Dawn of Titans

by F13D

There is nothing fair, just, or honorable about war. There is only winning and losing, the living and the dead. Humanity has learned this truth and has ascended to the stars. What effect will this have on the rest of the galaxy, one that has experienced millennia of peace? Will it be able to maintain the peace or will it be ushered into a new age of war? Let the end begin. A/U

11. Chapter 11 - Dragon Rising

12-27-2156, 0232 hours (Alliance Standard time)

Lowa rainforest

Shanxi

NCRA command center

The broadcasted warning blared ominously inside the compound. Alarms, geared originally towards pirate attacks or the ever-present danger of international – now interstellar – war now served another purpose: invasion from inhuman monsters; no one was safe. The planet-wide broadcast was a warning to the citizens of Shanxi of the evacuation. New Denver had fallen and General Williams was on the run, but luckily he'd managed to gain some intelligence on the batarians, mostly general information, nothing too specific. Elsewhere, on other fronts, the situation was a bit better. Baja and the Gozevech District were being hit hard but hadn't yet fallen. The entire combined human army was defending the colony as best they could, but the batarians seemed to be everywhere, tearing through the defenses faster than could be erected and bombarding fortified positions with their ships.

General Chu watched officers running around hysterically. He shook his head at the sight; dignified, reputable men, driven to frantic distraction by the unknown.

'Still, their task is important. The information must be sent.' He accepted another tablet, scanning its contents, then added it to the pile at his side. He contemplated the overflowing stack, considering its contents. In his grasp was everything needed to make coordinated redeployments of his troops, from evacuations progress and friendly forces deployments to enemy landing zones and established frontlines.

'Two years ago, I would have declared war, taking this colony for the glory of the NCRA. Now … Chu frowned at the sky … now I pray the Alliance will not abandon us, or if lacking even that, that we will not die in vain.'

Only the utmost self-control kept him from sweeping the mess off his desk in rage. The entirety of the Alliance army, the JSF, Enforcers, Spetsnaz Guard, and every Republic Army regiment had been mobilized against the batarian invasion. The civilians in the continent were being evacuated to human controlled territory, but there was nothing that could be done to stop the enemy raiders in the air. Evacuation procedures were being followed, but the monsters had killed indiscriminately, slaying the defiant along with the defenders. One report, buried in the pile, detailed how an attack had destroyed an entire convoy, killing over two hundred people. He pondered if the attack was a mistake, the enemy believing troops were being transported on the military transports instead of civilians.

'It could be possible. They are attempting to take hostages not kill them,' he thought.

More recent reports showed that school children had been ordered to take cover if the batarians got close enough, sending students to bunkers underneath the buildings. The evacuations were, to General Chu's great annoyance, taking far longer than he would desire.

'The only thing I can do is watch, and wait. Defend the innocent, and make the foul desecrators of my people pay for every centimeter in blood.' The unfortunate truth was that the evacuation required massive numbers of shuttles, slowing his military responses to a crawl.

After a few moments of thinking, he noticed an incoming call, from one Lieutenant Zhan Bo. Unfortunately, the alarm made hearing the subordinate difficult. General Chu glanced at his assistant, raising an eyebrow.

The assistant nodded, reading Chu's intent, and clicked off the alarm. Once the irritating noise stopped, Chu turned his attention back to the Lieutenant on the vid-com. "The situation is dire, as you may suspect. Batarian forces are burning through our defenses faster than we can retreat. We have made progress, but will require a great feat of strength if we are to succeed." Tapping a few commands on his console, Chu brought up a hologram of a suburban area located merely four kilometers southeast of New Denver. "Lieutenant Bo, I need Ziax evacuated. There are over two thousand souls in that sector alone. I do not need to tell you the consequences, should the batarians gain victory there."

"Of course, sir," Bo replied. "We are proceeding to Ziax now, but we're being met with heavy resistance."

"Not surprising based on what we've managed to have gathered. Alliance intel suggests you are going up against superior batarian forces. I suspect Special Forces, which is why you are getting a late Christmas gift, Lieutenant." Chu replied. He brought up a 3D image of a large tank. It resembled the popular Type 100 tank of the late 20th century, but was far stronger, carrying much heavier armaments and thicker plating. "I've requisitioned a Barracuda from the 32nd Armored. It should provide superior firepower as you proceed into Ziax."

"Shangri-La has a nasty hunger, sir," Bo said. "We'll make sure to use it effectively. If I may ask, sir, what's the ETA on the Makos?"

"Forty-five minutes. You're on your own until then, I fear." Chu replied. He centered himself, internalizing the conflicting emotions. "I'm counting on your people. Save as many as you can. If we can't save our own people, we've already lost this war."

"We'll make sure the enemy won't take it, Bo out." The connection was cut, leaving General Chu to deal with the mess occurring within his compound.

Outside a series of explosions forced the unprepared to cover their ears, as enemy aircraft dodged the compound's powerful defense grid. The remains of unsuccessful enemy aircrafts' were scattered across the woodland, abnormal yellow smoke billowing from some of them.

The entire compound was protected by an efficient anti-aircraft system, ranging from missiles to Gatling guns and auto-cannons, protecting the area from enemy bombers. A few companies of batarians soldiers had tried to take the fortress but failed to cross the half-mile of scorched soil outside the compound's walls. General Chu had worked hard, turning a once peaceful plot of jungle into a death trap. The rough terrain was hostile, augmented by fearsome predators dwelling beyond the kill-zone, extensive hard points in the base itself, and above all, a company of NCRA soldiers ready to defend the base to their last breaths. With the current siege of the colony, Chu had authorized any means to slow down the invaders, even if it meant unleashing any and all WMDs.

Chu scowled at the latest report. The enemy had launched large numbers of drop-ships, fighters, and bombers to New Denver. Since they've practically taken it over, Chu strongly believed this was merely a show of strength to those that still remained in that godforsaken city. He was already trying to manage the entire evacuation as best as he could, but even the large quantities of his forces were starting to become overwhelmed. Scattered around the main holo-projector were the constant visual result of reports being placed by his assistants. Of main importance were ones that listed the status of cities and settlements, some being besieged, a good percentage held by allies, others unknown, but the overwhelming majority captured by enemy forces.

Chu read over the data carefully. Each report was sent by allied forces stationed at those exact locations, each of whom had a different perspective, emphasizing alternating characteristics of their implacable foe. Consequently, each report helped fill in the vast gaps that he still did not understand of the new enemy's tactics. Still, so much remained a mystery. The enemy's objective was crystal-clear, however: to take as many humans as slaves as possible.

He grasped the hilt of the family heirloom at his side, the leather-wrapped handle. The blade rang softly as he drew it partially from its sheath, compressed steel edge gleaming with a bloodthirsty glint. Chu paused before sliding it home again with deliberate force. He had drawn the heirloom only when seeking the death of enemies. It appeared he would soon have the opportunity to feed it once more. His eyes narrowed at the screen, pinning the red dots representing his foe as they neared ever closer to the base. He supposed he should be honored; the batarians had labeled him a potent threat and had sent a sizable force to eliminate him. Chu clutched the hilt tighter, knowing what was to come.

'No more. I swear, I will save my people, or die trying.'

---

Tonto, 2 kilometers from Ziax

Shanxi

145th Mechanized Battalion, 222nd Company

A missile flew over Specialist Rodong Sinmum's head, smashing into the front of a house behind him. Trees and street lamps flew around him in all directions. He dove to the ground, covering his face with his gauntlets, letting the helmet protect the rest of his head. He looked up to see the batarians advancing on his position, shooting their now identified battle and assault rifles at the Republic army.

Sinmum's snarled at them. The batarians had many other weapons of different designs, like a harpoon gun, deadly for long-range sniping. The strange, versatile assault rifle they carried however appeared to be their main choice of weapon, firing accurate bursts in frequent barking attacks. Sinmum stayed down as bricks and rocks were chipped off the road to either side. Sirens from police cars blared loudly in the chaotic streets.

The batarians had moved fast, faster than NCRA intelligence could have ever expected by both land and air. They had bombarded several remote settlements; probably either thinking humanity was weak or not knowing the populated areas. From space, in broad daylight, they might as well have been trying to shoot a needle in a haystack. But in the pitch darkness, the batarians only had to concentrate their attention solely on areas brightly illuminated. What had once been a symbol of prestige and affluence was now a dreaded curse that attracted the vicious vultures of death.

The Barracuda rumbled past Sinmum, firing the rapid-fire side guns at the enemy-held houses, creating cover for those on the streets. The tank was larger than a Panther but still smaller than an Ogre. Unlike the other factions' tanks, however, the Barracuda style had been designed to operate in teams. They lacked the mobility, range, or durability of their counterparts, opting instead for numbers and versatility. While not the most impressive tank, it was enough to get the job done, blowing apart structures that housed any batarians with impunity.

It was confirmed through early reports that the batarians had massacred every single soldier, militia, and law enforcement personnel in a block that had refused to surrender, leaving their bodies and ashes to lie on the very street the 222nd walked upon. Others had been brutally skinned, their flesh literally peeled off of their bodies. Their corpses had been cruelly dismembered and violated or outright planted as a warning sign, hanging from trees in a twisted fashion, for those who attempted to defy the invaders. The crimson covered road seemed to blend with the NCRA's armor, only further highlighted by batarian blood. Only a few were spared, taken as slaves and awaiting a cruel fate. The sight was so gruesome; the NCRA had named the massacre 'Shanxi's Nanking'.

Even though Sinmum himself was of North Korean descent, he thirsted for vengeance on the four-eyed bastards for the atrocities they had committed. With reinforced commitment, Sinmum pushed himself to his feet, picking up his M-7 Lancer. The underslung assault rifle held an oversized concussive shot launcher, in addition to multiple extra tricks ready to devastate his foes.

Despite the killing machine in his hands, he was glad he'd grabbed some extra firepower before leaving the barracks that morning. His hip holster carried the comforting weight of an M-3 Predator pistol while an M-23 Katana reassured the small portion of his back, closed into a snug near-cylinder like shape. The red Dragon-class battle dress uniform he wore had titanium plating, layered with ceramic overlays for optimal coverage. The helmet was slightly big and clunky for his size, but it was thick and offered strong protection. Struck by inspiration, Sinmum activated the helmet's Intimidate mode, borrowed from their allies in the SGB, letting the visor slits glow a menacing red hue. Normally such a decision was solely for infiltration missions, but the color suited his mood. Red for vengeance. Red for death.

Sinmum, at a mere twenty-nine years old, had come from a prominent family on Shanxi that resided in Ziax. To say he was fighting for his homeland would have been a massive understatement. Unaware of the state of his family or if they were safe at all only increased Sinmum's dread, but he prayed they were well-sheltered. Nearly a decade ago, he'd enlisted in the intelligence section of the military, and had often chafed against the bureaucratic confines of his job. Eighteen months after studying the pros and cons of colonial duties, and with the hesitant approval of his family, he had been assigned to a unit on his home soil. He considered it luck at the time, now it seemed to be a curse.

Sinmum advanced, firing on all foes before him. The ammunition he wielded was not as varied as the batarians, unfortunately. Whatever rounds the batarians were utilizing, they were able to incinerate, freeze, or shock any of its targets. The Republic Army's rifles could only incinerate or bypass enemy armor, not nearly as versatile. However true to their time-honored strength, whatever the NCRA lacked in technological advantages, it compensated with superior numbers. Sinmum's and the rest of his Company's weapons stored vast amounts of heat sinks and, based on captured enemy weapons, maintained larger ammo blocks on their weapons than their batarian counterparts, a trade in which Sinmum was happy to take.

'If it's a choice between fancy flashes and an avalanche, I'll take the avalanche any day.'

A bullet flew through a tree which Sinmum was taking cover behind. He swore, leaning out, he fired a concussive shot at a magenta colored house. The shot tore through the flimsy walls, sending shards of the building material through the front porch and any enemy behind it. He smiled at the sound of pained screams.

"Squad, put suppressing fire on that house!" Lieutenant Bo ordered, gesturing at another structure. It seemed every house in the area was held by batarians now. Sinmum leveled his rifle, joining the rest of the NCRA group in at the fortified enemies.

Sinmum let off bursts from his Lancer, nodding to a squadmate he couldn't name. The squadmate opened fire with a Typhon light machine gun, sending an unending hail downrange. Sinmum used the covering fire and ran up to a brick wall near a front porch of a destroyed home. He took cover, only leaning out to fire on the enemy down the street. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Chang.

"You and I are taking that house over there!" Chang said, indicating with his finger to a brown colored home "You ready?"

Sinmum gave a nod, switching to his Katana shotgun. While the Barracuda and a few Serpents provided covering fire, the two sprinted from the brick wall, dashing to the next house. Both Sinmum and Chang entered through the front door, Chang kicking the door off its hinges, and were immediately met with two enemy soldiers. Chang and Sinmum fired, rounds shattering both enemy troopers' shields and punching through the armor.

Another two soldiers popped from cover, one from a wall and the other through a side entrance. Both Dragons swiveled and targeted the new combatants without pausing. Sinmum's Katana traced a line along the wall before impacting the closest one, wasting an entire heat sink before the batarian fell down. Chang merely fired a concussive shot at the other, the blast shattering shields and knocking the alien back. Before he could get up, Sinmum pumped another two rounds into the enemy's chest plate. The sight of maroon blood oozing from the batarian's armor confirmed the kill.

Both Dragons charged to the back entrance, avoiding the bodies lying on the floor. "Lieutenant Bo, we have enemy armor coming over the bridge!" a Dragon informed over the radio.

"Heavy Response formation: heavy infantry in front, everyone else in the back! Three enemy hover-tanks spotted. Serpents take care of them, Dragons cover them, watch for flanking." Bo ordered through the Company's network link. The sound of his own rifle firing was easily heard over the static.

"Damn it!" Chang muttered. He exchanged a glance with Sinmum, and both Dragons raced onto the street, the Barracuda passing by a few seconds later with a squad of Serpents in tow. Sinmum quickly re-equipped his Lancer, suitable for the sudden change in the combat environment.

The air was thick with the smell of heavy weapons fire, mixed with the light tang of human sweat and fear. The clattering of spent metal grains could barely be heard over the blasts of the hover-tanks, like a musical accompaniment to the thunderous chorus.

"Chen, fog 'em!" Bo ordered.

"Understood!" Sergeant Major Yumi Chen, the squad's female Serpent, barked back. From the squad's shared quarters, Sinmum knew that underneath her armor, she had more scars than anyone else in the Company. As if in acknowledgment of that badge, she packed an Aldrin Labs manufactured Typhon machinegun, M-3 Predator, and the feared FGM-90 missile launcher. In keeping with the Serpent tradition, her armor was thicker and emphasized a more intimidating design than the regular Dragon variant.

Sinmum watched as she led four Serpents through the streets while he stutter-fired on a squad of batarians attempting to flank the Serpents, managing only to kill one while the others took cover. "Chang, we have tangos moving on our left!" he shouted.

"Copy, suppressing!" A second later, the air was split by the iconic boom of an M-92 Mantis. True to its name, it devoured the head of its targets as a batarian rocket trooper was decapitated and another had a gaping hole where a human lung would reside.

The third batarian popped up, firing a concussion shot before immediately suppressing Sinmum. Chang was thrown back, his kinetic barriers just managing to absorb the force of the blast. The remaining batarian attempted to retreat under the cover of the chaos he'd just caused, only to have Sinmum shoot him in the back with a concussive shot of his own in a twist of irony.

A blast from the Barracuda's cannon turned Sinmum's attention to the street ahead; where he saw two hover-tanks being wiped out while the third managed to kill two Dragons before the Serpents exacted revenge.

"Move up, we have civilians to save!" Bo ordered.

"So we're choosing speed over quality?" Chen asked. Sinmum couldn't help but agree with her. These batarians were even more highly trained the previous ones they've fought. He would feel more comfortable if they just killed every batarian in sight, avoiding the risk of any survivors ambushing them from behind.

"If we don't get to the next area in time, then it won't matter the quality of our work," Chang said, covering the Lieutenant as they ran forward.

"I said fast, not reckless," Bo replied as Dragons and Serpents jogged down the street. "We still have to evacuate whatever civilians remain."

"How far is Ziax again?" Chang asked.

"Less than a klick west of here," Bo said. "Now move!" He dropped the conversation, leading the way. The Barracuda rolled behind them, covering their rear. "Sinmum, ETA?"

Sinmum looked at the radar on his forearm. As the squad's telecommunications officer he was responsible for maintaining maps, radars, and current imaging provided by drones … at least where human forces still maintained control. He even carried an additional UAV drone, though much smaller than the ones used for mapping and reconnaissance. One of its features was a silenced machine gun, a toy he'd enjoyed playing with in training. "Unless we run into some real trouble, I'm guessing that we'll be there in about ten minutes tops."

Bo nodded, motioning for them to follow him down the street. At first, the squad only encountered minor resistance, all of it easily eliminated. The Barracuda continued down the street, rumbling closer and closer to its destination. Suddenly, a rocket flew from the window of an apartment building on the left side of the road, smashing into the kinetic barriers of the Barracuda. One rocket wasn't a problem, but when follow-up volleys were fired at the same time the tank's kinetic barriers began to dwindle.

"We can't sustain this missile fire!" The driver yelled in a panicked tone. "We have to fall back!"

"Roger that, Shangri-La!" Bo replied. "Fall back, we'll take care of it. Don't take any unnecessary risks! Chang, Sinmum, on me! Everyone else, set up a staging area and cover the Barracuda!"

The entire contingent moved immediately, Bo leading his team off towards the apartment buildings, the rest surging forward, seizing the area. The tide of missile fire changed to follow them, rubble and debris from the concrete parking lot exploding against their shields as the trio advanced. Bo slapped a charge on the door as Chang and Sinmum stacked up a short distance away. The charge detonated and the trio stormed the entrance, immediately being met by withering fire from batarians guarding the doorways and columns. Assault rifle and shotgun fire were traded between both sides, ripping apart electronics, vending machines, and seats in what was once the apartment's main lobby. Sinmum took cover behind a receptionist desk, paused for a heartbeat, and then heaved a frag grenade down the hall. A beat passed, then a second while enemy fire smacked into his cover, and then the grenade detonated, blowing the walls, ceiling, and any surrounding objects including enemy soldiers.

The trio ran up the hall to the main elevator, only to find it destroyed, apparently by multiple explosions. The only other way up to the top floor appeared to be the main stairway, a death trap if the batarians had prepared at all.

"Well at least we're not in an environmental hazard," Chang said, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Our work is an environmental hazard," Sinmum grunted in response.

"Cut the chatter you two," Bo ordered, opening the door. Sinmum and Chang looked up the long flight of stairs before they started climbing. Fortunately, there were no traps. Unfortunately, there were many ... many stairs. The apartment complex was well over twenty stories tall, and the roof from which the rocket teams had been based was still a long way up.

"I can't wait to come back down all these stairs," Chang complained as he ascended the last double-back.

"If you wanted to sit behind a desk, you should have joined the Alliance," Bo replied.

"If I wanted to climb stairs, I would've joined a gym!" Chang retorted. He fell silent as the three NCRA troopers began stacking up at the top door. Bo once again placed a charge on the door.

"3 … 2 … 1, NOW!" The door was blasted in, sending a myriad of shards into the nearest batarians. The rest were caught unaware, stunned by the blast due to the unfortunate proximity to the door. None survived the NCRA Dragons' assault, their Lancers cutting down enemy infantry without mercy.

Looking at the gruesome handiwork, Bo called the Barracuda. "Shangri-La, the missile teams are eliminated, you're clear to advance."

"Copy that. Shangri-La advancing," a moment later, the massive tank rolled down the street below. With their work completed, the three NCRA soldiers returned back down the way they came, much to Chang's protest.

Once the three NCRA soldiers managed to regroup with the rest of the Company, they continued towards Ziax's entrance. As they neared the security checkpoint, they could hear the throbbing rev of a machine gun starting up. The batarians had managed to set up a staging area, the checkpoint opened fire on the advancing NCRA Company as soon as the bulk of their force became exposed.

"GET DOWN!" Bo ordered, barely dodging a few bullets as they clattered against the vehicle he was hiding behind. More rounds flew towards the Barracuda with massive force, but its kinetic barriers held as its main cannon rotated. Its deliberate speed managed to convey the same attitude as a supremely deadly predator, ignoring the pestering gnats hitting its flanks. It spat fire once, a line of smoke disappearing within the office the enemy machine gun was placed in. The office windows shattered, belching smoke and flames erupting in all directions, assuring them that there were no survivors.

Sinmum was the most apprehensive of the Dragons, he'd never mentioned it to anyone, but his family had built a bunker in the basement with mass quantities of provisions and weapons. He didn't know if they'd been evacuated, or if anyone there had been for that matter, but if his family was still inside he knew he had to save them. His jaw clenched in resolve as he joined the column, all continuing into Ziax. In front of them was a bridge that led into the neighborhood that was, much to Sinmum's relief, still fully intact. Aside from several cars abandoned on the road and driveways of multiple homes, everything seemed strangely normal.

The NCRA began setting up defensive positions while Bo reconfigured his omni-tool. When he spoke, it amplified his voice. "TO ALL CITIZENS OF ZIAX, THE NCRA IS HERE! PLEASE COMPLY WITH EVACUATION PROCEDURES!"

Sinmum immediately set off, looking for his own home. Walking a few blocks forward he turned right and ascended a set of stairs of a bright blue house. The home was perfectly intact, letting Sinmum's hope rise. His heart began beating faster as he knocked lightly on the door. "Mom, dad? It's me Sinmum!" he yelled, surprised he could get the words out.

There was no response.

Sinmum knocked once again, this time harder. "If anyone is in there … open the door!" Within a few seconds, he heard the click of the lock being disengaged. Instinctively he readied his Lancer, aiming it at the door as it began to open slowly. Once the door was open to reveal the person behind it, he nearly fainted from relief. Standing before him was his father, short brown hair with deep brown eyes and a slightly bent nose, staring back at him.

"Son?" His father, Tio Sinmum, asked surprised.

"Dad, are you okay?" he said, embracing his father in a hug. "Is mom okay? Areum, Bon-Hwa?"

"They're fine," his father replied. The older man peered past Sinmum's head, eyes glinting at what he saw. Sinmum glanced back himself; his heart rose at the sight. Civilians were slowly coming out from cover, the other members of his Company handing out supplies, urging the civilians to get into their vehicles.

'We won't be able to save them all, but we'll give them a fighting chance,' He thought.

Suddenly, a series of rounds ricochet off of Sinmum's brick sidewall. "GET BACK!" Sinmum ordered his father, pushing the older man back into the house.

"What about you?" Sinmum's father struggled to raise a pistol.

"I am a soldier. Get inside and protect our family!" Sinmum shoved hard, almost throwing his father off balance.

"Neoneun uli ileum-e yeong-yeleul gajyeowassda," Sinmum's father said. Roughly translated, it meant: 'You have brought honor to our name.' It was the greatest words any son of the true Korea could ever hear. Sinmum paused, and then gathered his father in one last hug, careful to not crush the man with his armor plates. The two men shared a moment of understanding, then Sinmum departed from his family. His father locked the door behind him, cognizant of the newly opened hostilities. Sinmum regrouped with his squad, taking cover just before massive amounts of rounds impacted his cover.

A large force of enemy combatants, all wearing slightly different uniforms than the batarians Sinmum had just fought minutes before, poured into the area from the north. These batarians had masks all over their faces, yellow orbs emanating from them. Their regal image emanated from their black armor with gold trims contrasted with the primary bronze colored armor of the troops the NCRA had laid waste on their way to Ziax. Just from the coloring of their armor, Sinmum could tell who they were.

"Shit, a group of four-eyed spec-ops!" Chang complained, taking immediate cover and trying to fire on the enemy.

"Hold here!" Bo ordered. He knew the immense casualties a squad-sized four-eyed spec-ops unit could inflict. Now the 222nd was facing a full platoon, augmented by a Company of similar colored allies, but with silver trims on their armor instead of gold.

No word of protest arose from the ranks. Vengeance shone madder red in more than one eye, the entire Company intent on taking revenge on the alien bastards. The memory of how their people's valiant defenders had been wiped out on different continents and were being in many ongoing battles was strong. The batarians had shown no mercy to the men and women of the NCRA; the 222nd would gladly return the courtesy.

Within seconds the area became a bloodbath. Soldiers of the 222nd called out to each other, every voice calling for heat sinks or assistance. The screams of the dying filled Sinmum's ears, making it hard for him to concentrate. Bodies, both human and batarian, began to litter the area. A virtual no-man's-land was created between the gaping fires of both armies. Two batarian APCs tried to advance, but they were stopped by the Barracuda's over-watch. The predatory tank simply rolled over abandoned civilian vehicles, crushing them beneath its massive weight.

"Chen, Sinmum get some altitude and cover the tank!" Bo yelled, pointing over to a public transportation bus. Both NCRA troopers complied, climbing onto the second story of the vehicle. The Barracuda was taking the majority of the fire, but its main cannon was firing, obliterating enemy positions as its kinetic barriers resisted small arms fire.

Chen and Sinmum, once in position, began firing on exposed batarians. Sinmum watched as three Dragons were lifted into the air, screaming as a blue haze swirled around them, before being killed by an enemy sniper. His tracking software followed the trail of the bullets directly towards the sniper's position, hiding on top of a tree near the north entrance of the suburbs.

"Shangri-La, this is Specialist Sinmum, I have eyes on an enemy sniper, in a tree near the north entrance," he said, hoping the tank could fire on the sniper. He used his specialized software to paint the sniper's location on the map sharing system.

"Affirmative, firing now." A round exited the tank, followed by its target being blown apart. The lack of enemy sniper fire was the only indication that Sinmum's actions were correct.

"Nice job, Sinmum. Now focus on killing the grunts," Chen said. Her stoic voice failed to indicate much emotion, the pinnacle of Zhen concentration. Typhon and Lancer fire were proving to be a deadly combination; several dead batarians lying on the street as a result. Slowly, additional fire was concentrated on their position forcing the pair to erect make-shift barriers.

"The manufactures should've really thought of installing a shield on the gun," Chen commented, focusing on exposed troops. Sinmum couldn't argue but pondered if peripheral vision would have to be sacrificed to allow for such an attachment on their weapons. He didn't comment on how the NCRA forces were capable of prolonging the fight, the constant trips Dragons and Serpents made towards his home only to return with additional armaments easily provided an answer.

Over the radio, the two could hear Bo's voice. "General Chu, what is the ETA on those Makos?"

"Lieutenant Bo, they are five minutes out," Chu replied.

"Roger. Recommending evacuation. We're outmatched General," Bo replied, strangely calm.

For a few seconds, there was dead silence on the radio. "Confirmed, Lieutenant. Do what you have to," Chu replied, before ending the conversation.

The exchange was barely heard over the raging firefight before the Barracuda, without orders, began rolling forward and firing everything it had. Multiple batarian squads pinned down by Dragon and Serpent fire died under the tank's advance, several by its massive weight crushing their cover. Small-arms fire ricocheted off its kinetic barriers, harmlessly bouncing off like a toddler on a trampoline. It rumbled onwards, blasting a path like a juggernaut.

"Shangri-La, what are you doing!?" Bo demanded, watching the tank single-handily destroy the batarians' positions. He didn't hesitate to take advantage of the move, using his Lancer to take down the batarians finding themselves bereft of shelter.

"Buying your men time and killing enemies of the NCRA!" the driver replied, the tank continuing on its path of destruction.

"Roger, that. Chang, take a platoon and evacuate as many civilians as you can from the houses. The rest move forward." Bo ordered.

Six platoons of Dragons advanced, under covering fire from a squad of Serpents, running past Sinmum and fortifying their positions as best they could. The bulk of the Company was placed near or around Sinmum, soldiers from both sides trying to use the neighborhood to cover flanking maneuvers. The majority of the firefight was spilled into homes. Not many still held civilians, but there were far too many to keep track of who controlled which houses.

Through his sights, Sinmum saw the batarians moving alongside an autonomous drone mounted with a strange weapon. Its hulking frame helped shelter a fireteam of enemy soldiers as they struggled to keep moving against the great tide of NCRA munitions hammering against them. "Lieutenant, I'm seeing the batarians moving some sort of large drone." Enemy fire and explosions continued to buzz right past him as he tried his best to delay the enemy advance.

"Any idea what it does?"

"Negative, wait … it's powering up!" Sinmum yelled, seeing the drone's drill-like gun beginning to glow.

The batarian soldiers worked frantically, directing the drone's aim towards the Barracuda before firing off a bright blue bolt mere seconds later. The pulse slammed into the tank with a massive explosion, collapsing the kinetic barriers. The tank's main gun spun, firing at the enemy drone. A thunderous strike exited the Barracuda's maw, impacting and destroying the mechanical contraption along with nearby enemy soldiers. Before the tank's crew could celebrate, another bright blue bolt appeared out of nowhere in apparent retribution. The immense force caused the tank to erupt in flames, killing the crew instantly.

"The Barracuda is down! I repeat the Barracuda is down!" Sinmum yelled. His software scanned in the direction from which the bolt appeared, revealing three more heavy drones being moved to the frontlines. Behind them came what appeared to be a crew-operated version mounted on wheels. He couldn't tell if it was a heavier variant or a lighter one, but quickly decided he did not desire to ponder the ramifications.

At his side, Chen activated her shoulder-mounted rockets, the helmet's targeting system locking on the nearest gun emplacement. Ignoring the rounds whizzing past her, the Serpent stood up firing her Typhon.

"Are you crazy!?" Sinmum shouted over the noise of gunfire.

"Dedicated," she answered back. The rockets locked on target, and Chen fired. Sinmum watched two rockets exit from her shoulder launchers, creating a smoke trail before they impacted the batarian crew. The resulting explosion glowed a bright yellow, probably the result from the power supply for the esoteric weapon. "That's how Serpents do it!" she declared in self-appreciation before going prone again.

"Damn right!" Sinmum celebrated. A loud boom caught his attention and he saw a faint smoke trail coming from the enemy's position before smashing near a squad of Serpents. "Enemy mortars!" he growled.

"Chang, how is the evacuation coming along?" Bo radioed, his voice growing slightly worried.

"With 2,000 people? Not as fast as any would like!" Chang replied incredulously.

Sinmum turned around to behold a hectic scene. The outlying suburb of Ziax was a myriad of chaos and disorder as a massive ocean comprised of civilians marched sluggishly out of the combat zone, most only carrying the clothes on their back. NCRA troops tried to maintain order, but it was nearly impossible as a fierce battle was occurring literally in their backyards. He saw a few unlucky civilians be claimed by the battle, their bodies lying abandoned on the street. With the enormous mass of people, Sinmum couldn't find his family. He did see hundreds of civilians being packed into doubled decked buses, before being driven off towards, what he presumed, allied controlled territory. That meant thirty Dragons were instantly depleted from the defending force, tapped for pilot and guard duty, escorting the civilians to safety. Several civilians managed to speed up the process by cramming as many people as they could into their own vehicles, following the buses. The vast, majority, however, had to walk.

"Sinmum, focus!" Chen reprimanded, bringing his attention back to the firefight. "Worry about the civilians later!" Her Typhon once again began its song of death, roaring a challenge to the batarians.

"R-right," he managed to croak out. He brought up his rifle, letting the calm earned by months of training flow. The Lancer cracked its triple-shot statement, living up to its name.

Sinmum knew the only thing separating the batarians from the civilians was the great wall of flesh of the approximate four hundred members of the 222nd. However, the superior training of the batarian spec-ops was slowly pushing the defenders back. The enemy seemed to be using biotics, selecting human targets and shredding them where they stood.

Sinmum bared his teeth, selecting his own target, unleashing a concussive shot and following it up with a Mozambique Drill from his sidearm; two taps to the chest and one to the head. Unfortunately for the batarians, the NCRA had an abundance of counter-fire. Several NCRA biotics attempted to create a barrier around the civilians, granting them a better chance of escaping; the enemy had no such restraint, apparently deciding to taunt the NCRA by destroying the single bridge leading out of Ziax. However, they failed to account for the resilience held by the civilians as they began treading through the neighborhood's river in hope of reaching safety. While the batarian's attack did greatly sedate the evacuation's progress, it did not halt it.

Sinmum could hear a yell above the shower of gunfire and explosions. "Someone get a rocket up here!" he heard someone say. One of the cars on the street detonated, sending bodies flying through the air. The sound of weapons firing was barely dimmed, even as several wounded began to cry out for a medic.

"Now damn it!" Sinmum then realized the voice belonged to Lieutenant Bo, who had unexpectedly taken position near him, firing into the batarian ranks on full auto. Even as he watched Bo break to deliver orders to one of the NCRA engineers, he was verbally warning several other Dragons of the enemy's advance.

"Watch the left! The left!" Bo turned to face one of the Serpents, who was activating his own shoulder rockets. "Try to fire on the enemy dro-" The Serpent suddenly fell, a sniper round penetrating through the front of his skull along with splattered brain matter.

"Sonuva-" Bo grabbed the dead Serpent's Typhon. "Keep them occupied!" he ordered, raising the dead soldier's weapon. The Typhon's ammunition tore apart any batarians unlucky enough to be caught out in the open as they attempted to shift cover. The enemy mortars were causing havoc within the NCRA ranks, without armor support they were practically defenseless as they continued to evacuate the area. Four defenders were struck down by enemy snipers, leaving a smoking hole in each of the targeted soldiers' helmets.

"Damn where is that counter-sniper!" Right next to Sinmum, Chen was evincing her rage and annoyance. It seemed the batarians had begun to collapse the erected barrier of her mind. Or possibly it was the fear of failure, Sinmum couldn't exactly tell which. She reloaded her Typhon before the hydraulic sound of the weapon firing vibrated through Sinmum's helmet. He was nearly out of heat sinks on his weapon, but luckily for him, every Dragon and Serpent carried several more on their armor.

"You know, I'm thinking right now would be a good time for the Makos to show up," he said as he tracked a running batarian, watching in satisfaction as the rounds cut the alien's legs out from under him. "Or, you know, any reinforcements!" Sinmum shifted targets, the red counter on his weapon warning him the heat sink was nearly spent.

"Planet's gone to hell, but at least we hold the great honor of ensuring our people's survival," Chen replied.

"Yeah well — fuck!" A sniper round planted itself right between Sinmum's index and middle finger, sending chunks of flesh flying. He held onto his hand, the massive pain slightly relieved from the medi-gel dispensing from his armor. He heard Chen laughing next to him. "What's so funny?"

She held out a hand in response. "Bullet resistant gloves, you gotta love them."

"Yeah? Next time I'd appreciate it if you could tell me where to find them."

"Hold your ground! They get past us, the civilians are at their mercy!" Bo yelled. Sinmum had to admit, the Lieutenant's impressive stature, not to mention sheer courage in standing at the front lines was doing more to encourage the defenders than even a full air-assault possibly could.

Sinmum resumed his task. Bullets found their marks, call signs were called out, and orders were relayed. The enemy advance seemed to slow down considerably. Unfortunately, even with their renewed strength, the defenders were weakening as their number dwindled. The batarians were fighting extremely well, considering they were outnumbered nearly four to one. The batarians fired great blobs of energy from their weapons, detonating on impact and scorching the area. Blue spheres of energy tossed men around like toys, while other cerulean bursts were creating a gravity field, picking up debris, bodies, and men before detonating violently.

'Damn it,' Sinmum thought. 'We can't hold here for much longer. We're starting to seriously lose manpower.' The last heatsink ejected from his weapon as Sinmum fired another burst of fire. He began to insert the extra sinks from his armor into the Lancer, internally hoping the ammo block inside his rifle hadn't depleted as well.

"Hold them off!" Bo shouted as he threw a grenade, the explosion detonating just shy of a batarian squad. The rest of the Company scrambled as he threw every asset he had to hold off the batarians.

"Fuck, dammit!" Sinmum cursed, a round impacting his helmet's visor being the cause. He pulled the Lancer's trigger faster than his heartbeat, ejecting heat sink after heat sink. The rifle gripped tightly in his hands as bullets ripped through the bus.

"Enemy half a klick on our right!" Chen shouted, firing her Typhon. "Sinmum, get the UAV up!"

The air was blazing with gunfire as the batarian forces continued to pound the area. There was an explosion somewhere behind Chen and Sinmum as a home collapsed on itself.

"Cover me!" Sinmum yelled. Taking out the UAV, Sinmum immediately began powering it via his omni-tool. Within seconds the small winged robotic droid sprang to life, its power signals and weapons at full capacity.

"Focus on the enemy mortars!" Chen told him.

Looking at the holographic display on his omni-tool, Sinmum guided the drone high above the battlefield to its target. Within seconds it was over two separate batarian mortar squads. Tapping a few commands on his omni-tool, Sinmum directed the drone to fire. A near-silent thumping vibrated in the air as the UAV fired its silenced machine gun, utterly decimating the enemy mortar crews. Sinmum lowered the drone slightly, its reduced distance between its targets allowing the drone to kill a few batarians. Before Chen or Sinmumg could celebrate, a rocket flew through the air straight at the drone. Helpless against the power of a batarian rocket, the drone detonated in the air.

"You have to be fucking kidding me!" Sinmum yelled.

"Calm down, Sinmum. At least we lighten the enemy's mortars." Chen said. A loud explosion detonated near in front of them, almost as if fate was taunting them.

"Apparently not enough!" he snorted, continuing to fire his rifle at the enemy.

The enemy was close, too close. Sinmum was a bit anxious, staring down hundreds of enemy soldiers that weren't even human tended to give one that feeling. With the final heat sink ejecting from his rifle, Sinmum switched to his Predator pistol though at the range they were currently fighting it wouldn't do him any good. He had a sudden urge to curse at the sky for the scene around him. Who knows how many families have been killed, how many lives lost, how many fates sealed and for what? For some alien's greed?

Before he could let his emotions take a hold of him, Sinmum heard the sizzling sound of a pair of Mantis gunships roaring overhead. At first, he believed his ears to be playing tricks on him, until two Mantis gunships appeared directly over the NCRA Company.

"This is Tiger-one to all NCRA forces in the area, don't worry we've got your back," The feminine voice of the pilot echoed through Sinmum's radio. Through his HUD he could see the pilot's surname as Fang.

For the first time since the battle began, Sinmum felt relief flow through his veins. He watched as within a heartbeat both gunships opened fire on the enemy forces. Four sets of forward-facing missile bays flared to life and hundreds of tungsten, armor piercing rounds lanced out from the gunships' M350 mass accelerator autocannons, splitting the air and leaving intense smoke trails in the sky. The batarians were merely halted before they expertly spread their forces out, making themselves harder targets for the gunships.

"Target the mortars!" Tiger-one ordered her partner, switching to a new set of targets. "Hit them hard!" Two seconds later, the gunships' missiles activated and the pilots shifted their aim with the help of their onboard computers, providing them with targeting solutions even as they shifted their aim.

The air cracked and steam traced a line between the gunships' guns and their targets as the discarding missiles eviscerated enemy mortars like the wrath of an angry god.

"Fire another volley, then withdraw!" Fang roared, the surviving batarians shifting their aim towards the gunships. The batarians unleashed a wild, uncontrolled volley of missiles at the gunships, the pilots trying to evade as many as they could while the gunships' weapons cooled down. Once recharged the pilots calmly aimed and fired another volley at the enemy even as explosive ordnance detonated wildly around them. Any batarian infantry caught in the way had various limbs from their bodies exploded into a bloody vapor, a series of red clouds tainting the once high maintained lawns. Others were simply incinerated by the blast.

"Withdraw!" Fang ordered to her partner, the engines on the gunships activating fully. The two gunships flew backward and away from the incoming rain of fire of many batarian engineers.

As both gunships turned from the battlefield, Sinmum saw a heavy drone, similar to the one that had destroyed the Barracuda, shifting its aim towards the retreating gunships.

"WATCH OUT!" Sinmum cried out in vain.

A duo line of bolts rose from the ground towards the sky, shattering against both gunships' kinetic barriers just as quickly. Both gunships' fuel tanks exploded as the electric bolts screamed against their armor.

"DAMN, WE'RE GOING DOWN. I REPEAT WE-" Fang's transmission was cut off once her gunship collided headlong into the pavement before erupting in flames. The other crashed into a house near the NCRA Company, the gunship's metal casing horribly twisted. Burning remains were all that remain of both pilots.

"FUCK!" Sinmum cried out in anger.

"Sinmum, calm down. We still have work to do!" Chen tried reasoning with him.

Deep down, Sinmum wondered if any of them would get out alive. He was nearly out of ammo, their cover had been beaten with tons of rounds, and to make matters worse a great many of his teammates lay dead everywhere.

"Damn right, the cavalry is here!" Sinmum heard the voice of Chang celebrate. He turned his head to a magnificent sight.

Dozens of Kodiak shuttles, flying low, made the ground shake in their passage. Makos, bouncing over obstacles like beach balls, were not far behind. A few Barracudas were also with the convoy, taking positions along the 222nd company. Sinmum guessed several bridge-launched variants of the Mako transport had been used to erect new sets of bridges into Ziax.

With a grief-struck smile on his face, Sinmum checked the focus of the armored assault and picked a vector. He injected several heat sinks from his Katana into his Lancer, renewing its lease on life.

The civilians were packed into the vehicles in a disorderly manner, trying to speed up the evacuation. The Kodiaks were the first to be loaded up, a few, unfortunately, being shot down. Regardless, the software told Sinmum that at least six hundred lives were evacuated on Kodiaks alone. Even as the civilians were being indirectly shot at, they continued piling into the Makos. In a single hour, nearly eighty percent of the civilians were evacuated.

"How you like us now, four eyes!? Chen, for once, seemed to have finally let her emotions show and was probably smiling underneath her helmet.

As if in response to her taunt, two bolts of blue light appeared from the cloud of dust, slamming into a Barracuda. It rolled back before it exploded, flipping into the air and smashing on top of an unfortunate Dragon.

"Back, back!" Bo ordered his troops. The two remaining Barracudas complied, rolling back while keeping up their furious barrage.

"They're aiming it this way!" Chen yelled.

Sinmum immediately tried moving but found that one of his straps was hooked over a piece of rebar protruding from his cover. "I'm stuck!" he yelled. Chen unsheathed a knife, cutting Sinmum's strap. Before he could get to his feet, he felt something grab onto his armor, sending him skidding behind the bus. An instant later a bolt collided with the bus itself, destroying it in an impressive fireball.

Sinmum's ears rang from the explosion, throwing him off balance for a moment. He quit trying to get onto his feet and instead crawled into cover. He looked around for Chen, noticing she was nowhere to be found. It was then that he realized Chen had saved him at the expense of her own life.

A signal came through the radio. "Lieutenant Bo, fall back from that sector. An enemy armored battalion is heading your way!" Chu warned.

"I copy sir, but we haven't evacuated everyone from the area!" Bo argued.

"Lieutenant, anyone that isn't with you right at this very moment is getting left behind. Now I am ordering you to retreat, am I clear?" Chu responded vehemently, causing many in the Company to believe the situation had gone dire.

"Crystal, sir." Bo gritted, clearly not pleased with leaving any civilians behind. "Everyone fall back! Fall back!" Bo ordered. "Red Serpent, People's Tank, cover our retreat."

"Roger that," one of the tank's driver responded. Both Barracudas took up forward positions, their massive armaments tearing into batarian infantry. The forty remaining Makos made an armored barrier, their main guns, and missiles giving the NCRA troopers cover to retreat.

On your feet, soldier!" Lieutenant Bo screamed, hoisting Sinmum up by his forearms and back onto his feet. Immediately Sinmum's legs began pumping as fast as his breath, his heart hammering inside his chest like a machine gun. His pistol was gripped tightly in his hand as bullets ripped through the air.

"Come on move! Just run and don't look back!" Bo shouted, both Dragons running faster than they ever thought possible.

Sinmum did just that, choosing to focus on the Makos ahead of him. The air was blazing with gunfire as batarian forces continued to pound the NCRA's retreat. There was an explosion behind him that caught his attention. Spinning around, Sinmum saw Lieutenant Bo trying to push himself back onto his feet even as his entire right side was riddled with shrapnel wounds. Rushing back to his downed superior, Sinmum bent down and wrapped his arms around the Lieutenant. Hauling his superior onto his shoulders, Sinmum began running towards the Makos as fast as he could.

"What the hell are you doing, Sinmum!? You're going to get us both killed. Leave me and save your ass!"

"No can do, sir!"

Another close explosion deafened Sinmum and nearly threw him off his feet, but he managed to maintain his balance. His ears began ringing once again, this time even worse. It was so bad; Sinmum momentarily believed he had gone deaf. He sprinted forward, ignoring the pain beginning to creep into his legs as he rushed towards the Makos. His breath was becoming ragged gasps, Sinmum's lungs fighting for every bit of air they could get. Less than fifty meters from the NCRA transports, Sinmum's hearing began coming back and the first thing he heard was a drill-gun powering up. Another bolt detonated just a few feet behind him. Pain erupted in his legs as shrapnel cut through his armor, nearly causing him to fall. Cursing, he pushed through the agony as he dashed forward refusing to give up.

"Hurry the hell up, Sinmum!"

Looking ahead, Sinmum saw Chang, alongside a few others, laying down a barrage of covering fire as they shouted and waved for him to hurry. Steeling himself, Sinmum sprinted forward with everything he had left, ignoring the batarians still firing behind him. Missiles flew through the air and exploded around the retreating Dragon, but Sinmum refused to die at the hands of the enemy.

Letting out on final yell, Sinmum pumped everything he had in his legs, only focusing on reaching the Makos. Within seconds, he reached the transports as two Serpents took the Lieutenant from his shoulders.

"Alright, that's everyone! Let's go let's go!" Chang yelled as he helped Sinmum get into the transport.

The rear hatch of the Mako closed as it was filled to capacity with NCRA soldiers, the explosions and rounds slamming against its armor seemingly distant and unimportant. The occupants felt the Mako revving its engines before it began moving, its tires bouncing against several war-made holes and craters on the road.

Sinmum shagged against his seat panting furiously, sweat covering his skin and fogging up his helmet's HUD as the war thundered outside the transport. A hand touched his shoulders and he looked up to see Chang sitting next to him.

"You're one crazy son of a bitch," Chang said before he began looking around for someone. "Where's Chen?" he asked.

Sinmum cringed at the question before looking down and shaking his head. Chang was stunned into silence at the news before he began smashing his fist against the Mako's interior repeatedly in a fit of rage. Sinmum could feel his squadmate's anger with each punch, feeling slightly responsible for Chen's death.

"Chang, enough!" Bo barked despite his wounds, calming the angered Dragon.

"I can't believe we won that," a timid Dragon said.

Chang snorted. "With respect private, we didn't win. We merely survived."

Sinmum couldn't help but agree. Even though they've managed to evacuate most of the civilians, hopefully, his family among them, they'd lost a lot of friends and had given up more territory to the enemy. All that was left was for them to return to base.

---

Lowa rainforest

Shanxi

NCRA command center

Outside, a dead calm hung over the base. Humidity, well over the comfort level of any sentient being, pressed down on the occupants like a damp woolen blanket. Explosions, once distant, now were clearly audible, even through the triple-reinforced walls of the Command Headquarters.

In the center of the compound, lay the General's office. The walls were bare white, the floors cleaned into a pristine sheen. Austere, would be a good word for it, as clean and antiseptic as the mind they housed.

Within those walls, General Chu stood watching the symbols appear over his computer screen, sending orders to different commanders. He made indecipherable grunts as he tapped away on his console. NCRA forces were falling back in what could be considered an orderly fashion, outnumbered now by more than five to one. The enemy had clearly switched their priorities, attacking weakened positions almost exclusively and avoiding direct combat whenever possible.

Allied and enemy fighters were dueling for supremacy over the area. A combination of Stingers and Slamhounds pursuit craft loaned from allies that no longer needed them, waged battles in groups and individually. Alien fighters arrowed down from the skies, raking fire across his infantry placements, only to be driven away solely by concentrated fire and sheer force of will. Humanity's own squadrons lambasted the batarian ranks in turn, sowing death on command.

NCRA Dragons and Serpents engaged in their own battles below, fighting for every square meter. Artillery platforms held long-range pounding matches, taking every opportunity to shell the forces opposing them. Infantry divisions, maneuvering to avoid the heaviest of the shelling, sought position after position. Their support, in the form of monstrous beasts of metal and fire, took turns ravaging their foes.

"We are going to lose many people," Chu noted. His tone was even as if he were speaking of a new recipe some might not appreciate.

"Indeed." Yao agreed quietly. He had stood by the General's side for most of his career, serving as something more than an assistant. Trusted errand runner, perhaps, or maybe bodyguard; yes. Yao was taller than most, towering over even the notoriously enormous SGB elite.

With expert skill, Chu realigned his men to meet the ever-changing threat. His infantry was placed in thick woodland areas, the massive trees giving them cover from enemy tanks and aircraft. His tanks and IFVs rapidly made hit and run attacks, hitting the nearest enemy convoy or forward base to sow confusion. They moved from one area to the next, never staying in place too long. Each level, each style, required its own strategy, a series of tactics designed to gain the greatest advantage. And it all constantly shifted over time, randomly changing in ways no single mind could fathom. At least, none without experience

Such was the complexity; that even Chu's legendary acumen was being pushed to the breaking point. He, who had trained under the greatest strategists in human space, had competed against them during war, learned from them during peace. The signs were obvious, to one who had trained three generations in the way of war. There was only one conclusion.

"They will amass tonight and attack under the cover of darkness," Chu stated.

His massive assistant knew better than to question the ancient warrior. He nodded in response. "What would you have me do, General?"

The General sighed. "Many things, but only the most urgently needed now."

Yao stood to attention, trying to straighten his already ramrod-straight back. "I am at your call."

Chu exhaled once. "Order the transports to leave. Those who have children are a priority." A cold stare met the assistant's gaze. "The next generation must have parents who understand war, or they will grow as a failed generation."

"Anything else, sir?"

Chu cast a down-work look, a heavy air surrounding him. "Yes. Yao. Prepare yourself for combat. I have tasks for you, and only you."

"Your will, my hands," Yao responded, showing his immense dedication.

It was the work of minutes to don his armor, the oversized version built specifically for his personal use. The plates were dark matte black, with crimson trimming. While he'd never officially been a member of the Dragon Corps, General Chu had ensured Yao received the same training, pushing him beyond the lofty standards by held by the group. It was a personal vote of confidence when Yao had received permission to wear the infamous Dragon armor; to wear it without permission was a risk of a death sentence. He had used it well, in service to the old General, on missions, no one knew of, or spoke about afterward

Chu stared at him like a proud father would his son. "Yao, I have no children. You are aware I never married, yes?"

Yao left the fearsome mask of his helmet open. "Yes, sir."

Clinking metal sounds made the young warrior look down. The sword, long hanging at the General's side, now lay on the General's palms. "Sir?"

"Take this. My family's sword has never fallen in battle, never been broken in defeat." Chu lifted the blade slightly. "My nephews do not have the capacity for what I am asking of you, and I will not ask my nieces to bear this burden. You have been my protégé, and I wish you to take up my sword after I am gone."

The sword lay between the two, an ancient weapon of war, now serving as a bridge between generations. Slowly, hesitantly, Yao reached out, letting one gauntleted finger brush the decorated scabbard. Even more slowly, his other hand reached out, gently raising the blade from the old master's hands. Withered hands dropped once their burden had been lifted.

The two locked eyes. "The stroke I shall give here shall be known as given to defeat the batarian threat. They have no honor. I will never be known for this role, that shall go to General Williams for his strength." Neither looked away. "He will win this war, and give our race a chance to recover before the next has a chance to envelop us."

Yao bowed. "You will never be forgotten. I will see to it."

Chu sighed. "Let history decide who has been forgotten. If I rest unknown amongst my ancestors, I will be as happy as if I were given statues in Beijing. Now, my final request: give General Williams a message for me."

Eagerly, Yao looked up.

Chu smiled. "Win."

Lieutenant Yao bowed once, spinning on one heel to leave.

---

Lowa rainforest

Shanxi

NCRA command center

General Chu tapped the blade at his side. It was not the family blade, no. This was a blade he had ordered for himself many years ago when he had been a forward-thinking young man, eager to make a name for himself.

Around him, the army he had forged, trained in battle surged like the sea. The humidity had broken in the storm, as he had foreseen, sending swift lightning through the air.

He smiled. The batarians had accepted the bait, taking it in jaws of steel. The estimates for enemy numbers had grown, nearly exponentially in the last hour. Given the weather, even their technologically superior aircraft had been forced to retreat.

'Good,' Chu thought, 'They will not suspect why our own fighters have retreated.'

He cast his eyes skywards, letting the rain wash over the highly polished lenses of his helmet. Unlike the Dragons, his own armor was sky blue, with cyan lenses glowing brightly. Everyone knew who he was, and his very presence gave strength to the defenders.

Outside the base walls, only a mere kilometer away, his men fought in trenches, resisting the oncoming horde with a courage that he knew would bear fruit. The batarians were throwing themselves at his defenses, using sheer numbers to defeat his low-tech supports.

Chu stalked to one side, neatly sidestepping a hurrying Company. Every stride he took was gauged for its effect. Confidence filled his soul, and by that confidence, he inspired his men. Many had guessed they were to die that day; lying to them would be counterproductive.

Ancient wisdom, hard-earned filtered through his mind.

'Pretend inferiority, and encourage arrogance in your enemy. Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory; tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat. The quality of decision is like the well-timed swoop of a falcon which enables it to strike and destroy its victim.'

He would add one more to the litany, recorded on the disk he had given young Yao before watching the shuttle depart.

'Let your enemy see what he wants. Make him desire it above all else. But when you give it to him, give it in such a way that it will destroy his desire forever.'

Explosions rocked the perimeter walls. The Serpents returned fire with rocket launchers, causing even more detonations.

Behind Chu was a massive artillery emplacement, one that had never ceased firing since the enemy had entered its range, glowed a brilliant orange before shaking itself apart. Chu regarded it disinterestedly. It had served its purpose. Now, by its death, it encouraged the enemy to approach even closer.

Mines laying outside the walls began their roars. A quick glance informed the grand Chinese General that the batarians had begun sending foot soldiers across the plain of death in lines, detonating the mines on purpose. He nodded appreciatively. 'Brutal, but effective.'

Wall mounted machine guns started up, telling him in ways better than sensors of the enemy's proximity. The dual-barreled koi-chan mechanisms had an effective range up to, but not exceeding, seven-hundred-fifty meters. A paucity of ammunition meant the range was brought down to a hundred meters, for maximum effectiveness.

The walls began shaking, quivering in response to repeated hits. Cracks began running down their sides, widening under the barrage.

Chu sauntered through the rain, seeking out one position near the center of the base. It was a special place, one he'd instructed being built personally, and then modified in the dead of night.

Crashing sounds made the ground shake beneath his feet, not hurrying his steps even a heartbeat faster. He stepped inside, and then sat down. The gazebo was ornately built, but extremely solid in construction. Soldiers raced outside the decorative structure's walls, launching a furious offensive to cover the breach. He could hear the rumble of armored vehicles, blasting at a rate he wouldn't have believed possible in his youth. A final image, sent from a scout at the furthest edge of his broadcast range, confirmed his gamble.

Thousands upon thousands of soldiers were surrounding his walls, tens of thousands at the least, probably more. More hover tanks than he knew existed circled the outer edges, adding their prodigious firepower to the rising symphony. Chu knew it was building to the final crescendo.

He waited for it. The walls fell around him, men and women died or were captured within his sight, but he did nothing. Their deaths would serve a greater purpose, one that would see Shanxi freed that much sooner.

At last, the fighting began to die down. Several batarians had attempted shooting him, but the soldiers around him threw themselves in the way, dying themselves before allowing him to come to harm. Chu noted their sacrifice, mildly anticipating the chaos resulting from his helmet's long-range video link. His present actions would be judged as callous, and so they were. They required a mind inured to loss, one that could perform calculations without guilt. He was such a man, and in time, perhaps his adopted son would be, but not after years of happiness with a loved one.

Two bodyguards were left now, protecting his flanks. Scattered fights across the central square were slowly dying down. Chu's own active lack of firing, plus orders he assumed were from batarian command, had left him relatively unscathed, especially with the sacrifices of his men to the foolhardier of his foes. The loyalty and faith his men showed on the battlefield reminded him of the much celebrated 8th Home guard Division of the NCRA. Their deaths would not be in vain.

A storage container, beneath the round table set in the gazebo floor, yielded a comforting pot of tea. Cold storage was good, especially for preserving such delicacies. Even in the midst of battle, Chu could take pleasure in tradition.

A batarian in more ornate armor approached. His bodyguards were heads above all others, each with more formidable-appearing armor than the common soldier. They bore weapons larger than the Lancer rifles of which he'd read in the reports, slimmer, deadlier in appearance.

The batarian came to a stop in front of the gazebo. His gaze swept across the structure contemptuously. "Are you this 'General Chu' I have been told to seek?" he asked boldly.

Chu raised a teacup to his lips, savoring the flavor. It was slightly incongruous, drinking tea in full battle armor, but it was a welcome sensation.

The batarian growled at him. "Do not keep me waiting, old man."

The teacup clicked against the saucer. "Among my people, the elderly are respected. It is sad, that a culture like your own is lacking in such politeness."

"Primitive traditions be dam—" the batarian's words died in his throat, almost literally. None of the batarians had seen Chu move, yet his sword was in hand, held against the batarian's throat.

"My bargain was not with you, messenger." Chu slid the blade forwards, cutting a thin line along the batarian's neck. "Send one of your bodyguards for the true recipient of my wealth, or you will die."

The alien's eyes bulged. Apparently, he was not threatened by his victims often.

'Pathetic.' Chu mused. 'If he were challenged more often, he might have had the wits to survive this encounter.'

One of the bodyguards moved back, raising his right hand to his helmet. Minutes later, another squad approached, this time centering around the gazebo with drawn weapons.

A larger batarian walked closer, without breaking the armed circle. "I am Major Kal'rin. I believe we have much to discuss."

Chu stood; keeping his blade level across the lower-ranking batarian's neck. "Indeed, we do. Before we begin, may I ask a favor?"

The Major laughed. "For surrendering to me and making my name go down in history, you may ask me for anything you wish!"

"Excellent." Chu drew the sword back, and then made a lightning-swift thrust. Choking sounds joined the noise of a body collapsing. "Thank you. Now, you wish to have everything I own, do you not?"

More respectfully now, Kal'rin watched the quivering body convulse the last of its life away on the gazebo floor. He looked up. "If you would be so kind." His tone was mockingly polite, but a glimmer of true respect was hiding in his eyes.

Chu lowered his blade. "Very well. My greatest treasure is here," he gestured at the gazebo. "It cost me a thousand lives to purchase, and I would gladly pay ten times that number for this opportunity."

A red light subtly ignited in each of the gazebo's four corners, the invaders blissfully unaware. They slowly began blinking.

"If I may ask, Major, or should I say, Warlord Kal'rin," Chu felt an amused twinge as the batarian's chest puffed out. "How many soldiers did you need to defeat me?"

"You are not a gentle foe," Kal'rin returned, almost genially. "I needed to bring nearly thirty thousand soldiers with me, and nearly a tenth of the heavy armor dedicated to the pacification of this continent."

His eyebrows lifted disbelievingly. "Surely not? This continent isn't worth a quarter of that number, why spend so many on a base barely a fraction of that size?"

The batarian exposed his teeth in a grin, "The orders I received were not fully legal. With your heard or corpse, they will be." His head tilted to one side. "I could have use for a man as ruthless as yourself. You spent your armies like water, trading lives for distance. There are foes beyond the stars that you would find most challenging."

Chu felt the timer in his omni-tool buzz warningly. "A most generous offer, but one I fear is destined to follow my own demise. Tell me, have you heard of providence?"

The batarian smirked. "Yes. Mostly from the mouths of those I have defeated from your kind."

Nodding, Chu glanced at the blinking lights, now more rapid in their iterations. "Good. My people have a history of that, from many different quarters of our homeland. One of the most well-known examples is what we call the divine wind." The lights flared green. "What our old tongues call, the shàng zhī fēng." He gave a smile at the alien, just as the ground began to tremble. "I win."

---

Kodiak shuttle

Passenger section

Shanxi

Yao stood on the edge of the shuttle's boarding ramp. It was still hundreds of meters in the air, but he had to see for himself. Below, the ocean heaved, reacting to the strong winds preceding the storm that even now swept the continent, but his eyes remained fixed on the one spot his mentor had stayed.

Behind and to his right, Officer Ki-Yun kept vigil as well. He knew it from the slight pressure her shoulder exerted on his, but he knew it also from the long talk they'd shared during the flight.

The dark sky remained motionless, save for the tiny specks drifting across its vast emptiness. Lightning flickered just over the horizon, illuminating the landscape briefly each time.

Then it happened.

A sullen yellow glow lit the clouds from within, splitting them as a shining beam of light surpassed the planet's very own atmosphere. Yao could follow the progress of the blast by watching the tree line sway, circling outwards like a droplet in a clear pool. He surmised the death of a true celestial dragon could be seen from space, indeed the light easily exceeding over a hundred kilometers.

Slowly, he raised the hilt of his family blade, touching the pommel to his temple. One last tribute, from a son to his father.

"Pilot set course for New Denver and avoid enemy quantum radars," Yao ordered.

"Yes, sir."

With one last look, Yao promised vengeance for his mentor and adopted father.

---

Jian military base, NCRA F.O.B

Bagni

Shanxi

Doctors, medics, nurses, and anyone else who possessed any form of medical training beyond basic first aid was running around the make-shift base. Sinmum saw them hurrying to treat patients and wounded soldiers. A good number of the injured were civilians, hit during the evacuation of other cities and settlements. Others were volunteers who had joined militia defense as their friends and families evacuated. Very few were actually trained soldiers from any human faction. The majority of wounded soldiers refused to be taken to a treatment center, instead choosing to fight rather than allow more civilians to be enslaved. Some of the injuries Sinmum had seen made him cringe. Several unfortunate civilians had been torn apart by metal pellets from enemy weapons, deforming and flattening as they impacted. Others were being treated for frozen limbs, third-degree burns and electrocution type injuries, from the strange ammunition used by the slavers.

As grievous as the number and type of wounded were present, many knew it could have been much worse. Entire cities and settlements on other continents had been razed to the ground by the aliens, those who had survived were taken as slaves. After being treated for his non-life-threatening wound, Sinmum exited the large medical tent, making his way past the secondary tents surrounding it.

He looked over to the motor pool. The sounds of plasma torches, arc welders and pneumatic tools caught his attention. Battered vehicles, discharged weapons, and spare parts were scattered across the yard. Sinmum could see Serpents running around, repairing vehicles and taking inventory of what weapons remained. Three Barracudas were being repaired, using others that were severely damaged for extra parts.

The base itself was surrounded by barricades, using sandbags, roadblocks, and even few spiked metal rods and electrified barbed wire fences. It wasn't the most technically advanced defense system, but the base's power generators were limited to maintain food and medical supplies. What defenses or batteries they did have was mostly anti-air. Even now, the garrison was on high alert, knowing the enemy could attack anytime. News had spread quickly of General Chu's death and as a result, morale was extremely low.

The sounds of tires rolling through pavement caused Sinmum to turn his head to the front gate, seeing a convoy of Makos exiting through the gates with a sizeable force. The drivers, what he could see of them, looked confident. The soldiers on foot and those riding atop the transports practically exuded bonhomie.

'If only they knew what awaited them outside the city walls,' Sinmum thought.

---

RCS Iron Clad

Battlecruiser

Private Quarters

The warm, well-lit room was reminiscent of quarters afforded to commanders but larger; it was spacious enough to accommodate an entire squad of sailors without getting uncomfortably constricted. For security reasons, the room didn't come with any windows open to the expansive void. Perhaps it was for the best, as one could easily become distracted by the wonders of space. The vibrant colors that highlighted the walls exterior had been pushed through personal funds, but Talal had viewed it as a worthy expense. It was ... comfortable, with both the temperature and scenery designed to match his species' biology quite comfortably.

As semi-reptilian bipeds, all raloi were cold-blooded, however, they had a remarkable aspect to their physiology that allowed them to maintain a body temperature significantly warmer than that of other reptiles. That was achieved by conserving the heat generated through metabolism via an intertwined meshwork of veins and arteries. The heat was then transferred through a counter-current exchange system, allowing them to maintain a warmer core temperature. Despite this impressive feat, most raloi tended to prefer the tropics, their natural habitat.

Talal sighed, forcing himself to move from the comforting spaces to the less-welcoming hall to the bridge. Despite the convenience, there was a cost to such luxury. Among the many privileges afforded by rank, there was the single right to command an audience with an immediate superior. Time was the discrepancy of course; a lowly foot soldier could not demand an immediate meeting with his superior. However, a sufficiently high-ranking commander could require a consultation with his or her officer, and successfully demand it be administered to instantly if the circumstances were correct.

The Admiral couldn't help but feel anxious, hoping his government was willing to hear him out before issuing judgment. Perhaps 'privilege' was the wrong word for it. 'Responsibility' or 'duty' might have served better. Should the reason for interruption be needless, position termination would be just the beginning of the unwise supplicant's troubles.

Admiral Talal, aboard the RCS Iron Clad, watched the recorded message. It had been received a few moments ago, its contents carrying a direct response from the highest echelons of power from the Confederacy.

There were the official seals running through the field, requiring him to provide proof of his office, over and over. The redundant safety features could be understandable if time was not of the essence. Yet again he entered a thirty-digit security clearance code, presented an ocular reading, and held back a sigh as the machine pondered the veracity of the sample.

'By the Five, if this machine requires another entry, I am going to turn it over to the cyber-warfare division and hang the cost!' Talal flexed one hand, talons whisper-quiet against the fabric of his gloves.

But then, joy of joys, the screen flickered. An elder rose on its surface, gray eyes signifying his great age. The flagging crest was yet another proof of to whom he was listening: The First Electore Dy'man Phaux. As the political leader of the Chamber of Tribunes, which was responsible for overseeing the Confederacy's foreign affairs and finances, any message from Phaux must be urgent.

"Admiral Talal, your message was a surprise, yet not unexpected." The old voice croaked. The inflection made a slightly guilty twinge run up Talal's back, but more in the fashion of disturbing a favored relative from their rest, not of doing wrong.

"Your information on the Humans, this 'Alliance' settled a debate amongst the Five quite succinctly. My thanks for that. The actions you have taken for the Raloi people are to be commended, something which will be debated further I am sure."

Talal blinked. Was First Electore Phaux joking with him? His casual tone was contradictory to his serious attitude and it was hard to figure out his true intentions. Talal briefly gave thanks that this was a recorded message and not a live feed; otherwise, the situation could have been very unsettling.

"The watchword, for now, is to observe this Alliance. It is encouraging to see a separate race with such a similar government system, such as life: great powers resting their daggers at each other's back while trusting a neutral party to guide them. Like the early days of our growth, they are yet watchful for betrayal and will pay for it in blood, I suspect." The statesman waved a talon negligibly, "The orders I have for you are simple. Aid the Alliance in any way possible. Delete all records of the Homeworld from your systems if you have not done so. The rest of the Raloi Sixth Fleet has been deployed to the human's colony to provide assistance. I am sure possessing only one battlegroup has no doubt made you extremely uncomfortable – "

Well, it hadn't crossed his mind actually. With the number of multiple first contacts and ensuing battle, the number of ships he had available hadn't been a major concern for him. The humans had proven themselves worthy of his trust and had welcomed him with open arms. But it was nice to be so well thought of unless the Confederacy was actually more worried about their first impression in the eyes of the humans and less with his well-being.

" – so, the arrival of another fleet will help put your mind at ease"

It most certainly would. He could always use more ships. While the sole report from the Raloi frigates still stranded within the besieged human system indicated the Alliance's highly advanced VIs were performing electronic miracles by continuously adjusting and readjusting the artificial gravity of every ship in the isolated flotilla every attosecond to maintain a zero time-space ripple within the asteroid belt, it greatly unnerved Talal at how exceptional the humans were in engaging in counter-espionage almost as if they routinely conducted such practices against themselves. He had been greatly relieved to hear the commanders of the Raloi vessels had taken the precaution of purging any critical information regarding the Confederacy from their databanks.

"I will personally be getting in touch with the Alliance so expect to act as our liaison. Best of luck. Hunt well, fly strong. This is First Electore Dy'Man Phaux, signing out." The recording then ceased, the image of his elder flickering out.

Talal turned towards his room's exit, quickly striding to the elevator nearby. The glass door slid soundlessly aside, allowing the raloi Admiral to step inside. He rose through the myriads of decks, tapping the floor as he waited impatiently. The elevator ride took longer than he would have liked and almost leaped out the moment the doors opened. He quickly made his way towards the bridge, the words of his superior capturing his full attention during the whole journey. It didn't take long for him to reach his destination, knowing the inside of the Iron Clad well enough to travel blindfolded. Looking up, he found the eyes of his bridge crew all locked on him, bright in curious anticipation.

He smiled. "We have confirmation. Full approval of future actions against the batarians has been granted with the rest of the Sixth Fleet coming to our aid."

No one said anything, but rising crests showed their enthusiasm.

"We will be depending on our colleagues," he continued, "to guide us home. Should anything happen to us, we must prevent any information about our homes from reaching the batarians. To that end, I am ordering a fleet-wide deletion of every mentioning of our homeworld. Every coordinate, every image, must be removed."

The response to that particular order was mixed at best. Not that he could blame them. It felt like cowardice, admitting they could be defeated.

Talal shook himself. No, it was prudence, and he needed to tell his crew as such.

"I know what you feel," he caught their eyes, peering into their very souls. "You think that this means failure, that a successful crew would never be asked to do such a thing. We are far from home, facing insurmountable odds, all for a planet that is not our own, for a race that barely knows us. Death and fear, for nothing." Talal lowered his arms, willing his belief to be transmitted by voice alone. "But, far from it. I have seen what you can do, what we have been forced to accomplish."

He moved to a view screen, where the human space station, labeled Arcturus, loomed. Its massive breadth dwarfed all of the Raloi counterparts, its heavy armaments, and defenses displaying immense strength and valor. Witnessing the extremes, the humans were willing to take to protect their people, an idea struck him. "Look at these humans. They are soft, with a hide barely strong enough to withstand a blade. Yet they build … not to wage war, but to protect their people from it. We hold a similar plan: to grow, to become great, to protect our own kin." The Admiral saw how his words doused his crew with the essence of life itself. In turn, it brought resolve to his own actions.

"Yet the ones called batarians would see us cower." Talal eyed his crew, their eyes telling him they would follow him to the darkest parts of space without fear or remorse. He wondered if he could say the same for the rest of the battlegroup if they would truly allow him to lead them again. Out of duty, certainly, but they had to want it. "They would take what is ours and make them serve. They have allies, we now know, with unfamiliar powers. Our people will not face this sacrifice, for we will not let them. We are warriors, those who will fight and die!"

Crest fully raised, Talal pointed out the view at the remains of the Sixth Fleet Battlegroup. "Our brothers in the fleet stand beside us. With their aid, this enemy shall never learn of our home! The humans have promised to strike back with their full might, and we shall travel with them. When we do, we shall kill ten aliens for every kin we have lost!"

He waited as whistles of approval started filling the chamber. "Will you fight!?"

The responding roar was better than he could have wished.

---

A/N:

To all readers, I thank you for your time reading and reviewing our story. My partners and I would like to highlight some of the most common concerns regarding the story.

1. Pacing. The slow pace of this story has been brought to our attention and the feedback has been phenomenal. What may not be obvious about this tale is how it has been developed. The Shanxi arc, much like the First Contact arc, was written in advance during the summer, and the pacing has been locked in for months now. This has the unfortunate effect of us being unable to accelerate the pace of the story, even if we wanted too. Since the arc has already been written to advance the plot in a certain way, I personally feel that cutting out pieces would be a disservice to both the readers, writers and the story itself.

Now the pacing for the next arc, the political arc, is being looked at right now, and alterations will be made. You guys have voiced your opinions and we have listened. Hopefully, the pacing will improve in the next chapter, or is already picking up in this chapter. With that being said, since we've publicly addressed the issue, we'd appreciate it if your time were spent noting improvements that have not already been covered.

2. An overabundance of characters. While it is true that there are plenty of characters on both sides, it should be noted that it is a natural phenomenon occurring in any cross-over. That is a big part of why so many chapters have been dedicated to Shanxi and why the pacing of the story is so slow. Each arc is focusing on a different set of characters, to breathe life into the universe of this fic. The main characters in the previous arc were, of course, Bonaventura, Dain, and Hackett.

In the Shanxi arc, the main characters are the leaders such as General Williams and those of the Big Four in addition to secondary characters the chapter focuses upon. This fic also focuses upon the enemy such as Toren and Ban and their mutual distrust of each other.

One of the largest contributors to detail has been getting each faction its own moment of highlight; in order to develop them. Other fics would merely bring the focus Shanxi to three chapters with many, many POV switches. We feel that style doesn't allow you to properly build up a character and hence, is the reason for our method of writing.

3. Questions: Reinforcements, or rather more specifically when they will arrive has been a big one. The answer to this question can be found in the earlier chapters, during one of Bonaventura's POV early in the story, however, I can understand if it got lost in the amount of detail in that chapter. In the next chapter, you will find the answer to this question and I urge you to pay close attention to Spencer's answer and the dates of each following chapter.

Trivia:

1. The conversation between Chang and Bo regarding the stairs was inspired by Ghost Recon Future Soldier and is another tribute to the series.

2. Sinmum and Chen being placed on top of the bus during the suburban battle was inspired by Battle Los Angeles. The batarian drill-gun was also inspired by the movie.

3. This chapter sees the intro of the batarian's best, the SIU and we get to see their skills.

4. The shoulder rockets on the Serpents was inspired by a concept in Ghost Recon Future Soldier that was cut from the game.

5. Sinmum carrying Bo on his shoulders and running for his life towards the Makos was inspired by Forest Gump.

6. If you haven't noticed Chu's mindset and tactics are very reminiscent of Sun Tzu himself.

7. The Raloi POV was actually added at the last minute to sort of mitigate the focus on the battles and to give us guys more info on our canon race despite not appearing in the main games of Mass Effect.