Chapter Twenty One: Chokepoint Pt. I
She pushed onwards still
Hunger called, and she answered
With words of caution
UNSC Infinity
Despara, Julta System
"Dare, this better be quick. The Reapers are estimated to arrive in just one and a half hours. Who's this?"
Lieutenant Colonel Veronica Dare cleared her throat, standing on the opposite side of the oaken wooden desk in Admiral Lasky's private office. The person the Admiral was referring to was the handsome brown-haired man next to Dare dressed in the same jet-black Office of Naval Intelligence fatigues as she was.
"Captain Nathan Drake, ONI Prowler Corps, Admiral. Commander of the Sahara-class Heavy Prowler Jericho," said the man, whipping off a textbook salute.
"Prowler Corps huh?" said Lasky, returning the salute with one eyebrow raised. "Let me guess, attached by ONI to 'accompany' Skyheit's Battlegroup Yorktown?"
"Correct sir," replied Drake. "The Jericho would have been assigned to Yorktown eventually, seeing as it was the main deployment point for UNSC Force Recon, and thus a significant military presence. However the disappearance of the Infinity caused ONI to attach the Jericho to Yorktown as soon as word came that they would be the first search group sent out to your last known location."
"Wow. Knowing most of you ONI types I would have expected just a short 'yes', or no answer at all," said Lasky sardonically. Turning his gaze back to Dare he said, "I like him already. But, one question Dare. Yorktown has been with us for almost two days now. When exactly were you going to tell me that we had a Saraha-class Heavy Prowler alongside us?"
"Standard operating procedure dictates that a Prowler should not be revealed to mainline UNSC forces until the highest-ranking ONI officer in the theater deems it absolutely necessary," said Dare, repeating the lines from her memory perfectly.
"I figured it was something like that," said Lasky sighing. "Still, I'd be lying if I said that you didn't pick a damn good time to do so," he conceded, pursing his lips. "Captain Drake, I assume that the Jericho has a full ordinance compliment?"
"Yes Admiral," answered Drake.
"Including Hornet nuclear mines?"
"Of course."
"Excellent," said Lasky, drumming his fingers together. "I know exactly how we're going to use you. If you'll follow me to the briefing room Captain."
UNSC Infinity, Flag Bridge
"Admirals, the probe at Despara's sister Relay system reports visual of the main Reaper force."
Lasky and his Turian counterpart Admiral Tibrinus shared a glance, one rife with the nervous anticipation that settled deep in the stomach just before the start of an important battle. They still had a decent amount of time, at Reaper FTL speeds it would take nearly ten minutes for the enemy group to arrive at Despara. Every preparation had been made. It was a waiting game now.
"Size and composition?" asked Tibrinus.
They had been tracking the Reapers headed towards Despara as they passed through systems monitored by STG stealth observation satellites. However, they had not been able to get a truly accurate strength assessment, as additional Reaper ships had been trickling into the main group as they marauded their way through their occupied portions of Turian space.
"One hundred and eighty-six total enemy warships. Sixty-eight Capital ships. One hundred and two Destroyers. Sixteen vessels that don't match known Reaper profiles," said Roland.
"What? Sixteen unknown vessels?" said Lasky, alarmed. "We've been tracking the Reapers through the STG sattelites for almost a full day now. Where did they come from?"
"I'm not exactly sure sir. Perhaps they joined with the main group right before the jump to Despara's sister Relay?" suggested the AI.
"Can you show us these new ships? Do we have any sensor readings?" asked Tibrinus, crossing his arms.
"Already done, sir. I'll put the preliminary analysis on the main holotable. It's just a visual scan and some inferences about it's drive based on size and visible movement. The STG satellite isn't close enough to read for Mass Effect output."
The AI brought up a three-dimensional holographic model of the unknown ship, various relevant statistics bordering all around it. The WWII bomber-gear-clad avatar started pacing around the edges of the table 'looking' at the ships. Venus, Yorktown's AI who was projecting an avatar on the table as well, was laying on a propped up elbow, elegant white robes draping over her form as she studied the new ships as well.
The two Admirals spent several seconds looking over the model with the type of analytical fervor of career Navy men. Even as they watched, additional annotations and suppositions appeared as the CIC crew in the main bridge teased any additional details they could from the limited sensor readings. Both men were clearly thinking the same things, but neither wanted to jump to any conclusions, especially in front of their fellow admiral. Still, the few details found in the long-range scans were telling.
The new ship came in at eight-hundred and fifty meters long, splitting the difference between the smaller Reaper destroyer and larger Sovereign-class dreadnoughts. It shared a similar squid-like profile as the other Reaper ships, with a key difference; the leg-like projections that so characterized the front of the dreadnought were absent here.
Lasky frowned as his eyes moved over the tentative conclusions from the CIC evaluation group. Those legs were where Reaper ships typically mounted their secondary armament. That these ships didn't have them implied those weapons had been removed. The ships were also staying grouped together.
Human Cruisers didn't normally operate in groups. Even in fleet actions, they tended to be the command ships of Frigate flotillas, offering heavier weapon support to those fast-moving groups. Turian doctrine was similar. That the Reapers, who barely bothered with formations or group tactics with their Destroyers and Dreadnoughts, were still keeping these ships groups together implied a specialized combat role. The question was what?
They weren't logistics ships; the Reapers didn't need those. Even without a standard secondary armament, they had to be combat ships, otherwise they would stay in the adjacent system instead of advancing with the Destroyers and Dreadnought's. So some sort of combat ship, but probably not for direct gun-to-gun engagements. And that was about all they could say without more information. Information they weren't going to get from the spy drone that was rapidly falling further and further behind the incoming Reaper ships.
Lasky gave a mental head-shake. It probably wouldn't matter even if those ships flew right past the recon sat. There was very little you could tell about a ship from just watching it fly by, you had to see it do something. Watch it take fire to evaluate it's barriers, maneuver evasively to judge the engines, etc. There were too many holes in their knowledge of Reaper ship technology and combat doctrine to make any real judgments about what those mystery ships could do.
Lasky looked up from the holo-table to meet Tibrinus' eyes, seeing a similar understanding reflected there. They were both experienced admirals, they were both well aware of what they knew and, in this case, how much they didn't.
"We need to know more about those ships before we can make any judgments" Lasky said, the hardness of his voice conveying his displeasure at having one of the fundamental rules of war validated; no battle plan survives first contact with the enemy.
Tibrinus nodded. "Four Cruisers and their attached Frigates should have sufficient staying power and offensive punch to make those ships reveal some of their capabilities. I'll pull ships from the picket group."
"That's a one-way trip," said Lasky. From others, that statement could have been accusatory, but Lasky was just stating a fact; neither admiral was unfamiliar with the experience of knowingly ordering men to their deaths.
Tibrinus sighed heavily. "For all we know those unknown ships could be something as nonthreatening as a simple repair ship. Or, they could be some kind of Reaper superweapons. Knowing what we know about our enemy, the safe bet would be they're more offensive minded then they look. Either way, we need to find out. The battle could depend on it."
"It's your call Tibrinus," said Lasky. It would Turian ships and crews making the sacrifices, not his.
"It's our planet, and those are Turian soldiers. There's a reason we had so many volunteers for the picket group," replied Tibrinus, a little pride shining through his obvious regret at sending those orders.
He's right to feel proud, thought Lasky. The picket groups were comprised of Cruisers and Frigates dispersed around the inner system, currently under tight emission-control and sheltered behind moons, out of view of the relay. Those ships were positioned away from the main fleet orbiting the planet so they could rapidly respond to any needs or opportunities during the battle.
Unfortunately, without any support from the UNSC ships or the orbital defenses, those groups would be seriously outgunned, so Tibrinus has made them volunteer-only postings. Every Turian Frigate and Cruiser in the fleet had volunteered, so the picket slots were assigned by random lottery. Lasky wasn't sure he could count on a similar response had he asked the same of a UNSC fleet. That Turian martial tradition was really something else.
The UNSC Admiral just nodded, breaking eye contact. The Turian Admiral represented an interesting, if not an entirely unwelcome, addition to the Infinity. Tibrinus and Lasky had both agreed that since his flagship had been heavily damaged during the fight at Palaven and would be all but useless sitting docked in the driveyards above Despara, the Turian Admiral and a small number of aids would post up on the Infinity so as to better coordinate the Turian and UNSC navies during the battle.
Helping him to do that were six Turian communications officers that Tibrinus had pulled from the Aureylian, sitting in chairs and manning consoles that had been field-stripped from his disabled flagship and hastily installed by Turian and UNSC engineers where the flag bridge's secondary holo-table used to be.
'Flag Bridge.' Lasky was still getting used to that. Buried deep within the bowels of the ship, the flag bridge, installed when he had been promoted, was a room that was nothing but information consoles, holotables, communcations gear, and vid consoles. He had been actively avoiding this place ever since HIGHCOM had made him Admiral and more or less took away his 'command' of Infinity.
They had made her his flagship, but actual day-to-day operations of the ship had fallen to the now Acting Captain Micheals. The thing was, HighCom hadn't assigned Infinity an accompaniment fleet, so Lasky didn't really have that many 'Admiral-like' things to do. So, he had been working closely with Micheals in a way that resembled his earlier Captaincy more than anything else.
Now they weren't dealing with simple Storm Covenant skirmishes or long-range patrols. The UNSC was truly at war - again. Assuming this battle went according to plan, they would be launching a massive, galactic-scale counterattack aimed at expelling a highly advanced race of warship-AIs that numbered in the hundreds. As the highest ranking member of the UNSC in this new galaxy, his duties as Admiral superseded anything else now. No one else was qualified to lead these men and women in such an endeavor. Hell, Lasky wasn't sure that even he was qualified, but he would damn well try.
It was his job now to worry about the more strategic aspects of war, such as wholescale fleet positioning and maneuvering not only during individual battles, but on a galactic scale as well. The more tactical aspects like how the Infinity actually carried out Lasky's overarching orders would fall to Captain Micheals.
Lasky sighed, bringing his mind back to the impending battle. It was a waiting game now. By this point every system had been checked and rechecked dozens of times over by both their Human and Artificial Intelligence charges. Every ship was in position, every Captain and their crew ready to carry out their orders to their full effect. The civilians had been evacuated; Turian soldiers were posted all over the planet's surface, some accompanied by small selections of UNSC troops in the most strategic locations. Everything was in place for their foes arrival.
"Fleet commanders, give your final reports in," ordered Tibrinus. The reports came in numeric order and were all the same, a tantamount to Turian military rigidity and discipline. Tibrinus' communications officers called them out; only their \voices and individual fleet numbers were what differentiated one report from the other.
"Second Fleet, standing by."
"Fifth Fleet, standing by."
"Sixth Fleet, standing by."
"Eight Fleet, standing by."
"Ninth Fleet, standing by."
"Eleventh Fleet, standing by."
"Twelfth Fleet, standing by."
Just over half of the Turian pre-Reaper War fleet was assembled at Despara. The Turian Navy coincided fleet names with their size, meaning the First Fleet was the largest and the Fourteenth Fleet was the smallest. The First Fleet however had been completely destroyed when the Reapers first attacked the Turian homeworld, as well as the Fourth Fleet. The Third Fleet had lost the majority of it's ships performing delaying actions above Menae making sure Primarch Victus got out of the system, and had been absorbed into the Second.
The Thirteenth and Fourteenth fleets, being the smallest, had been patrolling the farthest borders of Turian space and thus were not going to be able to make it to Despara in time for the major battle. The Seventh and Tenth fleets had both chosen to conduct holding actions across Reaper-controlled space to allow the rest of the Turian Fleets to be able to retreat to Despara in the first place. They were most likely destroyed or severely reduced in strength by this point.
Despite the beatings they had taken over Palaven Turian morale was still high and their will was firmly set in their fight the Reapers. Lasky had to admit that he was impressed with their spirit.
The Alliance fleets suffered the same dilemma that the farther-stationed Turian fleets did: they were simply too far away to make it to Despara in time. Also, due to the aggressive advance that the combined forces of the galaxy would have to make through Turian space to reach Palaven within three weeks, Admirals Lasky, Tibrinus, and Manis had decided that the Salarian's stealth fleet would be best used to forward deploy pathfinder ground teams to Reaper-controlled systems in preparation for the future sweeping advance.
All in all, the Turians had managed to assemble exactly six-hundred and twenty-two combat vessels to challenge the Reapers at Despara. Combine that with the UNSC's twenty-four warships and that number was increased to six-hundred and forty-six. However, both Lasky and Tibrinus knew that each UNSC ship was worth their weight in Eezo for the damage they were able to do to their Reaper foes, and the damage that they could withstand as well.
"Sirs, Reaper force has made contact with Relay," notified Roland.
Well that's it then, thought Lasky. He watched as the holotable updated with the position of the enemy fleet as it transitioned from the Relays. "Sound General Quarters."
As the alarm to General Quarters started warbling, and Roland announced the alert throughout the Infinity.
"General quarters, general quarters! All hands man your battle-stations! Up and forwards to the starboard side, down and aft to the port side!"
Lasky's gaze once again settled upon the main holotable, where the real-time positions of all significant vessels, structures, debris, or other such items were displayed.
Roland quickly classified and color-coded the enemy force. The sixty-eight Capital ships stayed that standard deep rdred, while the one-hundred-and-two Destroyers turned into a darker, almost magenta color. The sixteen unknown Reaper ships that Lasky and Tibrinus had been worried about were a slowly flashing yellow. On the friendly side, the UNSC forces were blue, the Turian forces were green, and the shipyards well behind their lines were gunmetal grey.
"Give the order to our special task force," ordered Tibrinus calmly. Four Cruisers leading four Frigate wolfpacks jumped from their scattered positions around the inner system, reappearing not a second later just 'above' the Reaper aggressors who had just arrived from the Relay. It was a brilliant display of pinpoint astrogation, all four ship groups dropping to sublight already in formation with each other less than three seconds apart, even with their different origin points and transit times.
As they maneuvered their mass accelerators towards the sixteen unknown ships Tibrinus said, "Initiate Phase One."
His communications officers relayed his order, and seconds later dozens of enormous asteroids strategically placed in extremely high planetary orbit, several thousand kilometers in front of the Turian/UNSC defensive line exploded into millions upon millions of fragments. These asteroids, maneuvered into position by Turian mining tugs and laced with industrial charges by joint military/civilian demolitions teams during the hours leading up to this moment, served one purpose: to deny the Reapers the advantage of aggressive FTL maneuvering.
Lasky had learned his lesson above Alliance Earth, when a portion of the Reaper forces performed a precise FTL jump right behind their defensive line, effectively encircling them with pinpoint accuracy, a huge disadvantage in any theater of warfare. Everything he had learned about the Reapers told him that they operated on basically the same technology as the rest of the galaxy, albeit on a much more advanced and powerful scale. Standard Eezo-powered FTL drives contained a failsafe that wouldn't allow a jump if a collision risk was present, even with a fragment of an asteroid the size of a grain of sand, as that grain of sand could pierce clean through the drive core of even a Reaper at faster-than-light speeds.
Now, a vast portion of their battlefield was littered with such fragments. While it was true that this action took away the Turian's FTL maneuvering options as well, they were the defenders here. If the Reapers wanted to get to the rest of Turian space they would have to get through them first. And if the Reapers wished to advance on them, they would have to do so at sublight speeds. Which played to the Allies strategy.
Lasky and Tibrinus shared a look before Lasky turned to Roland, who was looking back at him expectantly. "Initiate Phase Two."
Suddenly twenty purple-black portals crackling with energy phased into existence in front of the UNSC's Strident and Paris Frigates and Thermopylae Destroyers. The engines of the smaller ships flared, propelling them into the portals into the mysterious dimension of slipspace before they closed behind them with an anti-climactic wink.
The four Turian Cruisers near the Relay opened fire on one of the unknown ships, mass accelerator rounds peppering its kinetic barriers but not penetrating, proving that they at least had that layer of protection like their Destroyer and Capital ship brethren. The Frigate wolfpacks accelerated on forking attack vectors, trying to get in close with their Thanix cannons and Disruptor Torpedoes.
The unknown ship didn't offer anything in the way of counter-fire, but still it's kinetic barriers held strong. A number of Reaper Destroyers started maneuvering towards the Turian attackers, and Tibrinus and Lasky could only watch as their scout team was blown to pieces by the superior weaponry.
Still, they had learned some important facets of information. They seemed to possess no weapons, but had above-average kinetic barriers judging by the fact that a sustained volley from that number of Turian ships would have proven enough to take down a Destroyer.
The Reapers didn't even wait until the last Turian Cruiser's engines went critical, performing a group FTL jump a second before it fragmented into pieces. Four Turian Cruisers, twenty-four Frigates, and 2,560 sailors perished. The Reapers reappeared just outside of the still-expaning asteroid debris-belt, taking a couple of seconds to confirm their orientations.
After that short period of inactivity was over, a literal floodgate of Reaper strike craft opened forth. Hundreds upon hundreds of fighters started launching from the sixteen unarmed Reapers, forming a cloud that resembled a huge swarm of insects more than a formation of fighters.
"Numbers Roland," said Lasky, unnerved by the cloud on the surface at least.
A large holographic counter appeared above the AI's head, the final number settling at four-thousand four-hundred and nine. As if that wasn't enough, even more small craft started launching from the Reaper vessels that Roland had now classified as 'Carriers'.
Roland put up an image on one of the main screens taken with one of the Infinity's most powerful forward facing camera and ran an analysis.
"Troop transports," concluded Tibrinus right as Roland's analysis popped up on the screen. "I've seen those same designs at Palaven."
Lasky frowned in thought before regarding Roland. "Roland, exactly how many troops could each one of those sixteen ships transport?"
"Tens of thousands easily, possibly hundreds of thousands depending on how you pack them in there."
Lasky sighed. 'Figures…."
The troop transports, nine-hundred and thirty in total, formed up in the center of the Reaper fighter cloud. The mass of small craft then started moving, accelerating towards the defensive line on a vector that would take them well above the small Turian task force harassing the forward Reapers.
"Admiral, that cloud outnumbers our available fighters almost four-to-one," said Roland, the warning tone evident in his voice.
He was right of course. The Infinity carried a compliment of three-hundred and fifty Broadswords Interceptors and a hundred Sabre Fighter-bombers, while Skyheit's Valiant Super-heavy Cruiser and the two Marathon Cruisers combined fielded one-hundred and ten of Longswords, which while old by current standards, had been upgraded with shield packages. The Turians were only able to field six-hundred and ten fighters, and while that seemed like a paltry number given the number of combat ships they had in orbit it was easily explained.
Turians didn't rely on fighters as much as a race like the Humans did, their doctrine composed of large, rigid formations of warships moving in perfect concert. Their fighters were more for anti-piracy duty than anything else, vastly different than how the Humans used them much more aggressively as shown by their development of their unique Carrier ships. Though the Turian leadership had been shown the value of fighters and their large-scale ship base, their newest dedicated Carrier ships had been destroyed trying to protect Palaven.
Still though, that put the ratio high in the Reapers favor, even if the Turians and the UNSC had the superior fighters when it came to technical aspects. Out of the corner of his eye Lasky saw Tibrinus nervously shuffle his feet.
"Lasky, such a large number of Reaper fighters has a strong possibility of overwhelming and destroying our fighter screen if they engage in open combat," said the Turian.
"We'll have to pull them back closer to our ships for support," decided Lasky. "It will increase the risk to our mainline combat vessels, but our anti-fighter weaponry might help even the odds in our pilot's favor."
"With that amount of troop transports, its guaranteed that Reaper troops get to the surface," said Tibrinus with a fair amount of glum certainty. "Initiating portions of Phase Five early has the potential to wipe a large portion of that cloud out of existence."
"No," said Lasky sternly, shaking his head. "Our entire plan of attack depends on initiating Phase Five at exactly the right time. The main Reaper mass hasn't passed into the designated threshold and if we initiate prematurely we lose our element of surprise. We'll just have to trust that our soldiers will be able to hold. Roland, pull our fighters back."
His communications officers looked to him for confirmation of the same order, and Tibrinus just nodded grimly. He knew that was the case, but some part of him wished there was something more he could do. Observing the main holotable, he saw that the Reaper ships were beginning their advance through the debris field. The mass of Oculus fighters and troop transports rocketed ahead of the main group, bobbing and weaving through the debris field in their race to get to the driveyards and the planet.
"Captain Drake, initiate Phase Four," ordered Lasky.
"Right away," was the ONI Captain's immediate response. Drake and his Prowler Jericho arguably had the most crucial task of the entire battle: laying the nuclear minefield that would hopefully take a significant number of Reapers out of the game. However, while this job was the most important, it was also the most dangerous. They would have to rely that the stealth capabilities of both the Jericho and its HORNET nuclear mines would prove effective enough to prevent detection by the Reapers. The asteroids that had been blown up earlier had been done so with mining-level nuclear charges, in part to mask any potential radiation leaks that the HORNETs could give off, as they knew the Reapers had advanced sensors.
"Helm, position change. Bring about our starboard side. Gunnery, I want a Rapier scatter missile solution ASAP. Roland, Venus, take control of our pulse lasers and point defense guns across our four Capital ships."
"How many missiles Captain?"
"Every scatter Rapier we have."
Lasky was hearing was audio from the CIC on the front bridge being transmitted into his earpiece. The Admiral was put a bit at ease by Captain Micheals confidence and decisiveness as he gave his orders.
In fact, Lasky would have ordered the same thing. The scatter missile was a special subset of the standard anti-ship Rapier missile. Instead of having a single large warhead during flight the missile would split off into two dozen smaller warheads to allow for precision strikes of multiple important subsytems at the same time. Now however, they would be used to hopefully stem the tide of oncoming Reaper fightercraft.
As the Infinity fired its maneuvering thrusters to point its starboard side to the oncoming Reaper fighter swarm Tibrinus spoke his own orders, building off of what Lasky was planning. While the Turians didn't have missile counterparts to the UNSC's Archers, Rapier, and Howlers, they did have their own options.
"Fleetwide command," started Tibrinus, "Divert majority drivecore power from thrusters to GARDIAN systems. Enemy troop transports listed as priority targets." The Turian Admiral watched on the main holotable as the first Reapers caught up to the retreating Turian bait force, taking out nearly a third of their number in their first salvo, the magnetohydrodynamic beams slicing through their kinetic barrier like paper and gouging deep into their hulls. The surviving ships boosted their engines, attempting to buy themselves space and time while simultaneously goading the Reapers into pressing their advantage and further pursuing them.
"Fighter mass in missile range in five seconds Captain," alerted Hernandez. "Optimal targeting solutions calculated."
"Launch when ready," said Micheals.
"Sir! The fighter group is splitting up!" shouted Lewis, the Sensors Officer.
Indeed, as if sensing the missles that were about to be launched against it, each single craft in the huge Reaper cloud split off onto its own path. The holotable turned into a jumble of pure chaos in the space in front of the main defensive line. The mass had gone from the rough shape of a coordinated tidal wave to something that resembled thousands of tiny mosquitoes each working independently. Lasky was amazed that the Reaper craft weren't crashing into one another as a result of thousands of sudden vector changes; the pure computational abilities of their Capital ship control centers undoubtedly the reason for that.
"Abort missile launch!" shouted Micheals, realizing that his strategy was largely rendered useless now and would simply be a waste of ordinance. "Roland, Venus, it's your show now."
The A.I.s didn't waste a millisecond, opening up with the entirety of the Infinity's starboard anti-fighter arsenal as soon as they got within range. 25mm rotary barrel Close-In Weapon Systems, Dual-Barreled 50mm PDF cannons, even 120mm small-caliber deck guns loaded with fragmentation rounds, all opened up not only from the Infinity, but from the Yorktown, the Dresden, and the Ghosts of Onyx as well.
Waves of yellow tracers colored the space to the entire front of the defensive line, racing towards the approaching Reaper small craft at dozens of times the speed of sound. Almost every single individual slug, aimed and fired out of a weapon emplacement targeted by one of two A.I.s that could run hundreds of thousands of regarding vector paths, position predictions, ordinance expenditure requirements, target significance, and others, was on target.
The walls of tungsten slammed into the Reaper fighters, turning hundreds of them into so many piles of scrap metal. Lasky saw as the holographic counter ticked downwards rapidly, but then the fighter mass was on them. The blue pricks of the Infinity's pulse lasers and the opaque-red of the Turian's GARDIAN systems joined the fusillade of tracers batting away at the Reaper fighters.
The holographic number kept decreasing, but what Lasky found curious was that the fighters and troop transports didn't even attempt to fire at the ships within the defensive line. Instead, they did their best to outright avoid the warships, not even slowing down or changing course to take potshots at opposing fighters or warships.
Their single mindedness proved to be a boon, getting them through most of the withering fire with just over half of their number still intact. A number of fighters rammed headlong into Turian ships that were either in their way, or attempted to maneuver in front of them to cut off their intended flight paths and bring their anti-fighter weaponry to bear.
Tibrinus clicked his canines together as he saw one, two, four Frigates taken down by kamikaze attacks, either intentional or not. The Reaper small craft soon made it through the defensive gauntlet, and it was then when their true objective was revealed. The remaining fighters veered off towards the shipyards, while the rest of the troop transports changed course towards Despara proper.
"All fighters, override previous targeting directives, intercept bogeys headed towards the driveyards. Repeat, driveyards are defensive priority," ordered Lasky.
It took a large amount of willpower for Tibrinus to not counteract Lasky's orders and have some squadrons split off to the troop transports headed to the surface in order to try and lessen the numbers the ground forces would have to deal with. He didn't however, because they both had agreed that the safety of the driveyards was the larger priority. The Turian frowned, envying that Lasky had the luxury to think so objectively. Despara wasn't his planet, and it wouldn't be his soldiers shouldering the brunt of the Reaper invasion.
As the designated squadrons raced away from their positions Lasky watched them on the holotable for a little while. He thought back to his final year at Corbulo where his test scores had given him the option of entering Fighter School. He knew that piloting was his older brother's second choice after ODST training, but Lasky had never been interested. He had never had adrenaline cravings like Cadmon did, which is why he had chosen the Naval Command track instead.
Lasky sighed, thinking back to those days. Cadmon, Hastati squad, Colonel Mehaffey. Chyler. Though he didn't think so at the time, everything had been so simple back then. The only things he had to worry about then were passing his next test, or how his squad would perform in the next combat training assignment. Now the chief concerns on his mind were whether they were going to be able to stop a numerically superior force of super-intelligent, genocidal alien warships from destroying the entire galaxy.
"Sirs, Phase Four is complete," said Roland, waving to get his attention. Lasky snapped out of his revere, chastising himself for allowing his reminiscing to divert his attention from the battle at hand, even if it was just for a couple of seconds.
The Admiral's gaze shot to the holotable, the corners of his mouth turning with satisfaction as he saw that Drake had completed his mission, and that a large number of the Reaper warships had passed unawares into the detonation zones.
"Initiate Phase Five."
"All squadron leaders, this is FlightOps. New orders: Disengage from fleet-guard positions and vector to intercept Reaper strike craft approaching shipyards. Pursuit pathways and target packages en route. Good hunting."
Captain 'Maverick' Mitchell took a second to catch his breath. The Reaper fighter wave had passed over them not long ago, and he had managed to score three kills, two with ST/Medusa missiles and one with a short 35mm gun burst. However, the enemy craft's strange and utter disregard for the UNSC presence meant that one of those eyeball fighters nearly rammed into him. He was only still alive due to a last-second firing of his maneuvering thrusters.
Sure enough, said pursuit pathways and target packages popped up on his flight computer and after a second of study Mitchell tapped the holographs away, storing them into his computer. "Andúril Squadron, proceed on pursuit pathway and ready missiles for AI guided launch."
He kicked his Broadsword on a near one-eighty with some precise pedal and stick movements, the long, bulky view of the Infinity which he had been assigned to guard being replaced by the different dark grey bulk of the Turian shipyards, as well as the blue-and-brown Turian planet of Despara beyond it.
Once Mitchell aligned the fighter on his path he pushed the throttle to full, his inertial dampeners struggling to compensate for the massive G-forces brought on by the four engines reacting to their pilot's command. He noted with pride that the other twenty-three Broadswords of Andúril Squadron had mimicked his actions in near-perfect formation, and were now racing to catch the Reaper ships headed towards the driveyards along with hundreds of other fighters, UNSC and Turian alike. He knew he had a solid group of pilots, they had served well during the Requiem campaign and Mitchell had no doubt they would continue to do so here.
"Maverick, are there any squadrons being diverted to pursue the bogeys headed towards the planet?"
Mitchell's eyes flicked to the upper left corner of his helmet visor where his comms information was being displayed, and saw that this particular question was being asked by his wingman Andúril 1-2, 'Goose' Bradshaw over the squadron channel. With a quick separation of his fingers he zoomed out his holomap to show a larger portion of the theatre and after a couple of seconds of observation he determined the answer to Goose's question.
"Negative. All squadrons I'm seeing are heading for the driveyards just like we are," Andúril 1-1 responded.
"There's a lot of troop transports headed planetside," remarked 1-2.
"The ground-pounders will take care of it. Stay focused on our objective."
Mitchell noted with smug pride how they were quickly closing the distance between them and the Reaper fighters. He thought back to the briefing where the strengths and weaknesses of the Reaper 'Oculus' fighters were explained in-depth. Being they AI controlled drones that they were, they were capable of incredible maneuvers that would crush an organic pilot due to the overwhelming G-forces, even with their internal dampers. They had a better turning radius, quicker reaction times, and overall a much larger capability for evasive actions.
However, in Mitchell's opinions the fighter's weaknesses far outweighed its advantages. For one, it was slow. His Broadsword had nearly twice the top speed as the Oculus did. Also, while its main weapon packed a punch, it had a relatively short range and couldn't break through their shields with just one hit. They had nothing that could compare to their Medusa missiles, and even the maximum recommended range on their 35mm guns was larger.
Lastly, unlike their Broadswords and Sabres, the Oculus' were unshielded, and despite the advanced alloys there were made of UNSC lead, tungsten, and high-explosives were able to do the job they were intended for just fine.
UNSC pilots had trained thoroughly against enemies like this, drone-controlled fighters with high maneuverability. Since they knew they had the advantage in speed, durability, and ranged firepower, the basic stratagem that FighterCommand had thought of was this: Don't engage in dogfighting. Rather, make sweeping missile and gun runs at range, use superior speed to disengage and avoid return fire, then circle back and repeat.
A small chime sounded in his helmet signifying that they had nearly passed into their designated missile release range. "All fighters prepare for AI ordinance release. Arm missiles on my mark," said Mitchell. He looked at their timer and when it was two seconds from zero he said, "Mark."
1-1 thumbed the corresponding arming switch on his stick and ticked the remaining two seconds. When the counter reached zero, six of his twelve remaining Medusa missiles dropped from his wing-mounted pods and lit up, accelerating to its optimal pursuit speed. Multiple missiles launches occurred in every UNSC fighter present, creating a venerable swarm of missiles that equaled if not surpassed the amount Reaper fighter it was now bearing down on.
Mitchell could only watch as the distance between the two masses until impact as the missiles approached their targets, magnitudes faster than his own strike craft. The joining of both was almost artful, at least to Andúril 1-1.
It was truly a battle between Artificial Intelligences. In one corner you had the missile's precision guidance systems controlled by the UNSC AI's, and in the other corner you had the capability of the Reaper-controlled AI craft to perform evasive maneuvers. Both sides seemed to wait until the last possible seconds, then made their moves.
Reaper fighters and troop transports juked, jinked, and rolled in every direction, every which way in the most chaotic and severe example of simultaneous dodging that Mitchell had ever seen in an attempt to throw off their UNSC missile pursuers. In some cases the drastic actions were successful, missiles were unable to correct course in time to connect with their target and veered off course. Mitchell even saw a few instances of two or even three missiles crashing together in brilliant orange-red fireballs.
In other cases however the missiles flew true. Hundreds of Medusa's slammed into their designated targets, turning them into so many pieces of superheated, fragmented metal shrapnel and debris. Scores of stricken fighters and troop transports careened into one another from fatal blows, adding to the carnage already being caused by flying scrap.
As the proverbial dust settled Mitchell saw that roughly a half of the Reaper force had been annihilated. Good, it's nearly on even terms now, thought 1-1. They don't stand a chance.
They were about to cross into optimal attack range. "Andúrils, split into Flights and assume attack pattern Delta-2." Attack pattern Delta-2 referred to the specific strategy to combat the Reaper Oculi dreamt up by FighterCommand. "Stay with your wingman and don't get overzealous."
1-1 switched from the squadron channel to his wing channel with 1-2. "Picked out our first targets Goose?"
"Roger. Transmitting them now."
They were a group of four remaining troop transports along with three Oculi closeby. 'Maverick' flexed his gloved fingers around his stick. Now it got interesting. "Begin attack run!"
As he thumbed his missile release button an enormous series of strikingly bright flashes caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Holy shit, he thoughtrecognizing the profiles of the blasts, Nukes.
Despsara, Main Freight Line Station servicing Despara Orbital Elevator
"Titan-1! Three Reaper troop transports have gotten past our AA and are inbound towards your sector. Expect assault shortly."
"Three transports? We're going to be heavily outnumbered! We'll need reinforcements if we're to hold this position!"
"We are aware Lieutenant. We're working to see what other assets are available. Until then you'll just have to hold out to the best of your abilities. Command out."
Lieutenant Tarquin Victus bared his canines in a sign of pure frustration, drawing his Phaeston from the magnetic plates on his back and feeling it extend to its full length in his three-fingered hands. He took some deep breaths and looked back to his two squads of Turians, all breathing heavily after their all-out sprint to relocate to their current position from their initial defensive point after the Reapers made some unexpected moves.
"The enemy is approaching. We'll dig in here," he said. Turning his head back around he surveyed their current tactical situation. The room they were in was one of the transit terminals for the railway that ran throughout the entire shipyards. It consisted of two large platforms bisected by a recessed track area, with tunnels to adjoining transit stations on the left and right. The track was currently empty of any trains, and Victus' two ten-Turian squads had just exited from the door leading further into the facility. On the opposite platform there was a door leading towards the shuttle-bays and the space outside, which was where Command had told him that the Reapers would be coming from.
Victus looked left, then looked right. Available cover consisted of waist-high metal waiting benches, flimsy looking advertisement poles, and what he considered most fortunate, a few solid metal support beams running from floor-to-ceiling. He immediately eliminated the recessed train tracks from his positioning planning on the account of it being a deathtrap. One well placed grenade would annihilate anyone he put down there.
"Adrados, Simpas, Sanculus, Florigius. Set up your MGs on this platform, on those metal benches. One there, one there, both with overlapping fields of fire on that door and the wall to either side," ordered Victus. If he were the Reapers he would try and find some additional assault points other than the door, which would become a funnel for his trooper's concentrated fire. He all but expected them to blow out the walls to either side of the door.
"Sir!" the two pairs echoed, hurrying to set up their bulky crew-served.
"Second Squad, to the other platform. Sergeant Quinan, have your men fan out and find what cover they can, but stay out of the MGs immediate line of fire."
"Right away!" shouted the Sergeant as he led the way into the recessed track and started clamoring up to the other platform. Second squad followed close behind him, taking positions behind the available metal support beams and the waiting benches.
"Dardanis, Sobrinus, I want explosives around the opposite door and along the wall."
"Sensor activated?"
"Negative, omni-tool activated," clarified Victus. "Olymtis, Acanius, set up your deployable kinetic barriers besides those advertisement pillars, give us more options for cover. Move!"
His Turians went about their assigned tasks with the urgent efficiency that Victus knew one could only find within the Hierarchy Military. He took position behind one of the closest metal support beams and watched as Olymtis and Acanius' kinetic barriers sprang to life, providing near full-body protection for themselves and two others. Dardanis and Simrinus had made it to the other platform and were setting charges where Victus had ordered as quickly as possible.
"Second Squad, prepare for CQB," ordered Sergeant Quinan, and his soldiers switched their powerful yet slow-firing heavy rifles, heavy pistols, or scoped-marksman rifles for their faster-firing, fully automatic rifles and carbines, submachine guns, and shotguns. Victus nodded his head in approval, Second Squads proximity to the door meant that they would be engaging the approaching Reapers at distances of ten meters or less.
"Quinan, be ready to fall back to our platform on my order," said Victus, to which the Sergeant looked back at him and nodded.
"Sir, charges planted," reported Dardanis.
"Good work Corporals. Back to your squads," ordered Tibrinus. The jostle of movement quickly came to a halt as the Turians finished their preparations. Bodies were pressed against cover, safeties had been flicked off, fingers hovered near triggers. It would only be a matter of time.
Victus took a few seconds to go through the suit readouts of his two squads. They were all in sealed armor with extra oxygen supplies in case the Reapers depressurized their part of the station. He had just finished confirming that there were no problems when an impact shook the ground beneath his boots. Victus thumbed off his omni-tool and got a tighter grip on his Phaeston, pointing the weapon towards the single door while trying to keep as much of his body behind the pillar as possible.
There were some more vibrations, as well as what sounded like a distant, throaty roar. The Lieutenant started a breathing technique to keep calm that his father had taught him. In for two seconds - hold for three - release for two. He wondered how his father was doing. The last time he had spoken to him was right before he had to attend that big war council. Tarquin would make him proud today.
In for two seconds.
The door slid open to reveal a single Human Husk standing there, and it had gotten its mouth halfway open to scream before a blast from Sergeant Quinan's shotgun vaporized most of its upper body.
Hold for three.
A dozen more Husks rushed forwards after that one, but they were just as easily dispatched by the combined fire of Second Squad.
Release for two.
That when the walls exploded. Reaper breaching charges collapsed the walls to either side of the door just like Victus had predicted, creating a much larger area for entrance than the relatively narrow doorway. Luckily the explosives didn't detonate the Turian's own charges, thanks to their unique design of two different, chemically inactive substances only combining into an explosive one when the signal for detonation was given.
The Reapers poured onto them. A massive wave of Husks lead the charge, followed by ranks of the former-Batarian Cannibals with Turian Marauders bringing up the rear. Victus' two squads opened up with everything they had, the reports of sixteen different varieties of small arms and two MGs echoing through the terminal. The Reapers that had weapons returned fire, mass accelerator fire chipping away at cover and kinetic barriers alike.
The relatively unshielded Reapers were shredded to so many fleshy pieces, and viscous blue-black blood was spraying every which way. But for every one they killed another two seemed to take their place. Directed fire from a Marauder and three Cannibals withered down the barriers of a Turian taking cover behind a metal bench in less than a second, filling him full of holes in the next.
"Focus fire on the Marauders!" Victus shouted, sending a burst of rounds through a Cannibal's head, but not before it launched a grenade from its arm cannon. The explosive clinked to the ground a few inches away from Sergeant Quinan, and without missing a beat he kicked it backwards into the recessed train tracks and took off a Marauder's head with a well-aimed shotgun blast.
The Reaper's grenade detonated, most of the shrapnel being contained but some of it ricocheting off the track walls and the ceiling above back down onto the Turians. Victus saw as multiple kinetic barriers flared up, and how Sobrinus' already weakened one completely broke. The demolitions expert received a bullet through the neck not a second after, and he fell to the ground, blood spurting in massive quantities out onto the platform floor.
A different Reaper grenade which he hadn't seen detonated then, killing two of Second Squad's Turians on the left side. Victus thumbed his omni-tool and activated the explosives.
The far side of Second Squad's platform erupted into flames, the concussive force of the blasts causing his teeth to rattle. The Reaper fire immediately slackened and a cloud of thick black smoke wafted over the area, the perfect cover for Second Squad's retreat.
"Fall back!" shouted Victus, reloading his rifle in a practiced motion before letting another burst downrange. "Keep up covering fire!"
"Titan-1, this is Command! UNSC Spartan fireteam inbound from the east tunnels, be advised!"
"UNSC Spartans? What the hell are those?" Victus shouted back. Command didn't answer, probably busy with some other facet of the battle.
"Move move!" bellowed Quinan, motioning for his soldiers to get back to Victus' position. They started hopping into the recessed tracks and climbing back to the other platform while Quinen shouted 'encouragement' in the true form of a senior NCO. "Let's go you Spirits-damned metal-heads! Any slower and you - "
The Sergeant's words halted abruptly, and Victus soon saw why as he saw what he could only describe as a living nightmare. It was huge, almost as large as a standard four-wheeled transport, and covered head-to-toe in thick, black, plated armor. The torso was nearly three times as large as the lower half, with the predominant feature being the small, Turian-like head and the singular enormous, crab-like claw.
Said claw had Sergeant Quinan in its crushing grip, the Turian obviously dead, nearly sheared in half from the force that the claw was exerting. The Brute, if Victus recalled his briefings correctly, looked right at him with its beady red eyes and let out a deafening roar. The Krogan-Turian hybrid flung Quinan's limp body towards one of the MG teams at incredible speeds, the Sergeant's armored bulk impacting with Adrados' head and actually knocking him out.
"Shoot the fucker!" shouted Victus, mind not even acknowledging his use of a human curse as he dove towards Adrados' MG. Laying on top of the unconscious Turian he took his job as operating the crew-served, centering the aiming bars on the center of the Brute and slamming the firing studs.
Every Turian opened up on the Brute, most of the rounds sparking and pinging off of his heavy armor and doing nothing but annoy him. The monstrosity's claw darted forward faster than Victus thought it was able to and snatched one of Second Squad's Turians which hadn't climbed out of the recessed train tracks, breaking his spine and flinging him like a ragdoll down one of the transit tunnels.
Victus shifted his aim and sent a stream of slugs knifing into the unarmored head and eyes of the Brute, the beast staggering back and roaring in pain, raising its armored claw to act as an extra shield as it started to advance.
The Lieutenant was preparing to order a grenade volley when out of nowhere a beam of magnificent ruby red lanced into the Brute, melting straight through its armor and vital internal systems, ending its life instantly. The Reaper crashed to the ground with a mighty clang, and Victus' eyes shot towards where he thought the beam had initiated, from inside one of the transit tunnels.
From thin air four bipedal figures shimmered into reality, heavy-looking armor colored dark grey and accented with striped of crimson. One of them was holding a bulky, rectangular weapon who's barrel was still smoking, obviously the source of the killing blow for the Brute.
"Identify yourselves," ordered Victus, eyes scanning the other platform and confirming that there were no more Reaper footsoldiers to be found.
One of the figures stepped forwards and said in a female voice, "Spartan Fireteam Crimson reporting, Lieutenant."
Victus blinked a couple of times, processing. "We were told you'd be coming. Thanks for the assist."
"Affirmative."
"Titan-1, this is Command, come in."
"Titan-1 here, go ahead."
"Did the reinforcements arrive on time? Is your force combat ready?"
"Yes they did. We're down six men, including my First Sergeant, but we're still operational."
"Good. You're to relocate to these coordinates immediately to reinforce another squad repelling a Reaper incursion ASAP. Command out."
The channel closed, and Victus sighed. "Pack it up, on the double. We're moving out."
"Sir, what about the bodies?" asked Sanculus.
"We'll be back for them later," said Victus, not able to hide the sadness from his voice. "Well Fireteam Crimson, up for another fight?"
"Always," replied the female that had spoken for the group.
A minute later they were all sprinting towards their next objective. As they passed through a large clearing a bright series of flashes shining through the upper atmosphere caught his eye. Hope those weren't any of ours.