A supplement of sorts. It needs work yes, but hey, I wanted to write something before I go to school. It's a tiny portion (and I mean tiny) of the battle from Ballpoint's end. It's sub-par for my usual scale of violence, but I'm not even feeling good physically so here you go.
“Come on people, let's get these bodies shifted. Dovash, no raising any new ones,” Commander Hollowscourge ordered as the battle began to wind down. Sure there were a few particularly annoying parasol operators evading the contractors in the trench's deeper parts, but they'd be dealt with or at least could be locked in and forgotten about in due time.
“Spoil sport,” Dovash said like a child being told he couldn't play with his favorite toy. Dovash was a necromancer, called upon sparingly by Ballpoint due to their destructive habits. His armor didn't seem out of place, though emblazoned upon the breastplate and front of the helmet were menacing bone white skulls, with the word 'NECRO' written across the bottom of his armor, under the skull.
“Don't you 'Spoil sport' me. It was hard enough keeping the hundred ones you had from turning on us. I don't need you raising more,” Hollowscourge said.
Dovash just pouted.
“I want an equipment and casualty report on my desk as soon as possible. What's the word from our guards at the por....tal....” Hollowscourge was utterly terrified when he looked up and saw a great rip in the air forming, heralding the portal had been activated. “Did those idiots manage to get it working?” he said in stunned disbelief. He was ready to congratulate whoever did it but slowly the portal opened and revealed not Ballpoint's main deployment bay, but what appeared to be Parasol's. Several railgun slugs slamming into the camp around the portal hammered this home. “Oh, son of a bitch! Everyone form up! Someone got in behind us!” the commander shouted frantically into his radio.
“This is Captain Ropeshocks, 45th Mechanized, we're engaging the enemy commander,” came a sudden but levelheaded response. Then another, and another, all from the units farthest back.
-
As the Operators began to pour through, with battlesuits and Lancers mixed in among them, the contractors scattered and took cover as the storm of projectiles claimed the lives of nearly forty of their number who were shocked and horrified by this turn of events, or just happened to be too far from anything substantial enough to stop a flying mag-cel round. The nearest Octavias were ruined as an initial salvo of larger railgun rounds smashed into them, some exploding, others just being left with two small holes from the more advanced ones. And behind the exit hole, there was the remains of the crew having effectively been liquefied. Reinforcements from the units farthest from the Parasol fortifications quickly engaged, but their Octavias' autocannons could only do so much against the larger medium tanks that Parasol began rolling through, though they did take a toll on their battlesuits and blew away small groups of infantry. But the Ballpoint infantry were utterly terrified when several of Parasol's tanks fired an apparently new weapon, the air around the barrels shimmering as they each fired a round. The projectiles blurred slowly towards their target, the air around the projectiles warping; three of Octavias seemed to implode in a cloud of metallic dust when they were hit. In response, a particularly large contractor brought a small railcannon to bear and fired at the nearest Parasol vehicle, the slug managing to punch through it's armor and by sheer luck, struck a power cell. The tank erupted into a ball of bluish flame but it was obvious that wouldn't be sufficient to make the advancing machines and operators even bat an eye as a whole. Those contractors who were closest decided to throw caution to the wind and drew their melee weapons and charged, a surprising amount managing to make contact; they knew full well they were going to die, but it was better to tie up the enemy and buy even just a few seconds for their comrades.
As railgun rounds were exchanged by the infantry and the armor began blasting each other, more contractors and Octavias began to surge forwards, Ballpoint using its numbers to finally bring their full force to bear in a massive charge which slammed into the advancing parasol infantry. This was where Ballpoint was in its element: Most parasol operators might have bayonets or maybe a sword. Ballpoint's troops brought all manner of weapons to bear: Powemauls smashed helmets, chainswords cut through railguns and battle armor, and heat-blades clove through bone.
After nearly an hour of a horrific melee, Commander Hollowscourge finally got a chance to stop for a moment for a breather, and saw some gargantuan monstrosity rampaging through a part of the camp. A railgun round clipped his helmet and shattered part of his visor, prompting him to duck behind the remains of an overturned Octavia. He peeked out and scanned for the offending party but found himself staring in a mixture of awe, terror, disgust, and pity as he watched the brutal clash. A battleuit tossed a contractor off into the distance before mowing down several more that were seeking cover. An operator had thier head pounded to mush, helmet and all, by a contractor with a flanged mace, while just a jog away from that, an Octavia fired off a missile that struck a parasol tank; in the ensuing blast the turret blew off it's mounting and came crashing down on other parasol troops ina cloud of dust and clumps of mud. A sudden yelling behind him brought him back to his senses though as an operator swung a scavenged powermaul at his head, the electricity coursing through the hammerhead crackling menacingly. Hollowscourge threw up his railgun in defense but was knocked into the wrecked IFV by the force of the blow as the hammer connected, his weapon bent into uselessness and him sent sprawling into the muck after bouncing off the ruined hulk. The commander quickly rolled over and drew his railpistol as the operator recovered and came at him again, but received a boot to his groin and three railgun slugs through his chest, sending him backward into the mud, dead before he hit the ground.
“Commander, you alright?” Dovash said, running over and helping the officer to his feet.
“Dovash? I'm surprised you're still alive,” the commander said, catching his breath.
“Ride got knocked over. I think we may need to just leg it now while we have a chance.”
Hollowscourge nodded. “All remaining personnel, this is Commander Hollowscourge. Everyone, scatter! We'll regroup at rally point Echo. Just bug out. If you can get wounded out, do it but otherwise just haul ass out of the area.” As he finished, he looked to Dovash and said simply “Come on, I'd rather not be here when that monster comes back.”
It was a disgrace to retreat like this, but as he looked out around the area before fleeing, it was clear they had lost. While many of Parasol's troops and machines lay broken and defeated, just as many of ballpoint's contractors and Octavias were also dead, dying, and ruined.
Corporate would never let him hear the end of this.