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No. 171844
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"Target identified." The massive bone white behemoth droned voice cold, heavy accelerator cannon spinning up, whining in the cool morning air. It's target, a collector, standing 3 meters tall turned at the voice, it chattered, raising its particle rifle, preparing. YMIR-626A, stoic and enormous, it didn't flinch, heavy reinforced feet stomped into the ground, field generators anchoring the mech to the ground, YMIR-626A was staying at its designated position, as ordered.
"Firing." each barrel rotated, dispersing strain amongst its brothers, laying down a stream of hyper accelerated raisin sized metal slugs at its target, the collector, the heat nearly melting the weapon, a constant rain of disposable heat sinks keeping the gun from bending in the immense strain. The thrum was enough to shatter windows, tear eardrums, the air ignited, flaring around the slugs like miniature explosions. Its target was too fast, dodging the stream tearing through hab after hab, felling walls and trees, the dexterous alien climbed onto a roof firing off burst after burst of fire, smattering off the YMIR's Armour. A round found purchase, ripping through the Mech's lower sensor array, it blinked out of existence.
The YMIR swayed, stabilization gyros whining as another wave of exotic rounds struck its hardened chassis. "Firing." Another heavy burst roared forth, dancing across the ground, uncontrolled targeting arrays trying to recalibrate. A turian far away was slapped as he prepared to open his mouth.
The collector’s body was pushed back by the very volume of fire the Mech laid down. The ray of light, metal, plasma and cold robotic wrath arced across the aliens barriers, too slow to react to the collector jumping, the Mech braced itself, chitin clashing with alloy, The alien scratched, the YMIR punched, claw like arms neatly severing a limb, its adversary screeched in anger. the alien pushed back, toppling the war machine, the protector of a once dead colony, it launched another volley of unexplained particles, tearing at YMIR-626A's exposed belly, ripping the armour, rending its components. if the YMIR was human it would lament its failure, but YMIR-626A was no human, it was tasked with protecting the humans, its programming stated it, clear and well formatted from the last colonist it was tasked to protect, the mechanic laying dead in storage unit five.
A punch, hard and foreign, alien, tore cords and components from YMIR-626A battered chassis, redundancies engaged with a whine, power was rerouted, a capacitor caught fire and burned, //Colonist_Human_Mechanic_Lina_Sven sson's additions worked well, the metal giant trundled back into life, burning, an avatar of destruction that at this moment had seen the face of love, directed at its cold unknowing, uncaring husk. YMIR-626A was not sad, it was not happy as the slugs tore apart, ripped, demolished, severed and cut through the invader's belly, it didn't laugh or grin as it stomped on the wretched creature's head, coated in alien blood. It was not avenging Lina's death, it did not comprehend her crying in the night or why it had a heart carved deep inside its body. YMIR-626A was a weapon, a Mech, unfeeling, inhuman. More aliens approached, small corrupted humans paired with larger batarian hybrids. The auto cannon spun into life yet again. Ripping and tearing forth large swathes, the missile rack roared, auto fabricators converting the very ground into more missiles, omnigel dripped from the lathing arrays, overloaded. The tide could not be stopped, each husk was replaced by two more, felling a scion brought the attention of a dozen others, the air thick with dust and smoke.
YMIR-626A would stand, it would not yield. The blazing stream arced and pinged across a Cannibal's wicked hide, splitting it in half, a husk simply ceased to exist, annihilated. But the cannon could not sustain the level of abuse it endured, the fabricators burned out, the heat sinks stopped falling. The battered titan, smoking and barely functioning kept firing, liquid coolant dripping from its torso, the horde drew ever closer, fire pinged across its remaining Armor, the cannon melted, turning into a torch, scorching heat radiating from it, the rounds kept coming, grinding, bouncing across bent acceleration rails, a hail of burning steel that clove through the swarm. The husks were close, YMIR-626A acknowledged the failure of its weaponry, but it did not act incapacitated, tackling through the swarm with its burning appendage, melting through, it would stand.
The tide of blue corrupted organic life descended upon the mech, throwing it to the ground, the launcher was ripped away, the volume of adversaries far too much for the servos to hold. But the horde was thinned out, the gun had done its work, each swipe of the glowing metallic claw wiped out enemies that were not replaced. YMIR-626A acknowledged the decline in foes, crushing forth, punching, the torso rotated, burning and ripping. The servos ground and cringed, the Mech was dying, it attempted to right itself, legs failed, fuel tube 1 through 6 were severed, capacitor bank A, D and C were simply missing, power was dropping and the internal fire was spreading. But YMIR-626A was not deterred, it did not fear death, for one to die, one had to be alive first. The scorched warrior rose from the pile, opportunistic rounds pinged against its cratered hull, fire control ignored them. It shuddered and quivered, but it rose, limping. YMIR-626A would stand. It staggered over to storage unit five, trailing debris, metal and smoke. The colony was dead, as it pinged the automated repair suite hidden inside the building YMIR-626A spent 0,8 seconds more than necessary staring at the fallen woman inside.
YMIR-626A was later deployed with a Geth prime during the reaper war, they boarded a cerberus shipyard with insertion pods, alone for a salarian demolitions team, a diversion, expendable.
Two days later everything on that station was dead.
Sometimes Mass Effect Generals are good.
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