Chapter 16

(Mortar strike goes off behind him, Colonel Kilgore doesn't even flinch) "- Someday this war is gonna end."

— Colonel Kilgore from Apocalypse Now.

April 19th , 2216

Situated deep underneath a mountain, in the center of a base, upon what was quickly becoming one of the most heavily contested planets currently under Human siege, the Planetary Leader of Siler, Jonz Salf, was looking over the war front. He knew that there were six planets in Hegemony Space that were under attack by the Alliance, one had already lost more than half of its territory to the war mongers. He knew that only one planet - Sirn - had gotten reinforcements from the Hegemony's naval assets, but that had done extremely little on the naval front. The Humans dominated in space, their magnetically accelerated weapons simply did more damage, they moved faster, and even the Council's new, far more powerful, sensitive, and fine-tuned Kinetic Barriers couldn't hold up to a sustained assault from the Human Navy. Worse still was what the Humans did with these ships, once they trounced whatever navy dared to stand against them. The Humans were using a stacked approach: first they dominated the void, then they dominated the air, then they finally went to work on the ground. This approach was so impregnable, so perfect and simple that, aside from Sirn, only a few planets could claim they had more than seventy five percent of their territory still under the control of the Hegemony.

Unfortunately, Siler was not one of those planets. Less than sixty percent of its landmass had been taken by the Alliance, and more still was being taken every moment. Thankfully, ever since the intervention of the Hunters, the Hegemony's technology had begun functioning again, the Siler Protection Force could bare its teeth against the Humans properly. Where the Humans brought tanks, the Batarians brought Light Armored Vehicles; where the Humans brought jets and helicopters, the Batarians brought Gunships; and where the Humans brought Soldiers, the Batarians brought ungodly amounts of resistance. The shock had long since worn off, but the Awe was still present.

The Humans still had air and void dominance, which meant that they controlled the ground. Their soldiers were better equipped, arguably better trained, and they were better fed, ever since they had begun targeting Batarian supply lines. Both fortunately and unfortunately for Salf, outside of City Assaults, no reports had come in about the Alliance's SIGMA Operatives. The Alliance was either saving their super soldiers, or they didn't see this planet as cause enough for an Augmented Assault. Siler had reports that any Black Ops or Stealth assignment the Alliance had to undertake was being handled by their N7 forces, in other words their SIGMAs were simply not here. Salf, however, was finding himself in the position where he needed more and more readily available supplies of Hunters, but they were a finite source of special forces troops, whereas the Alliance's OD3 and N7 Special Forces seemed to be infinite. Any battle where the Hunters and the Alliance Special Forces clashed, was a pyrrhic stalemate, the Hunters used their skills and experience to fight the Alliance to a bitter and bloody draw, and the Alliance forced such casualties upon the Hunters that the Hunters couldn't possibly take them again. Salf's few thousand Hunters were dwindling to just over twelve hundred, and he knew that if he used them as a defensive offense, he would lose them all.

Thus came the meeting of the minds, he sat in this base, the most secure on all of Siler and most likely to be the final stand of the Siler Protection Forces, to discuss just what they would be dedicating their one thousand, two hundred and sixteen remaining Ghosts to. Salf sat next to the two other most powerful Batarian Men on Siler, Heiz Zahn, and Breck Shoen, the Colonial Defense Administrator and the Foreign and Domestic Relations Administrator, respectively.

Salf was the first to speak, Zahn was his target, "where do we stand on Human Assaults?"

"Ever since Siler's capital city fell to the Human Nuclear weapon, the morale of our forces has been plummeting. But the Hunters' continued victories against Human forces, and the recent restoration of power, both have helped morale and our defenses." Zahn explained, his pale skin seeming to go white under Salf's harsh, expectant gaze. "N- no continent has fallen in its entirety, though! But they have beachheads across all settlements and are using these places to launch their assaults. Wherever we can bog them down, however, is where we gain some ground, as without their momentum they slow to a crawl, barely able to break our defensive lines... Until they can call in a satellite strike, at least."

"I've been speaking to Khar'Shan about reinforcements… but we're a border world, sir, they're devoting their time and resources to Sirn." Breck added in, shamefully.

Salf scowled at the two, "so what we do have, is what we will have." He stated, with a nod. "Have the Humans found this base, yet?"

"No sir, but their aerial and orbital reconnaissance efforts have picked up tremendously ever since the Hunters' firebombing." Zahn answered.

"Alright…" Salf thought for a moment, he needed a plan of assault and it seemed clear that these two were as lost as he was, meaning he had to work on his own. The problem was, his only effective fighting force was his Hunters, but where could he send twelve hundred Hunters, that would properly strike fear into the Humans? This fear would have to be used immediately, for the proper effect, the most prospective action being a break in their defensive lines, because he didn't have to win this war, he just had to not lose. "Where are the Human command posts?" He asked, his mind going to a blue-on-blue scenario.

Zahn, however, shook his head, "the Human navy covers this. The camps we've seen sprout up amongst the surface of Siler are simply resting stations, and their beachheads are waypoints between their fleet and our planet. The camps and bases, while enormous, are designed to be temporary. They can set up shop in hours, and then take it all down just as quickly. Their central command posts are their flagships, and in the absence of that, the carrier under the command of the rear admiral." He explained, "and the former is protected by impregnable armor, whilst the latter can so heavily defend itself that taking it would be too resource-intensive." He was trying to stem the gleam he was seeing in the Colonial Chancellor's eyes, but unfortunately, he had the opposite effect, because here was where it clicked for Salf.

The Human strength came from their orbital dominance, their technology. But if his kind had this technology, they could defeat the Humans - at least, they could once they left the six worlds with Human slaves. Necessary sacrifices for the greater good, yes, but this posed a very significant problem: This was Human technology, their unbeatable weapons were designed to destroy their defenses, and their impregnable defenses were designed to protect against their weapons. It was circular logic, but given that the only weapons out there that could break their defenses or beat their weapons were theirs to begin with, it wasn't entirely faulty. If he could do this, if he could succeed where even the Turians failed, he could open a door to a path the Hegemony - perhaps even the galaxy could never exit: They could steal Human technology to do with it what they did best, reverse-engineer it and make it better. Ignoring the private favor they would gain from the Council if this plan worked, simply stealing one of their ships opened up a short-term opportunity: a surprise strike behind Human borders. They could, while the hornets were fighting, set fire to their nest.

Salf enveloped his hands together and rested his head upon them, thinking. His subordinates knew this look and waited.

Salf knew that either option, taking the Human technology for the Hegemony - and, later, the Council, or using it as a retaliatory option, would usher forth numerous opportunities for his kind. If they kept the technology, they could study it and destroy the Alliance, but that would take time and money that, after this war, the Hegemony would be hard pressed to have. If they took the ship and struck at Human territory, they could have an immediate, lasting effect: The Humans would live in fear, in their very homes. If they found a ship with nuclear armaments, the possibilities would be endless.

With a deep, determined sigh, Salf made his choice. A surprise assault, while it would bolster morale, was practically suicide, they had to steal a ship for study. At the very least, they could give this ship to the Council and gain their support, perhaps even gratitude. The question was, though, which ship? They couldn't take a Flagship, those massive, three kilometer beasts of a vessel held many a thousand sailors, and as such were heavily defended. But a frigate would be far too lightly armed, with little technology worthy enough to steal, and while a Dreadnought or Carrier would have the technology, they faced similar problems to the Flagship.

So their Cruisers... The 'Destroyers'... Thought Zahn, They would be the best bet.

They just had to take one.

"I want the Comm Buoy scans." Zahn stated, "and I want contact made with the Khar'Shan mock-up flotilla. We're going to steal Alliance Warships."

John Doe S1-1 was waiting. He sat in a Carrier's hangar bay, waiting for SIGMA I Alpha Squad to be called in to conduct their mission. He was already armed, armored, loaded down and cleaned up. His weapons were cleaner than ever, his ammunition deadly as it would ever be, and his armor as advanced as the Mk. I Titan could get. His polarized gas-mask helmet was the iconic SIGMA I mask, the SCBA-Looking armor-plated face-mask, not at all like the helmets gas mask the Twos would be getting, which were more aesthetically similar to World War 3 era XM40 Gas Masks. His helmet was pressurized and sealed against his face, its padding was still as fresh and as comfortable as the day he'd put it on for the first time, so long ago, and its HUD was still as reliable as ever. His mask specifically was one of the most recognizable, iconic pieces of Titan Armor and the SIGMA Program in general.

Titan Armor, it was the single most advanced piece of machinery the Alliance could produce for its infantry. With the constantly-advancing technology inside of it, it was as much a weapon to be used as it was a tool to be utilized, and the SIGMAs - who were forged into being weapons themselves - wielded them with a supreme efficiency. It was as much an image of the SIGMAs, as the SIGMAs were for Human infantry-superiority, entire armies had been known to surrender when their snipers and reconnaissance drones reported seeing the golden visor of a Mk. I helmet, or the medieval-knight-esque plate-metal armor of the warrior his or herself. John Doe S1, the very first SIGMA Operative to have ever existed, knew everything about his armor by heart, all of it being so meticulously grafted in to his mind to the point where it was instinctual, like muscle-memory, it would come to him before he even knew it was there. He knew what every augmentation in his body was doing to it, and he knew what every machine in his power armor did, and how it affected him. He had reasoned that he downright had to know know all of this, so he could tell what was going wrong, if something went wrong, and how to fix it on the fly. This pseudo-religious dedication to the understanding of his augmentations and his armor had set the bar for the SIGMA I's, all of them, without fail, followed in these footsteps, and this bar's placement would have to be surpassed by the SIGMA II's, when they turned eighteen and got their real augmentations, and not the watered-down baseline chemical/genetic augments.

Unfortunately for Doe, he was what was known as an 'Original SIGMA', which meant that he'd been a part of the three fourths majority of I's during the Second Contact War that had been the recipient of a horrible mishap of medical technology. His bones, which were almost entirely covered in extremely durable metals, which made them nigh indestructible, couldn't properly produce blood cells, which, in turn, forced the doctors to have to make an impromptu addition to the SIGMA I Augmentation Procedure, which essentially filled the enormous gap that the bones had left. The 'wrong augmentations' were still a black mark on the late Jason McGraw's long list of achievements, but so few actually knew, that the black mark had faded greatly, even the current Director for Affairs didn't know about the difference between Original and Modern SIGMA I's.

Doe could feel it right now, the dozen machines all through his body, working tirelessly to make healthy blood cells for him. It had an odd effect on him, it felt like it was harder to breathe, like the air in his lungs was heavier, more reluctant to leave his body. In addition, his bones were ever so slightly more apt to creak and groan when he didn't move for a while. All of this attributed to one thing, which his augmentations were supposed to cover, but couldn't due to the botched procedure: Doe was getting old, and his past mistakes were catching up with him. He would have to retire sometime soon, and that thought alone horrified him, even now, as he was left alone, sitting on a crate of ammunition in the belly of an Alliance Carrier, one leg propped up on the crates and another swinging freely below him. He knew that, if he retired, it would be a life of a wheel-chair and living off of the pay he'd gotten and never used, during his long life of service without leave. He also knew there was a second option, a slightly more honorable, less embarrassing one, he could die. He could simply bite the bullet in a firefight, and allow himself to succumb to his injuries. But the problem with that was, if he died, he wouldn't be useful, if he retired, he could come out, if only for one last mission, one final fight.

It was something that had been plaguing Doe's mind for days now, ever since that visit to Titan Medical Station, over Earth. But it would be a thought that would, like all other personal thoughts, be eclipsed by the needs of the Human race. For Doe, and for every SIGMA in existence, it was Humanity, Earth, the Systems Alliance, the Quarians, and then the self, in that order, in descending level of importance. Doe was legendary for his pride and devotion to his race, some of the tales that included enormous body counts weren't as false as many OD3's and N7 believed.

Doe pushed all of these thoughts out of his mind when his augmented hearing heard the sound of metallic boots clanking on the ground of the Alliance Carrier. He looked up, his HUD actively scanning his environment, layering the ground, walls, and ceiling in a small blue-white web, friendlies in a green aura, enemies in a red aura, and objects of importance or danger in a yellow or red aura respectively. He saw the two other members of SIGMA I Alpha Squad, Betty Slone S1-176, and Tom Burtston S1-281, walking to him.

Doe inhaled and exhaled deeply, his personal time was up, now was the time for war. With a feeling of an incomprehensibly heavy weight being placed back upon his shoulders, Doe got to his feet, and grabbed his rifle. He was ready for war, and as they made their way to the shuttle, he could only pray that his enemies were too. Unceremoniously, the enormous blast doors that separated the SSV John F Kennedy from the unforgiving void of space, opened, and the shuttle - piloted by Betty - took off.

"Recap." Doe stated, his audio scrambler not active, so his voice came through as deep and as human as the day it had been, when he'd been born.

"Command is pissed that Siler's got power. Already we're getting slave kamikaze attacks on our camps." Tom began, as he handed Doe an AI Disk. "So we're going in to show the Hegemony Forces on Siler what happens when you piss off the Alliance." He said, pulling the bolt on his enormous antimaterial rifle, to accentuate his point.

"Objective."

"Simple, S1." Came Alpha Squad's AI, who spoke with the tone tremolo of an old man, and as such they affectionately called it 'Uncle Bill'. "Intelligence from Alliance AI Construct Nikola has shown that there is an enormous gathering of Batarian Hunter forces and Slave Warriors. The Hunters plan to enter an Alliance Refugee camp under the guise of being escaped slaves, and when they're safe and sound, they'll strike." Uncle Bill paused, "we're going to strike the Hunters before they move."

"Rules of Engagement?"

"Try and at least take one Hunter prisoner." Said Bill, "but if you can't, just make sure as few slaves as possible die."

"Secondary Objectives?"

"Nikola said he was sixty four percent confident that the Hunters' Lead Ranking Officer had data that would prove the Hegemony's involvement with the nuclear weapon deployed on Siler City. Obtain it if at all possible."

"Understood." Said Doe, as he chambered a round in his SFR. "Operational Support?"

"The Carrier has appropriated us one Dragon Drone and one Turtle Mech." Came Betty's voice, as she handled the shuttle's controls as comfortably as an engineer would handle a wrench. "I've already got the UAV running stealth and flying above the target zone. One word and I'll start painting targets."

"And the UGV?"

"Waiting to be dropped from the Carrier."

Doe nodded, he only had one question left to ask, and every SIGMA knew its answer like the back of his or her hand. "What about Reinforcements?"

"What reinforcements?" Came the voice of a grinning Tom.

"We're not enough?" Betty asked, similarly grinning.

"Got to give the Suicide Leapers something to look forward to." Said Doe, as the shuttle began shaking, the tell-tale sign of atmospheric entry.

The rest of the shuttle ride turned into a quick roller-coaster ride of an atmospheric entry. Alliance Shuttles were designed to function both terrestrially and extraterrestrially, in atmosphere and out. They accomplished this in the mid 2130's by incorporating a World War 3 era helicopter design, and rebuilding it from the ground up. The ancient V22-Osprey had received a revival in the form of the Systems Alliance Transport Shuttle, which had helicopter rotors for aerial travel, and powerful thrusters for void travel. Under its own power, the ATS's thrusters could reach escape velocity, and its tilt-wing helicopter rotors could get it going to over 350 miles per hour. While the ATS certainly wasn't designed for combat, it was a force to be reckoned with by itself. Its armaments included a turret powerful enough to chew through tank armor in seconds, and a dozen high explosive missiles.

Doe, like he did with his augmentations and his armor, knew nearly everything about the shuttle. He knew its systems, its armor, its shields, and knew how to pilot it with the skill rivaling the Alliance Air/Space Force's best pilots. He knew that the shuttle's violent shaking was only natural, because it was entering Siler's atmosphere at speeds. He knew that Betty's calm demeanor meant that nothing was wrong on her end, and he knew that Tom's slow, calculated breathing meant he was simply readying himself for another bloodbath, on the level that only SIGMAs ever saw. Doe also knew they only had five minutes left until they touched down, so he bowed his head and did his own pre-mission ritual.

He closed his eyes, and exhaled a deep sigh. He could feel it, far off, he could feel the fear of failure, of weakness, of any possible wrong thing that could happen to him or to his squad. He knew that it was there, and that it would fight him like a bloodthirsty Krogan if he allowed it to, so instead of fighting it, he embraced it.

Five. He could feel the heavy feeling in his lungs increase tenfold, and the weight on his shoulders increase twice as much as that.

Four. He could feel the fear in his own augmented eyes, threatening to open them to a world of darkness in which his gun couldn't protect his people.

Three. He could feel the voices of fear slithering into his ears, whispering of dark things. They wanted his very soul, they wanted him to fail, they wanted him to know what it would mean to fail, and thus, to fail everything he'd ever known.

Two. He felt the stress of a lifetime of war and battle, creeping into his bones and stiffening them up. The lethargic, drowsy feeling that came with the stress was welcomed like an old friend.

One. Everything crashed down onto him at once, trying to break him, trying to kill his resolve and rot his soul. He could feel the weight of his pistol on his hip, and knew in the back of his mind that if he jammed it right under his chin, and pulled the trigger, the magnum round would soar straight through his brains and end his life, end the pain of war.

I'm done. Like the flip of a switch, with that thought the fear was gone. In its place was determination, and strength. He could feel his heartbeat, and knew that that alone meant he was still alive. He could feel the skin suit on his hands, and knew that that alone meant he could fight. He could feel the weight of the tactical vest on his torso, and knew that that alone meant he had the tools to fight countless enemies. All together, meant that he was a Human being, a warrior, the perfect warrior, and the first warrior of his class, ever to have graced the battlefield.

We are SIGMA… Thought Doe, as the shuttle's thrusters spun around and began burning in the opposite direction, rapidly bringing their break-neck speed to a slow crawl. We are gods. The thrusters deactivated, and quickly were replaced by the helicopter rotors, creating the iconically Human sound of a helicopter breaking the silence of the air. There is no one else… Who will defeat our cause. The Helicopter slowed to a hover, as Betty deftly brought it to touch down on the ground. And if you need us to show our proof… He looked up, the same determined look in his eye, behind the same golden visor that had been the last thing countless thousands of Mankind's enemies had seen. We'll show you our god damn boot. He, Tom, and Betty each got to their feet, as the ATS powered down.

Silently, the three got to their feet and exited their shuttle. A moment after they were introduced to Siler's cold atmosphere, they activated their tactical cloaks in unison. Doe's HUD immediately kicked in, outlining his body in a blue outline, and the bodies of his rapidly disappearing squad mates in green outlines.

"John Doe S1-1 Ready."

"Tom Burtston S1-281 Ready."

"Betty Slone S1-176 Ready."

"Alpha Squad, move out." Ordered Doe.

The Alpha Squad had purposely landed several kilometers from the target area. They had done this for several reasons, but the prime one was that helicopters, for all their power and all their finesse, were loud. Landing anywhere nearer than they did could have tipped off the Hunters, who had gotten a reputation for being the 'SIGMAs of the Hegemony'. While very few actually took that nickname seriously, the Alliance Augmented Elite did. Ever since they had gone up against the Turian Ghosts during the Second Contact War, whenever there was a rumor of alien super soldiers, it was immediately brought to the attention of both the Director for Augmented Affairs, and the Director for Defense, and then ushered forth a SIGMA response.

For Doe and Alpha squad, the Alliance simply couldn't wait any longer. Until now, SIGMA Presence in the Batarian War had been largely limited to the 'Designated SIGMAs' in the assaults on the cities and population centers. Only two planets, Torta and Sirn, had seen extensive SIGMA deployment. Here on Siler, though, the Alliance simply couldn't ignore the growing threat the Hunters posed, and hiding behind noncombatants had finally played their hand.

As Doe, Tom, and Betty made their way to the Target Zone, Doe used his suit's onboard computers to brush up on the Hunters. Their operations were largely classified, but no firewalls could withstand the full concentration from an Alliance AI, save for the firewalls created by Man himself. Hunters were much more akin to a fusion of N7 and OD3 forces, they had a primary basis in stealth, but were no strangers to heading to the front lines and leading the assault. Hunters had been the primary reason that many assaults on Siler had been fought to an utter stalemate, but what had Doe - and many generals and admirals in the Alliance - worried, was the fact that Siler was the only planet they had gotten reports of Hunters from. Hegemony databases clearly said that each colony world had a presence of Hunters, but only Siler had seen fit to deploy them.

Doe couldn't decide whether or not this was a good thing, and after they reached the borders of a forest's edge, he stopped thinking about it. They had been creeping through this forest for over a quarter of an hour, and its edge left them at the crest of a large hill. The grass, a dead brown color, was knee-height, and down at the base of the hill Doe could see what looked like a small town, not big enough to be a city, but not small enough to be called a village. It looked like a suburban population center, stores and food restaurants were littering the areas where houses didn't stand, and landing zones for the Sky Roads didn't carve out.

"What can we see from the UAV?" Doe asked his team over the radio, as he used his visor to zoom in on the village. From a twelve times optical zoom, which still retained the clarity and detail of a Sniper's Scope, he couldn't see anyone out patrolling the perimeter, or anyone walking anywhere, for that matter.

"Center of the town, in the parking lot of what looks like a strip mall. I've got a mass of heat signatures." Betty reported.

"Thermals second this." Came Tom.

"Alright, Tom." Said Doe, "I want you to set up on this building here, you'll be our sniper support. Keep an eye on our UAV." Doe indicated a small apartment building, he heard Tom respond positively and begin moving. "Betty, you're with me. I want radio silence unless in the event of an emergency." A pause, "we're moving now."

With that, SIGMA Alpha Squad went on the move. Tom would provide sniper support and overwatch from the rooftop of the apartment building, while simultaneously keeping an eye on the video feed from their Unmanned Aerial Vehicle, which Doe could just spot high up in the sky, circling their position. Betty would be with Doe as they moved right for the parking lot. The three SIGMAs' tactical cloaks barely shimmered in the cloud-covered moonlight, which made them look like ghosts in the night. Their AI was watching over all three of them, but couldn't help but notice one rather peculiar thing, which he voiced to Doe as they entered the town's outer limits.

"S1."

"Go."

"I'm not detecting any Batarian radio frequencies in the area." The AI reported, "nothing. Short range, long range, I can't find anything that suggests to me that they're communicating to their command headquarters."

"This is a black op, Bill." Said Doe, though his face was set in a scowl at the peculiarity of the situation, "they might not be allowed to communicate unless in the event of victory." He paused, as he and Betty cane to the corner of a fast food building, "keep me posted, though." He nodded to Betty, who rounded the corner, rifle raised, followed swiftly by him.

Doe and Betty expertly made their way through the town. One thing both of them found exceedingly odd, and slightly creepy, was the utter silence of it all. Aside from the nearly nonexistent noise of their footsteps, there was no noise in the town, none at all. Even as they got closer and closer to their target, there was no noise, no voices, no panicked whispering, no Hunters issuing orders, nothing at all.

Doe and Betty entered one of the buildings of the strip mall, both on a hunch and on the idea that it would take less time to go straight through the store, than going around it. What they found was more creepy than the empty city, the grocery store looking building too, was dead quiet, and void of any signs of life, save for the hastily cleared out shelves that held alien food.

"What the hell are we stumbling on, S1?" Doe heard Betty ask, as they slowly made their way through the store, suppressed rifles raised and fingers waiting to pull the triggers that would unleash dozens of bullets into any possibly hostile target. "There's no one here!" She whispered.

"Acknowledged." Said Doe, his tone saying he wasn't disturbed, but Betty knew him, and the clipped way with which he spoke told her that he was just as concerned and confused at this, as she was.

As they made their way to the entrance of the grocery store, a red flag was raised by Tom. The two immediately stopped what they were doing, crouched behind cover, and checked the flag. The flag was the one flag no SIGMA, no Alliance Special Forces Operative, ever wanted to see:

Houston, we have a problem.

"Should we break radio silence?"

"Check the UAV, if the situation was so pressing Tom would have done so." Doe ordered, as Betty activated the touch-screen tactical device underneath her armor's right forearm. Doe checked the UAV Feed too, and saw what Tom was trying to communicate to them.

Tom had used the UAV's Augmented Reality feed to construct a message above his sniper's nest, in the second to last floor underneath the Apartment Building's rooftop. The message was simple:

No Targets Available.

"Move to the target zone to confirm." Doe ordered Betty, after he flashed a green flag to let Tom know that the message was received.

The two hurriedly, but quietly, made their way through the grocery store. They made it to the front entrance, and on a single nod from Doe, exited it, their cloaks still activated and their rifles raised. Doe had expected to see almost anything, from Batarians torturing their slaves, to slaves revolting against their masters. He'd expected to see wolves in sheep's clothing, or perhaps the exact opposite. He had expected to see just about anything, except nothing.

What Doe Doe S1-1 saw, was nothing. There weren't any Batarians in the parking lot, there wasn't anything on the motion trackers, there wasn't anything, anywhere. Just a big, empty parking lot, save for the destroyed or parked sky-cars.

"Betty, check the UAV." Said Doe, getting to his feet and scanning his surroundings with his rifle.

"I already did." Said Betty, as she too got to her feet. "We are literally standing in the middle of an enormous mass of heat signatures…" She deactivated her tactical cloak to get a better, less obstructed look around. Doe did the same.

"Uncle Bill, are there any malfunctions with the Drone?" Doe asked, as he took a few steps forward, slowly lowering his rifle slowly into alert-carry.

"None, S1. I've checked six times already." A pause, "seven. None."

"Was it hacked? Perhaps we're being fed a bad feed?"

"I detected no intrusions upon the drone's control or camera feeds. We're simply being shown ghosts."

On a hunch, Doe reached his left hand out, his right hand bracing his rifle against his armored thigh. He thought he'd feel an invisible Batarian, but he only felt air. Betty did the same, and she too didn't feel anything. Neither of them saw the telltale shimmer of a tactical cloak, or the dead giveaway of shadows on the ground. There simply wasn't anyone here.

Tom raised a yellow flag; Doe knew what he meant: Foul Play. He couldn't think of who would have done something like this, though, did the Batarians know, and flee? If so, why were there still heat signatures?"

"Betty… Are there any machines on the ground that could fool a UAV's cameras?" Doe asked on a hunch.

"Nothing. I've been scanning the ground for the entire time we've been out here." She said, as she followed Doe further out into the open. "Nothing's here that could -" They both were frozen when she, Doe, and Tom each saw the motion trackers light up. But instead of red, the trackers showed the green dots that denoted friendlies.

On the VR Field, Tom quickly sent them a notification beacon, and the two SIGMAs on the ground whirled around, to be met with another SIGMA Squad, similarly dropping their tactical cloaks. The three man squad hadn't elected to drop a sniper in a building, but they were similarly equipped as Alpha Squad.

"Luna!" Doe called out.

"Armstrong." Called the other squad leader.

"What's Omega Squad doing here?" Doe called out, lowering his rifle and marching over to the other three SIGMAs.

"We were told a few squads of N7 had gone missing. Are you our backup?"

"We were told there were Batarian Hunters holding -" Another Notification Beacon, three more green dots, and then a loud voice, obviously amplified by his suit's external speakers.

"Luna!" He heard the voice shout.

"Armstrong!" Doe said instantly.

Three more SIGMAs popped their heads out and deactivated their cloaks. In seconds, eight SIGMAs were standing in the middle of a dead, empty parking lot.

"What are you doing here" Doe asked the newcomers.

"Reports of three SIGMA Squads gone missing in the area."

Doe frowned as something clicked in the back of his head, "One." Doe pointed to himself and Betty, "two." He pointed to Omega Squad, "three." He pointed to the newcomers.

"This doesn't bode well." Almost everyone was scanning rooftops and horizons, looking for ambushers.

It only took Doe a moment of deliberation before he decided he'd face the repercussions of breaking radio silence, and he flipped on his long-range. "Breaking radio silence." He announced, before he brought his fingers to the nook just under the right side of his jaw.

"Command, this is John Doe S1 -" Doe was rewarded with a horrifyingly loud squelching sound.

"Comms jammed!" Betty was getting nervous now.

Doe wasn't entirely sure, he switched to the local short-wave. "Tom."

"Yes Commander?" Came Tom.

"Sitrep." The senior SIGMA ordered, before he looked to Betty. "Comms not jammed. Something's wrong here."

"No clue what to make of this. Everything screams ambush, but I'm not getting anything. I had to actually hack my way through the UAV's firewalls to switch off its thermal optics. All I see is you and the other squads." Tom reported.

"This isn't good." Said Omega Squad's leader.

"Can you see anything up there?" Doe asked, turning to look at Tom, who could only be identified by the glint of his rifle's scope, as it scanned the town.

"Nada." Said Tom, "can't see anything except storm clouds."

"Uncle Bill, anything useful?"

"I cannot ascertain as to why our long range communications have been knocked out. I detect no signal jammers within eight kilometers of our position. Nothing on the motion trackers save for SIGMA Omega Squads and… The newcomers."

"Alpha Company, Dagger 2-6."

"Three SIGMA Squads, three different objectives, same operational zone." Said Doe, looking up to the sky, as if looking there would give him the answers he needed.

All he saw however, were the dark orange clouds, thick with the collected moisture from - "MOVE!" Doe shouted as he recognized the telltale signs of a missile strike heading their way.

Doe grabbed Betty by the arm and the two were sprinting in unison in seconds. It didn't even register for the other SIGMA's what he'd said until the two were already sprinting away. They didn't hesitate when they saw the orange glow intensify, and they too ran as fast as they possibly could.

"John, impact in seven seconds!" Uncle Bill informed him.

"Tom, get out of there!" Shouted the sprinting SIGMA.

"John, I'm detecting a radiation spike! This missile is nuclear!"

"RUN!" Doe should have seen it coming, the Batarians had already glassed one city, and that one was filled with a few thousand marines and soldiers. Now they had nine of the best SIGMA I's available, of course they wouldn't take any chances.

Still sprinting, Doe looked behind him, the missile had just breached the cloud barrier, but to Doe's horror, he recognized it. It wasn't Batarian, it was Alliance. What was hurtling towards the ground was a Human Weapon of Mass Destruction; Doe only saw two reasons for this: Accidental Launch, or Rebel Weapon. Neither one was good, but both had the same effect: They couldn't outrun this. No species in the galaxy knew nukes like the Humans did, and therefore, no species in the galaxy could properly replicate the Alliance Nuclear Arsenal's deadly effects. The few thousand Human forces that had escaped Siler City had been running from a Batarian bomb, and they had been given a heads up, so they had all the odds stacked for them; but them? They had less than seven seconds to run, and a Human nuke to try and evade.

They wouldn't make it. Doe knew this.

But he also knew he'd be damned if he didn't try everything he could. With a deep breath, Doe stopped running. "Shields!" He roared to his compatriots, who had stopped fleeing when they'd noticed his halt.

"John, what are you -" Uncle Bill began, but Doe silenced him by magnetically clamping his rifle onto his back, and for the first time, he activated his Shield Hardener, soon, so did the similarly thinking Betty, Omega Squad, Tom, and Dagger 2-6.

Doe was facing ground zero, his feet braced against the shockwave to come, and his arms crossed in an 'X' in front of his helmet. In a half second, his entire suit was enveloped in a glowing cloak of golden-orange protective energy. In another half second, the nuclear weapon detonated just above the ground it was hurtling towards. The immobile SIGMA shut his eyes tightly against the blinding flash of light, almost praying he could keep them if he survived. In the final half second between the nuke detonating, and the shockwave slamming into him, Doe wondered if this would be the death of him.

But as his hardened shields held up, and the shockwave picked him up and threw him through the air, he knew it wouldn't be. He could hear his tactical cloak getting incinerated by the quickly following heat wave, and he could just barely hear his Heads Up Display beeping rapidly, informing him that his shields, while still standing, were taking one hell of a beating. But that was why they were hardened, to make them all but indestructible. He knew they were designed to take immeasurable amounts of damage, and allow their wielder to keep fighting, but no one had expected them to go up against nukes. So Doe could only hope they held up.

For an entire ten seconds, Doe flew through the air, nothing to protect him save for his shields and his armor. Finally Doe crashed violently and abruptly into the ground, tumbling end over end and side over side into the rough dirt and, soon, the rough concrete of the unforgiving ground, until finally he slid to a halt. Every instinct told Doe to unfreeze himself and get up, but he knew better.

Ten seconds. Doe told himself, keeping his eyes shut tight. He was breathing heavily, and his body was in pain, obviously something had either gone wrong or he was going to be treated to something nasty when he woke up.

Five seconds. He knew of course that he had just survived a nuclear explosion with little more than a layer of shielding and his armor, so of course his body would be sore. He also knew that this couldn't have been anything but a city-breaker, anything else would have overwhelmed his shields in seconds due to their raw explosive yield.

Alright… Wake up. Doe told himself, before his shields deactivated and his body became mobile again.

The first thing Doe saw when he opened his eyes was his HUD, heartlessly informing him that his squad mates were dead, one of the Omegas were dead, and one of the Daggers was seriously wounded. The next thing he saw was that his visor was heavily tinted, he knew that it must have done that to protect his eyes from the blinding light of the nuke. The third thing was that his ears were ringing loudly, but through it he could hear a voice. The only options were that it was Uncle Bill, his allies, or Alliance Command, frantically trying to figure out what in god's name had just happened.

Doe took a deep breath before he sat up. He felt his bones creak and groan as he did so, but he ignored the feeling. He scanned his horizon, and saw that it was flat. The shockwave and heat waves had done their magic, there wasn't a sign of life for miles, be it sentient or otherwise. Off in the distance, Doe could see the mushroom cloud, looming threateningly above him. It was still bright orange, from the high heat of the detonation. But around it, Doe could see clouds rapidly forming, he knew the Black Rain would be coming soon, it had been about ready to rain when they were standing in the parking lot, now it was most assuredly going to pour.

Doe inhaled deeply and held it, as he hauled himself to his feet. His left leg felt weak, so he put more of his weight on his right, as he waited for the Cell Fluid injectors to kick in.

With another deep inhale and exhale, Doe focused through the ringing in his ears. He was just able to make out a voice, and it was speaking to him.

"This is Alpha 1, responding to person unknown. Be advised my hearing is damaged and I am recovering from an explosion." He said loudly and clearly.

"Doe?" That sounded like the Director for Defense, but the ringing in Doe's ears was still present, so he couldn't detect the man's voice entirely. "John Doe? Did you survive?"

"Affirmative."

"John, this is Alliance Director for Defense, Jonathan Serios, I'm speaking to you from Artcurus Station. Are you aware of the current situation?"

"Negative."

"I'll keep it simple: You're being extracted from the war zone. We're recalling every SIGMA we can and bringing them here, we've got a situation."

"The Batarians?" Doe brought up his virtual reality suite, and saw that the ATS - while damaged - was still flight worthy, and even if it wasn't still vacuum ready, he had a good forty five minutes of oxygen in his suit, so he could evacuate himself if he had to.

"No sir, not the Batarians."

"Who? The Rebels?"

"It's Nikola." This caught Doe up, "something's wrong with him, he's going haywire. We've already sent in a team of N7 to try and subdue him but they haven't reported in. How many Alphas survived?"

"One."

"Omega?"

"Two."

"Hm… Alright, you're still here. I hate to call you after such a disaster -"

"It's no problem, sir. My ATS is still functional, should I expect extraction?"

"We already have birds in the air, John." Said Serios, before a bright blue green flash emanated in the sky above him. "And we've already got TD's cleaning up the atmospheres."

"Atmospheres?" Doe emphasized the plural, "how many SIGMAs did we just lose? How many nukes went off?"

"Too many, John. Too many SIGMA Ones on-assignment haven't reported back in. We're already working on cleaning up the atmosphere and biospheres of the affected planets, we're certain we'll find other survivors." Said Serios, as the blue green flash enveloped the mushroom cloud.

Doe found himself with a front-row seat to an Alliance Terraforming Disk hard at work, clearing up the aftermath of a nuclear detonation. The flash absorbed the cloud and seemed to eat away at it, the cloud was rapidly cooling off and disappearing as the flash grew and enveloped it. Terraforming Disks had come a long way since World War Three, and they weren't fast as many would have liked them to be, but it was still getting its job done, Doe's HUD's radiation meters were already starting to descend.

Above him, Doe could see two ATS shuttles descending through the atmosphere, just as the rain began falling. As they came to a stop above him, Doe couldn't help but wonder, what had happened to Nikola?

And, even more horrifying, what would happen to the Alliance, if so many nukes had been launched to have killed hundreds of SIGMAs? The projected casualties were just under a quarter of their numbers, which left just over 1,800 SIGMA I's fit for service.

Whoever had coordinated this, had just brought up the Batarian War to second place, in the amount of SIGMA Casualties during the course of a war. Above all, that infuriated the SIGMA Veteran.