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So you did mention me to CP podcast. You like me! You really, really like me!

Area 1, Dustbowl – February 20, 1968, 12:09 P.M.

The RED Pyro had spent the last two minutes looking for a good ambush spot. His armor had informed him of his prospects, and he had decided on lurking just beside the tunnel entrance to Point A.

He had a new methane-fueled flamethrower, designed to cling to the circuit-laden plating of the Jackhammer-class armor, especially attracted to cloaked spies. The Engineer had jury-rigged a repulsor blast feature on the nozzle, essentially filling in for the infantry-level airblast.

While the RED Pyro, Heavy, and Demoman were lurking in wait for the rush of BLU mech troops, the Announcer had called a conference with one of the remaining team members.

“Your performance was commendable, Soldier. But our defenses were yet overwhelmed.”

“It’s not my fault, Ma’am. The BLUs used an underhanded tactic that, I believe, is illegal by the Geneva Convention.”

“Legal or not, we can’t afford to let them do it again. I am submitting command over our forces to you for the time being, and will be coordinating our fallback system at Area 2.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“And don’t call me ‘Ma’am.’ I work for a living.”

“Sorry. Yes, Commander.”

“I warn you, Soldier… You must not fail me again.”

“Yes, Commander.”

The Announcer pressed a button on her desk, and a panel opened beneath her. The desk sank into the floor, and the panel sealed the desk in. That crazy Announcer, with all her fancy escape routes.

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Area 1, Dustbowl – February 20, 1968, 12:13 P.M.

It started innocently enough.  BLU’s forward march of Scouts weren’t even worth tripping the STICK mines over. It continually worsened, though. Soldiers, a Nanocharged Heavy, and even a trio of Demomen. All of them after the disk-shaped supercomputer inside a wooden lean-to that was Point B of Area 1. The RED Soldier, may God rest his weary soul, never got a break.

“Scout! There’s a wayward Spy in the A1 tunnel! Medic! The Demo’s on his last leg, get over there! And Pyro, for Pete’s sake, SET SOMETHING ON FIRE!“

The battle seesawed between the two sides for a good, long while, until the RED Soldier heard an announcement.

“I am fully charged!”

Coming from the eastern tunnel was an oddly paired duo of BLU Medics, one with his Electron Saw out, and one with a nanocannon. The RED Soldier knew he had to explode one of them before it was too late, but by the time that thought processed, it was too late.

The BLU Medic let the charge loose on his doppelganger, and a wicked transformation occurred. The receiving Medic’s armor smoothed and became streamlined, his helmet simplified into  a visored pickelhaube shape, and his saw melted and reformed into a battery-like syringe. The Medic proceeded to savagely plunge said article into the nearest RED troop, in this case the fleeing Scout. Electricity arced around him, and his armor turned a dull, unreflective shade of gray. The RED Scout dropped to the dirt, utterly and completely dead.

The BLU Medic took a slight glance at the corpse, as if to take in what he had just done, then leered at the remainder of the remainder of the RED team.

“I AM ZE ÜBERMENSCH!”

With a strange sense of deja vu, the RED Soldier took point.

The Soldier slid by the charged Medic and blew the charg-ing Medic far into the distance with a double-shot of energy rockets. The remaining Medic roared, and made a near-miss on the RED Soldier’s head with the nano-syringe. The Soldier returned that gesture with a few charged-particle rounds to the face. The attack only seemed to anger the Medic, who stabbed heavily, once again missing the Soldier but hitting the Pyro, rushing to back him up.

The Pyro was subject to the same horrible drain as the Scout, but the Soldier saw the Medic’s needle fill up with a bright silver liquid. As the Medic continued to press the attack, the needle steadily drained. Although it took a few more dead troops and quite a bit of bobbing, weaving, and energy rockets, the Soldier finally put two and two together. The nanomatter inside the needle must have been powering the Medic’s rampage.

The RED Soldier rocket-jumped over the Medic’s head, goading him to turn around. The Medic did so, but in mid-turn, the Soldier blasted the syringe with an energy rocket. The glass casing cracked a bit, but the nanite-buzzed monster barreled forward again and stabbed. Missile after missile was unloaded at the Medic’s weak spot, but if he ever showed signs of slowing down, the Soldier didn’t notice.

The BLU Medic stabbed forward again, and the Red Soldier caught his stabbing hand and rolled. The maneuver ended with the Medic lying disoriented against a rock, and the Soldier rather dizzy. However, the newly-reconstituted RED Scout had the presence of mind to run for and grab the BLU Medic’s nano-needle. One tug, two, and then a whack with the B.A.T. and it came off, leaving the bare fleshy arm underneath. The BLU medic’s armor re-segmented and faded into its original blue hue. The power drain, of course, left the BLU Medic feeling like he was coming down off a drug high.

The RED Soldier walked up to the dazed BLU medic, smirking.

“What’s the matter? You tired? Need a rest?” The Soldier ripped off the Medic’s helmet, roaring, ”How ’bout you take a NAP!”

What ensued was a powered-armor-on-soft-fleshy-skin beating, much too graphic to describe here.

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The RED team stood, admiring the Soldier’s handiwork.

“Wow, rocketman. That’s brutal, even for you,” said the Scout.

“Oh, it was nothing. Once you get past the hard front part of the skull, the rest is quite easy.”

“Hey, boys,” interjected the Engineer, “Don’t you feel like we’re forgetting something?”

An alarm sounded.

“There’s a spy sapping my sentry!”

Another alarm sounded.

“Zhere is a Spy capturing our point!”

Inside the point 1B shed stood a very smug, very evil-looking BLU Spy. He flicked a cigarette, sneered, and said,

“May I make a suggestion? RUN.”

The Point capture alarm sounded, indicating that BLU now had full control over Area 1. The Soldier frantically signaled a general retreat, and the RED team made haste. Through the gates and out of harm’s reach, as the clock reset on the Control Point Grid.

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The BLU Engineer smiled at the report. Both points captured well within the deadline, and only acceptable losses suffered in terms of lives and equipment. He turned to the Announcer.

“You see? I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

“You are overconfident. This was only the preliminary invasion. We still have to continue on to area 2 and 3.”

“And if all goes according to plan, we’ll succeed there, too.”

The BLU Announcer smiled wickedly at the many diagrams spread on her desk, especially the one labeled “Codename: SANDMAN”.

“I believe we will, my hard-hatted friend. I do believe we will.”

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Another chapter over and done. You asked for less TF2 in space, and you got it.