Grand Admiral Stanford stood on the bridge of his flagship the Devastator scowling down at the green and blue planet that hung in front of him with an armada of enemy capitol ships surrounding it. He hadn't expected the Cornerians to be able to offer up such a fierce and determined resistance, but none could stand against the might of the Brotherhood in the end. His ships had already opened up several holes in the enemy lines through which dropships and fighters were pouring through at regular intervals to join their comrades in the equally hard fought battles down on the planets surface. He turned from the view port and walked over to the holo table that displayed the locations of his units as wells as enemy units. He'd always found it interesting how much the table resembled a much more detailed version of a holo chess board, as if war was nothing more then a gigantic chess game with the pieces being living soldiers and the prize being much more that mere pride. General Osborn joined him at the command table and didn't appear very happy.
"How goes the ground battle general?"
"Not as well as expected Grand Admiral but still roughly on schedule. The Cornerians have been able to block our advances at several points but do not have the manpower to cover every area we could advance through. Unfortunately a problem has arisen. The Cornerian military has launched a sizable offensive and has punched a hole in our lines, they are headed for the landing site."
"Don't worry General they won't make it."
Osborn bristled slightly at being so easily put aside but made an obvious attempt to hide it; as far as Stanford was concerned he might as well not have tried especially since the general's skin was taking on a red tinge. Stanford turned back towards the holo table.
"Three flights of fighters consisting of three squadrons each will converge on the city at this point and begin more bombing runs and engage any enemy fighters in the air, while one of our corvettes will take up a position deep within the planets atmosphere and assist in bombarding the city. We would take considerable losses if we tried to storm any of the military bases within the enemy controlled sector of the city, but if we keep them under a constant artillery bombardment and use the classic strategy of depriving them of sleep and working their nerves before we attack then our losses will be much less."
Osborn scratched his scaly chin as he considered what seemed like a pretty sound plan.
"Yes I agree. If we could acquire and maintain control of the skies than we could position our artillery and move our troops at will while the Cornerians would be forced to either remain within the safety of their own sector or would have to skulk in the shadows within their own city. More than a little ironic isn't it?"
"Yes, not only that but there would be no way that they could move any heavy mechanized units or aircraft in our sector without bringing our air force down on their heads."
"What of the biochemical agent that the science junkies promised us?"
"According to the reports, a mining complex for some kind of radioactive and highly unstable substance has been completed and experiments with this substance that has been code-named tiberion have been promising."
"All this was in the reports?"
Stanford smiled.
"No of course not, but I know certain people, have certain contacts. How do you think I would still be alive if I wasn't always one step ahead of those political bastards?"
"Speaking of politicians have you noticed Grandeur's growing interest in actual tactics?"
"What do you mean?"
"Six months ago he wouldn't have givena damn however the hell we did things as long as we got things done quickly and his secret little police force assured him we knew what we were doing. But a few weeks ago he came up with an actual plan that sounded like it actually might have a chance that it could work."
"What are you saying?"
"I don't really know what it means, but since when does a politician of any kind take an interest in the military?"
The coyote Grand Admiral seemed to shiver for a moment and said more to himself than to Osborn.
"Indeed what does this mean?"
Sergeant Stevenson was standing at the back of the light vehicle or called LRV by some and swung the mounted chain gun around to unleash a hail of hot lead on another squad of a squad of Brotherhood soldiers, mowing down several while the rest dove for cover. Behind the vehicle he was riding in five more LRVs, two flatbed trucks, and two APCs raced down the ravaged streets in the wake of a battalion of Cornerian tanks. Personally he would rather be on foot with the rest of his unit back in the area where they'd secured the buildings, but no the officers had pulled him temporarily they had said from his old unit and stuck him here, in a unit that was racing right for their deaths. A group of Brotherhood soldiers stuck their heads and weapons out from several windows on buildings on either side of the street only to have them blown off. A pair of Brotherhood LAVs raced up from back alleys with machine guns blazing and succeeded in blowing out the armored tires of one the light vehicles, sending it careening into an abandoned store on the side of the road before they too succumbed to the hail of high caliber bullets from the other LRVs. As the vehicles turned a corner Brotherhood soldiers popped out from windows and rooftops and the Cornerians suddenly found themselves racing through a hail of bullets and blaster bolts. A second LRV was hit by a rocket and blew to pieces while a third was riddled by enemy fire and with its crew dead crashed into a street corner. Stevenson held down the trigger and sprayed the Brotherhood soldiers with bullets sending scores of them falling from the rooftops to the street below and generally keeping the survivor's heads down. A Brotherhood APC rolled up from a side road and opened fire with its own heavy chain gun while a soldier popped up from a hatch and aimed a rocket launcher at one of the passing Cornerian APCs. Just as the soldier had lined up his target he was hit by burst of blaster fire from one of the flatbed trucks and launched the rocket off into the sky while his blood spattered onto the top of the APC. The Brotherhood vehicle surged forward as its gunner suffered a similar fate.
"Look out, the bastards are gonna ram!"
Too late, the armored vehicle slammed into the flatbed truck, sending it rolling off the road and slamming into a concrete wall before the APC was hit by a flurry of rockets from the rest of the Cornerian vehicles. As the vehicles turned another corner the enemy fire stopped and for a moment Stevenson thought they'd broken through the enemy lines. Then the vehicles encountered a roadblock and his blood went cold as he heard a familiar whining sound. A Brotherhood Banshee hovered up over one of the buildings and its nose-mounted cannon sent a storm of high-powered laser blasts screamin down on the column of vehicles. The LRV swerved like a thing possessed before flipping and going into a roll as a flurry of the laser blast slammed into the vehicle, Stevenson hit the ground hard as the LRV crashed into the roadblock. A Cornerian APC vanished in a fireball as the Banshee unleashed its rocket pods. A blizzard of bullets and blaster bolts slammed into the aircraft, bouncing and pinging off its armor before rocket soldier got a lucky shot on the Banshee's starboard hover turbine and sent it spiraling out of sight again, a moment later the rumble of an explosion was heard. A marine bearing a lieutenant's insignia hopped out of the surviving APC.
"What are you waiting for you bastards, get out and climb over that roadblock, vehicle crews try and find a way around and meet us somewhere on the other side!"
Stevenson hauled himself to his feet and pulled his assault rifle from its place on his back as the rest of the marines charged past and clambered over the roadblock.
As Wolf O'Donnell sprinted down the alley another burst of blaster bolt slammed into a concrete wall behind him.
"Damn sons of bitches!"
As if the soldiers chasing him heard the curse a flurry of bullets whizzed by him. Wolf turned a corner and leapt on top of a rusted garbage dumpster then lunged for a particularly deep windowsill, pulling himself up as the soldiers rounded the corner and charged past him. He was about to let out the breath he'd been holding when one of the soldiers stopped running.
"Hey sarge!"
The group of soldiers stopped and the one who called out nodded toward the dumpster, a soldier bearing what Wolf assumed was the insignia of a Brotherhood sergeant fired a burst of blaster bolts into the dumpster. A pair of soldiers threw the garbage dumpster's lid open and thrust the muzzles of their weapons inside… to find it empty. The sergeant cursed and the squad started running a little faster down the alley. Wolf finally exhaled, all this trouble just because he'd tried to steal a Brotherhood vehicle?
The battered lupine dropped back down to the ground and sprinted off in the direction opposite of where the Brotherhood troops had gone. He had to find somewhere safe, but definitely not one of the shelters just sitting around waiting for the enemy to finally come, no definitely not. Oh well he'd think of something.
General Pepper put the end of the pipe back into his mouth and took another look at the screen. His fighters were now outnumbered at least seven or eight to one and had taken massive casualties.
"Lieutenant tell all troops not engaged in combat to fall back to point to rally point alpha, and have all troops on our side of the rally point advance and begin setting up defensive lines for our troops to fall back to. Then pull back all fighter squadrons to our sector."
"We're abandoning the northeast sector sir, and the people in the shelters there?"
"Are you questioning my order soldier?'
"But I have family in those shelters!"
Pepper sighed and rubbed his eyes again.
"We have no choice Lieutenant. If we don't give up the northeast section and strengthen our hold here than we will suffer the same fate all too quickly. It's for the greater good.
"We can't leave them!"
"I said we have no choice soldier."
The lieutenant stood up.
"We can't leave them!"
"Sit down soldier."
"I can't abandon them, I won't!"
Pepper rubbed his eyes again. The poor fellow probably wasn't even thinking straight anymore, he'd probably already cracked. Pepper motioned for the guards. As the pair of burly marines dragged the screaming technician from the command center Pepper lit his pipe again. Was this the war that would finally make him crack? The question refused to be put aside as he sat down in his command chair and tried to return his attention to the screens.