ARES:Gods of War

The Scouts

The Scouts, a favored unit for advanced reconnaissance deployed from the Ark, trudged through the rough terrain that was a massive swamp just beyond the limits of a ruined city on the Surface. They'd been testing the Sensor Station within the Outpost for the past day before they received a signal here, from a wounded Mass Production Nikke, as it seemed. Mass Production Nikke models were never supposed to openly be recovered if lost. They were mass-producible for a reason, but something compelled the shooter to go in and try and save her.

Pushing through the thick shrubs in a different outfit than her normal, sleeveless top, cammie shorts and boots, a young woman with short brown hair and the build of an athlete pushed through the water, her heavy-duty marksman rifle shouldered as she peered through the top-mounted red dot attachment that sat on the high-zoom scope. She checked her magazine almost compulsively every three minutes, peering into the opaque brown plastic to see if any rounds had magically disappeared.

She wore a longer-sleeved green camouflage gear set this time, with even her vest replaced by something to more-so fit the place, her rifle wrapped with OD Green tape to make sure it blended in as well. Her fingerless combat gloves screeched a bit as she gripped tightly into the form-fit plastic grip of the tactical DMR. Bringing her left hand back to her chest, she radioed, "SCOUT-2, this is One... Nearing target area..." as her helmet's HUD flashed with a navigation point.

"C-Copy..." The younger, shy member of the Scout team replied. She was using higher ground to traverse the place, due to her smaller stature, "SCOUT-2 is nearly in position as well. Radio contact with the Outpost is three-by-five, but I have confirmed status reports that all is in order... Alva Particles are also slightly heavier in this general area, so expect some of our coms to fail..."

"It'll have to do. Stand by for CASEVAC call... Thanks, Signal," She offered as she walked forward, the dirty, murky water below her stirring, rippling as she pushed through it. Her HUD soon picked up a friendly IFF dead ahead, on a rise of dirt, stone and greenery. Slinging her rifle onto her back and making sure the barrel pointed upward, the woman drew her sidearm, a tactical pistol, from its sealed holster and started climbing while peering through its red dot.

She saw the figure of the war machine Nikke. She missed a leg and half her arm. Her helmet had broken, a chunk missing near where her eye used to be. Her Machine Gun, a heavy-duty weapon, lay beside her, still working and stabilized on its bipod. The ammo backpack had been set aside, feeding tube snaking between the rocks behind the broken doll's cover. Expended casings surrounded her, some still warm.

A Product 12, her brownish armor melding with the dirt. She breathed heavily, a hole drilled square in the left of her chest plate seeping scarlet coolant onto the dirt. One of her lungs was collapsed. Her sole good eye and sensors were locked, gazing down the iron sights of the weapon, barrel barely cooling after sustained fire underneath the heat shroud.

The Sniper of the Scouts whistled, garnering the Doll's attention. Through the heavy panting, the girl coughed out an, "Delta..."

Delta, commander of the Scouts, crouched and slowly moved toward the Product, patting her on the shoulder and stating, "It's fine, Twelve-Oh-Niner. You'll live..." a lie as both knew, but a comforting one nonetheless. She asked her, "How many are we looking at...?" before lifting her rifle, extending the bipod and peering through the larger scope out into the treeline. She saw the half-sunken corpses of half-a-dozen Raptures of various sizes... And the corpses of a platoon of Mass Production patrol Nikkes... iDolls and Products, dead side by side.

"Ten platoOnS..." 12-09's vocoder glitched, pitch changing randomly. She scratched her throat and swallowed, wincing lightly in pain, before murmuring, "Damage hEAVY... WINCXCAHG..." The audible glitch echoed, making the Product 12 variation wince. Her mechanical heart seemed to sink as she spoke, voice low, "WINCHESTER Ammo... I'm not making it out of this whole, Delta..."