Member
Megsychan
Izurich
Venus
AlteredTundra
Timemaster@Timemaster@Sigma
O P : B L I T Z
LOYALTY
New Beijing
To anyone versed in theology, they would presume that a crusader-like gathering of soldiers would have frequent prayers, incense and meditation. The Church of the Damned catered to the poor, downtrodden masses of the Frontier or the lower city states. These were former gangsters, murderers, beggars, cutthroats and day-to-day survivors of the Khanate. Enlightened (or attracted by shelter and food), they would "shed" their previous lives and either be inducted as pilgrims, protectors or clergy. Unlike the theocracy, the Damned flaunted their protection and guns, reveling more in the martial aspect of humanity's spirits. And so, the "Extra-Solar Monkey Group" as they were locally called, looked more like a regular military camp than expected. If one ignored the many shirtless simians covered in body paint and listening to hardcore "go-drilla", new drill music originating from Reformed America.
That is to say, not all of the E.S.M.G were Damned, there were apes from across the Khanate present. Thus the tension was thick in the air, especially with recent events. Knives were sharpened in base, cliques formed and everyone was ready to point "who's who" for defection. The assigned officers were scrambling to keep order, barely holding on to the city as they were. It was these officers, handpicked by the Khanate ambassadors for their military/Legion service, Damned or not, that kept this ball rolling. Not that they lacked their own arguments and gripes.
"Fuckin' Freemen pricks, as if we didn't have enough on our plate in this spirit forsaken city." A bulging gorilla covered in white body paint and feathers, a typical Damned protector. A primitive look which was completed by the axe strapped to his waist but was interrupted by the twin-barrel chain gun on his back when in combat.
"Can't say I blame the wig-wearers, these people need freedom! My brother best be leading those pansies while he's over there, Washingtons know best!" Major Washington, not to be confused with Major General Washington, leader of the remaining Reformed Americans which remained. They were called the "breadwinners" of the traitors, for staying on their contracts instead of jumping ship. No one trusted them so they were sent to man the dangerous checkpoints outside the Iron.
Jeers and insults were thrown around the room, the tension boiling over into harsh banter.
A sharp clack reverberated through the tent. Major General Batzorig I, infamous younger brother to the Khan, grumbled from his seat and stood, cane in hand. Blind in one eye, experimented on with then-illegal procedures and the most experienced mercenary of the lot. Respected enough to be chosen as head of the E.S.M.C. Human fingers pointed at several officers.
"You, you, you and you." The four stood at attention as they knew how, each varying slightly from each other. The old wizened hand then guided itself along the map on the table, tracing a red-marked section. Several in the tent winced. Red meant dead in this city, the most concentrated White Flower presence was there. Along with their strange allies. Outside the Iron meant being surrounded and outnumbered with second-rate equipment.
"We make inroads into White Flower-territory in three days time. In light of the news of the desertions and the Columbian betrayal, we must show a stronger face in this city. The plan is to clear the way for F.O.B Steel, near the perimeter of the red zone. We must reduced WF numbers near this red line." The red outlined the most dense part of the city, which limited sensor accuracy and greater mobility for the apes. A perfect spot for ambushes. "Standard procedures apply. Do not fire unless fired upon, keep an eye out for scouts, IEDs and ambushes. You will each lead a convoy of five Warhead-class APCs, two overwatch teams and a flight of drones. A three prong offensive backed by a QRF reserve."
A grim task, sure to be the deadliest operation in the war so far. Though the majority of the 401st had been captured into POW camps near operational HQ, elements were still at large actively opposing the occupation of the city. An armed, deadly and trained force of regulars supported by those strange human clones and regular WF. A force to be reckoned with though simian supremacy still shone in the minds of many, dulled only by the brutal city-fighting of the time past.
"The rest of us will strike at known WF hotspots outside the red zone, coordinated between myself and Major Washington. Give you some time and breathing space to hit these softskins hard in the mouth. There will be limited ECU support, they are tied up with other elements elsewhere so I'm told." Several apes snorted at the comment. The focus was on Neo London in this revolution. Leave it to the apes to be operating the unappreciated sideshow, not that any of them thought this war would continue on for much longer.
"Ready your apes and say your prayers. Operation: Blitz is in effect and I want everyone prepared for this push. Lets show these softskins what a simian blitzkrieg looks like."
The brass had decided to operate during the night while in lockdown hours, to increase the chance of hostile activity. If they could flush out the WF now while minimising civilian casualties, their slipping hold on the city could strengthen. Their advanced sensors, drones and overwatch teams should provide enough coverage to negate the effect of the dark.
This did nothing to make the streets of Neo Beijing any less creepy to one Sergeant Kingston, who had to spend his time twirling an overly large knife to calm his nerves. Joining the E.S.M.G to make a fresh start in a wider galaxy, he could not have made a worse decision in his opinion. An ape with common sense could see they were on the wrong side of history here but at least the job paid well. Well enough to babysit upstart, jumpy baboons that is.
A pothole sent heads into the ceiling, reminding everyone why this particular class of APC was so cheap. The orangutan dialed the in-vehicle music louder to drown out the swear words from the back, eyes scanning his tac-screen.
"♪ That's why I fucked yo bitch you fat mothafucka. West Side! ♫"
The tactical UI HUD of the Khanate militaries were its pride and joy. The INFOWAR cloud connected every military asset through high-speed encrypted connections, with each soldier carrying a mini-computer to better facilitate information. Almost instantly, an entire company of soldiers could be made aware of hostiles marked red on their HUD with casualty reports, estimated enemy firepower and numbers. Upon the loss of an officer, the near-AI sorting INFOWAR is able to dictate field promotions based on active performance evaluations while following the order of command. Communication was instantaneous and soldiers can hook into their local flight of drones for the advanced sensors and a bird's eye view of the battlefield. Standard equipment came with extra information on health levels for individuals or squads, stim level info, ammunition count and the vulnerability of known materials in marked buildings. Legion and customised equipment could even improve upon these feats. Even now, Kingston could watch in real-time the other convoys racing through the streets of New Beijing while checking on the vital signs of the apes behind him.
- Health levels are all clear Lieutenant, the music helps. Kingston quipped into voice comms, his direct superior giving a small acknowledgement from the APC behind his lead one. The sergeant took the time to marvel at the human streets around him.
If he used two words to describe it, it would be empty and depressing. No wonder the humans needed those simulations to get through the day if their cities was as colourless as this. At least compared to his own Freemen city, it was not as vivacious as he was used to. This disappointed Kingston, who expected better from his predecessors but this was to be expected from an inferior species. They were bred to be better after all. He recalled the last few weeks of violence which surrounded the apes, harkening back to the ape's own Last War. Unlike themselves, it seemed as though the humans did not learn from their own mistakes. Two wars in what, mere months of galactic interaction?
But he had to admit, these humans were crafty. They were near equals to apes in martial prowess, if only in cunning. Kingston could recall the number of ambushes and IEDs which befell on poor convoys, the amount of blood spilt, flowing through the streets. If they wanted to fight brutal, the apes could too. Limbs were torn off and anguished screams would reverberate within walls to strike fear into the human resistance. They always matched the apes in fiery determination. Which was why the silence of the last ten minutes since entering the red zone was suspicious.
"Gunner Xi, do you see anything with the APC sensors?"
"That's a negative Sarge, no movement except for standard household human stuff. If we can sense these humans mating in their bedrooms, we'll be able to see them coming before they swing our way. It's empty of hostiles."
The orangutan NCO grinded his teeth, picking at fleas in an attempt to relieve his anxiety. Maybe the humans just retreated, knowing that they were coming? He glanced at their objective on the HUD. A bribed and blackmailed informant told the brass of heavy WF presence near an empty plaza. The Flowers must know that the E.S.M.G was on their case. Where the fuck were they?
"♪ Grab ya glocks, when you see Tupac ♫ Call the cops, when you see Tupac-"
A sharp bang was heard, followed by a crack as the bulletproof windshield of the APC did its job. A bone-white object fell to the side of Kingston's peripheral vision. Of course, a bloody intersection before the plaza was where they chose to take their stand. The drivers slammed on the brakes as soon as the impact was heard. The Damned overwatch teams raced forward to provide support. INFOWAR chimed with information.
>Hostiles detected and marked: 2
>Projectile = Spear, possible clone WF presence
>Error, error
>Sensors confirm presence of previously unknown hostiles: 62
>IMMINENT DANGER: EXPLOSIVE DETECTED
>WARNING WARNING: ALL <Relevant> ASSETS UNDER ATTACK
>WARNING WARNING: SENSORS INHIBITED BY UKNOWN BLOCKER
Kingston's enhancements allowed time to "slow down" for him, adrenaline pumping through his enlarged veins. His eyes bulged in surprise. Memory racing, he tracked the primitive spear in his mind. To it was strapped a miniature explosive.
Courtesy of the One, monkeys.
"Ah fu-." A searing heat, deafening noise. Kingston saw black and knew no more.
@Irredeemable@Tortoise
O P : F R E E D O M R I S I N G
LIBERTY
Neo London
They felt calm even as another Jetrike sped past their position, spitting out the dwindling stim-cigars and stamping on it. The room was dark and dreary, part of a boarded up New Hollywood home turned hideaway. The entrance of the apes into the White Flowers was controversial, to say the least of it. It was clear the majority of their "allies" only trusted them as far as they can throw them, which was not very far given how heavy apes are. Thus the deserters were sent into the thick of it by their new leaders, graciously left to their own devices as long as they did not interfere heavily with human operations. This way they could be out of sight and out of mind for the xenophobic humans which populated the irradiated world. They liked it this way. No softskins to slow them down.
They were all equipped with heavy weapons by human standards, large caliber guns which just made the right sound that the apes could enjoy. Even distinguished Freemen enjoyed the firepower that simian guns provided. Human weapons lacked a certain dakka quality. One gorilla even had a large rotating cannon on her back. Along with their armament, each deserter was provided state-of-the-art technology, courtesy of the Republicans.
Overt visors with bulging communication and sensor suites covered everything from their nose upwards. Sleek armour painted gold, black and red, stamped "LIBERTY" in the ostentatious way the wig-wearers liked. Ribbons adorned the arms of each Freeman, regalia of past conflicts, quotes of freedom etched on to the metal. More than a few had the Statue of Liberty tattooed on their person or otherwise put on their armour. Each of them, much like their American brothers, were firm believers of liberty of all peoples and the right for self-governance. The desertion was as easy to them as it was to walk out of a room, their minds were made up as soon as the Revolution came to be known.
Back home, they would be regaled as martyrs of freedom. Though none of them will ever set foot on New Gift ever again, the wings of freedom must fly in every world. No matter how many men, women or children have to die for it.
They were, of course, zealots. The lot of them. Mentally insane Republican Army rejects who were shipped off to do the bidding of the government which turned its back on them. Not that they minded, it was this or be a gene-slave for another foreign power. Tiffany Holstead provided them a glorious death, pushing the boot of oppression into the dirt and spitting on it. The ecstasy each felt when they maimed and killed the oppressors was addictive. But still, they waited in silence, heat rushed to their furry cheeks as they waited for the chime.
>Hostiles detected and marked: 10
>Heavy <"Protector"> presence
>BE ADVISED: ENEMY FORCES INBOUND
>MARK
>GO
Glass and rubble rained on the Protectors down below as apes flooded out of the building. They screeched and hollered war cries, erupting into a once silent alleyway. The cannon spat its load, kicking up rubble in front of the Terror Machine to stop it in its tracks. Heavy, booming gunfire tore up the street and the humans below, some apes choosing to close in for their kills. An ungodly amount of noise and light belched out of the Terror Machine, making the apes falter in their attack, allowing the Protectors to almost reinvigorate themselves into a counter-attack. But the apes had reached close quarters that same second. Ears bleeding and hallucinating from the noise, the closest apes screeched even louder, baring fangs. The simians lunged just as emergency sensory shutdown activated, blocking out their sense of sight and hearing.
The smell of blood and fear was enough to guide them. Shrieks were heard under the cacophony of gunfire and terror-tactics as limbs were torn, heads were bitten off and torsos were pummeled. The tight quarters of the city street favoured the bloody apes which ripped and tore through their opposition, splattering blood against the walls and the Terror Machine. The panicked driver attempted reverse out of the ambush but one close quarters gorilla smashed through the door, sensing the fear and panic. Extending one meaty arm over the human's head, a good squeeze later and viscera covered the inside of the vehicle.
The bloody, noisy slaughter lasted only two minutes. Swift and brutal justice delivered unto these "Protectors".
But just as quickly as they struck, nearly all of them left.
Climbing rooftops or scampering into hallways, Matuvistan or ECU reinforcements found the same disgusting sight all around the city after the initial attack on New Westminister. Patrols would need to be reinforced and trackers sent out to find the beasts. The tactical effectiveness of such ambushes were marginal, only harming a few patrols before the Matuvistans cracked down on them, inflicting harsh casualties on the apes. But the psychological damage of it all was what the apes were searching for. The icing on the cake came from the two martyrs left behind, hijacking the Terror Machines.
The inside of the once-ECU vehicle was a mess of wires and computers. One driver and one hacker was all that was needed. Though some pairs were cuaght before they could gallivant around the city, many were successful in their efforts. Merely rerouting all power to the speakers and changing the sound file they played, they would drive off in a high speed chase around the nearest concentrations of ECU citizens. They would hoot and holler, singing with both brevity and a touch of sadness.
"Do you hear the people sing?
Singing a song of angry men?
It is the music of a people
Who will not be slaves again!
When the beating of your heart
Echoes the beating of the drums
There is a life about to start
When tomorrow comes!
Will you join in our crusade?
Who will be strong and stand with me?
Beyond the barricade
Is there a world you long to see?
Then join in the fight
That will give you the right to be free!"
The lunatic martyrs would be killed by whatever forces could catch them first, driving off in a wild goose chase. Though their human leaders may not understand, the apes knew the power of music to rouse a people.
Liberty reigns. Free the ECU.
O P : B L I T Z
LOYALTY
New Beijing
To anyone versed in theology, they would presume that a crusader-like gathering of soldiers would have frequent prayers, incense and meditation. The Church of the Damned catered to the poor, downtrodden masses of the Frontier or the lower city states. These were former gangsters, murderers, beggars, cutthroats and day-to-day survivors of the Khanate. Enlightened (or attracted by shelter and food), they would "shed" their previous lives and either be inducted as pilgrims, protectors or clergy. Unlike the theocracy, the Damned flaunted their protection and guns, reveling more in the martial aspect of humanity's spirits. And so, the "Extra-Solar Monkey Group" as they were locally called, looked more like a regular military camp than expected. If one ignored the many shirtless simians covered in body paint and listening to hardcore "go-drilla", new drill music originating from Reformed America.
That is to say, not all of the E.S.M.G were Damned, there were apes from across the Khanate present. Thus the tension was thick in the air, especially with recent events. Knives were sharpened in base, cliques formed and everyone was ready to point "who's who" for defection. The assigned officers were scrambling to keep order, barely holding on to the city as they were. It was these officers, handpicked by the Khanate ambassadors for their military/Legion service, Damned or not, that kept this ball rolling. Not that they lacked their own arguments and gripes.
"Fuckin' Freemen pricks, as if we didn't have enough on our plate in this spirit forsaken city." A bulging gorilla covered in white body paint and feathers, a typical Damned protector. A primitive look which was completed by the axe strapped to his waist but was interrupted by the twin-barrel chain gun on his back when in combat.
"Can't say I blame the wig-wearers, these people need freedom! My brother best be leading those pansies while he's over there, Washingtons know best!" Major Washington, not to be confused with Major General Washington, leader of the remaining Reformed Americans which remained. They were called the "breadwinners" of the traitors, for staying on their contracts instead of jumping ship. No one trusted them so they were sent to man the dangerous checkpoints outside the Iron.
Jeers and insults were thrown around the room, the tension boiling over into harsh banter.
A sharp clack reverberated through the tent. Major General Batzorig I, infamous younger brother to the Khan, grumbled from his seat and stood, cane in hand. Blind in one eye, experimented on with then-illegal procedures and the most experienced mercenary of the lot. Respected enough to be chosen as head of the E.S.M.C. Human fingers pointed at several officers.
"You, you, you and you." The four stood at attention as they knew how, each varying slightly from each other. The old wizened hand then guided itself along the map on the table, tracing a red-marked section. Several in the tent winced. Red meant dead in this city, the most concentrated White Flower presence was there. Along with their strange allies. Outside the Iron meant being surrounded and outnumbered with second-rate equipment.
"We make inroads into White Flower-territory in three days time. In light of the news of the desertions and the Columbian betrayal, we must show a stronger face in this city. The plan is to clear the way for F.O.B Steel, near the perimeter of the red zone. We must reduced WF numbers near this red line." The red outlined the most dense part of the city, which limited sensor accuracy and greater mobility for the apes. A perfect spot for ambushes. "Standard procedures apply. Do not fire unless fired upon, keep an eye out for scouts, IEDs and ambushes. You will each lead a convoy of five Warhead-class APCs, two overwatch teams and a flight of drones. A three prong offensive backed by a QRF reserve."
A grim task, sure to be the deadliest operation in the war so far. Though the majority of the 401st had been captured into POW camps near operational HQ, elements were still at large actively opposing the occupation of the city. An armed, deadly and trained force of regulars supported by those strange human clones and regular WF. A force to be reckoned with though simian supremacy still shone in the minds of many, dulled only by the brutal city-fighting of the time past.
"The rest of us will strike at known WF hotspots outside the red zone, coordinated between myself and Major Washington. Give you some time and breathing space to hit these softskins hard in the mouth. There will be limited ECU support, they are tied up with other elements elsewhere so I'm told." Several apes snorted at the comment. The focus was on Neo London in this revolution. Leave it to the apes to be operating the unappreciated sideshow, not that any of them thought this war would continue on for much longer.
"Ready your apes and say your prayers. Operation: Blitz is in effect and I want everyone prepared for this push. Lets show these softskins what a simian blitzkrieg looks like."
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The brass had decided to operate during the night while in lockdown hours, to increase the chance of hostile activity. If they could flush out the WF now while minimising civilian casualties, their slipping hold on the city could strengthen. Their advanced sensors, drones and overwatch teams should provide enough coverage to negate the effect of the dark.
This did nothing to make the streets of Neo Beijing any less creepy to one Sergeant Kingston, who had to spend his time twirling an overly large knife to calm his nerves. Joining the E.S.M.G to make a fresh start in a wider galaxy, he could not have made a worse decision in his opinion. An ape with common sense could see they were on the wrong side of history here but at least the job paid well. Well enough to babysit upstart, jumpy baboons that is.
A pothole sent heads into the ceiling, reminding everyone why this particular class of APC was so cheap. The orangutan dialed the in-vehicle music louder to drown out the swear words from the back, eyes scanning his tac-screen.
"♪ That's why I fucked yo bitch you fat mothafucka. West Side! ♫"
The tactical UI HUD of the Khanate militaries were its pride and joy. The INFOWAR cloud connected every military asset through high-speed encrypted connections, with each soldier carrying a mini-computer to better facilitate information. Almost instantly, an entire company of soldiers could be made aware of hostiles marked red on their HUD with casualty reports, estimated enemy firepower and numbers. Upon the loss of an officer, the near-AI sorting INFOWAR is able to dictate field promotions based on active performance evaluations while following the order of command. Communication was instantaneous and soldiers can hook into their local flight of drones for the advanced sensors and a bird's eye view of the battlefield. Standard equipment came with extra information on health levels for individuals or squads, stim level info, ammunition count and the vulnerability of known materials in marked buildings. Legion and customised equipment could even improve upon these feats. Even now, Kingston could watch in real-time the other convoys racing through the streets of New Beijing while checking on the vital signs of the apes behind him.
- Health levels are all clear Lieutenant, the music helps. Kingston quipped into voice comms, his direct superior giving a small acknowledgement from the APC behind his lead one. The sergeant took the time to marvel at the human streets around him.
If he used two words to describe it, it would be empty and depressing. No wonder the humans needed those simulations to get through the day if their cities was as colourless as this. At least compared to his own Freemen city, it was not as vivacious as he was used to. This disappointed Kingston, who expected better from his predecessors but this was to be expected from an inferior species. They were bred to be better after all. He recalled the last few weeks of violence which surrounded the apes, harkening back to the ape's own Last War. Unlike themselves, it seemed as though the humans did not learn from their own mistakes. Two wars in what, mere months of galactic interaction?
But he had to admit, these humans were crafty. They were near equals to apes in martial prowess, if only in cunning. Kingston could recall the number of ambushes and IEDs which befell on poor convoys, the amount of blood spilt, flowing through the streets. If they wanted to fight brutal, the apes could too. Limbs were torn off and anguished screams would reverberate within walls to strike fear into the human resistance. They always matched the apes in fiery determination. Which was why the silence of the last ten minutes since entering the red zone was suspicious.
"Gunner Xi, do you see anything with the APC sensors?"
"That's a negative Sarge, no movement except for standard household human stuff. If we can sense these humans mating in their bedrooms, we'll be able to see them coming before they swing our way. It's empty of hostiles."
The orangutan NCO grinded his teeth, picking at fleas in an attempt to relieve his anxiety. Maybe the humans just retreated, knowing that they were coming? He glanced at their objective on the HUD. A bribed and blackmailed informant told the brass of heavy WF presence near an empty plaza. The Flowers must know that the E.S.M.G was on their case. Where the fuck were they?
"♪ Grab ya glocks, when you see Tupac ♫ Call the cops, when you see Tupac-"
A sharp bang was heard, followed by a crack as the bulletproof windshield of the APC did its job. A bone-white object fell to the side of Kingston's peripheral vision. Of course, a bloody intersection before the plaza was where they chose to take their stand. The drivers slammed on the brakes as soon as the impact was heard. The Damned overwatch teams raced forward to provide support. INFOWAR chimed with information.
>Hostiles detected and marked: 2
>Projectile = Spear, possible clone WF presence
>Error, error
>Sensors confirm presence of previously unknown hostiles: 62
>IMMINENT DANGER: EXPLOSIVE DETECTED
>WARNING WARNING: ALL <Relevant> ASSETS UNDER ATTACK
>WARNING WARNING: SENSORS INHIBITED BY UKNOWN BLOCKER
Kingston's enhancements allowed time to "slow down" for him, adrenaline pumping through his enlarged veins. His eyes bulged in surprise. Memory racing, he tracked the primitive spear in his mind. To it was strapped a miniature explosive.
Courtesy of the One, monkeys.
"Ah fu-." A searing heat, deafening noise. Kingston saw black and knew no more.
@Irredeemable@Tortoise
O P : F R E E D O M R I S I N G
LIBERTY
Neo London
They felt calm even as another Jetrike sped past their position, spitting out the dwindling stim-cigars and stamping on it. The room was dark and dreary, part of a boarded up New Hollywood home turned hideaway. The entrance of the apes into the White Flowers was controversial, to say the least of it. It was clear the majority of their "allies" only trusted them as far as they can throw them, which was not very far given how heavy apes are. Thus the deserters were sent into the thick of it by their new leaders, graciously left to their own devices as long as they did not interfere heavily with human operations. This way they could be out of sight and out of mind for the xenophobic humans which populated the irradiated world. They liked it this way. No softskins to slow them down.
They were all equipped with heavy weapons by human standards, large caliber guns which just made the right sound that the apes could enjoy. Even distinguished Freemen enjoyed the firepower that simian guns provided. Human weapons lacked a certain dakka quality. One gorilla even had a large rotating cannon on her back. Along with their armament, each deserter was provided state-of-the-art technology, courtesy of the Republicans.
Overt visors with bulging communication and sensor suites covered everything from their nose upwards. Sleek armour painted gold, black and red, stamped "LIBERTY" in the ostentatious way the wig-wearers liked. Ribbons adorned the arms of each Freeman, regalia of past conflicts, quotes of freedom etched on to the metal. More than a few had the Statue of Liberty tattooed on their person or otherwise put on their armour. Each of them, much like their American brothers, were firm believers of liberty of all peoples and the right for self-governance. The desertion was as easy to them as it was to walk out of a room, their minds were made up as soon as the Revolution came to be known.
Back home, they would be regaled as martyrs of freedom. Though none of them will ever set foot on New Gift ever again, the wings of freedom must fly in every world. No matter how many men, women or children have to die for it.
They were, of course, zealots. The lot of them. Mentally insane Republican Army rejects who were shipped off to do the bidding of the government which turned its back on them. Not that they minded, it was this or be a gene-slave for another foreign power. Tiffany Holstead provided them a glorious death, pushing the boot of oppression into the dirt and spitting on it. The ecstasy each felt when they maimed and killed the oppressors was addictive. But still, they waited in silence, heat rushed to their furry cheeks as they waited for the chime.
>Hostiles detected and marked: 10
>Heavy <"Protector"> presence
>BE ADVISED: ENEMY FORCES INBOUND
>MARK
>GO
Glass and rubble rained on the Protectors down below as apes flooded out of the building. They screeched and hollered war cries, erupting into a once silent alleyway. The cannon spat its load, kicking up rubble in front of the Terror Machine to stop it in its tracks. Heavy, booming gunfire tore up the street and the humans below, some apes choosing to close in for their kills. An ungodly amount of noise and light belched out of the Terror Machine, making the apes falter in their attack, allowing the Protectors to almost reinvigorate themselves into a counter-attack. But the apes had reached close quarters that same second. Ears bleeding and hallucinating from the noise, the closest apes screeched even louder, baring fangs. The simians lunged just as emergency sensory shutdown activated, blocking out their sense of sight and hearing.
The smell of blood and fear was enough to guide them. Shrieks were heard under the cacophony of gunfire and terror-tactics as limbs were torn, heads were bitten off and torsos were pummeled. The tight quarters of the city street favoured the bloody apes which ripped and tore through their opposition, splattering blood against the walls and the Terror Machine. The panicked driver attempted reverse out of the ambush but one close quarters gorilla smashed through the door, sensing the fear and panic. Extending one meaty arm over the human's head, a good squeeze later and viscera covered the inside of the vehicle.
The bloody, noisy slaughter lasted only two minutes. Swift and brutal justice delivered unto these "Protectors".
But just as quickly as they struck, nearly all of them left.
Climbing rooftops or scampering into hallways, Matuvistan or ECU reinforcements found the same disgusting sight all around the city after the initial attack on New Westminister. Patrols would need to be reinforced and trackers sent out to find the beasts. The tactical effectiveness of such ambushes were marginal, only harming a few patrols before the Matuvistans cracked down on them, inflicting harsh casualties on the apes. But the psychological damage of it all was what the apes were searching for. The icing on the cake came from the two martyrs left behind, hijacking the Terror Machines.
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The inside of the once-ECU vehicle was a mess of wires and computers. One driver and one hacker was all that was needed. Though some pairs were cuaght before they could gallivant around the city, many were successful in their efforts. Merely rerouting all power to the speakers and changing the sound file they played, they would drive off in a high speed chase around the nearest concentrations of ECU citizens. They would hoot and holler, singing with both brevity and a touch of sadness.
"Do you hear the people sing?
Singing a song of angry men?
It is the music of a people
Who will not be slaves again!
When the beating of your heart
Echoes the beating of the drums
There is a life about to start
When tomorrow comes!
Will you join in our crusade?
Who will be strong and stand with me?
Beyond the barricade
Is there a world you long to see?
Then join in the fight
That will give you the right to be free!"
The lunatic martyrs would be killed by whatever forces could catch them first, driving off in a wild goose chase. Though their human leaders may not understand, the apes knew the power of music to rouse a people.
Liberty reigns. Free the ECU.
