a fascinating aspect of magitechnical conflicts is the impact of faction propaganda! propaganda is an extremely useful tool but even moreso when you can manipulate reality directly.
need to gain more of a foothold in rebellious districts? just cook up a psychoarcane contagion to zombify the local population - it's a perfect pretext for establishing "healing facilities", "safe zones", and generally bolstering constructed religion! especially when you have enough necromancers to ward your "faithful". magical contagions are a versatile way to destabilize, depopulate, or solidify a region!
are your pilots and handlers tired of gunning down unarmed civilians? do they demand an actual challenge? simply use your mentalists to foment stochastic attacks from undesirables against your own troops to keep them focused. or, employ sleep conditioning and hypnotics to ensure your pilots can't tell the difference between their dreams of a fair fight and the mundanity of genocide.
do you struggle with keeping infantry motivated in the face of harsh environmental conditions? work with your company witch to convert the worst infantry into the compliant and ever-watchful combat doll, immune to exposure and mundane pestilence. then bestow accolades on their units and promise your soldiers the chance at a transformation of their own! the committed will outdo themselves at the prospect of becoming a porcelain unfeeling killer, and one can deal with the less agreeable more directly.
the competent tactician understands how to apply mages outside of a direct sortie - battles are started and won in the mind!
She sat in her Knight, recounting the number of ways she was fucked.
A 40 MM shot through the right leg, taking out a core there.
Another through the left arm, ripping through the machinery that kept her balanced.
A third through the head, blinding her, and killing the Knight's second core.
She'd stumbled through a few more minutes before catastrophic failure, and shortly became overwhelmed with stimuli without the A.I. to translate. She couldn't disconnect her DCC anymore than she could scratch her nose.
One system at a time, the knight had failed, with her trying her best to force them to stay functional. Movement, her HUD, life support, ammunition supply, and finally, her gun control. She held onto that last fragment of working systems, that last finger, the last little line of nerve endings and sensation to the outside world.
She was going to die. She could feel it. Without life support, the sealed system had about ten minutes of air. She was down to the final two.
She couldn't hear anything. See anything. Feel anything, except what was on her finger. The only thing there was the trigger. She could pull, but she had no idea what she was pointing it at.
Maybe, she hoped, it was pointed at herself.
She could feel the seconds ticking by, even without a clock. Better to go on my own terms... better to go on my own terms... she kept telling herself, staring at the barrel in her minds eye. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. Her heart was pounding faster than it ever had before. This was the only solution. This was it. There was nothing else, just her and the gun. This is it this is it this is it fuck I don't want to go like this I don't want to fight people anymore I'll be a good girl please I don't want to do this there's no choice fuck I want to go home I want to see my handler I want to not be here anymore anywhere than here please FUCK.
She pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
She screamed. The last connection was dead. She was alone in her own mind. She couldn't see. No, wait, light... there's light! Had it worked? She still couldn't blink. An angel stood above her, dressed in blue combat fatigues, a cigarette hanging from her mouth. She held a DCC cable. Her own DCC cable. The angel leaned down and grabbed the pilots head and pulled it forward, exposing the CNCS on her neck. There was no sound as the cable, the second one, popped out. Her senses snapped back. Screaming in pain. The dozens of bruises she could suddenly feel. Another popped out, and the pilot could start to twitch, reaching for the angel.
Too confused to realize for a moment too long.
She was not an Angel. She was a handler. And her fatigues proved she was from the other side. A new DCC shoved into the pilots port and she grunted as her ability to move dulled again, before she got any coordination. But the handler left the top two ports open. One that had connected her cognition to the Knight, and would have allowed them to talk mentally. The other, the one that let her feel sensation and hear in the physical world.
The handler smirked at the pilot as the last cable popped out and was replaced. "Well well, little ant, it seems I've got you all in my web now, hunh...? You can't even move, can you?" She gripped the pilots wrist tightly and lifted it until her shoulder was screaming, her head lolling on her neck. The handler let the pilot fall back into the chair with a flop and she laughed cruelly.
The handler pulled out a knife from her boot with practiced ease, and pressed it gently against the pilot's cock, smirking as she watched the pilot's eyes fill with fear. "Aren't you a pathetic little whore?" She whispered, into the mute pilot's ear. "You can feel it, can't you? You're getting hard just from a fucking knife."
The pilot could feel it running up the suit a few inches, tracing her. Her eyes crossed as it rested on the tip, and it suddenly didn't seem to matter whether she could see or not.
Everything was focused on the pain there, on the knife, on the handler's hand on her hip, gripping her so tightly the nerves were screaming.
The knife slid up, cutting the latex off the tip of the dick with practiced ease, and pressed down into the stomach, tracing the curves of the belly before slicing through the latex there. "Such pretty skin. Look at you, pretty girl. I'm impressed. They really make sure you stay soft and smooth, don't they? They have to make sure the suit gets a good seal, after all." Her finger slipped into the hole above the belly and pulled, stretching it wider, then down.
Down over the shaft and down to the taint. The skin there seemed to gasp, having been released from it's moisture locked prison, slick with sweat. She let it go and it snapped into position on the taint, causing the nerves to flare in pain.
"There. A nice little make-shift cockring for the pretty girl. Such a big important ace pilot" She said mockingly. "Look at you, twitching. God, you're such a stupid pilot." She pulled a breath through her cigarette and grabbed the pilot's hair, yanking her in for a kiss. Smoke invaded her lungs, and they spasmed, trying to cough around the handler's lips. All automatic processes. She held the pilot there, lengthening the kiss, breathing in time with her, before finally letting go and breathing in a shaky breath of her own.
She leaned down and kissed the pilots belly, leaving a gob of saliva there. She looked up at the pilot’s eyes and grinned, suddenly eager as she leaned away slightly, taking another drag from the cigarette. She blew it into the pilots face and pressed the cigarette into the pilots body, smirking as it hissed, watching the pilot’s eyes squeeze against the pain. The handler tossed the cigarette to the side.
She giggled, then, as she saw the pilot's twitching body. "Looks like you're enjoying yourself, hunh? You're leaking. Your body wants this, you fucking whore." She grabbed the pilots hair and roughly pulled her out of the chair, throwing her onto the slanted ground of the knight's cockpit back first. "Maybe I should give you just a little bit of movement, don't you think? You've got six ports. First two, all about cognition and sensation.
"But the next two, well... the first one is all about communication and upper body movement. The next one is about lower body." She pressed her foot into the pilot's cock and laughed as it twitched. "I don't really want to hear a dumb bitch like you talking. I don't give a fuck about hearing your thoughts and feelings. But maybe it could be fun to watch your legs squirm." She sheathed her knife back in her boot.
The handler grabbed the pilot's suit and yanked on it, and for a moment she strained. It popped with a stretching rip and she yanked it down to the pilots wrists, exposing her entire top half. Her rough, calloused fingers gripped the pilots tit gently, surprise spreading across her face. "You're so soft..." The fingers pressed even more gently against the nipples, and the handlers wide eyes flicked up to the pilots.
The fingers pinched brutally and her expression turn to glee. She leaned back, breathing heavy for a moment. "Fuck you're so pretty." Her fingers fumbled with the top half of her fatigues before pulling them off and tossing them to the side, exposing a well muscled body, her abs visible below the cropped tank top and modest tits. She pulled that off next, but she didn't toss it away.
Instead, she grabbed the pilot's cheeks and squeezed, forcing her lips open and shoved the tank top in. The pilot could taste the salty sweat, the reek of several days unwashed. The handler was shaking as she turned the pilot over and whispered. "I'm going to undo them both, ant. Fight back for me, will you? I enjoy the hunt."
Both cables popped out of the pilots back at the same time, and the muscles spasmed as she tried to control them, tried to use this one chance to surprise the handler. She stumbled to her feet and put her fists up in a wild swing, but the latex slowed her down, half trapping her. The handler simply caught it and flung the fist down with a laugh.
Another fist swung wildly, almost fixing the suit this time, and she dodged it. A third, this one more coordinated, hit the handler square in the face. The handler grabbed the wrist of the offending fist and lifted. Her other hand swung in for two quick, heavy punches into the pilots side, knocking the wind out of her.
She tossed the pilot to the floor and touched her cheek with surprise. "Well well. Ant has a bite." She stepped on the pilots ankle as she tried to get up, and leaned down, grabbing the pilot's wrists, pulling the shorter girl taut like a string. "You're so weak, ant. You weren't made for battle. You were made for this." Her free hand grabbed the pilot's tit and squeezed tightly. "Look at yourself. Look at yourself!" The pilot complied, her breathing coming in quick from fear. "Good girl..." The fingers swirled on her areola delicately and she moaned involuntarily. "You're dripping. From me."
It was true. Little driblets of precum were falling onto the cold steel floor. Tears soon followed. "Good girl..." The handlers breathing was coming fast now. "I'm going to prove to you that you aren't made for war." Her hand let go of the tit and pulled the knife of the boot again. The pilot shivered as the knife pressed against her. "Let me hear your pretty little voice, ant."
The knife's edge pressed harder against her butt and she whimpered. "Louder." She forced the whimper to be louder, terror building as she felt it begin to cut the latex. "Louder!" She cried as she practically screamed, begging through the cloth in her mouth. The knife stopped, and came up to her face.
"Lick it." She stuck her tongue out but couldn't quite reach the blade. "Tsk. You're not trying hard enough." She stuck her tongue out even further, whimpering in fear. The edge barely graced her tongue. "Good girl. How does your sweat taste, princess?" The knife pulled away and resheathed into the boot. The fingers slipped into the hole made by the knife and pulled it open, ripping the suit.
"Fuck... I need you so badly..." The handler was practically panting. "Fuck, you're softer than a fucking baby," her rough hand glided on the pilot's ass before gripping it, pulling on it tightly. She laughed as the hole twitched. "Whore. You've been used before, haven't you?" Her thumb pressed on it and the pilot moaned again, her abs clenching. She pressed her fingers against the girls taint, wordless for the first time.
The moan was more pronounced. ".... louder." She whispered as she pressed again. The girl complied willingly, almost reverently. "Louder!" She commanded, popping the thumb in as she rubbed.
The pilot started shaking as she moaned fervently into the tank top stuffing her mouth, her hips twitching, rubbing the tip of her dick against the ground.
"Good girl..." She let go of the pilots wrists and leaned back a little. The pilot was too surprised to do anything as she heard the belt buckle pop open. "This is all you're good for, princess." The girl turned to look and a dripping pussy greeted her. A huge strap was being pulled on, pulled from one of the pockets on the combat pants.
The pilots breath hitched, shock spreading across her face, but the Handler smirked at her and grabbed her legs, flipping her onto her back. The pilot didn't seem to realize that her hands were free and was keeping her wrists together above her head. "Cute... you're so cute..." She pulled the pilots legs up and she seemed to realize what was coming and closed her eyes in anticipation and looked away. She flinched at the strap slapped against her dick, dwarfing it. "Look at you... you're so perfect..." She rubbed the tip of the strap into the pilot's dick, gathering the precum that was going to waste there.
The pilot looked down and gaped at the thing. Her eyes widened as her legs were lifted higher and the tip of the strap tilted down, scraping down her entire length before resting against her hole, clearly too big. Her breath quickened as the pressure increased, and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Then she grunted as it suddenly slid in, her eyes popping open in shock.
"I can't believe it fit..." The handler murmured. She kissed the pilots calf and pressed it in deeper, slowly, bit by bit. "You really were made for this... Nod your head, ant."
The pilot nodded without even thinking, too lost to realize what she was doing. She moaned as it pressed in even further, hitting her prostate, and her eyes crossed. The handler smirked. "Right there, hunh?" She reached into her combat pants for a moment and pulled out a marker. "Right... there, hunh?" She pulled out and shoved it back in right onto the same spot. The girl's entire body arched. "Answer me, Ant. There?" She pressed again and the pilot moaned as she nodded. "Good girl." She slid in further watching her pilot squirm under her with glee. "What a good princess. You're almost there." The girl was letting out a high pitched whine as she got closer and closer to the base, her eyes shut as she tried to not think.
The handler kissed the pilots calf again as she bottomed out the strap, pressing their thighs together. "What a stupid bitch," she whispered. "So easy. So simple. You think this is about you? It isn't. This is about me. This is about you performing for me, you stupid slut." She grabbed the tank top and pulled it out of the pilots mouth. "Moan for me, whore."
"W-wait! I c-cant! nnng!!!" The handler pulled the strap back out bit by bit, making her whimper. "Please!"
"Please what? I don't listen to pilots." The handler pressed on the girls prostate gently.
"Please! Please! I'll do anything!"
"Tell me you're my princess."
"I AM! I'M YOUR PRINCESS!"
"Then cum for me, and prove it, whore."
She did, splattering her chest with clear fluid, nearly screaming as she came, her entire body shaking.
"Good girl. Princesses don't pilot knights. Princesses cum for me." The handler pulled out of the limp pilot and put her soggy tank back on.
She pulled a radio out of her pocket. "This one's ready. She'll cooperate. Won't you, princess?"
The pilot's hazy, blissed out answer was more than clear; "Of course."
"...Seraphim! Seraphim, this is Pulsar! Come in immediately!"
Pulsar paced frantically, hand to her headset, in the "command building", a run-down adobe structure with rain steadily dripping into the buckets placed at the most inconvenient possible spots on the stone tile floor. She kicked one, and it toppled sideways, sloshing water over the floor and some desk jockey's boots. She ignored his glare.
They'd been supposed to intercept 3 minutes ago, and it wasn't like regions of ramshackle villages like this had any dedicated defensive measures. The local council just paid mercs like Pulsar's team to patrol around and hoped they scared off raiders or were lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. Pulsar wasn't feeling real lucky right at that moment. "Private Seraphim, so help me God if you don't-" Finally, FINALLY, her radio crackled, and a groggy voice muttered,
"Hey, boss, morning, chill the fuck out or something. What are we working with here, anyway..."
"It's a few dozen shard drones, again, 60 klicks south-south-east, whoever's camped out in the canyons is still trying to catch us off guard. Which is apparently working, by the way? Do you want to explain why you weren't up on time?"
"Hey, Pulsar, just, like, relax or something. Remember last night? You were all, Oh, let's just watch some TV and cuddle, and then you ended up begging me to fuck your brains out. You were plenty laid back after that."
"I did not - "
"That kind of exercise tires a girl out, ya know."
"Private, this is an open channel - "
"Private, you don't outrank me anyway, so just be a good girl and calm the fuck down."
Right as Pulsar was about to scream into her headset, an indistinct tremor went through the air, followed by a slight rumbling under Pulsar's feet, and another, quieter voice joined the radio, "Torque here - excuse me misses, apologies for interrupting, but Seraphim's all ready for takeoff - antigrav just kicked in and jets are about to redline. Standard cocktail, Pulsar? Anything nearby on radar?"
"Seraphim, you're cleared for takeoff." As the roar of jet engines filled the air, Pulsar smiled, "And, Torque - give her double. Pulsar out."
Nebula had never really thought much about joining the army.
Nebula hadn't thought about joining the army when she was very young. She remembered wanting to be something pink, like a fairy godmother or a magical princess.
Nebula hadn't thought about joining the army when she was in grade school, when -̶̳͓̔̄̑͑.̷̴̨̨̟̼̪̘͓̖͔̳̄͛̽̈́̈́̋͝ͅ)̴̧͎̥͙͙̈̐̿̇͜ã̷̡̞̟̖̺͎͂̓͛`̶̛̛͚̼͈͇̒̌!̴͙̣̖̪͔̦̋͛̀̎̌͒#̶̞̤̣͈̈́̕>̷̩̱̈́̌.̴̘͔͓̗̆̋̒͝͠,̶̪͑≮̭̲̝̻͖̆̊̃͆̄̈͜ ̴̪̪̱̦͂w̸̞̼͖̄ ȟ̸̛͔̖͍̗͇̘̇͛̐͘ÿ̷̲͔̳́̑̂̌ ̵̨̢̦̼͚̟̇̃w̸̢̡͇̒ h̶̨̜̞̉̅̾̈́̃ y̶̧̧̮̣͓̹̑͐͒ ̸̤͓̼̓ w̷̨̢̨̗̠͙̋̄ĥ̴̻̩̯̱̌̊̎̊ y̶̲̙̳̳̒͜ ̸̙̺̜̬̻̌͗͠w̵̢̝̖̹̯̓h̷̩͔̺̼͇̋͆́̕͘͜ỳ̵̫̖̥̙̄ ̷͆͒̊̃͘ͅ:̷̢͇̬̲̥̞̉͑;̴̠̕ͅ"̸̨̨͕̘̻͆̀͋͋͝\̷̩͊̈́̽|̶̵͚̹͖̝̍͋̎̑̔̕͝͝%̶͖͈̲̌̍́͝
Nebula hadn't thought about joining the army in high school, although she didn't think much at all around then. That made her grades bad. People would ask her if she was okay for a while, but eventually her grades got better and they left her alone.
Nebula hadn't thought about joining the army when she went to prom. She did think about the boy holding her hand - why did she have to wear a suit and he a dress? - because he was nice and made her not feel anything for a while, though he never listened when she told him to stop. But nobody was perfect, after all...
Nebula hadn't thought about joining the army when she got accepted to college. She'd just taken the first one that accepted her. Her advisor had looked at Nebula sideways, and asked if she didn't want to take some time to think about it? She didn't see the point, though. The boy was upset, but she didn't think about that either.
Nebula hadn't thought about joining the army in her first year of college, since she was too busy worrying about the Affinity Assessment Automaton. She had heard they used some sort of machine to look inside of your mind, and that terrified her for some reason, even though it was supposed to find a good job for people. She would spend days and days trying to find any kind of document about how the Automaton was supposed to work, but to no avail.
Nebula hadn't thought about joining the army after the end of the first year, because she had just seen the Affinity Assessment Automaton. She had cried in the nurse's arms before the scan, and he had looked very confused and distinctly uncomfortable. The scan itself wasn't anywhere near what she had expected, just a camera pointed at her head. It took some pictures and that was that. A classmate had told her she should get an email with the available tracks for her, but the nurse wouldn't let her go home. A blonde woman in a suit came into the room, and asked her a lot of strange questions, like do you ever hear voices when you're alone? do you ever feel like you are a different person? Nebula didn't want to think about the questions, so she just answered "no" to them all until the woman stopped asking and frowned at her. Nebula didn't say anything else and they let her go home.
Nebula hadn't thought about joining the army in her second year of college, because she got her assessment email and was studying to become an accountant. They made good money and didn't have to make many decisions and Nebula was just fine with that.
Nebula hadn't thought about joining the army when the boy came to her school in the middle of the second year. He looked much better, muscular and trim, and was wearing a frightening looking uniform, all in grey with silver trim and black shiny boots. He wanted to get dinner so Nebula agreed, and he asked her a lot of questions she didn't know anything about. So, Nebula, you remember when we would talk about your `friends'? Turns out you're special! There's a really unique opportunity that I want to talk about, if you're interested? She told him she just wanted to be an accountant and not make decisions and he told her to think about it a little. Later he didn't listen to her, and he left her alone in her dorm after making her promise to think about it.
Nebula hadn't thought about joining the army when the boy came to her school near the start of the third year. He looked much better, muscular and trim with some serious looking scars on his face and arms, and was wearing a familiar Expeditionary Force's uniform, all in grey with silver trim and black shiny boots. He wanted to get dinner so Nebula agreed, and he asked her a lot of questions and seemed a little angrier than she remembered him. Don't you remember? I came to talk to you about a job. Did you just forget entirely? She didn't really care about that and told him so, and he got very still and said, Don't you know you can't be an accountant if you can't remember important conversations? Later he didn't listen to her , but Nebula was sort of used to that since a lot of other people in her classes didn't listen to her either. He stayed in her dorm and took her to the advisor the next day, then the doctor, then the advisor again. He left the next day and told her to expect company, but they'll take good care of you.
Nebula hadn't thought about joining the army when the women came to her school near the start of the third year. They both wore Expeditionary Force uniforms, all in grey with silver trim and black shiny boots, and they told her to come with them. Nebula refused, and they dragged her outside into a car as she cried for help. Nobody came, but nobody listened to her when she cried, so she wasn't very surprised.
Nebula hadn't thought about joining the army when she woke up in the room. It was cold, and the air was dry, and everything was a uniform shade of white. Food came through the single door sometimes, all bland white mush. Nobody came or spoke to her at all.
Nebula hadn't thought about joining the army when she heard the voice. Hey. Where are we? She wondered if she was imagining things, and the voice said, No, dumbass. Focus. Where are we? Nebula didn't wan't to focus, and when the voice pressed her she started to cry. After a while, the door opened, and the boy came in. The voice said, Oh no, no no no no - but Nebula stopped paying attention. The boy asked, What's wrong, Nebula? and she told him about the voice. He was very kind and listened to her and took her to a room with a blonde woman in a suit. The woman put a helmet with wires and lights sticking out of it on her head and told her to take deep breaths and
Constellation was FURIOUS. That fucking little bitch had had the Expeditionary Forces kidnap them, and now they were doing some weird kind of fucked up experiment? What the - Oh hello! Oh god what the fuck is happening here? Why can I see you? I don't know! Do you see - Activating shard neural link - A sudden *crack* and Constellation saw a runway before her. A sudden *crack* and Nebula saw a long, concrete strip before her. Everything suddenly started to move -
Nebula thought about joining the army almost every day, now, it felt like. She still stayed in the white room, and spent most of the time staring blankly at the walls. Mostly she would see Constellation in the wall and she talked to her, and they'd chat about the game they played where they pretended to be a family and had a dog and a horse. Sometimes the boy came in and talked to her about how she was doing really well and she was getting better so quickly, and wouldn't it be great to join the Expeditionary Force soon?
Sometimes she talked to the blonde woman in the suit about scary dreams she had on occasion, when she and Constellation and some other girls were birds and they would rip and tear together through metal and wires and bone and flesh and concrete and lead, and she would feel this desperate pleasure as she ripped into people who cried for mercy and cried for their mothers and cried for their lives.
Sometimes she talked to the blonde woman in the suit about the boy, because he didn't listen to her, but the blonde woman told her she shouldn't think too much about it because boys will be boys.
Nebula finally joined the army! They gave her her own shiny uniform, all in grey with silver trim and black shiny boots. She liked the uniform because it made her look like everyone else. They told her she was a Shard Pilot now, with Constellation and the other girls, and that she was a valued member of the Expeditionary Force. Constellation said it didn't really matter so Nebula didn't think much about it either. The boy still didn't listen to them, but the blonde woman called someone and got them sent a little dog of their very own. Things were looking up overall! The army wasn't so bad!
