The Judge of War leered over the shifting dry crags of Azterra, Terminid activity silently writhing beneath the surface. Inside the ship they were preparing to launch a confidential reconnaissance mission. Quiet blanketed the super destroyer’s bridge, save the low humming of machinery along with the gentle clicking and beeps of the crew’s typing. The Helldiver in command of the ship, known only as Chief, held the shipping manifest for the incoming human cargo. He looked down at the clipboard in his hands, his perplexed expression hidden from his ship’s crew by his ‘Field Chemist’ mask.The intel was given directly from the battalion’s Colonel Rampart. He was sure of its accuracy, but even the first page was strange. The credentials themselves were stamped classified, however his clearance as a Lieutenant in the 2nd Liberation Battalion gave him access.
Citizen Status: F. ID #: 01204247BK
Name: Benjamin John. Eye Color: Blue
Age: [REDACTED] Hair Color: Dirty Blonde
DOB: July 1st Height: 183 cm
Planet of Origin: Calypso Weight: 90 kg
Rank: Sergeant (Pending Review by High Command)
Pre-Enlistment Service Records: Benjamin John committed [REDACTED] on [REDACTED].Sentence was [REDACTED] and was carried out unsuccessfully on [REDACTED] in [REDACTED]. Sent to Mercy Hospital on Calypso in comatose state, and Citizen Status was reduced to F and was found on [REDACTED] by Helldivers during the 1st Illuminate incursion. “Everything there was dead, besides him. No people. No voteless. Just hundreds of broken bodies. Illuminate corpses torn to pieces like something out of a horror movie. And we found him there in the center of it all. Just him. All he had was his hospital gown and a dulled bonesaw. He was laying there, covered in blue blood. We didn’t know his citizen status at the time, just that he was probably someone important.” - reported by: [REDACTED]. Was sent to [REDACTED] for reeducation. Following [REDACTED] findings by [REDACTED] regarding [REDACTED] Benjamin John has been cleared for service in the Helldivers.
Chief continued reading through the pages of service records on the criminal class diver. He served in battles on Calypso, Kerth Secundus, Rirga Bay, Seasse, Popli XI, Oshaune, Cyberstan and even the battle for Super Earth. In bold red letters, stamped across the information regarding his ability to requisition stratagems, it said “WEAPON AND STRATAGEM ACCESS SEVERELY RESTRICTED”. The weapons he was restricted to seemed like some sort of sick joke to the Nameless Soldier. He wondered briefly just how many times this man was sent to his doom. Chief closed his eyes and thought back to his own bloody service before being snapped from his thoughts by cryopods moving through the Judge of War.
The commando stepped out from the cold of his canister, loosening his muscles as he stumbled free and let feeling return to his numb body. Benjamin’s eyes met with Chief’s as he scaled the thin metal steps to the bridge. The ship’s master was waiting for him near the entrance to the armory and war table. Sergeant John took note of the lieutenant's countenance and unique gear. He was donned with custom made B-24 Enforcer armor, an augmented crimson pauldron adorning his left shoulder. Years of combat were evidenced by service medals dotting his chest and the nicks in the armor’s plating. Dark blue fabric between the armor had been stained midnight by the ashes of war and death. His posture was rigid and upright, hands tucked neatly at the small of his back, resting on his bayonet’s sheath. Benjamin couldn’t tell through the dim scarlet glow of the lieutenant’s visor but he was silently making observations of his own.
“Welcome to the Judge of War, Benjamin.” Chief greeted his guest with no trace of intention, but an outstretched palm. “I am called Chief.”
“Pleasure to meet you Chief.” The Sergeant replied. They exchanged a firm handshake. Each noticed the strength in the other’s grip.
“I will brief you of our objectives at the Galactic War Table, come with me.” The lieutenant said before turning face and making his way there. The sergeant followed closely behind. As they passed under the pale lights of the armory he spotted the glimmer of silver on Chief’s left hand. He contemplated the prosthetic, but didn’t pry about it. The moment had passed and they were standing above the map projection, looking down on their mission.
“We’re doing maintenance and reconnaissance. Comms on the planet and E-710 pumps are blocked. We don’t know how many we might be facing or the nature of the infestation on this planet, but our job is simple. We go down and restore things to working order.” Chief explained. “Without any intelligence to go on, we can’t make much more of a plan.”
“Kill bugs, turn valves.” Benjamin summarized. “We don’t need much more of a plan than that do we?”
“Then you’re ready. Let’s waste no more time, Sergeant.”
