In the midst of summer, you were freezing your ass off. Despite being strapped in Parsifal, your Spider-Type Combat Vehicle (STCV), the cold, frostbitten air of the Whitehorn alps still managed to make its way into the cockpit—the result of a faulty ventilation unit you hadn't had the time to report prior to the mission. It wasn't so bad, however. The ambient heat produced by the battery unit provided some much-needed warmth on this moonless night.

"Tannhäuser to all units," a raspy voice sounded from your transponder. "It's time to move."

You glanced at your watch: 0158. A ping drew your attention to the navigation module on the left monitor. An arrow now pointed from one sector to another. In quick succession, your other squadmates radioed in to acknowledge the order.

"Siegfried to Tannhäuser, ready to reposition."

"Lohengrin to Tannhäuser, let's get out of here."

The quiet hum of your combat vehicle, no louder than the howling of the wind, suddenly rose to a low growl as you engaged the piledrivers—special mechanical legs designed for omnidirectional movement in mountainous terrain. The cable from which you were dangling whirred as it was retracted.

"Parsifal to Tannhäuser, silk disengaged. Shall we?"

"Let's go."

The four of you moved in a line along the side of the mountain. Naturally, as one of the two assault units, you were at the front with Siegfried, while Lohengrin cruised with Tannhäuser at the rear. Though a week had passed without any action, everyone was on high-alert. You of all people knew how precarious the situation was. The fate of an entire nation was at stake.

~*~*~*~

0210. Your squad arrived within the expected time and each of you positioned yourselves accordingly on the mountain face. A dozen kilometres northward would land one squarely in the territory of the United Humanitarian Collective (UHC), or just the collective, as most people called it.

The sky was unblemished on this night, and the stars were glorious in their full view. Far off in the distance, the snowy peaks glimmered with an astral sheen just as they must have through the eons, long before men roamed this earth, before the upheaval of the world. You were sure it would have looked even more beautiful, if you could see it with your very own eyes rather than through a screen. Everyone kept watch in solemn silence.

~*~*~*~

0337. It was almost the end of your watch. As you yawned, an order suddenly came in.

"Tannhäuser to all units, suspicious activity reported at outpost K. Highlighting the location on your maps."

A red perimeter promptly appeared on your navigation module, which indicated it was thirteen kilometres north-west of your current position. At the same time, in the corner of one of your screens, you could have sworn the snows in that general direction were brighter than usual, effulgent even, as if the stars were guiding you there.

"Siegfried to Tannhäuser. It's a ways away. How are we getting there? By silk?"

>>6240426 (OP)
"We'll go by silk, you can walk," Lohengrin cheekily interjected.

"Enough." Tannhäuser, in his usual serious tone, cut in. "You can joke all you want when we're back at base. Engage your spinnerets. Parsifal, on your lead."

"Parsifal to Tannhäuser, understood."

With a quick scan of the environment, you picked out a myriad of potential moving-off points; and after eyeballing some distance measurements, you piloted Parsifal to the optimal launch position. The piledrivers began chambering as you progressively squeezed the appropriate handles, relying purely on intuition to gauge the power needed to make the jump.

"Parsifal to all units, taking off."

A violent force pushed you deep into your seat as Parsifal flung itself off the wall. You tugged on the controls to swerve, making small adjustments in real-time to face the opposing mountain; your combat vehicle traced a crescent in the air. And at the crown of the arc—where your vertical velocity was momentarily zero—you fired two grappling hooks from the front face of Parsifal. Once they dug into solid stone, you reeled yourself in.

Your comrades followed suit. To the native fauna of the alps, it must have looked as if four quadrupedal beasts were soaring through the sky from peak to peak, hunting for their next meal.

~*~*~*~

The carnage was like nothing you had ever seen before. Along the mountain slope lay several battered STCVs and the bodies of countless soldiers stationed at outpost K.

"What the..." Siegfried's incredulity could not be more obvious.

Once reported to high command—supposing there would be anyone left to report back—this was sure to be counted as one of the deadliest skirmishes with the UHC since the First War of Resistance.

"Tannhäuser to all units. Prepare to engage."

"Roger!" you and your two other squadmates replied in unison.

The enemy, preparing to advance from downhill, had not yet spotted your squad. You would take them by surprise.

"I've just made contact with the officer in charge. We'll flank them from the east. He's warning us about a strange type of unit that's able to immobilise STCVs. Be on your toes." Tannhäuser paused; through the transponder, you could hear a series of clicks and key presses. "Here's what I got so far."

Your mind lingered on the word "immobilise" for a bit as a few visuals and diagrams flashed on the screen to your right. There were only—five units?! You were half-expecting a force of strength at least equivalent to the regiment posted here. You brought up the low-resolution capture of the "strange" unit in question. It was a UHC combat vehicle you had never encountered before and there were two of them. They looked about the same, except that one had a long-barreled gun which fanned out in the rough shape of a cone. The rest of the enemy units were standard STCVs used by the Collective.

>>6240434
Lohengrin spoke up. "Shall I snipe the one with the gun?"

"Parsifal and I should be enough to handle him and his buddy. What do you say?" You didn't know if that question was directed at you or Lohengrin. Best to settle this quickly before Tannhäuser got pissy, you thought.

~*~*~*~

>Attempt to swiftly neutralise the two strange units with Siegfried.

>Distract the grunts while Lohengrin lines up a shot.

>Write in.

>>6240436

A new mech quest? Sign me the fuck up.

>Attempt to swiftly neutralise the two strange units with Siegfried.

Kill the weird ones.

>>6240436
>Attempt to swiftly neutralise the two strange units with Siegfried.

>>6240436
>Attempt to swiftly neutralise the two strange units with Siegfried.
This is gonna be fun

>>6240436
>Distract the grunts while Lohengrin lines up a shot.

Inshallah we will not be stunlocked by the digital djinn of shaitan

>>6240436
>Distract the grunts while Lohengrin lines up a shot.
"swiftly neutralise" sounds like "get hard countered by the thing we were warned would hard counter us"

>>6240534
If you're moving fast enough your body becomes a bullet. Momentum is a weapon.

>>6240436
>Distract the grunts while Lohengrin lines up a shot.

>>6240436
>>Distract the grunts while Lohengrin lines up a shot.

>>6240532
>>6240534
>>6240572
>>6240642

>Distract the grunts while Lohengrin lines up a shot.

Writing.

>>6240651
“No. Let’s do as Lohengrin suggests. It’s not a good idea to go in guns blazing when we have so little intel to work with.”

“Well, I suppose you’re right,” Siegfried sighed. “Lohengrin, how much time do you—”

Before Siegfried could finish, Tannhäuser cut in. “We’re out of time. They’re on the move.”

“It won’t take long,” Lohengrin asserted confidently. “They’ll be rotting in those steel coffins of theirs soon enough.”

You and Siegfried blitzed down the mountain, heading eastward toward the battlefield. Tannhäuser trailed behind at a safe distance; his location and visual data on the enemies would be paramount if Lohengrin was to have the best chance at landing a fatal shot on multiple targets, and moving ones at that. Unfortunately, the troops at the outpost were still regrouping, so they couldn’t be counted on for a while.

Siegfried strafed to the left. “I’ve got visuals on enemy STCVs!”

“I see them.” You advanced while circling away from him.

As expected, two of the three grunt units were flanking the unknown STCVs, while the remaining one led the charge. If all went well, Siegfried would make contact with the frontmost unit and you with the leftmost (relative to the enemy formation). Now that you were close enough to get a better look at them, the unidentified unit types appeared exceptionally more advanced than regular UHC combat vehicles. For one, even to your untrained eye, it was clear they were equipped with some equivalent of the piledriver mobility system, judging by the four metal rods protruding from their legs. But it didn’t matter. Soon they would either turn to scrap metal or be torn apart in a laboratory back home.

From behind, you heard the roar of a barrage of missiles as they flew overhead. This was Tannhäuser’s signal to engage.

The stench of sulfur unceremoniously wafted into the cockpit. All the same, you jerked the piledriver handles with great force. Once Parsifal, like a lion, leapt into the air, you fired two grappling hooks into the ground, using them as slingshots to propel yourself toward the enemy.

You shifted the weight of your combat vehicle slightly to direct it downward. The enemy came into view, rapidly consuming more and more of your screen, and you opened fire with Parsifal’s twin assault rifles.

~*~*~*~

Three people roll a 1d6. BO3, DC: 2.

Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>6240682

Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>6240682

Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>6240682
ROLLAN

>>6240684
>>6240699
>>6240712
Great work, anons. Down with a fever right now (QM curse), so I'll continue writing tomorrow.

>>6240737
He lied as naturally as he breathed. Don't die.

>>6241882
Not dead.

>>6240737
Your opening salvo hit the mark. Within moments, a flurry of bullets shredded the enemy combat vehicle across its hull and joints, rendering it incapable of escaping your coup de grâce: Parsifal’s fangs—two daggers, each 2.0 metres long, fixed onto retractable mechanical limbs and styled after tarantula fangs—extended, poised to pierce the worn-grey carapace of its prey. At the same time, Tannhäuser’s missiles exploded at the enemies’ feet, forcing them to an abrupt halt. Your target staggered back a few steps. In the midst of its disorientation, your blades made contact. Both pierced through to the other side of the chassis. The ensuing eruption of machine fluid and streams of blood pooling beneath the combat vehicle left no doubt in your mind that the pilot was dead and his STCV out of action.

Siegfried was not so fortunate; whoever he was fighting was a skilled pilot. After a few bouts, however, Siegfried gained the upper hand and damaged one of their legs. The enemy pulled back into a defensive formation, now spearheaded by one of the unknown-type STCVs.

A stalemate—lasting only a second—ensued. Now was Lohengrin’s chance. From the peaks behind, a streak of light shrieked through the air, aiming straight for the combat vehicle with the long-barreled gun. The shot ripped through its body, which immediately buckled and burst into flames.

Moments later, a bloodied hand forced the cockpit open. A man, no older than twenty, fumbled his way out of his STCV, still mostly intact despite the fire, whereupon his comrades moved to shield him: the regular UHC assault units charged at you and Siegfried, while the other unknown-type combat vehicle dashed—no, leapt!?—at Tannhäuser. No one had ever seen a Collective STCV equipped with piledrivers. The stupidity of the manoeuvre was painfully obvious; it didn’t take a genius to predict the trajectory of a bulky STCV in free fall. Tannhäuser wasted no time moving out of the way and unleashed a spray of bullets.

He was as good as dead, you thought. But if before your jaw hung slack at the ridiculousness of it all, it was now on the ground. You heard only a loud boom. Next thing you knew, midway through its path in the air, the STCV had shifted out of Tannhäuser’s line of fire. This signaled a possibility that flooded your stomach with unease: the Collective might now possess combat vehicles with mobility comparable to your own.

>>6242001
Siegfried continued to fight his initial target while the undamaged assault unit charged at you. Both fought with feverish abandon, recklessly taking hits no sane pilot could afford to. Off to the side, Tannhäuser was holding his own, but it was clear that his recon-type combat vehicle was at a stark disadvantage against an offensive-type STCV.

“Lohengrin!” called Tannhäuser. “I need some fire support here!”

“I can’t exactly get a clean shot, y’know.” Lohengrin was repositioning, edging closer to the heart of the action. “Hold on... that injured pilot is doing something to his combat vehicle…”

“What?” Tannhäuser asked.

The rumble of an explosion shook you in your seat. There was nothing left of the fallen unit—not its strange gun, not its pilot, nor itself, save for some charred fragments.

“So this is what they were stalling for,” Siegfried said as he cleaved one of the legs of his opponent in twain.

After multiple exchanges, you managed to unload half a clip of piercing rounds into the enemy cockpit and ended the fight.

The three of you surrounded the remaining unknown-type combat vehicle.

“Stand down, and you may yet live,” said Tannhäuser in the standardised Collective tongue through the amplified speakers of his STCV.

“You’re a fool if you think Collective soldiers fear death,” came the incensed response.

In the midst of the following ideological spiel, just before a proclamation of “taking you devils with me”—an incident of the sort you had read about in reports more times than you’d like to recount—Lohengrin fired another shot and managed to sever the power unit from the rest of the combat vehicle. It went limp instantly.

“So it was there.”

“What the hell? You mean you were just guessing?” Siegfried’s scowl was apparent in his tone. “What if you blew all of us up?”

“I mean... don’t you think they kind of look like our combat vehicles?”

You took a closer look. And you were sure Siegfried and Tannhäuser were doing the same. Lohengrin was correct; there was more than just a passing resemblance.

“Settle down,” Tannhäuser interrupted. “We just got a new order to escort this guy back to base ASAP.”

~*~*~*~

>>6242002
It was going to be a long ride home. By now, the sun had risen. The scent of oil, dirt, and burnt blood still remained in your cockpit. Somehow, it was decided that the “VIP” was to ride in your combat vehicle. Precautions were, of course, taken with whatever was available to ensure that he was both gagged and restrained. At some point during the journey, the gag (a dirty rag tied into a knot and fixed between his teeth) loosened up; and you were only made aware of it when the man coughed. That almost scared you out of your seat more than any heated engagement ever had. You radioed in to momentarily stop the squad. It was going to be hell for you if you allowed him to bite his tongue on your watch.

You folded in the seat and crawled over to the man, who was secured by belts to the inner wall of the cockpit.

“Wait,” he muttered. “I won’t do anything. Keep piloting.”

“That won’t do. What if you bite your tongue?”

“If I was going to do that, don’t you think I would’ve ended my life the moment my STCV lost power?”

You think for a moment. He sounded sincere.

~*~*~*~

>Reapply the gag. You’re not risking it.

>Leave him ungagged. It’s not everyday you get to speak with a member of the Collective.

>Write in.

>>6241930
More on this. I will try to update daily as is the usual rate on the board. But I like to take my time with things and sometimes life gets in the way. I will let you guys know if there should be a prolonged period of time where I cannot update.

>>6242003

>Leave him ungagged. It’s not everyday you get to speak with a member of the Collective.

Very interested in the worldbuilding. Who do we fight for, and against.

>>6242003
>>Reapply the gag. You’re not risking it.
Be a war criminal and break a finger

>Reapply the gag
Sock him in the jaw for good measure. Not sure what above anon is about only breaking a finger.

>>6242003
>Reapply the gag. You’re not risking it.

Don't take the chance. We aren't the interrogator, and hence aren't in charge of building rapport. Get him home alive. He could've been building up the courage for suicide.

>>6242004
Thanks for keeping us informed.

>>6242020
Seems very...86-ish, just with a collectivist human antagonist instead of an AI that eats human brains as the main enemy, and with no racial aspect or major social commentary so far.

>>6242003
>Reapply the gag. You’re not risking it.
if he tells us cool info and then bites his tongue, that's still a loss.

>>6242003
>Reapply the gag. You’re not risking it.

>>6242003
>Leave him ungagged. It’s not everyday you get to speak with a member of the Collective.

>>6242020
+1
its one dude how much trouble can we really get in for just talking with him?

>>6242041
>>6242046
>>6242048
>>6242049
>>6242111

>Reapply the gag. You’re not risking it.

Writing.

>>6242491
Alas, the risk was too great. You sighed and told him, “Sorry, I don’t have any reason to believe a word you say.”

“Fine, do as you’re told.” The man clicked his tongue. “Foolish of me to expect anything from Südhangians…”

He spat the final word like it was a slur. That struck a nerve. Your hands twitched, but you held yourself back; you would not dirty your noble hands by striking him. Perhaps you were the foolish one for humouring the request of an enemy, even if only in thought. You retrieved the rag from his lap and stuffed the knotted portion between his teeth with more force than was necessary. His eyes flared with anger and disdain. Once you tied the two loose ends together at the back of his head, you crawled back to the pilot’s seat.

“We owe you nothing, man of the Collective. Be glad we even bother to speak to you in what is, supposedly, your ‘own’ language.”

~*~*~*~

The battle at Outpost K marked the end of your mission, which was to last two weeks or until you completed your objective: to investigate a recent spike in pilot fatalities around the Nordwand Alps (the native Südhangian name for the Whitehorn Alps), where you and your squad were posted. Within a month, at least three other minor outposts—each manned by no more than a dozen men—had been mysteriously wiped out without a trace. In every case, all STCVs on-site were destroyed in combat and ruined beyond recognition. These were unprecedented losses. And after your encounter with those unknown-type units, you could imagine just how they might have occurred.

In your quarters, you sat in quiet contemplation until a knock on the door caught your attention. You opened it. It was Tannhäuser—or rather, the pilot of the recon-type STCV, Tannhäuser. He was holding a stack of documents.

“Morning, Tristan.”

You got up from your chair and saluted him. “Good morning, Captain Meier.”

“At ease.” He entered the room and handed you approximately a third of the papers. “Please go over this and report to the briefing room in three hours.”

“Understood.”

Captain Meier nodded and promptly left.

“Let’s take a look…” you mumbled to yourself.

~*~*~*~

>>6243732
[CLASSIFIED]
REPUBLIC OF SÜDHANG ARMED FORCES
JUNE 10, REPUBLIC YEAR 176
FROM: Grandmaster of the Knightly Order of Nordwand
TO: WAGNER-1
SUBJECT: On the Recent Outpost K Skirmish and its Implications for the Future of the Republic

BATTLE REPORT
In the early morning of June 6, a squad of five from the United Humanitarian Collective, consisting of three regular assault-type Collective units and two unknown-type units, mounted an attack on outpost K in sector D4 of the Nordwand Alps. The order of battle is as follows…
.
.
.
According to the commanding officer, one of the unknown-type units, henceforth referred to as UNIT-01, possessed a long-barreled gun that could fire a white projectile capable of completely disrupting STCV mobility. Once trapped, a combat vehicle “might as well have been a sitting duck.” This is corroborated by combat footage from some damaged combat vehicles, which could be retrieved due to the prompt intervention of WAGNER-1. We believe that…
.
.
.
Moreover, testimonies from the pilots of WAGNER-1, together with combat footage from Parsifal reveal that the unknown-type units were equipped with legs resembling that of piledrivers. UNIT-02 (the other unknown-type unit), was observed to be able to alter its direction of movement mid-air using a device, which our engineers suspect operates on advanced pneumatics.
.
.
.

AFTERMATH
The three regular assault-types have been transferred to a processing plant to be studied and then recycled. UNIT-01 was blown up by its own pilot, who died in the explosion. UNIT-02 was prevented from initiating its self-destruct sequence by Lohengrin, who severed its power supply unit with a brilliant shot. It is currently being examined in great detail. The pilot was subsequently captured and brought to [REDACTED] for questioning. He identified himself as Gerald Miles and claims to hail from Province 1 of the Collective (formerly known as Anglia). Much remains unknown, but given their superior handling of the unknown-types, we are confident that Miles and the pilot of UNIT-01 belong to an elite force comparable to our own Knights.
.
.
.

CONCLUSION
It is clear from the foregoing that we can no longer take for granted the hitherto technological supremacy of the Republic. It is likely that this new anti-mobility weapon developed by the Collective is in its final stages of testing. We note that, at present, a high level of training is required to operate such weapons effectively; but with time, it is expected that they will only become easier to use. Should they be issued to the rank and file of the Collective military, it would spell utter devastation for our forces; that is, if we are unable to surpass their technological innovation. Recent events make abundantly obvious the seriousness of this threat: a second war is on the horizon.

~*~*~*~

>>6243733
“This was UNIT‑01’s opening shot,” said DrNolte, your battle technician, as she cued the footage.

The first few seconds showed nothing out of the ordinary: the pilot was firing downhill into the darkness. The surrounding landscape was still largely intact, which meant this must have been taken at the start of the skirmish. On the far left of the screen, another Republic STCV came into view. It advanced a few metres before it was hit by what you could only describe as a ghastly white hand, moving so quickly the camera rendered it as a blurry, phantasmal shape. Like a panic‑stricken animal, the STCV began writhing and struggling to break free, only to go up in flames a moment later from a well‑aimed rifle shot. The video came to an abrupt end when a flashing white light engulfed the camera, and the screen went black: “SIGNAL LOST.”

“So,” said Lohengrin, “it’s like a net?”

DrNolte nodded. “Yes, vonEinhorn. That’s precisely what it is.”

“Do we have any way of countering it?” asked Siegfried.

“As of now, not at all. We don’t even know what materials it’s made of. The higher‑ups have ordered everyone to remain completely silent about this for the time being. However…” DrNolte switched to another clip. It was from Tannhäuser.

The rapid aerial maneuvers of UNIT‑02 unfolded before the squad once more. Since you’d managed to retrieve UNIT‑02 largely intact, Dr Nolte noted that it wouldn’t be too difficult to reverse‑engineer those air thrusters of theirs.

However, a caveat was clear to everyone in the room.

“The g‑forces would be too great for regular pilots to handle. Presumably, you’d need at least Knight‑level training to operate it,” you said.

“We’ll figure something out,” DrNolte assured, though her voice wavered slightly.

~*~*~*~

The whole squad was given a few days off to cool down. You returned to your quarters after the meeting. There was a lot on your mind, in particular, the political implications of keeping this information under wraps. After scanning through the report a few more times, you decided to head to the town nearby. A change of surroundings, back to civilian life, would be good, if only for a short while.

~*~*~*~

>Call the others and see if they want to tag along.

>Go by yourself.

>Write in.

>>6243734

>Go by yourself.

Hmmmmmmm, fascinating. A republic yet with knightly orders. Is it simply a way to delineate true elites, or is it something more. And Anglia? Even I can tell that's Britain, so the question now becomes is this is an alternate timeline or the far future?

Also, ADVENTURE TIME!

>>6243734
Okay that's strange, why did the space between some of the names get removed when I copied the text over from notepad++?

It should be "von Einhorn" and "Dr Nolte."

>>6243734
>Go by yourself.

We spend most of our time with our team. Be free.

>>6243734
>Go by yourself.
time to get kidnaaaapped

>>6243739
>>6243750
>>6243752

>Go by yourself.

Locking in with this first. Update will come a little late as I have something important to prepare for tomorrow.

>>6244489

Writing.

>>6245785
You changed out of your uniform and arranged for a driver to chauffeur you to the town. He would pick you up at exactly 2100 later that evening (you had the day off, but that didn’t mean you weren’t expected to report back). Eager for some fresh air, you informed only Captain Meier before leaving immediately.

The car wound through the forest roads. The black alders pierced the blue summer sky like feathered spears and swayed to the tune of the wind. Mountains lined the distant horizon; they were strewn plentifully across all corners of the Republic—this was the source of its strength, and surely where its people inherited their intrepid hardiness. Just as it is impossible for the degenerate to renounce his indulgences in the company of profligates, man, in the presence of sublime nature, invariably imbibes its beauty, seeking within himself a modicum of its vastness and harmony. This was reflected in the attitude toward craftsmanship found in the native faith of the Südhangians: it was said that all things possessed a unique and divine essence, which manifested within the object as its spirit. The goal of the craftsman, then, was to work his genius through the thing and draw out—bring to light—its spirit in truthful fullness. This idea extended to the sphere of human self-development, from which an ethos of unearthing one’s own spirit and discovering its relation to the rest of existence was born. Through fate—or historical happenstance, as the more secular might call it—such a belief came to be deeply embedded in the Südhangian psyche.

You reached the end of the forest in about half an hour. Sunlight, unimpeded by the treetops, flooded the interior of the car as soon as it rounded the last hairpin on the path. The ivory bricks of the town, whose manifold buildings were capped with roofs of ochre, maroon, and azure, shone like the snows from that night of mechanical carnage not so long ago. You requested the driver to drop you near the town centre, where you bade him farewell. Despite the unceasing march of technological progress, many settlements in Südhang (even large portions of the cities) still retained much of their traditional architecture, which dated back at least five centuries.

Marching punctuated the pedestrian chatter. Military presence had increased since your last visit: on every street there were foot soldiers on patrol; occasionally, one or two STCVs could be spotted on the roads. The sight irked you. You had come here to get away from the army, not to be confronted by it wherever you went. But there was no choice. Settlements near the Nordwand Alps—and thus closest to UHC territory—were naturally more fortified. The townsfolk have had to deal with this for almost six decades by now, and most were used to it. You, on the other hand, wanted to quickly find somewhere to sit down.

~*~*~*~

>>6246784
>Go to your favourite bookstore. You haven’t been there in a while and it’d be nice to see if there’s anything new that’d catch your eye.

>Head to the café you frequent. If things are still as they were the last time you visited, there would be free newspapers to read while you sip on some coffee.

>Write in.

I must apologise for the really late update. Found myself in a slump this week.

>>6246785
>Head to the café you frequent. If things are still as they were the last time you visited, there would be free newspapers to read while you sip on some coffee.

We have a few days, may as well enjoy the morning. We were wondering after the implications of being tightlipped about the new weapon.

>>6246786
It happens. At least we got a pretty update out of it.

>>6246785
>Head to the café you frequent. If things are still as they were the last time you visited, there would be free newspapers to read while you sip on some coffee.

>>6246785
>>Head to the café you frequent. If things are still as they were the last time you visited, there would be free newspapers to read while you sip on some coffee.

>>6246785

>Head to the café you frequent. If things are still as they were the last time you visited, there would be free newspapers to read while you sip on some coffee.


Coffee and newspapers.

>>6246793
>>6246797
>>6246849
>>6246898

>Head to the café you frequent. If things are still as they were the last time you visited, there would be free newspapers to read while you sip on some coffee.

Pretty unanimous. Writing.

>>6247039
You decided to head to a café you frequented. It wasn’t too far from where you were. Along the way, you passed by the town hall. A large, white barricade had been erected, cordoning off a section of the wall. The lack of heavy machinery told you this wasn’t construction work. You attempted to peer through the small door used by the workers at the site before a middle-aged man in military garb stopped you.

“This area is restricted, sir. Please be on your way.”

“I was just passing by. What happened here?”

“You haven’t heard the news?”

“Not recently. I’ve been busy, you see.”

“Fair enough. A few days ago, someone, or some group, vandalised the wall back there; they filled it with Collectivist symbols and slogans.”

“That’s pretty bold. Aren’t they afraid they’ll be charged with treason? That’s enough for the courts to lock them up indefinitely.”

“I don’t know. I’m not a Collectivist. You’d have to ask them. Though if I were you, I wouldn’t implicate myself by hanging around their ilk—especially not right now. Rumour has it the UHC is stirring up trouble again. Then again, they’ve never really stopped being trouble. You look like a good man. Can’t be older than twenty. You should live your life while you still can. Who knows? Before long, we might just see each other up north.”

“I’ll take that to heart, sir. And thank you for your service. I’ll be on my way now.”

He nodded, and you walked away. The shadows at your feet stretched far ahead of you and only seemed to lengthen with each step.

~*~*~*~

>>6247143
Most Südhangians got their news from the web or television. But as a Knight, you weren’t allowed to carry civilian phones or computers with you in most military compounds for obvious reasons, and certainly not on missions. Whatever the military provided was also heavily restricted in terms of its access. For one, you were only able to connect to websites on a whitelist. However, since you have always been partial to asceticism and were naturally inclined to embracing it, being isolated from digital “pleasures” and “convenience” meant little to you; you acquired the habit of reading physical newspapers from your father, who had likewise picked it up from your grandfather. In your view, a latent will to creation inhered in the Südhangian essence, which excessive consumption and indulgence would only smother. This wisdom was consistently brought to life through the ages in the myriad folktales of your people: one of the most common diegetic archetypes to be found was that of the artist-deity of dormant genius who, at the cusp of his talent’s flourishing, falls to temptation and loses his gifts, only to be redeemed through a mystical encounter (often after a prolonged period of solitude).

You entered the café and sat at a table next to the counter. The old man who owned the establishment, upon seeing you enter, instructed the barista to prepare your usual order. Then, without a word, he placed a newspaper on your table, casting a smile at you before returning to the back of the shop. He was a veteran of the First War of Resistance and knew of your membership in the Knightly Order of Nordwand. You handed over a bit of cash and began reading.

>>6247146
Your eyes skimmed through most of the articles until you landed on one of interest, titled: “Three suspects apprehended in recent vandalism case confirmed to have ties with Collectivist organisation.” The organisation in question was called the Südhangian Liberation Front (SLF). The name surfaced around forty-five years ago. They were part of a long line of Collectivist political parties and groups that have been around for as long as the ideology itself. All were suppressed following the end of the First War and most dissolved. “Collectivist” quickly came to be synonymous with “traitor” or “treason.” But this hadn’t and would not ever deter those faithful to the movement—the very same one that swept across the entire continent and devoured nations in its wake. The military had dealt a decisive blow to the SLF about a decade ago, whence they went into hiding and began to fade from public consciousness. They had hitherto been the most militant of the Collectivist groups in the Republic. A good number of the articles were dedicated to them, and you furrowed your brow as you read through each and every one of them. For some reason, your thoughts drifted to Miles, whom you had captured nights ago. Like most educated individuals, you knew the basics of Collectivist theory; but, notwithstanding its unfiltered utopianism, you could never truly understand the mind of a Collectivist despite having psychologised many an abstract Collectivist in your life. Your confusion only compounded when it came to Südhangian Collectivists, who did not have to suffer Collectivist indoctrination unlike their UHC counterparts.

“First the outpost K incident, and now this?” you muttered to yourself. “If this keeps up… We’ll have to fight a war within before the UHC even makes a move. And when they do come, we’ll be weakened from all the infighting.”

Sighing, you cut that train of thought before it got out of hand. You of all people knew it was only a possibility. There was no reason to believe the SLF had what it took to move beyond petty vandalism and the crudest acts of political violence. Moreover, internal affairs were outside your jurisdiction. You were a knight and your enemy was beyond the Nordwand Alps. This was a matter for other arms of the military to handle, just as they had done so in the past. In the midst of your quandary, a man approached you unnoticed.

“Excuse me, sir. May I sit with you?”

“Sure?” You put down the papers, eyeing him with suspicion. “Who might you be?”

“Thank you. The name’s Florian. Florian Weidemann. Nice to meet you.”

He held out his hand. With a little reluctance, you got up to shake it.

~*~*~*~

>Give a fake name.

>Divulge only your first name.

>Give your full name.

>Write in.

>>6247149
>>Divulge only your first name.

So the UHC took over most of Europe at least.

>>6247149
>Divulge only your first name.
keep things casual

>>6247149
>Divulge only your first name.

>>6247161
Maybe. Most of the continent at least, but we can't be sure this is actually Earth. Could be a far flung future, another planet with the inherited place names, language, and cultures of old Earth. At the very least, we seem to be either the not!GermanSwiss, or not!Austrians or some Germanic population that migrated or always was native to the south of the alps in what maybe northern Italy/Lombardy, hence Südhang (south slope).

>>6247161
>>6247262
>>6247272

>Divulge only your first name.

Writing.

>>6247928
“You can call me Tristan.”

Florian seated himself across you. He revealed himself to be ex-military personnel, discharged after developing a neurological ailment that periodically assailed his forearm, ankles and extremities with irregular bouts of pain and numbness. You felt it doubly tragic when you learned that he was, because of this, robbed of the chance to enroll in the Collegium Belli—the College of War, alma mater of all knights of the Republic—despite having already secured a place.

“Tell me, Tristan. Why do you think the Republic has endured for this long, while the old nations either crumbled in a matter of months or capitulated without a shred of resistance?”

“On land, we are fortunate to be blessed with the protection of the Nordwand Alps; at sea, we have been able to rely on the Island Confederation of Huang Dao to bolster our naval forces. It is also a fact that Südhangian technology has heretofore been unmatched by the UHC. We were the first to deploy STCVs on the battlefield. And it was precisely this that allowed us to turn the tides against the Collective hordes during the First War.”

“And internally? All Südhangians know of the surrender of our northern cousins beyond the mountains. Why didn’t we suffer the same fate?”

“Well…” You stared at your coffee, now three-quarters gone, and chose your words with care. “I’d like to think it’s because of our spirit—it's antithetical to the foundations of Collectivist thought: Collectivism conceives of human beings, notwithstanding the various differences among them, as possessing, at bottom, a selfsame human essence, which is, in their own words, ‘to be liberated and free to flourish.’ This is to be accomplished by uniting humanity as one people—one man—whence the ‘inner contradictions’ between individuals and the human collective will be eradicated. To our ancestors, though, such a notion would have been absurd. The idea of an undifferentiated ‘human essence’ is utterly foreign to the Südhangian soul; so, to us, this liberation appears no different to annihilation, a great razing. And indeed, we have seen the supposed ‘liberation’ the UHC had brought to countries which did not take too kindly to their ambitions for world unification. The Nordhangians abandoned the faith once shared between our two peoples a century before the war, leaving a void in their national consciousness. I’m fuzzy on the specifics, but I know that void was eventually filled by the ideals of Anglian Humanism. And that paved the historical way to the fall of Nordhang.”

“Well said.” A glint of satisfaction stirred in Florian's eyes, only to fade away a moment later. “Then I believe you understand what is at stake, should this spirit begin to dissolve?”

Your eyes instinctively drifted to the folded newspaper on the table. You took a sip and felt the warmth pool in your chest. “Suppose I do. Why tell me this, of all people?”

>>6249563
Florian avoided the question. Instead, he reached into his inner pocket and drew out a small pamphlet, placing it on the table. The eagle emblem of the Republic was emblazoned on the cover, and beneath it the words: “The Gipfel Society.”

“I’d best get going. It’s getting late. I hope we will meet again, Tristan.”

He left before you could get a final word in. You watched as his figure vanished into the streets. When he was gone, you further examined the pamphlet. It was about fifteen pages long. At the back was written an address pointing to a street sequestered in the southwest quarter of the town; below that was a date: eight o’clock on the last Friday of the month. Its significance struck you at once—it was the sixtieth anniversary of the Republic’s triumph over the Collective during the First War of Resistance.

~*~*~*~

“Behold.” Dr Nolte pulled away the tarp with a theatrical flourish to reveal two familiar forms beneath.

“That was fast! It’s only been, what? Two weeks?” Jan, pilot of Siefried, commented.

“All of the Republic’s top minds have been working around the clock to produce these prototypes.”

Indeed, before your eyes were a thruster, similar to the ones on UNIT-02; and a long-barreled gun, outwardly identical to the one possessed by UNIT-01.

With a hint of pride in her voice, Dr Nolte said, “We more or less managed to fully reverse-engineer the pneumatic thrusters on Miles’ combat vehicle. The net gun on the other hand…” She paused, then gave a dry chuckle. “We still have no idea how those metallic nets are even made. For now, we’ve substituted them with a high-tensile alloy mesh. Crude, but it’ll be enough for training purposes. Speaking of which…” She turned to Captain Meier. “The brass has given the go-ahead to begin field testing. Captain, if you will…”

“Of course.” Captain Meier stepped forward. “We’ll be engaging in a series of simulation battles with WAGNER-2. Only one squad will be issued a net gun, but all units will get to use the new thrusters. Since we’re here early, we get first pick. Gun or no gun?”

“I want to try it out!” The eagerness was palpable in von Einhorn’s voice.

“Easy, Konrad.” Jan smirked. “I say it’s more important that we learn to defend against the net gun first before we start playing with it.”

Captain Meier turned to you. “What do you think, Tristan?”

~*~*~*~

>Side with Siegfried. There’s no guarantee that the Republic will be able to reproduce the ammunition for the net gun.

>Take the net gun. Understanding how it works in practice may offer insight into how to counter a squad using it.

>Write in.

>>6249564
>Side with Siegfried. There’s no guarantee that the Republic will be able to reproduce the ammunition for the net gun.

The enemy has a leg up on production of the weapon and the stockpiling of ammunition. Even should we discover how to produce the net, we'll be outgunned. It is better that we first focus on how to avoid being hit by it, before using it. Any insights gleaned on its use or weaknesses can be told to us by our counterparts, but learning to defend against it can only be done by building the muscle memory and tactics and procedures.

>>6249564
Do the net guns have noticeably different weight? Moving around with fake loads might simulate the enemy movement better.

>>6249564
>Side with Siegfried. There’s no guarantee that the Republic will be able to reproduce the ammunition for the net gun.

>>6249791
If they did, the characters wouldn't know at this juncture.

>>6249888
Huh? We can't grab a bunch of scrap to approximate the same weight distribution? Then carry those instead of the replicas with the new thrusters

>>6249924
Maybe I didn't understand your initial post. I was under the impression that you were asking if the weight of the net gun replica along with the substitute ammunition differed significantly from the real thing. I replied: we (the Republic) can only make an educated guess at the approximate weight of the weapon, and so would not know exactly if the "net guns have noticeably different weight."

From your response here, are you suggesting that they just carry around a bunch of scrap metal to simulate having a gun? If so, I don't know what to say anon.

>>6249926
>>6249791
>>6249924
I was checking if the net guns are weighted substantially different from the standard weapons we are familiar with. If not, then

>>6249564
>Side with Siegfried. There’s no guarantee that the Republic will be able to reproduce the ammunition for the net gun.

>>6249564

>Take the net gun. Understanding how it works in practice may offer insight into how to counter a squad using it.

Figure out how it works, we figure out how to beat it.

>>6249663
>>6249815
>>6250019
>>6250041

>Side with Siegfried. There’s no guarantee that the Republic will be able to reproduce the ammunition for the net gun.

Writing.

>>6250400
Sorry guys. Something happened, so this next update might take a while to arrive.

>>6251851
That's alright, thanks for telling us OP