contacts behind our line, what's happening?"
His tac-feed had been dark since he'd entered the turnpike, but he should have been back on the surface by now.

You felt the anger rise again, and instead of suppressing it, you focused it. Directed it like you had to back on the other side, pointed it at what had to die so you could live.

You pinged a park a mile and a half south-east, and ordered a hot exfil.
"I'm going to create a window. We rendezvous at the marked point and sweep back through the rats and into the turnpike."
Riggs angrily started to say something before her comm abruptly went silent. You felt a pang of concern in your chest before her tac-feed copied green. Brady awkwardly shuffled his feet before also copying green. You pulled your second-last fusion grenade off its bandolier and twisted the manual yield setting to maximum. The warheads could be set electronically by a device on the launcher, but you wanted this to be personal.

Without a word you leapt out of a hole in the wall and fired your thrusters at street level. You howled down an alleyway, accelerating as hard as you could, and half second later you were over the water of the channel. As you were passing the grenade to one of your spindly lower limbs, contacts lit up on the building ahead of you. The big gun was powered up, but there was no targeting system painting you. Instead, a dozen small arms opened up from the windows, slicing through the water behind you. Their reactions were fast, but their aim was sloppy. You didn't even bother suppressing them with your autocannon. You pulled up into the tightest half-loop you could manage, firing the bonfire launcher downwards and behind you at the crest of the loop, rolling into a corkscrew that took you under Summer Street, inches from the water, right as the building blew.

Night turned to day once again, and your panoramic vision watched an entire segment of brick wall balloon outwards as it flew through the air and into the channel.
"I got her!" you heard Riggs cheer on the comms, her voice on the edge of tears.
You were about to ask her to clarify when something hit you hard in the back and your mind exploded in agony.

In the moments as she closed in, you finally saw the Floater that had been eclipsed by the explosion. Her eyes were narrow and emotionless, but the barrels of the cannons jutting over each shoulder seemed to stare into your soul. One of the thrusters on your back faltered, and you slammed into the water.

MEMoRy CORRuPtion...
Your head rang as you sank into the blackness. You were back in the dream. You tumbled through the night in agonizing slow-motion, as behind you an artificial sun reached out to kill you. You almost flinched away, almost succumbed to those weak human impulses, before you remembered your life was already spraying out of the stumps of your arms. You felt warmth on your face as you continued to tumble, and you confronted your encroaching death.

You opened your eyes.

You were at the bottom of the channel, your helmet pressed up against something. You pull back, and illuminated in the undulating light of the nuclear blast, you see something that brought the rage crashing back over your mind in an unstoppable wave.

You launched off the bottom, firing your thrusters at max power, ignoring the wound in your back and the blinking alert of damage to your flight systems. You exploded into clear air, jetting upwards and scouring the surface for the Floater bitch. Your sensors spotted her thruster trail as your eyes spotted her shadow set long across the water of the harbor by the dying light of the nuke. She was already rolling over onto her back to engage, revealing rack after rack of cluster munitions across her chest and belly. Even the fighters were greedy for easy kills. She hooked North, staying over the water and dipping close to the jetties as she accelerated back up to combat speed, but you were already on her. You lagged your pursuit, staying below her guns as she twisted and turned, trying to get a bead. Your guns were full of water, but you didn't need them. You narrowed your angle of attack, letting your speed carry you into her, and drove a fist straight up between her stubby legs. She barely appeared to register the pain, but as your hand closed over something solid among her shattered pelvis, her legs convulsed violently. She tried to resist as you pulled into a climb, blasted you across the face with a leg thruster, but her legs went limp and her thrusters cold as the trunk of synthetic nerves in your fist collapsed with a crunch. You'd climbed about a thousand feet into the air as you passed over Charleston, when you pulled your fist out of the Floater's ass and let her drop helplessly back to earth.

Your sensors detected several trios of Floaters, but they were scattering like minnows. Charleston was already in ruins, the streets choked with red brick rubble and smoke filled the sky in black gouts. You wouldn't find the enemy here. You growled aloud as you turned back South, crossed the harbor again and dropped down to street level as you followed the boulevard along the waterfront towards the waypoint, searching for the movement of any Golborian motherfucker. On cue, a dozen Skut streamed out of a hotel at the end of the boulevard. The little shits had excellent senses and were masters of ambushes, seeming to always know when you were coming. They hadn't expected you to maintain thrust and blow through the entire group, acidic gore and entrails hissing as they sprayed across your armour. You heard a whump behind you as a Skut feebly triggered their explosive vest, followed by a staccato burst of more explosions as what was left of the group went up in a chain reaction.

The rage began to subside, along with the ringing in your ears as you crossed the warehouses of the southern docks, and after you dipped into the waterway to wash off the Skut blood, you heard Riggs in your head as you surfaced.

"-eah he's coming. Sand, are you okay?!"
You saw four figures in the park as you came in to land; Cotton slumped against a tree with his head between his legs, Riggs kneeling over what was left of Villetri, and Brady standing a short distance away on guard.

1]] Check on Villetri.

2]] Check on Cotton.

3]] Admonish Riggs.

4]] Ask the team for an update.

5]] ______________________
No. 1080163 ID: 72d915

4) Sitrep. We have to figure out if this op can be salvaged. Worst case we nuke the portal's opposite side to buy time to resupply and regroup. Possibly repair and reinforce. Save everything else for debriefing.
No. 1080248 ID: 76615e

4) Are there any active targets nearby, or is it time to pull back?
No. 1080266 ID: 8928a2
File 170429301572.png - (958.04KB , 1200x900 , EQVSkull.png )

"Sitrep, two minutes." You replied to the team. Your legs wobbled slightly as you landed. As the ringing in your ears steadily lessened, the pain in your chest intensified. The air was cool and slightly damp in the park, but you felt hot and short of breath. You considered taking off your helmet.

You strode over to where Villetri was laid out. Her body was little more than a chrome skeleton laying in a carpet of burned rags and gore. In most places she was so badly shredded you couldn't tell the difference between blackened skin and what was left of her uniform. The blast had ripped her helmet off, and taken her visor implant with it, leaving a giant void that no longer resembled eye sockets. Riggs was applying bacta-foam to the openings in V's skull, and her hands were shaking slightly as she sprayed more and more foam into the eye-space to try and seal it closed.

There was a halo of wires and electronics around V's head, and as you looked at them your bionics synced up, giving you a readout of her systems and her vitals. Her brain was alive. That was about where the good news ended. A shredded gravy bag lay on the grass as well. Normally they were filled with a sludgy mix of nanomachines and artificial blood serum, but this one was empty.

"The bags are all ruined and I don't have the full triage library I just have the basics so I did what it said and hooked up diagnostics and gave her nanos and I don't know if she's in pain and the triage doesn't tell you what safe dosages are when your patient is just a brain and..." the words spilled out of Riggs in a wave, before her gimbal-eye looked up at you and she flinched. You saw her vision flick to the gaping wound in your chest and back to your helmeted head, then back again, but quicker.

"We'll talk about that later," you growled, then coughed. A dark clot the size of an apricot shot out of the wound, followed by a bubbling gurgle. "Fuck, that's a collapsed lung, bro" you hear Cotton say digitally over the tac-feed without raising his head.
"Stumpy got the drop on me," you replied on the network, sparing your lungs any further stress, "it's just a through and through."
"From what, a bus?!" Riggs blurted.
"Three-inch spearcaster. I mustn't have been fat enough to trigger the warhead."
"Man, I don't need to see that." Cotton sighed.

"Right, we need to figure out our next move. We got-"
"Oh god, I think she's awake," Riggs interrupted with horror. Villetri's readouts flickered slightly, then her tac-feed appeared on the network.
"Owww," she groaned.
"Holy shit, V! You need to stay calm; you've been hit, but we've got you." Riggs said quickly.
"I can't see." She paused for a moment. "You've also disabled my motor cortex. What's going on?"
"I followed the triage document, then I gave you 25cc of nanos and set them to inhibit PTGS."
"Brain injury? You can be more specific with them if you want to prevent blood clots or swelling."
"I don't have the advanced documentation."
"Here," V said, and initiated a file transfer, "I'm obviously out of action anyway so you'll need it."
"Ohhhkay," Riggs replied, her voice steadily became calmer as she continued to talk, but it cracked slightly during the -kay. Villetri sighed and it turned into a nervous laugh. The sound was strange when it was simulated. "It's bad, isn't it? How bad is it? I'm gonna be worrying about it so you might as well save me that stress."
You cut in, "The Skut that jumped you had the big vests on. Your body is a write-off."
Villetri made a noise like a gasp. Riggs stuck her palms out towards you in a gesture of what the fuck?
"The gravy bags are all ruined, and we don't know what to do besides stabilizing you, " Riggs said, worry creeping back into her voice.
"That's really bad," V replied, "how long do I have?"
"About six hours with what we have here."
Villetri didn't say anything for a while.
"Leave me. Sedate me and leave me here. Nobody will notice me among the bodies and the military can collect my remains later. I'll be okay."
A cacophony of protests erupted over the network. Even Brady yelled something in opposition.

"That's enough!" You yelled.
"There's nothing you can do," Villetri added, "I don't even have six hours; when the sun comes up my brain is going to cook. I just don't want to be awake when it happens." You were suddenly aware of a faint haze of light to the East.
"No," you said, "there is something we can do. We need to resupply and the fucking Floaters are still jamming the entire city. One of us can take Villetri west and meet up with the baseline military units on the edge of the city."
"The fuck are they even doing?" Cotton said angrily.
"Getting the shit bombed out of them by Floaters, fighting off a spearhead from Franklin Zoo, and trying to help civilians evacuate." You snapped. "I'll bet good money they've set up a field hospital in Fenway Park using supplies from Vanguard."
"Why don't we all go? Stick together?" Brady asked.
"Hang on, that's a massive breach of operational security," Villetri said, "we can't even be seen by them."
"First of all, we need to stay here and keep the remaining enemy busy. They're out of soft targets to occupy their bloodlust, and reinforcements could drop through that portal at any moment. Drawing the fight west would kill thousands more. Second, we're supposed to be closing that portal. Third, any baseline with binoculars has already seen us, so turning up at a military station isn't going to change much. One of us goes to call command for help, and the rest finish the mission. Villetri will keep long enough we don't need the medics sniffing over her body, we just need their hardline comms."
"So which one of us gets to go?" Cotton asked. You glance up at him and stop dead when you realize why he had his head between his knees.

Like Villetri, Cotton's head was stripped down to a chrome skull. The organic facade on his eyeballs were gone, leaving dark, translucent orbs with faint pinpricks of light in their depths. The metal of his head was discoloured and pitted, and the collar of his blast vest was similarly corroded.
"One of the rats got the drop on me too, after I blew the tunnel. The little shit knocked me out when it blew its vest, and by the time I came to, his blood had melted my helmet and started eating into my head. Burned out my external antenna, so I couldn't call anyone until I was closer." Cotton explained before you had a chance to ask.
"You look like shit, J."
"Right back at you, Spongebob."

1]] Send Riggs. She's the fastest of the squad.

2]] Send Cotton. He's basically walking wounded.

3]] Send Brady. He's the closest to baseline, and you might need Riggs' and Cotton's expertise for what comes next.
No. 1080275 ID: d91d9e

Well Riggs is straight up out of the running. We need infowar for the nuke. Leaning Cotton because he's gotta get fixed up as badly as you do. Just use the launcher next time fool. Still, priorities. Looks like Brady would be best for secrecy and sorta forgot what Cotton's specialty is. Leads to three questions, why is cyborg project secret at all? Seems like both sides would have leaked combat footage. On a scale of "overlooked" to "immediate execution" how crucial is secrecy of your existence? Lastly what is everybody's specialty here? Well, besides Riggs, she's electronic warfare. Details may have Brady be the better choice. Side note. FUCK BARONESS. WITH HELLISH TORTURE DEVICES. Herp derp lol nope you can't end this by nuking Kariket's location surgically lol. We'll let Human civilians get genocided and lots of combatants on both sides die because no genocide allowed for Humans herp derp. Oh nope can't nuke opposite side of enemy portals even though it's likely only hostile combatants would get splashed. We're good guys so we have to have a protracted conventional battle. Where more will die! Seriously how has a commander not gone rogue with a few oculots and ended this? Her wrath would be a small price to pay to save *millions of lives* on *both sides*!
No. 1080298 ID: 76615e

2) secrecy is out by this point, and the obvious cyborg that is obviously injured should get the point across to anyone that tries to get in the way.
No. 1080302 ID: 8b8c72

Opsec must be maintained as best as possible, and we need everything we can get to settle matters in the field.
No. 1080304 ID: eb0a9c

Because portal nukes are a slippery slope. Even if they kill this broken Kariket, the next Kariket is going to get all sorts of nuclear 'options'.

We'll consider your... proposal. But an ass that high is likely well-prepared to preserve herself from the literal end of a world.
No. 1080320 ID: 8928a2
File 170437867979.png - (7.02KB , 1280x720 , EQAlert.png )

Question Time
These answers will all be in-character knowledge for Gregory, so other factors may be at play.

>Why are cyborgs secret?
Short answer - it's harder to counter you the less the enemy know about you.
Long answer - Operational rules are that the enemy are not to capture an intact cyborg under ANY circumstances. This is especially pertinent while inside enemy territory. Where possible the head should be salvaged to save the soldier's life, but the first rule takes priority. Your mixed biology would create a MAJOR political blowout in Golborian command structure and likely bring their full military wrath down on Earth. We'll get into that more in a minute. You suspect the Floater Collective know about the cyborg soldiers, but they either don't think it is worth sharing, or they're deliberately withholding information from their allies.
Secrecy on Earth is more relaxed, but contains a number of overlapping factors. Despite Earth governments forming a military coalition for mutual defense, the US government has made it clear they have no interest in sharing classified technology with their political enemies unless absolutely necessary. You suspect they intend to use cyborgs and compact fusion technology in the future if the war ever ends, to maintain their own position as a superpower.
There's also the matter of spies. A number of Visitor refugees have been captured whilst attempting to traverse back to Golboria, and have confessed under interrogation to be spies of varying shades of loyalty; from unwilling pawns being threatened with violence against family still in their homeland, to dyed-in-the-wool Karkeetian saboteurs. As Visitors are permitted to serve in non-combat support roles, there is a non-zero chance of encountering an enemy agent at a field hospital.

>How severe are the consequences for breaking secrecy?
Short answer - depends.
Long answer - A military tribunal would examine the situation and determine intent and damage. Unless you deliberately handed someone over to the enemy, nobody is getting executed. You're confident that saving a life necessitates a breach. Taking steps to minimize exposure will also reflect favorably; whoever goes, you will brief them on what to do and say.

>What are everyone's roles?
Corporal James Cotton:
CQC and demolitions. Cotton is slower and even more heavily armed than you are. He operates fluidly as an anchor point in a battle line, or as a spearhead to exploit a weakness. Typical armaments include shotguns, recoilless rifles, remote explosives, fragmentation projectors, tactical-yield unguided rockets, fusion grenades, and recently a Strohl R-50 rotary cannon. He's also demonstrated an affinity for captured shock weapons.

Corporal Sienna Villetri:
Designated Marksman and squad medic. Given her roles both involve operating in support of the rest of the squad, Villetri's loadout is relatively basic; a standard XM312 machine gun on a forearm or shoulder slot, and a 25mm anti-materiel rifle. She is capable of carrying additional support weaponry such as blind-fire guided missiles, or using her mobility to operate as a hunter-killer, eliminating priority targets designated by other team members.

Private First-Class Ellen Riggs:
ECM, Overwatch, and Air Superiority. Riggs is a natural in the air. Her rank belies her abilities; her skills in electronics warfare and air-to-air engagement would immediately qualify her for Senior Airman in the Air Force, but you're currently petitioning command for recognition and immediate promotion to Specialist pending the BLC to qualify for Corporal. Her armament is typically an array of XM312s and guided munitions, operating as air superiority against Floater units, as well as providing surveillance data for squad members and painting targets for squad munitions.

Private Tallis Brady:
Trooper. Brady is new to the squad, typically attaching to a teammate and providing additional firepower in their role. He is equipped with the standard pair of XM312s on his forearms, as well as a grenade launcher and an additional support munition rack, similar to Villetri. He has shown a talent for flying whilst under Riggs' tutelage, and you suspect he will become an air-to-air specialist like her.

>Why won't the Baroness let us nuke the Kariket
Just for starters, nobody actually knows the Kariket's specific location at any given time. The most concrete intel is that he gives public speeches from his palace, but is often hours late or doesn't appear at all. He is notoriously paranoid, utilizing body doubles, obfuscated schedules, and an entire legion of bodyguards. The Baroness would love nothing more than to personally burn the flesh off his bones, publicly, but an assassination plot is dangerous and impractical.

>What about a rogue Occulot
Short answer - they're too scared to help and the enemy would obliterate us.
Long answer - The Baroness' wrath would be the least of their concerns. The Kariket's rule has spanned centuries; it is entrenched in their society in ways humans couldn't comprehend. His secret police has secret police. He has quashed civil wars, rebellions, and coups. An assassination, failed or successful, would cause the collective kid gloves to come off. Along with clandestine reprisals against entire bloodlines, loyalists in the Golborian command structure would push hard for a dramatic escalation in military doctrine.

>Why is it a protracted defensive war
Short answer - the enemy would obliterate us if we made them take things seriously.
Long answer - The political situation in Golboria is fragile. Your unique circumstances as one of the few FlintHELL escapees in active service, along with your elevated security clearance, has seen you sitting in meeting rooms with Colonels and Major-Generals to be called upon as a cultural expert, and you've heard things.
This war is equal parts propaganda, recruitment drive, culling, and distraction. Garakton leadership likes this; they call it a blooding; an initiation for the worthy, and a culling of the weakest in honorable combat. Meanwhile, Occulots considered divisive or too free-spirited by Loyalist society were undersold on the severity of the invasion and offered leadership roles in dangerous postings. The goal is to ultimately recruit humanity into the Golborian hegemony, after shoring up political clout and breaking Earth's spirit. Strikes on Golborian territory have been tolerated up to this point for similar reasons.

>Why no WMD's or collateral damage
Short answer - see "protracted defensive war" short answer.
Long answer - It would greatly upset the political landscape. Striking Golborian civilians would signal that humanity wants all-out war; despite grievous civilian casualties on Earth, the Golborians are mostly toying with us. The Baroness has implied that they have weapons an order of magnitude more powerful than Earth's nuclear technology, that are reserved for open warfare.
It would also completely erode the support from Visitor refugees and cease immigration entirely. Defectors from the Portal Guild have made it clear that the Baroness speaks for all of them when she says they left to get away from abetting genocide. Humanity's restraint has also earned respect from the whole spectrum of Warrior society as highly honorable, and caused a significant increase in Warrior immigrants. Floater refugees are unheard of, but there are a growing number of Skut families seeking to escape from under the heel of the larger dynasties for more compassionate pastures.

>Fuck the Baroness, painfully.
You sympathize with the delicate balance she has to strike. However, you don't agree with most of her decisions, and if she walks out of the war's end scott-free, you might just tear her apart with your bare hands.
No. 1080321 ID: e54389

Well that does have Brady edge out Cotton for medivac duties. Does nobody else have a gravy bag? Would simplify things. Still don't quite buy this. Low yield nukes should still only splash hostile combatants. Like do they build military bases inside major cities? Or it the Hamas tactic of bunkers below hospitals? How do they mass for offensives without logistical SNAFUs if so? Even if low yield is too collateral, cruise missile tech is clearly good enough to target portal Oculots once through. Like hell they're stopping 500 pound - 2 ton bombs. Would send a clear effin' message. Open a portal and you die. Don't need baroness for those tactics. Sure as hell bet the Russians are considering leaving the coalition because of her extreme violations of sovereignty because she seems as if she's unofficially Kariket of Earth. Oh and sure them having deadlier WMDs makes sense. Still betting the blackest of black ops is developing an anti-oculot bioweapon as a final screw you if Earth is about to lose. Would likely off the Kariket as well as portal oculots who would deliver the WMDs. Just don't see Humanity letting a tech disadvantage alone decide if we keep our freedom and lives.
No. 1080339 ID: 8928a2

Keep in mind this is just what Gregory knows. Black op contingencies are almost certain, given that was how the cyborg program came to life.

>Are military bases inside major cities?
In the case of Warriors, military bases ARE major cities. They would not be fazed by civilian casualties and think Humanity feels the same, but other races stationed there would be upset about their families being blown to smithereens, especially when Human diplomatic channels are trying to convince them that we don't like it either. We are undermining the Kariket's rule by appearing to be the good guys, and the Baroness is a staunch advocate for this approach.

>The Russians
Have already gone rogue once with nerve agents, which was the catalyst for such a hardline stance on offensive portal use. They were given an inch and took a mile.

>Kariket of Earth
The Baroness has maintained her position by assuring Earth leadership that civilian massacres would happen less and less, and so far she had been correct. This attack on Boston is a worrying shift in tactics. It's possible a more extreme faction of the Garakton have won a duel of opinion, or the Kariket's propaganda corps have whipped them into a frenzy. You'd be happier about the Baroness' feet of clay if it hadn't come at the cost of thousands of lives.
No. 1080373 ID: 8b8c72

I already cast my vote in the last update, but I love the lore you bring to the table.
I'm an old Enemy Quest fan, so I'm all in on this ride.
No. 1080406 ID: e2fff1

Shoot our sniper is the badly wounded one? Gonna make portal closing tough. Either way lore fits enough. Still have a few minor nitpicks but will ignore those. Save it for a disthread perhaps. Got a level of sympathy for the xenophobes, though. Would like to reiterate though. Does anyone else have gravy bags? Well, regular units seem to be close by so can we request artillery fire close to the portal? Enough disarray might give us an opening. Grenades. Seem to just level a building at max yield. Would tossing/launching one in be enough to off the oculot without hitting civvies? What if it's at a lower yield?
No. 1080458 ID: 8928a2
File 170454876997.png - (940.68KB , 1200x900 , EQVSkull2.png )

"Brady! You're up!" The poor boy almost flinched at his name, but there was no fear in his body language when he rushed over to the group, chin up.
"I can be there in thirty seconds, sir."
"You'd... have to pull three G's in accel and decel to make that kind of time." Riggs interrupted.
"Yeah, no sweat."
"Kid, V's in critical condition."
"I- I'm sorry sir, I didn't think of that sir, I just wanted to-"
"Relax, I get it. But remember your training. When you've got someone by their rig and you're dragging them to safety, what's your mantra?"
"Quickly but carefully, sir." He said without hesitation.
"That's right. Same situation here. Don't rush. I need your head on a swivel and the moment you cross the freeway I want you to blast your IFF as loud as you can. They're gonna light you up with weapon locks, and you need to stay calm and stay the course. Remember, you're gonna look like a Floater to them. Copy?"
"Solid copy sir, I'll be cool as ice."
You gave him an encouraging slap on the shoulder and turned back to Riggs.
"Riggs, can you please sedate Villetri and prep her for transport?"
"On it. You ready V?"
"Um. Can Ellen and I have a moment of privacy? I need to tell her some things."
"Five minutes." You kept your tone soft; it was more a reminder of urgency than a strict time limit. You felt/heard Villetri and Riggs flip to a private channel, and you took Brady by the arm and led him a short distance away.

One pep talk on the do's and dont's of negotiating your way into meeting a base commander later, Riggs and Villetri were ready. Villetri was wrapped in the remains of the gravy bags, and carefully folded into Brady's pack. She'd been talking the whole time, instructing the group on preparing her, but had steadily gotten quieter. Riggs had the last syringe in her hand.
"Alright, I'm going to put you under now."
"Sienna, you okay?" You asked.
"I'm scared, guys. When I was laid out and told I had less than six hours to live it was all so sudden and final I could just roll with it, but now..."
"Now there's hope you'll live and you're scared you won't." Cotton chimed in. He'd been silent since taking over from Brady on sentry duty.

1]] "This isn't goodbye."

2]] "This entire job was a second chance at life."

3]] "You knew this day could come."

4]] _______________________________
No. 1080459 ID: 8928a2

>Gravy bags
Your squad only has three. You and Cotton get way too hot in combat to safely carry one, but Riggs might be a candidate for redundancy, especially now she's done so well at field triage.

Not the best option with active jamming of communications and an unknown number of friendly civilians still in the central Boston area. You've briefed Brady on how the military could be of help though.

These guys pack a wallop. At full power they're equivalent to about 100T of TNT; the "building" you leveled was about a quarter mile long. At lowest yield they're about 1.5T, more than enough to splatter a target with acceptable collateral. The tricky part is that you'd have to cross through the portal, locate the right Occ, fire, and get out again before they were killed or realized you were there. Not impossible for a superhuman cyborg.

Thanks! I can only ever dream of matching Brom's talent for writing and world building.
No. 1080462 ID: 87f492

4) "Don't give up." Little confused. Firstly shouldn't most civvies be hiding in bunkers/shelters? Whoever is not is likely dead regardless if they're in proximity of the portal. Figured the priority would be stomping the hostile LZ. Would save the most civvies overall. Secondly who was the genius who sent a nuke we can't use while not sending HARM missiles set to home-on-jam if it's known hostiles use jamming during landfall? Lastly, why do we have to cross the portal? Why would tossing/launching through it fail? Should explode on the opposite side, plus the portal oculot should be close by to maintain a portal so splashing it should be assured at low/mid yield.
No. 1080467 ID: 8b8c72

"This isn't goodbye."
No. 1080475 ID: 8928a2

As much as you're probably right, rules of engagement prohibit needless risk to friendlies. Artillery is generally an area of effect weapon, with a large radius of stray shells and adjusting fire. A laser-guided JDAM, on the other hand...

>Hammer the LZ
This is why you nuked the shit out of Logan International with 2.4kT of fusion grenades. You've spent the last two days near-continuously hunting and fighting the 500-strong vanguard that scattered into the city heart before you wiped out the majority of the enemy force. Riggs has made a commendable effort to eliminate the Floater presence, but there are still enough airborne assets to keep the military pinned down at the city outskirts. Supply lines are already strained with the ongoing siege of New York, but you suspect they'll soon have mustered enough materiel to sweep the city in force. Unfortunately, the enemy are almost certainly also mustering a second wave.

>Why send us a nuke
The missile is more like a weapons platform. It was part of an earlier force that was wiped out, and has already used up its countermeasures and anti-floater submunitions, some of which are designed to engage sources of jamming. The nuclear warhead is a MAD contingency if the city was completely overrun.

>Closing the portal
In most cases you are right, toss a grenade through, splatter the Occ, job done. However this portal is almost five miles in diameter, which is a lot of empty space for a grenade to miss the source. It also suggests an especially skilled Occulot and organised invasion force, so they could have the little bugger holed up in a bunker. You'll need to figure out a plan with Riggs and Cotton for how you want to attack.
No. 1080503 ID: 01b128

What about the secondary portal at the zoo? Should it be smaller we could grenade that while awaiting resupply because we NEED MORE GRENADES. Either way got plans for the second wave. Do have to know one thing though. Do they steadily pour through a portal or do they arrive as a whole group?
No. 1080612 ID: 8b8c72

If they opened such a large portal, the last thing they'd expect is to get bottlenecked.
Is there any place they would HAVE to move through to make any progress?
No. 1080758 ID: 8928a2
File 170498491017.png - (328.26KB , 1280x720 , EQTakeoff.png )

"Don't give up on that hope," Cotton said. "Hope is what carries you through your fears. It doesn't go away just because you're scared."
"This isn't goodbye," you added, "if anyone is making it back from this mission, it's you."
"Don't take that bet." Villetri shot back, then laughed. "Okay, I'm ready. Good luck everyone."
"When you wake up you'll have new eyes to open, but you get to pick what colour they are," Riggs said, before administering the sedative.
"That sounds... kinda cool..." Villetri said before going under again.

Two minutes later Brady was gingerly taking off and arcing away over the rooftops.
"What now, sir?" Cotton asked, while you slumped to your knees next to the scattered remnants of Villetri's medical bag, and let out a loud sigh that sounded like Fwooooohhhargh.
"Is this the part where you chew me out for saving V's life?" Riggs asked, trying to hide her nervousness with sarcasm.
"This, Private, is the part where I decide how hard I'm going to chew later, based on how good a job you do of patching me up right now."
"Oh! Of course, sorry sir." Riggs jolted into action, and her hands were quickly filled with rustling plastic sleeves of medical supplies.

You heard her unzip some kind of case behind you, and felt something plug into the side of your helmet, just behind the antenna cluster.
"First thing's first, I'm hooking you up to diagnostics and running a full pain blocker. That wound must hurt like hell with the default thresholds."
An abstracted schematic of your body appeared in your vision. There's a number of warnings branching off your chest. You also felt the pain vanish so quickly it left your chest and arms slightly numb.
"Looks like I've got a full break on the T7-" You started to say.
"You don't have to tell me, I'm seeing what you're seeing." Riggs interrupted. "Sats are depressed but stable..." Suddenly the image of your chest flared red and and a swathe of pain receptors reported signal. A graph helpfully mapped the signal strength to approximately 80% of maximum.
"Woah, take it easy back there!" You cried out.
"I haven't even touched you yet, that pain was caused by you breathing."
You decide to stay quiet.
"I'm going to slip a microprobe into the wound and see what is going on with your lung." Riggs said, "This will probably feel pretty uncomfortable, but you shouldn't have any pain."
You feel the wire-like probe snake into your back, and true to Riggs' word, wherever it touches creates a sharp sensation, like fire or an electric shock.
"You've lost a lot of blood into your chest cavity. Your clotting is keeping you from bleeding out, but the constant motion means it can't form a solid enough barrier, and the goop is acting like a bubble lock and filling your chest with air."
She steps around to stand in front of you, and starts opening pouches on your chest rig.
"Where's your quikclot?"
"I had a couple sachets of powder in the usual spot; your left side, third pocket down." Your hand traced the path as you said it aloud, ending directly above the exit wound.
"Powder? Okay grandpa, these days we use gauze impregnated with the stuff. The spear brobably blew that crap all through your wound, which would explain the giant clot that you coughed up before."
She sighed, "I don't think I can do anything for your lung. The wound is way too big for a proper thoracotomy. I might be able to grab your lung with foreceps and help it inflate long enough to put a couple sutures in, but that's at the limit of what I can do with field equipment. Is your helmet feeding you pressurized air?"
"Since I landed." You replied.
"Let me see what I can do." Riggs said, and before you could react, she'd flipped your chest rig over your head and started to unzip your bodysuit. Your hand flinched up to stop her, but she'd already exposed the ragged scar running across your neck. She froze.

"Jesus! I knew deep scars could carry across the conversion process but..." She hissed, "Jesus. What happened to you?"

1[Lie] "My first op didn't go so great."

2[Truth] "It's self inflicted."

3[Deflect] "It's rude to pry. And I've still got a giant hole in my chest."

4]] ____________________________________
No. 1080759 ID: 8928a2

Portals are a lot like an actual doorway. The larger they are, the more things can move through them at once. The more prestigious an army unit is, the better organised and equipped their portal offensive will be. A standard strategy is to orient the portal perpendicular to the ground, and soldiers will just march through. Large-scale assaults or specialist strike teams will often utilize portals paralell to the ground, and have gantries or floating platforms set up so entire sections can jump through simultaneously. Where the exit portal is extremely high in the sky, such as Boston, they also utilize disposable thruster packs to slow their descent. A million soldiers could jump through Boston's portal and still have their pick of landing zones.
No. 1080769 ID: bec3d6

4) We both live through this maybe you'll get that tale.
...Heh. Eheheh. So if we were to sabotage the thrusters before or do severe damage as they go through... gravity will do most of the work for us?
No. 1081051 ID: 8928a2
File 170530191769.png - (286.34KB , 1280x720 , EQMap.png )

>author's notes: the purple circle denotes the approximate area covered by the enemy portal. Cotton, Riggs', and Gregory's plans are noted in red, blue, and yellow respectively.

"That's a story for another time and a lot of drinks," you replied, "if we make it out of this I might just tell it."
She hesitated for a moment, pressing her fingertips gently against the knotted tissue, then looked back down at your wound and continued. You watch her insert a number of tools into the entry wound and feel hard metal probing the inside of your chest, and decide to stop watching her work.
"Cotton, how are you looking for ammo?" You asked digitally.
"Basically dry," he replied, "I've got some HE rockets, about a half load in my XM's, and one box of party mix for the R-50."
"What about you Riggs?"
"I'm kinda busy here!" she snapped, "My details are all synced to the tac feed, read it!"
Her icon flashed and expanded into a status update. You didn't even know you could do that. You were aware that your squad leader training had been rushed, but you felt a flash of frustration at how lax it had really been.
"I didn't know we could do that either," Cotton added, seemingly reading your mind.
Riggs' ordinance racks were empty, and her XM ammo reserves were below 30%.
"What's our next course of action? I'm open to ideas."
"Man we just need some more of those nuke grenades," Cotton said, "bait these bastards into an exchange in the middle of an intersection and FWAM!."
"And how do you plan to convince the enemy to play along with this ideal engagement of yours?" you asked.
"Obviously we need to bottleneck 'em somehow. I'm thinking... we could blow every bridge and tunnel east of MIT and cut off the entire northern part of the city. Maybe set up somewhere like... Shawmut. That looks like residential, lots of rooftops we can hop across, and keep the enemy in enfilade. If they want the friendlies on the west side, and to push on to New York, they'll have to come through us."
"We don't have the ammo for that kind of engagement."
"You're seriously telling me you didn't instruct Brady to request a resupply?"
"I did, but I have no idea how it will arrive or what it'll contain."
"We'll make do with anything they give us. Hell, pick up some shock longswords and lances, there's plenty lying around Fort Point."
"The main problem I see is that is exactly how we got pinned down on the south side for two days. We got lucky that Riggs was able to get airborne and break their air support."
"True, but now we know their tactics. Floater bombers keep us pinned down, Warriors form a perimeter, and the Skut overwhelm us with numbers. We can turn that on their heads if we're not where they're expecting us. We could let them sweep over us and hit from behind, something like that."
"What about hitting the portal over Franklin?" Riggs suddenly chimed in, "We could collapse that one, relieve pressure on friendly forces, then sweep back into the city with reinforcements and fresh supplies?"
"Not bad," you replied, "but why not just hit the big one? I have a nasty feeling they're preparing for another wave. By the time we come back they could be firmly entrenched in Downtown, then they'll start digging civilians out of bunkers and we'll have a second siege on our hands."
"Ultimately it's your call boss," Cotton said.

1]] Cotton's plan: Resupply, bottleneck the enemy, and engage.

2]] Riggs' plan: Blow the portal over Franklin, resupply with friendlies, sweep back into Boston.

3]] Original plan: Blow the primary portal, then sweep up the stragglers.

4]] __________________________________
No. 1081052 ID: 8928a2

Yes, although it would be just as effective to shoot the guy wearing the pack. In the case of Warriors, they might even survive a fall to earth, but broadly speaking they're quite vulnerable while making landfall. They try and mitigate it by firing the thrusters as late as possible, a sort of Golborian counterpart to HALO drops.
No. 1081060 ID: 1afabf

Oh. Presumed the thrusters were for the float platforms not individuals. Well, that changes things. Gotta say blowing up bridges would just delay the regular troops so don't do that one. Got a wild plan though. We could head through the main portal but only to damage/sabotage whatever they have set up with a blitz. Force them to either delay for repairs or go through at a slower pace. Extra bonus if we get an idea of how soon the attack will be. Worst case we abandon the plan and go for the occulots. Erase the portal. Otherwise, once done, we shut down the Zoo portal. Finally, we focus on the floaters. Seems like hostile AA is garbage without the floaters so regardless of if they delay or go through slowly they're boned. Delays would give the regulars a shot to move in and dial in the whole place crushing the offensive with defeats-in-detail. Portaling slowly would allow air support (air force, A-10s, helos) to overwhelm floaters and use precision weapons for crushing ground forces.
No. 1081061 ID: b3eab7

2]] Relieving pressure on friendlies sounds good. Also avoids having to fight on several fronts.
No. 1081552 ID: 8b8c72

I'm going to go with Rigg's plan.
No. 1083590 ID: 8928a2

Update coming soon, apologies for the delay.
No. 1083802 ID: 8928a2
File 170844946995.png - (261.29KB , 632x474 , EQHypno.png )

POST SOUNDTRACK: Irving Force - Entering Misantropol

You mulled your thoughts for a short while.
"I'm thinking of ways we could drag this out, bait them into sending more troops but not too many at once, and defeat them piecemeal. Floater air cover is thin and I doubt they can talk to each other through this jamming."
"They can," Riggs answered, "The jamming has been pulsing at regular intervals, leaving comms open for a few microseconds. Their encryption is wild so I don't know what they're telling each other, but from what I know of their bandwidth, they're not getting much data through. At a guess I'd say location data of known friendlies and hostiles. I've been trying to predict the next pulse and get a message off to command, but it's just too fast. The intervals are obviously following some kind of cypher, because they're never less than five or more than nine seconds apart. In theory we could hit a Floater fast enough and his buddies wouldn't even know where he went."
"Good to know." You replied. "Right, so safe to assume units on the ground are operating autonomously, save for direct LOS comms. That also means they aren't calling home to warn anyone they're losing. Here's what we're gonna do. We're going to hit them in the middle of Downtown with a feint and retreat south-west. Focus on Floaters, everything else has to hoof after us. We can watch their moves and see how well coordinated they are. We're going to collect a supply dump that Brady will have arranged, and we're going to blitz the Franklin portal. Close it if possible, but otherwise smash materiel and limit their ability to pressure friendly forces. If we hit hard enough they might even close the portal to prevent further strikes. We're not going to hang around and find out. As soon as we've struck, we're sweeping back north-east and smashing into the vanguard that comes after us from the city centre. If we're fast enough we can lay an ambush but otherwise we'll just hammer them from the air."
"That sounds like trying to fight a war on two fronts." Cotton grumbled.
"Get used to it; we're capable of rapid redeployment and that's how these large-scale battles are going to go. If we swat enough Floaters we can thin out their jamming, and command will finally get off their asses and-"

"Finished!" Riggs said cheerfully, standing up. You appeared to have a gauze pad, still wrapped in plastic, taped to your chest. "I know you're not stupid Riggs, but why is the gauze still in the bag?"
"I made a really basic one-way valve! It's open on the back side, but if your chest tries to pull air in through the wound, the plastic schloop gets sucked shut!" She mimics the motion with her hands. "The wound is way too big to try and stitch shut, so I've packed it with gauze and bacta-foam. I managed to get halfway decent sutures on both sides of the lung, so it should reinflate all by itself if it hasn't already. Remind me to tell V that we really need some pneumothorax patches for this kind of thing."
"I don't think shock weapons tend to leave penetrating wounds like this," you replied dryly.
"They do when you get stabbed by them!" Riggs shot back.
You took a deep breath. It felt good, and when you exhaled, you felt a faint tickling gurgle under the bandage.
"It works!" Riggs said gleefully.
"Good work," you said with genuine admiration, "If I can't get you Corporal for your air-to-air skills, we can definitely get you there as an assistant combat medic." You could feel Riggs beaming clear through her helmet.

"Question," Cotton chimed, "How do we know the enemy are going to chase us after we've hit 'em? Like you said, they might just fortify Downtown and start looking for civvie bunkers, if that's their objective."
"The feint is going to be a running fight. I've got a better idea now of how these assholes work together, as long as we don't run too fast, they'll keep chasing us. The Occs won't be able to keep their Warriors on a tight enough leash while we're right there shooting at them, and everyone else will fall into place around them to maintain fighting effectiveness. We just have to stir them up enough they don't get too comfortable while we go back up Franklin Park. Riggs, I want you monitoring air traffic so we don't get grounded. Cotton, ping every single contact you see on the ground, along with their vector. I'll keep the tac-feed updated and painted with their movments. Just keep your ears open and I'll call how we move."
"And the resupply?"
"It will either be a truck from Fenway, parked on the 93 overpass directly west of here, or if they air drop they'll aim for the middle of the transport depot immediately east of the overpass; it won't be hard to spot. Any other questions?" With that you broke camp and were off again.

Your team climbed to 2000ft while heading west-northwest. To the north you saw a trio of Floaters dive into the safety of the skyscrapers of Boston. Further out still you can see the flickers of more Floater engines, zipping among the urban sprawl. The crater that used to be the USPS distribution centre was burning, and from your elevation you saw the entire transit terminal behind it had been turned into an enormous drift of debris, pushed clear across Atlantic Avenue and partially burying the multi-storeys on the other side. There were about a dozen Skut picking through the debris. While you watched, one dug a Warrior's arm from the ruins and began gnawing on it. Several more dived for the prize and a fight broke out.
"Ferals?" Cotton asked.
"I dunno," you replied, "they never behaved like that on the other side. Maybe these ones aren't sentient and the Occs control them."
"I can't tell if that's better or worse than them using suicide vests because they're fanatics."

"Lots of Floater movement to the North." Riggs said. "I can't get a clean lock but looks like at least two dozen. Maybe sweeping? They're changing direction a lot."
"Think they already mobilizied and that's their air cover while they push North?"
"They're looking for something." You replied. "The Collective always have their own objectives, and they very deliberately avoid loitering over friendlies. They'll be on standby to swoop over when we engage ground forces. The main force is elsewhere."
Downtown and North Point were dead. In the grey of the pre-dawn light, the cruelty of the Golborians had become clearer. Even through the choking smoke, you could see the streets were littered with crashed cars and bodies, strewn in radiating lines like debris after a tsunami. Too few to be everyone, but more than could have been claimed in the initial landings. While you were pinned down in Fort Point, the enemy had been busy. The ghostly apparitions from the bottom of the channel flashed in your vision, and you blinked them away. There was no sign of the enemy.

"The fuck did they go?" Cotton blurted.
"Underground?" You said, while pulling up engagement data. "How many of them are left, they can't have all just-"
"Oh shit." Riggs said. "They're in Back Bay East, hoofing straight for Fenway."
Without questioning you wheeled around and jetted back south-west.
"It was hard to make out among all the fires but I was sweeping with thermals and realized one plume was too cold to be a fire. It's dust from an infantry march."
Within seconds you got close enough that the smoke cover thinned and like a reverse mirage, a large mass of contacts became visible marching along the large gardens in the center of Commonwealth Ave. Warriors, some purple-clad, casually pushed trees over as hundreds of Skut milled around them. You spotted several Occulot officers, the distinctive orange sashes of rank draped across their shoulder spines.
"Don't stop shooting until your guns are at 1%, and then you run like hell for the resupply," you said flatly, "I'll cover your withdrawal."
"You'll be overrun!" Riggs blurted.
"You haul ass and go when I tell you, and I'll still be alive when you get back. No creative interpretations or bending the rules, that's a direct order."

Riggs didn't have time to say anything further before you landed hard on a rooftop overlooking the enemy. The Royal Legionaries were already sprinting for cover, but the rest of them weren't even looking at you as your two squadmates landed on an opposite rooftop.
The next fifteen seconds were a roar of gunfire. You fired indiscriminate bursts of machine guns into anything that moved, while your 30mm fired as quickly as the actuators could move from one Warrior to the next. A shock core sailed into the street below you, followed by the searing white arc of a shock beam. In your peripherals you saw Cotton was wielding a shock gladius, complete with auxilary core launcher, while his Rotary-50 vomited rounds so quickly the tracers became a solid beam. Another explosion rocked the next block over, and Riggs reported she'd expended her ammo. You saw her spin on her feet and slice a Skut clean in half with the leading tip of her wing.
"GO!" you roared, jumping off the rooftop and jetting down to street level, picking up speed and deploying a barricade onto your arm before bodily slamming into a Legionary that stepped out of cover. Your sword was already thrusting past your guard and into their chest before they could even steady themself. You twisted their body to face an Occulot and caught the psychic blast intended for you. Cyan fire shot out of the corpse's helmet as their armor contained the conflagration. You fired a 30mm round over the shoulder of your impromptu shield before shrugging it off you. Skut sprinted at you, mouths gaping. You steadied your footing, before scything through them in a series of short, sharp steps and whips of your blade. It was almost exactly like the 3rd Kata. The surprise had worn off and the enemy were starting to congregate on you, shock beams tearing up the asphalt as you launched for cover. You spat several more short bursts towards enemies that were only visible as grey-white ghosts in the thermal range, and were rewarded with the wet thuds of at least one salvo hitting their mark. A Warrior grabbed a parked car and hurled it at your corner, forcing you to fire your jets and scoot backwards into the street behind you. More beams tore up the brickwork as they pushed the street corner, and you sprinted up an alleyway perpendicular to them. You burst into the next street to see a group of them standing in the open, still shooting where you'd been. Your airburst a 30mm round among them and watched them disappear in fire and dust. The first Floater came howling in, cluster bombs already falling from her chest, as another 30mm round burst in her face. You flung yourself the rest of the way across the street, through the glass facade of a cafe and into the backroom as explosions tore up the street outside.

By your count the ambush had killed over two hundred contacts in under thirty seconds, there would only be stragglers left now. It was suddenly quiet inside the darkened building, the sound of burning fires only punctuated by the distant barks of Garakton.
Move to kill!
Where are they?
It's just one left
I'll kill it with my hands!
You only needed to tease them out for another few minutes before Riggs and Cotton returned, fully loaded.

There was a flash of red light and you felt a sensation almost like something hit you. You turned to look as the light blazed again, and then it was like a wave crashed onto you, pushing you to the bottom of the ocean. Your face itched. The source of the light strode towards you, and if you hadn't already been stunned, the sashay of her hips might have done the job anyway. Something in the back of your mind screamed alarm, but it was a long way away. Her body armour did nothing to hide her curves, if anything it enhanced them. Clawed hands unfurled slowly, flexing delicately before they closed again. You were aware of a pawing sensation, as hands gently explored your crotch. You felt the groin zipper of your bodysuit come undone. For a moment you tensed as you expected the phantom sensation to delve deeper, but no exploration came. The face behind the glowing eye smirked. You couldn't actually see it, your vision was becoming a teal negative as your retinas reached exhaustion.


You didn't have retinas, you had bionic vision. Suddenly her face was crystal clear, the glow of her eye a mere glimmer. You could still see the illusion, like a movie playing on a bad projector, but you were aware of the deception. The occulot either didn't notice or didn't care as she continued to pad silently towards you. You struggled to concentrate as the illusion faded. Wait, the light was the illusion, wasn't it? That was getting brighter again. The hands found your groin.

1]] Resist the illusion

2]] Play along and wait for an opportunity

No. 1083806 ID: 0a5545

3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3
No. 1083808 ID: b3eab7

1]] Resist now. Playing along feels like it could drag you deeper and make breaking out of it too hard.
No. 1083821 ID: 8b8c72

Resist and terminate.
No. 1083858 ID: e05f49

Full power to thrusters, go up and leave her range. Swear there's a "mile high club" joke to be made...
No. 1083891 ID: eb0a9c

2) Play along. She wants to rape you - that's an opportunity to really let loose.
No. 1083894 ID: 6c2338

1]] Resist the illusion
No. 1084796 ID: 8928a2
File 170910182872.png - (875.36KB , 1280x900 , EQBalls.png )

For the briefest moment your guard dropped. It wouldn't be so bad to relax and just let this feeling continue. She obviously wants you, you can handle her. Unconsciously your hips push forward into the grip on your shaft. No wait what are you doing you idiot she’s-

Your mind filled with red as the sensations continued. Now the phantom hands were frantically jerking your manhood, grip firm. The pace seemed aggressive but you were already at full mast and incredibly aroused. You blinked, trying to clear your vision before the sensation became wetter, smoother as you felt soft ass cheeks descend on your lap. You were laying on your back and she'd shifted to grinding on you, facing away, the glow of her eye painting the ceiling red. You didn't know how long you'd been fucking her, but the steady pressure of an orgasm told you it had been some time.
"Zzzzzsssooo harrrd" she gasped, her hips bucking impulsively with her shuddering breath. You felt her thighs tensing with every thrust, her insides squeezed with an increasing pressure as her breathing became ragged, and she moaned with such wild abandon it was almost like a grunting shout. The orgasm suddenly hit her like a freight train, her body slamming down onto yours, her liquid-like muscles becoming solid as she tensed hard and her breath stopped short in her chest. She remained there for a long moment, before she shuddered again, and you felt the heat and wetness in your lap increase. You tried to lift your hands, to touchKILLher. She breathed out hard before she turned around, still enveloping you the entire time, and the light of her eye bore down on you again. Your ears rang and your mind only saw red. As the crimson haze lessened, you felt the sensations in your lap had become far more intense. Something was tied around your lower regions and the loose end was tickling, but you were focused on the urgent, rhythmic pumping of her mouth and throat over your shaft. Her tongue was wrapped around you, squeezing in time, writhing with a mind of its own. Drool was running down your length and re-uniting with the distant coils of her tongue around your balls. The wet sounds of desperation were driving you wild. You wanted to buck, you wanted to grabSTABher. The sensation was too intense but you wanted more. You were close and you wanted to explode forever so this feeling never ended. Suddenly, she pulled back and hesitated for a moment, before her eye flicked down and her mouth traced her tongue back down your length, seeming to reel it in like it was on a spool. When she finally reached your balls, she took one in her mouth, before revealing a savage grin of pointed teeth.
"You are tough, aren't you,” her voice said in your mind. You knew Occulotti but would have understood her all the same, "I think I'd have to really work to do anything that would hurt you, wouldn't I?"
"I want you to hurt me," you thought back, and she bit down, hard. A faint simmer of pain reached you through the haze. You were on the brink. She pulled away completely, and you moaned with grief.
"I can hurt you with more ways than pain," she purred, before descending again to deposit soft kisses along your length.
No. 1084803 ID: 8928a2
File 170910314411.png - (101.54KB , 900x600 , EQCannon.png )

All five feet of it.
Wait, what?

The cannon barrel bucked beneath her, catching her in the midsection before your fist collected her head. She flew like a discarded toy, tumbling limply through the air before her feet found the ground almost magnetically, her body stiffened as she slid to a halt on all fours. Her face whipped up to meet yours, and her eye was now contorted in hatred. Your guns were already up. She flickered and the last dozen rounds from your XM’s shredded the wall behind her. The only sound was casings clattering on the hardwood floor. She'd vanished.
“After all - that, I expected a bigger load from you, human.”
You thought she gasped slightly when she hesitated, and she sounded flustered.
“I've been having fun with your friends outside, I guess I'm a little spent after so many partners. I've lost track of how many I've killed. How many of you were there? Was it two thousand? More?”
“Speaking of, I can't help but notice you haven't called for them. What's your plan here?”
“I'm going to take my time carving you to pieces for what you just did to me, animal.”
The Occulotti curse translated poorly, but the venom in her voice got the point across.
“Was there another crazy cyclops bitch in here hypnotizing me while she rode my dick? That was all you.”
“Wh- no! You shackled me to your sick fantasy! Tell me how you did that. Answer truthfully or you die.”
That's it, keep talking you thought to yourself. Your sensors didn't detect any sound, so she must have been projecting a voice into your head. You swept the room, pretending to look wherever she threw her voice. Broken glass crunched under your feet.
“I don't know what to tell you Occ, you had me pretty dazed for all of that. I was not in control of what happened. Figured you were playing mind games while you got close enough to stick a blade in me. You won't get a second opportunity.”
You unsheathed both swords, slowing the extension to hit the resonant speed you'd practiced. The air was filled with the metallic hum of the blades.
“You're telling the truth.” She said bluntly, ignoring the tacit threat.
“I'm surprised you believe me.”
“You're still erect. What I believe is that you lacked the self-control to stop that depravity when you were so close to blowing. And you too had the opportunity to - stick a blade in me.” Another small gasp.
You glanced down without moving your head. You were indeed poking firmly out of your pants. Outside, you could hear several sets of feet slowly crossing the street towards your building. If they were trying to be sneaky, they were doing an awful job, so you assumed they were moving with caution. The Floater jamming was still weighing on your comms. She still hadn't tipped them off.

1]] Find a way to escape.

2]] Attack the assassin before the enemies outside find you.

3]] Keep talking. Riggs and Cotton should only be moments away.

4]] ___________________________________
No. 1084807 ID: b832e0

Well broken glass implies a window. For OpSec if she knows we're a borg we have to murder the one-eye. Here's a basic plan - grenade to low yield, drop it and full thrusters out the window. Her pals should believe we're a floater or otherwise be surprised enough to not shoot while we leave the blast radius.
No. 1084812 ID: 5ebe31

Keep talking and shooting the shit/shadows. Trading insults is a great way to gather intel.
No. 1085064 ID: 6c2338

3]] Keep talking. Riggs and Cotton should only be moments away.
No. 1085065 ID: eb0a9c

Remember that your greatest regret is that your penis is severely overcompensated.
So overcompensate. Make her taste your Big Boner until it kills her.
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