AN: Here it is ladies and gents another chap rewrite bites the dust, I'm getting good at this... I think... Anyways, I'd like to personally thank all of my new Discord server non-coms, everyone who's contributed in some way, my followers, and yes even those who've criticised my work, I appreciate everyone of you lot, you keep me going.
Enough of this sappy crap, chap 13 has been "enhanced" and some substantial changes have been done to increase workflow and hopefully speed up the process further.
Please Enjoy.
November 30th 2207 EMC [Earth Military Calendar] 2151 CE [Common Era].
Turian Frontier Space, Agamemnon System.
SSV Lion R-106, Combat Information Centre.
[Play: The Dreadnoughts: Into The North: Roll Northumbria.]
Gripping the war table, as the Lion shook from multiple consecutive Dreadnought grade rounds impacted against the bow, Ka'mara took stock of the situation provided by the Lion's DRADIS system.
The screens above were covered in markers showing friendly and hostile fleet formations, some separate, others intermixed with one another; the combined Sixth fleet was still heavily outnumbered in terms of sheer numbers; but for where it counted, gun for gun it was clear as day both sides had near parity with the other.
This was a renewed second push by the Batarian's, who had obviously been expecting the entirety of the existing Turian forces to have been annihilated by the initial invasion force; unluckily for them, with the Lion's and the Sixth fleet's intervention, they had far more to chew than anticipated.
Even the demolished vessels of the local defence force battlegroup were contributing to hell above Agamemnon; acting as impromptu orbital defence platforms in a low enough orbit to constantly discharge their saturating heat sinks.
Another inherent advantage for the defence forces was the Lion itself, by providing an active fleetwide fighter screen, which was currently absolutely slaughtering swathes of boarding pods, she was able to relieve the Sixth fleet's guardian laser systems, allowing them to ravage the swarms of missiles incoming to the fleet as a distraction.
While some of the boarding pods still made it to their targets, there were not enough for any one ship in particular to be put at risk; enough to provide those crews in particular with an absolute headache to deal with but at least the fleet wasn't at risk of one of their own opening up on them.
As Ka'mara was rattled as the ship shook from another series of rounds striking the ship she remembered during one of her off duty periods striking up 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 year long journey.
"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." He'd said rather poignantly to her.
Shaking her head to clear the errant thought, Ka'mara looked towards her superior and close friend whose eyes were glued firmly on the war table display.
"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." The Chief Gunnery officer bellowed.
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 crew's lives was one way to end up as public enemy number one.
"Bastards have realised that if they can't break through our armour that easily, 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 instantly picked up her wireless and made a quick announcement over the ship-wide PA system. "All hands, this is the XO. Brace for Keyhole combat manoeuvres." Ka'mara placed her wireless back onto its base.
Keyhole manoeuvres were in essence rotating the vessel on its x axis in an attempt to make picking off the main batteries as difficult as possible, it also provided a means of reducing barrel wear in protracted engagements.
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, and more than a few existing wounds reopened. "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 and just how the fuck it slipped the grid!" A junior officer barked out in response.
"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 minute and 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 there are in critical condition." Lieutenant Smollet declared.
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.
[Play: Volbeat: Beyond Hell / Above Heaven: The Mirror and the Ripper.]
"Admiral the SSV Lion has taken damage! I have confirmation that the Blast is consistent with a high yield Disruptor Mine." One of the Spirits junior officers barked, 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….
Galavan had a sinking feeling in his gut. "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.
"Pass the order for the fleet 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 the 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 the 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 Keyhole 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 properly 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 hundred 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 "Black Knight"
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 famous tanks / tankers.
Black Knight, whose name took a double meaning from an Ill fated Life Extension Programme (LEP) demonstrator and the satirical knight from Monty Python's Holy Grail.
Shiela, named after a famous machinima tank from the 2000's that talked rather sassily to her owners.
Fury, named after the movie tank stored back at Bovington's tank museum, which is still in running condition despite her age.
And last, but certainly not least. Oddball, named after the hippy tank commander from Kelly's Heroes, one of the few movies stored on the Captain's ancient Ipod, inherited from his great grandfather.
"Third story, multi-story car park, Infantry with RPG. Load HESH." MacTavish called out over the tanks personal comms.
"Sighted." His gunner barked.
"Loaded." His 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." Black Knight'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. "Oddball, three runners with AT on your three o'clock."
"Copy." Echoed through his earpiece before Oddball's Co-Axial thirty calibre machine gun fired in six, six round bursts, all three hostile's 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 headquarters 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-pirate bastards, they'd failed to shoot down a single pelican carrying any one of the tanks which was coming to bite them in the ass something fierce.
And with any luck the militia now armed with something more than surplus firearms could actually act like a legitimate infantry screen for the four of them.
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?" Sheila's loader piped up over the squad net, as he busied himself with Sheila's '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. Lifers seem to be something thats creeping the fuck out of the locals however."
"No shit, those fuckers take Psychological warfare to a different level, I mean eight to ten foot tall cyborgs armed to the fucking teeth, talking with child voices, singing twinkle, twinkle little star and other shit?" Black Knights driver piped up over the squad net.
"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." Fury's driver piped up from his reclined position.
"Until then we still have a job to do." 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 rigid 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 spirit's 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 Aquarius' 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, maybe these humans are the species to get the council's collective ass to take action, instead of just reacting to dangers once the damage has 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.]
Liam once again had his eyes affixed firmly to the Lion's war table, even with the fight over, Ka'mara could physically see her captain's knuckles turning white from how hard he was physically gripping the thing.
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, 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, preliminary ones however made note that the disruptor mine had ripped an 80 metre hole clean through the port side right underneath where the portside hanger pod would retract into, the Lion and her crew 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 multiple 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 effects 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: I've been asked by people on my server on how I select music for my scenes, truth is I don't, I listen to my vast library of music and whatever I'm listening to at the time becomes the song for the scene.
Chap fourteen is in the works and hopefully with it being more recent of a chapter there won't be nearly as much work to change to keep it in line with continuity, the whole purpose of the rewrite.
Anyways, I'm gonna shill like shit beyond this point.
New store for merchandise is available on: 75thrbsg dot com
Discord server link requires you to be logged on Discord, for those who struggle working out on how to add a server, click on "add a server" / little plus symbol on the left of your interface and copy pasta my link: F4NyA8P3QS
Thanks again to those who read this far.