...the Mesdan Auxiliary Regiment were raised to suppress mining revolts on the surface of their home world, Adorinda. When the regime that backed Colonel Noventa's rise through the ranks fell, the new President acted swiftly to disband them - by force. In a 28-hour battle, the regiment broke out, captured the spaceport, and escaped into orbit - foiling pursuit by the admirably direct method of detonating a 12MT fissile device over the port. Their careers as mercenaries had begun...
I remember it a little different. Mostly the sulfur smell and the dust getting into everything.
Fuck, it really did. We changed the buttplugs every hour and it was still clogging the intakes. Blowing the port was an improvement on that shithole.
Anyway, we've been 'volunteered' to introduce you soft bastards at home to the hardware. I'll be the first to admit we're rough around the edges - and the surfaces, and the insides...
You know, maybe I'm gettin' soft in my old age, but I think we prob'ly coulda made it without nuking all those poor civvie bastards at the port.
'Maybe' she says. You're in the wrong outfit for rescuin' kittens, Tosca. 'Less you wanna wear a nurse's uniform with a short skirt while I-
Can it, you two. We're recording.

'Poor bloody' is right. You scrub, and scrub, but those god-damn armored environment suits smell like ball sweat after two hours, just the same.
Tosca'd know, right Captain?
...
Stefansen, it's like you think I'm not gonna give you shit-burning duty or something.

They're nasty-minded pigfuckers at the best of times, and that heavy armor gets pretty sweaty and gross inside - doesn't improve their disposition one bit. I'm proud to have 'em around, even if they do nearly as much damage to the port bars as the enemy.
That fucker Cortezar especially. I think the MPs shit themselves a little when he's on the sauce.
Not to say that MPs don't shit themselves habitually.
Fucking right.
Anyway, you might have noticed we deploy a lot of heavy infantry in sealed suits. Personally, I just like that it keeps them from spraying all over the tank when they go pop, but we do a lot of fighting in hostile terrain and chemical battlefields, and it's nice when the crunchies don't die too easy.

Yeah, still creepy-lookin'. Can't shake the old boot-camp stories about the docs using casualties to provide brain matter for the combat computer. Maintenance swears it's bullshit, but I don't trust anybody who steals like they do. By the way, where's my spare track, you fucking thieves?
Chop the shit out of aircraft with those railers, though, right out to the horizon. Can't fault 'em for that.
You can when half the time they nearly get us, dipshit. No target discrimination a-tall.

Really, you gotta be crazy. It's way too fast, it's fragile, and it's got a big fucking grenade launcher strapped to it.* 'Look ma, no hands'!
Better them than us, though. I like it just fine when the crazy fuckers draw fire off me.
Chatty on the comms, too. It's like they forget someone's shooting at 'em.
*Fortunately, all those add up to a big, shiny minifig magnet in the great tradition of $3 polybag space sets, so there's no shortage of pilots.

I love these things. Not that I'd say that to any cannon-cocker's face, but you need backup, they're there, waiting to blast your target right off the map.
(falsetto) Ooh, Captain likes a big gun!
You'd almost think he enjoys the latrines.

That's my girl, #7 Suzy Q. 120 tons, 60mm railgun, couple racks of missiles, and plenty of attitude. Leaving the other guy with shit in his pants and abject failure on his mind.
Helps that you've got me along.
Helps with what? It's not like you're much of a driver, the way you keep clipping off the antenna going under bridges. I can't do my job if you keep fucking up our gear.
Tits, if you got a problem with my driving you can suck-
Shit-burning, Stefansen. For the rest of your life.

I hate sentry guns. Fucking. Hate. They never hit what they're supposed to hit if you set them too low, and if you set them too high, they burn out all their ammo and spray squirrel parts everywhere, oh, and you can fool the fucking things with a cheap-ass thermal blanket.
I can't sack them, they're my best tank crew. And they know it.