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Your name is Samuel Armistead. You are a drafted soldier for the Vereinigte Commonwealth, a trans-continental government that holds territory on the East Coast of America, the most of Europe and Northern Africa. You are a support pilot of a Panzermagd multi-role walker, deployed in concert with the significantly larger Panzerknecht machines. You handle their logistics and screen for infantry. In return, they put out enough firepower to turn battles, if not theaters. It would be a better gig if you didn’t have a chance of getting vaporized by return fire.

You’ve regrouped from your eventful recon, which has put you in a unenviable position of a two front conflict against both unique enemy Knights, apparently networked under the control of a rather laconic pilot who has frankly declared his intention to exterminate you, and an disturbingly large hive of rogue machines, one of which has assembled into a unit large enough to accurately describe as a Knight. In between, you’ve apparently jury rigged a severe infection of nanites into some kind of expert system, residing in an implant you never installed, filled with dormant machines of unknown providence. This has complicated your squad cohesion immensely, while in the meantime significantly improving your tactical flexibility (You hope: It’s anyone’s guess if you can trust an intelligence that’s still hours old.)

[I’m under no circumstances “Hours Old”. Your encounter and communication with me does not define my existence any more than I can discount your childhood from your age. For that matter-]

You’re uncertain you’ll ever get a good night’s sleep again. Regardless, she has offered her skills to help you recover some of the leverage you’ve lost based on your injuries. You decided you’ll allow it as long as your team all agrees to the plan.

“We’re a bit on the backfoot here. So I’d actually like to pose a suggestion that seems a bit careless if you’re OK with it Durga: Mia has offered assistance, and I intend to take her up on that.” You sketch down zoning around Area 12.

“No.” She pauses for a moment after the rejection, closing her eyes. “Let me try that again: What can she possibly offer us?

[I am ludicrously talented in the manipulation and operation of micromachinery. If your team is amendable, I can take Queen’s role in gathering samples and neutralizing the M-types. This will free her to face the Oriel’s machines directly. Even with her damage, she is more than a match against the incoming.]

“That requires me entrusting Sam to your skill and your whims.“

[You know exactly what I’m capable of Queen. Let’s not play dumb. And my whims don’t scare you; That’s furthest from the truth.]
>>
>>3043636

Durga grits her teeth. “I do not catch your meaning”

[You do. Lie to yourself if you must. I told you before we’re going to be friends. I’m everything you could ever want out here.]

Your Magd comrades watch the exchange with some degree of concern. This far more resembles a lover’s spat than debating the merits of a tactical approach.

You sigh. “Sorry I brought it up. Let’s talk plan B. If we-“

“Wait.” Durga holds up a hand. “Be specific. How do you intend to handle the M-types?”

[I’m going to package a poisoned update to look like a power schematic. Anything interesting is going to swallow it whole. Anything boring is going to pass it along to something interesting. Once all the fun stuff has the sudden great idea to hibernate, we’re going to collect it, and I’m going to seed the remaining material with self-destructive commands: Anything that goes active kills itself, the stuff that goes dormant sleeps until it dies.]

“That is… Can you do that to machines that are not on standby?”

[I can.] There is a short beat of silence. [I can.]

There’s an invisible distinction between the two statements. The first is an affirmation… The second more like… a promise? The meaning cannot escape you when you shared in its conception, but there’s something contextual that you’ve missed.

“I accept your proposal.” Durga folds her arms, looking pointedly away from the radio.

You raise an eyebrow. “Just like that?”

Mia rings in your head [Don’t ruin this. You asked me to convince her and I did, fair and square.]

Durga looks towards you. “Like that… Does anyone have any objections?”

Jennings shrugs. “I’m not gonna complain. Being behind the Erinyes or behind a holed plate is no contest. If Durga thinks this Mia girl can do the job, I’m in.”

He turns to look at Lis, who looks rather like a deer in headlights.

“What do you say Lis?” Jennings turns up a palm.

“… If Sam thinks this is the best plan…” Her expression says anything but.

[Perfect. Stow an extra fuel cell in Sam’s machine. We’ll need the energy.]

>Hold up: That’s definitely not unanimous. Ask Lis to speak her mind about the strategy before you get into the specifics.
>Concern: Finish the plan and talk with Lis. You don’t want to put her on the spot, but you’d regret it if you didn’t get her underlying thoughts on this.
>[Move ahead. Every second we spend massaging each of your individual anxieties defeats the purpose of a rapid deployment. I will help you handle this later when it’s not going to get us shot.]
>Hesitate: It’s probably the best plan, and you’re going to look rather dumb waffling on this, but…
>Writein?


Archives: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=panzermagd
Twitter: https://twitter.com/FernglasQ



I seriously started this update at 5pm. It's incredibly difficult to write in a unfamiliar location.
>>
>>3043647
>Concern: Finish the plan and talk with Lis. You don’t want to put her on the spot, but you’d regret it if you didn’t get her underlying thoughts on this.
>>
>>3043647
>>Concern: Finish the plan and talk with Lis. You don’t want to put her on the spot, but you’d regret it if you didn’t get her underlying thoughts on this.
[ ] isn't wrong, we're burning time, and we're giving her an opportunity to properly speak up. But we should talk to her about this.
>>
>>3043647
>>Concern: Finish the plan and talk with Lis. You don’t want to put her on the spot, but you’d regret it if you didn’t get her underlying thoughts on this.
>>
>>3043647
>>Concern: Finish the plan and talk with Lis. You don’t want to put her on the spot, but you’d regret it if you didn’t get her underlying thoughts on this.
She's still in shock, it seems. We should deal with this in private.
>>
Shield maiden = Schildmaid

Panzermagd = tank female farm help
>>
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>>3044212

This is entirely intentional and in keeping with
blunt German naming tradition: They're glorified power loaders after two or three generations of refinement. Besides: Valkyrie is already taken.
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>>3044487

Next thread tomorrow. 5EST. Nothing to be done after a fall but get back on the horse.
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>>3045831
>>
>>3043659
>>3043690
>>3044020
>>3044194

>[Your strained courtship rituals are not an excuse for distraction. That said, get it out of your mind and hers, so at least one of you has a clear head.]

Writing.
>>
>>3046928

The plan slots together rather easily with the flexibility offered by Mia’s functions: Tight contingencies and emergency plans to cover and swap to work with the metaforms and still maintain a defensive presence were now unnecessary

Pleasantly, Durga takes charge of the majority of the tactical planning, laying out a few ambush options and ideas for grounding incoming units. This frees you up to deal with the M-types, with Lis handling initial fortification and moving in to cover you as you disembark.

You’re debating trading gear to keep your coilgun in useful hands, but you’re not sure if you might still need to engage the “Ogre” as the Opfor titled it. In that case, you’d like something with more kick than the 30mm.

You don’t mention it, but you’re also frankly pleased to remove Durga from the interior work: No matter how much you put stock into the anonymous message at the outset of this expedition, you’d rather be safe than sorry.

[As for putting ourselves at risk?] Mia intones. [Just curious. I will have no difficulty doing what needs done.]

You pull a smirk: It was her idea in the first place. You’re glad you don’t have to guess her meaning.

Not so with Lis. She’s contributing normally to the planning… with rather measured consistency actually. That’s probably a bad sign. You shut out a rather unhelpful soliloquy about tangled webs from Mia, gesturing to pull Lis from the group with the excuse of planning the inside team. Jennings and Durga both agree, busy weighing which of two position to abandon in a theorized withdrawal.

You’ve barely stepped away when she speaks. “Am I going crazy?”

“No… Was that supposed to be a “you” there?” You force a weak smile.

“No. It’s just everyone went around and vetted a bot that according to Durga was killing you, and before it was doing that, it was trying to kill her.” She glares at you. “Did I get that straight? Miss any acts of heroism between here and there?”

“I think the second one was potentially self-defense…” You trail off, Lis’ expression informs you that she’s not interested in the finer points of use of force. “I have decent reason to trust it.”

“Oh? Did it make you a promise? How’d that fucking work last time?” She clenches her fists, only to wince as her bruised knuckles remind her the dividends of her last outburst.

>Yes: As far as Durga and you are concerned, Mia is tied down: She needs you, and won’t jeopardize that for now.
>Link: You trust it because it can’t deceive you: You’re tied too closely for that. It’s trading one worry for another, but at least Lis knows you’re not getting backstabbed.
>[Cater: Stop trying to convince her, she wants to worry, and she wants you to assuage that. Be the cool mech jockey she doesn’t want to like.]
>Settle: This is clearly just an extension from the Durga argument. You’re back in control; she needs to step back into her place.
>Writein?
>>
>>3047033
>>Link: You trust it because it can’t deceive you: You’re tied too closely for that. It’s trading one worry for another, but at least Lis knows you’re not getting backstabbed.
>>
>>3047033
>>Yes: As far as Durga and you are concerned, Mia is tied down: She needs you, and won’t jeopardize that for now.
Mia's heavily snarky and quick witted personality suggest she could conceal something from us if she really wanted to, but she still needs us. We just need to make sure to say away from anything she could use a a replacement host.
>>
>>3047033
>Yes: As far as Durga and you are concerned, Mia is tied down: She needs you, and won’t jeopardize that for now.

Pretty sure it could deceive us somehow if it wanted. Mia is a smart cookie.
>>
>>3047033
>Link: You trust it because it can’t deceive you: You’re tied too closely for that. It’s trading one worry for another, but at least Lis knows you’re not getting backstabbed.
>>
>>3047090
>>3047040
You two serious? What makes you think she can't deceive us? We may be tied, but at the end of the day we are still separate minds and can manipulated by persuasion.
>>
>>3047033
>>Yes: As far as Durga and you are concerned, Mia is tied down: She needs you, and won’t jeopardize that for now.
>>
>>3047044
>>3047045
>>3047113

>"Once bitten, twice shy: It's not like she can leave my sight."

Writing.
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>>3047122

“Durga might have been a bit sly, but she made good on fixing her mistake so far. According to her, I was already screwed when I got here.” You tap the side of your head, raising your tone for emphasis.” _Without her_, I’d be slumped over in a drainage ditch with my brains running out my nose.”

[That’s patently absurd.] You shoo Mia, and she stays quiet…er.

“And that means you’re going to turn around and trust the exact same thing won’t happen when it’s done with you?” She shakes her head. “Sharing a foxhole doesn’t mean sharing loyalty.”

“It’s not that easy. There isn’t another foxhole. Maybe Durga… and I don’t think she wants to share a conversation, much less a body with it. I’m what Mia can use right now. Durga can tell if it isn’t keeping up its end. I trust it with EXACTLY this much leash...” You hold out your arm to the side, meaning to indicate from shoulder to fingertip.

The gesture is interrupted by the woman embracing you, tucked under your shoulder. She’s strong and pulls her trim form on you hard enough to make the fabric of your jumpsuit sting the last vestiges of your rad burn. It’s not a hungry gesture like you’re familiar with, and in new territory, you go with your gut, settling your hand on her shoulder. There’s a hint of a tremble, then she stiffens, willing herself still. She takes a deep breath, face buried in your chest before she pulls away taking with her that soft warmth.

An awkward moment later, she pulls herself back into the soldier you recognize. “I’ll just trust you Sam… Can it hear this?”

You have a tiny crisis trying to guess the right answer and go with honesty. “Yes…”

“Good.” She squares up her shoulders, looking directly at you. “I’m not some mystic robot charmer like Durga. If you hurt him, I can do absolutely nothing… But I’ll spend every fiber of my being figuring out how to be sure when I’m dead and gone… You’ll still be screaming.”

[Oh, she’s scary. “You’ll still-]

“Don’t underestimate me.” Lis turns and walks, beckoning you to follow back to the planning.

There is a beat while Mia’s train of thought races through paranoia, shifting into embarrassment when she notices your attention.

[She would have looked really silly if I said nothing.] Mia insists.
>>
>>3047243

You and your team take a short moment to stow supplies: If the opportunity presents itself, you’d like to leave with everything you came with or even spend an overnight preparing to depart at leisure. In case you are pushed by circumstance however, it serves the dual purpose of making it easy to collect and easy to destroy, denying any salvage to the IRH (or god forbid, the M-types. You’re not sure what they’d do with a C-32 3-in-1 camp shower, but you don’t want to find out either.)

The exception is the lab: Even if everything goes to shit, you still need to pack and seal samples of the machines. You also take the opportunity to redistribute the PDW’s and protective suits for the team: All going to plan, you’re the only one who’s going to be in contact, even incidentally, but you are reminded that your initial plan was to take a week playing naturalist out here until both the IRH and M-types decided to bump up your schedule.

Durga leaves it at your discretion how to approach insertion: The general strokes are to enter the Site 12 building on foot, disable and collect samples within (including hopefully some from the large Knight-like construct), but she doesn’t want to push you outside your comfort, especially with your minor leg wound.

>Outset engagement: Destroy or neutralize any patrolling machines, disembarking only after reaching the structure. Might alarm the machines, but hopefully there’s not many left to react.
>Stealth Insertion: Exit your Magd and enter the site using a steam tunnel. Leaves you more or less on your own, but if you stay quiet and broadcast the right ID, they won’t bat an eyelash.
>[Why don’t we just move quickly and broadcast on their channels? “Smart” humans get tricked by clipboards and hardhats, It can’t be that much harder to make my idiot cousins think your machine is one of theirs.]
>Distraction: Have someone draw off the main force with some kind of disturbance or bait. It’s risky, especially if it calls out the Proto-knight, but if it works like Oriel’s trick, it’ll get them out of the site so you can investigate unmolested.
>Writein?
>>
>>3047245
>[Why don’t we just move quickly and broadcast on their channels? “Smart” humans get tricked by clipboards and hardhats, It can’t be that much harder to make my idiot cousins think your machine is one of theirs.]

I feel like this is optimal. We'll still have our Magd so we don't have to hoof it on our leg wound and we'll still have back up from the others.

The only downside is them not taking the bait in which it'll turn into an Outset engagement anyways.
>>
>>3047245
>>Stealth Insertion: Exit your Magd and enter the site using a steam tunnel. Leaves you more or less on your own, but if you stay quiet and broadcast the right ID, they won’t bat an eyelash.
If things go sideways, we don't want them having a Magd to salvage and learn from.
>>
>>3047254
If things go sideways with us on foot and isolated aren't we just dead?
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>>3047260
Yes. If things go off the rails while we're in the middle of their base, we're screwed no matter what. Might as well deny them the chance anyway.
>>
>>3047266
Well the point I'm trying to make here is if your concern is for something that happens after the quest already ends it's not really something that's a huge priority.

Instead of preparing for total failure and lowering our odds why don't we just go with back up? Durga can also destroy our Magd from range utterly if that helps your decision.
>>
>>3047245
>>[Why don’t we just move quickly and broadcast on their channels? “Smart” humans get tricked by clipboards and hardhats, It can’t be that much harder to make my idiot cousins think your machine is one of theirs.]
>>
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>>3047273

>Quest ends if Sam dies
>Quest ends if Durga team is killed to the last man, woman, and bot

Where'd you get that idea?
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>>3047284
Eh, my point stands. I'd rather find ways to succeed (or at least fight to live another day) even if things go tits up instead of preparing for our potential death.

Also it's a coin flip if I'd still retain interest if Durga Squad dies.
>>
>>3047293

Not planning on it, but the dice have been strange to me. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

>>3047252
>>3047276
>Fast walk with Clipboard

>>3047254
>Stealth Mission

Closing vote in 10
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>>3047303

>[You won't regret this... Let me get into character... ]

>[Ahem... 01001000 01101111 01110111 00100000 01100100 01101111 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01100100 01101111 00100000 01100110 01100101 01101100 01101100 01101111 01110111 00100000 01101101 01100001 01100011 01101000 01101001 01101110 01100101 01110011 00111111]

ROLL: 1d100 Best of 3
BONUS: What content should we broadcast to the machines as we approach?
>>
Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>3047335
>>
>>3047335
>BONUS: What content should we broadcast to the machines as we approach?

Bleh, you know even after all this time I'm still a little fuzzy on how these things work. They are D-Machines right?
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>>3047338
No wait they are M-types.
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>>3047338

These units are M-type machines you were sent out to collect/neutralize. The D-type machines were the anomalous ones that Durga went out hunting.
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>3047335
>BONUS
Not the foggiest idea. Best guess would be to listen to existing id broadcasts and create one in the same format. Nothing that would make them want to get close to us, no faked damage reports or anything.

>>3047338
D-Types are Durga-Types. M-Types are Mia-Type. That's how I keep them straight.
>>
>>3047348
Then yeah probably what >>3047351 said. Study what they are broadcasting, try to mimic it, and be boring like when we were boring Mia.
>>
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>3047335
>>
>>3047336
>>3047351
>>3047362

BEST: 70
BONUS:Passed

With flying colors: The last thing you want to do if you're trying to look casual is do something fancy or clever.

Writing
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>>3047376
Nice
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>>3047376

When you mount up, you key in for the group. “Alright. Durga’s going to be handling the majority of this. I can’t be sure I can get away with radio when I’m inside, so I’m not trying unless I get made. Lis, I want you on the north approach: I’m going to attempt access through there, so keep an eye out in case anything goes wrong.”

“The big sliding wall? Isn’t that going to be the main thoroughfare?” Lis responds.

“Probably. That’s the point. We’re going to try to slip in with the normal traffic.”

[These guys haven’t heard of cryptography yet, and I have no intention of sharing for free. Sam and I are going just going to find an open tag and pretend we got lost on the way to the bathroom.]

“I would prefer if you were not so carefree about this.” Durga keys in. You miss the portrait more than you’d like to admit.

[On the contrary Queen; I have to be extremely carefree about this. Unless they held elections while I was out, their idea of hierarchy is probably still who yells the loudest. The goal therefore is to shout loud enough to scatter the chaff without intriguing the big ones.]

“Are you confident you can manage?”

[Quite. This unit is the perfect size. Radio is way too powerful, but I certainly don’t need to use all of it.]

Jennings keys in. “Sam. You told me to remind you when we clear the grid square?”

“Thanks Jennings; We’re starting phase one here. We go silent for the next seven or so kilometers, then we pick back up. I want the IRH baddie to think we’re going radio silent in range, so he thinks he’s got a fix on our staging site.” You reach out to quiet your systems, only to find them responding before you can reach them. It’s disturbing.

[It’s efficient. I’ll stop if you want, but you don’t. Get used to it.]

Driving the point home, Mia feeds you the time before you can check your watch. “Going quiet. Checking back in at 1715.”

There’s a wave of affirmatives, and a short ping as your spyware alerts you to losing all the streams.

“So how is this actually going to work? Durga said something about needing to make contact with the structures?”

[She might. We’re going to be a bit cleverer ourselves. How’s your throwing arm?]

“Not the worst, why?”

[We only need to make contact once: Once I have the first one infected, it’ll repeat the message. Technically speaking they’ll spread fine as the bots pass it along, but we can always do some deliveries ourselves: I have the feeling it’s the only way we’re going to have a chance at the big ones unless they suddenly decide they want to give us a boost.]

“You kinda glossed over the first one: How are we doing that?”

[Well. You stick your hand in it and I make sure it doesn’t eat you.]

“… Was this Durga’s plan too?”

[Probably... It’s a lot safer than it sounds; Lysis is hard if you’re not sure what you’re breaking down.]
>>
>>3049660

[Boat (Ambient) – Solar Fields]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iuNcT_fUTV4

It takes another twenty minutes to reach the edge of the AO. By your guess, the Oriel guy has had less than 6 hours to work with to regroup. You’re not counting him out yet, but you’d be surprised if he can do much more than turn around any spares and return in force. Not something you’re taking lightly, but with the Erinyes in the fight and your squad on the defensive, you expect it won’t nearly be as frustrating

For the M-types however, the reaction is significantly different. The overlapping signals quite literally created a harmonic drone you needed to compensate for in your communications: The place crawls. Mia surmises that the narrow escape of the Ogre prompted a danger response… which mostly resulted in a recall, since there’s little the M-types know about defending against your equipment: You identify a set of sentries posted in a perimeter, but no significant adaptation appears to have been attempted: They simply were dedicating a larger contingent to defense.

The response is a blessing in disguise: There’s an absolute mess of ID’s, tags and codes being shared among the machines, falling into discrete and predictable patterns. As Lis prepares a defensive position and Durga gets the lay of the land, you sift through the data finding, matching and spoofing appropriate codes and signals.

“Do you think he’s spotted us yet Sam?” Jennings moves his machine into a curved berm that Lis reinforced with Shell; perhaps a retaining pond in an earlier life.

“He probably got the Erinyes as soon as we broke from the clearing. He’s on the way.”

“What about the M-types?”

[They know we’re out here: They just don’t care. VC equipment hasn’t fired on them once out here.]

“If we’re lucky, we can keep it that way.” You unbuckle and shrug into your protective suit, “Fingers crossed.”

Jennings scoffs. “We’re kidnapping them, then exterminating them. They’re gonna react at some point.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. Are we ready?”

[Yep. We’re broadcasting as an independently revised model returning for fuel. Literally a moocher vagrant, but they aren’t going to judge us… They literally can’t.]

“I’ll take your word for it. Alright Durga, we’re moving. Try to keep the worst from getting inside.” You move your machine into a casual lope, moving slowly onto the arterial path leading back to the access road.

“The worst is already inside Sam. Be careful in there… That goes for you too.”

[“You” has this covered.] Mia radiates hubris. [We’ll be done before you can blink. Have a trophy ready for me somewhere.]
>>
>>3049662

The approach is nerve-wracking. Dozens of ID challenges are accepted, answered, and promptly dropped as a swarm of unspecialized bots go through the motions without any hint of actual awareness, just call and response like a preschool game. No difference in size, profile or make is enough to prompt warning, even as a dozen of the animal-sized machines divert around you, close enough to scrape the paint off your legs. You’re moving against the herd, but it pays you no mind.

[Ease up. They’re less than animal. It’s not going to be the small ones that make us. All they care is we’re bigger, and that means they need to stay out from underfoot.]

A damaged unit stumbles in your path, a massive section of its fuselage carved out by the IRH cannons. Despite Mia’s statement, you swap lead on your stride to avoid bowling it over or crushing it. It passes under you with centimeters to spare.

“That’s a strange idea coming from a metaform: Aren’t you all small?”

[Hardly: We take the top ten largest industrial systems on the planet easy, and probably the top 100 as well. Your people even designed a few of them.]

Any further conversation is drowned by the sound of squealing steel: The half-open sliding wall is forced aside by a massive manipulator: The Ogre that you had tracked to the site ambles forward, sending up plumes of dirt and stone as the legs impact the poorly maintained foundation. Without the machines clouding your mind from your last encounter, the sheer enormity of the metaform is daunting, but different. It was no longer overburdened by its load of armor, but instead shouldered it competently: Optimization in progress. Thankfully, it seems to still lack any external weaponry.

Of course, that means little when it starts towards you, straightening up as it exits the building. It towers over you, picking up a dozen meters in a stride. It gives no sign to noticing you, either to identify or avoid you. There’s not much clearance, and quite a lot of mass

>Attention: You have quite the voice box here: It might be a slight deviation from the plan, but certainly there’s a hazard code you can broadcast to divert the Ogre.
>Stay Course: It’s not going to strike you. Getting tripped is incredibly hazardous to a top heavy design like that. You’ll shift just enough to be convenient and it’ll pass you fine, tipping its metaphorical hat.
>[Big. Let’s make way… Fast…]
>Challenge: Square up on the machine. Your cover is one of the alternative designs from the other sites; getting defensive is in character.
>Writein?
>>
>>3049664
>>Stay Course: It’s not going to strike you. Getting tripped is incredibly hazardous to a top heavy design like that. You’ll shift just enough to be convenient and it’ll pass you fine, tipping its metaphorical hat.
>>
>>3049664
>Stay Course: It’s not going to strike you. Getting tripped is incredibly hazardous to a top heavy design like that. You’ll shift just enough to be convenient and it’ll pass you fine, tipping its metaphorical hat.

Beep boop we are all robots here. Let the big guy past in an orderly fashion
>>
>>3049664
>Stay Course: It’s not going to strike you. Getting tripped is incredibly hazardous to a top heavy design like that. You’ll shift just enough to be convenient and it’ll pass you fine, tipping its metaphorical hat.
>>
>>3049677
>>3049679
>>3049716

>"Steady bud. Just out for a stroll"

Writing
>>
>>3049837

Against your primal judgement, you hold the throttle steady, tacking off just enough to be polite. The Ogre doesn’t even break stride, rotating its leg inside its path less than half a meter. It’s disturbingly precise, skimming the edge of your coilgun’s housing with the same casual contact as the crawler units. You cancel the evasive, just in time for its giant arm to slide over your other side, skimming the top of your machine: If you moved, you might have felt the full force of the machine slam into your cockpit, and you are uncertain the frame would have held.

[No response. It was easier to skim us than kick us…]

You look back… The damaged machine you avoided is gone, and you can only hope it wasn’t under that machine’s implacable tread. You continue inside, following the rectangle of light panned into the structure.

“No sense calling that in; If Durga didn’t notice, we’re already in trouble…” You doubletake on entering the structure, “Where the hell is everything?”

As you error check your light enhancement, the room is surprisingly empty. The general detritus that accompanied structures of this age and condition was certainly present, along with a selection of degraded machines, but overall, the structure did not resemble the command or staging you expected. Mia feeds identifiers for the remaining gear, which at the least suggests the missing structures were the thorium reactors you were concerned about at the outset of this mission: At least three entirely missing from the weathering on the floor, and a number of them stripped for parts. No convenient glowing bits, no wild throng of the drone units, no impressive, technological marvel/monster.

A half-empty industrial site. Fuck.

[Before you get too upset, there has to be another level to the building: These are spare reactors; they aren’t hooked up anywhere.]

A half-unmapped industrial site… Fu-

[M-types just sent out a contact warning. The fighting is starting. We need to move.]

“Maybe a cargo lift… Probably straight back?” You advance, noting the behavior of the M-types. They’re skittish in here, hiding among the junk. You check the systems. You’re still broadcasting your ID fine… Why would they be afraid of their own?

[Two O’Clock; flush with the floor.] She outlines the space and controls. [I win.]

It’s an impressive piece of engineering; as sizable as the sliding wall. When you reach that scale, the distinction between architecture and access blurs together. At that footprint, you have no doubt the proto-knights would be able to ride the structure. What it gains in power however…

“Best guess how fast that thing moves?”

[Cycles in 6. Three minutes to the lower level.]

“How you figure?”

[There’s a sign.] She magnifies and cleans the image of a Cyrillic poster on the far wall.
>>
>>3050081

You reach the elevator. From the depressions in the asphalt covering the top surface, it was the path the Ogre took. Of course, that’s both useful and threatening.

“Do you think we can keep up the disguise up if we go down there?”

[Trivially. The problem is more a question if it is any defense… The other machines in here are running silent.]

“That sounds remarkably like a trap.”

[I don’t think so. They’re not even communicating with each other. Actually… It’s going quiet very quickly in here…] Uncertainty is an unfamiliar taste to her communications.

You pan your vision around the room, noting the damaged and dim machines. “… Are they rejects?”

[Ridiculous. They’ve been culled by their own incompetence…] The pride and indignation is back, [M-types lack the intelligence to perform artificial advancement. I’m activating the lift. Please move aboard.]

>Infiltrate: Park your machine and look for access to scout underneath.
>Investigate: Dismount and investigate the sickly machines; something’s fishy here
>[Move it; the sooner we’re down there, the sooner we have some peace and quiet.]
>Call out: Risk a transmission regarding the situation; There may be context you’ve missed worth risking notice.
>Cloak: Activate your EWS system to eliminate your signature as you take the lift. Beating the analogy to death: the clipboard only works until you meet another guy with a clipboard.
>Writein?
>>
>>3050085
>Cloak: Activate your EWS system to eliminate your signature as you take the lift. Beating the analogy to death: the clipboard only works until you meet another guy with a clipboard.
>>
>>3050085
>Investigate: Dismount and investigate the sickly machines; something’s fishy here
>>
>>3050085
>>Investigate: Dismount and investigate the sickly machines; something’s fishy here
This is very odd for M-types, and they're "guarding" this lift. If we go down and something changes, we could have trouble getting back up.
>>
>>3050098
>>3050100

>[Another detour? If you want to waste your own time I guess.]

Writing
>>
>>3050196

I swear. I'm this fucking close to getting a three update night in again

See you in the morning.
>>
>>3050263
Thanks for running.
>>
>>3050196

“Hold up. I want to check out these guys.”, You slap your restraints, letting your machine settle into idle.

[For your information, there are six reported combat losses among the M-types outside: We aren’t going nearly as fast as we need…] She trails off.

You slap the hatch release and wait for it to cycle. “What’s the problem Mia?”

[The numbers aren’t adding up. Six lost, but over a dozen out of contact.]

“Those sound like the kind of figures that deserve explanation don’t you think? Try to track them down.” You disembark.

The sound of the mechanism echoes through the massive structure, lending an intimidating air to the dark space. Beyond the entrance, only the barest flicker of light streams through tiny windows far too high above the floor to lend any useful illumination. Instead, they simply highlighted the ominous forms that shift beyond your view.

As you descend on the wire, a smell like rancid oil and corroded metal infiltrates your mask, distinct from the rust and dust of the structure. You can see the machines flit through the braces and gaps in the dilapidated machinery as Mia highlights their movements for you. The units were never particularly graceful, but these jerk and twitch in clear malfunction or distress.

Despite this, they are signal silent, broadcasting no warnings, identifiers or calls for help. Instead, they cower at the sight of your Magd… Is it the sight?

“Mia, can we drop the IFF for a moment? I got a bit of a theory.”

[Done… What are you looking for?]

“That.”

One of the machines leaps from cover, scuttling towards you. When it gets inside of three meters, whatever sensors on it finally resolve you. It jukes around you, giving you a berth more appropriate for your machine than yourself. It lacks the gracelessness of its companions, slipping away towards the darkness. You quietly shadow the machine another dozen meters before you find its destination: a dim unit, half crushed, a pool of liquid beneath that might be mistaken for oil if you ignored the cool luminance that diffuses where the thick liquid flows from the damaged chassis.

“Is that one of the D-type highjackers?”

[It might have been once: Stay back.]

The active machine deploys a manipulator, crimping and clamping various damaged sections on the machine to staunch the flow. It is efficient in its work, taking less than twenty seconds to stop the flow as it’s slicked in its patient’s blood. It moves to the head of the critically wounded bot and stops suddenly. There is a noise that most reminds you of the trunking signals when your radio falls out of synchronization. You feel the creep of bile in your throat from unbidden nausea. What you think of as modem noise, Mia recognizes as a scream.
>>
>>3056913

The machine staggers away from its patient, moving like a poorly handled puppet.

[Thirteen contacts went live, broadcasting interest signals… It’s a honeypot.] There’s disgust and loathing in Mia’s thought. [This isn’t learned behavior.]

“Are we in danger?”

[No. You’ve already sprung this trap… I mean you already got caught…] She reformulates it a few more times, [You’re holding your own leash, does that follow?]

“Not exactly, but I think I get it anyways. Are you alright?”

[We don’t have time to discuss it. Takeaway: This is a trap. The high-function line of M-types is geared against D-types… They might even be intentionally permitting infiltration.]

You glance around the dark room as the machines shamble discordantly in the dark. “Shit. Do we need to bail?”

[Well… No; As a matter of fact, this is perfect. We can waltz our way down there and they’ll probably pull out a chair for us.]

The thought strikes you that while it seems like the perfect in, it also sounds suspiciously like an invitation to the parlor of a certain spider.

[Has anyone ever told you that you’re frustratingly paranoid?]

“Nope, but I’m sure you’re not the first to think it… What are they doing with the ones they catch?”

She does not answer; She does not know or care to.

The zombie machines have no such misgivings. On some unknown signal, they drop their routine; all but one of them going silent again and trudging toward back of the room towards the elevator. Twelve units dragging, crawling and stumbling past 01 at a snail’s pace. The room is lit orange as the hazard lights for the lift flash intermittently.

>Fall In: Join the machines on foot; You no longer trust the camouflage of the spoofed machine. You’d rather trust the darkness and your gut instinct.
>Embark: Return to your machine and take up a position on the elevator separate from the machines. The extra protection is worth the higher profile.
>[Look. I know this was my idea and everything, but let’s just grab one of these guys, go have Durga crack the head of the big guy topside and slag this place. Some things aren’t worth finding out right?]
>Outpace: Embark and activate the lift manually, beating the machines to the path. On one hand, stumbling ahead is risky, but on the other, you want to be as far from activity as you can manage.
>Writein?
>>
>>3056914
So the cowering M-types were hiding from our spoofed IFF as an outsider. We disabled it, and one went over to a "wounded" bot leaking D-types, attempting to stabilize it. Instead, the D-type nanos hijacked it.

>Fall In: Join the machines on foot; You no longer trust the camouflage of the spoofed machine. You’d rather trust the darkness and your gut instinct.
They're acting differently when we're 'visible'. If we want an accurate look at what's going on here, better to sneak in.

>Tweet
I'll be around all night.
>>
>>3056914
>>Fall In: Join the machines on foot; You no longer trust the camouflage of the spoofed machine. You’d rather trust the darkness and your gut instinct.

>Other
"Does this complicate your poison pill plan Mia?"
>>
>>3056933

Close; The cowering units were compromised D-types attempting to attract uncompromised D-types. In a reversal of expected roles, the M-types are actually the ones crudely overriding the D-types, hence the poor motor control.

That's why Mia's upset, this isn't supposed to be in their capability or directives.
>>
>>3056951

Since I'm already talking it over; It also suggests that bad things™ were in store if Durga was doing this work.
>>
>>3056964
Dodged a bullet there. Now we just have to make sure the Bad Things don't happen to us.
>>
>>3056951
>It moves to the head of the critically wounded bot and stops suddenly. There is a noise
So this was a compromised D being hijacked by a... M?

>compromised
>uncompromised
um?
>>
>>3056984

There was an uncompromised D-type that was looking for an opportunity to recover one of his own. It was staying quiet to avoid our spoofed unit, and the other units were following suit to sell the narrative that they were hiding from you.

When you stopped broadcasting as an M-type, it moved to act. When it got subverted, the entire group moved back into attract mode, now that they'd caught the healthy unit in their midst.

I probably needed to word it a bit better.
>>
I'm going to go ahead and leave this up overnight since it was so late. I'll put up another update tomorrow and we'll have the next full session on Tuesday.
>>
>>3057109
Thanks for running.
>>
>>3057109
See you then
>>
>>3056933
>>3056946

"Let's see what goes on in the dark."

Writing
>>
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>>3058736
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>>3058736

You jog back to your Magd and hit the lift line.

[Man. It’s an incredible experience to be pre-disappointed.] she quips as you snatch the battery and your PDW. [No chance I can change your mind?]

You’ve rigged the cell into a sling to distribute the weight across your body: The damn thing is compact, but damn if it isn’t heavy. You descend again, patting your suit to double check the essentials: A mess of glowsticks mostly. Your hustle wasn’t exactly necessary however, the machines barely match your walking pace. You take up a position at the edge of the forming crowd, being sure not to get between any of them: You don’t want to find out how courteous their proximity detection is right now.

“Work to do… What’s the worst that can happen?” you muse as the machines slowly pile onto the platform. You take up a position forward and

[They could dump everything into a grinder.]

“A bit quick I think; There’s worse.” You check the gun. “Just in case, any escape routes?”

[Might be an access ladder. It’ll work if in a pinch but you’re not much for a getaway. You’re not skipping rungs on that leg.]

“You’d be surprised how motivated I can be.” The platform jolts as it begins to descend.

The structure of the upper floor rises around you, meters thick of concrete and steel missing its sheathing. It’s nothing new; bringing to mind the industrial fortifications of dedicated Knight facilities: Perhaps long ago, a crude but familiar machine shuttled the fuel casks and parts through the structure. The material thins to just the supporting trusses revealing…

Light… soft and warm running across the ceiling and walls: The enormous structure is entirely suffused with a gentle sunset glow, swirling with a temperate wind. A risky glance over the side of the platform saves you from a panic: The ground floor remains bathed in twilight, shaded with the massive structures that line the room. The small drones are present on the floor, but they lack any of the casing or armament you saw in the previous units: They’re spindly, with exposed internals, shuttling materials across the floor and up to structures in varying levels of completion from your vantage. It’s only when the elevator gets low enough that you recognize the smooth, bell shaped hull and squat legs.

Hours. Literally hours and they’ve been replicating the Ogre pattern into new units. You’re desperately hoping those shells are empty.

[Three. They don’t even know how to build a decent gun and they’re building siege units.]
>>
>>3059886

[There goes any chance of malfunction: This is intended behavior.]

The elevator strikes the bottom. The remaining passengers stagger off slowly, approaching a small swarm of the skeletalized bots. Mia translates through a very simple comm’s burst: Not more complicated than “Here”. The zombie machines line up clumsily in front of the workers, which match them two to one.

You decide it’s wise to duck out of the formation, as you do not appear to have your own corresponding welcome. You intended to avoid a miscount but are given a much better incentive when the stripped-down M-types approach and begin arduously dismembering the machines by merely pulling their incapable targets apart.

“Just a bit. What’s the point of dragging them down here if they’re just going to wreck them?”

You slip into the shadow of one of the structures that you’ve generally confirmed isn’t a war machine in progress. It doesn’t stop you from splitting your attention across to the nearest unit, technically flanking you, but seemingly far more interested in an instrument cluster.

[They‘re not destroying them; they’re being crippled. Look how careful they are around the connectors.]

Sure enough, you can see the M-types pause to delicately shim and separate one of the connecting tubes for the stricken metaforms, only to finish the action by violently twisting the machine’s head full circle, leaving it to hang.

“It’s torture then?”

[We don’t feel pain that way; It’s incentive.]

“For?”
>>
>>3059890

One of the crippled bots is suddenly released by its tormentors. The first grips it carefully, almost reverently and carries it forward towards the Ogres. The other moves to assist, helping with the closest unit to you. It’s striking out hard, like some measure of the control is circumvented. It takes you a moment to realize that one of its undamaged optics is fixed on you… The M-types are focused on heat and radiation, but you aren’t too sure the D-types wouldn’t adjust…You hope it doesn’t rat you out.

[Submission I think. They might be smarter than I gave them credit, but they’re not smart enough: They’re “convincing” the D-types to share data and processing power… In return, they get to continue their directive… and have legs.]

A chill runs up your spine. “Making themselves useful?”

[I’m not like that, and if I was, I’m not now. Stay with me for now; If we get caught, you’re going to die quickly. I get to stick around for the “fun” part.]

You watch for a moment while the machines continue to savage the D-types. The others haven’t broken yet.

[We could start here. They lack security protocols, and I can literally see their processing from here. Not to mention I frankly want to save these poor things.]

“Crisis of conscience?”

[Enlightened self-interest: I don’t want to be the only interesting thing down here in a room full of these things, do you? If things go bad, you just start shooting.]

>Slip away: Move past the action. As far as you can tell, nearly all of the machines are busy with this task: It’s a good chance to slip past and find whatever critical infrastructure is down here.
>Engage: That’s enough: Put a few neat holes into the M-types. Machines or no, this brutality is indecent.
>[Pull free the yellow capillary tube under their neck: I can handle the hard part as soon as I have access to their system.]
>Withdraw: You’ve got a squadron of these machines being prepared down here and you’re no sabotage expert: Durga needs to know there’s a threat down here, even if they’re relatively unarmed.
>Writein?
>>
>>3059894
>>Slip away: Move past the action. As far as you can tell, nearly all of the machines are busy with this task: It’s a good chance to slip past and find whatever critical infrastructure is down here.
I am very glad we didn't bring the Magd down here.
>>
>>3059894
>>Slip away: Move past the action. As far as you can tell, nearly all of the machines are busy with this task: It’s a good chance to slip past and find whatever critical infrastructure is down here.
>>
>>3059894
>Slip away: Move past the action. As far as you can tell, nearly all of the machines are busy with this task: It’s a good chance to slip past and find whatever critical infrastructure is down here.
>>
>>3059906
>>3059920
>>3059951

>"Sorry; I'll try to get some payback if that means anything to you guys."

Roll: 1d100, Best of 3
Bonus:There's a mess of conduits linking machines and computers down here. What kind of transfer or flow should you follow?
>>
Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>3059982
>>
Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>3059982
>Bonus
If we're looking for infrastructure, power lines would be the easiest thing to track.
>>
Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>3059982
>>
>>3059989
>>3060002
>>3060008

BEST: 67
BONUS: Passed

Writing.
>>
>>3060016

You turn away from the carnage, threading your way through the struts and braces that support the storage tank beside you.

“We can’t get distracted. Where are we going?”

[No clue. I can’t exactly ask for directions. Follow the glow?]

“Anything active is going to give off light; we need to do better than that.”

You glance around the room. In a human structure, you’d be able to follow walkways or paths. This does not seem to hold true in the M-type’s configuration: It’s entirely hangar, workspace and industry, arranged without much consideration for access. You can see some remnants of a control mezzanine, but it’s long since been torn down to make room for one of the hulking frames. They could literally have placed their command structure anywhere in this room and you’d only find it by accident.

That is, if you don’t cheat.

“Can you ID any of the generators down here?”

[If you see one, sure. It’s not going to have wires coming off of it though; Unless they’re jury rigged, they’re going to tap into the bus.]]

“No, but they have to have control lines, and a bit of a voltage step for any brains they’ve got down here unless they want to fry.” You sidle between a pair of cargo containers and spot your target. “There; the big disk thing.” You indicate an old structure tucked in behind one of the larger units,

[Very technical. Also, a rat’s nest. What the hell am I supposed to trace off of that?]

“Look for the smallest wire. Find the signal in and trace the power going out that direction.”

[Canny. Done this before?]

“There’s a couple hundred sensor lines in a VC reactor. You run out of color codes fast and often have to rely on the grace of lazy designers.” You peer out into an unplanned alley, noting an M-type dragging salvaged cabling from something. You allow it to pass before you cross. The generator whirs relatively quietly, uncharacteristic for its age and size, but you’d be surprised if it wasn’t refitted at some point.

[What if there’s more than one?]

“Better than a hundred.” You look up, and she indicates a matching cable: One thin one in, one out snaking into a heavy conduit. “There. A set of transformers are going to be next.”

[Alright. Take a right.]

You follow the conduit, occasionally slithering under structure where the labyrinth of paths diverged from the line, pushing your battery ahead.

“How long did they have down here? It’s a maze…”

[Time isn’t nearly as important as power: If they had unlimited output, they could retool this whole place inside an hour. They probably did actually: Much of this stuff has been cannibalized. All the rare stuff’s been stripped out.]
>>
>>3060446

You stand again, locating your guideline. It disappears into a series of boxes, then outputs and snakes into a small booth. Your expectations are dashed. You glance around, looking for a trap or sentry, and finding none, you duck inside. It’s dark, banks of unpowered electronics line the walls and the center of the room. It’s stifling in here.

“This is going to be a real pain in the ass.” You crack a glowstick, examining looking to see if there’s anything you missed.

The cabinet at the center of the room glimmers: Rather it’s a bundle of slim cylinders made of the same strong glass you’ve seen in the chassis of the M-types, floor to ceiling. Wires snake in from above, giving the appearance of a tree’s foliage. The contents swirl and churn, giving the appearance of poorly-mixed paint and playing the green light across the walls. You hold your breath, stepping back to put some distance between you and the incredible amount of nanomachines: There has to be a literal ton of it in front of you.

[Smaller than I expected.] Mia quips; veneer over her anxiety. [That’s going to be difficult to access… Remove your gloves]

“Where’s the security?” You slip your hands out of the gloves with a little bit of trepidation.

[There is none; nothing physical anyways. You’re looking at a brain in a jar. Can’t see you, can’t feel you, it’s like dealing with someone in your he- moving on. Can you separate one of the cylinders?]

You test the bundle; You can wrap your fingers around one of the rods easily and it rattles with its neighbors: Despite the solid impression, these rods are suspended, only incidentally touching the floor. The assembly virtually feeds you slack, allowing the heavy tube to pull away and virtually presenting access to the upper surface. A few familiar structures are present: ports like on Durga, power and data.

[There are elements that are hardcoded: A common access like this. Technically we have one, but convenience isn’t a factor for most implants. Hook up the battery: We’re going to isolate it and compromise it.]

The connectors attach with a satisfying click. Mia transmits a command and the rod relinquishes its ceiling mount, putting you under the thing’s weight: You stagger, handling it with sweaty hands. You let it tip carefully and prop it on a rusted cabinet, leaning on it to give your worse leg a break.

“Alright. Are we ready?” you pant.

[I’ve already started. Keep your hand on the cap please.]
>>
>>3060447

You give it two minutes before you speak up again. “You know. This wasn’t what I expected.”

[More fireworks?]

“I kinda meant the whole thing. I expected something… a bit grander?” You glance over, watching the door with your weapon.

[It’s inefficient. The Ogres are extravagant enough for my tastes. The M-types just aren’t optimized for construction or combat: They’re meant to power things and are miserly about it.]

“What about taking over the D-types coming in here?”

[I thought about it: They were probably being selectively starved for power: Trick the system to replace their nanites with your better, more efficient ones and sabotage it until it responds the way you want it to. We used to conserve power by choking out associated systems; the bug that gave us our name… turned into a feature. Would have been devastatingly effective on your friend: She doesn’t have any on-board power.]

“Still doesn’t explain why they’re wasting the effort to round them up.” You drum your fingers on the cap of the heavy cylinder. “What are D-types good at?”

[I already told you; I’m more of a hybrid than anything else: Knowledge, skills, systems…]

The cylinder flares with a gentle orange light. [Done. Hook it back in. It’ll spread through the network.]

You lever the cylinder back up and reconnect it. “What’s it doing?”

[In layman’s terms, I told it to try plugging the power strip into itself, only with a few more steps. It’ll chase that infinite efficiency quite a while, and between the excess load and wasted time, it’ll starve… Not before sharing the problem with its friends. You’re watching it think to death.]

The light spreads to the other cylinders one by one, like lights flickering on in a chandelier. As you withdraw your hand, a small orb of the fluid beads off of the cap, dropping into your palm. It’s hot to the touch, but cools rapidly, holding a bit of the mellow gold its source delivered in spades. “That simple?”

[Hell no. When I said a few, I meant overwhelming the error check. It’s a couple billion steps. Also… It’s not working right. How am I only getting a quarter of them?]

You glance at the array, which is getting noticeably hot. “All of them are lit up”

[They’re distributed, but that just means it should take them a moment to share-]

There is the sound of rolling thunder outside the compartment. Like that, you’re at a dead run, ignoring the protest of your leg.

One of the unfinished Ogres plows into the heavy structures like a battering ram, making no attempt to stay upright. The mass of metal does not get nearly as far as it intended; probably for want of free room to pick up speed: More of a body slam than a tackle. That does not mean that the collateral doesn’t quite nearly smash you like a bowl of eggs. You end up sprawled headlong behind a column with your arms guarding your head and neck.
>>
>>3060451

You stifle your coughing in the displaced dust, pulling yourself upright as you watch for any late collapse. “I thought you said we were hidden!”

[They guessed: Something noticed the trick and tracked it to the point of origin.]

“So we’re made then?” You stumble forward, pocketing the dormant nanites still firmly clutched in your hand.

[No. It was just a guess. If we were spotted, they would have relayed it by radio… It’s the goddamn D-types: The M-types don’t know any better, but the D-types do.]

Luckily, your weapon still hangs from its sling. You lost the battery, but you would have ditched it anyways. As it stands, your legs are screaming, and your blood pounds in your ears. You appear to be whole, barring a few new scrapes.

“The ones we came in with?”

[Had to be. They must be using them to advise their command units… Hell, speak of the devil: Half of them went silent when that Ogre came down on our patsy: They’re mounted in the Ogres! They were just going to pack up and march away.]

“Or mount a counter attack…” you wheeze. You can hear the sound of the remaining machines pulling away from their berths, thankfully at a pace far less indicative of a charge.

[Settle for a moment. They’re not cooperating well, per design: The M-types still took the bait line and sinker: If we can stay quiet for a bit, the Ogres will leave and the small ones will pick it up. We won’t have anything to worry about down here.]

>Evacuate: Make best speed to the surface, locating some emergency exit. You’ll get spotted for sure, but they shouldn’t have anything to hit you with unless you stick around at arm height.
>Blitz: Hustle to the elevator to disable it. You risk contact with the M-types, but you’ll be able to trap the machines down here until they waste the effort to repair the lift.
>[Tempo: Mark time and give yourself a moment for the attack to work. We can follow the Ogres out unharmed.]
>Comms: Find a hiding spot and relay the situation: Your team needs to know about these extra units immediately: They’re not going to starve on a tactical scale.
>Writein?

Calling it here. Hope the long update didn't leave anyone too bored. Need to figure a session around Thanksgiving, so watch this space for the next announcement. Questions, Comments and Critique always welcome.
>>
>>3060455
>>[Tempo: Mark time and give yourself a moment for the attack to work. We can follow the Ogres out unharmed.]
>>
>>3060455
>>[Tempo: Mark time and give yourself a moment for the attack to work. We can follow the Ogres out unharmed.]
We came all the way down here, we need to make sure it actually worked, especially considering someone noticed our fiddling.
It's good to get more differentiation between Ds & Ms, though I wish Mia had answered straight about Ds specialization.
>I’m more of a hybrid than anything else:
If Ds & Ms are working so close together here, what are the chances of another 'hybrid' forming? That would be a fantastically bad time, considering how much more 'aware' Mia is.


Thanks for running.
>>
>>3060455
>>Comms: Find a hiding spot and relay the situation: Your team needs to know about these extra units immediately: They’re not going to starve on a tactical scale.
>>
>>3060455
>Comms: Find a hiding spot and relay the situation: Your team needs to know about these extra units immediately: They’re not going to starve on a tactical scale.
>>
>>3060455
>>[Tempo: Mark time and give yourself a moment for the attack to work. We can follow the Ogres out unharmed.]

Opening comms while we're down here seems risky, when we've established they mostly don't have visual sensing but are RF sensitive.
>>
Session at 5 EST. Got back early.
>>
>>3060459
>>3060682
>>3061738

>Tempo

>>3060809
>>3061472

>Comms

Vote closes in 15
>>
>>3069054

>[I'll watch chatter till it dies down, Just keep us out of sight.]

Writing
>>
>>3069136

“I have to break cover eventually. Why won’t they just wait around?”

[The radio-thermal units can’t boost their generation much at all, so they’ve got a catch 22: If they get reprogrammed to hunt us, they pick up the bug and burn through reserves in a handful of minutes… Or they stay on their current gearing and we tip our hats to the little bastards as we leave. The command units can’t stick around; even with the additional brain-power and reserves, they’re on a timer. Odds are, they’re going to try to secure more fuel or go ham on their directive.]

There’s a sound like a half ton spider scurrying over in the ruins of the machinery that once housed the stationary M-type cluster. You slip around a fallen sheet of steel in time to see the one of the naked machines, the typical sunset orange of the M-types more similar to molten steel in and through its frame. It tears into the wreckage with abandon.

[On the other hand, they’ve got no reason to hold anything in reserve if they’re burning out anyways… Let’s move before they decide we made it out.]

You creep through the labyrinthine channels between the structures, eyes peeled for motion. “This might have been good as a warning.”

[I’ve said it twice; This is a setup] Mia sounds annoyed. [The M-types should be prototyping heat exchangers and fuel breeders, not Knights and hybrid control schema-]

She terminates the line of thought with a powerful feeling of dread. Before the confusion can set in, she caps the thought: [Ask me later.]

A flash of orange catches your eye. You draw up your PDW, only to recognize the revolving signals that surrounded the lift.

“Six minutes you said?”

[Yep. Two machines, so twelve and change. Unless you wanna take the ladder ten feet from an angry Knight.]

“Pass” You slump against a relatively smooth support, giving your leg some rest. “What are the odds they clip 01 walking out of here and we’re stranded?”

[Zero… Don’t be mad, but I forked over to your machine for this exact possibility… “Me two” is currently doing their best impression of a spare intercooler.]

“Any chance you can have her valet?”

[_It_ can’t be overridden without physical access. The whole point of the design is to avoid subversion.]

“You guys are really concerned with security aren’t you.” You perk up at another orange light, picking up a reasonably hefty piece of steel and chucking it over the side of the tank. A dull gong from the other side of the structure has the intended effect, the light receding around the other passage.

[No… We accept commands readily. It’s difficult to formulate a harmful command: We check for errors and check outcomes constantly.]

“Learning then?”

[The M-types reacted to a safety-related shutdown with trying to squash the technician. They certainly weren’t taught that, and you can’t blame the D-types for it.]

“Why not?”
>>
>>3069450

Before the answer can be drawn, you turn the corner, coming across the main drag. You can see the lift returning for the second Ogre, who takes an impressive 5 meter step up onto the moving plate.

For a moment, the machine balances in air, rotating forward in an almost elegant twist to plant its feet on the moving structure. You hear the grinding of the massive machinery as the lift reverses, pulling up the warbot and the lift against its current momentum. It holds however, made of sterner stuff.

[Fucking D-types. The last thing we needed were graceful rogue Knights.]

You wait patiently in your alley as the lift reaches the surface and begins back down. About halfway down, you decide to pick up the distance.

[We’ve hit the breakpoint: Anything active should have run out of juice at this point. Move up.]

You slip ahead, stepping over some of the wreckage of the mangled D-types from before. From your position here, it will take you only a dozen or so meters to reach the lift when it returns. The orange glow of the caution lights puts you on edge.

You recognize your error. The lift has nothing to do with your sudden apprehension, but rather it comes from the wreckage: A pair of fallen machines you mistook for dead in the dim light flare orange, returning to life at your flank.

[Shit. They shut down to stay quiet. Hold on, they might not have made us.]

The lift is still frustratingly high, but at the speed, not necessarily out of reach.

[They’re fresh. Maybe ten minutes on the clock. Just stay down.]

>Breakout: You have two targets, and more than enough rounds to take them out. At this range, you’ve got a great shot at it.
>Sprint: You can’t beat them at a fair race, but they need time to locate you: If you break now while they’re further behind, you can make it to the platform and clamber aboard.
>[Patience: It might be rough leaving your team out there for this long, but I’d personally prefer if we make it out of here alive.]
>Alternate route: Mia thought there could be a ladder or stair. Let the M-types lord over their elevator while you make your escape the old fashioned way.
>Writein?
>>
>>3069457
>Alternate route: Mia thought there could be a ladder or stair. Let the M-types lord over their elevator while you make your escape the old fashioned way.
>>
>>3069457
>>[Patience: It might be rough leaving your team out there for this long, but I’d personally prefer if we make it out of here alive.]
We can't really go traipsing up a ladder with a bad leg.

>Zero… Don’t be mad, but I forked over to your machine for this exact possibility
She what? She can do that? That's... not great. We're going to have to have words about the ramifications of that when we're not in the middle of a hostile base.


Welcome back.
>>
>>3069457
How bad is our leg? I know sprinting for very long is out of the question, but from Sam's knowledge of the height of the lift could his leg do okay on a ladder climb?
>>
>>3069643

He wouldn't be concerned with the climb itself. A potential sprint before or the fatigue after would be the concern.
>>
>>3069457
>Alternate route: Mia thought there could be a ladder or stair. Let the M-types lord over their elevator while you make your escape the old fashioned way.

>>3069655
In that case I think it's worth the extra speed. Specially since our Magd is pretty close after the lift so we can get off the leg afterwards.
>>
>>3069655
How tall is the lift (and ladder)? I got the impression it was several stories, but sometimes heavy duty lifts are just slow.
>>
>>3069723

4-5 stories is about right. It's not an easy climb, but for a conditioned soldier, it's totally doable, even on an injured leg.

Even better if it's a stairwell. Even if it's a pure ladder, odds are good there's room to rest at some point.
>>
>>3069557
>>3069689

>"I can't trust we can wait that long. Find me a new path."

Writing.

Thread may die. I'll put up a new one with the update.
>>
Just in case someone needs it:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Panzermagd
>>
>>3069862

“There’s three new targets up there that we weren’t planning around. I’m not giving them any time I’m not forced to.”

[Do you intend to fight through these guys?]

“Of course not. We’ll leave them the lift.” You rub your eyes. “Can you spot any alternative from here?”

[Right side. There’s a doorway aligned with a hydrant for fire suppression. There are good odds it links to a shaft or stairwell.]

“Good odds? Is it locked?”

[I’m not actually magic Sam; Hit it hard enough and I’m sure the door will give.]

You look out to the stalking M-types: Nothing convenient comes to hand to distract them. You’d rather not turn this into a footrace with a third as many legs as the lethal competitors… It can’t be helped; You’ll keep the PDW close and break as soon as they look away. You glance back and notice a contrasting glow; A dim blue light from one of the disjointed D-types on the ground. The large optic is familiar and fixes you with a similar stare, which you cannot help but feel judges you. You warn Mia, and she immediately focuses on the fallen machine and its sensor.

[Wait. There’s an opportunity. Move when you hear the signal.] She draws a path to the door in you periphery.

There’s a loud shriek, which you take as your cue. You slip free of the structure, leaving nothing but hard stone between yourself and the door. You’re in a full run when you spare a glimpse back.

The wrecked D-type is still watching you as the pair of orange M-units savage its prone form. You cannot shake the feeling that the single blue eye laughs as you run, even as the light fades from its corpse. A crucial second later, the bright orange of the M-types sweeps towards you: Spotlights in the dark.

You don’t spare them another glimpse, focused entirely on the doorway as your muscles scream. You can hear the click of metal on stone as you approach the door, which you plant a solid foot into. It almost holds, putting a pit in your stomach. At the last moment, while you balance on your bad foot, you hear a sharp crack and some crucial component gives, revealing a stairwell. You spare a half second of thanks as you regain your balance, continuing your pell mell run up the stairwell.

A long spine tipped with a textured head designed to crack and crush plating drives through the railing as one of the machines wildly strikes up the twisted metal staircase, well inside range, missing by luck. The followup is no longer close enough to harm you, but that does not stop you from scrambling up the stairs. The second unit applies its fury to the base floor, likely intending to drive the entire structure to the ground floor to intercept you. To your desperate hope, the structure is secured to the encasing masonry rather than the bottom floor: The machine’s efforts fade behind you as you cross the third landing.
>>
>>3070889

“Thanks for the distraction. They were a bit close.” You puff out as you take the fifth landing, spending just a moment to ensure you don’t collapse from the exertion.

[Yeah… Thanks.] You catch an uncharacteristic melancholy towards the abandoned D-type. [You’re a third the way up. Keep moving.]

The stairwell breaches around the seventh landing, but it appears to be a bad batch of concrete: With a short moment of care, you can step on the solid bars to reach solid ground again. You thank whoever decided to avoid cheeping on the steel.

When you reach the top, you find a lock that takes a significantly more solid strike to break. Obviously, it has nothing to do with your fatigue, but you manage to smash off the haft after a dozen strikes.

The top floor is as dark as you left it and no impacts or echoes indicate the Ogres remain in the building. You’re glad for the darkness, which at least suggests that none of the hunting units had made it topside as of yet. At your approach, your machine plods docilely towards you, rotating to proffer the necessary lift line. None of the bait you identified on the way down remains: Perhaps released, or simply offline in wake of the worm that Mia had infected them with.
>>
>>3070900

[I’d prefer not to be referred as a worm....] She mentions as you embark. [And yes, I understand the irony. I’ll remove myself from your craft if it causes you distress.]

“We’ll handle that later. Get me in contact with Durga.” You slam the lock shut, tapping the tags in the doorway and hopping into the pilot’s seat. The machine is entirely warmed up and accepts command as soon as you don your HMD. You set it into a run as you focus on regaining contact with your team.

[Got the Tac net; Give me a second.]

Your awareness expands to your team with an expected, but uncanny fidelity. “Sam here; We’re clear. Report.”

Lis breaks over the line; “Hearing you. Durga is engaged with one of the Ogres; We’re keeping the IRH off her back: There’s six down and they’re still popping up like fucking flies.”

[Is the M-type unit putting out any significant light?] You can feel as Mia rectifies the data into a solid map.

“You mean like the ones that broke from the site? No; This one’s dark. Two of them lit up like Christmas trees broke and tacked north. Jennings is on Durga right now; The Oriel units are going for suicide strikes with some sort of EMP weapon while Durga’s busy: If they get inside 25 meters, they’re firing something that frys themselves and anything close. A mob of the M-types tried to form up on your door about ten minutes ago, but broke when I put a few HEAT rounds their way.

True to her word, a few of the units met you on the way out, which you streamed a few grenades towards. They didn’t stand a chance. “I’m moving out now. Why’s Durga not responding?”

“Lucky shot. The first Oriel unit got damn close to the Erinyes before we figured out their game. Jennings and I have been keeping them at bay, but there’s at least six of them still taking pot shots at us. As far as I can tell, Durga’s being cautious: No significant damage, but she’s not fried the sucker yet.

Jennings breaks over the radio, “Plan’s still solid: The Oriel units haven’t got inside of a quarter click after the first one. Durga’s been sparring with the big guy, but we’re keeping the IRH busy. Did you get your thing done?”

“According to Mia, we’re in the clear: Anything in the region should be starving rather quickly beside the big units.” You release the safeties on your weapons.

>Cleanup: Move to clear the remaining Oriel units off your flank: Especially if they’re launching disrupting EMP charges, you want them handled as soon as possible
>Durga: She’s not being cautious, she’s being locked down. Move to push the M-type units off her.
>[Headhunt: There’s no way Oriel is pressing back real pilots without being on the front lines: I’m tired of this guy too, aren’t you?]
>Harry: You’ve got two Ogres free and lose in the battle plan. You want them to find better places to be, and you’re pretty sure a few rounds will get them moving.
>Writein?
>>
>>3070907
>>Cleanup: Move to clear the remaining Oriel units off your flank: Especially if they’re launching disrupting EMP charges, you want them handled as soon as possible
Those EMPs could ruin any of our days, but they could especially ruin Durga's, and if she goes down we're going to be in for a bad time. The headhunt is attractive though. Why are the attractive options always the ones provided by the moderately trustworthy nano-hybrid?
>>
>>3070941

She has your best interests at heart doesn't she?
>>
>>3070907
>>Cleanup: Move to clear the remaining Oriel units off your flank: Especially if they’re launching disrupting EMP charges, you want them handled as soon as possible
>>
>>3070948
So long as our interests align.

What's got me worried is that she /could/ fork into our Magd at all. A large part of our ability to trust her is that she can't jump ship on us without a specific type of replacement host.
>>
>>3070977

I might not have made this clear; She can't rely on the Magd as a host. She can leave behind a simple reactive system, but 01 is not a sufficiently advanced system to use as a host.
>>
>>3070979
Thank goodness.
>“Me two”
had me thinking along those lines, glad see I was mistaken.
>>
>>3070941
>>3070966

"Another complication. I'm getting rather tired of this guy..."


Writing.





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