10th January 2592

City of Archam

1449 GMT, New Madrid

Damn them. Damn them all to hell. Major Ramirez thought to himself as the reports came in over the radio. The aliens had taken defence line BETA. That meant that there was only defence line CHARLIE remaining before the aliens would overrun the command centre. Sitting in an abandoned apartment with what remained of his battalion, this was the first proper rest his men had gotten in nearly a week of constant fighting. His once 1000 strong infantry battalion was now reduced to around 500 men, half his battalion wiped out in just six days of fighting. Here they formed part of defence line CHARLIE, where the battalion had occupied two apartments split apart by a street running down the middle. They had been pulled off the front lines to recuperate, but since BETA fell, that now meant that they were back on the front lines. Ramirez sat on the rubble covered floor and leant back against the wall. The constant staccato of small arms fire in the distance reminding him that the planet was a war zone. He paused to think back to himself the events of what happened over the last six days.

He remembered being deployed to defence line ALPHA the moment the generals had heard that UNSC defence fleet had engaged with an unknown force. A few alien ships had broken off from the space battle and managed to identify and destroy all long-range comm satellites in orbit over the planet. After they had taken out the satellites, Ramirez didn't know what happened, presumably they re-joined the space battle. Without the satellites in orbit, there was no way the ground forces could send a message out or even check on how the space battle was progressing. His superiors noted that the only way to send a message for help would be to destroy the comms relay at the edge of the system, but they prayed that the Navy could handle the intruders. They were proved wrong. Only hours later did swarms of what he presumed were enemy transports craft flood the skies of New Madrid. At first, they made for Archam, the capital city of New Madrid, but that proved to be a mistake. The 91st Armored Division had managed to deploy all of their AA units in the city, shooting down many transports. That was when they got either really stupid, or smart. They started landing their troops outside the city. Why they simply didn't just bombard the living crap out of the UNSC ground troops, no one knows, but it meant that they wouldn't die so helplessly.

He remembered seeing them charging over open ground, with infantry and APCs. From a distance, he couldn't really tell what they looked like, but it didn't matter, he swore an oath to protect humanity, and that was exactly what he was gonna do. Their infantry seemed to have some shielding, but it wasn't very strong, a couple bursts from the MA7s broke it and they were killed soon enough. Their APCs were a different story, they had much stronger shields and the main gun tore many of his men to shreds. But what was most surprising about them was their speed, those things were fast. Ramirez reckoned it could give a Warthog a run for its money. Despite their speed, they could still be destroyed, rockets and tank shells solved that problem. Of course, by the time the APC's were dealt with, their infantry was right on top of them. Fighting would then be CQB and more men died which forced the defenders back and back. The next few days would be the same pattern over and over again. It was only on the third day that he finally got a good look at the enemy. He had just put a whole mag into an alien right in front of him, once he was sure it was dead, he analysed it. It looked avian, which sharp facial features and two mandibles. That was all he managed to get before they got the retreat order.

"Major, you better come take a look at this, we've got hostiles entering the street below." A lookout called out to him.

Ramirez stood up and walked over the lookout who called him. "Where?" He asked, taking the electrobinoculars from her.

"800 meters Southwest. I counted 4 APCs and about 200 infantry." She pointed out the general direction.

Ramirez looked through the electrobinoculars and saw exactly what she had reported. A column of 4 alien APCs moving slowly through the streets with the infantry on the flanks as well as a few point-men. Judging by their speed and the way they were turning their heads, they were scanning the buildings for hostiles.

Studying their formation for a few seconds, he thought to himself. The ideal range for engaging would be about 300 meters, rockets into the APCs, snipers to pick off their lead elements and heavy machine guns to lay down suppressing fire. He quickly shifted his eyes to another apartment across the street and saw what was left of Charlie Company taking positions by windows, waiting for his order to open fire.

He triggered his comms unit, one that was meant for short-range transmissions between him and his company commanders. "Alright listen up, we're going to engage that enemy convoy up ahead. I want a sniper team to pick off the lead elements, then rockets to hit the first and last APCs, once they go up, the entire battalion will open fire. Snipers are to mark officers as priority targets. They go first. Open fire on my order. Oorah?"

"Oorah." Replied several people.

"See to it." As he turned to study the convoy again, his company commanders were issuing orders via hand signals. As the men and women of his battalion took up firing positions at random intervals, a rocket launcher team came up and set up right next to him. Hefting the 20kg launched onto her shoulder, the operator sighted the first APC in the alien column, while her loader put in a PHEAT cartridge in.

"Wait for it," Ramirez whispered. Just a little bit closer. That's right, just keep taking a few more steps. As the seconds dragged by, it felt like an eternity. The nervousness was getting to him, sweat started to roll down the side of his head and his mouth all of a sudden became dry. NOW. "Snipers, take them out."

A floor above him, a shot cracked out and hit its mark, the 50cal high powered ammunition ripping through whatever shielding it had like a hot knife through butter. Immediately, the entire alien column stopped and the infantry began scattering for cover they could find in the rubble infested streets. That would prove to be a fatal mistake, or at least that was what Ramirez hoped.

"BACKBLAST AREA CLEAR" The loader of the rocket launcher team called out, tapping the helmet of his partner.

"Firing!" She squeezed the trigger and out a rocket flew. Travelling at 300m/s, the rocket flew towards the first APC impacting it on front armour, the explosion taking any unlucky bastard still standing within the explosion radius. Seconds later, she fired a second rocket, again hitting the first APC on its front armour. Enough damage must have been done to it because the APC turned into a bright orange and blue fireball.

"OPEN FIRE!" Ramirez heard his company commanders order. Immediately, hundreds of rounds began pouring from the occupied apartments onto the streets below. The constant light staccato of the MA7's contrasted with the heavy much deeper bangs of the sniper rifles. A heavy machine gun team had set up not too far away from him, unleashing streams of deadly 50cal armour piercing ammunition. A rocket team in the building across from Ramirez fired another pair of rockets at the last APC. But they were ready, the APC managed to reverse back quickly enough, the rockets hitting the street instead, blasting rubble into the air.

Then they started shooting back.

Blue tracers ignited from the alien formation, hitting of the exterior of the apartment. Some found their mark as Ramirez heard a cry in pain. He turned and saw a private clutching his shoulder in pain, his shoulder pads blown clean off.

"MEDIC! I NEED A MEDIC OVER HERE!" Someone called out.

Ramirez raised his own M400 DMR and began firing into the aliens. He sighted an alien with his 4x scope and pumped four shots into it when it's shielding broke he fired another round straight through the head. The sheer volume of fire his men were firing was beginning to take its toll on the enemy forces. Tens of enemy infantry were falling to UNSC bullets. That was when Ramirez noticed the main guns on the remaining enemy APCs turn and fire. He never saw the rounds leave their barrels, but he did see the destruction they brought. The two rounds impacted and exploded in the building where Charlie Company was holed up. From his position, smoke obscured his view of the aftermath, but over the comms, he could hear the chaos and screams.

"Shit, they got the commander! Someone get him out of here!"

"FUCK!"

"For the love of all things good, someone take out those APCs"

"Rocket up, on its-" The squish of a bullet going the victim was heard and then static.

"Major!" Someone on the comms called out to him. Ramirez ceased fire and took cover behind a wall. "Lieutenant Lee here, those APCs nailed Captain Miles, he's gone sir."

Ramirez cursed silently to himself, Miles was one his senior officers who commanded Charlie Company. "Very well Lieutenant, you're in command now."

"Yes sir." Came a nervous reply.

"Keep pouring it into them. Concentrate on the infantry, I'll get Bravo Company to deal with the APCs."

"On it sir. Keep up the fire-" That was all Ramirez heard before the comms cut.

Intending to keep to his word, he turned to the rocket team next to him. "Hit that last APC! Send them to hell."

"Yes sir!" The operator replied, sighting in the rear-most APC. After being given the all clear from her loader, she squeezed the trigger twice in rapid succession. Two rockets flew out and impacted the APC, knocking it out. The loader was in the process of reloading when the last remaining APC turned its main cannon towards them and fired.

Ramirez watched as the blast engulfed the rocket team and claimed a few unlucky privates who were near them before being thrown off his feet. His ears were ringing and he could feel blood rolling down his cheek. His back felt weird and his vision blurred. A private came over.

"-you ok?" Ramirez's hearing started to come back to him. "Sir, are you hit?"

Shaking him off, Ramirez managed to pull himself up. "I'm alright private, keep firing."

"Major!" His comms rang out. "All our rocket teams are dead or incapacitated! We have no anti-armour capability."

Ramirez stared blankly into space. Without rockets, they couldn't take out the APCs which were going to rip them to shreds. While a decent number of their enemy infantry had been killed, there were still enough to finish them off with the support of the APC. As he began to accept his fate, and mentally prepare himself to not see his loved ones again, a female voice called out to him on his comms.

"Major, this is Corporal Lockheart of ABLE Company. We're on the ground floor here and we can take out that APC sir."

"Corporal how? I was under the impression that all our rocket teams are out." He asked.

"They are sir, but I have a satchel charge on me. If you can cover me, I'll make a run for the last APC."

Are we this desperate now? Ramirez thought to himself. "Negative Corporal sit tight, hold your position, we'll find another way."

"Major with all due respect, if I don't do this, we're all definitely going to die here."

Damn her, she's right. And she knows it'll be a one-way trip. Ramirez didn't like sending good soldiers to their deaths, but if he didn't approve this, the changes that his entire unit would be wiped out was high. Such is the burden of command.

"Very well Corporal." He reluctantly gave in. "I'll get the whole battalion to cover you."

"Thank you sir. It's been an honour sir, make it count." Corporal Lockheart's voice came back, saying the last sentence with some sadness.

Ramirez switched channels on his comm to his entire battalion, or whoever was left. "Alright listen up! ABLE is going to try to take out that last APC. I want the entire battalion to lay down cover fire. Kill anyone who tries to stop them."

His men ceased fire temporarily and aimed their assault rifles at new targets. "On my mark…..SUPPRESSING FIRE!" He shouted out. Hundreds of assault rifles started emptying their 80-round magazines into the enemy formation, only pausing to reload. The lone heavy machine gun team that survived the enemy onslaught firing till its barrel started to glow a hot red.

Ramirez watched as Corporal Lockheart and three other men broke cover and started sprinting to the last APC. Reaching again for his DMR, he sighted an alien who just took down one of the men following Lockheart and was shifting to get a shot off at Lockheart. He sent three rounds into its head, painting the street blue. Which each passing second, Lockheart got closer and closer to the APC until she was in throwing distance. He watched as she primed the explosives, but as she was about to throw it, an alien popped open a hatch on the APC and managed knick her in the shoulder, dropping the satchel charge as she fell. Ramirez turned to fire at the new target, but a sniper beat him to it and put a bullet through the aliens head. He returned his attention back to Lockheart, and what he saw astounded him.

Corporal Lockheart was crawling...actually dragging herself closer to the APC. One hand pulling herself, the other clutching on to the satchel charge. Even without seeing her face, Ramirez could tell that she was in great pain, and only sheer determination pushing her on. Another alien tried to stop her, but he was caught out in the thousands of bullets still pouring out from the UNSC position and killed.

A full minute passed before she reached the wheels of the APC. As she lay the explosives right underneath the belly of the APC, she shot a glance back towards Ramirez, gave a weak smile and salute. A second later, the explosives went off claiming her and the APC.

Seeing their last APC go up in flames, the remaining enemy infantry started falling back. It wasn't an unorganized rout, rather a skilful rearguard was put up as they fell back. As they moved out of sight, the firing lessened until a near total silence dominated the battlefield. Only the licking of flames from the burning APC wrecks and the cries of the wounded making any sound.

Ramirez lowered his DMR and scanned the battlefield. Satisfied that the enemy had withdrawn, he toggled his comms to his company commanders. "All units, status report."

It was a few minutes before he got a final count. Out of the 520 men he had at the beginning of the battle, there were now only 250 combat effective men left. 130 were killed, the rest wounded. Charlie Company was all but wiped out, having been reduced to a three dozen or so men. It soon dawned on him that in effect, he effectively had maybe a single combat effective company left. From his original three to his current one.

He inwardly sighed to himself, watching through his electrobinoculars as he observed what was left of Bravo company scour the streets below, some were recovering Corporal Lockhearts body from the streets below, some were looking for potential prisoners and the rest were collecting weapons and other useful intel. Alien bodies were strewn everywhere, littering the street. The wreckage of the alien APC's still burning a brilliant orange, their main guns still pointing at the apartments they were targeting moments before their demise. A sudden movement from his troops below caught his attention, a private was standing over an alien, shouting to his CO and gesturing him to come over. Another figure ran over and knelt down.

Ramirez's comms crackled to life, "Major, Captain DeGrasse here, we got a live one."

Instinct took over before Ramirez had a chance to seriously think over his orders. "Secure him Captain. Take it prisoner; if it's wounded pump it with biofoam. The generals will want to see this. I'm on my way down to have a look."

"Copy that sir. We'll do what we can" Came the reply before the connection was cut.

Ramirez had never run so fast in his life before, he sprinted down 14 flights of stairs jumping over bits of rubble that obstructed him. As he entered the street level, he slowed himself down and briskly walked over to Captain DeGrasse. The company medic was seeing to the alien's wounds, pumping a clean bullet wound full of biofoam. As Ramirez looked down, he stared at the alien for what would be his second good look at one. Recalling his previous encounter, this only confirmed his memory, the alien looked to be at least six feet tall and had mandibles around what looked like its mouth. As he moved his eyes further down the alien, he noticed that it only had two proportionately long fingers on its hands and a thumb, each with talons on the ends. The alien's chest was rising and sinking very slowly, but it was clear that it was unconscious, to say the least. Ramirez turned his attention to the medic, who looked back at him and gave him a thumbs up, indicating that the alien would live, or so he hoped.

"Major." A lookout called out to him. "Friendlies coming in."

Paying full attention to his surroundings, he felt the street vibrating beneath him and he saw the rubble shaking. He ran onto a mound of rubble to get a better view, and he sighed a breath of relief. He saw UNSC army troops coming in, mostly on foot, followed by countless Warthogs of all variants and a squadron of the new K-Dragon tanks bringing up the rear. Ramirez marvelled at the latest of forerunner inspired human engineered designs. The K-Dragon tanks were the newest addition to the UNSC armoured forces, like their namesake, they were heavily armoured and carried a very powerful punch. Its predecessor, the beloved Scorpion tank, was only retired two years ago.

A figure stood from one of the Warthogs, held a hand up and clutched it, signalling the convoy to stop. As the convoy halted and the infantry dismounted, the figure walked over to Ramirez. He immediately recognised the silver UNSC eagle on the shoulder pads. He wearily raised his palm to his forehead in salute. "Colonel sir!"

The Colonel looked at Ramirez for a brief second before returning his salute. "Major. What's your unit?"

Ramirez pulled himself a little bit straighter as he dropped his salute. "42nd Infantry Battalion, 321st Regiment, 304th Infantry Division."

The Colonel looked back at him with sadness in his eyes, "Major I regret to inform you that the remainder of your regiment sustained heavy casualties. They've been moved to the rear to be reorganised. I'm sorry."

Ramirez was shocked. Are our losses that bad? The entire regiment is being reorganised? Before he could think again, the Colonel interrupted him.

"Major, give me a status report on the battle that just happened." He asked. Ramirez gave his report on the firefight in great detail, covering the initial engagement followed by the destruction of the enemy APCs and the loss of his rocket teams, followed by the heroic sacrifice of Corporal Lockheart. The Colonel listened intently, waiting for Ramirez to finish before speaking. "Very well, your troops are being relieved, head back to Division HQ and rejoin your unit. We will take over your position here."

"Colonel, one more thing." Ramirez blurted out as the Colonel was turning around. "We took a prisoner."

Stopping halfway, the Colonel turned around and raised an eyebrow. "Where?" A sudden tone of desperation in his voice.

Ramirez gestured to the alien now being carried on a stretcher, arms lying by its side. "We just found him shortly before you arrived. He was wounded in the firefight, we pumped him full of biofoam and our medic says it'll live."

The Colonel watched as the stretchers bearers guided the hovering stretcher towards the rear of the lines. "Major, you've managed to take the UNSC's first prisoner of this alien race. Congratulations." Holding his hand out.

Ramirez took it, grasping the Colonel's hand firmly as he continued. "They're tough bastards, we haven't had the chance to take one alive without killing it somehow. The generals over at division HQ will want to see this. Take one of the transport Warthogs, it'll get you there faster."

"Thank you, sir. We'll get moving now." Ramirez replied. He looked at the stretcher bearers before nodding at one of the transport variants of the Warthogs near the front of the convoy. He opened a channel to Captain DeGrasse, "Captain, take command of the battalion, get them back to Division HQ. Give me three of your best shooters, they will be riding back with me and the prisoner back to Division HQ. This prisoner is a priority."

"Understood Major, see you later." Came the reply.

Ramirez turned back to the Colonel, itching to know more. "Sir, if I may, how goes the battle for the planet?".

The Colonel stared back at Ramirez, and then looked at his surroundings, taking it in. The fire, the smoke, the destroyed buildings, the bodies. "I'll be honest Major unless if reinforcements arrive soon, we're looking at the capitulation of the garrison within four days. Small arms ammunition is running low, as is ammunition for our tanks and heavy artillery. Medical supplies are also being rationed. Ever since we lost ALPHA and BRAVO, we've been fighting for every inch of ground, and it's taken its toll. We're sure the enemy has lost more troops than us, but there just seems to be an unlimited number of them. To make it worse, what few aircraft we have left aren't enough to challenge enemy air superiority."

Sadness overcame Ramirez, the fact that they might all actually die here. Is this what it would have felt like at the beginning of the Great War? Every success we have just only seemed to delay the inevitable.

Almost as if sensing his thoughts, the Colonel continued. "But Major. It does not matter whether help arrives or not. We will fight on till the end, for the populace of this planet and to ensure the safety of humanity. We must believe that HIGHCOM will not abandon us, protocols are in place for events like this. But for now, I must go, Major, I must see to the deployment of my men." He turned around and started issuing orders out, instructing his men to take up positions in the buildings and to prepare to meet the next inevitable enemy assault.

Ramirez felt something, a sense of duty and hope in his soul that convinced him to fight on. The UNSC would not abandon them, not like this. And even if the garrison of New Madrid fell, just like the garrison at Harvest all those years ago, he felt assured that the UNSC, in all its might and glory would come back swinging to avenge them. Smiling to himself, he strode off to the waiting Warthog.


PFS Palaven, Turian Hierarchy dreadnought

Orbit of New Madrid

In orbit around the planet, New Madrid sat one of the many prides of the Turian Hierarchy. The 12th Fleet waited in orbit, its ships enforcing a strict blockade. Frigates and fighters ran regular patrols around the planet, ensuring that nothing got out. The heavier capital ships had formed taken positions around the flagship. Admiral Alnius stood aboard his flagship, one of the Hierarchy's newest dreadnoughts, the PFS Palaven and watched out a window as a cruiser slowly drifted by, it's blue engines contrasting against the black of space.

These aliens, are stupid. Stubborn but stupid, they cannot possibly comprehend the risks of activating a Mass Relay. In fact, they should consider themselves lucky that at worst, they become a client race to the Hierarchy and at best, they join the Citadel. What if it was the Rachni or the Krogan who came through that relay instead of us. Alnius thought to himself.

He drifted further into thought. But technologically speaking, they are rather advanced for a species that's never made it off its homeworld. No eezo on their ships? Firepower that could destroy a cruiser in a single shot? Evidence of energy shielding? If the Hierarchy could get their hands on this tech, it would ensure our dominance for centuries. But the use of nuclear weapons, barbaric. He twitched at the thought of watching a ball of light engulf a significant number of his ships.

When the aliens activated the relay in this system, the 12th Fleet had been patrolling its the system with its partner relay, guarding it against smugglers and pirates from Terminus systems who would have wanted to seek expansion through it. Of course, when Alnius took the majority of his fleet through the relay, they had been expecting smugglers or pirates, not an unknown species. He was determined to uphold Citadel Law, it was the only law that mattered yet his vision of a quick victory dissipated when the enemy ships demonstrated the ability to destroy one of his cruisers in a single shot. However, these alien ships, while definitely more powerful than his own vessels, were terribly unmanoeuvrable, his ships ran circles around them with little damage to themselves. They also possessed a form of advanced shielding, not kinetic barriers, but a fully functional energy shielding, at least that's what the preliminary data suggested.

Alnius, deciding that quoting Citadel Law in this instance would benefit him and the Hierarchy in pacifying these aliens. They had broken three laws: the use of nuclear weapons, the construction of ships exceeding the Treaty of Farixen and the activation of a Mass Relay.

Alnius took the advantages he had, speed and superior numbers and exploited them to its fullest. After all, he had almost 800 ships against 26 ships. Destroying the enemy fleet had cost him some 120 vessels, including most of his cruisers. These kinds of losses would have immediately gotten him a court-martial during a time of peace, but he immediately realised the potential of the enemy weapons and ships. If he could secure that technology for the Hierarchy, then he might even be looking at a promotion. It was exactly that which prevented him from communicating his findings to the Council, they would have intervened by now with the Asari and Salarians sneaking off bits of tech for their own benefit. But he was now wondering if he had made the right decision, it had been almost a week since their arrival and progress planetside was not fast enough.

Turning away, he walked over to the Quantum Entanglement Communicator (QEC) at the rear of the bridge and dialled in General Vitallios, commander of the 24th Turian Expeditionary Force attached to the 12th Fleet. The hologram of the general came up, and before Alnius could talk, he was beaten to it.

"Admiral, what can I do for you this fine day?" Vittallion asked rather impatiently, subtly hinting that he had more important things to do. He shot a stare at Alnius with his right eye, his left eye covered in a scar that he obtained from a close call with a Krogan Battlemaster a few years ago.

"General Vitallios, how goes the campaign to take the planet?"

"Progress has been made since we last talked, we broke through the second defence line earlier today and we should break the last one within two days. If the spirits are willing. Fighting is now restricted to the city and the enemy is becoming desperate, resulting in suicide attacks on our Makos. These aliens are tricky and stubborn, though what can you expect when you invade their homeworld." He reported.

"Have you acquired any intelligence of their forces?" Alnius asked, sounding hopeful as his attempts had been less successful. The enemy computers they recovered the debris in space had been either wiped clean or too heavily encrypted and many of the components that belonged to the enemy ships were no longer functioning, meaning that there was a small chance that the Hierarchy could successfully reverse engineer them.

"We have captured some firearms but other than that, no. Their firearms seem primitive yet efficient, but the reports I'm getting from my frontline commanders report that they are particularly effective against our men. The kinetic barriers can hold up to maybe five to eight shots before collapsing. In fact, their heavier weapons almost completely ignore our barriers. As for our Mako's they've proven that they can handle the small arms fire, but not their rockets or their tanks. Their resistance is almost fanatical, any attempts to take prisoners have been unsuccessful, they really do fight to the last man."

Stroking his right mandible, Alnius tried to picture the situation on the planet below. "I understand, I'll have the carriers deploy closer the planet, and I will divert more fighters from the Combat Air Patrol to you."

"I appreciate your efforts admiral. With the new air support, we should break through at a faster rate. We will teach these aliens that they cannot best the Hierarchy, and we shall reap the benefits of our conquest here today."

Alnius saluted the general, "For the Hierarchy."

Vitallios returned the salute. "For the Hierarchy." He pressed a button off-screen and his hologram disappeared.

Alnius walked back to the bridge and stared at the massive holographic projection in the centre displaying the formation of the fleet. The fleet was deployed over the largest city on the planet, attempting to support the ground forces with orbital reconnaissance and limited orbital bombardment using frigate grade mass drivers.

Bringing up his Omni-tool, he briefly glanced over the fleet status reports fleet status. Other than some damage from anti-air fire to one of his frigates, there was nothing else of note. While glancing through more reports, he thought to himself. These aliens are proving to be very resilient and stubborn, they have to be hiding something down there that I don't know about. He frowned for a second, before his eyes widened. Spirits, what if this isn't their homeworld, what if it's just a colony. What if they are in fact another interstellar- his thoughts were interrupted by his sensor officer sitting at her console.

"ADMIRAL" She called out. "I'm detecting radiation signatures a million kilometres from our position!"


Office of Naval Intelligence

Clearance: Level 2 (Analyst and higher)

Department: ONI Section 1

Report Subject: M850 MBT

Date Published: 2nd May 2590

The M850 'Komodo-Dragon' MBT (more commonly known as the K-Dragon) is the replacement for the M808B 'Scorpion' MBT. Introduced this year, it features a 125mm auto-loading cannon capable of firing all types of shells manufactured by the UNSC, a 40mm autocannon (which can be replaced with a flamethrower) and two 7.62mm machine guns. It's overall shape and design is similar to its predecessor, only that its turret is wider and lower. It has a crew of three consisting of a driver, a gunner and a commander who doubles up as a machine gunner. A commander was added to the M850 MBT as it was theorised that it would integrate better into the chain of command, having a commander allows for a dedicated person to communicate with other units leaving the driver and the gunner to focus on their tasks. It's armour composition made up of a [Classified] material which grants it double the armour thickness than its predecessor. It's engines allow it to travel at a top speed of 60km/h offroad. It can be carried via Pelican, however, the marine variant of the M850 has been adapted to be dropped from orbit (similar to an ODSTs drop pod). Lessons learned from the Great War have shown that marines often lack the power to secure a hot landing zone in a short amount of time. Hence why the new MBT of the UNSC accommodates that issue.