Transformers: Core protocols

Ch 2

The corridor leading to the briefing room was as stark and oppressive as the rest of the facility—narrow, dimly lit, and lined with heavy steel doors. The air was thick with the hum of machinery and the faint hiss of pressurized systems. As 621 walked, he passed a pair of engineers murmuring to each other about recent skirmishes near a Coral vein. They fell silent as he passed, their eyes quickly averting.

The briefing room was a stark, metallic chamber, illuminated by the harsh glow of overhead lights. The air was thick with tension as mercenaries from all walks of life sat silently in the rows of chairs, their faces a mixture of indifference and grim determination. At the front of the room stood a man in a worn, faded uniform, his presence commanding and cold. Behind him, a large holoscreen displayed the jagged, hostile terrain of Rubicon, interspersed with static images of combat mechs and destruction.

The man stepped forward, his boots echoing against the steel floor as he scanned the room. His expression was hard, etched with the experience of too many wars fought in the shadows of greed and ambition. His voice cut through the silence like a blade.

"You all think you're ready, don't you?" he began, his tone laced with disdain. "Every single one of you, sitting there in your fancy suits, thinking your Armored Cores make you invincible. Let me set the record straight: Rubicon doesn't care about your pride, your skill, or your reputation. I've seen your kind come and go—a hundred hounds sniffing for their next meal, chasing glory, fortune, or just a scrap of purpose. Most of them ended up as debris in the dirt."

The room remained silent, but a few mercenaries exchanged glances, their confidence shaken.

"This isn't some glorified battlefield with rules and honor," he continued, pacing in front of the screen. "This is Rubicon. No rules. No limits. You fight how you need to fight—ruthless, swift, and without hesitation. Bring the fire, bring the fury, or don't bother bringing yourself. Out there, hesitation is death."

He stopped, planting himself firmly in the center of the room, his piercing gaze sweeping across the audience. "This base may be neutral ground, a so-called 'sanctuary' where the corporations won't touch you. But don't mistake it for safety. The moment you step outside, you're fair game. The corporations don't care how you get the job done, so long as you do. And the enemies you'll face—whether it's other mercenaries, rebel factions, or... them—won't give you a second chance."

The holoscreen flickered, showing a grainy image of what appeared to be a Transformer in mid-transformation, its frame gleaming with alien power. The room tensed as murmurs rippled through the audience.

"These aren't just machines," the man said, gesturing at the image. "These things are monsters. They'll outthink you, outmaneuver you, and tear you apart if you let them. But in your Armored Cores, you might just stand a chance. Adapt, improvise, and most importantly—survive. Because nobody's coming to save you."

He took a long, deliberate pause, letting his words sink in. "Welcome to Rubicon, mercenaries. Now, go prove you're worth more than the scrap you'll leave behind."

The room remained silent as the man stepped back, his expression unreadable. The holoscreen shifted to logistical details about upcoming missions, but 621 barely noticed. He leaned back in his chair, absorbing the words like a quiet storm. He wasn't here for glory or wealth, his handler was. This entire base was neutral grounds for mercenaries to reside during their time on rubicon.

Chapter: The Job

The buzz of the briefing room still lingered as 621 made his way down a dimly lit corridor, the metallic hum of machinery vibrating through the floor beneath his boots. Neutral ground or not, the corporate base exuded the suffocating weight of industry. Walls of steel were lined with flickering monitors displaying mission readouts, patrol schedules, and the occasional propaganda reel. Mercenaries filed past, some with casual confidence, others clearly uneasy about their next deployment.