Remus War Panda

Remus wearing his Calamus Prime Armour

By Sergeant Remus (yes, really 😂)

“Right then, let me tell you how it really went down…”

Long before the Roman Empire even dreamt of their little island adventure to Britannia, in a planetary system far beyond the Watford Gap, a very different kind of invasion was underway.

The Tuskars, aka the Empire of the Elephant Men (if you can imagine such a thing), were stomping their iron-clad feet across planets, making anything the human empires ever managed look like a bar fight in a pub with no beer.

These twenty-metre brutes were all shoot first, don’t bother asking questions. All tusks and muscle, amped up on a madness-inducing combat drug that erased pain and fear. Their superiority complex was large enough to eclipse the twin suns of the Dead Heart Realm.

Small planets crumbled beneath them. Populations were either wiped out or enslaved. And like all bullies, they believed — yes, truly believed — that nothing in the void could scratch their hides, let alone defeat them.

Until us.

The War Pandas.

We hailed from Calamus Prime, a lush, green world practically drowning in sky-high bamboo forests. That was our homeland.

For eons, life was peaceful — and yes, we lived very much like the pandas you’d know. Lots of eating. Plenty of climbing (we’re surprisingly good at it). And the occasional tumble down a hill — great for a laugh, like being a furry bowling ball.

The XTylos Offer
Then the XTylos showed up.
Strange robotic wanderers. Not a scrap of organic material on them, and a deeply unsettling obsession with genetics and weaponry. They weren’t exactly impressed with our laid-back lifestyle.

“Lazy,” they droned, their metallic voices slicing through the bamboo.
But after some time observing us through their cold, unblinking optics, they saw something else: potential.
They laid it out, cold and logical:
“Join us. Become more. Defend the stars. Or face oblivion.”
A stark choice.

Some baulked and vanished into the deepest groves. But a few of us saw another path. That’s how the first War Pandas were created. Enhanced warriors, bonded to titan armour. Engineered for battle.

Still undeniably huggable — just ask politely.

Sergeant Remus Reporting
And me?

I became Sergeant Remus.
Thirty-seven campaigns under my belt, each one a story in itself. I was decorated for bravery, but according to my battle group, it was mostly for my “lovable charm.”

(chuckles)

Yeah, right.

My unit were like brothers and sisters. Sure, we were ferocious in a fight — but the rest of the time, we were sensitive souls, looking out for each other and for the civilians under our protection. Way I see it, everyone deserves a bit of respect.

They called me “Grizzly Whisperer” after the Zeltox incident.

We came across a twelve-metre-tall Zeltox bear in a very bad mood. Berserk. Teeth and claws like titanium blades.

I stood my ground, cracked a few jokes, and offered a flask of my best honey — with a splash of “falling-down juice.”

(We genetically enhanced pandas can eat and drink just about anything.)

Calmed the old fella right down. Turned out he was just hungry and had argued with his wife. She’d refused to cook dinner.

Frozen in Time
The Tuskar Wars were a brutal affair.
Billions died. Trillions were displaced. It was only right the XTylos wanted us to help take down the long-nosed brutes.
World after world.
Charge after charge.
We took the fight straight into their lines. We gave as good as we got.
But fate — well, fate has a habit of tripping you up when your boots are full of ambition.
During the final push on their ridiculously smelly home world, my dropship took a hit. Enemy disruptor. Lucky for them — bad for me.

The ship spun out of control. Damage was mostly superficial, but the nav system? Totalled.
Cryo-stasis engaged.
A last-ditch protocol to keep me ticking.
And so, I drifted. Frozen solid.
For centuries.
Beyond maps.
Beyond wars.
Beyond memory.

Crash-Landing on Earth
Until a cosmic hiccup — an unstable wormhole, built by those jokers the Greys (yes, the same little grey guys who love shoving probes up humans’ butts) — swallowed my pod and spat it out somewhere new.
Earth.
My sensors kicked in as I entered the atmosphere, detected life — and then proceeded to crash.
Thankfully, I landed in a boggy patch in a quiet valley in the Scottish Borders.
Aric later told me it could’ve been so much worse. A lab. A military base. Or a hunter’s butcher block.
I burst from the pod, disoriented and starving.
Instinct kicked in:
Secure the perimeter. Find allies. Find food.

All I found were sheep, timid, twitchy sheep.
They bolted before I could even say hello.
And a patch of surprisingly tasty nettles.
Some days later, on a recon mission, I stumbled across someone who’d become my best friend on Earth: Aric.
He’s a bit odd (like all humans), a bit of a recluse, and spends hours fiddling with gadgets and screens. He’s always dreaming up wild plans and is fascinated by anything unusual — which, apparently, I well and truly am.
He took me in. Gave me a place to crash.

To repay the favour, I cobbled together a little AI from the wreckage of my ship. Named him MC Wordy — because he never shuts up.
Aric even gave him glasses and a bow tie, because apparently, that’s the official nerd look.

The three of us, an unlikely crew.
I’m no longer Sergeant of the War Panda Elite.
Now I face Earth’s strangest challenges:

Tech debates
Biscuit shortages
Staying hidden
According to Aric, a seven-foot military panda attracts the wrong kind of attention.
And judging by the news?
He’s probably right.

Final Thoughts
I miss Calamus Prime.
I miss my squad.
I miss a world where violence was a last resort — not a form of entertainment.
But for now, the borderlands between England and Scotland are my home.
And who knows?

The cosmos has a habit of throwing curveballs when you least expect them.
Maybe I’ll see my birth world again… if it’s still there.
It’s been an awfully long time.
And everyone I ever knew?
They’re long gone.

Well…
With that cheery thought, I’ll leave it there — for now.