The Project had ended, and was forgotten about almost as quickly as it came into being. Such was the way in The Company, things moved fast.
There was however, the question as to what to do about....him. It was answered by the same intelligences that covered it all up to begin with. He would be as anyone else in The Company.
He would put in work.
His first day was not going so well.
As in, at the moment he was perched on the lip of some sort of crater in a hellish no man's land made even worse by the cacophony of inhuman roars that surrounded his position.
His position, and another man's.
Both men were in full Armor. Impressive suits of deep black that looked like some mate between impossible and the humanoid form. The man doing his best not to be seen across from Dillon wore an Armor much more impressive than the other. On his collar was the three bars of sergeant.
Two more bars then the lone singular one Dillon wore on his collar of Private. Now, the low man on the totem pole. First day of work, brand spanking new Armor so fresh it still smelled clean despite being stuck down in the mud.
This was the relief that came for Sergeant Maxwell Stuart, when no one else would. When even the smartest of intelligences told him to just die. Not that this was a problem anymore at The Company. They had long since found death redundant, and mostly eliminated it from it's employees.
The idea of death still lingered in Max's mind though. And even if it had happened to him 23 times before today, he still clung to it defiantly.
And now his defiance rested not just with him, but with this unknown Private that shared his hole for now. One with a call sign that bore no prior combats. The only thing to mark the man once known as General, the name 'Variable'.
"War, war never changes." The Private spoke up first, in the quiet before the storm. The link between the two Armored men made it not vocal, but something of pure thought being passed back and forth.
"...What?" Max responded back as the gold visor of his mask turned to fully look at the other man.
"Ron Perlman. Fallout' War never changes....I was just wondering how many other poor f*ckers like us have been stuck in some hole with enemies all around them..." The Private's visor never left from looking at the lip of their hole. As if just waiting for something to pop over. But Max saw even despite his all, the Private was much too....comfortable.
The oddness of the man speaking this way struck Max sharply, but somehow it melted away into somewhat casualness. His mind felt cooler as it calmed. The idea of death suddenly at least a pace back. "Hopefully, not many with this kind of enemy..." A thought of laughter after. Matched by the other man easily.
A bit more silence, just between the two of them. Outside of their hole, the whole world seemed to scream at something. But in that crater, it was calm.
"No one else came when I called for aid..." Max commented over to the man, a touch of scornful pride in the fake tone.
"I did."
"Yes, you did. Private Variable....Funny. So who is Private Variable?"
"You want to know my story, Sergeant?"
"Yes."
"Alright....One story, then we have to put in work."
And with that, Private Variable began to tell a completely bullsh*t story.
——————————————————
The scene was definitely not a crater on some unknown world.
Now it was the golden age of sharp beats and colorvision TV. Earth, 1970s. As a quartet of men stood on a stage in a typical fashion of a band. There was a lead singer, who had way too much hair. A bassist who was rocking a pretty decent 'fro. A guitarist that could of used a shave. And a drummer....Who was in all black Armor, just as he was in that crater. Except this time he wore a bad wig of long black hair.
It was that Armored man that began the beat with a steady tap of drumsticks to skin. The lead singer leaned into the mic, and began to speak.
"You ready Steve?"
"Uh huh..." Answered the guitarist with a showy nod.
"Andy?"
"Yeah?" Answered the bassist with the same kind of nod.
"Mick?"
The camera centered on the golden visor of the drummer.
"...My name's not Mick. I've told you guys this a thousand times. My name is Variable. I'm the guy in the Armor. The drummer."
This apparently was quite confusing to the other three in the band. So the man in Armor just stood up and tossed his drum sticks down on the ground.
"Whatever. I'm gonna go kill Demons for no other real reason because I can..."
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It was now that the story was interrupted by Max. Thankfully before it went any further.
"Wait, Wait. That's, Sweet."
"I know, thank you." Answered the Private without a pause. The joke apparently not hitting Max.
"No, Sweet....the band. That's the opening to Ballroom Blitz. The song. And you said you were in Armor..."
"I know, I was part of Sweet. And I was born, in Armor."
"When were you born?" Max asked the Private, critically.
"1980." Answered the Private without hesitation, even if he knew his BS had just been foiled.
"Yeah..." Max rumbled something akin to a laugh between them.
"Alright, alright. Let's put in work. We got a long road ahead of us. You ready?" Sudden shift, turning from friend to soldier. The gold visor finally looked on over to Max.
The Sergeant felt a rush of life come to his mind. Pinned under the unseen gaze of the Private seemed to be worse than any officer he could remember. He nodded, slowly. Ready for what may come. Form eased just barely higher, on his end of the crater.
Both men rose as one. Rifles shouldered and aimed out into what appeared to be a never ending field of motion. Uncountable numbers of beasts borne into hellish shapes of flesh moved out there.
And it was into that horde that both men began firing. Impossibly technology sending needles of metal out fast as they could physically be. Force enough to send demonic forms into nothing more then scraps and debris.
It just drew the attention of it. Dozens fell in that first barrage, but there were hundreds behind them to take their place. They charged the hill in one smooth curl of motion. More fell, but their kin just trampled them down in their rush to get to the two armored men.
A roar started between those two. A sound of pure emotion as the wave of hellish flesh grew closer and closer even with their best efforts. The men were pushed back to the middle of the crater just as the wave crested.
Then that wave exploded out as another wave of force came to meet it. Tendrils of smoke following the weapons that slammed into the ground and exploded. A sudden burst of speed as a plane broke from the low clouds above them. It's downward path suddenly turning as a lift dropped open from the back.
"Ride's here..." Said the Private casually. Armor leaping to catch a hold on the lip of the lift. Followed by Max a second later. Both men climbed up without much trouble, leaving a braying horde underneath them as the plane lifted from it's hover and took the the sky with deft speed.
Once Max was into the belly of the plane he reached up and almost tore at the seals in his helmet. Popping it off with oddly fluid motions of the material. Metal flecking and melting away. Visor disappearing to be replaced by flesh. Flesh rebuilt, rather then reawakened. Once mask was off body became real underneath Armor, with all the bad affects. He dropped to his knees and vomited out into the open air.
It did not do his stomach much good that when he felt a hand on his shoulder, it was the Private's. Max looked up in the weird light the planets sun was giving off. Right into that gold visor that was like all the rest. But already, so different.
"We rise, Sergeant Stuart. And I promise you, our fall will be spectacular." A laugh there, from the Private's thoughts to Max's own.
Max vomited again.
It was some time later. Once Max had gotten balanced again, but had not gone back to being fully Armored. He sat on a seat looking out into the belly. To where the Private stood. Waiting on the lip of the still open lift. As if just pausing rather than resting.
"You never told me about the pilot and the plane." Max spoke up, finally.
"I didn't?" Still, thoughts transmitted rather than voice.
"No, you didn't." Max's voice echoed out into the space inside the plane. All polished metal and dangerous technology. Even inertia wasn't seemingly felt in this place. It was calmer here, than on the ground.
"My apologies. I did spend half my budget on it though, in my defense....but it was worth it." Armored fingertips stroked over the metal near to where the Private leaned.
Max noted it was oddly loving. It stilled his next thoughts for some reason. Leaving an air of silence between both men in both voice and thoughts.
"Can I ask you something?" The Private spoke up again, into Max's thoughts.
"Sure. Please." Max replied vocally, wiping hands over his face. Looking for some sort of anchor to what was going on.
"When....dating, Terran women....Women from Earth....is there anything I should know, about the places to go' I mean, lately. It's just..."
Max was speechless there. The Private was asking him about, dating. But his mind worked it out quickly.
"You're Chul'gaian?" Max asked over to the Private, curiously. There wasn't much else that could make sense in that moment. But he did not know, still, the Private never took off his Armor.
"Yeah, I am." Dillon rolled with it, with a soft laugh it wasn't actually a lie. Quite from it. He wasn't from Earth.
"Ahhh." Max said, understandingly. The clash of cultures had been a bit of a thorn in The Company's side. Two species of, humans, meeting was bound to be troublesome. Give them immense power and weapons, and it sometimes got....weird.
"Well....Man, I don't know." Max began to speak. "I am sure it's different from what you know. Women usually like, social things. Going out and doing something. You kind of want to aim it towards something you are good at, but is easy to learn." Max's words came out slowly, carefully.
"I'm a forty year old divorcee though..." Max added onto the end there. Tacking it on as a caveat to his advice.
"If it is another person at The Company....that isn't much of a problem. As long as you know how things usually go." Voice began again after a few nods from the Private. Max was just talking to talk about now. "There has been a few marriages even, between....well, our people."
"Mmm, yes. I heard." Dillon had presided over a few of them. But Max knew nothing about that from the man. It was just the Private looking out to the world they were stuck on. Plane or not.
There was a long block of silence as both men flowed into their natural grooves. The pressure of combat focused on Max while the Private stood there as calm as ever.
"Their are no rules, for dating here, at The Company." Max broke the silence with a comfortable flow of words. Filling up the air with his voice again. Talking to talk. "No rules from on high." A small laugh. "The General would be the one who would make such a rule, and he doesn't seem like a man who cares....Last time he dated, when the woman broke up with him he spent two decades in constant combat." A laugh there, trying to break the ice.
"She died." The private spoke up after a half second of thought. The careful control of the Armor making his tone emotionless.
Max didn't pick up on it, just considered it something he saw as odd. "Huh....I didn't know that. Well, either way, he hasn't dated in three decades in his own mind. I don't think it enters into his thoughts."
Yeah, it didn't. Until a few weeks ago. Dillon tapped armored fingers once over the metal he was leaning his hand on. Mind moving off to it's own little world, quietly. He didn't even notice Max coming up beside him to look out the open gate to the world they flew over.
"You gonna tell me another story about how you got here before we go back into Hell?" Max asked over to the Armored form beside him. A soft smile coming over his lips.
It was just what Dillon needed. He laughed in his soul, but would nod slowly.
And again, The Private told a completely bullsh*t story.
————————————————-
Again, the scene was another world away. Far as possible from their hellish predicament. Now it was the automated lines of a factory. Chugging out endlessly with gleaming metal. Their product, toys.
And there was the Private standing still in full armor amid all of it. Now though with a white lab coat over his thickened form. Fake, black circular goggles over where his eyes should of been. Armor of his mask thickened at the 'jaw' down to the 'chin' in a mockery of a sharp beard and goatee. And it was here, the Armored form began to....sing.
"Once upon a time, on the assembly line ran my brilliant designs made of plastic. Then the factory called me, said 'we are appalled, your new designs are too drastic'..."
The story was interrupted quickly once the song began. Max waving his hand in the air in front of the man's visor.
"Wait, wait. You were an insane toymaker." Max questioned, obviously not believing him.
"Yes." Dillon answered quickly with a nod.
Max sighed. Mask fluidly popping back into place around his head. Leaving the face for last where the golden visor melted into place in one odd dance of technology.
"I don't believe you." Voice was gone now from the Sergeant. Now just the lightning snap of thoughts back and forth.
"Whatever. It's time to move anyhow." Armored hand from the Private reached out to slap against Max's chest casually. Both men reading the countdown cloak projected in front of their mind. Waiting for that moment to begin it all again. And when it hit zero, they both stepped out into the air and began to fall.
Max got a full view of the world he might have to die for. Though with the conditions, it was not pretty. Even at this height the air was thick with a dusty haze that clouded both sight and light from everything. The falling form of Dillon was lost already, though sensors kept the men in constant contact.
The fall was fun, but ended quickly. Max hit the ground boots first in a sudden deceleration that sent cracks into the rocks around him from the sudden force of his form landing. Body went into an immediate motion though. Rifle popping into his hands from seemingly no where. Pulling it to an Armored shoulder as he drew it around and aimed it towards a pair of glowing red eyes that was staring him down in the sandstorm of dust.
As impressive as Max's landing was, it did not have much on the Private's. Just a moment before the trigger was pulled on the rifle Dillon's armored form landed boots first right on the head of the charging demon. Slamming it to the ground violently with a jab of a blade that snapped from wrist in the roll of momentum.
The monsters run became a slide that ended just a few feet in front of Max. His weapon lowered just as Dillon's blade rose, thick with a black ichor from the demon. The weapon snapped back into his wrist as he slowly stood up, now though on the fallen form of his enemy.
Max had to note, he was taller than the Private. By six inches, he knew that by what kind of Armor each man wore.
Why then did he always find himself in the position he was right now, looking up at him.
But Max knew the reason even as both man hung there in the silence of the moment. Max had fallen and landed without a scratch, this was impressive.
The Private had fallen and had killed while doing so. That was, something else entirely.
———————————————————————-
Time passed quickly, like it does in all wars. For all their technology the rush was still there. Take away the flesh to replace it with Armor, and it just made it that much more poignant. But both men knew the rules. They used their advantages to their full affect. They watched each others backs even when things got heated.
And with it came the calm between storms. Like now with those forms of power armor stood on the lip of one of the many of somewhat standing buildings in the ghost town they had both ended in. Looking down to another almost unending sea of moving flesh. Countless hordes waited for them down there, and even now many clambered up the building anyway they could. But it was taking them some time.
"Hey. I'm sorry about asking about dating. I shouldn't of done that....I just had to ask someone, and I figured the best guy was someone who's life I just saved." The visor of Dillon's armor didn't look over even as thoughts were transmitted directly to Max.
Max's visor did turn to look over to Dillon though. With all the sensors and technology it was sometimes better just to look. To understand.
"I get you. Must be hard, new rules and all that..." Max went with general sympathy. Hours together had eroded what he had once felt. His own defenses coming down in friendship to the other man.
"Something like that, yeah." A mechanical laugh from Dillon, marking his humor.
Max kept his sight on the other man for a moment or two. Another second of relenting as he looked away and back down to the ever growing horde.
"You care about her?" Max will finally ask, just tossing it out there to end all the stepping around.
"Yeah." The response was immediately back.
"Then put your faith in her. She deserves it, if you feel anything for her. Everything else will come what may." Even the helmet of the man nodded. A useless motion, but not so useless with his words.
A nod returned from Dillon. Questions so easily answered even if so hard to ask. Problems unlike so many he faced. All over something as small as faith. Or perhaps, something as important as faith. A moment or two from both men as the quiet over came them. Then it would be Dillon who spoke up. Pacing down the line of the edge of the building with unnatural balance. Getting some space between them.
"Don't mess up." One last warning before he went into a kneel, matched by Max. Nothing else but a snapping up of fluid speed that sent both forms across the distance to the next building. Which they slammed into unceremoniously. Creating two large divots in the side that went for many floors before both stopped.
Max had the honors of lighting it all up. His armored fist raising up towards the hole he created and the building they just leaped from. One single shot snapping from under an armored plate. A single small tube that rode a contrail of smoke right into the other building. Erupting the whole structure into a white explosion of energy from the first floor to the last. Taking all those nightmares inside with it and the collapse of the structure. The sound was amazing, but it wasn't enough to overshadow the laughs of both men.
"That was....impressive." Max breathed out a laugh as he watched it all tumble down.
"That it was. Hey, I ever tell you about the time I was the leader of a four man team of ex special force operatives that was wrongly convicted of a crime we didn't-"
"Private. You were not Hannibal Smith from the A Team..."
"F*ck....Well, a man can dream. You wanna do this again? They'll fall for it..."
"Yeah, let's do it again..."
—————————————————-
It was another space of time between battles. Another span of distance in this tiny war for a planet neither man had heard of before today. But was one they were willing to give their lives for.
So far, that had not been the case as what was needed. The planet only took their rage and fury. Their intelligence and cunning. Now both men were veterans of a war that lasted less than a day. Standing together once again looking out into a valley from their extremely high vantage point they had.
"Longest vertical fall on the planet..." Dillon spoke casually despite being two men in power armor watching the sun go down. The haze dissipating enough for such a thing to be possible, but there was work to be done yet before they could go home.
"Really?" Max responded with a curious tone.
"Yep. It's the little things that kill you know. This will work. Trust me..." It was good timing that just when Dillon said this, a hand that dwarfed either of their forms slammed into the edge of the rock face and pulled the enormous form of a red skinned demonic monster up head level with the pair of men. Staring down with a pair of black eyes that were wider than both armored forms were tall.
It bellowed a sound that vibrated the very mountain beneath both men. But it was not enough to stop them both from going in motion in two different directions. Weapons brought into existence in their hands and drawn up to a shoulder as tiny inconsequential flecks of metal were snapped up to the enormous form.
One swipe. It missed Dillon as his body went to the ground. It hit Max. Pinning his form against the rocks like an insects. Grinding him down in a mad claw that dragged form out to the edge.
Max had a second in the mad rush. It would be a second to call out to the other man. To warn him back. To tell him it was fine. It was worth it. It was all part of the plan.
He never had a chance. Dillon was already diving to snap both hands around one of Max's own. Caught in the flow of motion that dragged both men to the plummet and what waited for them out there. But Dillon never let go. Not even when Max went over the edge into space and Dillon's boot slammed into the lip of the rock. The only thing from keeping them both from being tossed over.
The enormous monster raised it's hand again, to smash both men down without much effort. But it was now, of all times, Dillon sent the plan into motion. The plane broke the cloud cover again like a lightning bolt. It's speed almost impossible, but it bore it well. Quite well considering it's pilot had already bailed out moments ago. But in an instant the plane with all it's speed smashed into the face of the enormous demon. Sending it off into the valley below.
The quiet came over them again. Even if was just Max holding on for dear life to Dillon's grip. One good pull and the man came up from the void and to somewhat solid ground. Both men just laid there. Unbreathing. Unfeeling. But it didn't matter. This was both of their moments.
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It was one last moment in time before it all ended. Now, the sun shined bright even if was just a small sliver on the horizon. Now it was both men in the city from before, though now it was with many others that wore Armor like theirs. Going about their business. Though the armored form of Dillon seemed more interested in poking around.
Max, however, found some time away from the man to give his final report. He watched Dillon move from body to body of their fallen enemies, still quite confused. But not complaining.
"...What had started as a distress call, turned into an assault, turned into a full out war, turned into a clean up operation. Terraforming specialists give estimates at four months before the planet is fully capable of supporting an ecosystem again.
I have to say, I don't think such a thing would of been possible without the intervention of the Private in this. In one day he turned my last chance into something that will bring life to this world once again. I don't think I am an arrogant man when I say I did my fair share, here."
There was a moment where Dillon stopped, then brutally stabbed into a fallen Demon's corpse. A moment later he came up with his prize.
"Hey! Max! One of these demons swallowed one of those talking fish plaques!" Dillon held up his prize proudly over towards the other man over the distance. After a second, the fish began to sing and move.
"Max! Max! It still works! Oh this thing is my new best friend!"
Max just went on with his log rather than answering the other man.
"...The Private is....unique. I don't know if he is batsh*t insane or just brilliant. Or both. He asked me about dating tips after he shot a dozen demons...I don't know much, but I know I feel sorry for whatever woman has his attention. Either way, I give him the rank of Corporal. I am sure others will agree with me."
"They asked him what he wanted to name the planet, in honor of his duty here..."
"The bastard named it 'Faith'..."
#The only demons and monsters are the ones in our hearts, and in our minds...#
#...Those places where all battles must be fought.#