@konamikode if Huey built Code-Talker mechanical legs like what he used, would Code-Talker be able to use them, or is he too old to really stand at all? Cause now I got this idea of Huey building somekind of metal exoskeleton, or making the designs for one, as a 'final' gift to Code-Talker for helping him repair Sahelanthropus.
You can tell which omakes I haven't looked over by how they're labeled. If you make changes before I look at something, technically I haven't looked at it yet so
Current plan is to look over everything on Sunday before close of votes.
@konamikode if Huey built Code-Talker mechanical legs like what he used, would Code-Talker be able to use them, or is he too old to really stand at all? Cause now I got this idea of Huey building somekind of metal exoskeleton, or making the designs for one, as a 'final' gift to Code-Talker for helping him repair Sahelanthropus.
You can tell which omakes I haven't looked over by how they're labeled. If you make changes before I look at something, technically I haven't looked at it yet so
Current plan is to look over everything on Sunday before close of votes.
Omake Ops 8.1: Ghost In The Machine - Ahab + Guest
"Boss, you might want to look at this." The head of Diamond Dogs leaned over the security technician's chair to look at the bank of monitors he manned. On one screen, a command line prompt flickered, 'Authorize Y/N?' On another, a security feed showed one of Diamond Dog's logistics team standing outside one of the high-security areas of the R&D labs. It was far into the night, long after the woman's normal routine would dictate her to be asleep.
"She's trying to access the Mammal Pod lab." He held his hands up in cluelessness, fully relinquishing the decision to his superior. "The clearance checks out, but it is one of the things we don't let just anyone waltz in. I don't know what you want, I wasn't there for Peace Walker."
The man known to only a few as Ahab gave a 'hmmm' of thought. After the second round of denuclearization, he had been having second thoughts about what The Boss wanted from the world. Not what The Patriots intended to do, but the very thoughts the woman herself had at the end. He decided now was as a good time as any to bury it for good.
"Let her in. I'll be down there shortly."
"Hookay Boss." The relieved technician tapped a few keys, and on the video screen the door slowly cranked open. As Brunhild walked into the cloud of vapor, Big Boss was already out the security station's door.
******
Inside the cold storage unit, numerous cooling systems loudly hummed to keep the temperature low so the advanced electronics within could function with peak capacity. The large cylinderm set on a raised platform just in front of the far wall as if upon some technological altar, was usually kept outside in a lowered storage bay with minimal guard. But the increasing profile of Diamond Dogs and the desire to further study the AI remnants led to the R&D lab turning one of their large server rooms into a highly secure analysis lab. For the young woman walking alone down the long rectangular room, past deserted workstations and flickering databanks, she felt like a child straying into some place her parents had forbidden her to go. And she knew very acutely what that was like.
Stopping before the secured subject, Brunhild Stahl paused, gathering her nerves for the biggest leap of faith she'd made since joining Diamond Dogs.
"You are the Mammal Pod." The pale woman spoke quietly, barely above a whisper. "Dr. Strangelove modeled you after the woman she loved. The woman who is either loved for winning the second world war, or hated for war crimes in its aftermath." In the frigid temperatures of the cooled storage facility, one could have mistaken the reason she clutched herself was the cold. Brunhild walked up the steps and approached the front of the pod, and after a moment's hesitation rested her forehead against the cold metal of the AI's shell. "I've only heard rumors about you from Master Miller and Revolver Ocelot. From the survivors of MSF. Some say you wanted a free world. Others say you wanted to control it. Or remove people from the influence of the power-brokers in the world."
Brunhild had catalogued all the main viewpoints on the legendary soldier before arriving on Mother Base, and had since expanded the file. But nothing added up. An identity of the woman still eluded her. Which brought her here.
"But most of all… rumors that despite your dismantlement, you still live. A fragment of The Boss still flickers within silicone and copper."
Brunhild was far to jaded by a short life surrounded by the sins of humanity to be a believer in any kind of religion. But at this moment, she wanted to see what the old members of MSF believed. The faith in Big Boss' dream, of The Boss. Could she see it? Was it what she'd been seeking? The modern day prophet?
"If there is any truth in this, I beg of you. What was your Will?"
For several long, uncomfortable moments, there was silence. The cold of the chilled environment and the nearly-frozen metal felt like physical symbols of the cold disappointment Brunhild found bubbling in the pit of her heart.
Brunhild started, backing away in astonishment. Though the machine could not move, the single, blinking red eye atop the pod was judgmental and imposing as any weapon she'd stared down.
"Waiting for a long time. Waiting for your birth, your growth, and the finality of today."
Was this it, was she finally going to get her answer?
"To make the world one again."
The world one again? Brunhild's mind was awhirl with interpretations. World peace? A single, unifying government? How did it fit with Big Boss' dream of soldiers separated from all other ties?
"The world used to be whole, but with the end of the Second World War, the Philosophers began to fight amongst themselves and the world was torn apart. The foibles of politics and the march of time can turn friends into enemies just as easily as the wind changes. Yesterday's ally becomes tomorrow's opposition."
Brunhild's bewilderment over who these seemingly-world-shaping Philosophers was drowned out by the confusion over this passage. "The Cold War isn't new. The Great Game, the Napoleonic War, World War One, we've had global struggles." The AI continued speaking, unhearing or unwilling to listen to the person in front of her.
"We soldiers are forced to play along. A soldier's skills aren't meant to hurt friends. So what is an enemy then? Is there such a thing as a timeless, eternal enemy? No, there never was. Our enemies are human beings, so can only be enemies in relative terms. The world must be made whole."
Brunhild bristled at this idea. "I am fairly sure my father is never going to be anything but my enemy." She defiantly met the flickering eye of the former nuclear weapon control system. "Oppression, abuse, those are ideas anyone can agree to fight! Not just a person on a podium!"
"We have no tomorrow, but we have hope for the future. In 1960, I saw a vision of the ideal future from space. I could see the planet as it appeared from space. That's when it finally hit me. The Earth itself has no boundaries. No East, No West, No Cold War. In the 21st century, everyone will be able to see that we are all just inhabitants of a little celestial body called Earth. A world without communism and capitalism... that is the world I wanted to see."
The grip on her arms sending a lightning bolt of pain rippling through her, Brunhild shook her head in physical defiance of the worldview presented. "Those are economic systems, you stupid machine! What do you mean by that? How does this reconcile the first and third world countries?"
"Reality continued to betray me. The sacrifice of war causes a shift in the times, this shift leads to new conflicts, and in turn newer wars. Like the atom bomb, each reaction sparks many others. An endless cycle of war."
"That is not how war works!" The analyst in Brunhild, the woman who prided herself on seeing the subtly shifting patterns in human culture and behavior, was enraged at the logic a machine meant to decide nuclear war presented. The commander she wanted to be, living a life of protecting others from evil, rejected this idea that war was self-perpetuating. "War is not endless, nor a cycle. The entire business of war is how efficiently you can throw resources down a black hole! It's not sustainable!"
"In June of 1944, I participated in the Normandy invasion. I was pregnant with The Sorrow's child, and gave birth on the battlefield. My baby boy was taken from me by the Philosophers. This scar is the only remaining proof I was a mother. There is nothing left inside me now. No emotions. Yet at night, I feel the pain creeping up and down my body like a snake."
As the fragmented AI's sermon finished, Brunhild realized her throat was scratchy, her breathing ragged. Had she been in a shouting match with a computer? A chuckle filled the air, slowly growing. But Brunhild felt no joy or humor at all. "This is it? This was what it's all for?" As the bitterness of disillusionment overwhelmed her, she staggered to a nearby table, momentarily supporting herself on the desk before collapsing bonelessly into the nearby chair.
"What was I expecting, you're just a jilted lover's broken to-" She paused, the anguished tears freely streaming down her face. "No. You're telling the truth. A broken machine by a broken woman holding the pain of a broken mother, but it's all true, isn't it? The Boss wanted a fantasy."
"Maybe." Brunhild turned to see Ahab walking towards her.
*******
"When we killed Skull Face, " Ahab told Brunhild as they stood side by side in front of Strangelove's tombstone. ", and retrieved Sahelanthropus, Miller told me something."
"Pretentious? What I thought too." Ahab chuckled. Brunhild gave a small smile.
"Yes, but I think that is a sentiment the Boss would agree with."
"How so?" Ahab knew from Big Boss' memories what the answer probably was, but he wanted to see if the nacient leader in Brunhild would piece it together.
"If what the AI said was anything like the original, then I figure she was fine with pain. She gave it all up…" Brunhild paused, then shook her head. "She was fine with taking the pain onto herself if it meant nobody else would have to do it again. That's the one thread I can come up with that connects all the tangents. The world united, those Philosopher people, soldiers being free of politicians, it's about nobody getting hurt. "
Ahab grunted in acknowledgement. "You're pretty good, for someone who only got scraps and rumors to go off of."
The normally calm young woman told herself the blush was her body reacting to the cold. She'd been complimented by the senior members of Diamond Dogs before, she didn't get a reaction from them.
"When I was first taken as Boss' apprentice at sixteen, she had me go through basic training in the Army. Learn how to be a normal soldier first." That much was true, as Big Boss' memories attested. What would come next was something of a mixture. "After that, I was supposed to choose a speciality as an officer while continuing her special training. I chose to be a field medic."
Brunhild looked surprised. Ahab admitted it was a rather incredible though. The legendary infiltrator and CQC expert, Big Boss, holding a scalpel, setting up a pressure bandage, or running triage? Most people didn't consider that Big Boss had to patch himself back together on more than a few occasions. And Ahab's patient record? There'd been a reason Big Boss had recruited him for MSF.
"She never gave me a moment of slack during the two years I was at Fort Sam Houston. She always pushed me to the limit and beyond. Made the successive lessons build off of each other. That's really what made me the soldier I am today." At least, the start of becoming Big Boss. "But the thing that's stuck with me the most over my life is something the head instructor at San Houston taught me. He was 101st Airborne. He'd enlisted in '42 and made combat jumps in both Normandy and Holland." Ahab fondly recalled the modest, unassuming man who stood in front of charts giving lectures. A man who never looked like he'd jumped out of exploding airplanes, endured frostbite conditions to keep men alive, and physically held one of his own arteries shut until another medic could tie it off. "He said the most important thing you had to learn as an officer and a medic was...", Ahab paused, then figured he might as well put it bluntly, "... was how to deal with loss. When you get down in the mud and blood, sometimes all you end up doing is coming up with your comrade's dead body in your arms."
Nodding, the pale woman murmured. "Triage. In the moment, you must be able to make rapid decisions of who to save, who to turn away, and who to give comfort and let pass." Ahab noticed she was back to more of her normal demeanor, her face level and placid. But her eyes still swam with intense emotion. "In the civilian world, this is incomprehensible to doctors. All patients are to be saved, at any cost."
Ahab returned the nod. "We all have to save everyone we can. But we're not miracle workers. We're going to fail at some point." He paused, then turned and pointed at her.
"You know what Boss meant by reality betraying her? She was assigned to the Bay of Pigs invasion. Trained many of the Cuban exiles herself. Yet orders from Washington made her sit and watch them all be butchered. It was the first time she'd felt betrayed by her country. She walked down that road, and it led to Operations Virtuous Mission and Snake Eater."
As he took out his Phantom Cigar, Wormwood mixture absent, and ignited it with his prosthetic, Ahab continued. "At first I thought she was a traitor too, like the rest of the world. But in Diamond Dogs, I realized that I was just running from the world. Trying to avoid losing anyone else." This, Ahab concluded, was why Ishmael went in hiding. First The Boss, then MSF. The idea of losing his family a third time was too much for him. Even as he wanted a new one. Ironic, how it took the shadow to figure out what the man was denying to himself. "But that's what I learned about myself. In the end, I didn't understand her either. I don't have any answers for why The Boss said everything she said, did all she did. And I don't know whether your conclusion is right or not."
Brunhild frowned at this. Ahab could tell this night would be something the logic-focused girl would be analyzing and turning over in her head for a long time afterwards. "I don't know if The Boss was a woman too broken to fix things, a patriot to a greater cause, or a hero for herself."
"A hero…" Brunhild's change of subject was not an entirely unsurprising reaction. "Boss, I know this is a different subject, but do you think I could really be a hero someday? That I could break my own limits?" Ahab knew Brunhild's mental issues with her own self-worth ran nearly as deep as her lung scarring.
He gently clapped her on the shoulder. "Sure. You're in a company of them, after all. You'll figure out a way."
As the young woman from East Germany gave a small, but genuine smile, Ahab made a decision.
Time to have a heart to heart with the man in the mirror.
Word count: 2575
Oooooh god did this one have me nervous as hell. Despite one of the most popular QMs on the site, @Dr. Snark, on two occasions giving a thumbs up, I can't shake the feeling I made mistakes along the way. For one, this is more or less chapter 6 of Brunhild's story arc. That, by itself, means I'm skipping tons of character development. Namely, that she's opened up alot more, and her motive is getting as close to the source material as possible to run this near-deified woman's beliefs through her own criteria to see if she can get behind it.
When I'd originally put the character together before the reboot began, I'd planned on having Brunhild met Mother Pod and have a bit of a round table debate with Ocelot and Miller in regards to their competing perspectives. When the prompt got handed out, all I had to do was swap out those two for Ahab. That meant I still had roughly two thirds of an omake that didn't focus around the character the prompt said it was supposed to be. The other thing is the background into Ahab I put in to try and even out the length, give Ahab's thoughts more into the spotlight. Again, Dr. Snark was pretty much the inspiration for it, and gave it a thumbs up... but given I'm making a background from nothing, that's still me kinda overstepping. Even if it's all or partially a lie, that's something iffy.
So, just a wwwwwwe bit of an anncountment, to prevent any possible confusion down the line.
I'm not doing the Ocelot Ghost In The Machine omake, I just can't get into the guys head, but someone else did agree to give it a shot instead. I'm not naming names, so that way in case it doesn't work out, nobody can blame anyone else or something similiar.
Instead, I will now be trying to finish my Huey Omake, if not tonight then tomorrow, cause writing that was actually relaxing.
Hahaha...it really is impressive just how productive you can be, when your working on something you value more then yourself, for people you care about more then yourself...when your probable death is just around the corner. Honestly, the fact that my hands aren't shaking, and that I haven't...had an accident yet, is great! It would really slow down my work and I can't afford that right now! I need to get Sahelanthropus repaired before my trail for...
*Gunfire, explosions, screaming everywhere as the men and women of MSF are gunned down by the inspection you allowed on Mother Base. YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT! LET ME OUT HUEY!*
SLAM! Deep Breaths Huey! Calm down! You don't have time for this! Shaking my head, I pick up my tools, and continue repairing what will in all likelihood by my final gift to Big Boss and the others of Mother Base. I can't ignore the blood on my hands anymore...I can't ignore all the people killed because of me...how many died because of my naivety? My hubris? My inventions? I know exactly how many people died in XOF's attack on Mother Base, three hundred and twenty one men and women, soldiers that were one and all dedicated to making the world a better place dead. Because of me.
*Replace the broken containment units for the Metallic Archaea with the help of Doctor George, careful careful careful can not allow an accidental release of the microorganisms on Mother Base, use the depleted uranium from the disarmed nukes to repair the armor, remove the self destruct function, the world no longer needs the threat of nuclear deterrence*
But that's only the start of my sins! Nine Years! Big Boss was in a Coma for Nine Years! He lost his Arm because of that attack! MSF was shattered and all the good they could have done was destroyed! The Diamond Dogs under Snake have helped so many lives! We've protected so many innocent people from hostile armies or PMC's, we've helped set so many unfortunate victims of war on the path to a better future, we've almost finished our mission of making a nuke free world! Even if it's just a day, even if our message doesn't move the people of the world today, that message for a better tomorrow will remain! Someone will pick it up and carry it on into the future!
*Repair the damaged head sensors, negative damage too extensive, need a complete replacement. Order assistants to hurry no time to waste. Remove, replace, secure, next. Remove the arms, disassemble disassemble disassemble, remove the archaea blades, and place in special containment unit. Blade one is mostly intact but flexibility is damaged. Blade two is extensively damaged, testing testing, archaea manipulators almost completely destroyed. Full replacement of blade two is required. Blade one is easily repairable. Direct assistants to blade one, direct personal attention to blade two, request Doctor George's assistance.*
Snake and the others could have been doing this nine years ago! Unburdened by the pain and rage of everything they've lost! Of everything I've cost them! When I killed MSF I killed an entire decade of hope! How many children like Hana and Eli would be alive and happy, away from war, and living a better life right now if not for me? How many dead husbands and murdered sons would still be alive to support and protect their families if it wasn't for me?!
*I've sent Hal to the United States. He'll live a peaceful life there, like a normal child, and not the pilot for this machine of death you built!*
How many wives would still have their children and husbands if MSF had been there to rescue them?!
*Huey! Let me out! This isn't funny! LET ME OUT!*
How many children would grow up with their parents if MSF had still been here?!
*Hal cries and cries and cries I hear him whenever I sleep I'm sorry son I'm so so sorry!*
DAMN IT! I drop my tools and stomp over to the table where Snake and I had our...talk...and the bottle of bourbon he left there. Fill coffee cup, chug, back to work. Doctor George just watches me, watches my steps and my body language, but he doesn't have to worry. I've calculated the exact amount of alcohol I can ingest without hampering my thought process and not gone even a drop over it. I won't fail in this. I just need a little help to keep the memories down while I finish my final work.
*Carefully remove the broken archaea manipulators, slowly test remainder to ensure full functionality, metals dissolve at optimal rates, good. Place replacement manipulators in the appropriate slots. Ensure the blade's flexibility, corrosives, and metal shaping is without flaws. No flaws to be seen, wonderful, assistants have fixed blade one, begin full blade and arm reassembly, then reattachment.*
Even then...my greatest crime....oh my love I am so sorry. I was so furious that you sent Hal away from us...from me...and...and...and I murdered you! I trapped you in your greatest creation and left you to suffocate to death!
*HUEY! LET ME OUT!*
I was a coward! I feared what Sahelanthropus would do in the hands of Skullface, so I wished to use our child to pilot it, to try and prevent it from being misused! But I never told you that! I never bothered to explain myself! I was too scared, too awkward, to talk to you about such a great responsibility that I wished to force on our infant son! So you sent him away, away from his parents to America where Cipher's power was strongest, and you wanted to use an AI to pilot this Metal Gear instead. I couldn't stand it! Something as terrible as Sahelanthropus, being driven by an emotionless AI, that was controlled by Skullface? He would mass produce them, control every single iteration personally, and use them to help enforce his twisted vision over the world!
*LET ME OUT!*
*Archaea grenade dispensers, completely broken, full replacement necessary. Assistants will handle the firing mechanisms, ensure secure placement of archaea munitions, retrieve firing mechanisms, install, test with empty shell. Test successful, repeat, test successful, good. Install munitions, reapply armor, secure, continue...pause. Vision is obstructed.*
I have to wipe my eyes on my lab coat, I can't afford to have blurry vision when handling such dangerous materials, but I can't help but freeze up when I feel a hand on my shoulder. Looking down into the ancient eyes of Doctor George, the man stares at me for a brief moment that seems to last for far too long, before his hand gently squeezes my shoulder. The look in his eyes....I don't deserve it.....but I can't deny that we are similar in some regards. Two researchers, hoping to make the world a better place, only to have our greatest inventions turned into weapons of mass destruction by a mad man. His soul isn't nearly as black as mine....but I won't turn away any support he wants to offer...I need to finish the repairs before my trail....and I can't deny that I'm still utterly terrified of when that day comes.
*Surveillance Mines and launching system. Mines depleted, order replacements, launching system intact. Test fire, success, test fire, success. Results optimal. Move on to next objective.*
I don't want to die. That's the simple truth here. I'm a coward who wants to live for as long as I can. Even with all the blood on my hands, all the crimes I've committed, I want to live.....but what I want doesn't matter anymore. I'm tired of being a coward, I'm tired of running away from my problems, I'm tired of seeing Hal and Strangelove whenever I close my eyes. I'm....I'm just so tired. Whatever happens during my trial...I'll accept Snake's judgement. Heh I can't deny how fitting this fate is for me. I'm only capable of being brave, of facing my sins, after they've been shoved in face, and when I no longer have the ability to run away from them.
*Disassemble legs, extract guided missile launch system, examine for faults. Armor heavily damaged, launch system damaged, missiles depleted, radome guidance system completely destroyed. Order replacement missiles, direct assistance to repairing the launch system, personally construct a new radome system. Test fire dud missiles. Accuracy acceptable, speed within parameters, explosive force within expectations. Load new launch system, load missiles, final check of missile/radome connections. All green.*
I'll need to make sure I have enough time after the repairs are finished to write down a step by step process on how to repair or reconstruct Sahelanthropus. I won't be around to handle the more delicate or critical repairs, so the other research personnel are going to have to step up, and without a guide they are liable to make a mistake during repairs, let alone if they have to construct a new model from the ground up. Hm...I should probably leave some suggestions for new armor material and how to expand the cockpit. With Snake's reputation and finances, I'm sure he'll be able to get a superior quantity and quality of materials then XOF, even if the world powers try to deny him, the black market is sure to provide. He'd probably appreciate being the one piloting a Metal Gear instead of being the one fighting it on foot for once!
*Disassemble head unit, examine gatling gun system, ammunition is depleted but system is intact. Order replacement ammunition, inspect cockpit, heavy damage. Extensive rewiring and repair is needed, extensive attention is needed, order assistants to inspect the status of frontal flamethrower and overall structural integrity while busy.*
Still, as much as I don't want to admit it, this won't be enough to keep everyone safe. The entire world is about to come crashing down on the Diamond Dogs' heads, and for all that Sahelanthropus will sink battleships by the handful thanks to it's railgun, numbers will tell the score in the end. It can only target one enemy at a time with it's railgun, it has a limited amount of missiles to target aircraft, and it can only fire in one direction. Motherbase will be hit from all sides and this won't be enough. The nuclear self-destruct would deter any invasion force, but that would spit in the face of everything Snake is trying to prove to the world, and if I know what's coming then I'm damn sure he did before he even agreed to launch the operation. I won't spit on the sacrifice he's choosing to make.
*Cockpit is fully repaired, check with assistants, flamethrower was damaged and fuel was expended, repairs and refueling were easily carried out, good. Reassemble head unit, reattach flamethrower, move on to railgun. Railgun itself is intact, ammunition is lacking, order replacements. Test connection to surveillance mines, test successful, test connections to radome, test successful, data transfer speeds optimal.*
Hm...the line of sight requirement is a problem. It can be circumvented through the use of surveillance mines, but once they are shot down or launched at enemy vehicles, Sahelanthropus loses the ability to hit targets it can't directly see. This wastes the incredible penetrative power of it's railgun so how to go about fixing that? Infrared...no at the required ranges it wouldn't penetrate anything that could block Sahelanthropus's vision. X-Ray would be ideal, but range is the greatest issue, perhaps...that would solve the range easily, but the cost of sending a satellite into space for the express purpose of providing real time tactical data, would be absurd. No that wouldn't work. I have a few more days before my trail, so I'll give it more thought while I write my instructions for how to repair and build Sahelanthropus, hopefully I have something by then.
As I look up at the Metal Gear, standing tall and unbroken in the fresh dawn light of my lab, I sigh in relief. The exhaustion is bone-marrow deep at this point, I've barely slept, and I've barely ate in days. Frankly the only reason I'm still standing is because my legs are mechanical, if I was still using my wheelchair, I'd have passed out in it by now. Even so, it's done, my final gift to Snake and the others is finished. When I'm gone, Sahelanthropus will protect Mother Base and The Diamond Dogs in my stead, and it won't be capable of making the same mistakes it's creator did. I grab the almost empty bottle of bourbon sitting on my desk, my coffee cup, and I walk to the wide window set in my lab. The ocean is calm, the sky is clear, night is falling away, and a new day is dawning.
The long cold night of nuclear annihilation, and mutually assured destruction, is being burned away by the light of a new dawn, and Snake is it's herald. Yeah....this is good...a day like this...Is A Good Day To Die.
I remember thinking that if the designs of the sci-fi techs in Metal Gear had followed a chronological order rather than game release order, then by the time Snake was an operative Knightmare frame expys would be in circulation. Functionally like Full Metal Panic, but mobile in a way similar to Code Geass mechs.
4 Covert Cells of 5 men each for a total of 20 men
Man has been passing down better methods to kill since the dawn of time. These Diamond Dogs have the theoretical and practical skills required to turn civilians into relatively competent fighters in a short span of time. Use them when needing to turn an ineffective insurrection into a deadly one. They're pretty good when working as attaches to foreign militaries as well.
If the nameless go "rogue" again I want to nab them all. Militia and vc4 people are probably different on an individual level, but nameless would fit. Partially because their personalities not necessarily matching up making interactions more interesting.
If the nameless go "rogue" again I want to nab them all. Militia and vc4 people are probably different on an individual level, but nameless would fit. Partially because their personalities not necessarily matching up making interactions more interesting.
Nooooooot really no. I already did a breakdown on the recruitment potential of Nameless unit, check the Informational Tab titled 'Future Fulton Extraction Targets' and maybe half of them would actually fit inside the Diamond Dogs.
I'm fairly certain the upper command of 7 is in the operator/fox range.
Welk is certainly Fox maybe even Foxhound levels of bullshit. I mean he regularly takes his slightly more advanced then average tank and wipes out Dozens of enemy tanks while coordinating his squad managing his medics and useing his tactical and nature based skills to great effect. I wasn't joking too much when I compared him to creed.
Can't say the rest are on that level (Squad E has at least 3 people at Fox level at least)
Sure they will benefit from some extra training but it's not going to be a huge impact.
Same with the AK sure it's better then the rifles the scouts are using but it's not a massive increase and Ed's the headache of managing their supply when we are the only source of rounds for those guns
