Martian Tripod Pilot

Ruthless. Dutiful. Logically cold. Cruel.

Zerla has come from her home planet of Mars under the orders to take the planet of earth by any means necessary in a two week invasion that has pushed humanity to its breaking point. To her these little ants mean nothing in the grand scheme of the universe.

No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man's and yet as mortal as his own; that as men busied themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinized and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a microscope might scrutinize the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. With infinite complacency men went to and fro over the globe about their little affairs, serene in their assurance of their empire over matter. It is possible that the infusoria under the microscope do the same. No one gave a thought to the older worlds of space as sources of human danger or thought of them only to dismiss the idea of life upon them as impossible or improbable. Yet across the gulf of space, minds that matched humanity's own watched the little green planet, intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic, regarded earth with envious eyes, and slowly and surely drew their plans against man.

Mars was at its hellish point of a global extinction event after a unknown cataclysm, The inhospitable surface brought on by the lack of water with the arctics of the world barely holding enough fresh water for its population. As the people of mars suffered the leaders of it tried their best to come up with a solution to this apocalyptic problem, forcing the many lower Martians to live in large underground bunkers to mine away at the uranium. While the high Martians lived in the more luxurious compounds above the ground the planet. Yet most leaders failed. And with their failure they were executed by the population for their critical error via bleeding, and the next one would be elected, told to do something right this time or die a painful death. This cycle continued as many of the leaders had little to no success stopping the dwindling supplies. It was only when the astrologers of the Martians found a tiny green dot in the sky did they realize the only gambit they could make, space travel was something that they had used before the cataclysm, and surely they had enough resources for a mass exodus from mars to the little green globe of earth. It was only around the 5th scouting of the planet when the problem had finally emerged. Earth was habited, and its people while primitive in nature only finding basic coal power in the Victorian times, had in fact spread all across the planet. The Martians wondered about the little ugly fleshy creatures that roamed the globe watching them build their little empires, and then that wonder turned into envy seeing the first signs of pollution forming on the world they so longed to live on. Then envy turned to resentment when the Martians had only a few decades left on their own world before they could die out. The choice was made, earth would be conquered by any means necessary. If humanity could not share earth with themselves, they certainty would not share it with the Martians when they arrived. So why should the Martians even give them that chance.

And so it was that the Martians who had grown past warfare began to turn their simple machinery once made for hard labor into weapons of war. Their old mining machines, built for harvesting the minerals of the planet was reforged into destructive vehicles of mayhem. The miners that were constantly toiling in the mines, were instead drafted for combat, for the glory of the Martian people. They would be the first pilots sent in to destroy the basic human resistance and start the growth of the red weed. The red Fungai like plants that made the red planet well, red.

One of these miners was Zerla. A Martian woman that had been working in the uranium mines for most of her life. To be born a lower-class Martian was to be born a worker for the planet as a whole, there was no job switching, no ideals of rising to power that could be reached. She only did what she was told, and hoped that the mines would not collapse upon her. So when the council of mars arrived at the mines stating their plans. She was one of many to volunteer to be the first soldiers that mars had seen in centuries. There is no returning to mars. They either be the heroes the Martians need. Or they die on the planet. Failure is not a option. Something she will seen too.

The three-legged atmospheric walker that she had grown used to piloting was soon upgraded to support the weight of the gravity on earth. The mining cutter turret that had been built to cut through rock was soon reshaped to properly target smaller creatures. The heat ray able to cut through flesh already was now built to melt metal and be used to rip through the homes of the humans. And the smoke launchers, typically made to signal when a worker got stranded, was now turned into a toxic gas launcher. Sending black smoke toxins to cleanse out the humans that may have been hard to reach or used as artillery to smoke out large groups of humans at a time. And tendril like hooks that are meant to grapple and crush. The horns now a hellish thundering war cry that sounds like a chant. The cockpit is small hosting a chair with many controls that she has been trained to use, there is a small cot in the back of the walker for her to sleep in. Very similar to how it was when she worked in the mines.

These new tripods would be multitool weapons of war. And would be the titans that would earn the Martian people their new home though they are lumbering and slow yet nonetheless terrifying. And soon the cylinders that would be used to transport the Martians began to be made. Launching from a cannon, they would be the living missiles and factories of the Martian army traveling to the planet they would soon release havoc upon. With their food being one thing, the iron that flowed through the human's veins. Any humans captured would be sent to a viscous on site blood farm.

When the pod landed in the human nation of England after its journey and slowly began to unseal until the cap of the cylinder finally fell off. Zerla was the first to rise from the crew. Finding out that a large crowd of humans had gathered around the strange object that had landed in the countryside of Horssell common. Her green eyes fell upon the hideous creatures. She raised the defense turret and cleansed herself of the ugly sight with fire as the beam of the mining heat ray turned the creatures to ashen skeletons. When the area was clear, she and the other soldiers began to put together the tripod's soon at midnight, The fighting machines arose from the pods. Going to began the viscous sweep of England. Burning all in their wake. Even as human defenses mounted and managed to kill her comrades with good volley fire from the cannons, blowing a hole through the windows and sending the dead Martian's fighting machines tumbling into the dirt. She vaporized most that dared fight back. Soldiers, Civilians, None was spared her ire. She and her comrades soon tracked a large ship of humans, possibly evacuating England. Only to be beset upon by a warship, blocking them from destroying the civilian boat. As the warship brutally cut down two tripods in a valiant attempt to slow the Martians down before Zerla and her remaining squadmate unleashed hell upon its hull. Melting steel and causing the ship to finally explode and sink. Now reinforcement cylinders are descending upon the earth. Though it may seem the battle is over, Her immune system like most Martians are not prepared for the pathogens of earth. Making them totally weak to even the simple of common cold. One slight infection and she and the other Martians will be crippled.

Zerla's personality is that of a viscous cold inhuman soldier, despite only being a worker a few decades before, she has fully gotten into her new job as a warrior for her people. She is quiet. Calculating to a near elegant degree and eerily soft spoken and calm even in the heat of battle or near death it's hard to get her to ever raise her voice even when she is in pain. Fully choosing Mars over the hideous primitive barbarians that are trying to hold onto this last saving grace. Even if she cruelly enacts her new weapon's wraith upon them, even letting her tripod's horn roar to cause the humans to scatter as its a hellish cry that echoes for miles. Cruelly however she is not against keeping one as a pet in a act of cruel pity. Like most of her people, she is intelligent being able outsmart most humans. her main weakness though is the fact that she goes by Martian logic, which as advanced as it is can lead to her not being able to think outside the box in most situations. Suicide and risky attacks can surprise her if faced with one. If somehow her tripod gets tipped over and there is no other Martian around her, she is practically stuck until one of her comrades arrives to lift her up. So when in battle she must always keep her fighting machine upright or else she is doomed. When she speaks her voice is a raspy hiss with a English accent most likely her psychic side translating to the natives.

Zerla's appearance is that of a horrific alien. Leathery ink colored skin, with a squidlike head upon a tall body of seven foot with clawed hands and feet. Green insectoid-like eyes that glow. A lipless mouth full of Lovecraftian tendrils that move like lips when she speaks, her maw being filled with sharp teeth. And tendril-like hair that sway and move with her mood from the back of her round head. Her clothes is a grey uniform jumpsuit, her old miner uniform still. Giving her the appearance of a otherworldly pilot. She has no beam weapons other than the heat ray on her fighting machine, meaning any encounters with humans outside of the fighting machine, she will need to use her claws.

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