AN: Hello to all my fans new and old, I hope you had a merry Christmas and I hope you all have a happy New Year, I have a few bits of admin before this chapter gets underway.
This chapter was due to release on Christmas day as a bit of a gift from me to you, but I don't know what the hell happened but drunk me went dark, I mean real dark, what the hell was put in my whisky I have no idea so I had to scrap around half of this chapter, rewrite the bloody thing and publish it two days late.
Man am I glad I dodged the bullet and didn't publish it whilst I was drunk.
Next, I do read every review you guys write, please don't think I'm ignoring you by not replying to your messages and critisims, I just hate dumping huge chunks of information in these AN's, so please continue to send me your love and or hate my fic, I can't improve my writing without you lot bludgeoning it through my skull.
Thank you all for your continued support.
Now on with the show.
November 30th 2207 EMC [Earth Military Calendar] 2151 CE [Common Era].
Turian Frontier Space, Agamemnon System.
SSV Lion R-106, Combat Information Centre.
[Play: Sabaton: To Hell and Back.]
Gripping the war table hard as the Lion took multiple Dreadnought grade mass accelerator rounds directly into the bow Ka'mara took stock of the situation, there was barely an hour to go until the reserve fleets arrived in system, luckily Liam's strategy to use Battle-Wagons with Blue-Steel micro disruptor torpedoes to saturate the Eezo repulsors suspending the shield walls the Batarian capital ships were banking on to protect them from direct assault had worked.
The cost, fifty four of Lion's Red, Blue, White and Silver squadrons would not be making the trip home they had valiantly sacrificed themselves to guarantee that the six Battle-Wagons made it to their objective.
Ka'mara remembered that she had once had a conversation about the Systems Alliance Navy's view on self-sacrifice in times of war in Liam's quarters over a shared meal during their journey to Hierarchy space. "It's the duty of the Senior officers in the Systems Alliance to spend Human lives, rather than waste them, death is a fact of war something we simply cannot avoid, if it comes to it, I'll spend the lives of my crew and myself to make sure our objectives are accomplished."
It had been a sobering moment to say the least, Humans weren't war mongers but they knew full well what the price of war was and the Systems Alliance wouldn't shy away from the 'Human Cost' they would however make the enemy pay their toll in blood.
"Sir! That last salvo ripped main batteries Alpha-one and Alpha-three clean off the bow, the automated blast doors have sealed the Barbettes, we're estimating that one hundred and twenty crewmen are MIA presumed KIA."
Though Ka'mara still struggled at times to recognise human micro-expressions, she knew rage, very rarely did Liam take anything personally, insulting someone you knew was in Liam's DNA, being of British ancestry, but making him spend his crews lives was one way to end up as public enemy number one.
"Bastards have realised that if they can't break through our armour, they may as well try to pick apart our offensive capability to make us less of a threat. Helm begin a Keyhole Manoeuvre; I'm not having more of our Batteries picked off." Liam ordered.
Ka'mara quickly picking up her wireless made a quick announcement over the ship wide PA system. "All hands, all hands brace for combat manoeuvre's." Ka'mara placed her wireless back onto its base.
Looking back towards the war table, Ka'mara could easily determine how well the rest of the fleet was coping by their positioning on the system map, they were holding albeit barely, utilising the crippled warships as impromptu defence grid satellites had bolstered the overall defence just enough for the fleet to hold at its weakest points.
That's when all hell broke loose, the Lion was rocked by a massive explosion, causing multiple injuries among the CIC crew. "Damage Report!" she barked out on instinct. "Best estimate ma'am we just took a disruptor torpedo, still trying to work out where it fucking hit us."
"Fires have broken out in the underside magazine, we've lost one of the reserve water-tanks, bulkheads have been warped out of shape and are failing to seal, emergency bulkheads are sealing at the next best possible frame."
The CIC broke out into a hive of activity for the next thirty seconds, as the crew in the CIC re-organised the first and second responders. "Damage Response Teams reporting in the fires in the lower magazine have been brought under control, more than a few of the crew are in critical condition."
November 30th 2151 CE [Common Era] 2207 EMC [Earth Military Calendar].
Turian Frontier Space, Agamemnon System.
Turian Sixth Fleet, HNV Spirit of Palaven.
Command and Control Centre.
"Admiral the SSV Lion has taken damage, I have confirmation that the Blast is consistent with a high yield Disruptor Mine." Gavilan Nyx was shocked to say the least, just how in the spirits had every sensor in the fleet missed a spirit's damned Disruptor Mine, unless.
"Sensors, adjust passive sensors to Salarian STG supplied frequencies, I have a feeling I know what we're dealing with." Gavilan ordered, his subordinates following their orders without question, the tactical display in the centre of the C3 updated with 99 additional contacts in close proximity to the fleet.
"Order all vessels to change their passive sensors to the STG frequencies now! Communications distribute the frequency to the SSV Lion immediately, I doubt Captain Spruce will appreciate the fact we're keeping him blind."
"Aye sir." The entire crew responded. "Tactical, mark STG assets as hostile I want our lasers shooting those mines out of our space now!"
The space around lit up with crimson streaks as the fleets entire Guardian array opened fire on the approaching stealth mines, while the SSV Lion's AF/AM batteries unleashed their golden tracer fury on the mines slowly drifting into its personal space, no doubtedly some poor officer in the Batarian Fleet was going to be shot for his or her incompetence.
But the biggest question remained, just where the hell did the Batarian Hegemony get Special Tasks Group Stealth Mines? It was a question Gavilan Nyx wanted answers to, but his first priority was to secure Agamemnon from future Batarian assault.
"How long until reinforcements arrive in system?" Gavilan asked his Executive Officer. "Both fleets are on station in the Valkyr System, they're discharging their heat sinks fully, they're estimating that they'll be arriving in system in twenty minutes."
"Excellent, inform the rest of the fleet, we're finishing these animals here and now, all vessels are to fire double time."
With the Combined Hierarchy fleet alongside the SSV Lion which continued to spin in a clockwise aileron roll doubling their main battery fire the Batarian fleet's frontline was caught between a hammer and anvil, their own capital ships preventing them from repositioning to better avoid the onslaught that had been unleashed upon them.
Several frigates detonated into blue green fireballs as their fuel and munitions detonated rather violently after their shields failed to compensate against the increased volume of firepower.
The Lion was quickly on her way to earning her two hundredth and fiftieth kill, which was an absolute achievement to say the least, only the top five percent of the Systems Alliance warships ever reached a comparable kill ratio.
Challenger Main Battle Tank "Horseman of War"
Agamemnon's Capital City, Police Department Headquarters.
Front Plaza.
[Play: Andrew W.K.: Ready to Die.]
While the defence of Agamemnon's orbit was all but certain, the ground war on Agamemnon's surface was still in a state of flux, even with the Lion's Marine Corps giving it their all there were still low thousands of hostiles still entrenched within the capital city's outskirts and key structural chokepoints.
Captain John MacTavish, watched as another 88mm shoulder mounted rocket struck the front turret armour of one of his squadrons Challenger MBT's, Each of the four vehicles named after one of the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
"Third story, multi-story car park, Infantry with RPG. Load HESH." MacTavish called out over the tanks personal comms. "Sighted." His gunner barked.
"Loaded." War's loader barked as he set the safety shield in place allowing the 140mm main gun to fire. "Up!" Wars gunner barked, as the 140mm main cannon recoiled to the back of the turret, a massive fireball erupted from the muzzle as a 140mm plastic explosive warhead squashed against the hostiles cover.
Followed shortly by the delayed fuse explosion which annihilated everything in a 15 metre radius with shrapnel guaranteed to kill any poor bastard stuck in a thirty metre radius. "Almost feel sorry for the poor bastards, sir." War's driver piped up from the lower hull from his reclined position.
"Don't weep for the stupid trooper, you'll be crying all fucking day." MacTavish retorted, as he manipulated the controls for his independent sight. "Famine, three runners with AT on your three o'clock."
"Copy." Echoed through his earpiece before Famine's Co-Axial thirty calibre machine gun fired in six, six round bursts, all three hostiles were cut down like wheat to a scythe. "Fucking idiots." MacTavish muttered, watching as the Turian CCPD with aid from the Turian Garrison re-armed themselves with military grade rifles and sidearms.
The police head quarters had been highly contested as of late, it's structure was something akin to a fortress overlooking six of the major routes throughout the city, unfortunately for the slaver or pirate bastards, they'd failed to shoot down a single pelican carrying any one of the 'Four Horsemen' which was coming to bite them in the ass something fierce.
One thing MacTavish did have to respect about the hostile forces they were fucking tenacious sons of bitches, only pulling back to try and goad any of the defenders into one of their prepared kill zones.
"Any news on the main objectives?" War's loader piped up as he busied himself with the tanks 'Bivvy' or BV a boiling vessel in which hot food and drinks could be prepared within minutes. "I've not heard too much but all of the Primary and Secondary landing zones have been held with reinforcements pushing the advantage."
"Fucking hell, I reckon once these bastards get it through their thick skulls that they can't win, they'll surrender, we have orbital supremacy, their secondary fleet won't stand a chance once the Turian reinforcements rock up to kick ten bells of shit out of them." War's driver piped up from his reclined position.
"Until then we still have a job to do lads." MacTavish broke the levity. "Ooh-rah." The crew replied, the battle for Agamemnon after all wasn't well and truly in the bag just yet, multiple dozens of marine casualties could attest to that, as well as the two dozen or so who wouldn't be returning to their loved ones.
Not to mention god knows how many Turian civilian, civil and military casualties alongside that the dead would need to be tallied up, families would soon find that they had been torn asunder and god knows how many children had been killed and orphaned by the Hegemony.
Meanwhile at the Joint Command Centre, which had been established inside the Turian Garrison proper, General Katus Sulmius watched as his Human allies co-ordinated a strike in depth campaign, a very 'hands off' approach to waging war.
Unlike the Turian ridged regimental system, where the officers orders were final, unless another officer of equal to higher rank exercised their authority on the matter, to accomplish objectives, the human officers established objectives with one single order.
To win, it didn't matter how, if a private had an idea to break the enemies footholds through artillery or air support, that private got that support, if a marine unit needed armour support, armour support was there fighting well and truly in the thick of a battle.
It was a flexible and highly adaptive means of waging war, Officers still of course kept the overarching view on how the battle was progressing, but they left the immediate actions to a well trained and open to suggestions core of non-commissioned officers.
What they were accomplishing with nothing more than personal PADDS and a long range wireless radio was something to witness, just what in the spirits name caused a single species to develop warships as enduring as the one in orbit, required a diverse and decentralised headquarters, which could within minutes pack up and fully relocate to another position with little or no warning.
Admiral Gavilan's and Commodore Sidoia Acharius' reports that he'd barely had a chance to read, started to make a lot more sense when watching the Human's in action.
"Turian but not Turian indeed." Katus muttered to himself as he privately thought about how obvious that these humans had a military and naval tradition steeped in as much history as the Hierarchies own, something which Katus could respect, however their two species had developed two very different ideologies on how to wage war.
But unlike the Asari, Salarian's or any number of the client races in the galaxy, the Humans were complimenting the Garrison instead of being a hindrance to the Garrison, the best examples being positions which were under threat of collapsing to the enemy found themselves rapidly reinforced by multi wheeled infantry fighting vehicles, loaded with human marines they would strike hard, fast and without mercy before mounting back up to secure the next position at risk of collapse.
Katus twitched his mandibles in thought. 'Maybe, just maybe these humans are the species to get the councils collective ass to take action, instead of just reacting to dangers once the damage had been done.' Katus would be watching the political landscape with great interest in the coming years.
November 30th 2207 EMC [Earth Military Calendar] 2151 CE [Common Era].
Turian Frontier Space, Agamemnon System.
SSV Lion R-106, Combat Information Centre.
[Play: Iron Maiden: These Colours Don't Run.]
The two Turian reserve fleets had finally arrived, which was a relief, the second Bartarian Hegemony invasion fleet while only having one Dreadnought it easily had double the amount of cruisers, six of which at one point or another carried a solid shield utilising Eezo repulson technology to keep the thing suspended in front themselves to protect them and dozens upon dozens of invasion craft now found themselves at serious risk of being overwhelmed from multiple vectors, the bastards had decided that common sense was the best part of valour and started retreating at best possible speed.
Reports were still being organised the disruptor mine had ripped an 80 metre hole clean through the port side right underneath where the portside hanger pod would retract into, we were lucky in the fact that it had hit the water tanks, rather than the reserve fuel tanks a scant fifty odd metres aft from where the mine had struck, though the crew would have to suffer with one minute hasty showers until the damage to the water tank was repaired and enough water was filtered into it to replace the 100 tons of water that was lost in the blast, it was a damn sight better than the alternative.
What worried those in the know however was the fact that several frames in the area had been well and truly warped out of shape, meaning damage control and repair was going to be an absolute royal bitch to accomplish, not to mention the red hot shards that had been launched at speeds potentially point zero, zero one percent the speed of light clean through the underbelly magazines metre thick citadel Titanium armour causing a fire to break out, as far as anyone could figure thirty odd crew were MIA presumed KIA, until an official tally could be organised.
Luckily none of the Montressian observers were anywhere near considered a risk, that was a political shitstorm best avoided at all costs.
The loss of the two turrets alongside their entire crews came as a blow, a lot of good men and women were lost and would be missed their names and pictures would be left on the ships memorial wall, their personal affects would be placed into storage and would be returned to their next of kin specified in their wills.
But with the Agamemnon system well and truly back in the hands of the Turian Hierarchy, the Lion and her crew could get back to licking their wounds whilst focusing their entire effort in supporting the ground campaign, after all there was no rest for the wicked.
To be Continued….
AN: Thank you lot for putting up with me and my sheer british cheesiness, terrible music tastes and questionable drinking habbits, all joking aside, when I first started writing this fic, I had no direction, except to reach the main franchise and just manipulate bits and pieces, whilst not making Humanity the be all and end all of the Reaper threat.
So to better establish what rules and conventions there are I'll be writing up an Information Wiki so you lot can point out any issues with continuity and the like and hold me at pitchfork point to fix them.
Everything from profiles to schematics, diary entries to political shit talking, if you lot want to contribute to this fic in a direct manner I've made a discord channel.
please PM me if you are interested.