Miles

Month 18 Round 8

We walked out of the portal, and all around us were hundreds, if not thousands, of others leaving portals of their own. Some wielded magic circles that blazed around their arms, while others carried spears. Then, in a wreck of a building, a gigantic man bulldozed his way through before letting people out of his hand.

Taylor came to a stop next to me, and Sam climbed the back of my mech with hers and perched. Queenie already had her weapons warmed up and aimed at the alien army. It was an alien army with many landing craft impacting the ground every few seconds.

Nothing about the scene made any sense. The two armies were staring each other down, maybe a hundred meters apart. I could only assume that the leaders were Thanos and Captain America, who stood at the front.

"What's the plan?" I asked. This wasn't a fight we could wing.

"Queenie and Sam, guard us and take out the fodder. Miles, focus on the landers and aircraft. If you can destroy some ships before they land, great, otherwise hit whatever does the most damage. I'll hit the tanks and support any weakening areas. Keep together and don't stray!"

I focused in and locked onto the flying snakes, landers, and fighters. The simulated reality I inhabited proved its usefulness as the enemies were highlighted in red and allies in green. My targets acquired a spinning reticle with a handy tracking system that categorized priority targets. I assigned my plasma projector to fire on automatic and the same for the impeller missiles. Each with its own selection of targets. For now, I waited for the battle to start.

There was a decent number of glances our way from both sides, but the sheer number of different groups held anyone's hand. I felt a ping hit my system and redirected it at Taylor. Whatever it was, she hashed it out quickly.

"Stark, the man in gaudy red armor, is coordinating his system with ours. We will provide minor fire support." Taylor said.

I nodded my head at Taylor before repeating the action at Iron Man. For me, this battle may've happened on the big screen, but this was something else. The tension rolled off the gathered armies, and I could see the stress on Thanos' face. He had shot us a few looks, and I could see his confusion.

I reached up and scratched Sam's mech. A grateful chirp rang out, and I could feel the gratitude in our link.

"Avengers Assemble!"

Then both sides started screaming and charging at each other. Whatever their plan was, we didn't follow it. Instead, I activated my routine as Sam jumped down. Two missiles ejected from my shoulders before slamming into the grounded landers like a hand of God. Between the gravity sheer and a 5-kilo missile hitting at 30 kilometers per second, the armor plate on the lander caved in. Not enough to destroy it, but suffered severe deformation.

A line of plasma reached out and carved a flying snake in twain. The cyborg abomination stood no chance against the raw fury that my weapon projected. It lasted far under the projected time to destroy it, and my computer carved the line of plasma through the sky in a demented connect-the-dots.

Two more missiles popped out before I raised my pulser at my target. These two screamed off and hit the same landers. This time, the tower of a ship wobbled under its weight before falling across the enemy's battle lines.

Assorted plasma bolts and pulser darts streamed out of Queenie's and Sam's mechs. They stuck down every threat that closed in on us and occasionally hit low flyers. Taylor's plasma projector swept through enemy lines, vaporizing vast swaths of infantry.

I lined up my 80 mm pulser and fired a shot at Thanos right as Wanda engaged him. It tugged at my incredibility as he tripped out of the way as the hypersonic round blasted by him before detonating against the rubble. He didn't escape unharmed from the shower of shrapnel.

A second shot was about to fly at him when the ship above us unleashed its fire upon the battlefield. Sam immediately dove under my shield before the first shot landed. Queenie curled up into the smallest ball she could while her weapons continued to fire. Then there was Taylor. She was dodging shots with a combination of her gravity pack and skill.

A target appeared in my head from Taylor's mech as she slaved each of our mechs missile control to hers.

The four of us ripple fired our missiles in a constant stream that slammed into the ship's bridge. We couldn't fire them all at once without the impeller wedges intersecting and burning out. The gravity sheer pierced the shielding the mothership had but burnt out the wedge in the process. It still suffered a half-ton of TNT worth of energy slamming into every tenth of a second. Moments later, they crumpled in the armor and destroyed the bridge, but a glowing streak slammed through the ship, destroying it.

With the rain of energy bolts halted, the trio of us resumed our firing line. Taylor switched over to her molecular sword and was beelining for Thanos. She danced around the combatants with a grace that no mech should hold. Then, right as Thanos reached for the infinity gauntlet after knocking away Iron Man, she bisected him with a five-meter-long sword. The Mad Titan fell to the ground in two pieces.

I watched in mute fascination as Iron Man continued to reach for the infinity stones with the battle raging around us. He slid it on his hand, and right before he performed the Snap, we were back at the table.

ROLLING WITH 500CP

Hangar (Ace Combat) (100CP)

Planes are fine when they're going through the air and dealing with enemies. But leaving them to the elements and the outdoors when they're not in use? Well that just seems really crass. You need somewhere to store your vehicles and planes when you're not busy destroying anything that's not on your side, and that's what these establishments are for. It's not the most fancy thing in the world, but it'll serve its purpose and make sure your means for vehicular slaughter are in prime condition for their tasks. For an additional +50CP, these hangar bays also come equipped with special clamps and harnesses to make refitting and refueling any planes, go much more quickly than they would if you were using them by hand. For sea-based bases, this also means you have docks for boats and submarines.

Gives a WH attachment for planes, vehicles, boats, submarines. A very all encompassing storage space that keeps the vehicles stored in prime condition too.

The ninth battle stood no chance against us and took literally thirty seconds to plow through. While the dragon was nominally immune to plasma and the pulser darts for some odd reason, the impeller missiles once again came to the rescue. A triple strike against his scales broke through and pulped his innards. The 160-meter-long dragon died a pathetic, quick death.

Taylor, in particular, liked this fight as she recognized the dragon as Smaug from the lord of the rings books, and once again, we vanished before I could get a sample.

ROLLING WITH 700CP

Things best not known (Smash Up-Obligatory Cthulhu Supplement) (200CP)

You don't go mad from cosmic truths, but have a sense for when such secrets are dangerous to others. You are good at explaining things away besides. Best not to spread the madness around.

"Taylor, we have an urgent matter to discuss," I said to her in a severe voice.

"And what would that be?" She asked, and I could hear her eye-roll through closed eyes.

"We need to decide our Cape names!"

It wasn't a topic we broached before, mostly because it never seemed like we would win and escape soon. Now that we were in the last month, the slight issue suddenly wasn't anymore, and we needed a set of names instead of being assigned ones we didn't like.

"Oh, 'yay.'"

Taylor had a conflicted look on her face that shouted her displeasure about her previous names and the lack of control over picking them. She went out as Bug before being assigned the name Skitter. After that, Weaver and Khepri. I knew I preferred not to be named something stupid like Big Guy or Muscles.

"Yeah! I was thinking of Emperor and Empress, to be honest," I said.

"You do understand how bad that sounds, right?"

"And?"

We would be a pain in the ass to most groups, including the heroes, and they wouldn't hesitate to brand us as villains. Our bio-engineered companions already placed us on the shit list for the PRT, and it would be a cold day in hell before I surrendered Sam.

"Okay. I really don't care anymore, and it lets everyone know we're together. Civilian identities?" Taylor asked.

"There is no hiding my glory." I deadpanned, trying my best to contain my laughter.

"You sound like a prick."

"I have a crown, dammit!"

"So do I, and you don't see me bragging."

"It looks fantastic on you."

"I- ah- that changes nothing."

"So- my names are good?"

"Better than Bug or Skitter. I liked Weaver, but no bugs anymore."

"What do you think Empire 88 will do?"

"Be a little bitch, like always."

Miles

Month 20 Round 10

"SURVIVE!"

The command thundered across the battlefield. For the last three months, we've sunk eight hours a day into upgrading every component of our mechs. We added very little besides anti-personal/anti-missiles lasers. They dotted our mechs and could fire a constant stream if needed. This was the last battle, and we just needed to survive!

I felt the anticipation vibrate the air in waves, or that could be the gigantic drums I saw on the horizon. Now that I thought about it, it was the drums, and I felt a vast pit form in my chest. Terror gripped me as the inevitable sound hit me.

"WAAAAAAAAGH!"

A wall of sound slammed into us and induced a primal terror. I felt it not just from myself but from Taylor and Sam too! We rallied by pulling on the bond and immersed ourselves deep within the connection. This battle was going to be a horror show and a battle of attrition.

"We can do this," I said.

"We can do this!" This time, Taylor joined my call.

"WE CAN DO THIS!" Our entire group yelled just as the first enemy came into view.

"WAAAAAAAAGH!"

The enemy we had to survive against were Orks, a fungal-based creature that spread across the stars and lived for violence. Their genetic technologic memory and deep gestalt psychic might, combined to enable hulking monstrosities. These titans of scrap metal defied physics in their function and continued existence. Only the combined might of belief over an uncountable species allowed them to. These abominations are what we had to survive.

Smoke billowed out of smokestacks in thick black clouds. The smog hazed above the future battlefield, turning the sunny day dark and foreboding. The twenty-meter tall scrap pile towered over our mechs and bristled with weapons that shouldn't work. A chainsaw the size of my mech roared as the pilot swung it back and forth, occasionally catching an ork running by it.

Ten and fifteen meter long planes thundered overhead, circling our position. A wave of green surged across the horizon as far as I could see. Smaller vehicles lurched and sputtered as their weapon-laden bodies struggled under the heavy weight. The vehicles ranged from bikes to tanks, with everything in between, without rhyme or reason for their size.

Taylor painted a target on the lead mech shaped like a traffic cone with an ork head attached to the top. The location she designated was the power source our scanners pinpointed. Every weapon we had aimed at the mech. I didn't have to do anything as we fired well outside the effective range of the enemy, but within our missiles.

Eight staggered missiles crossed fifteen kilometers in a single second. Then, before they could slam into the mech, they hit a sickly green shield that sprung into existence. Each hit produced a tremendous light flare as electric arcs lashed out, vaporizing nearby orks. Lines of plasma followed, but the energy barely held together at this distance as it washed over the shield like a stream of water. Great eddies of blue plasma splashed along the ground, sterilizing it of anything living. Finally, after what felt like centuries, the pulser darts hit, going substantially slower but still delivering their powerful loads against the shield. It turned into a kaleidoscope from the damage.

Ripples of explosion dotted the oncoming line as they returned fire. But, for all the weapons they held, they were still inaccurate. Shells impacted kilometers short, blowing vast clouds of dirt into the sky or flying too high at such speed they wouldn't return.

Another wave of missiles lashed out ten seconds after the first, aimed at the same location. They slammed home, and the first two shattered the shield, but something caused the rest to deviate. Explosions covered the hulking mech. When the smoke dispersed, I could see crumpled swaths of armor, but it continued on, step after step.

"Retreat!" Taylor commanded, "Weapons free. Miles hit the aircraft."

I matched pace with Taylor's retreating mech while taking potshots at the now incoming planes. Unfortunately, most of my shots went wide as they made erratic movements on purpose or from shoddy controls. Nevertheless, missiles launched under Taylor's control and slammed into the advancing army.

A shockwave plastered me onto the ground as a lobbed shell connected with my shield. Warnings flashed as emitters strained from the single lucky hit. My sensors traced the shell back to the firer, and I saw the whole tank had exploded from firing it. Their stupidity knew no bounds!

We kept up the medium pace for some time. The horde slowly gained ground, but most heavier vehicles suffered terribly for it. Infantry and the lighter equipment continued to get caught in the crossfire, especially the plasma streams.

The planes have yet proved to be a danger as the laser pd (Point defense) detonated the many bombs and missiles launched at us. My pulser cannon made quick work of the flyers once within range. Nothing said deep penetration like 80 mm dart tipped with the hardest alloy we had. The explosives inside it just made the damage more permanent. Then I needed to dodge the falling planes as they tried to kamikaze us in their last moments.

"Halt!" Taylor said.

On the horizon of our retreat vector stood another towering mech, a foreboding message. I looked at it and ran through many options to take, and there weren't any good ones. If we tried to fly, we would just open up attack angles. If we held the ground in the center of the approaching armies, we would have the least amount of conflict before getting surrounded and, most likely, killed. That left the very last option. We charge the softened army and hope to devastate it before the other armies pinched us in.

At this point, we didn't even need to talk to share concepts. The mental bonds mainly were sufficient, and the simulated reality we inhabited took care of the rest. It also helped that none of us trash-talked during battle beside Queenie, and I had her muted for a reason. Instead, Taylor and I mostly grunted or made other sounds. We communicated at the speed of thought before turning around to face the softened army.

We charged at the top speed of our slowest mech (me), firing our weapons all the way. Thousands of shells returned towards us, most falling kilometers away, but few landed close. Some the size of cars plowed deep into the ground without exploding, while others detonated above ground, pinging shrapnel off our shields. I dodged to the side as a ball of plasma annihilated its way past before exploding in a cackling mushroom cloud. The shock wave knocked us to the ground, and I swore I saw a launching face in the cloud before it expanded far above.

The charge continued, and the individual faces of the orks came into view. They looked ecstatic about the coming fight without a care in the world that included the thousands of dead orks surrounding them. Their towering mechs shuddered under our assault and fell silent like the many before them, with large sections ripped open or shredded under the sustained bombardment.

"WAAAAAAAAGH!"

We met the Ork charge with our own. My pulser fired nonstop with every weapon my mech carried. The laser PDs killed orks with every shot, but the green tide rolled in, regardless.

Sam

I watched Miles burn through thousands of orks with a single plasma shot, but it made no difference in the number of attacking ones. His all-encompassing mind-glow was the thing of legends, along with his mate. Nothing in the history of Treecats came close to that intensity or power. Not even the reviled Honor Harrington was anything more than a candle to this bonfire, and I had the privilege to bond with him and help guide his potential. A potential that seeped down the connection and pushed me to new heights.

So I protected Miles while he took the brunt of the heavier attacks, and I kept the raging fungoids off his back, sometimes literally! A heavy shell slammed into my shield, forcing the system to switch off as it rapidly cooled the emitters. I swung my tail around with its molecular blade and sliced down dozens in a single swipe, spewing dark red blood into the air. The whole time missiles launched out of my two launchers, putting a dent in my rapidly diminishing supply.

Electricity shot through my head as it assigned a priority target to me. One of the large planes covered in bombs and missiles turned to collide with Miles, and it seemed to be impervious against the laser PD. So I swung my plasma cannon around and fired blots at the wing. One hit, then a third, and finally the fifth blew through and ripped the wing off. It spun out of control and slammed into the orks on the ground. The explosion deafened my sensors from the magnitude, and when they turned back on, the surviving orks were cheering.

An ork, larger than any other I had seen, stepped through the billowing fire caused by the plane and bellowed. After that, every ork joined in on the call as it charged my bonded's mate.

"WAAAAAAAAGH!"

Taylor

The massive ork stood the same height as my mech, and in its right hand laid a nasty-looking ax. It swung the abomination at me, and I just barely blocked it with my sword. I expected my sword to cut the ax in twain, but odd green energy insulated it. The myomers in my mech strained under the unnatural might as I took a step back to mitigate some pressure. I swung around my pulser cannon and fired right into the ork's gut.

A metal shield interposed itself faster than I could track, and the dart buried halfway through before exploding, ripping a chunk out but doing little else. I manually disabled my shield from covering the front; I was under no disillusion that one hit of that ax would burn out the emitters.

Smaller orks with glowing purple eyes pointed their staff at me, and a bolt of lightning took advantage of my now unshielded state. Unfortunately, whatever that was, it wasn't electricity, as my right arm slightly melted and systems flared red. However, I cared not as I slammed my sword down, this time going on the attack, before following it up with a pulser shot. My sword ripped into the ork's ax doing damage that the green energy couldn't stop before the dart blew through his shield. The giant ork took a step back from the damage, and that was the worst thing it could've done. I fired dart after dart into the mountain of an ork. Green flesh exploded over the battlefield, and we still had millions to go!

Queenie

Every step I took speared another ork with the tapered legs of my mech. Plasma flooded out in a continuous stream from the four different cannons mounted on my thorax and abdomen. The dark brown soil was no longer in sight as layers of ork bodies stacked up, and the air turned rancid from the disintegrated flesh.

This was fun at the start, but now it was just monotonous. I saw how the other shards always became upset with my casual swarms. Fighting unending enemies where no single death made a difference provided little data besides the need for a wide area of effect weapons.

An unending array of marks and divots were along my hull when my shield collapsed. I knew it would not rise again as critical damage hit my emitter when it collapsed last time. My beautiful mech was circling the drain, and the timer had already started. I tore that ork apart. The constant laughing as I did was most unnerving.

An explosion lurched my mech to the side as I felt a shell tear off a limb. It flew into the mob of orks that raised it above their heads as a trophy. I jumped out of the forming dog pile and landed next to my Taylor and her beautiful glow, Miles, with his blarg glow and stupid cat.

Lightning tore through my mech as more warnings, including a reactor breach, flared.

"Taylor, ejecting," I said as my pod blew out the top of my crippled mech.

We had planned for this, or Taylor and Miles had. My bonded and Miles mechs had three docks for our control pods and a tractor beam to pull them in. Said beam locked onto me and yanked me in before a secondary shield sprung up to protect me.

I watched as a plane crashed into Sam's mech and destroyed it. Her pod popped out, and Miles' mech caught it before any stray fire could. It had torn me between celebrating her mech's destruction and lamenting another source of violence gone. At least, she wouldn't be able to brag about surviving longer.

Miles

The latching of Sam's pod to my mech flooded me with relief after I watched that plane slam into her. She sent out a tread of comfort as I continued blasting orks left and right. My mech was taking tremendous punishment, and my shield kept falling every few seconds before it reformed. My armor that rivaled adamantine from Warhammer cracked and melted under the assault. The inertial compensator installed probably already saved my life several times. Having equipment that literally ate inertia was worth its weight in gold.

Another mech met its end under the constant missile barrage, but my supply was running dangerously bare. I originally had one thousand of them stored away, but twenty minutes of continuous battle whittled the number down to fifty. Everything I had on my mech groaned with how much stress the battle put on it.

Alerts flooded my head as new threats appeared. I looked up at the sky, and all I saw were missiles as far as I could see. Thousands of crude missiles aimed right at us, some bigger than our mechs and others larger than the walking piles of scrap. I glanced over at Taylor as she looked at me. In our heads, we waged war on who would be on top, but not in a fun way. It continued as we activated our jump packs and flew at the largest wreck.

I popped Sam's pod off my back and threw it at Taylor's mech. The automated system snatched it up and slotted it in. Taylor tried to dodge, but I wasn't having anything of it with my mech's arms wrapped tight around hers before we slammed deep with the pile of scrap. A quick subroutine had my shield fully engaged with the failsafe off.

"Open up. I'm coming over!" I said to Taylor.

I couldn't eject my pod that contained the cockpit because that also held the computer system. The stench of dead orks filled my nose as I crawled out. I plowed my way through the metal using my enhanced strength before crawling into Taylor's hatch. We did not design it for two people, but I contorted my way in and sat myself down behind her seat, legs wrapped around the base and my arms on her armrests.

"I thought you were going to sacrifice yourself," She said to me through the speakers, as she was still in the simulation.

"Why would I do that when I could go into your mech? Were you going to sacrifice yourself, Taylor?" She didn't answer, but I heard a grumble.

I wrapped my arms around her still form in the pitch black as the deep rumbles started. Each impact felt like a gut punch. I couldn't see anything with the fully enclosed cockpit, but that somehow worsened it. Sam was still there, so I didn't have to worry about her just yet. However, the missiles rained down nonstop, and I felt the mech flip over at least a few times. Then it came to a stop.

"CONGRATULATIONS ON SURVIVING!"

My face slammed into the ground, and I looked up. "What the fuck?"

ROLLING WITH 1000CP

Tinkerer (RWBY) (300CP)

You're a whiz at maintaining, modifying and making things. Everything from Sniper Scythes to Toaster Ovens, as long as you made it yourself or had the blueprints on hand. Unlock the secret of Variable Weapon Crafting.

ROLLING WITH 700CP

Inexhaustible QE Comm Link (Eclipse Phase) (100CP)

Two fingernail-sized Quantum Entanglement communication arrays. If each is installed in a separate device, those two devices can communicate instantaneously no matter the distance. Unlike standard QE comms in the setting, the qubits are not expended when information is transmitted. It has the bandwidth of a high-speed fibre optic connection.

ROLLING WITH 600CP

Crazed Physician (Van Helsing) (100CP)

Amongst the many sciences and paths you know, aside from the usual Ominous Cackling, you... Can actually patch people up easily. As a Crazed Physician, you can use the plainest tools on hand to mend any variety of wounds and injuries. As well, you know the human anatomy down to the last blood vessel, and can learn the anatomy of any other creature you dissect more easily.

ROLLING WITH 500CP

Robert the Builder (Invincible) (200CP)

You can seemingly build and organize anything with far less hassle and for greater results than most would experience. You are able to be the driving force behind projects large enough to affect entire countries or maybe even the world in its entirety. Somebody 'glassed' Las Vegas? Don't worry, you could lead a project to turn it into the world's largest and most efficient solar farm that can provide cheap electricity to Half of America. Some super villain messed with the tides the world over? You, with the help of some geniuses, would be able to successfully direct the building of a secondary artificial moon to set the tides to right. Truly, the sky itself isn't a limit.

ROLLING WITH 300CP

Resource Management (Empire from the Ashes) (100CP)

What can I say? You're an expert at logistics. You know how to extract the maximum possible use out of even the absolute least resources. A ragtag group of counter-mutineers managed to not only survive, but actually attack and make inroads into damaging an almost unimaginably better armed, equipped and numerous group. Just like them, you too can make virtually endless repairs, adapt low level-tech to interface with higher level tech, and in general stretch the usage of those resources far beyond what even the shrewdest economist could ever manage. Mind you, this is for people and tech most of all. While it will work on other resources, even magical, esoteric ones like mana and whatnot, don't expect remotely the same efficiency for them.

ROLLING WITH 200CP

Hellish Advancement (DOOM 3) (200CP)

The teleportation research in the Delta Labs is arguably the most advanced field of science known to mankind today. With potential applications in everything from aeronautics to personal transportation, both short-range and long-range teleporters represent one of the greatest advances in recent decades and the fact that they operate by tunneling through literal hell is hardly a detriment, is it? You are a master of using dimensional technologies, especially those relying on less than pleasant realms for their function. From dedicated safety systems to mapping the hellish wastelands of the damned 'by remote' to find the most efficient paths, if it involves alternate realities or physical embodiments of evil you've probably got some ideas on how to make use of your findings. Even better if it involves both.