Thank you very much for the tsunami of reviews, I actually was pessimistic about it being that popular.
Here is Chapter 2, I wanted to make one huge chapter but with school I have to separate it into parts.
Please review!
Long Range Base Five
"Warning! Enemy boarding craft inbound! Contact in two minutes. Defenses engaging...Warning! Enemy boarding craft inbound.." the computer's synthesized voice announced through the station wide intercom as the stations motley supply of Archer Missiles and CIWS began to attempt to intercept the fast approaching Republic Boarding craft, managing to only take down a couple as Fredrik took up his position along with his squad and two others in the large corridors leading towards one of the empty primary hangar bays, the UNSC doctrine for fending off boarding attacks on stations calling for the Marines to engage boarders in few large open spaces that could be exposed to vacuum like the hanger.
In case he and every other marine were suddenly exposed to the cruel environment of vacuum they carried a quickly attachable vacuum rated re breather which would cover the Marine's face and allow him to survive for up to twenty minutes in vacuum.
Taking cover behind a barricade he and the other 28 Marines present anxiously waited as some of the men said prayers, others wishing their fellow Marines the best of luck, or those like himself dealing with battle anxiety with silence.
His heart was racing as the station section violently shook before the intercom announced, "Enemy forces detected in Block D3 hangar bay"
"Here we go." his Sergeant called out as he quickly murmured a quick prayer to Allah before allowing for two seconds the images of his friends, family and girlfriend in his thoughts before clearing his mind and setting his weapon's sights, both holographic red dot sight and his HUD's targeting reticule, on the large door the size of an old Scorpion tank's length.
He clicked the MA6D to three round burst.
The seconds seemed to last for hours as he and the others waited, the squad Machine gunner shuffling his position to get a better aim for his SAW.
"Let them get through the door before we open up." the 2nd Lieutenant in command of the squads ordered using the built in head set of his helmet.
Then his motion tracker showed dozens of red dots just around the corner, and a second later he finally got to get a look at the enemy.
The first clone troopers, all in their white plastic armor and helmets which had a blue stripe on the shoulders and helmets, stepped through the door with their weapons raised, all of them the typical Republic Blaster Carbine save for the group leader who had one of the absurdly long heavy blasters.
"501st Legion, looks like the Republic meant business" Rance remarked as the clones hugged both sides of the walls and advanced cautiously, coming closer and closer to them as more of the slave soldiers followed, their weapons searching for targets.
By some miracle they didnt see them, they were only at most 40 feet away, but by then the Lieutenant roared, "Open fire!"
Fredrik was actually the first to fire.
He squeezed the trigger once and immediately the weapon's electric charge sent three 7.62 mm tungsten armor piercing rounds from its three barrels into the lead trooper at hypersonic speeds.
The first round was most likely absorbed by the armor, but after that the second round which hit a millisecond later punched right through the trooper's chest.
The clone spun to the ground as his chest was splayed open, sending a bloody mess to paint the wall behind him.
The rest of the Marines immediately followed suite, hundreds of hypersonic projectiles cutting down the lead troopers in a matter of seconds, only a couple blaster bolts were fired in return.
The Clones behind that soon recovered as the hell of battle overcame the world.
As Rance cut down another Clone with his Gauss Rifle, sending one 8mm round clear through its chest, Fredrik switched to full auto as the Clones who leapt to cover began to return fire, bolts either hitting cover or striking the shields of the Marines as the SAWs quickly forced the offenders back into cover with an earsplitting roar and a stream of lead, the Troopers having to hit their targets multiple times to bring the personal shields down.
As the Clones bodies began to litter the corridor the first Marine went down in a scream from a concentrated burst of blue blaster fire from a trooper, who was immediately cut down as Fredrik put six rounds through him.
Blaster bolts began to become more accurate as the Republic soldiers began to pour in, but still the Marines held, but the battle was soon getting bloody.
After quickly reloading Fredrik spun out of cover to gun down a trooper who was pinning down his Sergeant when a trio of blaster bolts slammed into him and spun him around, his shields collapsing as another hit him square in the chest with the force of a linebacker , putting him on his ass but thankfully out of the line of fire, his armor taking the hit, a burn mark evident from the hit.
Rance looked to him and all but yelled, "You alright?"
As his adrenaline began to wear off Fredrik rolled to his feet and began to fire again.
Thank god this armor can take a couple of hits.
He waited in cover as his shields recharged, the Squad SAW gunner splaying two more Troopers before a flurry of bolts hit him, his shields giving out and his armor pierced.
The man staggered and fell, his gun still firing in is death grip, thankfully aimed at the enemy until it ran out of ammo.
His barricade was soon beginning to give in to the fire as the walls around him and the marines were being turned to ozone and powder.
As two more Marines fell the Lieutenant all but screamed.
"Cover Fire! Tactical retreat! Fall back to next location!"
"Shit! We can't fall back to a designated position only about two more times!" Rance cursed as he hugged the wall as he leaned out, firing the semi auto BRM-99 Gauss Rifle as fast he could, managing to take out a couple of Clones who were trying to set up a heavy weapon, called an E-Web if he remembered correctly.
"Stacked withdraw! Give us some damn covering fire!" Sergeant Rawlings bellowed as he and everyone else acknowledged, his MA6 spraying the hall joined by Frank's SAW, the deafening roar of fire causing his ears to ring.
The remaining Marines withdrew one at a time, falling back to cover further down the hallway as the Marines next in "line" repeated the action, everyone covering each other.
However two more Marines were cut down as they withdrew, the fire was too intense and there were too damn many enemy troopers.
"Pump some 40's down range!" Rawling roared as he switched mags on his Gauss Rifle.
Fredrik acknowledged by turning around mid sprint down the hallway and using his neural uplink fired the 40mm underslung grenade launcher, sending a 40mm airburst shell into the largest grouping of Clones 30 meters away.
The grenade exploded right amongst the clones, acting as an Flak shell and sending dozens of pieces of cruel flying shrapnel into a dozen clones, the closest having limbs torn off, others having their armor punctured , and a couple of lucky clones only being knocked on their ass as their plastoid whitewashed armor stopped the shrapnel.
One however had actually been hit by the grenade itself as it exploded, turning the Clone soldier into a bloody smear of meat and intestines.
That seemed to give the Republic Soldiers pause as it gave the remaining 18 Marines the time to fall back into the next firing position, an observation area that was the size of a medium sized apartment building with three levels and a large window.
As he threw himself into a position behind a raised service station he stole a glance at the space outside, the planet Cienna serving as a backdrop as dozens of small white explosions occurred in the distance, thousands of miles away.
"Here they come!" one of the Marines cried as Clone troopers, these this time not positioning themselves out in the open, began to attack with a hail of blue blaster fire.
Again the Marines opened up, and again his shoulder rocked as his weapon spat hypersonic tungsten at the white washed enemy, taking another of them down and spinning another around with a glancing blow that its armor deflected.
Time seemed to slow as the heat of fire, screams of agony and the overall hell of battle again took over the world.
Hypersonic Projectiles and the blue plasma of Blaster fire destroyed men and women alike, Republic troopers being eviscerated in bloody messes while Marines fell from multiple laser fire leaving slagged body armor and burnt holes in flesh.
Again the Marines held steadfast as the Clones were forced to make bloody advances to cover or flanking positions that usually left half a dozen or sometimes more dead for every one Marine lost.
However the Republic had far more men to throw at the Terrans than they could kill, and Clone Troopers were not bad soldiers themselves either, in the end turning the battle to a bloody stalemate that threatened to leave the Marines either overrun, out of ammo (the only major flaw with projectile weapons) or annihilated.
After three minutes of nasty fighting which was threatening to turn to hand to hand combat Sergeant Rawlings, now in command as he was the highest rank left, the lieutenant having had a blaster bolt put clean through his face and shields; all but screamed.
"Retreat!"
In the close battle that they were in now, Rance having switched to his shotgun as Fredrik simply swung his MA6 in a wide arc on full auto before being forced back into cover, the Marines only had one option.
"Flashbang!" Frank screamed as he undid the grenade from his belt, stood up firing from the hip as his shields were brought down, taking a Clone commander down, and side armed the grenade before another two bolts caught him, one in his thigh armor and one in the chest plate, sending him down to the deck in a grunt of pain with his armor sizzling, his vitals plummeting.
All remaining eight Marines already had their visors polarized but they all ducked down into the shambles that were now their cover and exhaled as the protective ear plugs in their helmets expanded.
The huge thump and blinding white light still could be seen and felt from behind Fredrik's cover, but the effects were immediate.
The Clone troopers who had been advancing to finish the Marines off or were close to the blast all had their hands to their helmets, covering their eyes or where their ears would be.
Others threw off their helmets and tried to blindly and dazely keep fighting, but they could hardly stand up as it was.
Without hesitation Fredrik ran to where Frank lay, the man groaning in pain as he tried to sit up to bring his SAW to bare.
The thicker chest plate had stopped the second blaster bolt cold, but the first had burnt right through the thinner thigh armor and had shattered his leg.
In one swift movement he scooped the wounded man up as the other members of the squad, namely Rawlings, Rance and Ally cut down the dazed Republic Troopers and fell back to a bulkhead, giving him fire as he hefted the 200 pound Marine and 120 pounds of Armor and nano suit to safety, a feat done no thanks to the latter.
Once he was through the blue blaster bolts began to sail by as Rawlings all but punched the door control, sealing the door and then shooting the controls, blocking their enemies.
Frank groaned again as Rawlings turned to the remaining Marines, "We will fall back to the quarters, stock up on ammo and re group with Marines from Charlie Platoon. We are being overwhelmed by the pure numbers of Republic troopers but for every one of us they kill we take out nearly seven at times, and usually more. We will take them in CQB once we restock, this is going to be a long day, and we only have so much station to fall back to."
FS-837 Falken Space Superiority Starfighter
Flight Leader for UNSC Warhound
Call Sign "Slayer 1"
"I've got tone! AGM Missiles locked on to two targets!" Slayer 1's wingmate called out as his viewscreens and HUDS gave a shrill tone of lock on as two of the thousands of Republic fighters on his screen had the white box that designated them turn Red.
The process was made all the more faster as his neural uplink was literally connected to the fighter, allowing him to perform tasks with amazing speeds, though all pilots still manually piloted the fighters and launched the weapons by pulling the trigger or pressing the button, it was actually easier that way.
"Hold fire until my command." he ordered as the large wingmounted missiles indicated that their targets were two ARC-170's, the Republic's premier fighters and the biggest threat to the UNSC fighters.
Normally the Falkens would have all its ordinance carried internally in its weapon's bays, but it did have built in hardpoints for extra weapons for heavy combat, which were currently loaded down with six more AGM long range fighter missiles and two MLML Micro Missile launchers with 20 short ranged missiles in each pod to complement the already impressive armament of 20 Anti fighter missiles and the twin 50 mm Vulcan cannons.
"Two missiles a fighter, we have around 2,000 Falkens so 4,000 missiles heading towards them, and about 40 percent of the Republic fighters will be able to evade, especially the Eta-2's and 170's, so maybe two thousand kills, not bad but that leaves around 5,000 more in this wave alone." he grimly thought to himself.
Even though the UNSC fighters were supposedly better than all of the Republic fighters, at least that's what ONI had assured them, they were outnumbered ten to one, it was going to be bloody.
"Prioritize the ARC-170's !If you have a lock on a Eta-2 switch to the V-Wings. Lets thin out the herd!" he ordered as the distance closed to 1,000 kilometers and dropping at a rate of 100 kilometers every 30 seconds as the Falkens were at their maximum velocity.
"Rodger!" the Falkens, all arranged in v formations by squadrons, answered.
His mind quickly thought of his family back home before he roared into his helmet's radio, "Fox 2!"
He pressed the button on his joystick as two of his wing mounted missiles screamed away at breathtaking speed.
It was immediately followed by the bluish fiery plumes of several thousand more missiles as they rocketed straight into the Republic formations.
The Republic pilots were clearly taken by surprise not only by the engagement range (not including the speed of the Falkens), but by the missiles themselves.
They were clearly not used to being targeted by such fast moving missiles in such a manner, having only 10 seconds at most to evade.
Most of the Clone pilots did take evasive maneuvers, throwing their fighters into wild spins, but as he predicted only half of those were successful.
The missiles hit the formation in rapid succession as over 2,000 missiles found their mark , the rest missing by mere yards.
He watched in fascination and glee as his two missiles, both found their targets, a 170 and a V-wing.
The sturdier 170 was blown in half as the V-Wing was turned to nothing more than a short fireball and fragments.
Explosions covered the space before the UNSC fighters as they past the 500 kilometer mark.
His radio was filled with shouts of glee as the fighters radar and computers tallied 2,132 Republic fighters destroyed in a single strike, the V-Wings taking the worst as the inferior fighters were unable to evade due to their terrible design.
"Full throttle! Nearing gun range, prepare for Cobra maneuvers !"he called out as he like every other pilot never kept his fighter on a straight course, always aiming in the general direction of the enemy and quickly altering as to not be hit.
The Cobra maneuver was an ancient dogfighting maneuver which was meant for Zero-G combat and to take advantage of it.
The fighters would hold their vector and go head on into the enemy until around 80 miles away, giving them seconds to pull up and go on a heading to take them either over or "under" the enemy before spinning on their axis and attacking with the cannons at the enemy's then larger profiles and as they passed their rear, the momentum of the UNSC fighters staying the same, keeping them at their current speed, making them very difficult to hit, after which they would then pursue the enemy.
He watched through the octagonal interconnected viewscreens that gave him a near 360 degree view of the space around him as the range dropped to 150 kilometers, 100, then finally 50 as the Republic ARC-170s with their heavy laser cannons returned fire, managing to take several Falkens out with multiple hits, taking down the shields and blowing them apart, proving ONI right that they were the biggest threat.
When the 25 kilometer mark was past he all but shouted.
"Now!" he roared as he yanked on the stick, the Falken shaking under him as the UNSC fighters all either shot "up" or "down" relative to the Republic fighters, which in turn began to bank to meet them.
As his Falken shot up he cut his thrust and reversed it, flipping his fighter around 180 degrees on its central axis in a second, slamming him with 20 G's though his internal dampener and G suit took care of all but 3 of the Gs, the other fighters doing the same.
Time seemed to slow as the distance closed to under 4 miles in seconds due to the speed of which the opposing sides were rushing towards each other, he could see the mass of Republic fighters now, all banking to meet them.
He was in gun range.
And a ARC-170 came into his sights, the ship still turning to meet him, clearly taken by surprise by the maneuver.
He grinned as he pulled the trigger and sent a stream of red 50mm armor penetrating tracer rounds into the hapless fighter.
The ARC-170s were the only fighter in the Republic's arsenal that possessed particle shielding to stop projectiles, but they were quickly ripped off by the first couple of rounds, leaving the rest to shred the fighter apart.
The process was repeated countless times as Republic fighters were torn from the sky in a turkey shoot, their superior maneuvers taking them with their pants down.
He screamed in delight as his fighters position became that of "behind" the still turning fighters, placing him behind three V-Wings, which as he began to throttle forward to give chase he held down the trigger and swept his reticule over them by applying his rudder, the ship subtly vibrating with the mighty weapons fire, knocking two of the V- Wings out as the third evaded.
As he built up speed he dove head first into the dogfight, his wingman taking position next to him as the Falkens split into the customary pairs, one covering the other, as they blew through laser fire and began to twist and turn in wild maneuvers to both avoid being blasted, which around 100 Falkens were unsuccessful at as they were speared by multiple bursts of laser bolts, usually fired from 170's.
He found another 170 as he fired three of his micro missiles, the Republic pilot evading the first with an impressive snap roll before the other two took the right wing and engine off the fighter, leaving it to spin helplessly away.
The UNSC fighters were quickly evening the numbers, but as the Republic pilots, not necessarily slouches themselves, began to learn and do what they could to adapt and began taking Falkens out in more balanced numbers, though the UNSC pilots still had at least a 1 to 5 kill ratio .
However as the Republic fighters adapted the numbers against the UNSC fighters began to take its toll, causing the fighting to be all the more bloody as Slayer 1 threw his fighter into a spin to avoid a ARC-170 that was spitting fire from its cannons, one twin burst hitting him and dropping his shields to 30 percent.
He spun away but couldnt get a bead on the fighter as it had learned not to try and play his game of turning into an outright dogfight, using hit and run tactics instead.
As yet another Falken, this one aflame streaked by not mile from him, he switched to his missiles to counter the clever Republic pilot's attack, sending a AGM up its tail and turning it into a tiny sun.
The radio crackled as the others fighters twisted and turned through the battle.
"Viper 6 Fox Three! ...I got one on my tail, I can't shake the bastard!... Im out of missiles! Winchester. Winchester!. Turn around to vector three eight oh, enemy fighters vectoring in! Im on his 12! Tagging the bastard!"
His wingman was having similar issues as he found himself being attacked, harassed was more the word, from a Eta -2 interceptor that was not getting off his tail.
He turned to engage.
Eta-2 Interceptor
The ferocity of the UNSC fighters attack had stunned her, and if it were not for the force she would have been dead by now.
Their manuevers had dazzled even her, and she doubted even Skywalker would have predicted their zero g maneuvers.
Extreme Zero G maneuvers were something that only the most well trained pilots in the galaxy did, as it required the Internal Dampeners that allowed for the accelerations to be executed by fighters to be either turned off, lowered, of removed altogether.
The Clones did receive some training in Zero G maneuvers, but as they had to be rushed through training as fast as they could the subject was only briefly covered as it was the most complex.
The UNSC pilots must have trained for years as well as subjecting themselves to crushing G forces by centerfugal force, making the Terrans all the more impressive.
After throwing her fighter, which when compared to those of the Terrans was the size of one of its wing and engine sections, into some of the most wild maneuvers she had ever performed while letting her senses and the Force guide her through the hell of exploding fighters and streams of enemy projectiles and missiles, eventually finding herself on the tail of one of the daunting UNSC fighters, its two oversized engines spitting red and orange flame as it tore another V-wing out of the sky with a short burst from twin cannons.
She struggled to stay on its tail as its pilot threw the fighter into maneuvers that the large fighter should not have been able to perform.
Achieving a lock with he lasers she sent a double blast into its port wing section, however he blasts were all but absorbed by the glowing gold energy shield it had around it.
The pilot almost immediately snap rolled, which she also countered, and threw his or hers ship around on its central axis to bring its weapons to bare.
Sending another double burst, which was again deflected, she yanked up on the stick to avoid, and barely, the stream of orange projectiles from turning her ship into the shreds that so many other Republic fighters now were.
She just didn't have the firepower to take it out quickly, something that was evident as her radio was filled with the other Republic Eta-2 Pilots announcing that their weapons fire was almost insufficient to bring down one of the enemy fighters.
Her skin was drenched in sweat as she called out to the force to get her through this hell of battle.
Her senses tingled as the UNSC fighter whom she had attacked had its wingman turn to engage her after blasting yet another 170 out of the sky.
Dodging a stream of projectiles she cursed as her little fighter was almost thrown about from a huge explosion from one of the Terran's oversized missiles.
Pulling hard on the controls she regained control as she stole a quick glance at the ensuing battle.
The explosions of dead and dying combatants made the scene surreal as the curving backdrop of the UN Colony was accompanied by the fiery explosions of fighters and the lightshow of lasers, missiles and streams of projectiles helped set in the reality of war.
As she checked her display she looked on in gloom, the UNSC fighters had broken though and had made a gaping hole in the Republic's fighter cover, taking out nearly 7,000 Republic starfighters, a full fourth of the fleet's fighter cover.
The UNSC Fighters had paid a price though, just over a fourth of their number were destroyed, left as debris clouds or as drifting wreckage. Aayla noticed that most of them had fallen prey to the 170's heavier weapons, making her think that when the next battle unfortunately came, the Republic would field far more of the heavy fighters, and less if any of the V-Wings and her own Eta-2s.
The fleet had broken off into three groups now, the first being the bulk of the main fleet which was in position near the UNSC starbase which was under assault, the second a group of 10 Acclamator Assault Ships and a couple of Venators which were taking up positions to land troops on the UN colony, and the thirty ships that Yularen had sent after the UNSC fleet.
"How many must die in this war?" she whispered before the warning sirens blared.
"Enemy heavy fighters have broken through the fighter screen and are about to be in position to attack Elements 2 Charlie of the fleet. Believed to be heavy bombers. Any fighters able to intercept attack."
Flipping her fighter "over" towards the fleet she saw that the radio was correct. The UNSC had been able to slip close to 100 large craft the each size of a freighter through the massive hole in the Republic fighter screen the Terran's own fighters had ripped open.
She and maybe sixty other Republic fighters were able to engage, as the UNSC fighters were busy keeping the hole opened and were focused on keeping the space they had opened up clear of any Republic fighter reinforcements which they were turning to engage, both leaving their own bombers to fend for themselves and keeping the Republic fighters too tied up to intercept save her ship and the handful of others.
Pushing her ship to the redline she ate up ground between the large flying wing ships, though for their size they were very agile, far more agile than she thought possible.
The bombers began to fly in random vectors as the Republic ships they were targeting, some 10 Victory Cruisers, The Imperator Star Destroyer Executrix, three Venators and seven Acclamtors; all bringing their weapons online to meet the looming threat.
The distance between her and the bombers dropped until she entered laser cannon range.
Before she could fire the bombers split into two groups, with one staying on their present course and the others banking a hard left, forcing her to follow and altering her vector.
Aayla gasped as she saw where the second were heading.
Straight towards the group of support ships that came along with the fleet.
Most of them were troopships, many of which were finished unloading their cargo of landing barges which were heading towards the Terran colony, but also present were resupply vessels and Medstar frigates, hospital ships.
They were completely defenseless.
There were two Victory class cruisers which were moving to cover them, but they would not be nearly enough.
"Those bastards! Lets get them!" A clone pilot in a V-Wing that had come along side her shouted as he redlined his fighter's throttle, charging his lasers for a shot.
The force tingled as she sensed that something was wrong.
Franticly looking around for any threat she looked as the back of the gigantic UNSC Heavy fighters to see two ports open up in the back.
"By the force, Look out!" she screamed into her headset as she flipped her small ship over.
The V-Wing pilot had no chance.
Two ventral guns in the back wings of the wing ships spat out a stream of projectiles that tore into the V-Wing and exited through the cockpit with a bloody mist.
Several other Republic fighters were taken off guard as they either were forced to dodge out of the way or joined the V-Wing pilot in the afterlife.
Rolling her little fighter through two streams of cannon fire she raked her guns across the nearest ship's rear, only to be rewarded with the glowing energy shields deflecting or absorbing her fire.
Cursing she simply held down the button as her lasers began to heat up from firing, the UNSC pilot throwing his ship into a roll as it tried to shake her, performing maneuvers that only a normal sized fighter should be able to do.
The distance between the oncoming UNSC ships and their helpless targets closed as an ARC-170 tore through one of the crafts shields and turned one of the two engines to slag, sending the ship into an unstoppable spin before pumping a proton torpedo into it.
The thing's shields finally gave in as she fired into one of the craft's wings, taking out one of the cannons but not before a shell took the head off of her astromech droid.
Her radio began screaming, "Shoot down those bombers! We can't get them all there are too many...agh!"
The ID on the audio was of that of the Victory Cruiser Allecto which went up in dozens of bright white fireballs as the Terran ships unleashed a swarm of missiles into it, all of them powerful thermo nuclear devices.
The fire settled to reveal that the ship was a twisted wreck as the Republic ships that the first group of Terran fighters had attacked fired every weapon they had, knocking dozens of the large craft out of the sky but not before two more went up in white thermonuclear firestorms.
Seeing that the support ships would go down in that manner she held the firing stud on her stick as she poured laser fire into the lead bomber, finally hitting something vital as it spun out of control and exploded in a dirty fireball.
"I have to stop them, and there is only one way..."
Gunning her fighter her ship shot out in front of the UNSC ships, which to her shock fired on her with front mounted cannons as well as she shot in and out of their streams of fire.
She was only twenty or so kilometers away from the Republic ships before she flipped around to face the enemy.
"I have to stop you."
The Terrans fired.
Each of the now 38 ships fired four large and oversized missiles, which shot away in fiery plumes as the UNSC ships all banked up and looped over to get out of the danger zone.
One Hundred and Fifty two missiles screamed towards her and the helpless fleet.
There was no way in the force she could get them all, but she had to try.
"Force give me strength." she whispered as she shot towards the missiles before spinning over and putting herself on the same axis of the missiles.
Four came into her sights as she let the force guide her shots.
Two seconds later the missiles were reduced to dust from her lasers, but there were much more.
The Republic support ships began to fire the few weapons that they had in order to save themselves, but they knew it was not enough.
The distance closed as she shot four more down, and then another and then another.
She had only stopped 18 of them before the first missiles struck a Medstar class frigate, which was providing logistical support to the fleet.
It was cracked in two from two bright flashes of light and gamma radiation which wrecked shields and ripped hulls open.
Aayla screamed as she downed two more which were heading towards the largest of the troopships before dozens more of the missiles hit.
She turned to see one of the missiles explode not five miles from her.
She was thrown about her seat as her left restraint snapped, sending her head into the consol and knocking her out cold as her fighter was thrown helplessly through space.
LRB5
Out of one of the Republic transports that were now littering the main hanger bay of the Terran battlestation, which itself was littered with bodies of fallen soldiers and wreckage, strode a single Jedi.
Looking around at the scene before him Jax couldn't help but feel anger, one of the largest taboos of the Jedi, ebb slightly within him.
The damn Terrans had caused far more damage than he had ever even thought possible, by the force by the time the fleet had won they would be lucky to have anything left of it.
He turned his attention to the Clone Commando who was jogging up towards him through a pile of debris and to his angst, nearly tripping over the body of one of his fellow troopers which had half of its head removed, allowing brain matter and bits of bone and blood to spill out onto the deck.
The Jedi had to fight to keep his stomach from doing a backflip at the sight.
Never had he seen battle this brutal before.
"Sir! RC-1138 reporting for duty!" the Clone snapped to attention as his fellow three commandos formed next to him, their bulkier and stronger Katarn Armor each colored in a wild display of colors and designs.
"Relax," he waved them down as the nodded and slung their DC-17s across their chest plates.
"What is the situation?" he asked as more sounds of battle could be heard as the familiar whine of blasters and the unfamiliar roar of Terran projectile weapons off down one of the service corridors that connected to the bay.
"We have managed to secure the main landing and docking bays on the station but moving forward and taking the rest of the station has been an issue, the UNSC Marines as they call them have put up fierce resistance and our casualties are heavy. We are advancing but for every hallway we take we loose at least five troopers." the Clone spoke with a grim tone.
"What were your orders when you boarded?" he asked.
Shuffling around as yet another transport landed and disgorged its troops the Commando answered, glancing over to see a row of wounded troopers being loaded onto the same transport, many of them screaming in pain or not moving at all, some with whole limbs torn to bloody stumps or with their torsos full of fist sized holes, all of them spilling blood out onto the deck, and clearly taking the medical teams aback as they were not used to dealing with such dreadful wounds.
Blasters were so much more tame.
"We were to take the command centre of the station and kill or capture the commander or any COs in charge sir."
Bringing up his wrist mounted holo-screen Jax brought up a rudimentary map of the station and where their forces were.
Scanning it he quickly saw where the Republic forces were meeting the most resistance.
If they could break through then capturing the station would be much easier.
"Belay that 1138. We need to break through the main area of resistance so our forces will be able to take the station." Jax ordered.
The clone seemed to be taken aback, "But sir if we can eliminate the leadership then the enemy looses all cohesion and defeating them becomes a cake walk." it argued as the Commandos comrades noticeably looked at one another.
"Thats an order Clone."
UNSCDF FT. Longstown
"This is gunnery control to command, we have ten tangos and assault barges entering the atmosphere from low orbit, two of which are attempting to gain orbital firing positions on us and are in our firing arc, Do we have clearance to fire?" the gunnery officer of the underground heavy MAC gun as well as the ring of ten Mass Drivers that encircled the base asked as the General of the base, a Two star Army veteran from the Covenant war.
The radio in the control room fifty meters underground crackled as the computers showed the MAC was charged and ready to fire.
"By all means clear the skies, what little Interceptors we have are tied up right now and the Fleet cant provide any fighter support save a dozen Falkens and the Longswords they have given us for cover are optimized for ground support and area air defense. They have already landed assault ships and barges fifty miles from the base, but they came in from a low vector out of the firing arc. What dropships they tried to send towards us and the city were wiped out, looks like they are going to bombard us. Show them that we dont really like ships flying over our heads."
"Yes sir." he answered crisply as he nodded to the MAC gunner, who gave a thumbs up as lines of information streamed in front of his consol.
At the start of the Covenant war it became quickly apparent to the UN that because of the odds against the Navy holding orbital superiority against the superior Covenant ships (at the time), that once the Navy lost the Covenant were free to simply destroy any military bases planeside from orbit with little effort.
After the loss of Harvest the UNSC Army and Marines quickly began adding anti orbital guns to their bases, usually Mass drivers or ICBMs loaded with MIRVs , but by the Fall of Arcadia the bases on the ill fated military hub were all equipped with underground MAC guns, which once Admiral Cole was forced to abandon the world and its defensive fleet of one hundred ships were swept aside along with its Super MAC ODPs had caused the Covenant much harm and forced them to do bloody battle with the UNSC military men left on the planet, allowing 2 million civilian survivors to escape.
Soon after every major military installation had at least one, Ft. Ticonderoga on Reach had four such weapons.
"The closet target is a Venator class Star Destroyer, and the second tango is an Acclamator sir. Should we concentrate our fire?" the officer asked.
"Yes, have the Mass Driver batteries all focus their fire on the Venator after we drop its shields." the Commander replied as he took his seat.
"Ready to fire." the dumb AI in charge of the weapons at his disposal affirmed in dull monotone.
"Fire."
From outside the base it looked like a large silo half a click away opened up and for a split second electricity sparked in the air before a gigantic thundering crack and hypersonic scream filled the air as a 900 ton slug was flung into and out of the atmosphere at 1/4th the speed of light.
Its target, the Venator class star destroyer Hurlania had only enough time to register the power spike on its sensors before the slug slammed into the shields of the warship, the force of the blow overloading the shields in one fell swoop as the shield generator exploded, the shields not focused to take the hit from its belly.
The 1,100 meter warship seemed to violently lurch as the momentum was transferred to it no thanks to Newtons Laws.
However as the crews of the ship began to recover and direct its weapons at the assailant 80 miles below the ten Mass Drivers, their forked turrets surging with enough electricity to power a small city, all fired in unison.
Ten 50 ton projectiles slammed into the now unshielded ship, their firing looking like streaks of golden lines reaching up from the surface.
Against the first salvo the armor plating on the ship held, but the Mass Drivers could fire every six seconds, so four more salvos slammed into the underbelly of the Venator before the armor gave in, allowing the next to penetrate and trash the hanger, engines and primary drive systems.
Now little more than a huge orbital base the Venator frantically tried to use its thrusters to push itself out of its rapidly declining orbit.
It never had the chance.
The MAC gun fired again, sending a slug right through the middle of the ships "spine".
The mass of armor, durasteel and ship tried to resist for a millisecond before violently loosing.
The ship cracked in half down the middle as two halves, the bow and the stern began to float away from each other and enter the atmosphere.
LRB5
"I cant believe that Jedi cancelled our mission," Sev huffed into Boss' s comm as the Republic Commando unit known as Delta Squad made their way through one of the service corridors that ran the length of the Terran battle station.
"I can," Fixer replied, "The UNSC would be doing the Republic a favor if they killed him in this battle."
Taken aback Boss turned his T-shaped visor to the commando, the simple act enough to make Fixer hurriedly reply, "Hey its not like I'm suggesting we do it."
Boss shook his head.
Though he had to agree it wouldnt be too bad of a thing if Jax were to die at the hands of the enemy, in fact it was far more likely now considering the enemy they faced.
He wasn't the biggest fan of the Jedi, in fact aside from those close to Kal Skirata he did not trust a single one. Now that their lives and those of the regular troopers were now thrown needlessly in danger because of Jax's "tactical prowess" that distrust was fast becoming outright loathing.
As if to break the conversation, Scorch checked the battle net as he took point, checking the corners as he expertly pivoted his DC-17 to point its business end towards any potential cover where a UNSC soldier might be waiting to ambush.
"These Terrans are just too good, from the casualty figures and how our Troopers cant break through their main defensive positions, one of their Marines are taking down at least three of our troopers."
Boss and the rest of Delta shuddered at that thought.
They had seen the wreckage from the hanger bay and the piles of dead Troopers, all of them horribly mangled by the Terrans projectile weapons. One thing that had stuck out was how many more Clone bodies there were when compared to a dead UNSC soldier, their odd looking armor was literally hit dozens of times before they ate it, and when the Republic did take their positions it was usually through overwhelming them, an ironic parallel to how the CIS had fought them, when the Republic Troopers were in the shoes that the Terrans now occupied, outmanned but not outgunned, forcing the battle to be all the more bloody.
"And dont get me started on what they did to our fleet," Fixer added as their headsets were filled with a frantic yell from the other Commando squad that had come on station, Valshtok Squad, whom had gone ahead of them as they had boarded three minutes before Delta had.
"Mayday Mayday! This is RC-1401 to Delta Squad!"
Suddenly the connection was filled with the unmistakable sounds of intense Blaster fire and explosions, before the unfamiliar load barks and roar of Terran weapons cut in, followed by a scream before the link suddenly went dead.
Not wasting a second Boss immediately yelled into the mike, "They are only about 300 meters ahead of us, lets go!" he powered up his blaster as he began to sprint down the corridor with his weapon at the ready, the rest of Delta squad close behind.
Reaching a entrance way that led to the service room where the last position of the Commando team was, Fixer and Sev took up positions on either side of the doorway as Boss and Scorch readied themselves to clear the entrance, Boss taking point.
Boss held up his hand and counted down to zero before he shouldered his weapon and quickly and expertly entered the room, the rest of Delta following behind their weapons searching for targets.
The room was the site of a battle, and the Commandos had their fears confirmed as they found the bodies of four Commandos , each of them lying in a pool of blood and entrails as their heavy Katarn armor was dented, battered, cracked and punctured in dozens of places.
"Hell.." Sev murmered as he checked the rest of the room.
Boss leaned over and examined the bodies and the scene.
"Looks like their armor was able to take more punishment than the Troopers at least, "Scorch noted as Sev snorted.
"It damn well better, still wasnt enough though.
"It looks like they were ambushed, "Boss pointed out as he noted the positioning of the bodies, lying where they had made their final stand, each one facing a different direction.
"Your right, It seems..." Fixer was cut off before Sev called out, "We got another body over here."
Exchanging a quick glance the three went over to one of the far corners of the room near another corridor, where lying with it back to the wall was a large figure clad in unknown black armor from head to toe with a rifle in its limp hands.
"A UNSC Marine?" Sev asked as he leaned to look at the dead Terran's silver visor that hid the man's face.
"No we know how they look like, this must be an elite soldier." Sev replied as Scorch scanned the enemy soldier's armor, which was burned, scorched and melted from what looked like several concentrated bursts of blaster fire, the fact that it had taken that much to bring the enemy soldier down disconcerting.
"You gonna take a souvenir ?' Boss asked Fixer as he was studying the enemy rifle in his hands.
"Just seeing the enemy gear. This weapon unlike any slug thrower I'm used to," he replied as the took a glance at the odd three barrel assembly of the weapon.
"Whats this?" Boss asked as he noticed a insignia on the left shoulder pauldron of the body.
It was a flaming skull with the letters ODST etched below them.
Checking his data pad the clone came up with an answer.
"This is apparently an Orbital Drop Shock Trooper, supposed to be the Elite of the Elite in the UNSC, apparently aside from Spec Ops they do some sort of crazy orbital insertion behind enemy lines." Boss informed.
"Damn, guess that explains why they took them by suprise, but still.." Sev replied.
"Move up the hallway and be extra cautious, there is no way that there was only one of them, we have to follow our "General's" plan of attack."
LRB5
Gunnery Sergeant William Talon checked his MA6 as he and his two other squad mates Jarrod and Adnan did the same, the last firefight with a squad of Republic Commandos having been a reminder of the power of the enemy they faced.
His fourth squadmate, Allan had taken three concentrated bursts of Blaster fire from the dying Republic clones, tearing through his shields and melting though his armor.
Adnan, a new ODST only recently out of training, was clearly having a much harder time dealing with the loss of a squadmate than he, a 20 year veteran during the Covenant war and one of the few lucky survivors of the Fall of Arcadia.
"The next enemy squad is coming up, they found their fellow squad." Jarrod informed as the small fly cam they had left in the room the bodies were in.
"Stack up, get ready to take these fuckers out."
Boss was leading the squad through yet another service corridor before he suddenly had that sinking feeling of walking into trouble.
Stopping in mid step he assumed the firing position as the rest of the squad followed.
"We are walking into a trap." he simply stated as Sev nodded in agreement.
Scorch then all but shouted, "Ive got strange heat sigs on my scope..."
He didnt get to finish before out of the corner of his eye Boss saw a shimmer of air in one of the far corners and what felt like a swoop bike slamming into his shoulder plate, spinning him around to the floor.
"Kryff!" He screamed as the rest of the squad opened up on the shimmer of air, which quickly moved to cover.
"Cloaking shields?" Fixer asked before a roar of Terran weapons fire answered his question.
Boss looked up just in time to see projectiles slam into the side of Scorch's helmet, who was laying down cover fire for the team to get into cover.
The side of his helmet exploded and Scorch went down with a scream as he brought his hands up to the side of his face, which was now covered in blood before he went unconscious.
Time seemed to slow as Boss felt helpless as Sev drug him into cover.
He and Scorch had been though so much together, he didnt even know what to feel as he struggled to ignore the fate of his friend.
"Use Infared!" he screamed as his HUD switched over to dull colors of heat based vision.
Noting Sev and Fixer had sustained injuries and their armor was now trashed, he spun out of cover to see the outline of an the enemy.
He fired a long burst.
To his surprise the shimmer lowered to reveal a Terran "ODST" , his black armor shimmering and crackling with electricity as the two stared at each other for a second before they unloaded on each other.
Boss fired his DC-17 as fast as he could sending two bursts of bolts into the man's chest armor, spinning the Terran around.
The ODST's own weapons fire struck him in the chest, causing him to be unable to breath as his Armor barely took the hits, the Katarn armor now cracked and flaking apart.
Gasping for air as the roar of fire between Sev and Fixer and the other Assailants reached a fever pitch, his comm full of curses from Fixer.
Aiming at the Terran again he unleashed a torrent of fire, the Terran doing the same as the two combatants, knowing that they were both going to die simply stood and fired.
Boss felt his left leg shatter in bone and blood as he fell to the deck, his helmet went back as yet another round hit him, cracking his visor and blurring his vison as his own fire stitched the ODST from his leg up to his face, dropping him like a stone, dead before he hit the floor.
Gasping for air he ripped off his helmet to see Sev lying still with his hands on his belly, blood smattering the wall behind him as Fixer kept firing, filling the air with screams of Mandolorian curses as he took down another of the ODST's with a stream of blue blasterfire before a trio of loud deep cracks cut him off.
Fixer groaned as he grasped the right side of his chest before falling back unmoving.
Limping to them he looked to see apparently the last ODST round the corner not ten feet away.
With out a second thought he charged, firing his DC-17, catching the Terran in the shoulder and forcing him to drop his weapon as the ODST rolled backwards away from the next burst before landing with a sidearm drawn.
Cracks filled the air as Boss jumped back into cover, but his rifle shattered in his hands in the process as a bullet went through it.
Bullets slammed into the cover he was in as Boss sung the Mandolorian battle prayer Kal Skirata had taught him before he ejected his arm mounted vibro blade before spinning around the corner and charging with a scream.
He caught the ODST off guard as he closed the distance and gave a visious slash, cutting the pistol in two and putting a nice slash across the Terran's black helmet and visor as the ODST dove out of the way.
"Bring it on you bantha foddor!" Boss roared as the Terran reached up and ripped off his damaged helmet, tossing it away and revealing the face of, to his surprise, a man of pale tan complexion of about 40 years of age with a shaved head and a large scar on the side of his check.
Reaching up he pulled a wicked looking ten inch blade out of a sheath on his chest the man spoke in a calm and low voice that was full of experience and anger.
"Clone, I feel sorry for you, you are nothing more than a slave soldier and you know it. The Republic citizens wont even defend themselves so they use slaves to fight for them instead. Cowardly." he spat.
Arcing his eyebrow Boss answered.
"I am no slave I choose to fight. Are there problems I have with the Republic, hell yes there are, but I can..."
"Enough talk." the Terran interrupted.
Boss and the Terran looked at each other for half a second before they charged...