The words crackled in my ears as I stood opposite my commanding officer’s stationary avatar, watching it jostle the weighty minigun to get a better grip. We’d been on this continent for five hours already, observing the front line of battle sweep one way, and then the other. PlanetSide can be cruel with your fortunes, as a convincing advance can turn into a frustrating back pedal and leave you wondering when the hell it all suddenly changed. Maybe a few squads-worth of soldiers decided to abandon the fray and find another continent to get their simulated future war kicks, or maybe they just decided to log off and do better things. Either way, for those left it’s a slow, painful death through attrition.
At some point the majority of the remaining task force retreats from the battle altogether and goes to fight somewhere it can win. It’s not a shameful admission to say that my outfit’s normally part of that majority. We spawn in the safety of our sanctuary and take ten minutes to re-tool, get some vehicles, maybe take a piss and then wind up the war machine once again, putting it down at the entry-point to a new continent and letting it thunder off across the map.