Chapter 3: Elysium Undone

One year post inter-universe jump

October 13th 2152

Approaching planet Elysium

Renamed by local warlord: Throne of the Goddess

Yoshika could barely stop shaking. This was not her first battle but that didn't stop her from being nervous. This was, after all, the first time she had gone into battle with the orders to kill humans. Let alone against other witches. However, it was necessary, because the self-styled goddess Nayar was determined to have the ability to enslave anyone into worshipping her.

Except witches.

The witches serving her were determined to actually be virtually brain-dead puppets. This, mixed with several of her followers committing chemical, biological attacks and attempting to commit a nuclear attack on Earth as well as other colonies, forced the Alliance to act.

Nayar must die. Those were the orders that the strike witches had been given. If they were to fail, the use of strategic ordinance on the planet was to be authorised.

And millions, possibly billions, would die. The only reason they even knew of this was because Admiral Hackett had told them, even though he was not meant to. The nuclear option was actually the original plan A for if the witches did not join the Alliance.

Shaking off the dark thoughts, Yoshika took a moment to examine her equipment again. In her hands she held a modified version of the mass accelerator used by Alliance interceptors. Normally too bulky and heavy for a human to carry, it was linked by feeds to a hybrid generator and coolant backpack, which if she was being honest was kind of awkward to get used to as it threw off her centre of balance. Her legs were currently only clad in the bodysuit that the Alliance insisted she and all of the witches wear, although from the waist up she was wearing a modified version of an Alliance light Armour which had the first working example of an infantry scale kinetic barrier generator.

Such was their importance that they got the very first production run of the shield generators, before even the special forces such as the N7s. Glancing back towards where the hastily installed drop bay was, her eyes swept over the rest of the squadron, their weapons and equipment all identical; there had been no time to put in individual equipment requests before deployment.

The hastily made nature of their guns and strikers was easy to see, The gun had no outer covering and the only consideration towards ergonomics was the fore grip, which was little more than a steel pipe bolted on and covered in grip tape, with the Butt stock, pistol grip and trigger literally having been taken off an M2 Assault rifle and been welded into place, the guns themselves having been stripped out of a spare interceptor. The strikers were little better, overly bulky with hastily welded plates over the vital components, looking for all the world like they had been the strikers the squadron had once used, stripped down and then hastily rebuilt with the engine of an interceptor welded on as an afterthought. This was not too far from the truth. Charlotte and Gertrude barely held off calling them abominations before one of the engineers making them made the comment himself.

Yoshika smiled, remembering the howls of laughter echoing throughout the workshop at that statement, burning off some of the nervous tension. Would've been nice to have some of that laughter now, only an hour from arrival. The noise of the cabin door opening caused her to look in that direction in time for Mio and Minna to step through, Mio's sword sticking up over one shoulder from where it was attached to the side of her power pack.

"It's time." Minna's Statement silenced the quiet chatter that had been filling the room up until that point.

The squadron quietly stood, donning their helmets, and began clambering into their strikers, the top of the strikers locking into their pelvic Armour to prevent them from sliding off or the witches from sliding out.

The racks holding the strikers flipped them over, so they were hanging from the ceiling, heads down towards the hatches in the floor, hatches which were now opening.

The frigate bucked and shock as it skimmed the upper atmosphere. Below, Yoshika could barely make out the flashes of light as other frigates and transports attempted to punch a hole through the enemy's AA defence grid, her heart hammering in her chest and her breathing echoing in her ears.

"Drop in 30 seconds," came Mio's shockingly calm voice.

Yoshika attempted to get her breathing under control.

"20 seconds."

She almost wet her dry lips, if it wasn't for the warning about biting off her own tongue that she remembered from her instructors.

"10 seconds."

Tightened her grip on her gun.

"Five seconds."

11 modified strikers lit up the cargo hold.

"Four seconds."

Three."

"Two."

"One."

"Drop."

Weightlessness, and then a rush as they accelerated straight down.

Corporal Williams panted, back pressed up against the rock column he was taking cover behind. Around him less than a dozen other soldiers had managed to survive the disastrous landing attempt out of somewhere in the range of 200. And that was just this single area, he didn't want to even think about what the other areas might be like. They had no AFVs, their frigate support having been driven off by overwhelming AA fire, and furthermore he was the highest ranking survivor. All in all, it was not a good situation.

"Corporal!" It was a soldier manning their only LMG, "Look!"

Williams stuck his head out round the pillar, before ducking it back in with a swear that would've had his mother washing his mouth out with soap. Nayar was walking towards them, their fire pinging off her shield like it was nothing, explaining the reduction in enemy firing. Not that it mattered with HER walking towards them.

With more calm than he felt he triggered his long-range coms. "Command, I have eyes on principal target, landing zone 12, Support requested. Over."

"Understood, support inbound, ETA 20 minutes. Over and out."

"20 minutes! Come on, we won't last two!" yelled their surviving medic as she attempted to patch up a man who was missing everything from the pelvis down.

Taking a moment to look around Williams began to pray, at first to God and then to whoever or whatever would listen. He prayed that his men, men and women he had trained alongside, would get out of this alive and with their free will. He begged the universe for something, anything to save them.

At that moment Nayar froze and looked up, a look of panic on her face. She jumped back; a wave of energy slamming down into where she had just been standing.

Williams looked up, as did everybody. Descending from the heavens were 11 figures clad in Alliance light armour. In their hands they carried guns too large for any Alliance soldier to lift, let alone wield as if they were assault rifles.

Nayar yelled something. In the distance one of the planet's few anti-orbital guns swung round to point at them. Williams' heart stopped. So this was how it ended. He closed his eyes.

There was a roar and then silence.

Strange, why didn't he feel any different?

"Corporal..." came a shocked voice.

Opening his eyes, he looked around in confusion. How was he still alive?

He noticed his fellow troopers were staring at something. Turning to look at what they were staring at, he felt his jaw drop.

Separating his men from the enemy was a shield of the same type that Nayar used, but where hers was faint and barely large enough for her to hide behind in battle, this one... this one was bright, a bright shining blue and as large in diameter as the cruiser was long. Sitting virtually dead centre of it was the massive slug of the anti-orbital gun.

"Are you a goddess?" The quiet question echoed across the silent battlefield. It took him a moment to realise that the question was said by Nayar of all people. One of the 11 descended in front of her holding a sword, a katana in one hand.

"No, and neither are you." With that said, the blade flashed and Nayar's head rolled from her shoulders as her body collapsed, along with the entirety of her army.

"Looks like Intel got it right for once."

Williams looked over to where one of the figures had descended.

"What Intel?"

"Intelligence believe that all the soldiers under her command were enslaved to her will. As such, it was concluded that killing her would disable her entire force."

Looking over again, Williams had to suppress the sudden urge to salute the commander floating next to him. He had only just noted the rank signature on her armour.

"What now?"

"Now? Now it's time for the cleanup and the paperwork," came her reply as her head turned to look over to where the wounded were.

Looking over to them, he saw one of the other figures leant over a wounded man, its hands glowing with unknown energies and the wounds healing at a rate that should've been impossible.

"Wha- how?"

"Oh? That? That's just Miyafuji's Ability."

He stared for a moment longer, before turning to look at the Commander.

"What are you?"

"We're witches."