"It is rare to see a Samurai who focuses on drones. The reasons are complicated in detail but straightforward in concept; You get less point income per kill if a drone killed the Antithesis vs just you, and even less if you are some unknown variable distance away from the drone. This makes progression slow, which is anathema to many if not most Samurai as Aggressive Fighters as a whole lead to faster point income on average.
"This makes the case of the Legatus Legionis a rather interesting one as the whole of the Legion is drone based, and has arguably been one of the most successful single Samurai force deployed in terms of lives saved and damage prevented. In this session we will discuss how the Legatus, a former ground soldier, took the time to plan his growth as a Samurai based on his experiences and inherent strengths and weaknesses and joined the ranks of the rare Samurai breed of Defensive Fighters.
"if you will, please take your seminar packets and turn to page 9. If you somehow failed to acquire a packet or lost it, please raise a hand George there will make sure you get one."
--Phil Elderstein, "Lessons from The Defensive Samurai and how to improve your workforce performance" Seminar, New London Mega-City University, 2060.
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"Get those sandbags in place! You want a spike to rip you open? COVER and Concealment. COVER! Let's move, you sorry excuses for Model Fodder!"
Private Wilhelm hurriedly tossed a full sandbag to Cpl. Marks before taking an empty one and holding it open for Pvt. Mills to dump in the mix of clay and rocky soil that made up the earth in the local region. The yelling Sargent was making his way down the length of the defensive line, exhorting any and all he saw into working harder while insulting them the entire time. As the last entrenching tool-full load of dirt hit the fill point for the bag Wilhelm quickly closed it off and tossed it before grabbing an empty one and starting over.
As he made each toss to Marks he could see the slowly rising berm of cover being built from the trenches being franticly dug out from the hillside by the Wild Horse City Defense Corps. The Antithesis were set to hit the town of Paradise Hills in less than an hour and the Corps had barely arrived in time to start setting up defensive emplacements due to the short notice of a nearby hive turning active. The City Council had made an emergency call for merc companies to come to their defense, and Wild Horse was the only one close enough to make it in time. Now Wilhelm questioned if they were in time to make any meaningful defenses before the wave of monsters hit. It was his first combat deployment, but he had seen the briefs and he was not sure that a trench with sandbags would be enough cover against a full swarm of sub-twenty Models.
The Model Ones would just fly over, same with the Twos. A three it would help against if the numbers were not too badly against them. A Four would laugh at them as it they launched themselves over with their tentacles and gassed them with paranoia inducing compounds. Fives were beastly tanks that fired quills and poisoned their targets, quills sent with such force it took several layers of sandbags to provide cover from before the quill rent them asunder. Sixes, the low level leadership units, were massive enough to not care about such puny constructs and smart enough to send Threes and Fives first. Sevens were... nightmares, but they would only be a problem *behind* the defensive lines. Eights were not likely to show, being non-combatants, and neither would the Tens. The nines... well. Wilhelm would never see a Nine before the stealth unit shredded him apart in a fury of biological blades.
In truth, all they could do from here is try to contain any Threes through Sixes that made it through the artillery barrage and hastily mined killzone in front of him. No air-support was available as it had been diverted to another hotzone that had a higher threat level. The more Wilhelm thought about it while holding, sealing, and tossing sandbags, the more he realized that he was likely to soon become part of the 60% Turnover Rate of unblooded Wild Horse Recruits. The bad side of that number.
It was then that he started wishing a Samurai would show up, even if it meant less combat pay. At least he might live to spend it.
"Anti-air laser emplacement!" Some Corporal thudded into the trench next to Wilhelm before deftly assembling a small quadrupedal base on the ground just behind the trench line before dropping an auto-laser on the mounting. A brief start up test had the briefcase sized module spin a 360 around the mounting peg from the base and then swivel the emitter barrel from straight up to the sky all the way down to ten degrees below the horizon line. The specialist caught a sandbag sized pouch of things from a slow moving cargo truck and passed the bag on to Wilhelm. "Spare Batteries. If Ones or Twos show up, this'll watch your back. If anything comes over the wall, it'll try to fry it while you are dying. Keep it fed. If a spike or shit knocks it over, put it back up. Might want to elevate it or find a place in front of the line in the sandbag wall, otherwise you might walk into the beam and lose your head. Good luck! Gotta go." And with that set of jolly instructions the Cpl hopped out of the trench and jogged to the slow moving truck to catch another emplacement before repeating everything another hundred feet down the line.
"Hey, yo, Wilhelm. Bag!"
"Right. Got it." Wilhelm dropped the bag of batteries next to the slowly scanning laser and starting again with filling and tossing sandbags. "Marks, make a platform for this turret thing behind the bags! I don't want it trimming our hair."
"Fuckin' right, man." Marks started to quickly shift the sandbags around to make a firing position with a small window to face the front without reducing the cover of the fireteam too badly.
"Sure hope this light up toy works..."
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The horizon was filled with a cloud of dust as the stampede of Antithesis drew near. Wilhelm and his fireteam leaned against the sandbag berm with their rifles resting on it, iron sights giving a dismal view of their futures. The auto-laser kept watch on the skies as men and women up and down the line nervously gripped their weapons. The quiet of dread was broken with the faint boom of the artillery on the other side of the town as they began to drop shells over the distant horde.
As they watched the distant impacts and explosions Wilhelm turned to face a low thud in the trench behind him. Some nutjob weird armor and a red cape had jumped in and as Wilhelm watched the stranger stepped up to the berm and joined them in looking over the scene.
"Well. Looks like we got here in time." The stranger said. Pale face, brown eyes and hair, scars on one side of his head, the man looked like nothing special aside from the fact that he was wearing ancient armor from centuries ago. "Thinking we should set up right at the close edge of the minefield, double ranks, and form a shield wall. Pilums after the first half of the mines are gone, then CQC. Fall back to the trench line if the wall is broken. Get the Mortars set up back here... yeah. That should work."
"Sir?" Wilhelm stared at the man incredulously. "What are you talking about? We've already deployed. We don't have time to do ANY of that!"
The looked back as if he had forgotten Wilhelm was even there. "Oh, sorry. Talking to myself." He gestured to front line. "You may have deployed, but I just got here. Haven't had a chance to see the lay of the land until now, so I wasn't sure how best to deploy. No worries, boot, working together, we got this." A smile and a heavy clap on Wilhelm's shoulder later and the man jumped up in one step to the ground behind the trench line. Picking up a helmet with a large red crest of red hair or something sticking up from it and running front to back like a mohawk, the man donned it and said "Right. Let's get it done."
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
"Who the fuck was that?" Mills leaned over from his firing position a few feet away.
Marks watch the receding back of the man in awe. "I... I think it is the Legatus."
"The legawhat?"
"Holy Shit..." Marks did not seem to hear Mills' question. "Is the Legion here? We might just make it..."
Wilhelm looked back and forth between the two. "Is he a Samurai? I don't think I have heard of him. Maybe Cause Player, but I don't know that character."
While they argued about who the man was, a faint rhythmic beat became noticeable. Soon the sound resolved into an infantry column five across and as far back as Wilhelm could see until it curved around a building at the edge of town. As they got closer and details could be made out Wilhelm could see that the infantry were not made of people, but machines. Androids of some kind, each carrying a huge rectangular shield on their left arm and long heavy spear in the right hand. Every step was in perfect sync with each other and almost every unit looked the same. Helmets covered much of the face but left two optical sensors and small speaker visible where the eyes and mouth should be. Some helmets had no decoration, some had a small red plume, some fewer had a longer one reaching further back over the head, but none had a plume that reached as far back as the strange man's helmet had.
As the column reached about halfway down the defensive line, just between the minefield and the hilltop entrenchments, the two ranks closest to the enemy made a Right Face turn in perfect sync and stepped forward two paces. As the rest of the column moved on the end was in sight, showing that they should cover the entire front with two lines of machines and a one more running half the length. As the back half passed the first half, they also turned and matched ranks. The last line curve right to move behind the trenches, and as Wilhelm took a closer look he saw a heavy mix of heavier modern weapons being carried on the backs of several machines. It was not long before a five "man" team jumped into the trench behind Wilhelm and in a matter of minutes had dug out small cove about ten feet by ten feet before the one carrying a heavy weapon unslung it and released the bipods for the tube to lean on. Another sat down a three point baseplate on the ground and seconds later a mortar emplacement was ready. The three others dropped large boxes off their backs and placed them at the three walls of the emplacement before filling sandbags they pulled from somewhere with the dirt they had piled up atop the hill moments prior. Soon the boxes were lined with sandbags on every side, and it became obvious why when the top on one was opened and a machine pulled out a HE mortar shell out and placed it next to the weapon.
The entire event transpired without a word spoken among them, and when they were done the machines stood at parade rest.
The strange man returned a minute later, the helmets empty spaces now filled in with a black glass and the bottom sealed against neck of the armor.
"Right, then." The man's voice came from some hidden speakers now. "Not long now. Lets get every one focused, you think?" The helmeted head cocked to one side as he posed the question Marks.
"Uh, sure?" Marks wavered. "I don't know if I have authority to allow you to do... whatever? But If you are a Samurai, go for it."
"Vanguard. Samurai is such a dumb name. Ugh." With a shake of the head the man took a step and hopped up to the top of the berm.
"SOUND OFF!" Only the fact that he was facing the array of machine men kept the Wild Horse troops from being overwhelmed by the volume of the man's voice.
From the double lines in front and the varied emplacements being the trench there was unified shout.
"Contubernium!"
A lesser number of voices followed up.
"Centuria!"
Even fewer voices cried out "Cohort!"
And then all the voices shouted again, "LEGION! Sta contra multitudinem! Vis et Honor!"
At that the machine men at the front took their spears and in unison began to thump the ground with the bottom end.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The units behind Wilhelm and his team took up their large shields and began to beat their open hands against the surface to match the rhythm.
"Who do we fight for?" The man cried out.
"The People!"
"How do we serve?"
"With Strength and Honor!"
"Who are we?"
"THE LAST LEGION!"
"And when do we fall?"
"NEVER!"
"LEGION! MAKE READY!"
"Vis et Honor!"
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The rhythm continued unbroken as the man led his machines in their rallying cry, and almost against his will Wilhelm could feel the pounding sink into him and fuel his courage.
Which was probably good, as a few moments later the first mine blew a Model Three into puree. Shocked into action, Wilhelm and his fireteam leaned into their rifles and began to open fire. The spears rhythm never wavered as hundreds of Antithesis charged ahead, Model Sixes using the rest to soak up the damage before lumbering forward. They watched as a group of Fives stopped and began to throw quills out at the machines.
"SHIELDS!"
The font rank put their left legs forward into high crouch and dropped the bottom of their shields to form a solid wall in front of them while the rear rank lifted their shields up and put them over the front of the unit ahead of them and angled it back so that a second shield stood atop the first and bent over to deflect spikes upwards as they hit. They never stopped thumping the ground as spikes pinged off the shields and spalled out into uselessness, their kinetic energy stolen from them.
Wilhelm continued to fire downhill past the double ranks that stretched out a hundred or so feet from him, servicing targets and wondering if the wall would hold once the enemy made it past the mines. A loud THUMP! let him know that the mortar crew was now active, and the groups of Fives that had built up began to atomize one by one as each received a personal gift from the machines.
Soon over half the minefield and been blown as the Antithesis sacrificed monsters to make way for the Sixes.
"Pila!" The strange man shouted, still standing fearless on the berm.
The two ranks stopped their rhythmic beat and as one motion the top shields angled to the left as on a hinge and both ranks heaved their spears before the shields snapped back into place.
The spears, or Wilhelm supposed, pila, flew with such force that any model that was hit was pinned to the ground. Then the line of pila, which somehow had made an almost straight line, began to emit some terrible noise before there were some small pops that preceded thin lines firing out of the shafts and anchoring to their neighboring pila. The flesh of the Antithesis began to slowly melt and the charging horde paused for a moment until the masses behind the leading models pushed them forward into the vibrating hell. As they charged past the pila they ran into the monofilament wire fence that had been created and were shredded as they were pushed ahead without remorse by their own comrades. A few minutes passed before the Sixes understood and had some Threes sacrifice themselves to knock each pila over, but the fence had still taken out a not insignificant number of Antithesis.
"SWORDS!"
The twin ranks drew short swords and held them ready to stab forward. As the mass of monsters crashed against the shield wall an individual machine would find an opening to push the shield forward and stab out before closing the wall back up again. The ones on back began to stab and slice at the models that clambered over the wall, and the Wild Horses riflemen began to aim at anything that made it through that meat grinder.
A sudden repeating whine from the auto laser had Wilhelm look up and see that a flock of Model Ones was trying to dive bomb against the trench line.
"AA LASERS!"
The machines up front popped a back plate open and each one folded out an auto laser turret that joined in the fray of laying waste to the ones.
Mortars continued to drop and swords flashed and hours later, when the river of monsters had finally stopped, Wilhelm looked out on the field with less then a full magazine left for his rifle and saw they shield wall still holding.
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The day after the fight Marks sent Wilhelm a link to a Samurai Bio Page site where a pair of photos showed a simple man in BDUs and a big smile and also the same man in armor and holding the helmet with the red plumage.
The Samurai name was Legatus Legionis, and he specialized in static defenses and wide impact hordes.
How in the world did he come up with this theme? This is insane! I don't know if he even killed anything personally! Wilhelm thought.
He did not think on it long before Mills tripped while walking backwards holding a heavy crate with Marks, sending the crate onto Wilhelm's ankle and elicited what bystanders would later call a very memorable scream.