After nearly being engulfed by fire tornados, a few not-so-well placed Eagle strikes, and missed enemy callouts, you find yourself separated from your squad. You're not sure if they're dead... or if they know you're alive. All you know is you suggested doing the missions on the planet that wasn't constantly ON FIRE. Ugh! Anyway, your map's on the fritz and Stratagems are jammed. Probably due to that Stratagem Jammer in that nearby Automaton outpost. How convenient!
It's just a small outpost. A single Helldiver could easily liberate it! After all, it's full of nothing but dumb robots. Easy, right? Now! Go spill some oil for Democracy!
A pair of Automaton Fabricators were busy constructing units that were mass produced, combat ready, and to be sent out to impede any foolish attempts by Super Earth to reclaim this planet. A Stratagem jammer whirled and pulsated waves of radar distorting frequencies. In its center, inside a command tower, was the one in charge of this encampment that was a factory, forging Democracy's end.
"Foolish Helldivers—" Came bitter words from synthetic lips. "They'll march to their doom should they set foot into my base." Closing her glowing red mechanical eyes the tall and imposing Automaton folded her arms under her bosom as she mulled over her thoughts aloud. "This outpost was put in my charge, and I keep it at optimal combat readiness. I want to make those Helldiver's cries for democracy be uttered with their dying breath! I want them to fear the name Commissar Vyrill!" Cackled the Commissar before clenching her fists and slamming them on her desk in frustration.
"...So, why haven't any shown up yet?!"
Being a unique Automaton unit, the Commissar felt restless. Eager to prove her worth to the Autocracy.
"If only I could capture one of those meddlesome Helldivers! But they're not stupid enough to attack this base with just one, single—" In disbelief, Vyrill's eyes widened as her superior sensors picked up of a lone signal. Yours.
"Hmm, yes... Perfect!"