[Mark: 1.54.44.]
- Vanguard engaged at first objective. Contact lost with 61st Assault Company.
- Secondary deployments encountering minimal resistance, enemy cohesion faltering after destruction of alien flagship.
- [BDA - preliminary estimates of enemy casualties; 543,898 Xeno combatants slain.]
- [375thExpedition fleet casualty estimates – 15,241 fleet personnel KIA, 34,000+ injured "(Data attached.)]
- [XIth Legion reports- 36 dead, 88 combat ineffective.]
=::: Logicae Strategium deems loses… Acceptable;::=
+ Astropath Choirs report growing interference with long range communication. *Noted for further consideration, investigation postponed by command of Praetor Vaurion*
+ No situation report from The First Curse as of current Mark Will provide update at the end of next standard Terran day\\\\\\\
/:::::/
Thought for the day.
"There are no ifs my brothers. Never underestimate your enemy, or yourself." – attributed to Legion Master and First Diaconus Antinous, Eleventh Legion Astartes.
This was not a military base.
Everything was too neat, to pretty. There were minimum security checkpoints and no static defenses. The walls were not fit to hold off anything other than the elements, and every single one of them had already been shattered by stray gunfire from the melee that had just taken place on the front marble steps.
The Seventh company had swiftly smashed aside the robotic horde as they deployed from their drop pods. Wading through scrap and spilt hydraulic fluids piling beneath our boots, larger combat frames had emerged from the center of the formation much stronger and taller than their little cousins of metal yet fatally lacking in hand to hand skill as we quickly discovered.
Their weapons still took a toll, heavier patterns of laser weapons and shotguns that spat short range plasma blasts managed to land lucky shots and down legionnaires but it was too little too late.
The only real threat were the largest hulking Automatas, synthetic bipedal walkers similar to our own Castellax-class auxillaries. Taller than an Astartes by half, the same wedge design of the foot soldier's heads applied to their entire frame. Wreaths of energy wrapped around the powerclaws of their hands from which screamed blue bolts of plasma which we were not keen to learn how much damage could cause to even our armor.
I put my right claw through the red bars of one's photoreceptor eye up to the wrist, twisting the mono edged blades deep inside the wires of its guts. Severing the thick hose tendons of its short right arm with my left. Holding up the slowly dipping carcass as it lost power with sheer brute strength.
Until a well-aimed lascannon shot peeled open its hulk in a ball of fire.
The rumbling might of the Thirty Fourth company swept into the fray, heavy weapons knocking the automata down never to rise again with precision fire sailing over the heads of the Dawn Stalkers locked in combat. And so with their heavy support eliminated this fight was as good as over.
I slowly paced through the abandoned atrium of the orbital elevator as battle brothers swept through looking for more things to kill. It reminded me of the civilian transit stations of Luna. An idyllic place to lie to settlers and bureaucrats about what type of universe they were about to embark into.
Frescos carved into smooth polished black rocks along the walkways in the stunningly white building depicted the cut down history of the Ra'Chaal's space program. Motivating scenes to raise the spirits of those creatures that got to leave this rock for the stars beyond.
I ignored it all, the shadows of Ryder and Bruis joined my own as we neared the opposite end of the elevator base, where Captain Arminger should have been. A vox link snapped open in my ear, one of the squad leaders reporting.
"Captain, large enemy contact at the reflecting pool."
Dozens of the Xeno's arrowhead dropships were landing in the shallow water of the three kilometer mirror pool that when undisturbed would hold the image of the space elevator towering over head. But they were not landing troops,
They were picking up the survivors,
It made sense now, the synthetics had been sent to stall us while theses Xenos fled from our wrath. They had no intention of fighting for this place. Hundreds of their soldiers and the elevator staff splashed through the waters squeezing into tight crew compartments stumbling up the ramps that dropped down from the port, starboard, and rear ends of these crafts.
But we were not about to let them just fly away, brothers bearing rocket launchers were already lining up at the pristine bay windows lined with bracing black bars aiming their heavy weapons. We would at least be able to bring down a few of the fleeing craft.
I was about to give the command to let the missiles fly when Master Bruis raised up his power maul,
"Hold fire!" He shouted over an open channel.
"Master?" I asked the black armored Astartes.
Bruis pointed the weapon over to the east and the alien sun cresting over the buildings,
Pointing to the squads of assault marines scrambling over the flat rooftops.
Distance and roaring jump packs swallowed their battle cries when the tardy Sixty First leapt into the sky. One figure stuck out to me at the front of this pack, brandishing a power ax and combat shield. With the glowing light flickering off the Mark of the Vanguard on his chest.
A helmetless Captain Arminger.
The dropships began to rise into the sky detecting the approaching Astartes abandoning the Xeno's yet to reach them to their fate on the ground. But this desperate move was too late to save any of them Arminger wasn't targeting the stragglers, he was going straight for the dropships.
The Xeno's craft listed violently as suddenly thousands of kilograms of extra weight crashed down onto their hulls. Arminger landed behind a sloping glass canopy and smashed his ax down through the thick void sealed panes and into the pilot, the ship went blasting forward as the dying throes of the pilot sent it out of control. Marines landed on the other ships and hammered their weapons into vulnerable points sending up flares of fire and smoke hurling krak grenades and melta bombs at weapons ports and exhaust systems. One brave warrior hung down by one hand from the tail of Arminger's craft and let loose into the overcrowded hold with a hand flamer.
As the dying ships lost altitude the daring assault marines leapt to others yet untouched to bring the same fate down on them. A few of my men laughed pounding empty fists against their chests in salute to the sight before them.
But there was still work to be done, I opened the vox again, "Kill the rest."
Squads advanced down the white steps bolters blazing at the Xenos left behind and scrambling away from the wrecks, turning the pristine water into a purple soup of bloody shattered bones and armor. Dropships crashed down and exploded sending waves spilling out over the lips of the pool. Slowly the terrified screams of the soon to be dead were silenced. Assault marines floated down from the sky on top of their unorthodox kills, laughing to each other and waving their weapons threateningly at the single Xeno ship that managed to escape.
I made my way to the edge of the reflecting pool which rose up to my knees I saw Arminger weaving his way through the troops.
He owed me an explanation.
Arminger bowed when he came up to the edge of the water, "Commander."
But I was not about to let such a feat go unnoticed, "Well done John, your audacity knows no bounds."
"Thank you brother."
"I only wish it had carried you here sooner…"
Arminger bristled, I saw his teeth bared for half a second as he turned his head to the left. Revealing the blackened mess of the right side of his head behind that ear. That ear which was now missing.
"Apologies," The Assault captain rumbled his voice held no hint of regret only anger, "I was a little busy dodging beam cannons and hacking my way through these synthetics."
"You're my second, you need to remain in contact no matter how the battle goes."
"Well there's more than one bloody vox in the Sixty First Commander."
…That thought had not occurred to me,
"If you don't respond when summoned I am forced to make certain assumptions." I told him. "You may have put the entire campaign at risk."
"There's your problem Commander," He growled back, "Assuming."
Arminger was undoubtedly irked, he stepped out of the waters and came chest to chest with me. I refused to show intimidation, holding fast before the bigger warrior.
Betting on some form of reason staying his hand.
Arminger blinked first.
"Sergeant Vallo!" He called out, "Are you dead?!"
A metallic twisted voice call out from the wreckage behind us, "Not yet my lord."
Arminger shifted left, taking his power axe into his hand bound to his kite shaped combat shield, "Come then and make something of yourself!"
I did not recall the name Captain Arminger called out, after a heartbeat however it was clear who it belonged to. I recognized the unpainted shining grey armor of the fifteenth legion Sergeant Vallo was clad in having seen it earlier this morning, and on Captain Khonsu hours ago.
Vallo waded close flicking engine fluids from his chainsword's teeth before planting the tip on the bottom of the reflecting pool and going down to one knee. "It is an honor Commander Centermerius,"
I gave him a nod in response, before I could plie him with questions Arminger turned his charred head to me.
"Bruis told me of the psykers and why Vallo's here. But he has not yet made mention of any… Signs."
Having Captain Arminger in the loop made things much simpler, I spoke to the Sergeant and beckoned him to rise with a flick of my claws, "Tell me Legionnaire, has my second spoke truth?"
Arminger shifted uncomfortably at my request for confirmation, and my doubting him.
"Indeed my lord," Vallo said rising to his feet, "I have noted nothing that could not been seen with mundane eyes."
"Very well, yet if you do inform me immediately."
"Yes Commander."
There were often pauses in battle like this, little moments of tranquility in between the heart stopping jolts of violence and bloodshed when one could take a moment to stop and breathe readying for the next fight. They were not as jarring for we built for combat Astartes but we still noted when they happened. Seconds ticked by with we three standing there waiting for someone to break the uncomfortable silence.
"Well then," I finally began, "I believe the army is waiting for our signal."
Arminger huffed, "Not that they'd be so displeased to let us take all the glory, and the danger."
The vox in my helmet suddenly crackled to life.
"Skius! Respond immediately!"
Vaurion's tone commanded a hasty response, I did not recognize the sound in his voice suddenly blaring through my vox.
"Praetor? I hear you."
"Get your men to cover, now!" The Praetor ordered. "They've launched another object."
I flicked my lightning claw back to the elevator steps, signaling fall back in battle sign. The Sixty First lit their jetpacks and flew overhead for the rest of the vanguard. Arminger broke into a run at my side, with Sergeants Vallo and Ryder behind keeping pace with Master Bruis and his shield bearer acolytes.
"Is it another drop pod?" I asked, if so I questioned Vaurion's command. Why this response contacting me directly for only a single pod.
Vaurion spoke again, almost in a whisper, "Skius, its approach is ballistic."
Ballistic, out of control, not meant to land.
The velocity of a missile.
This was a trap.
I opened my vox projector's as loud as I could, "Run, double time!"
The weapon was coming down, I felt the skin on the back of my neck begin to crawl, hearing the distant thundering rumble of the sound barrier breaking before it. Our command group managed to pound up into the gutted elevator complex but deep inside my heart I knew it would not be enough. If that missile was packing an atomic payload there was no way we could get far enough away fast enough. We should have foreseen such a strike coming, we had forced these animals into a corner and they must have sensed their impending extinction and resorted to the most extreme counter measure they had at their disposal.
Which didn't make sense, they must have known despite our power we were far outnumbered in this opening battle. In their inexperience and arrogance of battling the Imperium a counter attack from the land or air was considered the most likely possibility. Especially that deploying capital weaponry would destroy their invaluable foundries and orbital elevators.
We had underestimated their resolve, yet none of those fleeting ideas mattered anymore. Our only hope of surviving this strike was to get to cover, but this was not a military facility.
Arminger almost found some morbid humor in this attack, grinning and chuckling before he spoke, "I'm honored these filthy creatures consider us such a threat brothers."
"Silence," I growled back then voxed the Praetor, "Impact?"
"Four seconds…"
It would not be enough.
For a moment I lamented my fortune, thinking some force in the universe had decided to balance the scales of my quick ascension with an equally expedited death. But there were no such unseen hands guiding my destiny,
"In battle I shall die,"
A simple fact of existence as an Astartes, there was no way for us to meet our end but that of a warrior's death.
"In righteous glory, I abide."
I stopped running, skidding on the rubble strewn floor while I turned to face the reflecting pool. The bright fiery comet sailing down from low orbit drew a burning line across the lake of carnage and scrap.
The others noted my stance but carried on, they would defy the treacherous alien tactic to the end in their own way. But I chose to face my death with honor.
Two, One…
There was no explosion.
No fire of atoms splitting apart with the primal fury of a miniature supernova. The ground shook from a heavy impact rattling glass and flaking debris from the walls of the elevator base. But the Vanguard yet lived, I clicked my vox once drawing the attention of the Sixty First and my chosen squads again, signing them forward with caution.
Dust billowed up in waves from whatever had come down from the sky, I filtered through vision modes trying to get a picture of what was waiting for us. I noticed the blue glow first,
An eerie light sifting through the dust storm, one of the Xeno's energy shields I surmised. A tall domed energy field protecting another Automata.
A machine much larger than the frames we had faced in the drop pod force, but estimating its height proved difficult. The Automata was down on one metallic knee, clutching an appropriately sized belt fed chaingun by the barrel while the butt balanced on the ground in its four clawed left hand.
White armor plates covered much of its humanoid body in rounded curves leading to joints and shoulders that ended at hard angles next to the rounded center mass studded with charred ports like maneuvering thrusters. A single circular vision port quietly scanned its surroundings, giant pouches hung from its chest what they contained was anyone's guess. The machine remained immobile as Astartes lined up, revving their chainblades aiming their bolters and missile launchers. Experience stayed their hand with how futile we knew it would be to fire on the shield.
"Hold," I commanded my men, Captain Arminger, Master Bruis, his acolytes and several squads of Assault Marines began to circle around. Sergeant Ryder planted the standard at my side driving the killing spike on the end deep into the steps below, leaving the proud sun standing and freeing up the sergeant's hands.
Air and heavy pistons hissed as the machine began to move, bolters came up preparing to fire the instant that shield dropped or charge in if it didn't. It did not move with violent purpose, the mechanical beast dipped its empty right hand down between its legs.
Something slid into the waiting palm,
I almost didn't believe my eyes, but I realized there was a figure now grasped in the palm of the Automata's hand. Imperfectly invisible like light bent around it's body, I knew it was one of the Xeno's. With that cloak it had somehow stealthed its way through the circle of Marines to this thing.
The machine started to stand, lifting its Ra'Chaal charge up to its broad chest. Two hatches swung open like the great maw of some death world predator and the machine placed the Xeno within its body. At the last moment the cloak failed revealing one of the more heavily armored aliens with an enclosed helm like I had witnessed at our first encounter on the surface.
The hatch closed and the Automata stood tall readying its weapon.
Not an Automata I realized, more like a Knight.
And that Xeno was its pilot.
"John! It has a pilot!"
My second nodded, "I saw that Commander… That thing is off balance, I'd wager we've angered the creature."
Inside the shield the walker rose up on two feet, it had to be almost six meters tall. The Xeno Knight turned to its right taking in the slaughter we had wrought on the evacuation, I knew Captain Arminger was correct if this thing had come down all on its own this was personal. It may have taken offense to our merciless culling of the evacuees, as if rules of honor were even a consideration with these creatures. Or more likely I hypothesized we had killed some of its kin, or even a mate.
And now it was about to throw its life away in a fruitless attempt at vengeance.
The blue dome winked out of existence.
With a burst of red thrusters the Knight shot out to the right its feet sparking across the ferrocrete, dodging the first volley of bolt shells and missiles. Assault marines boosted out of the way to avoid being crushed. Dozens of weapons shifted tracking the walker, I fired my first shots from my wrist mounted combi bolter this day at the looming machine. Mass reactive shells exploded against its armor, I saw flickering fields of energy in between the bursts of shrapnel this walker had some sort of automatic shielding. But it wouldn't have dodged the first volley if we could not hurt it.
The massive chaingun swept down and returned fire, heavy armor piercing munitions detonated down in the Assault squads swarming around its ankles pumping fire up into unarmored areas. Three marines were brought down in bloody sprays as the alien rounds struck home.
I raised up one claw back to the heavy weapons, "Rockets!"
As back blasts of fire erupted over shoulders I knew this wasn't dodging away again.
Instead it boosted right into the path of our rockets.
Surrounded once again the left hand came up into our line of fire, curls of blue energy swirled around its flat fingers summoning a massive vortex of energy stopping our bolt shells and missiles in midair the munitions spinning like a school of bright fish spurting exhaust trails. The Knight continued to fire its weapon single handedly in a T pose.
Arminger hacked his power ax down at the walker's leg, it kicked out at him like it was shooing away a rabid dog. The nimble Assault Captain barely managing to turn away from the lethal force of the blow in time.
Two off hand weapons sprouted from its back on very thin connector arms, rectangle like instruments laced with the universal red capped cone shaped heads of rockets. One dipped down at the Assault Marines.
The other pointed right at me.
Crested helms, ornate armor and billowing capes drew attention to a warrior. Singling out commanders in the press of uniform armor. Some thought it foolish to wear such garb preferring their officers to hide in that anonymity.
Cowards thought like that.
Astartes did not.
"Down!"
Instantly Marines dove for cover, ducking behind pillars and rushing to the flanks. I broke into a run hoping to get beneath the weapon's firing arc before it was unleashed. And to spare my brothers from its attack I knew was directed at me. The machine's vision port flicked back to the squads behind me and it turned its outstretched hand up.
Its finger's flexed.
The rocket pods fired.
And all the stolen bolts and missiles flew back at the Marines who had fired them, I did not see the carnage that followed behind me.
Focusing entirely at the one rocket coming screaming at my face, in the middle of another step I knew I could not dodge it. Instead I swung both claws up, shredding the alien projectile before it could blow my head off. Instinct ducked my head down behind my forearms, blocking the explosion that followed an instant later.
Heat and pressure smashed against my Mark II plates but I didn't break stride. Shooting this thing down with our weapons on hand was no longer a sound strategy. One of Bruis's acolytes primed a melta bomb and prepared to make a throw.
The towering walker sensed the danger pivoted and aimed its chaingun low, the black armored Marine raised up his boarding shield blocking the deadly burst. The Knight brought up a fist and fired its thrusters again, amplifying the massive kinetic force behind the rail driver punch coming down.
The acolyte dropped his shield to hurl the bomb at the worst possible moment catching the Knight's fist square in the chest.
Ceramite shattered and blood sprayed out of the cracks in his armor, the acolyte was dead before his feet even left the ground and his melta bomb left his hand. The device exploded half a second later as I closed into arms reach.
Bolt pistols kept chipping away at the light energy shield the mass reactive shells finally penetrating the field and damaging its armor. With a nimbleness that belied its bulk the walker spun back and went down to one knee and I found myself staring down the barrel of its chaingun.
From the corner of my eyes I saw a flash of black Master Bruis swung his power maul down on the ammunition belt almost snapping the weapon clean in two. Certainly putting it out of commission.
I seized this chance.
Springing off from the useless gun I spread my arms wide then dug my claws into the armored frame like I was trying to hug the machine.
The Knight shot back to its feet, the others saw me in their iron sights and thankfully held their fire, leaving me in its iron embrace. My helmet pressed against the ocular port filling the pilot's vision with my Mark II helm. It turned and stumbled wildly trying to throw me off, I drew back my left hand and stabbed at the vulnerable shoulder joints piercing through the delicate servos and locking the right arm in place. Then for good measure, I head butted and shattered the pilot's only means of seeing.
Disentangling my right hand with all my strength I pulled myself as high as I could with my left and started clawing my way to the Xeno inside the mono edged power blades making short work of the hull. I heard a familiar explosion of rending metal from below, the Knight lurched to the right at the worst possible moment when I was completely off balance. My grip slipped and I fell hard to the ground.
I rolled back to my feet, the Knight's left leg had been torn in two sinking it down onto the scorched nub. Sergeant Ryder, the one I assumed had done this deed, buried his powerfist into its pelvis on his back hand swing.
The Knight made to pulverize Ryder into another bloody pulp with a swift right hook as its tortured servos screamed in protest from the damage I had caused. In the middle of its swing Captain Arminger launched forward cutting off the clawed hand at the wrist with his power ax.
Its portions chopped back the giant limb stopped just short of its intended target. I saw this had been done to its left hand as well,
Arminger's handiwork, saved my life probably.
Effectively crippled and totally blind the machine froze in place letting Sergeant Ryder pull back to a safe distance. Seeing a clear and easy target the heavy weapons team had no need for an order to fire. Half a dozen rockets finally flew true blowing the doomed Knight apart.
Ragged cheers sounded from our ranks, while I too was proud that the machine had finally fallen more than anything I could only think of how lucky we had been.
We still had a duty to perform.
I voxed back to Rameus, "Tyr send in the Apothecaries immediately."
"They're on their way."
Arminger walked up to the smoking pile of scrap poking pieces with the head of his ax. "What are the odds this was their only Knight?"
Very very slim I thought, yet when I parted my lips to answer my second to my left Sergeant Vallo suddenly drew a plasma pistol and fired a shot almost straight up into the air. I swept my combi bolter up to see what he had shot at,
I tracked the burning plasma shot until it seemed to strike against nothing,
The alien's camouflage failed,
And the flaming corpse landed in the wreck of its mighty steed right in front of Captain Arminger. Sergent Vallo spun the pistol by the trigger guard around his fingers re-holstering it in a flashy flourish.
Master Bruis, Arminger, Sergeant Ryder and I gave him a collective look of confusion.
"The pilot ejected my lords," He said rather casually, "And yes. I sensed something…"
Bloody Psykers.
I brought a map of the alien city up across my heads up display, the other lesser Captains of the Vanguard had taken out several of the laser defense batteries and marked them as clear on the battlenet.
The hole was open.
"My Lord Praetor," I said, calling back to the flagship and the entire Vanguard, "Our targets are secure and the red carpet has been laid. May we request the pleasure of the Auxilia's presence?"
Vaurion's response was prompt, and laced with a relieved tone, "Indeed you may Commander they are already on their way."
I saw my display shift over to a private channel to the Praetor, and my heart soared at his words of praise.
"Well done Skius."
I couldn't help but smile, "Thank you lord,"
That weight of anxiety that had hung from my shoulders since our flight down to this forsaken world finally lifted free. We had met the enemy and weathered their best shot, proving or place as the superior warriors and species.
And I had lived up to the promise my Praetor saw.
With my spirits higher than the elevator above us I headed back inside to set up our command post and begin guiding the army landers down to the reflecting pool. No mind paid to the rain of false alien meteors falling down from the sky on the inner forges.
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A/N
Would anyone care or believe me that I had no Idea about Mass Effect Andromeda's protagonist family name when I started writing this?
Anywho if it wasn't obvious before, I'm sure those in the know can definitely see the minor crossover elements now. Just a little something I felt like doing with one of the games that has been slowing down ITGD and my college career a lot lately.
And before I forget again, I took the little cover picture here from something my good buddy Nemris made for me a while ago. Go check out his DeviantArt page for more cool stuff.
Can't really say much else really. Will have one more battle chapter and then have a breather one where I set up the twist to this campaign building up to earn its other working title.
So share if you care, review as you do, I really gotta get back to my schoolwork.