Maxim Yakov Vasilievich
Maxim had been a tall, large man even before his tech was installed. Now, the folding chair in the briefing room was more like a little stool to him, and he'd started to consider getting a second chair just before the briefing ended. After the wrap up, he was one of the first to stand and finally stretch. He never could sit down for too long; he was a man of action!
A quick study of the other members of the strike team showed him what he'd expected to see. A few faces he knew by reputation and several that were new to him. It was a shame he hadn't had time to properly meet his new comrades. He'd have to make up for it after the mission. For now, the most important preparation lay in the deployment bay.
A small team of engineers were required to get Maxim into his armor. A metal scaffold was set up with Maxim standing in the middle of it. The heavy armor pieces were brought in with mechanical arms, and the chest piece needed a small crane. The helmet was the last piece in place, coming down via mechanical arm and settling over Maxim's head. The pieces were locked onto his augments, and then into each other. The engineers scrambled like a pit crew, checking joints, completing manual locking procedures, and syncing the armor's status to his helmet's HUD. When he finally stepped away, the only thing he would have needed to look like some mythical warrior of legend would have been a equally large steed and a cape.
It'd be a standard engagement, and so standard weapons were selected. A custom made B-50 "Burevestnik" heavy machine gun was his first weapon. It was a gun so large that any other soldier would need to put it on a small vehicle; Maxim held it in one hand. His other weapon, and perhaps one whose utility he valued far more than the gun, was the Zasch Industries GZ "Portable Fortress" Shield. The shield was a tall, reinforced shield designed specifically for the Bogatyr Project way back at the start of the war. The shield itself is resistant against most attacks, and partially resistant against heavy munitions. It's wide enough so that anyone standing behind Maxim can remain safe from attacks coming from the front, at least as long as the shield holds. The other use, is where the "Mobile Fortress" name comes in. The shield can be placed down, after which it will drive support spikes into the ground and extend a pair of support beams from behind before detaching. This allows the shield to act as cover, block off a breach in defenses, or seal off entry points.
The final weapon donned was the axe. Its blade decorated with Voskayan patterns, and even a few words in Voskayan along the rim of the blade. Honor, Bravery, Sacrifice. It was placed on his back where it was visible, but acted more as a symbol than an actual weapon. The weapon was practical, but it was rarely brought out. It was meant to spur and Voskad infantry, reminding them that in this fight, they had true warriors on their side. It had worked so far.
Maxim thumped the shield a few times, a dull THRUM THRUM resounding from it. Maxim's thick accent followed briefly, "Well, my comrades, I believe each and every one of you will make fine warriors. Please, allow me to act as your shield in battle. This will be a good fight!" He held the gun by the barrel and set its stock on the floor. He was larger than life in that armor. His hearty laugh was too, "With our strength combined, defeat is impossible, ha ha!"
The helmet linked up with the command center's frequency and he was linked up to Major Rossini, along with the rest of the group, "Ah, Katyusha," he had long since grown into the nickname he'd given the Major for a reason no one remembered anymore. This wasn't his first deployment with her in the driver's seat, and he doubted it would be his last, "It has been too long. How long has it been? Since Ramilsham, I believe, has it not?"
Masako Sunada
Masako spent half the briefing listening to what should be important intel, and the other half scoping out the other fighters in the room. She made a good display of it, pretending to pay close attention and acting as if she was checking on her nails to get a glance at the others. Two of the other fighters in here were also Kenshimanese and female. Hmmm... they'd better not be a problem. She didn't recognize one at all, so she doubted she'd be a problem. Flat as a pancake and looking green as grass. Hmph, shouldn't be hard to leave her in the dust. The other, she'd seen somewhere before but didn't remember her name. She knew her face which meant she had at least a teeny bit of a following. What was her name? Kuraki? Keroki? Whatever.
She had no questions, or at least none that were worth asking. She lagged behind the rest of the group, however. She needed to make a call. Being one of the biggest stars in Kenshima kept you busy. The call was picked up almost immediately, and neither of them waited for the other's hello. Masako just started talking, "Briefing's over, Mr. Ikeda." Toshio Ikeda was her producer and manager,
"I'm about to gear up, so make it quick."
"Of course. I've got the Kenshima Daily, the Toka Inquirer, and Hokai News all lined up, they're going to want quotes after the mission. If you can finish before 1700 hours your time, CyShoujo Magazine wants a quick video interview, but if you don't, I'll make them reschedule. You've got a few posters from contest winners in your bunk you'll need to sign and send back to us; and Kora Corp still wants to know whether or not you're interested in testing out their new arm augmentations. They've got a lot riding on this new model, they need someone to help it sell."
Masako kept up a brisk pace, talking and walking,
"Fine, fine, and fine. I'll get the posters, the news thing, maybe make the magazine. What were the Kora Corp augs, anyway? Get me an image."
Her request was sent almost immediately to her device, "Ugh, ew. That synth-skin barely even looks soft, do they seriously think I'll wear this? I thought these were new, not some outdated, chunky garbage. Who do they think I am? Tell them to either get me something nicer or find someone else, cause I'm not wearing that."
"I'll let them know."
The call ended, Kora Corp's profits were dashed against the sharp rocks of Masako's standards, and she still had another deployment ahead of her. Business as usual.
Her loadout started with a pair of submachine guns, both customized, balanced, and even painted over to match her tech's color scheme. She'd gone through a ton of weapons, but these two had stuck by her and tended to be her defaults. A backup pistol, colored like the rest of her, went into a holster, and she took a few grenades. The grenades weren't ordinary explosives. They blew up like any other grenade, but they produced a colored explosion when set off. Chemicals in the explosive produced green, pink, and blue smoky bursts. Perfect to just toss one down and jump up in front of the drone as it goes off. And speaking of which. Her drone had been delivered before she even arrived. Once again painted to match her, the little ball served as nothing more than a camera to capture her in battle. Her editor was one of the best; a miracle worker; and she made sure he got plenty of good material to work with.
The little drone wizzed up silently and focused its camera on her. After circling her, then going from above her, to below her, it calibrated and beeped once. Now, for those other Kenshima cyborgs. She doubted they'd be any kind of threat to her, no way, not her. She had the best tech, the biggest sponsors, and she was one of the top ten. There was no way they could outshine her. But she wanted to test the waters. Just in case.
She strolled up to the one she had sort of recognized. The one with the white hair. Kureki? Karaki? She put on her cutest little smile and greeted her cheerfully, "Hi there! I think I recognize you, I've seen you somewhere before, haven't I? I'm Masako, Masako Sunada." She extended her hand for a handshake.
