Angel of God,
my guardian dear,
To whom God's love
commits me here,
Ever this day,
be at my side,
To light and guard,
Rule and guide.

2000 meters.

Somewhere, a little girl, on this war-torn world, is praying that heavenly angels would come down and save her family from evil.

"ETA: 2 minutes. Over."

Here we come.

The parachutes opened. The SAS team was closing rapidly on the Landing Castle.

Stockholm, 4 A.M. sharp. What was left of the city was still burning.

"Roger that, Bravo Two Zero. Maintain decent. You have not been detected yet. Over."

It didn't take long for the armies of the world to understand exactly how utterly outclassed they were. Any and all conventional attacks resulted in disaster. To top it off, the invaders care little for the lives of civilians. The acts of genocide committed by the Vers Empire rivaled even those of the Nazis in World War 2.

We've beaten evil once, we can do it again.

The soldiers landed on the Martian fortress.

"Home Base, we've reached checkpoint Zulu. We're moving in. How Copy? Over."

"Roger, Bravo Two Zero. Proceed as planned. Happy hunting, gentlemen."

"Commencing radio silence. Bravo Two Zero out."

The cold northern wind was blowing. Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes checked the status of the other teams on his HUD. They were all in position and getting ready.

"Bravo Two Zero, this is Bravo Two One. The entry here is blocked. Please advise. Over."

"Prep breaching charges, Two One. Over."

"Wilco. Two One out."

"Colonel," a soldier on the squad said, "looks like we have the same problem."

The plans they had on the Landing Castles showed various entry points, but not whether they were open at the time of the attack. It didn't matter. They were prepared.

"Demo, do you job," said Hughes.

"Thought you'd never ask." The unoriginally nicknamed 'Demo' was the squad's demolitions specialist. A bit of a pyromaniac, but one hell of a soldier. "P for plenty."

"Don't blow us up." The third member of the squad was the team's designated marksman.

"Have some faith, Ghost. I'm the man!"

"Hurry up, Demo, we breach in thirty."

"Don't rush an artist, sir."

The fourth squad member remained silent.

"Done."

"Mute, what's your reading?"

'Mute' was in charge of the motion tracker. He didn't talk much. He took a look at the Colonel and made an OK sign. No need for grenades.

"Good. Stack up." The men complied. The HUD showed that all teams were ready to attack. "This is Bravo Two Zero. Breach in 5. Out."

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

"Breach!"

"Boom, baby!" The shaped charges blew a perfect square in the Landing Castle's wall.

"Go! Go! Go!"

The command deck lit up.

"Count Salazar! We have intruders on–"

"What?! Guards, take me immediately to my Cataphract."

"But, my lord, shouldn't we stay put and–"

"Silence!" the count roared. "You will do as I ask! I will not sit idly while these puny primates infest my ship like cockroaches!"

"Yes, my lord!"

"Bravo Two Zero, this is Bravo Two Two. We've hacked into their system. The target is moving towards the hangar. Escort: four guards. How copy? Over."

"Roger that, Two Two. We're moving to intercept. Out. Demo, bring up the map."

"Roger that! 3D map coming up, courtesy of Prometheus."

Prometheus was a mole MI6 had inside the Orbital Knights' entourage. He had proven invaluable the previous 15 years, leaking intel and schematics to the British.

The squad systematically cleared every hallway, easily dispatching Martians cleanly with their silenced rifles whenever necessary. Moving swiftly and easily surprising guards ensured the enemy didn't fire a shot. Between the silence of their advance and squad two having hacked the monitoring system, the Martians had lost track of them. There was little resistance.

*pht* *pht* "Five."

"This isn't a contest, Ghost."

"Perfect op. Enemy hasn't fired a shot… They have no idea where we are… I love suppressors."

"Target is just over the corner. Set up ambush!"

Just as the count and his entourage entered the next hallway, Ghost tackled the closest guard, pushed him to the wall and tore his throat out with his combat knife. His teammates simply shot the remaining three soldiers dead.

"What is the meaning of–" The count's complaint was interrupted by a swift strike to the head. The Colonel hit him with the butt of his gun, not hard enough to knock him out, but close. "How dare you…"

"Who dares, wins," said Demo, before fist bumping Ghost.

"You're coming with us, you son of a…" Hughes stopped. He reached for his radio. "Bravo Two Zero to all Bravo Two elements. Target secured. We're going for the main deck. Proceed as planned. Out."

"How are you able to communicate? We're jamming everything!"

"Quantum-entangled particles. What, you think we've been staying on our asses for 15 years?"

"Don't talk to the hostage, Demo."

"Sorry, boss."

Five minutes later, all squads had reached the command deck. It was sealed from the inside.

"Open up or we'll shoot your count," ordered Hughes.

Silence.

"Do it, you fools!" ordered Salazar.

The doors opened. The squad stormed it.

"Hands in the air!" Ghost shouted. "Move away from the consoles! On your knees, now! Hands behind your back!"

There was no resistance, no guards on the deck. The squad rapidly cuffed most of the crew.

"Open a Castle wide channel," the Colonel ordered one of the crew who hadn't been cuffed.

"Do it!" shouted the count. The gun pointed at his head made him quite cooperative.

"This is Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes of the SAS," spoke the soldier into the microphone. "We have your count hostage. You are all to stand down and deactivate all offensive and defensive systems or we will execute the count and everyone on deck."

"Unbelievable!" the count complained. "To be held hostage by you inferior beings! I will have you beaten to death for this–"

"Shut. Up," ordered Hughes, staring Salazar down. The count complied.

"The defenses are down. We've done as you ordered. What now?" asked a Vers officer, visibly shaken.

"Now, we wait." Hughes grabbed his radio. "Home Base, this is Bravo Two Zero, we've taken the Castle. I repeat, we've taken the Castle. You are cleared to approach. Over."

"Roger that, Two One." A wave of cheers could be heard in the background. "We're dispatching the Royal Dragoons transports presently. Great work!"

"Can't wait to beat these bastards to the end so we can start trials. We'd hang most of the officers for war crimes. Ah, public executions, that'd teach them. We'd broadcast them to Mars as well."

"Baby steps, Ghost. We've only just begun. Have patience."

Meanwhile at the British Central Command Headquarters.

"This is Bravo Two One. Castle One is taken. Over."

"This is Bravo Two Three. We have Castle Three. Over."

"Bravo Two Four. Home Base, you're clear for Castle Four. Over."

The tide had turned.

Field Marshal Greenberg watched the display as red dots changed to green one by one. Following their lead, the Spetsnaz and the United States Army Special Forces took their share of Landing Castles. By the time Martian invasion force had realized what was going on, half of their fortresses on Earth were gone, and the next step was already underway.

"The operation is a success," he said to a blonde man who had just entered the room.

"Good job, Adrian! The Queen is proud. We've done a great favor to the people of Britain."

"To the whole world, if this keeps up."

"It's not the first time we've faced revolution."

"Might not be, but nothing compares to this. At least the yanks didn't attack us after a couple of years."

"What's the final count?"

"3 KIA. 4 wounded."

"That's good."

"The Russians weren't so lucky. By the time they acted, the enemy was prepared."

"What about the yanks?"

"Same."

"Still, we got more than enough Castles. Between the Soviets, the US and us, we've turned the tide."

"Sir, the Royal Dragoons are ready and standing by," interrupted an officer.

"Proceed as planned."

"Yes, sir." The officer turned to the screen. "All Dragoons, you are cleared for launch."

The next step of the plan was to use the captured Cataphracts to take out as many of the remaining enemy Castles as possible, using what was left of their element of surprise.

"Have all Castles under our control take off. They'll start orbital bombardment soon."

"Sir, the first transports have arrived."

The blonde's face lit up. "Ah, shall we entertain our guests? Adrian, do join me."

"Of course, I want to see the look on their face. Lead the way, Richard."

The SAS troopers got off the chopper with a blindfolded prisoner.

"That won't be necessary. He's not getting out of here alive," Richard waved his hand at the SAS officer. The prisoner flinched.

"Yes, sir."

"Count Salazar, I presume. Welcome to our humble establishment."

The count's pupils contracted as light once again entered his eyes. Half blinded, he could still discern a large hangar filled with busy troops, combat vehicles and what appeared to be surprisingly advanced Cataphracts, as he was brought to an interrogation room. A young lady, dressed in a French maid outfit, served them tea, before leaving the room.

"Allow us to introduce ourselves: I am Richard Stanfield, Lord Protector of Britain, and this is Field Marshal Adrian Greenberg, Great General of the Royal Army. Welcome to Coldstream Headquarters of Her Majesty's Armed Forces," said the blonde man before taking a sip of his tea. The count didn't even look at his cup. Unable to keep his calm anymore, he erupted.

"But… how?! All reports suggested you were utterly incapable of any resistance, disarmed and in a state of anarchy! How in the world could you pull this off? Britain should be harmless!" The count was shocked. His spies couldn't have been wrong. The Orbital Knights decided not to target London because the United Kingdom was not a threat. Or so they thought.

As if waiting for that question with a premade answer, Greenberg spoke:

"All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when we are able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must appear inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far. For this, simply let the enemy's own spy sow discord in his camp."

The count was speechless.

"Sun Tzu. His work was revolutionary at the time, but to me, it's as if he's stating the obvious. Still, he makes for good quotes."

"We own your spies, count. Each and every report you received from Britain first passed over my desk." Stanfield smiled deviously. "Appear weak where you are strong, and strong where you are weak. The UFE liked this plan very much. We were their secret weapon. You see, the victorious win first and then go to war, while the defeated go to war first and only then seek to win."

"What do you want with me?"

"Straight to the point, I see. I like that!" Stanfield's devious look vanished from his face. The man returned to his warm smile. "Nothing really, we'll just keep you here well and alive so that the Aldnoah drives remain active. If you're nice and cooperate, you'll have a pleasant stay. If not, we'll keep you sedated. Activate some new drives for us, and who knows, maybe we'll even go easy on you at the coming war trials."

The count laughed. "Trials? You would have us nobles on trial? You have no right!"

"That's what the aristocrats said during the French Revolution. Do you know how they ended up?" sarcastically noted Greenberg. "Beheaded!"

"You will never defeat us!" the count barked.

"Soldiers when in desperate straits lose the sense of fear. If they will face death, there is nothing they may not achieve. Officers and men alike will put forth their uttermost strength." Greenberg quoted Sun Tzu again. "Humanity is no longer fighting for foolish reasons. We are fighting for survival. Vers had pushed Earth into a corner, but a cornered beast fights the more viciously in its desperation."

"Know one thing, count… We will never give up."