Hidden VexGen Pharmaceuticals Facility, several miles below the “Oenotropae.”
“Mr. Saarbac, may we demonstrate the new Reaver Commando,” exclaimed Neil Hurtner. One of the head scientists that worked on the project for creating super soldiers, using research from the Reavers. It was years until they managed to produce results that satisfied the higher ups, years Neil Hurtner has been pouring into.
Neil stood there, next to his boss behind reinforced glass. The observatory was twenty something yards up from floor of the “room.” Satin white painted metal walls wrapped around the white painted concrete floor. Yellow lines stretched in a grid pattern across the floor. On one side of the room, a rather large, hulking figure stood. Standing at six foot and seven inches, a rather gray looking male human looked blankly around the room. He sniffed randomly, rotating his arms. The three hundred pound muscular super soldier stood as he looked into the observatory deck from below.
“Observe how he does with a subject armed with an AR-15 rifle chambered in 5.56x45mm. Mind you this is a twenty inch barreled rifle, and the distance is well within the cartridge’s optimal range for maximum effectiveness. Especially considering the special fragmentary properties of the round.”
In the arena, a rather average looking male walked through a door. Confused and holding a rifle, he had no idea what to do until eyes rested on the large figure fifty yards away. Just as the steel door closed behind him, the commando made a full sprint at speeds that would shame Olympic runners. The rifle went centermass, several shots flying in panic. One round struck the left trap muscle, another the side of the calf, and few in the torso. Yet that didn’t stop him.
“Observe as he takes the shots and continues as if they never happened. The high pain tolerance of the Reavers are quite evident. It is worth noting that he barely lost any blood. Only a few trickles can be seen thanks to the viscosity. Wounds from bullets are plugged rather quickly. Lung punctures are the same.”
The fifty yard distance between the two has closed in seconds, with the larger figure grabbing the rifle with one hand and yanking it. The other hand tightened into a fist that went into his target’s jaw. The amount of power pumping through the fist sent the panicked person’s head to the side, snapping the spinal cord.
“Damn,” huffed Val as he could hear the sickening snap of bone, “How strong are these bastards?”
“Very strong, and they are very nimble for their size. We have Reaver Commandos that would put them on par with World Strongmens, even exceeding in certain cases. Now as an added feature of psychological warfare, watch this.”
The commando looked around as a threat assessment. Deeming none, he went to his knees and began a cannibalistic act. Bones snapping, cartilage and skin tearing; sounds that would send any sane person into a fit of disgust and fear.
“Well I’ll be damned, that will definitely scare any enemies. I have a big customer that would be willing to pay rather large sums for the results of this project. What else can you tell me?”
“Well, for customers, that will be difficult. These are vat grown subjects. Their intellect are about on pair with an average adult, capable of giving and executing orders. It’s the indoctrination program that will provide some difficulty. You need them to think and act as if they owe loyalty to whomever you want them to. Their weapon handling skills are on par, their nighttime eyesight is quite effective. Their daytime sight is normal. The rest we can talk about in the conference room, sound good?”
“Sounds good, lead the way.”