AN: I had no idea that a crossover like this would generate such positive response, I'm amazed!

Anyway, in keeping up with the tradition, the second chapter of this new fanfiction will be posted within days after the first chapter. Detailing the continuation of the First Contact. As always, I dont take sides, I just try to describe a realistic first contact between pre-Mass Effect turians and UNSC-led war-time humanity.

Unknown System, 2157

Onboard Turian Hierarchy Heavy Frigate Empire's Wrath

In a flash of the brightest blue, the Empire's Wrath came to a sudden halt, having just been booted several hundred lightyears in the blink of an eye. The vessel was but one of a larger pack of warships within the 124th Turian Patrol, and would play its role without incident.

The Captain of the Frigate all but glared at his consoles as the crew went about their duties. Perhaps a core discharge was necessary, putting the Wrath out of commission for a few hours? A few days?

No, static build-up was nowhere near as close as he wanted it…

Shield emitters damaged? No, kinetic barriers were at a hundred percent. Damnit…

However much he wanted something to go awry and set back the expedition by a few years, all the readouts were normal. They had no choice but to press on, so he merely sighed and demanded, "Status report."

The ship's navigational Officer was quick to respond. "All readouts normal. Drift…just under 15."

Solitus rolled with his eyes. 15 was perfect. Glorious, in fact. As the Captain, he was elated to have his ship run at 15. Alas, if only the drift had been less perfect. "Great…"

If there was one good thing to come out of this whole mess, it was that they had beat the Salarians to exploring this system. This unexplored arm of the galaxy had been baffling them for centuries. After all, it didn't happen often that an entire swath of space was nearly impossible to reach via the Mass Relay System. Such findings often started theories. Wild, crazy theories about conspiracies.

The scientific team aboard the Primarch's Choice had to be eager to start their work at the Relay. Despite trying his hardest to stay out of this whole mess, Captain Solitus had been unable to completely shut out all chatter about this expedition.

The connecting Relay of Relay 314 was what the Asari called a 'Prime Relay'. Skipping over all the techno babble that all the researchers threw around, such a Relay could connect to whatever other Relays they might find in the unexplored arm. The connecting Relay might open up this entire arm for exploring, should any fool arise who would actually want such a thing.

Curses…the Legionnaires in the cargo hold were readying their ground assault vehicles. For what purpose? Surely the Hierarchy did not intend to go to war with whatever species they found? The Hierarchy was militaristic, but not to such an extent!

Solitus quickly discarded the notion of the Hierarchy organizing an entire fleet just to pick a fight. Nobody in the higher-ups were that stupid.

What were they all getting their hopes up for, anyway? They might not discover anything. Maybe some uninhabitable rocks and asteroids, or some juvenile species worshipping the Relay like a deity. And then what would the mighty General Levitcus do? Shoot them?

Actually, that was just like Levitcus…

Solitus quickly shook his head and focused on the screens. "Bring the Empire's sensors online. I want to make sure we don't land in the middle of an angry fleet."

"All systems online and functioning, Captain. Whoever activated that Relay didn't vandalize it; Mass Effect core energy readings are stable."

So the species that had achieved a high-enough technological tier to activate the Mass Relay understood the implications of the device. Good; they weren't savages then. Primitive perhaps, but not savage.

Solitus nodded and then eyed his readings. A normal star, average-sized. Two gas giants, one garden world and a moon. One asteroid field-

Garden world? That would be the origin of his mysterious new species then. Hopefully he would not be seeing its surface for the coming day; he would like to see the sights of the planet without having to scooch past the corpses. The Hierarchy was very thorough when it came to perceived threats.

"Captain!" Yelled one of his officers. "Contact! Five unidentified vessels in fight formation between our fleet and the planet!"

Solitus felt his stomach clench. This is it. He activated the shipwide communication channel and yelled, "Captain Solitus to all crewmembers, battle stations!"

The fleet started fanning out, away from the Relay. All the other commanding officers must have found the same results as well.

Captain Solitus received orders from the Fleet Commander. He was to stay in formation until they engaged the enemy, and then link up with two other Frigates and engage the enemy in hit-and-run attacks.

However, as the 124th Scout Patrol started approaching the planet, one of the officers at his station discovered something disturbing.

"Captain, no Element Zero readings. I repeat, no Element Zero readings. These ships are not built with Prothean technology."

Soliotus frowned. "Impossible. All FTL requires Element Zero. What other tech makes space travel possible?"

"Unknown Captain. However, are we certain this species activated the Relay? Element Zero is required to do such a thing."

Yes, it was impossible. However, Solitus' father had taught him that in space warfare, nothing was impossible. If you found yourself facing something impossible, mistakes were made.

Unless…did this species find a different way? Had their technology branched out along a different path, unguided by the Prothean data caches? "Ready all weapons, but hold your fire. Let us see what they do."

~0~

1640 Hours, November 27th, 2526 (UNSC Military Calendar)/

UNSC Destroyer Dragonbreath, en route planet Shanxi

The day had started so well. Watching a full-contact spar between Tara and Blake, followed up by a good meal and forty-five minutes of freetime to contact family and friends and just talk. No reassuring, no worrying, just plain and nice talk.

All that had changed when the alarms sounded. Now, as the Captain ordered all able hands to get ready, a certain Corporal had to play his part.

"General quarters: all hands to battle stations. I repeat: all hands, battle stations. This is not a drill."

The doors parted and Corporal Frank Smith stepped onto the bridge right as the Captain finished his broadcast. Every wall was in possession of a screen, displaying the various statuses of the ship. Fusion reactor status, microwave broadcast spectrums, even sections of space.

One of them in particular stood out from the rest. As the Corporal passed by the navigation, weapons, communications and ship operations stations, the screen displaying the massive pronged object that the spooks had activated a few days ago. A fleet of ships, seven in total, were slowly making their way towards Shanxi.

His heart sank all the way to his shoes when he saw the alien geometries of the ship. The Covenant had found Shanxi, and all they had to protect the colony was a small army of platoon of soldiers on the surface and five vessels in space.

Corporal Smith halted and saluted the Captain in charge of the Dragonbreath, Captain Richards. "Sir."

The Captain saluted him back. "At ease, soldier. Is your team ready?"

"They're gearing up as we speak, sir. Private Tara always takes a bit longer."

"They better hurry then." To his Junior Lieutenant at navigation, he called, "Come about to course one five two."

The bridge lights had been darkened to a red hue. The entire ship was rumbling as the Dragonbreath prepared itself for combat.

"Take a look at these ships," the Captain then said, gesturing for the Corporal to come closer. "They look like any Covenant ships to you?"

Smith took a good, long look at the screen. Four ships of the fleet were estimated to be at least five-hundred meters large, rivalling their own Destroyer. Seven of the ships were smaller, about a hundred to hundred-fifty meters. They were sleek, sleeker than the UNSC ships. They had some rough edges to them and some odd protruding segments that looked like weak points if targeted.

Seven smaller ships, four larger ships. Impossible odds. How the hell was the UNSC going to face odds like that with a mere handful of Frigates and one Destroyer?

No. That wasn't his place to worry about. Keep Shanxi safe from any invading alien bastards, that was what he had to worry about.

"No sir," the Corporal finally replied. He was one of the few serving soldiers near this system to have actually seen Covenant ships in person. Even Captain Richards, hero of the Insurrection, had yet to face off against them. That made Smith the local expert. "Too many edges and points. Not smooth enough."

"Hmmm…it'll take FLEETCOM's reinforcements hours to arrive. Smith, take your squad and rendezvous under Lieutenant Volker. Priority mission: protect the civilians-"

One of the officers interrupted him. "Sir! Enemy contacts are beginning to move!"

The Captain was on the screen in no-time. "Show me." The zoomed image of the larger vessel shifted back to show the entire fleet, now slowly forming a tight triangle-like formation and heading towards a new target.

The name of their probable destination appeared on-screen: Shanxi.

"Double-time it soldier!"

The Corporal felt an adrenaline spike coursing through his body. He turned around and sprinted towards the elevator. Behind him, Captain Richards began barking orders at his crew as the Dragonbreath prepared itself for war.

The elevator surged down with such speeds the soldier could feel his stomach dropping to his crotch. When it lurched to a halt, he nearly stumbled out, making his way towards the Pelican launch bay. His squad was there, as he had expected.

They were still gearing up.

"Tara!" Shouted Corporal Smith. "Get your hairy butt inside the Pelican, now!"

The Large Breed Arachne growled in return, mounting her M90 Shotgun to the back of her abdomen. "Ease up chum. Loading takes a lot of time!"

Some people might be hesitant about pissing off a violent, carnivorous soldier with the lower body of a massive tarantula. Most soldiers weren't Frank 'Fluffy Tamer' Smith. He had grown up on Madrigal, after his father had married a Wyvern. The colony was rife with extra-species gang members, some of them even with connections to the notorious Black Fang.

As such, the woman capable of tearing a Warthog apart with her bare hands was just about as intimidating to him as a wet towel which, of course, could kill him as well if he ever got particularly stupid.

"You should have loaded up before!" He shouted at her, jabbing a finger against her chest. Tara had donned her EXO-suit, which offered her some serious physical protection as well as increased mobility. Unfortunately, it didn't cover the underside of her body. "Where would you be if we had left an hour ago, lady? That's right, you'd be screwed! Now take those assault rifles and board the Pelican!"

Blake, their team's residentiary undead Commando, grinned widely at their conversation. "You heard the boss-man! You gotta take care of your guns beforehand!"

"Not everybody has a fetish for barrels, meat!" Countered Tara. "Why don't you take that SMG of yours and stuff it up your-"

"Can we all please get a move on?" Sounded from inside the dropship. Good old Sif, always ready for action and collected before combat. The Echidna wore her own specialized Lamia BDU, flexible enough to allow for a whole mess of crazy maneuvers, tough enough to shrug off small arms fire. In theory.

The other handler, Lance Corporal Hawkins, stood at the entrance of the Pelican, waving the three Liminal soldiers in. He was a whole lot less adept at handling Tara, having opted to specialize in fighting alongside the reptilian species. Nimble and quick on his feet, the Marine was an expert at keeping up with the superhuman speed of his subordinates.

With one Large Breed Arachne, an Echidna, a Zombie and two Marines, the dropship was absolutely filled to capacity. The two larger Liminal species stood packed against each other near the entrance, something that neither of them liked.

"Remember," the Corporal yelled as the Pelican took off, racing towards the surface of Shanxi, "Speed and movement is the key! Tara, Sif, you two will draw the most fire so stay alert! Blake, don't get any funny ideas! If the enemy nails your head, you will die. I am not reattaching your legs again, you hear me?"

The beautiful commando was not impressed. "Don't be such a baby, hon'! That only happened once!"

Corporal Smith employed the power of a raised voice. "Don't give me lip, soldier! That plasma eats through flesh like your mother at a buffet! Keep your head down!"

Blake flashed him a wide grin. "You're so worried! I didn't know you cared!"

Smith reached out and slapped her across the back of her head. "Focus! We'll be dropping in two minutes. Once we reach Lieutenant Volker, you'll have you full of action. Until then, stay put."

Nobody in the team asked the obvious question: what would happen once the battlegroup in orbit lost?

~0~

Five ships. Four large and boxy ones, grey and black, barely visible against the darkness of space. The last one had to be the flagship; about as large as the rest, but completely different in shape. Whereas the other ones looked like floating bricks with bricks attached for engines, this contact ended in a tapered nose.

All of them were the size of Cruisers.

Regardless, the 124th was coming in too fast. At these speed, the aliens would assume that this was an intercept course and they would assume combat positions. If anyone opened fire now, this entire scenario would turn into a bloodbath!

He was not going to witness the start of a war. By the blood of his father, he would not have it! "Get me Captain Tracheus," ordered Solitus. "Now!"

The Communications Officer nodded and soon, Solitus was faced with the holographic display of his comrade-in-arms and mentor. "Tracheus, something is wrong."

"Solitus. Now is not the time for doubt! What bothers you?"

"Tracheus, these aliens, they do not utilize Eezo in their vessels. We cannot properly predict their movements. Our aggressive approach might provoke them!"

"Solitus, I understand your reservations. Worry not; a simple display of force will be enough to stem these primitives."

A single display of-? "No. We do not know what weapons they employ, what infantry they possess! They might take offense, or declare a state of emergency!"

Tracheus sighed. "Do you think I am content with this? General Levitcus is eager for glory, too eager. But there is nothing you and I can do!"

"Nonsense," Solitus shot back. "We cannot punish this race for something they did not know was wrong! We must open communications, regard this is a First Contact scenario!"

"Take up your issues with Fleet Commander Tarankus. I would advise you to simply follow his word."

Frustrated, Solitus replied, "I will. Attacking a new species without provocation is the way of the Krogan, not us." After that last remark, he severed the connection between him and his old friend.

"Alien vessel are still holding position," said one of his officers. "Captain, how can these primitives navigate the stars without Element Zero?"

"I don't know," replied Solitus, hoping he could focus on one issue at a time. "But I intend on finding out. Get me Comm's with Fleet Commander Tarankus, fast!"

Tarankus was a gifted tactician, if somewhat hot-blooded, with a reputation for violence. The perfect match for Levitcus and, if the rumors surrounding those two were true, more of an accomplice than a partner.

But today, he would have to see reason.

After a few, nervous moments, Tarakus appeared on the holo-screen. "Captain Solitus? What is your…situation?"

Solitus soflty inhaled. Proper Turians did not argue with their officers. It was bad form. Hopefully, Tarakus could see through that.

~0~

Onboard Turian Hierarchy Cruiser Palavan's Lance

The bridge of the Palavan's Lance was a veritable hive of activity. Turian officers dove through sensor logs as the 124th Patrol Group made its way towards the colony, where a small group of warships was quickly gathering to intercept them. Fleet Commander Tarakus straightened his back and nodded at one of his communication officers. "We are close enough. That should calm them down. Hail their flagship."

Here he was, the first Turian Commander in centuries to make contact with a new species. A species capable of achieving spaceflight without the use of Element Zero, even. Such crafty creatures would be an unmissable addition to the Hierarchy. A client space was always needed, and these ones appeared very promising.

The Officer nodded and typed a string of commands at his console. "Hail sent. Awaiting your message, sir."

Tarakus raised his head. Let all primitive races be assured of the Turian law, which was absolute. "Greetings. We have come to your world because you activated a dormant Mass Relay, a forbidden act. However, let there be no bloodshed between us, for I am Fleet Commander Tarakus, and I merely wish for your warships to stand down. If you are unwilling to comply, we will be forced to meet your gathered fleet with lethal force."

"Are you sure they will understand that?" asked the Communications Officer.

"If they do, we can sort this mess out without incident. If they don't, they must at least be reasonable and stand down. If not…we have always need for a new client race."

"Yes sir."

The Fleet Commander had the 124th slowly drift towards the alien formation, eagerly awaiting their return-hail. However, as the minutes trickled by without any sort of response, he was starting to feel impatient.

Impatience turned to frustration and he ordered his fleet to accelerate towards the alien fleet.

When the Comm Officer next spoke, said frustration turned to outright anger. "Sir, you have an incoming transmission from the Empire's Wrath, commanded by Captain Solitus."

Solitus…he knew that name. Yes…a good leader, but a very bad soldier. His tendencies to question his command were what kept him from greatness. "Put him through. Let us see what he wants to whine about."

The officer nodded and before soon, Tarakus was faced with the visage of a Turian who was unwilling to fight for his kind. "Captain Solitus," he said, forcing himself to be amiable." What is your… situation?"

"Sir, our fleet's approach might alarm the primitives. Did you hail them? Are they standing down?"

Fleet Commander Tarakus sighed. Questioning the command of a superior officer, was he now? "Captain Solitus, you and your vessel will stay in line for this operation. We cannot allow a species without Element Zero to mess around with a Mass Relay."

"Yes, but they need to be taught this! We cannot simply rush their formation like this, they will assume the worst!"

"Our kinetic barriers will shrug off whatever they can fire," replied Tarakus. "If they open fire merely because we approach them too fast, they are savages that need culling. Do not forget that they now have access to Citadel Space, Captain. We do not want a repeat of the Yahg incident."

"I…spirits, you are right, sir. We cannot have war. Not now. Not ever."

Tarakus was not so certain about that, but now that the troublesome officer finally saw reason, he was not going to vocalize his thoughts. "Good." He then linked the Captain to the global Comm and gave his next order. "All vessels, standard formation. Power up your weapons, all of them. Let us see the aliens tremble in fear. Let them see our might."

However, as the approaching ships powered up every single system with radiant visibility, it soon became obvious that the primitives were definitely seeing their might, as they immediately fanned out into a formation of their own.

"Yes," Tarakus whispered to himself. "Just about to surrender, aren't you?"

He could only guess about the mental processes that the alien captain had to be going through right now.

~0~

Faced with an enemy fleet that was powering up their weapons and coming straight towards them at a collision course, Captain Richard was left with only one option. "Remove all weapon system locks, order missile crews to readiness and warm up the MAC guns.

"Yes sir!" Said Lieutenant Karnov. She was a Kobold, a pseudohuman crewmember with physical characteristics of a canine. Intensely loyal to the crew and armed with reflexes faster than Richards' own, she took about a second to fulfill the order.

The Covenant being here meant only one thing. He had to keep in mind the possible destruction of the Dragonbreath. "Lieutenant Davis, initiate the Cole Protocol. Purge our navigation databases, then generate an appropriate randomized exit vector away from Shanxi."

"Aye skipper!" Yelled the Small Arachne Breed. Speaking of reflexes, one did not get much faster than a Small Breed like her. She was the only member who never needed coffee -mostly because she reacted very badly to it- and her reaction speed was so blisteringly fast that she could dodge bullets.

If only she wasn't so damn cheerful in the face of a Covenant fleet glassing Shanxi...nonetheless, everybody had their own coping mechanism.

"The fleet is ready, sir," announced Lieutenant Gordon. "The Aegis Fate and the Chioglossa are taking up positions on the grid. Passion Play and Everdead have released all their dropships to Shanxi's surface as well. Reinforcements are two hours away."

Five ships to beat eleven…maybe if the odds were reversed, they'd win. These ships looked different though. Maybe the Covenant was trading quality for quantity this time.

But two hours was completely useless. This battle wouldn't take two minutes. "Good."

The Dragonbreath had received a garbled transmission from one of the enemy vessels. Alien, of course. Unclear nonsense with a rather condescending tone to it. Though, knowing the aggressive approach of these aliens, it might have been rage as well.

The Captain sent an encrypted package of firing solution and countdown times to the rest of the battlegroup. From this distance, the alien ships looked like toys to him. That did not nothing to lessen his fear, however.

When the deaths of fifteen million civilians were the cost of failure, how could he not be afraid? With these odds, he was terrified. But he could not allow that fear to cloud his judgement.

"Lieutenant Davis, Show me the fleet's position and the relative location of the enemy."

"Yes sir!" Replied the small Arachne. Her hands were a blur across the controls. A heartbeat later, a system map snapped into place at the main screen. A few tactical markers appeared, marking the position of the Frigates.

And he was in charge of commanding this battlegroup.

The contacts rapidly crossed the many hundreds of thousands of kilometers, coming close enough to be targeted. Their lateral lines were charging, energy signatures were clear, but there was no plasma charging. Odd. What were they going to hit them with this time?

"Sir, MAC weapon systems are hot!" declared Lieutenant Karnov. "Removing safeties now."

The Captain waited, giving his battlegroup a few moments to transfer their firing control to their computers and link the vectors to their own navigation. Then, he linked all ships to his global command pushed the order to fire.

The Dragonbreath recoiled and spat twin bolts of thunder towards the enemy. On the tactical overlay the Frigates, a mere thousand kilometers apart, opened fire as well.

~0~

"Spirits! They're engaging! Enemy fire incoming!"

Fleet Commander Tarakus responded with years of ingrained experience and instincts. "Evasive maneuvers! Don't let them hit us!"

The officers on station immediately processed his orders and the Palavan's Lance immediately veered off course, followed by the rest of the fleet. The Frigates easily managed to dodge the incoming salvo, but two Cruisers were unable to speed away fast enough.

The Primarch's Choice and the Phalanx were struck with all the fury of a newborn star. On his screens, the Fleet Commander was helpless to watch the two mighty Cruisers got crushed into oblivion, their kinetic barriers flaring for mere micro-seconds before fading away.

Tarakus cursed under his breath. Four-hundred good Turian soldiers per ship, dead in a flash. What had those primitives fired at them, spirits be cursed! Mass Accelerator rounds? Directed energy? Nuclear fire? They had been close, too close, but to think that this race was capable of employing such weapons with Element Zero was…it was unthinkable!

The Fleet Commander directed five of the Frigates towards the surface of the world and ordered them to send in all troops. Turian Doctrine was clear on this matter; it dictated that this new species be assessed for integration into Turian society. If they were found to be capable, they would be subjugated and processed into the Citadel-aligned races for the benefit of all.

And the advantage of a species like this…capable of swatting Cruisers out of space without the use of Mass Effect fields? By no means an easy feat.

And this species was capable. Spirits, they were capable. But the deaths of four-hundred capable Turian personnel demanded retribution!

With the remaining two Cruisers and six Frigates, Fleet Commander Tarakus met his enemy head-on. "All vessels, engage the enemy! Release single-ship fighters and boarding parties. I want one of these vessels intact!"

Then, as his Fleet opened fire on the enemy fleet, the Fleet Commander eyed the one different vessel in the alien battlegroup. The one with the tapered nose. His ego demanded it be captured and studied. His instinct told him to destroy it.

The souls of four-hundred murdered people weighed down on his ego, and his decision was made easily. "Aim all Mass Accelerators at the enemy flagship. Reduce it to ashes!"

~0~

1655 Hours, November 27th, 2526 (UNSC Military Calendar)/

Shanxi, grid seven by eighteen

The Pelican dropship came to a sudden halt. The pilot yelled at them that they were in the clear and that was all that Lance Corporal Hawkins needed. He opened the rear hatch and bathed the blood tray in light.

"Move out!" Shouted Corporal Smith. "Get going!"

Hawkins leapt out of the hovering dropship and quickly moved aside as the three extra-species Privates came barging out of the main compartment. The Arachne, the Lamia and the Zombie quickly rushed out and, displaying at least some sense of tactical knowledge, quickly fanned out and scanned the surroundings for hostiles.

"So," called Blake. "Where's the el-tee at?"

The undead soldier was a peculiar case. Technically alive, she didn't have a pulse, nor any form of physical response to damage or pain. She felt things and she had brain activity, but her body didn't heal on its own, requiring special medical treatments to keep her in fighting shape. Most of her organs were flash-cloned replicas of the original ones and because of the extreme burn wounds on her body after her last mission, a large section of her skin had required replacement too.

Still, she could take and dish out an impressive amount of punishment. Innies and Templars were mostly ineffective against Zombie infantry; the girls could simply allow the armor-piercing rounds to blow through their bodies and the only thing they had to worry about was maybe putting on a bit of bullet-induced weight.

Not today. Covenant weaponry had eliminated that advantage.

"A few klicks ahead, in Dorden's city center. Move out."

Lance Corporal Hawkins took up his position next to Sif, securing the squad's left flank. Smith took up the right flank, allowing Blake and Tara to take point.

Between a girl with limitless endurance and a girl with eight powerful legs, said point was a very fast one. Jake Hawkins was by no means a slouch; he had been serving in the UNSC for four years now, more often than not serving as a scout or recon unit. But the stamina of extra-species was something a normal human could not compete against.

So he kept his panting to himself and did his best to keep up with the Echidna.

Sif had proven to be the most effective in a scouting position as well. Her reflexes and physique allowed her unparalleled flexibility and movability on the battlefield, and her ability to track targets with their scent and heat signature was nothing short of amazing.

The reason that the Pelican hadn't simply dropped them off right on top of the Lieutenant was simple. The Covenant might have already invaded Shanxi. Concentrating infantry in the middle of a city center was enough reason for the aliens to reduce the city center to rubble. Quick and dirty drop-offs were the best solution, an ideal mixture of subterfuge and efficiency.

At least, that was what the Lance Corporal had been told. He didn't question orders. He merely obeyed them.

The journey to the city center was a short and intense one. Along the way, Corporal Smith kept track of the situation on Shanxi. The UNSC battlegroup had engaged the Covenant strike force and managed to eliminate two vessels before the Covenant returned fire. As expected, several smaller vessels had broken off and were now bearing down on the major population centers, dropping off swarms of dropships, vehicles and other nasty military hardware.

In return, every single capable hand within Dorden was mobilizing. The Templar Order's influence within the Outer Colonies was negligible, which meant that a lot of humans married extra-species individuals. Such bonds led to weird things, like a higher hospitalization rate and a large section of the population being capable of fighting. While they were most likely civvies with impressive track records instead of an actual militia, if they could hold their own in a fight, nobody was willing to complain.

It had become humanity's thing to oppose their enemies on every single square inch of land, sea and air. Such ground resistances were always impressive, but short-lived, ultimately leading to more casualties than when they had simply evacuated.

It was one thing to see a group of Centaurs charging along with APC's and other armored vehicles to storm a Covenant flank. It was another thing to see said charge obliterated by airstrikes.

It would be the same here. Monster girls would rip apart the Covenant forces and in return, get shredded by the easily-gained Covenant air superiority and artillery strikes.

As they made their way into the city center, the Lance Corporal saw more and more groups gather around tactical positions. Choke-points, sturdy buildings and other kill-zones. Members of every single race. Monoeye snipers, Dragonewts and Dragon shock infantry, Centaurs helping with heavy lifting. He even saw a handful of Orcs handing out weapons.

"Look at that," Corporal Smith told him as their squad made its way through friendly territory. "And the Templars want to destroy this."

"The Templars have enough assets to protect this city on their own," replied Hawkins. "And they got a bigger fleet, too."

"Don't give me that. The price of their assistance is much too high. They'd have Sif executed, or worse."

"If they don't, the Covenant will."

"Bullshit!"

"She's seven meters long, Frank. All it takes is one bolt of plasma, one of those purple tracking things and she's a goner. It's been two years now, and how many have died?"

"How many more will die if the Covenant gets their way? This isn't the Insurrection, Jake. These things want us dead, and they want all of us dead. The Templars, the Black Fang, everybody. Now you take that Battle Rifle of yours and you put it to good use!"

Hawkins had to admit that his will and determination had remained unbroken. His motivation, however, was slowly waning. Two years of nonstop fighting would do that to you. "Got it. Keep those civvies out of the building though. Covenant'll blow them all to pieces when they gain air dominance."

"If, Hawkins. If."

"Yes sir."

~0~

The Dragonbreath trembled and groaned as the enemy unloaded another salvo of rounds into their hull. These new Covenant ships were a lot less sturdy, but there were so damn many of them, and they were so damned trigger-happy. Instead of launching several salvos of highly-destructive plasma, they now launched several dozen salvos of small, high-speed projectiles that hit hard.

This fight wasn't going well. The group of five smaller vessels had ganged up on the Everdead, swarmed her with their weapons. Round after round impacted on the light Frigate and its commander couldn't fight them off.

Eventually, the alien ships obliterated the Frigate, but one last salvo of Archer missiles had taken two of the ships with her.

Whatever these ships fired, it wasn't as destructive as plasma. The Dragonbreath's nearly two meters of Titanium-A battleplate armor that covered her from stern to stern couldn't take more than a few direct plasma torpedo impacts, but the Destroyer had now taken thrice as much rounds and she was still kicking.

Captain Richards didn't complain. What he did do however, was put his twenty-six oversized Archer missile pods to good use. "Seal pressure doors on the lower decks. Lieutenant Karnov, fire Archer missile pods A through C at designated Bogey-1. Fire Archer missile pods D through G at designated Bogey-2."

"Yes sir!" Exclaimed the Kobold. The destruction of the Everdead had gripped her in a tranquil fury and she typed in his orders even faster than normal. "Missiles away!"

Ninety missiles closely followed by another hundred-twenty missiles streaked towards the targeted enemy vessels, tiny trails of exhaust stretching from the Dragonsbreath to the tatgets. They easily tracked the smaller vessels despite their alarming maneuverability and rapidly approached them.

Blurs of light erupted form the sides of the ships, nailing at least a dozen missiles each.

The majority of the missiles impacted. Fire covered the skins of the ships as their shields held, then dissipated under the extreme explosive force of the Archer missiles. The remaining missiles slammed into the wounded Covenant ships, carving deep and gaping holes before the internal structure buckled and the ships exploded in twin flashes of white.

Single ships -the human's Longsword fighters and odd, angular fighters of the Covenant- dove, fired and impacted into warships. On his screen, he watched the Passion Play go up in a ball of nuclear fire as long-distance shells finally got through to its internal components.

Richards gritted his teeth. "Lieutenant Davis-"

"Sir, incoming transmission! It's…video feed, sir!" Cried the communications officer. "Putting it on-screen now!"

Captain Richards glanced at the screen that blurred for a few moments, then showed the visage of what was definitely a new alien in the Covenant rank and file. It had a face two eyes and a set of mandibles around their mouth. Its face, adorned with war paint, had an intelligence to them that was befitting of the brutal efficiency he was seeing here.

The humanoid nodded, a surprisingly-human gesture. It then raised a weapon -a non-Covenant weapon, oddly enough.

Then, it dropped the weapon on the ground, looking directly at the screen as it did so.

"It just repeats, sir. What do you think it means?"

Richards stared at the screen, asking himself just that. Dropping one's weapon was usually a sign of surrender. It seemed oddly out of place for this battle. Unless he was missing something.,

He frowned and scanned the battle, searching for anything that was fittingly out of place like the alien gesture.

There, at the fringe of the battle. Two of the large aliens vessels that had been shelling the Dragonbreath from a long distance. One of them moved in front of its sister-ship, cutting off its lines of sight and risking a serious friendly fire accident. What were they doing? It was the same vessel that had hailed him, he was sure of it.

"Sir," Said Lieutenant Davis. "Ehm, enemy vessels are pulling out. Request permission to fire, over?"

"Negative," said the Captain. "No, wait."

Something was off. The alien vessels stopped firing and the smaller vessels -those that had survived at least- all moved away.

No Covenant ship had ever just stopped fighting. They either stayed until every last defender had been butchered, or they fought to the last ship. This wasn't their Doctrine.

No plasma. Different ships, not purple, not nearly as strong as normal ships. Even the smallest Covenant ships could withstand at least one MAC. These ones had buckled after one shot. Hell, he had personally taken out two of their smaller vessels with just Archer missiles. Even that alien commander, with its odd gesture, didn't look like a Covenant soldier.

Perhaps this wasn't the Covenant at all? The aliens had appeared around the strange object at the fringe of the system. Why there? And why not board or destroy it?

"Priority channel," ordered the Captain. "Audio only."

"Sir."

On the priority channel, Captain Richards was free to order the remaining ships in his fleet to target specific ships, rendezvous at a different position or outright retreat. This time however, he had something else in mind. "Lead to all ships, hold your positions. Fire only when fired upon. Repeat, hold your fire until the enemy returns fire on us."

"Sir?" Said Lieutenant Karnov. "We have them on the run! We should press the attack!"

"No Karnov. The Covenant doesn't just break off. You saw their transmission too. I think they want a cease-fire. If they want to buy us time for our reinforcements, they are welcome to."

"I…ehm…yes sir!"

Despite the situation, Richards smiled. Kobolds. They could always be depended on.

~0~

1724 Hours, November 27th, 2526 (UNSC Military Calendar)/

Shanxi, grid seven by eighteen

Slime girls. They could always be depended on.

Through his binoculars, Corporal Smith watched with satisfaction as the handful of extra-species soldiers he had sent to outflank the enemy, made their move. The Slime dropped down from the ceiling and landed atop the face of the first alien, distracting the rest of the group. Even from this distance, he could make out the big, glowing eyes of the Slime girl. Such a cute little thing. He wondered if these aliens thought the same thing about her.

~0~

Legionnaire Tractus screamed at the top of his lungs as some sort of blue parasite dropped down from the ruined ceiling above, engulfing the head of Lucso with its whole body.

Lusco stumbled under the weight of the blob-like terror, which immediately sprouted tentacles with blue points at their end to swat at the other turian soldiers.

"Lusco, hold on!" Shouted Tractus. He rushed at his friend and attempted to grab a hold of the parasite to pull it off, but it was no use! His talons merely swept through the slimy creature like it was made out of water!

"Spirits, he's choking to death!" Yelled Paultor.

He was right; poor Lusco was turning a dark shape of blue, clawing at air that wasn't there. Slowly, he was sinking to his knees.

A horrible, demonic face had appeared within the gelatinous parasite; glowing, green orbs that appeared more like gemstones than eyes.

Succumbing to their fears, Tractus and Paultor both opened fire, taking great care to avoid hitting the head of their trapped comrade. Mass Accelerator rounds tore through the viscous blob without any resistance at all and slammed into the wall behind it.

The creature merely reformed around Lusco's head, not even inconvenienced by the assault rifle fire.

Tractus felt desperation seize him. "Spirits, it won't die! It doesn't die!"

~0~

"You think ET knows they can just hose the girl with water or catch her in a plastic bag?" Asked Corporal Smith.

"No idea. They didn't seem to like the girl a lot. Think they'll see Sif coming?"

Smith shrugged. "She's your girl."

"She's not my girl."

"Maybe you should tell her that. You're the only she seems to smile around."

"Well…considering what she's about to do, that doesn't have to be true."

~0~

Legionnaire Paultor felt something long and heavy slam into his spine, completely bypassing his kinetic barriers and sending him crashing through a wall. Bricks and pieces of wood shattered as the Turian soldier was smashed through them.

Tractus had about half a second to respond and to a being without augmented or superhuman reflexes, such a small window of time was impossible to utilize. A long, brown appendage appeared out of nowhere and wrapped itself around his ankles, waist and shoulders. Thick, heavily-muscled and covered with scales. A monster, an animal unleashed upon them by these creatures.

The Legionnaire was unable to face his opponent and as the heavy coils around his lithe frame tightened, slowly breaking his bones and crushing his organs, the last thing he felt was a pair of clawed hands wrapping around his jaw and neck.

Something snapped and everything went dark.

Paultor sluggishly rose to his feet, clutching his wounded chest. "Tractus!" He yelled. "Ambush, get out!"

He expected his Turian partner to emerge from the bombed-out husk of a building. What he got instead was a devilish being from his darkest nightmares, with the upper body of an Asari-like being and the lower body of a smooth Thresher Maw.

And that was his last sight before the monster lunged for him and sank its long fangs into his throat.

~0~

"On second thought, you were right," Said Corporal Smith. "Sif does smile when she's not around you. Only when she's killing things."

"Echidnas like violence. I'm just here to direct that towards her foes."

"I hear that."

~0~

Onboard Turian Hierarchy shuttle 057

Captain Tracheus was a saint. A spirits-blessed saint! Now they had a chance, a true, honest chance to prevent this from escalating into war!

From his shuttle, Captain Solitus was still capable of following the situation. Fleet Commander Tarankus had lost multiple ships. The Cruisers Primarch's Choice and the Phalanx, the Frigates Victus, Implacable, Varacan and the Verrikan, even multiple dropships and squads on the surface. In return, they had managed to destroy two of the five alien vessels and shell one of their cities on the surface of the colony. It wasn't worth it. Not worth it at all.

But now that he had a chance to end this madness, he would take it.

The shuttle took him down right outside of the range of the colony's AA cannons. Most of them had been destroyed in the opening bombing, but he wasn't going to risk dying yet. His task was much too important for him to die now.

In his personal guard he had placed the most capable veterans of his ship, as well as two cabals. This alien race needed to realize that this massacre wasn't all the Turian Hierarchy was about. They stood for unity, discipline and morals. They would uphold the peace and sanity within the universe, not destroy it.

"Set us down near the edge of the city," said the Captain. "Their commanding officer has to be found there. You will accompany me, but you will not open fire until I give you the order. Am I understood?"

As one, his squad saluted.

Good. He was going to need that discipline for his plan.

This close to the army that the Frigates had dropped off, Solitus received every single transmission that the Turian soldiers sent. The uncertain ones, the panicked ones. The dying ones.

"Invictus to Command, the enemy soldiers have monsters! Spirit-cursed monsters! They're tearing us apart!"

"We need reinforcements. Wait, what was that? Damnit, Legionnaire Valtor is stuck in some sort of goo. What is that, a web?"

"Did you see that? I shot off its goddam legs it's still shooting us!

"Kinetic barriers don´t stop their blows. Watch that flank!"

"These hostiles are flying! Heads up, hostiles are flying!"

Solitus knew not what sort of biological terrors these primitives employed and neither did he want to know. This slaughter would end here.

~0~

The problem with aliens coming from outer space was that damned outer space. Corporal Frank Smith could have sworn that Dorden had been very secure with the multiple platoon's worth of reinforcements, yet an alien close air-support assault had reduced most of its large buildings to rubble, much like Lance Corporal Hawkins had predicted.

Then, the Covenant had started pushing into the city by force. Armored vehicles, large swaths of infantry and more air support. The Marines were holding, but barely. Hopefully they would be get reinforcements within the hour.

Within the minute would be welcome too.

"I'm not going to say it," said Tara, "But I will. I fucking told you so!"

"Tara, not now."

"Crushing their infantry is fine, but no! Mister Smith wants the Arachne to attack their tank as well!"

"Tara, please!"

"And now the rest of their infantry is pissed off! Whadda you know?"

"Less whining and more shooting!" Yelled Blake. The Zombie popped up from her cover and fired off a burst of her two SMG's before the enemy fire forced her back down again. "Goddamnit, they're suppressing us!"

"Gee," said Sif, rolling with her eyes. "You think?"

Lance Corporal peered over the stone wall and fired off a burst with his Battle Rifle, downing one of the aliens. "Scratch one."

Frank recalled every single option and tactical approach he had been taught during training. They were caught trying to outflank and enemy armored column. Tara and Sif had managed to destroy two of their ground vehicles before a large group of infantry had appeared from the ruins of a skyscraper, pinning them down with a hail of fire.

With the safeties of his girls on the line, there was only one thing he could do. Play the Rabbitgirl, haul ass, push his head between his legs and kiss said ass goodbye.

Corporal Smith sighed and glanced up at the sky. Of all his regrets, he regetted the fact that he had never called his father back the most. Well, right after the fact that he would die a virgin. That one sucked even worse. "Ah…if this is over, I'm going to kiss you, Tara."

The Large Breed Arachne stopped firing her duel assault rifles and turned to look at him, "The fuck you say?"

"As soon as they target me, run like hell."

"What are you-"

Corporal Smith inhaled and burst from his cover, sprinting away from the suppressed area and towards the upturned APC that Tara had messed up, roughly ten meters away.

Just like he predicted, the Covenant soldiers immediately tracked him with their weapons, pouring hundreds of rounds into his general direction.

The Corporal ducked and weaved, cursed and yelled. Sand and rocks around his feet exploded as enemy fire traced him and when he was about to slide into cover, he caught a burst of fire in his side. The rounds knocked the breath out of his body. Pain slashed through him like a red-hot razor and he quickly dove behind the upturned APC.

"I'm hit!" He yelled. "I'm hit!"

As the bullets pinged off of the alien vehicle, Smith checked his BDU. The Arachne silk that had been woven through the standard Marine armor had saved his life; five times stronger than steel and twice as elastic as nylon, his BDU had not been breached yet. He would live. For now.

Smith took a few breaths to calm himself and then peered out from the upturned APC. The enemy fireteam was still hunched down behind their cover, firing potshots at the test of his squad. However, Sif and Hawkins were gone now, leaving only Tara and Blake behind.

"Goddam titty-ticks. I thought Arachne were meant to be fast…"

But he knew his duty. He would never forgive himself if anyone in his squad would die. For their sake, he would have to keep up this suicidal endeavor.

Corporal Smith darted away from behind the APC again to lure the enemy suppressive fire towards him. He was successful in that regard. Too successful.

The Covenant soldiers had anticipated him running around like a Poultry Harpy and they acted accordingly.

Bullets impacted on his BDU again and this time, the Arachne silk was unable to keep him protected. Lances of pain shot through his right leg and left arm, as well as his chest. He didn't know if it was the sheer adrenaline of the fight or his own stubbornness, but he somehow managed to make it to the ruined remains of what had once been a large house. He crept down low behind one of the walls and groaned, clutching his bleeding limbs.

It was then that he realized why the enemy fireteam had been so eager to suppress them, and why the reinforcements in this area had been unable to get to them. When the Covenant came to assault Drosden, they did so with completely different tactics and approaches. No Grunts, no Jackels. No Banshees or Seraphs or other vehicles.

An enemy fireteam breached the bombed-out building, quickly fanning out behind Smith's position,.

The Corporal, bleeding and exhausted, merely sighed in annoyance and pulled out his sidearm. He slowly took aim at the first alien, but the bastard did something that he hadn't expected. The Covenant bastard raised a fist in the air, prompting the other soldiers in its team to hold their fire.

Corporal Smith coughed. His arm wavered and he lowered his gun, unable to keep it raised.

The alien glanced at him with an expression that could only be described as confusion. Then, it transferred its rifle to its left hand and raised it in the air, as if surrendering.

Its squad still didn't open fire. Instead, two of the aliens approached Smith and carefully, almost gently, removed his sidearm from his weak grip.

No Jackels. No Grunts. No hostile intent. Was this the Covenant? Truly?

Frank groaned and managed to contact his squad. "Corporal S-Smith…alien contacts...n-not hostile. Approach m-my location with care…don't open fire…until e-enemy does."

The individual in command of this alien squad knelt down in front of Smith, lingering at his wounds. He said something that the Corporal couldn't understand, then placed its right hand against his head.

Still no hostile contact.

~0~

"There need not be war between us," repeated Captain Solitus. The wounded soldier glared at him with an expression that lingered between hatred and agony.

Of course it would not understand. Alien languages were such a bother. No matter; they would get a translation soon enough.

"Spread the word to the rest of the army. Tell them to break off the attack and pull back. Captain Tracheus managed to broker a ceasefire. Terrible mistakes were made today, but it is not too late to make amends."

~0~

UNSC CODEX ENTRY: WARFARE: WEAPONRY: MONO-MOLECULAR BLADES

"The problem with the combat application of the so-called "mono-molecular blades" is that that the sliced object would immediately reform due to the Van der Waals forces. As such, a blade sharpened to a single atom would not do any significant damage. Such a blade would also easily shatter into a million pieces. It should be worth noting that a cut of this magnitude would still cause defects and abnormalities within the reintegrated frames.

However, scientific breakthroughs have still found a way for extra-species combatants and Spartan super-soldiers to employ blades with immense cutting power. The technique involves a hard metal blade coated in a microscopic layer of artificial diamond. This diamond layer is then exposed to artificially-created plasma, which sharpens it to a level matching or even exceeding that of an obsidian knife. The metal blade means that there are not brittleness concerns to worry about, and the strength of the diamond coating means that the blades will stay sharp for one thousand times longer than a normal metal blade."