A/N: A few notes at the moment.
1. I know that Mass Effect Evolution has come out, but if I incorporate that, I've got to re-write everything in this chapter…and I don't feel that suits my story, so we're going to be making a big jump from the cannon for this.
2. Yes, I know Arcturus Station is a Sandford Torus in Cannon, but I made a design choice here for practical reasons.
3. The Aslan and the Vargr are also species from GURPS Traveller.
4. On a personal note, I have to say that the First Contact War never made sense to me from a Tactical or Strategic standpoint, or a political one. Almost three decades of animosity between Humans and Turians over about 1,200 casualties an occupation and a few naval battles? That seems a bit…ludicrous to me, along with the after affects. Humans regarded as aggressors on the galactic stage? No…that doesn't make much sense either. Tactically? The alliance abandoned the planet, and the commander withdrew his forces because they lost the will to fight? That seems suspect. Strategically? How could the Turians think a single world lacking heavy industry, shipyards, or a population base larger than a few million be the human homeworld?
So, I took some creative notes to make things a bit more logical. At least in my mind.
2157 Late September, Arcturus Station
It was the gateway to Terra and Muan Gwi. Some called it the Gatehouse. Others, the Fortress. But for most, it was simply Arcturus Station. Home of the fleet and the Capital of the Systems Alliance. It was a marvel of construction, built over twenty years at tremendous expense. Arcturus was the single largest construction undertaken by the Alliance, over fifty million tons of refined materials had been brought into the system through the mass relays, entire asteroids had been broken down and refined to construct the massive cylinder that was almost three kilometers long and one kilometer in diameter. Other stations filled Arcturus, from He3 refineries orbiting the systems gas giant, to complete shipyards that worked tirelessly, even defense stations that surrounded the Mass Relays, tending the automated weapons platforms and anti-matter minefields that provided the defenses for Arcturus, and the Systems Alliance Core Worlds.
Intended as a defense platform, the station had been sheathed in layers of armor and heavy shielding, studded with missile launchers, weapons bays and fighter hangars, the design had been expanded considerably and repurposed with the joining of the Vegan Polity to the Systems Alliance, considering that making Terra the Capital of the Alliance would have been a bit bigoted. So the decision had been made for Arcuturs Station to be a neutral capital, much like the reason that the Capital of the old United States had been placed in a separate Federal region, rather than any of the States. It had added five years to the construction time, but it had been worth it. Now Arcuturs boasted the Parliament, the office of the President, and the Supreme court, entirely separate from either of the major homeworlds. It was safe, secure, and pretty intimidating to representatives coming to negotiate with the Systems Alliance. It had compelled the canine Vargr and the feline Aslan to petition for membership in the Systems Alliance without firing a shot or trying to fight. Both of the planet bound races had decided to join rather than face a war or a quarantine of their worlds.
Even with the new members, even though there were four species that made up the Systems Alliance, the weight of the military and political traditions within the Systems Alliance was based upon the history of the Humans. It wasn't based on anything as paltry as racism, or bigotry, it stemmed from the fact that as a Species, Humanity had the longest 'cohesive' political history. Specifically the political history of a representative republic that started with the United States of America. The American system had been created to deal with the same issues that the Systems Alliance was facing; myriad peoples, all with their own ideas of how to do things. So the Alliance had based it's legislature on three houses, one representing each world based on population, the other giving each world a single representative, and the third based on species population. A president was the chief executive, much like the American system, and a Supreme Court existed as well for matters of both interpreting the Alliance Charter and Constitution, and for resolving matters between worlds.
Just as the political system had been human inspired, so had the military organization of the Systems Alliance, Fleets, Armies, Squadrons and Divisions were standard. Along with ranks, military codes of justice, and command systems…even alert levels. Taking a page from the American and Russian alert levels, the Systems Alliance worked on a DEFCON, or Defense Condition system of five levels. The DEFCON levels ran from 5, denoting peace, to 1, denoting full scale war. For the vast majority of it's history, the Systems Alliance had been at Condition 5, Peace. There weren't any major threats to be faced or to be concerned about. Of course, during the incident with the Reticulans and the quarantine of their planet, the fleet had gone to Condition 2 (Locked, loaded, and aimed weapons), but without a formal declaration of war. Contact with the Aslan and Vargr had caused the Alliance Fleet to go to DEFCON 3 (Full staffing, and heightened alert). But it hadn't lasted forever.
With the communication from Shanxi, that had all changed. It was a War, a true and complete interstellar war with a hostile alien species. It was DEFCON 1, for most it was just a theoretical exercise, units checked readiness. They made sure that they had the troop strengths that they were supposed to. In the Army unit armories checked power armor and weapons, mechanics checked tanks and APCs. In the Fleet, ships made full maintenance checks, captains and commanders checked with their XO's and chief engineers. Everywhere, from the greenest private to the most seasoned Admiral, briefing documents were opened and examined, checked and re-checked. The same name was on the lips of the many millions of soldiers, sailors, pilots and marines that defended the citizens of the Systems Alliance; Turian. What they were, who they were, where they came from…it was the sole topic of conversation among those members of the Alliance whose sole occupation in life was the art of ending the lives of others. They knew they were good. They had drawn on the military traditions and lessons learned from thousands of years of armed conflict by four separate species.
For others, there were other concerns. For their political leaders, the question was of how to properly grid their people for a war of a magnitude beyond any had thought possible. A war between worlds. There was no way to comprehend just how massive such a conflict might be. But the duty of the President and the Parliament was to decide how to wage that war, and the duty of the military was to carry out that decision with all the skill and determination they possessed. Their Commander-in-Chief knew that they were up to the task, but even she had her reservations.
Gretta Trindle was Austrian. She wasn't the first President of the Systems Alliance, nor was she the first woman to hold the office. But she was no stranger to politics, or making difficult decisions. She'd made many during her tenure as President, and knew that according to the opinion polls, the majority of her citizens felt that she was doing an acceptable job of keeping them happy. Of course, one couldn't pay attention to those…Aslan, Vargr, Vegans and Humans all had different ideas of just what 'happy' was. But she did her job well, although for the past three days, she'd been worrying that she wasn't doing her job as well as she could have been. Since the information had come in from Shanxi, she'd not been eating, drinking too much coffee, and not getting nearly enough sleep. It was understandable, of course. Like many members of the Parliamentary leadership she'd been briefed on the Turians by the Military and been just as shocked. There was probably a deep xenophobia in the mind of a sentient being. The thought that you were the top of the pyramid or food chain, that you were the best. For the Systems Alliance, it had been reinforced. Three other species had joined the Humans, none of them had FTL, and only the Vegans had an off world colony. Humanity, the Alliance, had cracked the nut. They'd got FTL, they had off world colonies, they had discovered the Protheans, they had used Mass Relays. Who could have managed all that before them?
But realizing that there was someone else out there, a whole bunch of 'someone else's' had been a nasty shock. Turians, Asari, Slarians…three species with their own galactic empires…who'd done the same thing that Humans, Vegans, Vargr and Aslan had done…and they'd been doing it for thousands of years. President Trindle didn't like the conclusions that her scientific advisors had come too. An alien collective with several thousand years of development? It was enough to give them shudder. If they had even a centuries worth of an advantage, the Systems Alliance could only hope to surrender and remain intact to spare the lives of the many billions of it's citizens.
Though…that wasn't an option, now was it? No sentient being ever willingly sells itself into slavery. Though their histories were different, though their biology was different, Trindle knew that not one being of the Alliance would become a slave to any alien species. That was the reason that the Vargr and Aslan became full members, and not 'associate members' to the Vegans and the Humans. Which was why Trindle knew that surrender wouldn't be an option at any point. Even when it came down to the last round, the last soldier, the last inch of free soil, they'd fight.
President Trindle sat behind her desk and rubbed her forehead wearily. She pushed back her long blonde hair and blinked her slate grey eyes slowly. She needed more sleep…much more than she was getting. The stims were enough to keep her going, but they weren't the same as closing your eyes. She looked up from the text reader on the elegant desk top and closed her eyes. It was a speech, the speech that she had to give. The Parliament had been assembled, and the time had come for the first announcement to be made about the…situation that existed, and that the Parliament had to make a formal, written declaration of war.
Trindle rose slowly and smoothed her suit absently. She glanced around the spacious office and walked to the door, followed by her bodyguards. The Presidential sections of Arcturus Station were nicer than the bulkheads that were prevalent throughout the habitation sections of the station and the defensive emplacements. It replicated that 'old world' charm and feel that Europeans enjoyed. Wood paneling that had been shipped in, elegant pictures and statues. It was a hell of a waste, but there were certain nuances that you couldn't ignore. And the psychological aspect of walking through what appeared to be an 18th century mansion…well, that couldn't be understated. As Trindle walked the hallways, staffers and members of the Presidential 'mansion staff' stepped aside and nodded respectfully. Trindle responded, but absently. It wasn't hard for them to realize that her mind was on things a lot more weighty than social niceties.
She boarded the lift and the bodyguard keyed it for the summit level of the Station…the Parliament Chamber. Set as the crown of the entire station, the Parliament was built in a multi-level amphitheater style. With three tiers for the three separate parts of the Parliament, the lowest level was taken up by the representatives of the worlds based on population. It was by far the most numerous group. The second was reserved for the representatives of each species. The third tear was for the single representatives of every world. It was a massive chamber, built to reflect an ancient Roman or Greek design with a few modern touches. Surrounding the seated repetitive were flags representing the ancient nations and former countries that represented the histories of the Alliance's members, from the Ancient Vargr clan banners to the last flag of the unified Vegans, they all hung from the walls of the chamber, a mute reminder of the weight of history behind them. But the history and the past that rested behind the representatives was balanced by the massive dome over their heads that gave them a view of the stars high above Arcuturs. It was a subtle reminder to the members of the Alliance, the history was behind them, supporting them, the stars above were the future of their peoples.
President Trindle walked to the chamber door and stood there for a moment, composing herself. She'd known this meeting was coming, her speech was ready…but like she always did, she felt a flutter of fear run through her. In her youth, she'd had a problem with public speaking. But now, she was about to give a speech to the Parliament that would go down in history, and one that would be broadcast throughout the Alliance. No matter how experienced a speaker you were, being watched by over 90 Billion people gave you some nerves.
Trindle closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath as the Vegan Speaker of the House made an announcement that had been heard for ages in one for or another.
"The President of the Systems Alliance!"
She took her cue and stepped through the tall double doors of the chamber, walking down the shallow ramp into the chamber, towards the podium and raised platform where the Vice President and other leaders sat, it was to general applause that Trindle walked. It was hard not to applaud the President. Especially now. Everyone in the chamber had read the briefing documents on the Citadel Council, and the Turian threat. All of it had been de-classified for them, and the majority of the representatives had read the documents as they'd been hurriedly called back to Arcuturs Station for a joint session of the Parliament. It had been to fast for the information to be leaked to any of the Multi-world news agencies. But the government had demanded air time from the networks and told them that there was going to be a major announcement in relation to the blackout from Shanxi…and that major speech was going to be made.
Even with the differences in time on the myriad planets of the Alliance, every network made sure to clear their schedule, and left much of the reporting to speculation from their own 'specialists' and political correspondents. Whatever was going to happen, they weren't getting any kind of nod from the government. As Trindle made her way up the platform and stood behind the podium, she was acutely aware of the cameras focusing in on her, but she forced herself to ignore them. She tried to keep herself as focused on an intimate presentation as she could manage.
"Representatives, I stand before you at a moment of dread peril. Three days ago, our Nation found itself faced with the unthinkable. Unarmed scientific vessels were assaulted and destroyed without warning. Nearly an entire expedition and it's naval escort were set upon by alien forces who refused contact and refused to cease their assault on a defenseless group of civilians. Though they fought bravely, they were annihilated save a single craft. They returned to Shanxi and information on the threat was unlocked. They're called Turians. An Alien species that is old, one that is a part of a group of Alien Species known as the Citadel Council. We are not sure of their intentions, but we do know that they have moved a fleet into the Shanxi system and are preparing to land forces on that world to invade. Ladies and Gentlemen, we face a grave threat, the likes of which none of our peoples have known in our histories. We do not know their strength, or their power, but we shall endeavor to fight them with every bit of strength and power that our people possess." Trindle said calmly, her words were greeted with applause, but there was a hint of nervous concern.
"We do not know where these invaders have come from, but their intentions are clear. Invasion. In my capacity as commander in chief have ordered the Army and the Navy to take whatever steps necessary for our defense. I have also placed our armed forces at Defense Condition 1, a war footing. Given the situation involved, I place it to the Parliament that a state of war has existed between the Systems Alliance and the Citadel Council since the heinous and un-provoked assault upon our civilians at the Shanxi-Theta Mass Relay. The Turian Hierarchy has made the opening blows in this conflict, but I have the utmost confidence in our Army and Navy that they will repel the onslaught against us, and win through to victory against this threat." More applause came, this more confident than before.
"I believe, that I correctly interpret the will of the Parliament, and of the people of this Nation, that we will not let this unprovoked assault force us away from our way of life. That we shall not allow this aggression to go un-answered, and that we shall wage this war with nothing short of our utmost effort. The conflict will be brutal, and I have no doubt that these invaders seek to annihilate us as a people, to face us with conquest and subjugation…but I also have no doubt that our peoples will rise up and face it with the steel and strength to which we are all known. From the disciplined determination of the Vegan, to the wild fervor of the Vargr. To the honor and tenacity of the Aslan, to the ancient warrior traditions of Humanity, we shall fight. Make no mistake, our foe is ancient, and he is skilled. I have no doubt that a species which has been in space since our ancestors on Earth were creating Babylon have a strong history of warfare. But we will not let the weight of their history crush us. We will not let them dictate to us simply because they have roamed the stars longer than we have. We shall stand tall and proud in our own cultures, our own history, our own Nation. We shall fight them on every world, we shall fight the Turians wherever they seek to do battle, and we shall give them the war they seem so eager to pursue."
"We shall give them war, and in return we shall have victory."
In the context of political speeches it wasn't exactly an immense discourse. But it said what needed to be said, and President Trindle had a reputation for getting to the heart of the matter. It was simple, and it was to the point. The Systems Alliance was a power that was more than willing to fight for what it believed in. It's people were intelligent, industrious, and capable, and all of them possessed warrior traditions that would have been sought after by generals throughout history.
The resolution to declare a state of war between the Citadel Council and the Systems Alliance was carried unanimously by all three houses of the Parliament. A further resolution was given for emergency war spending, and to authorize the Military to take whatever steps needed for the defense of the Alliance, and the proper persecution of the coming war. There was no call for conscription, nor was there a call for taxes to be increased. All in all, it was a short joint session when it came to accomplishing anything. But when it came to speeches, it was a banner day. The representatives were fighting for a chance to declare their support of the Military and their confidence in victory. It was what they did, while the military commanders did what could be done.
2157 Late September, Shanxi
There wasn't much that could be done. Not to say that there was nothing that could be done, far from it. But there wasn't much that could be done to defend Shanxi beyond setting up defensive positions, moving civilians to defensible positions and stockpiling every round of ammunition, bit of food and drop of water to prepare for a siege. General Williams knew that it was coming, and from his command bunker in the Xenbu Mountains that surrounded the Capital city, he knew he'd done everything he could with gusto. His four divisions were entrenched in the capital city along with the bulk of the Militia Battalions. Other units were scattered across the face of Shanxi guarding other small settlements, but Williams both hoped for and feared what he knew would be coming, the Turians would hit the capital first. So the majority of his forces were there.
He'd had the System Defense Boats form up in the outer system, hiding in the upper layers of the system's gas giant to await orders to strike. System Defense Boats were the equivalent of Naval Corvettes and Frigates, but lacking FTL drives. They would be useful for a raiding campaign against any kind of Turian support activities since they were more heavily armed and armored than their FTL equipped counterparts. Currently, twenty SDB Corvettes and two SDB Frigates were waiting for his order to launch a raiding campaign. Groundside, things were different. Almost 55,000 soldiers were dug in throughout the capital city, all four Reserve Divisions of 40,000 combat ready soldiers, and Thirty Milita Battalions giving an additional 15,000 soldiers. The other thirty Militia formations were scattered around the planet.
The Command bunker was linked to High Command for 'advice' and linked to every unit on planet. At his fingertips, he could link with any unit commander to confer and give orders. Not that he would. He'd come up with the overall strategy and plan, he'd given engagement orders and rules of engagement, and he was sure that they would be followed, now the battle was in the hands of his battalion and company commanders. Although the battle was not going to be in his control. There was an old staff college adage, 'armies in the field are commanded by their generals, in cities, they are commanded by their sergeants'. Williams knew that rule would apply in full here. The capital had sprawling suburban developments surrounding the built up area surrounded by mountains and rivers. It would take a lot of bloody fighting for the Turians to get into the city proper. The tactical information provided to him had been…sparse though. He didn't know how well Turians fought in cities.
Armies died in cities though…and humans were very good at killing them in them as well. Warsaw, Stalingrad, Detroit, Moscow, Mexico City, the list of infamous and bloody battles in human history was a long one. Humanity had learned that urban warfare was one where the most ruthless and tenacious warrior won…which was exactly why every Militia Battalion that he had at the capital was arrayed as the first line of defense with his reserves ready to reinforce. Even though there were far less Militia than regular Army units, Williams knew that the Militia had an edge the regulars lacked. They were defending their homes and families, they were fighting along side their neighbors and friends. If they were cowards, if they failed, they could never go home again. If they retreated, their families would suffer and die. Williams knew the Militia was going to take heavy losses, but he also knew that the Turians were going to have to pay for every city block, every street, every room that they took from the Militia.
The morale reports from most of the units was the same, grim acceptance. The Reserve divisions were ready for a bloody fight. The Militia knew that they were going to get stomped, but most of them were ready to die fighting if they had to…and were ready to do whatever it took to by their capital, their planet another two weeks until the Fist of Terra came leaping from Hyperspace to crush the Turian Fleet. From what Williams had heard, there were a lot of wills being written…
"General? Sensors report that the Turians have begun landing operations." The comms officer said softly. Williams looked down at the map table and it's holographic representation of the Capital and the surrounding urban sprawl. As predicted, the Turian shuttles were descending under heavy guard of fighters, and moving in towards the main spaceport. Williams smiled grimly. His combat engineers had prepped the facility with a few surprises.
"Good, let's give these Turians their first surprise." General Williams said, resting his hands on the map table and watching the red tinted images of the shuttles descend towards the spaceport.
In High Orbit over Shanxi, Williams' opposite number was watching a similar display. This one in 2D rather than 3D, but for the most part showing the same information as the vanguard of his forces moved in to land. It had been two days, and the Humans hadn't made even a token effort at resisting the fleet as it took orbital dominance and aerospace dominance of the theater of operations. Varkus wondered if the human was merely a fool or completely incapable of mounting an effective defense. It never occurred to him that his opponent might be taking a third option. Once the Turian fleet had Aerospace and orbital dominance, they could reign fire down from orbital ships and close support fighters at will. It was the age old battle tactic of controlling the high ground. Without that edge, combat would be incredibly difficult. But the Humans had merely relinquished it to him.
As Varkus watched he smiled at the screen, knowing that once he seized the human spaceport he would have the perfect staging area for his forces. According to the low level over flights of the area the day before, the humans had left it unguarded. It was the kind of windfall that any commander dreamt of. These humans were fools, and Varkus smiled for a moment at thinking that perhaps when they came to fight, they'd stand shoulder to shoulder like an pre-Industrial Age army. He chuckled softly, this was going to be a fine campaign, very fine indeed.
"Admiral, the first shuttles are making touchdown." The Comm officer relayed as the first landing craft touched down.
The Turian ships were making fast 'touch and go' combat drops in the spaceport. With the grim efficiency of professional soldiers, they leapt from their shuttles as they barely grazed the tarmac of the spaceport, disgorging squads of troops who formed up and began sweeping the spaceport. Weapons ready, moving in formation, they swept buildings and structures. A shuttle dropped a squad with rappelling lines right onto the top of the control tower and they cleared it. But as the comm reports came in from squads, platoons and companies, there was not a human to be found. Not even the barest hint of resistance came from anywhere. It was deserted.
"Commander, we're clear for you to begin bringing down the bulk of the forces. Position is secure." Came the word from the surface as the Turian troops formed up and set themselves in guard positions around the main landing pads and entrances to the spaceport. All of them were expecting combat, every Turian soldier had expected to find themselves under fire as they leapt from their shuttles. But not a shot was fired…that was scary enough for them. Batarians…Batarians were the kind who opened fire any chance they got. These Humans…nobody knew anything about them. The pre-briefings on the operation had been very vague about what they might be dealing with.
High above them, larger vessels left hangars and transports, carrying the large majority of the Turian ground forces. Armor, APC's and gunships, along with more infantry. Everything was going perfectly...
…and 'perfectly' scares soldiers.
General Williams watched. The intelligence being fed from the remote linkups from the Spaceport was invaluable. Watching the Turians move as combat units told him that they were disciplined, very disciplined. Even without being under fire, he knew that they'd do well in the face of enemy fire. As he watched, larger craft began descending from the Turian formation. He'd expected this, and his hand lifted to signal the comms officer. He nodded and his fingers tapped a few controls. The 'surprise' would work best when the larger Turian ships landed. Williams was willing to wait, and watched the slow moving enemy craft as they descended towards the surface.
Lilih stood behind a pile of shipping crates with some strange markings on them. He regarded the human language passively, and then turned back to look out across the Spaceport's perimeter fence. He had a good position with his squad, elevated with good cover to over watch the perimeter and keep the area secure before they moved out. Lilih was a veteran, he'd fought the Batarians for five years and he knew what combat was like. Not much scared him, but he was still young…and when you were young, you were more concerned about doing your duty than dying. He held up his weapon and aimed it idly as he knelt behind a few smaller crates. Even after five years, he still couldn't help but be bored when he was waiting for something to happen. Much better to be moving around and advancing, fighting, not waiting.
Lilih sighed and looked back over his shoulder as the sound of the larger transports cut through the calm air. He had to admit, it was a nice world, cooler than Palaven, that was for sure. The sun was nice…
Overhead, the forms of the transports cut across the local star and put him in shadow. The first large transport touched down on the empty landing pads. Lilih looked back at the perimeter and grumbled softly. The logistics boys had to unpack the Legion before they could roll out, and that was going to tak-
The entire world seemed to explode behind him. The bright light that erupted from behind him coincided with a sense of immense heat that seemed to flash burn his skin. Lilih felt his body flying through the air, hurled like someone might toss a toy doll. He didn't know what was going on since for some reason he couldn't hear anything at all and his eyes weren't telling him much of anything as he flew almost fifty meters before landing against the perimeter fence. He crashed to the ground as debris rained down from the sky. On reflex, Lilih curled into a ball and hoped that none of the rubble would land on him. He cowered there for a long time, his arms over his head, weapon forgotten, and praying that he wasn't too badly hurt.
It took a while before he braved opening his eyes and looked back at the main landing fields. What he saw shocked him. Whatever had happened, it had been immense…and in a flash, he knew what had happened, the hydrogen refinery had exploded…detonated and left a twisted flaming ruin behind…and there were other twisted ruins. Two of the massive boxy transports carrying tanks, troops and personnel carriers had flipped and were on fire. But that wasn't just it…as Lilih slowly pulled himself to his feet using the fence he'd come to rest against, he saw that the runways themselves had been cratered by explosives as well. Even the spaceport's landing terminal was twisted into rubble. As Lilih watched the control tower, which held the Hierarchy's banner collapsed in on itself in a shower of dust and rubble, the banner lost to the cloud of dust. Coughing slightly, he bent down and picked up a rifle, whether it was his or someone else's he wasn't sure…but there were multiple Turian bodies around him, and not everyone was moving. Hefting his weapon he began checking on his wounded comrades…and wished he was bored again.
General Williams smiled.
The Turian had been a fool. The Spaceport had been packed with explosives in several service passages, and the hydrogen refinery had been rigged to explode. It was a spectacular ambush and an expensive sacrifice. But in return for detonating it all, the main spaceport was ripped to shreds, along with several of the enemy transports and the hydrogen plant wouldn't be giving them any fuel. The intel from the spaceport showed a lot of Turians who wouldn't be getting up, and most of the units were moving slowly, shocked by the detonation.
Williams nodded. The first move had been his, and the Turians had received a potent message, they wouldn't be getting an easy victory. He checked the dispositions of the Militia and knew that his second blow would have to wait until darkness had settled and more Turian craft had landed. It would be the best hunting time for his Militia units, and the General wished to give them every possible advantage that he could muster for them…and he wanted to give them the first chance to make contact with the Turian ground units. Anything to buoy their morale would be a welcome addition. But for now, he had to wait further, and smile at the misfortune his opposite number was experiencing…and for General Williams, he remembered one of the oldest axioms of warfare. 'He who makes the least mistakes, wins.' Williams resisted the urge to cross his fingers, hopefully this mistake on his opponents part would be one of many.
Admiral Varkus snarled in shock. He knew how much of a setback this was and chastised himself for not checking the Spaceport more thoroughly before moving in the transports. Now he had lost the armored and mechanized elements for half a legion due to that oversight. He growled and his fist slammed on the edge of the map table. It was a careless mistake, very careless. If he'd seen one of his junior officers make it, he'd have reprimanded the…the…fool. Admiral Varkus didn't like that thought at all either. He was smarter than this, better than this! These humans were barely capable of making it into space, they couldn't outwit him.
"Admiral…orders?"
Varkus glared in the general direction of the questioner and turned back to the view screen. He sighed slightly and shook his head. He needed to focus and calm down, he was an Admiral, not some Officer candidate.
"Begin moving in reinforcements and combat engineering units, I want that spaceport repaired and secured. We need that landing zone for supply." Varkus said tersely. His officers obeyed and he looked at the map again. He growled once more. The first moves had been made, and the human had drawn first blood it would seem. Cowardly move or not, he had been smart enough. The Human had cost him a day at the least, more like two. But Varkus knew that he had time to burn, the humans were isolated, he had complete control of everything above the surface, and he could bring in as many reinforcements as he needed.
It was just a matter of time.
They had lain in wait for hours. Hidden in the warehouses that surrounded the northern edges of the spaceport. It was a small unit, only a company. But they had a very important task. B Co, 3rd Battalion, Shanxi Militia was dug in and waiting for the first Turian units to advance towards the city. To draw first blood from the alien invaders. Every member of the company was prepared to fight, to the death if they had to, just like every other Militiaman on the planet.
B Company was armed like every other militia unit in the Systems Alliance. They didn't have power armor like the Marines, or high end infantry combat armor like the Army. They didn't have Fusion Guns or Pulse Rifles. They didn't have Exoskeletons for fire support, or integrated combat drones. Militia units were lightly armed, most troopers trained to fight with the standard 7mm gauss rifle with a 20mm gauss grenade launcher. Companies had Gatling gauss cannons in 7mm, along with Gatling Lasers for fire support. They had anti-armor missiles with shoulder launchers, and electromag-mortars for indirect support. They had combat armor, ballistic ceramite armor plating over durable mesh body armor. Sealed combat helmets with filters, comms and multispectrum imaging. If any of these units had 'motorized' support, it was in the vein of civilian pickup trucks and sports utility vehicles that got a different paintjob to pull duty as transports. They weren't supposed to be used to fight…they were supposed to be there as a 'just in case' option, ready to hold positions and scare off raiders.
B Company had been surprised at their orders, but they had accepted their role hungrily. They knew the honor of getting to take the first actual shots at the Turians, and they were all eager for the chance. B Company's four platoons had been spread out to give a good defensive position along the multilane highway that led deep into the heart of Shanxi's Capital. It was almost a straight shot and only a fool would ignore it. There were roadblocks deeper along the route, but right outside the spaceport it was empty.
The B company snipers had watched a few small Turian patrols moving around the perimeter of the spaceport, and they'd seen the shuttles landing more and more troops and heavy equipment had been landed throughout the day. Though with the onset of night, the patrols and landing hadn't slackened off. If they feared the night, they weren't showing it. But B Company was ready to make their raid on the Turian positions. Captain Carmichael lay on the warehouse roof, a pair of micro binoculars held to his visor, watching the Turians guarding the main gates. He raised his gauntleted hand and gestured to the snipers. Carmichael looked down and saw the IFF indicators of his four platoons crouched along the dividing barrier on the roadway. The Turians were either dumb or blind…or expected the Systems Alliance to be stupid and just sit back and hide.
The Captain looked at the main gate and knew the plan was pretty simple, and for the most part, pure flash. One company wouldn't make much of an impact, but a raid…Carmichael smiled behind his faceplate, it would be something. The Captain lowered his binoculars and shouldered his bullpup Gauss rifle. On reflex, he ejected the 30 round mag and checked, then clicked it back into place, rewarded with the soft tone of a charged and loaded weapon. Captain Carmichael smiled softly, he hadn't seen any kind of image enhancers on the Turians. The Systems Alliance liked to fight at night because of the technological edge they enjoyed. Sensors and other gear turned night to day. The Militia Captain looked up slightly…something whistled by overhead, low.
He felt the shudder rumble along the ground and vibrate the building like it was made of plywood. He glanced back and saw explosions ripping through the dark city far behind him. Only his training kept him from sitting up for a better look. The Turians had begun bombing. Fireballs and explosions ripped through what Carmichael knew had to be empty structures, but the Turians probably didn't know that. The officer swore softly to himself. These bastards really didn't care about the possible civilians in the combat zone, did they? Carmichael shuddered, he didn't want to think what would happen if any of his soldiers were captured. He'd heard the stories from human history about what some victorious armies had done to their prisoners. The Militia officer shook his head and turned back to the battle. He had to consider his engagement, not the air strikes being carried out behind him.
"This is Knight, take, take, take." Carmichael said over his comm, it was the first message, but it gave the starting point for the entire exercise. As he watched, his Company sprung into action. The heavy weapons platoon went at his mark. Both of his Gatling Lasers opened up from an opposite building, stitching coherent light across the main gate to the spaceport. The Captain was rewarded with Turians dropping, some cut in half, others taking cover behind erected barricades and sandbags. They began to return fire towards the laser emplacements, seeing the refracted beams striking dust and air particles, making the invisible beams visible. It was a universal 'SHOOT ME' arrow, but his laser gunners kept laying down fire. The four multipurpose launchers were the next to fire. Four high explosive rounds sliced across the street. Propelled by shoulder fired light gauss cannons, they sent a 30mm projectile flying through space at a fantastic velocity. Capable of firing Anti-Tank, Anti-Personnel, Anti-Structure, or multipurpose rounds, they were one of a Militia Companies' major striking weapons. The explosive warheads detonated perfectly against the barricades, ripping them apart and sending Turian bodies, and parts of bodies, flying. The rest of the company rose from their hiding places and dashed towards the main entrance, platoons fanning out into squads as they headed into the spaceport, hell bent on causing as much havoc as they could. As Carmichael watched with his binoculars, he brought up the tactical map in his helmet and watched his squads and platoons moving perfectly.
Weapons flashes began in earnest as the human militia made contact with the Turian regulars. Small fire teams and squads began to dig in and fight to keep the humans from delving deeper into the spaceport. Some were simply overrun before they could manage much in the way of resistance, others were harder to dig out. For those the other major muscle of his company came into play. A pair of electro-mag mortars. In essence, a rail gun like the small arms and support weapons of the company, but not nearly as powerful. Its purpose was to lob projectiles into the air…a simple concept to be sure, but these projectiles were 80mm laser guided smart rounds. Not a 'dumb' mortar shell. Every soldier in the company had a tactical link in the unit, and each one's helmet had a laser designator. The combination of positioning systems and designator meant that the electro-mag mortars could loft their shell into a precise location for the built in guidance systems to take over.
Behind the warehouse, Captain Carmichael heard the distinctive screech of mortar fire as rounds began to loft into the air in response to soldiers calling for fire support. Regular Army mortars were automatic weapons more or less, mounted in vehicles and fed from magazines. The lighter man portable versions were limited to the speed at which the three man crews could drop shells into them. And right now, that was pretty damn fast, a round would barely clear the tube before the loader would drop another into the muzzle to fire.
Carmichael looked at the battle and watched as the thermobaric explosions incinerated Turian positions. Other rounds landed on makeshift bunkers and the smart warheads waited to detonate after penetrating the overhead cover. It was incredibly violent, and horrifying in the abstract. B Company had a tremendous amount of firepower, all of it capable of being placed wherever the individual soldier needed it. Combined with their discipline and training, it was a beautiful portrayal of the soldiers art. First platoon was furthest in, reaching the flight line and firing grenades and gauss cannon rounds into the assembled supplies that the Turians had been unloading. More and more aliens were marshalling to the defense, aided by light armor and APCs. Second platoon was heavily engaged, their gauss cannons firing rapidly, and their gauss Gattlings leaving glowing streams of tracer rounds sweeping over the Turian armor and troops. Carmichael gave the command to his two mortars and had their fire concentrate for Second Platoon. Another minute and he'd have them fall back.
"Hostile Air!" Came the cry over the company net. Carmichael cursed as he moved for cover as fast as he could, rising from the roof and running for the stairwell down. He regretted abandoning the overlook position, but getting killed wasn't the best thing a Captain can do. As he dove for the stairwell, he saw the alien shapes of the turian fighters swooping low over the spaceport. Their gauss weapons were blazing, tearing up the tarmac as they strafed second platoon and first. None of them were dropping ordinance yet though, they seemed to be interceptors, not ground attack birds.
"All units withdraw!" Carmichael commanded, gazing out the roof door, the tide of the battle was turning, slowly. The massed firepower that the Turians had brought to bear against second was beginning to show. Tanks and APCs were pumping heavy fire into the spread out platoon, and one of their gattling gauss guns was down. The Captain cursed, casualties were mounting. In the heads up display, he made a few adjustments and sent out the revised orders. Third Platoon wasn't bloodied, they'd faced light resistance. He watched Third move fluidly from it's flank to cover Second platoon. The beleaguered unit fell back in good order, and the Turians advanced into the storm of fire. It was a sight to see…even with firestorms of high explosive carpeting their position, even in the face of a wave of gauss fire, the Turian troops advanced in good order, firing steadily, and exacting their toll on the raiding company.
First platoon withdrew as fast as they could, dropping small anti personnel and anti vehicle minds in their wake that would force the Turians to sweep the area clear before using it. Second and Third drew back slowly as the Turian troops leapt forward. Two squads were already KIA in the skirmish, and more soldiers were dying. But there were Turians going down fast as well. They didn't falter, but more and more of them were dropping, and more replaced the casualties. Carmichael watched discreetly, and gave the order for his support units to prepare to withdrawal as the platoons reached the main entrance to the Spaceport. The fire from the mortars and gattling lasers abated and the platoons fell back into the alleys and warehouses. The Turians didn't follow their human attackers, instead content to rebuild the main defenses and carry their dead off the battlefield. It was a bloody battle for B Company, but they did prove without a doubt that the Turians weren't invulnerable.
As Carmichael ran through the alleys with what remained of his company, he worried about the cost of defeating the Turians, but he knew that it could be done.
Admiral Varkus took the reports in with a brittle calm. It was aggravating that these Humans had attacked, once more while he was working to marshal his units properly. They had struck twice now, both times causing damage to his plans and forcing him to modify his tactics. He was beginning to suspect that despite the fact that he was preparing the assault on the humans, they were the ones who held the initiative. Such a situation was not good, not in the slightest. The initiative was something that soldiers could feel in their very hearts. It was a feeling, that feeling of things being wrong while the other side felt that things were going their way. For Admiral Varkus, it was the sense that the Hierarchy might have embarked on an excursion that was going to be far more involved than they'd hoped.
Varkus chastised himself silently for the thought. He was a Turian, and an Admiral, he would lead his forces to victory.
"Begin landing further forces, I want the surrounding areas swept clear of any human forces. I want ground forces to begin advancing on the heart of the human settlement, and I want the bombing campaign increased. Complete suppression strikes along the route of advance." Admiral Varkus ordered simply. It wasn't in accordance with doctrine, but they had to advance. The standard messages had also been broadcast, ordering any civilians to move out of the city to internment camps for their own safety. They wouldn't have to worry about that at least. Anyone that remained in place would be considered an enemy combatant and shot on sight.
"Yes Admiral." His XO responded and relayed the orders.
Amid the fleet, fighters and bombers descended from the ships and formed up. They'd all been given their briefings on their targets, for the most part structures that looked like they would be transportation hubs or had the possibility of hiding large concentrations of supplies. For the moment though, the Humans hadn't sent any kind of fighters or air defenses to contest the Fleet's command of the skies above them. It made Varkus wonder if the Humans were capable of making any kind of token resistance in the air. But he bit off the thought. It was better to think that his adversary was biding his time and husbanding his resources…but for what? Varkus flared his mandibles in a scowl and leaned down on the edge of the map display. The veteran Admiral watched silently as his fighters escalated their bombing campaign. Turn around times would have been better with bases in atmosphere, but he didn't think it prudent to put his squadrons groundside just yet.
Williams nodded slowly as he looked at the rotating hologram that displayed Shanxi's capital, and the hundreds of images representing Turian strike craft dropping through the atmosphere. He wasn't concerned about the degree of damage that they'd cause. One thing that had been proven throughout history was that a city was a hell of a place to try and fight in. The Turian edge in air superiority was something to be concerned about, but it wouldn't shatter his positions like his opponent thought it would. Thankfully the majority of the civilians had been moved underground for their own safety. Unfortunately, they were trapped in the capital. Williams wasn't going to let anyone be herded into a Turian concentration camp. The broadcasts had said they'd be safer there than in the combat zone, but that wasn't true, was it? Williams had no doubt that the Turians wouldn't be running a five star motel to keep the civilians safe. His mind shook off the thought that the aliens might just be running extermination camps. Whatever the answer was, he wasn't about to let them get a hold of the innocents his forces were protecting.
Williams focused in on the hologram again and watched the strike fighters begin to drop their loads of ordinance, mostly along the main highway leading from the spaceport, but others were dropping deep inside the perimeter. It didn't take much to realize that the Turians were striking at what they thought were supply caches. Williams sighed, it was a lot of wasted effort, he'd had his forces deploy their supplies and distribute them as much as possible to avoid giving the Turians a juicy target. But the Turians were dropping a lot of ordinance…and for the most part, bombing operations weren't always perfect…
"General, Chin Hospital was just struck by Turian fighters. They hit it with high explosives and incendiary ordinance. The building's on fire and collapsing sir." The announcement was calm, extremely calm, considering that the hospital was still occupied, by civilians. It had been too much to hope that the prominent markings on the structure, a red cross on white background, would have been understood…apparently the Turians had thought them good targets. Williams raised his hand and rubbed his eyes. Those types of casualties were unavoidable, but civilian losses weren't easy to take.
"Move in forces to rescue who they can. No response from our surface to air assets though." Williams said gravely.
"Sir! They just bombed a hospital with almost two thousand people inside." Came an indignant response. The comms officer was looking up, shocked at the General's dismissal of the attack, but she wilted and looked down as General Williams looked at her, the expression on his face one of sadness, but also steel.
"I know that lieutenant, but we are defending a city of several million civilians, and we need those air defense batteries for when things really start to get bad. I won't sacrifice those gun crews needlessly trying to get revenge for an indiscriminate bombing campaign." He said, calmly, but his eyes flared slightly as he spoke. Deep down, General Williams wanted to lash out, to swat the Turian fighters from the sky, and to over run the spaceport, unfortunately he knew better than that. The spaceport kept the Turians in a location that he could monitor, and if he used his anti-air units…they'd be picked off by Turian fighters…or they might even use their orbital assets on the planet. Williams was under no illusions about what that might mean. His forces would get slaughtered if they were targeted by orbital bombardment.
"Yes…sir…" The Lieutenant said quietly. It was clear the young officer didn't like the thought of letting that attack go un-answered, but the General was right, they needed to focus on the big picture. As an officer once said…difficult decisions are the privilege of rank.
"General, they're moving." Williams looked back to the hologram. The Turians were indeed moving at last.
"Good."
Lilih marched alongside his APC, eyes sharp and looking around for anything. He still had a cough from that damned explosion, and the medics had said it was nothing, but he didn't like it…just like he didn't like getting picked to start clearing structures and making the advance at the crack of dawn. Like any soldier, Lilih could grumble with the best of them…and for the most part, his comrades were grumbling about the same things. It had been pretty hellish, fighting the humans for the first time on the ground had been a nasty shock, but that raid three days ago had lit a fire under somebody's backside. They were moving out with whatever they could find, under heavy air cover and with armor. The unit had no hesitation over using the firepower that they had available. Gunships hummed overhead as the bulk of tanks and APCs rumbled down the thoroughfare amidst soldiers in lose formation. Most of them had started to get weary of the advance. After that bloody raid that seemed to have a massive amount of firepower behind it, the humans had run and hid.
Most of the troops were starting to think that the humans were one shot wonders. They'd made their raid, they'd set their trap, and run and hid…all of them had apparently. The units hadn't run into anything so far, no soldiers, nothing. Not even a sniper round so far. That was making a lot of the officers and NCO's nervous. Nobody ran away that fast…and no one abandoned their home like that. Something had to be coming. They'd advanced far from the spaceport.
"We got something ahead of us. First squad, check it out." Came the shouted order. Lilih trotted forward with his unit and broke into a pair of fire teams, advancing up the street in bounds, each one covering the other. All of it was by the book, as it should be. Lilih spotted what the obstruction was. Some kind of four wheeled ground vehicle, parked across two lanes of the four lane route. The veteran soldier's eyes narrowed. This was suspicious, there wasn't a single obstruction in the road before this, and right now…here's one.
"I got a bad feeling sarge…" One of the squad murmured over the audio circuit.
"Cut the chatter." Was the curt response, but the unit could tell that their Sergeant felt it too. Something was wrong, and if felt even more wrong as Lilih's fire team moved up to the craft and looked at it. It was completely abandoned, and every fiber of Lilih's being said that something was going to happen…something bad…something very bad… His head darted around, trying to look in every direction at once, looking at the low three and four story buildings, trying to spot where the fire was going to come from. It had to be now, the humans were going to do something…now…now…
"…now…" He murmured softly as he looked around, his weapon held tightly in his hands. His combat partner glanced at him curiously and patted him on the shoulder pauldron.
"Easy buddy, calm down." Nazac said softly. He was young, but not immature…and at times possessed of the rare ability to think rationally and know when you had to calm down your team instead of keeping them on edge. He smiled slightly and was satisfied when Lilih took a deep breath and nodded. The older soldier realized that he might have been a bit keyed up.
"Alright, let's push this thing off the road. It should roll." The Sergeant said, placing a hand on the back of the craft and making it shift slightly. The fire team took the hint and began pushing it, rolling the thing clear of the road so that the armor and APC's could advance. The Sarge gestured and the column began moving again.
"Look sharp, we're still on point." The Sergeant said and his voice betrayed the nervousness in it. They were pretty far from the unit, and on their own for the most part if they found trouble. Nobody liked being on point, but you had to have someone do it. Of course, it tended to be hard on the 'someone' who was doing it. Lilih and Nazac glanced at each other, sharing their own glance before they started moving. The unit kept up it's tense leapfrog motions, Lilih and Nazac falling in with their fire team. Lilih kept casting glances back towards the column, his mandibles twitching nervously. Despite the nerves, he kept in formation, weapon sweeping around, trying to keep an eye in every direction at once. It was hard not to, the city had a menacing feel to it…it wasn't empty, everyone knew that it wasn't empty. The humans were here somewhere, waiting. Watching, and waiting.
Fifty yards behind them, the column rolled on, muzzles of every weapon in the unit pointed out, waiting for the ambush. From the commander of the column, standing head and shoulders out of his command track, to the troopers marching along the sides, they were tense. Tense enough that none of them seemed to think much of the vehicle that the point team had pushed out of the way. One or two troopers looked at it idly, but didn't pay much mind to it. If the thing had been ambushed, then it would have blown when the team rolled it to one side. There were a few shrugs as the troops moved by it, the tanks and APCs passing quite close to it.
As the column commander held his hand up to the side of his helmet to give a status report, the vehicle exploded spectacularly. It would have been more spectacular to the commander if his track hadn't been next to it the moment the ground vehicle went off. The command detonated charge molded into the frame of the vehicle hadn't given the point team any kind of reason to be suspicious. It had looked like an abandoned vehicle, completely empty. But the five thousand pounds of high explosives had been cleverly concealed. It had waited for the column to pass by, waiting until the maximum damage could be achieved. The column commander didn't know any of that though. Even though the APC's kinetic barriers had done a good job of halting the razor fragments of shrapnel that had been sent flying, the sheer force of the explosion two foot from the hull had slammed the vehicle like the hammer of Thor. The vehicle was warped like it had been made of tin-foil, and pitched onto it's top…crushing the commander between the road surface and the turret.
Dozens of weapons opened fire on the horribly exposed Turian infantry and vehicle crews. Gauss cannon rounds lanced out and slammed into kinetic barriers, then into armor plate, reducing APC's and Tanks to scrap. But like Turians, they didn't blink, the crews brought their weapons to bear and opened fire into buildings, pumping gauss fire into store fronts and apartment buildings. Small arms fire joined the tumult, the entire unit bringing forth as much fire as possible against the Human ambush. Far ahead, the point team fell back at a run, consolidating with their unit and joining the fray. It was a bloody mess. Bodies and pieces of bodies lay sprawled on the street amid blood and gore, buildings on either side of the column exploded in rubble…and then the whistle of fighters streaking low over the engagement cut over the racket. Close air support streaked in, sending soldiers diving behind cover when the heavy fire and explosives ripped through the buildings hiding human forces. It was a bloody mess. But despite the fire being leveled against the humans, they didn't break. In fact, more and more weapons were being brought to bare against the column.
"This is no ambush!" Lilih screamed over the sounds of combat, his rifle at his shoulder and firing long bursts into the ruined building barely twenty feet from their defensive position next to the smoking ruin of what had been a main battle tank. Nazac only nodded, firing his own weapon just as rapidly and sending a hail of projectiles ripping into the façade. Over the com Lilih heard the screech of warning that air support was coming in, and both of them ducked to the ground. The rumble of the gunship that came to hover over their heads vibrated their very bones…not that you noticed the rumble when it unleashed a volley of rockets into the structure they'd been shooting at. Even before the dust settled, Lilih heard the voice of his sergeant, ordering the squad up and into the building. Obeying the order without hesitation, Lilih rose up, firing into the dust. Somehow, the humans were still shooting back, which was proven when one of the squad took a heavy round to the chest and went down in the street.
The squad dropped into the rubble, weapons tracking through the thick dust as it settled. Their firing didn't slacken, trying to suppress the humans who seemed to keep firing. Lilih looked up and saw the muzzle flashes from something that might have been a room, but was now a ledge. Without hesitating, he pulled a grenade from his pouch and tossed it up into the Human position. The shark crack of the detonation was followed by a scream that was loud enough to cut over the sound of battle. Motioning, Nazac and the rest of the fire team stormed up the stairway and into the fighting position.
At one time, it had held what looked like five humans. Four of them had died in ways that could have only been described as gruesome, while the fifth member of their unit had kept firing determinedly. Even now, the human was lying there, missing a leg and with it's armor damaged from the grenade that Lilih had thrown. It was lying on it's back, rifle a few feet away from it's outstretched hand. The human looked up, the faceplate of it's armor hiding the expression, but the demeanor of this wounded alien showed it's feelings as clearly as a sunrise. Hate…pure and complete hate. Hate enough that the human didn't raise it's hands in surrender…instead it reached onto it's bandolier and pulled a cylinder. Lilih had seen that before, and raised his weapon, emptying a further twenty rounds to the human before it could prime it's grenade.
"They're…determined…" One of the team said quietly, the unit standing there and looking at the body. None of them had seen a human before.
"Let's move! This is no ambush!" The Sergeant ordered over the comm. Lilih and his team moved back, realizing that they'd finally found the human front line. Glancing out at the column, they could see the armor pushing past the ruined vehicles…even crushing dead soldiers as they pushed forward. The troopers understood that they needed to get as much firepower forward as possible, but none of them liked the thought that their friends were getting smashed. They didn't have long to think about it however, the tank in question exploded in flames as it was struck by a human anti-armor weapon. Diving for cover in the rubble, Lilih raised his head, looking for where the round had come from.
"DOWN!" Came a scream from somewhere to his right. Lilih couldn't place the voice, but he ducked his head behind the rubble and grabbed his helmet as best he could. Some kind of gauss weapon stitched over the rubble covering his head. He tried to press himself down as far as he could…and even though he couldn't really feel it, he would have sworn that rounds were flying over his back. As he ducked lower, the sweeping stream of fire moved onto other targets. The squad started spraying fire, most of it aimed at the second floor room where the stream of tracers were coming from. The fire team's grenadier raised his weapon and fired an explosive round off, but unfortunately missed, the round detonating against the wall next to the window. The gunners shifted their fire and before the team grenadier could duck behind cover a line of gauss rounds sliced his left arm and head from his body.
"Cover fire! Draw that gunner off!" The Sergeant hollered, firing at the window, and drawing the ire of the gun-crew. The position shifted again, tracers flying over the rubble covering the Turian squad. They ducked and Lilih saw just why they were drawing fire. Another squad was rushing across the street to try and assault the building. Lilih cheered them as he fired blindly at the window the humans were held up in…hoping that they got there before…
But his hopes were dashed when the humans shifted their fire and the gauss weapon cut over the ten soldiers running in the open. None survived, most of them receiving the same fate as his squad's grenadier. Bodies tumbling to the ground and spewing blood over the white road surface. Lilih blinked at the screaming that he was hearing, it took him a moment to realize that it was his own voice screaming in rage. These humans were slaughtering good soldiers. He watched as the human gunner played the fire over the bodies, one of the Turians tried to crawl away when he was chopped to ribbons by the gunner. Lilih made a snap decision and rose up from where he was taking shelter.
"Cover me!" He screamed, and before his sergeant could stop him he was up and running across the street. The unit was firing behind him, and Lilih ran like he hadn't run since basic training. His legs pumping hard against the ground, boots slapping against the surface. Smoothly, he vaulted over the road divider, and his free hand grabbed a grenade while his left held up his rifle, firing wildly. Lilih ran a handful of paces more and hurled the grenade into the window. His momentum carried him into a dive, having him land against the windows on the first floor. Above him, the window exploded outwards, silencing the position. Warily, Lilih rose up, weapon aimed upwards for a few moments, then he ran back to his squad.
"Let's move!" His sergeant called, slamming his fist into Lilih's chest plate. The veteran trooper was sure that it was a combination of both anger at his initiative, but respect for his daring. His squad nodded from where they lay, but there wasn't much time for praise in his actions. Somewhere behind them, an explosion echoed and sent rubble tumbling from the ruins they were covered in. In front of them, the tanks were rolling again, though this time the crews were buttoned up, and the APCs had their weapons hatches open, soldiers inside pointing their weapons outwards. Lilih looked up as a gunship swooped low over their heads. He smiled and raised his fist, only to see the craft slapped from the sky by a human anti aircraft weapon. Lilih sighed and shook off some of the dust from the rubble, these humans weren't Batarians. Not by a long shot.
To give punctuation to his words, more weapons fire lashed their position.
In his command bunker, General Williams watched the progress of the Turian invaders as they made contact with the defense lines. The Militia were holding their lines admirably in the face if a determined assault. The Turians were using combined arms warfare admirably, their armor and air power was smashing the targets that their infantry was coming into contact with. But the versatility of the Militia's weapons was enough to make the Turians either sacrifice a lot of tanks and gunships or to pull them back. Either way it was taking a toll on the attackers. Though apparently the Turian commanders were ready to sacrifice lives to advance…and that was something that most commanders had to do to win battles, no matter how distasteful tit was.
Williams knew that his men were slowly falling back, from the first prepared defense line to the next. His orders had been clear, cause as many casualties as possible but fall back, keep the line flexible and don't let the massed Turian forces smash it. He had reserves prepared to counter attack, but that wouldn't be happening just yet. General Williams was prudent enough to know that the greatest edge he had would be the Turian commander's own arrogance, and his own misconception. But for now, things were going well. Very well.
Admiral Varkus scowled, his fist balled and slamming down on the edge of his map table. The Humans were far more tenacious than he'd given them credit to be. They were causing enough casualties to force him to move up the limited reinforcements that he possessed on planet. There were more forces moving groundside according to the plan, but he'd made the advance with less forces than he'd wished. He was regretting it now. For a moment, Varkus wondered absently whether the Human had manipulated him into attacking before he was prepared, but dismissed the thought. The human hadn't been smart enough for that, could he? No…Varkus shook his head, too many frustrations at the moment. He wasn't thinking clearly enough. He sighed softly and looked at the battlefield.
His formations were pushing hard against the humans, and they were moving in good order though, he hadn't smashed their lines yet…and the city was negating the advantage in firepower enjoyed by his ground units. Not to mention that his forward air support units and gunships were taking horrendous losses from human support weapons…that was another thing that he hadn't anticipated. Fleet assets like that weren't something that he had in abundance. But if he kept up this kind of battle of attrition, he ran the risk of running out of fighters before the enemy ran out of weapons.
But he had other options…
The Citadel wasn't aware of this engagement…and victory was a matter of significant importance to the Hierarchy…
"XO, prepare the Borsta for planetary fire support." Varkus ordered. His XO looked at him in surprise, but didn't question the order. Use of Mass Accelerator weapons against Garden worlds was forbidden by the Council, but what they didn't know about wouldn't hurt them.
A/N: The Battle of Shanxi, part one. Hope you enjoyed.