Hey everybody. I'm back with the next chapter. Gotta say though, this story is tougher to write in general. The names, places, fleets etc. A lot of thinking going into it. But at least most of my feedback has been pretty positive! Aside from that I do try my best. If you see some big plot hole error that I made with locals or whatever, let me know in a positive way.

Anyway! I don't own the rights to Gears or anything.

Chapter Two

System 355-KLV-42 1st of Bloom. 4th Subjugation Fleet (forty-two light years from Blaze)

Fleetmaster Tra'nil listened to his counterpart, Fleetmaster Ki'nav speak with that insufferable highborn tone he loathed so much. The Klor'vian had been barely talking about tactics for dealing with this new enemy…only how he would bring glory to the memory of his grandsire and bloodline.

"They attacked like cowards! From the flanks and the rear! But mark my words, the high church will witness my greatness when I bring liberating fire to their homeworld!" Ki'nav paused, his lips forming in a cruel grin. "Of course…if you follow my lead, I'll share some of the glory. After all, you were born to swamp farmers…"

Tra'nil used all his willpower to keep his tongue from lashing his counterpart. He had worked hard. Damn hard to reach this station and this arrogant shiv'tik was promoted to fleetmaster on the glory of his ancestor. Taking a deep breath of the moist air, he blinked slowly and kept his throat sac coloration neutral before speaking calmly. "I'm sure the glory you gain in your coming victories will put any I acquire to shame. I look forward to hearing your tales, however, my fleet has just arrived in a new system. We must sweep for…the enemy"

Ki'nav face betrayed smugness, pleased with the praise. "Try not to disappoint the might of Klorta" Ending the transmission, Tra'nil breathed a sigh of relief that the ordeal was over.

"Insufferable fool!" He sneered while striding to the window of his cabin. Gazing out at the stars, his large lips pursed into a thin line. He had gone over the battle as his fleet was called to action, pouring over all the data gathered on this new enemy. "Ki'nav was ranked second to last at the fleet academy, and it shows. His only strategy is to charge en masse…just like his grandsire" Granted, that old war had been a glory for their people…but that race had been weak…powerless. This enemy… "Can think…and fight. They built ships…powerful ships to fight ours. I fear if that first contact had been evenly matched, our forces would have been in retreat"

The blare of battlestation's warbled, ending the fleetmaster's thoughts as he left his quarters to head to the bridge of his dreadnaught, The Bash'vik.

"Report" He commanded with a small sneer before sitting in his command chair elevated above the lower ranks.

"Sensors have picked up possible ships drives on the far edge of the system near a dead world"

"Numbers?"

The technician blinked slowly, reading the incoming data as computers hummed around him. "Fifty three…no…sixty two…wait"

"Just inform me when the numbers stabilize" he finished with a light rumble in his throat, displaying annoyance. Standing up, he approached the holographic table representing the current system.

It was devoid of life, just three rocky planets around a red dwarf that were blasted by radiation as he made his plan. Tra'nil may have been born to poor farmers, but he was not a fool. "Have the second squadron swing around the star while the fourth hangs back in support. The remainder will close with them in a staggered formation. Once we join battle, have the second attack them from the flank to enact maximum destruction. Fourth will remain in support as they currently guard the troop transports"

"I just hope we find a world soon. They can't stay on those ships forever. Granted, supplies are well within means but the ground troops are itching for combat"

Standing back, the fleetmaster clasped his splotchy brown hands behind his back as his commands were carried out among his eight hundred fifty three ships.

Admiral Rojas frowned, his eyes aglow with luminosity as he poured over the tac-com display. Two hundred nineteen icons glowed a soft blue, indicating the combined might of 1st and 4th squadrons. Watching as the sensors indicated the splitting of enemy forces, he could understand what his counterpart was doing. A section of two hundred had broken off, flying to the star in a wide arching flanking maneuver.

He had moved his ships as fast as humanly possible, linking up with the fourth at Prescott before turning north at maximum speed. They had passed the colony of Blaze yesterday, ordering his support and repair ships to wait in station there.

No doubt the news of this new war had been shared with the populace and ground troops of the desert world among the other outer colonies, something that CNN was already picking up as they left Prescott. The news was protected by free speech after all, and somebody would notice the surge in military activity among troops and ships.

Rojas gave a quick thought to the 2nd and fourth fleets, a combined strength of over eight hundred ships that should be arriving at Tri-Ostri in the coming days. Reinforcements were coming, but time was not on their side at the moment based on how close this enemy fleet had gotten to their outer colonies.

Frankly…he had hoped to push further into a few more systems to conduct raids, but…that had been ruined by the appearance of eight hundred enemy ships. And now…now the enemy fleet was only two systems away from the colony of Blaze…along with its two million colonists.

"It appears that whatever alien commands this fleet has more imagination…" he stated in a low tone while stroking his red beard peppered with salted hair. "It appears our sensors are equal…unless he purposely wanted to announce his plans which seem highly unlikely" Rojas could follow the outcome of this coming battle, the frown getting deeper. If they had arrived just an a few hours earlier, this foe could've waited in ambush.

They had moved faster than anticipated since first contact, and Rojas knew…he knew that he wouldn't win the day. But he had to try and buy time.

He stood straighter, taking a holo pen to highlight his ships. "Ambush is off the table since they already know where we are. Our best bet is to attack this flanking group heading toward the star. It's mostly an even match so we can use that"

His commander spoke up, her blue eyes tracing the line of attack. "Sir, we could split our forces, flank them on both sides to form a crossfire. It's risky, but we won't be staying long. We just have to cause enough damage then fall back to the next system"

"Do it. Send out the orders" Admiral Rojas stepped back, his brow creased with worry as the Mount Trendil turned through space, leading another two hundred ships toward battle. The bridge became bathed in red moments later as battle klaxons sounded, scurrying any remaining crew to their posts.

Engines glowed hot, pushing more speed from the ships toward the center of the system and the burning orb of red over the next two hours.

The enemy ships closed, speeding up as they knew the trap had failed. Destroyers sprinted forward, taking a temporary lead as they inched closer to weapon range.

"Have the Oceania target the lead ship with her hammer! If we can knock it out, we can sow confusion!" Rojas commanded as his destroyers launched their fusion missiles. With a combined total of nearly eighty between the two squadrons, the ships disgorged one hundred sixty fusion warheads at the enemy formation. Turning in a high arc as they loosed their weapons, the destroyers tried to sprint away as the first enemy capital ships fired mass accelerator slugs. Four of them disgorged burning orbs of greenish light, a searing plasma that raced toward Rojas's command.

Seven destroyers didn't make it, the weight of their incoming damage too great to withstand as the enemy slugs tore through the smaller ships. The longshot cruisers opened fire at that point, sending sixteen thermic slugs at the enemy at 1.1% light speed.

Enemy point defense had sprung to life at that point, shooting down dozens of incoming fusion warheads as their main armaments fired at the human's. Space rippled with defensive lasers and bursting warheads, a harsh mix of blue, green, and harsh yellows under the bleeding red of the nearby star.

Of the one hundred sixty torpedoes, thirteen made it through to enact destruction on the enemy line. Eight ships of destroyer size were destroyed outright, unable to hold up against the blooming miniature suns. Three light cruisers and two heavy's took varying damage, but the line persevered as the ships continued to close. The surviving six thermic lances punched through the defensive net moments later, their superheated munitions splashing against shields that rippled as the longshot cruisers fired a fresh volley from the rear.

Weapon apertures from the Oceania and Dreadnaught Mt. Trendil glowed a harsh orange, then spat three searing beams through the raging battle at one of the lead ships. Slightly smaller than a Seran Battleship, the vessel had just fired another heavy slug toward the Mt. Trendil, but it was too late for the enemy sub-commander. Shields flared, overloaded in the triple compound attack burned through them like paper as systems overloaded. 15kg and 18kg accelerator rounds crashed in a few seconds later, spurned on at over 1.2% light speed.

The secondary command ship took the damage head on, the first shell killing the entire bridge crew before smashing through bulkheads and spilling Klor'vians to harsh vacuum as systems and metalwork screamed. A thermic lance burned through amid-ships three seconds later, finishing the kill as the enemy vessel broke in two.

Rojas gripped the holo-table, his ship taking several hits as her shields bore the brunt.

"Shields holding at 73% sir!"

"Admiral! The enemy fleet is closing fast! Soon they'll be at knife range! We won't be able to bring the HoD to bear at that point!" one of the bridge crew called out. But Admiral Rojas was well aware as he watched two more of his ships blink red…then black in destruction.

There was no time to split his forces for a double flank now. They enemy was too close. Another salvo hit, taking the heavy shields down a few more points. "Have the Oceania and the Cruisers Trent, Black Forest, Bonner, and…Viska form up into a wedge. They want to fight close…let's give them close"

The dual HoD fired again, taking out a light cruiser in a searing beam of energy as an incoming wall of enemy slugs and plasma beams surged toward his fleet. One of the green globs of plasma fire struck the battlecruiser, Anggil Lake, eating through depleted shields as her hull glowed a harsh melt of orange. Dozens died, the heat killing them instantly as the ship staggered. Her crew was fortunate, three friendlies interposing to give the battered ship a chance to fall back.

Thermal lances burned harshly through space, striking several more vessels as the wedge of heavily armed ships lead the fleet into the jaws of destruction like a dagger.

The battle grew more intense as the ships closed, each trying to end their opponents lives as engines flared harsh. Shields rippled and burned…armor cracked and melted as defensive batteries tried to stave off destruction. Human and Klor'vian were spit out into space as ships died on each side. Harsh beams of HoD slid silently though the dark, most attacks killing a ship in one blow as light cruisers and destroyers had no chance against the twin might of a battleship and Dreadnaught.

"Sir! Shields are below fifty percent!" The Mt. Trendil rocked from another twin blow as the enemy began to flow around his fleet. Losses were climbing, pushing past thirty ships destroyed as more took damage. A relay sparked behind him, another blow of damage from several enemy vessels trying to bring his Dreadnaught down to destruction.

"Have they surrounded us?" he inquired with a sense of calmness as nearly a third of his fleet changed from blue to yellow, indicating accumulating damage. Another thirty three were red, huddled in the center like a weakened turtle. The rest…now at forty seven black icons of dead ships, were a somber reminder that today had been costly. But their sacrifice was worth it.

"Yes sir"

"Then…ALL SECONDARY BATTERIES FIRE!"

Port and Starboard Boomshot and Lightmass Cluster batteries bloomed, disgorging close range, rapid sprint fusion missiles ranging from five to twenty kilotons of destructive energy at the enemy at knife range. Even as high speed slugs tore down Seran shields and plasma arcs melted armor, the attack had been made.

Nearly nine hundred rapid sprint missiles screamed into the remaining defensive nets of the surrounding fleet still pouring fire into the human ships…and the effect of the close range attack was…devastating.

Of course many were shot down, hundreds to be exact. For every ten launched, one, maybe two made it through. But that still equated over one hundred thirty missiles making their way past point defense lasers and clusters to bloom against tired shields. Over a hundred fresh suns came into momentary existence, burning through dozens of ships as many simply…vaporized into spinning clusters of metal shards and twinkling components. Even more were ravaged by staggering damage, slagging metal glowing hot as bodies tumbled into the frozen dark of vacuum.

"Sir! Over sixty enemy vessels destroyed! Another forty damaged! Only thirty five effective's remain!"

"Reload and hit them again! The more we destroy now the less they can repair later!" Admiral Rojas shouted in command.

"Admiral! The remaining enemy ships are closing! Effective range in…two minutes!"

"Then let's make sure we're gone before then. Order the heavy damaged to retreat now to Blaze, we'll be right behind them. Now…kill all those wounded ships!"

The Mt. Trendil turned, her double HoD glowing a hot orange as her defensive batteries disgorged another staggering salvo along with her fellow ships. A Klor'vian cruiser, already an air streaming wreck with shields flickering, had no chance as the twin beams tore through her with frightening ease. Fusion warheads screamed in, barely stopped by any defensive measures as a fresh salvo of fusion fire ate the wounded alive in harsh glows of suns.

Only the undamaged managed to survive by falling back, buying themselves time to shoot down the racing munitions as their brethren died. Even so…another three were rendered asunder as they were simply overwhelmed.

Slip space breeches had already been forming by then, the remaining one hundred sixty-two ships of the fifth fleet fleeing the battle just as Fleetmaster Tra'nil arrived.

The Klor'vian surveyed the wreckage of the second squadron, his throat sac a furious red as his eyes burned a harsh amphibian yellow. Only thirty two ships out of two hundred nine survived the engagement, their icons burning red among the dead system and the spinning wreckage of their fallen fellows. He was consumed with rage…but he had to remain calm. Losing one's emotions led to defeat…and this enemy had not defeated him yet. For their people were strong.

"Replay the battle on the tactical display" He said with a deathly calm voice. Marching over, he watched the battle play out for his devastated squadron. At first they seemed evenly matched… "Their lead ship is larger than any ship our navies fly! Bigger than my own flagship! And the weapons…two beams capable of taking out mid sized ships with one salvo…a terrifying weapon indeed…" Tra'nil kept watching at the two forces closed to knife range, something that should have put their own forces in favor as they had surrounded the enemy fleet. Then…

"By the word of Klorta…" The enemy had launched hundreds of missiles almost point blank in a broadside salvo. Like an armored Kin'ta with its poison darts against predators. He braced his spotted hands against the rail, breathing in the humidity of processed air. Looking up at his crew, he knew that they could not be blamed. Only his failure against a hidden weapon. "Why didn't we think of something like that? Of course we have defensive lasers and interceptor missiles, but…" The answer became crystal clear. They never needed to. At least…not in the depths of space. The wars that unified their people under the teaching of Klorta had been millennium ago, and frankly, they had never faced a species even capable of building guns, let alone space ships. It made Tra'nil wonder what made this species devise such a simple, but effective defensive system. "Something to be included in future ships, it would be easy to implement in unlaid hulls"

Tra'nil realized he had been silent for a few minutes, his crew watching him with silent respect and attention. "Today was a harsh lesson. But we have learned two critical things about this foe" He paused, seeing his officers give respectful attention from their respective stations. "The first is their sensors are on par with ours. That is the only reason they attacked the second squadron instead of closing with the main fleet…they knew what we had planned before we could even spring the trap" He took a deep breath, eyeing the ravaged squadron through the main bridge window as heavy tinting blocked the nearby harsh light of the star. "The second is that these ships are heavily armed. Even when surrounded, they are highly dangerous and capable. A mistake we can never make again" He stepped away, turning to leave the bridge. "I'll inform my superiors of the situation. Assist in recovery efforts…if there are any to be rescued…" Leaving the bridge, he knew that once that highborn…Shiv'tik heard of his losses, he would gloat and bleat like the arrogant fool he was. "Although…he probably would have lost even more. He attacked with eight to one odds and still took losses" Still, he had a feeling…something itching at the back of his mind saying that this war of extinction…would not be like the ones of history.

Colony of Blaze 2nd of Bloom

Admiral Rojas stood in the center of the bridge, his remaining ships in orbit over the desert world. Repair ships and crews were working frantically, doing their damn best to make repairs to armor, systems, and shield generators. Forty seven had been lost in that single engagement, another thirty three so badly damaged that he had ordered them to the Crysla Shipyards at Oceania. Not to mention the losses in personnel had been a heavy blow. Losses in destroyer crews had approached nearly fifteen thousand alone…not to mention the battle cruisers and two cruisers lost…

A clearing of a throat brought his attention back, his gaze setting on Chairman Diaz and Fleet Lord Stratton looking at him with a sterile expectation from the large communications screen nearby.

"What happened to the plans of ambush? The last thing we wanted was a stand up fight" Stratton asked, his dark face betraying hints of calculated anger.

"They moved faster than anticipated. It took my forces nearly three weeks to get here and the enemy had not been sitting around. Plus…"

"What?" the fleet lord asked, his patience not in the mood for delays of information.

Admiral Rojas swiftly glanced at Blaze, the dusty brown world spinning serenely below before looking back. "The initial assessment pushed forward by Rear Admiral Trescu seems to be false. Or at least, the enemy commander had been an arrogant fool. The one I faced displayed tactics I tried to employ. Whoever they were attempted a pincer ambush by splitting his forces. If it had worked…my losses would have been far greater. Instead, neither of us had a chance to ambush"

"But you still managed to destroy a good fourth of this second fleet. It's a great victory" Chairman Diaz smiled, trying to put on a comforting face.

"With all due respect Chairman, it was a loss for Blaze and my ships. Yes, I hurt them hard with a surprise broadside which will most likely only work once. They know how dangerous close range can be. Then there is the fact that this enemy is still six hundred ships strong while I lost nearly a third of my command in that single action. When they find this system…which they will" Rojas emphasized with seriousness. "I won't be able to stop them. And with only a single division of Gears on the planet, if they invade…"

"I understand. Stratton? Suggestions?" Diaz asked on the screen as she momentarily turned to the male next to her.

"Has the local governor and population been warned?"

"Yes sir. They're evacuating the largest cities to the numerous salt mines and stockpiling supplies in the sewer systems. It's not much…but the best shot they have to survive this"

"That's something at least…" Stratton studied the layout of the Blaze system, his eyebrows scrunching in concentration. "Take station high above the elliptical over Blaze IV. If this enemy fleet sees an unguarded world, you might be able to hit them one more time" Stratton paused, looking at the Admiral in question with a sternness in his eyes. "We can't afford another battle of heavy losses, at least until reinforcements arrive in numbers to stand up to these fleets. One pass. Hit them hard then make the jump to…Oceania for repair and resupply. I'll have Admiral Carmine push the fourth fleet to link up with you. She'll be there in about seventeen days. Until then, try to limit losses with raids"

"Yes sir"

"Good luck admiral" With that, the two disappeared from the screen. Knowing minutes could be the difference between life and death, Rojas brought up the system layout on the holo table. Spinning worlds sprung upward, the system of soft light woefully unprepared for war.

"They don't even have the HoD defensive net under construction yet…" He knew it had been slated in the coming months, but the joys of bureaucracy had slowed over colony development along with system wide mineral extraction. "If we survive this…I bet that will change" He thought wryly before highlighting the space near the outer ice world of Blaze IV. He shifted the view high above the elliptical, highlighting a small nebula.

"We'll wait here. The long range sensors should give us some warning of the enemy fleet. We attack from above. Priority are capital ships" He turned to his XO, the woman studying the map.

"Commander, how are repairs?"

Her face curled in a small frown as she highlighted some data from a data pad. "Only a third complete" We'll need at least another two days to finish all of them"

"I highly doubt we have that much time. All ships are to make for that nebula before these bastards show up. But have the repair ships continue to work until combat actually starts. When that happens, have them retreat to Oceania immediately"

"Yes sir"

The orders were quickly carried out, the battered fleet pushing sublight engines to the outer system in the hopes of delaying the inevitable. Arriving in the small nebula of yellow and blue gases, the 5th fleet waited as repairs continued at a feverish pace over the next few hours. It was oddly serene…the crews putting everything they had into the emergency repairs as the system of worlds turned slowly below them.

Not even half had been finished when long range system sensors blared a warning of incoming FTL drives.

"They're here…get a passive scan of their ships. I need target identification" Rojas ordered as sensors got to work from their ambush position. Taking station at the tactical display of the planetary system, Rojas's fears were realized as over six hundred enemy ships entered the system on the pulses of FTL drives.

"Highlight the capital ships" he whispered, the bridge bathed a harsh red once more as the fleet prepared for the coming fight.

"Sir. Scans are picking up a new class of ship…half the size as our own colony ships. It's possible they're troop transports"

"They plan to invade? Are these aliens waging a war of territorial expansion?" Rojas asked himself. Stroking his red beard in contemplation, he was distinctly aware of this rare opportunity to land another blow…and to buy the colonists a fighting chance. "How many of these possible transports?" He asked the crewman at sensors, her raven hair glistening in the bath of red light.

"Count puts them at thirty five, sir" the woman replied, highlighting the ships for the admiral.

He made up his mind in an instant, the course of action clear as he opened comms to the Oceania. The visage of a small woman with dark hair and Pesangan features became clear, the ancestry of her people quite apparent. "Rear Admiral Chibana. I have new targets for your squadron which I'm sure your own sensors picked up"

"We see them. Possible troop ships"

"That's the belief. Take your squadron and make them hurt. Maximum casualties. I'll be hitting designated capital ships" He paused, knowing that after this, the people of this system were on their own. With a quick nod, he ended the call. Striding to his command chair, he sat calmly while nebulous gases swirled and danced beyond his vessels.

"Commence the attack"

His remaining command moved, a fourth nothing but frozen corpses and rendered metal in the battle yesterday. Angling downward, sublight engines pushed for speed at the enemy fleet moving past the frozen ice world of the outer system. They were staggered in a defensive cone…a box of supporting fire to protect the flanks, rear and front. A full one hundred were hanging back in a supporting role, ready to spring their own attack on any incursions. Whoever was in charge…was cautious. He had even protected his upper fleet in some sense, a warranted caution that Rojas himself would have done.

"I want that lead ship destroyed. That enemy commander thinks too much for my liking" Admiral Rojas ordered as his command split into two groups. "His trap may have failed in the last system…but he will be dangerous if left alive"

The enemy fleet noticed them a little too early, spreading apart to limit the coming damage and death as some ships started to angle upwards to meet them.

But the dagger was already falling, and the ones that would be in place to bring effective fire would be unable to protect their vulnerable charges huddled in the middle of their fleet.

Destroyers, Cruisers and Battle Cruisers sprinted forward, a surge of burning sub-light engines as the ships of the 1st squadron targeted the waddling transports and their escorts. Fusion Torpedoes left their tubes, followed by lances of thermic light and dozens of Mass Accelerator rounds. Defending ships had angled upward, trying to prevent the breach of their lines as they returned fire with their own weight of metal. Defensive nets and anti-missiles went to work, trying to prevent Seran weapons from enacting destruction. They stopped some, but the attack had still been from a horrible angle as the first torpedoes bloomed fire against the transports. Thermic lance rounds tore into several destroyers that had interposed between the incoming fire and soft targets, taking the harsh beating as armors melted and sundered under flaring shields. Added weight of accelerator rounds took an even higher toll, ripping through the wounded ships and spilling thousands of troops into the harsh vacuum of space.

Shields rippled as several hits struck the Oceania, but she held firm under Rear Admiral Chibana as her HoD glowed…then fired a searing beam of light at the looming transport in her sights. A Cruiser moved in front of the target, protecting the vessel as it fired that harsh glob of green plasma energy at the Battleship. Their attacks met each other at the same time, an overload of shields for the enemy. The Oceania rocked, taking the harsh blow as her shields fell to twenty percent…but her 15kg ship length cannon fired moments later, crashing with kilotons of force against the enemy ship. It's armor buckled, breaking apart the bow in a furious spread of rendered metal and dying crew.

As one final insult to injury, the 1st squadron unleased a broadside salvo of close range missiles…minus seven ships that had taken too harsh a beating to survive. They had died in burning fire during the attack run, but it was almost worth it as fresh fusion suns burned among enemy ships.

Of course, Admiral Rojas had been diving parallel to his compatriots, the Mt. Trendil and her supporting ships targeting the front of this enemy fleet. Or more specifically, the flagship and her own escorts that were trying to move into an advantageous position…but no matter what Fleetmaster Tra'nil tried, most of his ships would not be able to bring themselves to bear in time to fight effectively.

The twin HoD glowed harsh orange over the dead ice of Blaze IV, the attack group of a dozen ships attacking the single battleship still trying to turn in time. Beams of burning particle energy burst forth, followed immediately with an 18kg slug at the target…along with another ten shells and two thermic lances of light. Destroyers homed in, fusion torpedoes adding their own weight to the carnage of laser beams, exploding munitions and dying shields.

"FLEETMASTER! The enemy attack will hit in five seconds!" A crewman screamed, his throat sac turning a harsh blue with dread and fear.

Tra'nil sat in his elevated command chair, feeling his flagship shudder from a few nearby impacts. Even with his defensive systems shooting down those incoming damnable missiles…he knew… His vessel rocked badly the next moment from numerous impacts, relays sparking and exploding with electrical discharges, killing two of his crew nearby as their flesh cooked from the burns.

Closing his eyes, the twin beams of the Hammer of Dawn broke down his shields…paving the way for the rest of the attack. Thermic lances burned through armor, melting it at the temperature of a small sun as slugs traveling at 1.3 percent light speed tore through the already melting metalworks.

The damage was instant and far too much for his ship to weather…especially against such a powerful vessel and its companions. Ravaged metal screamed a mid-ship, trestles and beams warping as the inner hull became exposed to space, glowing a harsh red. The nearby crew was sucked out into vacuum or blown to bits in an instant, sealing their fate.

"Not a weak race…not at all…" were Tra'nil's final thoughts as the Bash'vik broke in half a moment later with a groaning scream. The rear half spun away to collide with a nearby destroyer as the engines stuttered and burned out of control, taking both in a bloom of nuclear fire as the engine core exploded. The front half drifted the opposite direction, raw damage aglow while disgorging a fresh group of corpses to fall toward the ice world below in a meteoritic display.

Admiral Rojas grinned in satisfaction, his squadron leaving a trail of sprint warheads to sow even more destruction among the inner fleet. More shields flared…some ships died among blooming balls of fusion bursts, covering the swift retreat of the fifth fleet into the swirling holes of slip space.

He sat back, relishing in the soft glow of passing blues and purples of the extra spatial dimension. "Damage assessment, their losses and ours"

"We lost eight destroyers and the battlecruiser, Vale. Approximately another twenty two ships damaged to varying degrees"

"And the enemy losses?" he inquired with a tone of exhausted seriousness.

"Estimates thirteen transports destroyed and another two damaged. Combat ship losses including their flagship comes to…a total of thirty eight ships. Unfortunately, our broadside salvo was not as effective this time due to the defensive formation of their fleet"

"Understood. Stand down from combat readiness and compile an assessment of total damage and losses within the hour" Leaning back…Rojas should feel elated, but all he felt was…failure. "The colonists of Blaze….what will these aliens do to them? Enslave…genocide…eat them?" He shuddered, each option a despicable fate as his battered squadrons continued on their journey to fall back…

Sub-master Tor'ta stood at the display table, his heavily purple skin bathed crimson under the light of battle stations. His throat sac was a harsh purple, distraught…angry…mournful at the sudden losses incurred by this damnable enemy. His duties had been commanding the 3rd squadron of the 4th subjugation fleet. And now…he was in command of the remains.

"How did this enemy manage this? The might of Klorta has never seen such a defeat of our forces by any inferior enemy" He looked up, his amphibian eyes looking at the young officer standing before them, his own throat a discoloration of blue.

"Have you found any survivors from the Bash'vik?"

"No…fleetmaster. The entire ship and it's crew perished in the ambush…including the Fleetmaster"

Tor'ta felt his hands digging into the railing surrounding the tactical display, anger mounting as his large lips formed a thin line. Growling, he hit a few strokes of the display to bring up the fleet. The numbers were…distressing. "Only two battles with these vermin and our mighty fleet has been cut down by over twenty five percent!" For a brief moment, the thought of the Klor'vian Caliphate making a mistake by starting a war with this species entered his mind, but Tor'ta squashed it like an annoying bug. The will of their god was clear…

"Fleetmaster. Incoming communication from the lead transport. It's Groundmaster Ven'ill" a lowly technician informed.

"Put him on the main screen. I'm sure he has much to discuss"

As commanded, a screen near the front of the bridge sprang to life with an older, almost yellow skinned male. His eyes betrayed fury…his throat sac a burning red as his teeth bared.

"Fleetmaster Tor'ta…YOU WILL MOVE TOWARD THAT PLANET AND BEGIN THE BOMBARDMENT! The searing rage from my troops at the loss of nearly two hundred thousand demands the annihilation of this vermin!"

Tor'ta tried to reign in his emotions. They were all stressed…furious and wanting to kill this hated race at the losses suffered today. But he had to try to be restrained. "Groundmaster. We should call for reinforceme—"

"NO! BLOOD MUST FLOW FOR THIS…THIS COWARDLY ATTACK!" His gaze suddenly lowered, a switch to narrowing eyes. "Do not make me report to the high council your unwillingness to enact punishment on these creatures…"

Tor'ta yellow eyes widened at that, his mind recalling tales of those that befell on the wrong side of the high priests.

"Very well. We will begin our approach immediately" Cutting off the comms, he turned his attention to his sub-officer. "Inform the fleet. Push toward the planet. Once in range, begin a conventional bombardment. No plasma…only kinetic weapons. After all, we are to protect these worlds" Clasping his hands behind his back, the new fleetmaster felt his command sash of leathers feel…heavier as the ships began to slip through space…leaving the floating graves of so many behind.

It took nearly two hours to approach the planet they had scanned, but its appearance surprised many.

"These vermin inhabit such a dry world?" Tor'ta asked himself as he studied the floating projection hovering over the tactical display table. Three inland seas and minimal rivers dotted the surface among the desert, punctuated by the icons of city locations. Of course they knew about deserts…but no Klor'vian lived in one. The air was too dry…they preferred damp humidity…moisture.

"No matter" he idly thought. "Begin the bombardment"

"Fleetmaster. The largest settlement along this western sea…it appears to have a spaceport. It would make it easier for the groundtroops to land if we didn't destroy it"

"Obviously. Very well, spare the port, the rest of the settlements will fall under our fire" Giving a nod toward weapons, the commander remained stoic as the first ships began to fire on the helpless world below. "Even with our losses…our might still carried the day to victory"

He smiled lightly, watching the first blooms of impact render destruction as the helpless vermin below were extinguished by fire.

Blaze Planetary Capital, Porra

Captain Chaz Illumstared up at the sub-basement ceiling of the news station, his emotions a contortment of rage and grief at the aliens far above bombarding the city. He couldn't guess their motives…but with the callous slaughter of the populace…he could guess. A near miss shook the foundation seconds later, spilling dust upon his company and the huddled civilians as the lights flickered. A child cried nearby, the wail being shushed by a terrified mother as the bombardment continued. Something groaned and crashed above, splintering the air as a near miss flung a few people to the floor.

The Gear grit his teeth, taking a knee near the door as he kept a firm grip on his Mk. III lancer.

"Damn them…just like the locust…killing without mercy"

His unit, Company K of the 2nd Battalion of the 4th Vasgari Rifles had been tasked with trying to evacuate the business district of Porra, which was thousands of civilians. The planet didn't even have bunkers near the urban centers. Just underground caverns, nearby Salt mines, or…the sewer systems of the larger cities. Unfortunately, the entire planet only had one Division of Gears, not enough time, and nowhere near enough transport capacity to move the entire colony to safety. Which meant for a city of nearly 150,000 inhabitants and countless other towns and communities across the desert planet…

"Every time those aliens fire…thousands die…"

The ceiling shook again, plunging the sub-basement into complete darkness…save for the azure glow of the Gear armor as several more children cried out. "Not like they need to be in a hurry. They can take their sweet time since the navy bugged out" He knew it wasn't fair to blame the flyboys. Rumor had it that first contact had them outnumbered eight to one…but still. He wished they had stayed and fought harder. "Get real Chaz…Blaze is barely two million. They tried, but push comes to shove, they'll abandon the outer colonies to preserve the majority of our species. Hell, I would do the same thing if I was in charge"

Still…he didn't like the horrible fact that they had already been written off by the CoG. Looking upward once more as another bombardment strike rattled the foundation of the news station, he silently prayed to the Allfathers not to crush him to death as destructive echoes of collapse came from above. At least…not until he could payback these aliens. Staggering as another cracking noise and rumbling blast shook the earth, he knew that one had been close.

"K company. Once this shit show ends, we make topside to give these invading assholes a warm welcome. Danner, Minns, Trayton and Spriggs? Escort the civies further into the sewers. It'll stink, but at least it'll be safer"

A chorus of 'yes sir' wafted, mixed with another falling blast that nearly shook the foundation to dust. The crump of high speed kinetic bombardment finally seemed to be slowing, the man realizing that nearly an hour had passed from the first strike. It had felt like hours. Each moment a dread of looming death and destruction.

Silence. It felt like deafness as the young captain moved up the short flight of stairs to the basement proper. Pushing the door open, dust wafted in…a dry heat as the damage quickly became apparent. Rubble clogged the stairwell, the floors above a haphazard toss of destruction and collapsed beams as the Gears made their way to the surface. Civilian office equipment and desks had been blown around the area. Most of the upper floors had collapsed around the basement stairwell, leaving barely any room to leave the ruined building. Moving into the street, granules of dust and sand blew horizontally down the road from an incoming sandstorm.

"Shit…look at all this…" one of the helmeted privates said in horrified awe at the state of Porra around them. The skyline was ablaze…or simply missing the distinctive structures that had just stood a mere hour before. Buildings had been blown apart or half collapsed, raining tons of concrete and debris onto the former avenue. Of course…there were the corpse's all around them. Burnt…ripped apart…or simply dead from the concussive shock force as they lay where they had fallen. People unfortunate enough not to make it to safety… And the stink…

It stank like death…like war as Porra and other cities burned across the planet.

Captain Illum stood motionless for a moment, anger and anguish struggling across his weathered features at the sight of a family nearby…three children…the obvious parents laying in a mangled heap near a wrecked civilian vehicle that burned furiously. He did his best…tried to save as many as he could, but it wasn't enough. The twenty year old could only hope the rest of his division across Blaze had been more successful.

A low level boom came from above, startling the company as several strange, bulbous looking ships broke atmosphere. The wind picked up speed, the gritty sand becoming thicker as it billowed and flowed among the carnage. Grasping his helmet hanging from his rear right hip, the Captain affixed it over his head. The seals clicked, sealing himself in as the sand storm began to get worse. Looking out from behind the lenses, he knew they were the standard blue, reflecting away the glare of sunlight…and protecting his eyes.

"To any surviving units of the 2nd Battalion. The aliens are heading toward the spaceport. We need to hit them as hard as we can before they organize" The feminine voice belonged to Major Aiya Mizaki, the force in command of the 3rd Armor Battalion stationed in the city as it broke over the radio waves. "I'm pushing south from the desalination plant…looks like they don't have proper air cover. Use the sand storm to move…and good luck Gears"

"You heard the Major. Get moving to the spaceport!" Illum yelled, his footfalls moving among the rubble as his company of one hundred sixty men and women moved across the devasted city…

Huffing double-time across the cratered landscape ripe with devastation and death, Kilo Company managed to reach the main terminal of the space port. It had been left mostly undamaged, the landing pads for commerce ships billowing with harsh dust flying almost on a horizontal vector. The visibility was barely twenty feet at this point, nothing but flying grit coming from the dunes beyond the nearby river.

Linking up with Easy, Baker, and Charlie companies, Captain Illum took small solace in the fact most of them had the foresight to hunker down below the earth. The Major's Centaur tanks were hunkered down at the far end of the port, supported by infantry among the ravaged ruins of the city block just beyond…waiting for the right moment.

The first alien transport had almost landed as the Gears surged into the building, the shouts of Sergeants and Lieutenants carrying out orders over the rapid deployment.

"Thermic Teams! Take the second and third floors! Mulchers! I want interlocking fields of fire across tarmac one through three! Snipers! Top floor!" Captain Illum bellowed as he took position behind a supporting pillar near a window facing the tarmac. The glass was gone, most likely blown out by concussive forces as it crunched beneath heavy boots. His company spread out, taking positions where they could. Almost forgetting, he spoke into his built-in helmet radio. "Marrs. Make sure to deploy the Jack-bot. The CoG needs to find out just who the hell we're fighting"

"Already deployed sir. Just waiting now"

He could feel the nervousness…that tenseness of waiting. Yes…they trained…they had the old stories about their ancestors fighting the locust. But not a single one of them had ever fought in a war. "Allfathers…please don't let me fuck this up"

The first transport landed, its hull a looming shadow of size as frozen moisture flowed down its flanks. The sandstorm hid many of the details, but the Gears weren't here to study alien shipbuilding designs. They were here to kill some genocidal fucks.

A side hatch opened toward their front, partially hidden by all the grit as the looming hole in the transport could easily cover half a thrashball field.

"LIGHT IT UP!" Captain Chaz Illum screamed out over the command net to his company, his gloved finger already squeezing down the trigger at the first blobbing forms emerging. His Gears followed his orders, opening up a carnage of snaping bullets at the emerging aliens. Tracers cracked with harsh blues and greens, followed by bursts of 7.62 bullets not even seen as inhuman screams bellowed in pain. The Thermic Lance teams fired, a combined force from the four companies sending eight of the hellish munitions to burrow through the disgorging opening just beyond.

The Centaur tanks fired as they moved against another transport to the far north of the port, hoping to ravage the monsters within as the heavy shells tore into the now opened ship.

Bodies dropped, piling up in twisted mangles as the Gears kept up a steady rate of fire…but still they came on through the fusillade of machine gun and rifle rounds. The aliens began to fire upon the building, bullets slamming into the outer façade as their numbers pushed them forward.

A nearby Gear screamed a gurgle, the first casualty from a round through the throat. The joining seal there was decent, but couldn't stand up to a high speed bullet. Cries of medic rang, but Chaz knew the chances of that man surviving were minimal. Bringing himself out of cover again, he fired at a pack of the aliens. Two dropped…and the sand cleared for a moment to show him just what the hell they were facing.

"They're toads…fucking space toads…" Shaking his odd shock, he didn't know what the hell to expect…five limbs? Two heads? But toads? The mixture of ridges and skin colored from spotted greens and browns…the throat sacs and yellowed eyes… At least they were ugly. Opening fire once more, he killed another before a sprinting group tried to reach the building. "Grenades! Try to kill as many as you can!" Chaz shouted while following his own advice…and throwing a frag out the window into the harsh battlezone. It bloomed, taking three of them in a blast of shrapnel and steel among screams. Re-aiming with his lancer, the Captain continued to fight as the Toad's pushed closer and closer…

Trin Bi'velk was a standard trooper following the mass of Klor'vian's in front of him from the initial landing transport. Running past dozens of broken bodies leaking out a dark green blood onto the dried concrete, he found himself terrified at the sheer destruction these aliens were bringing…especially after most of their cities were bombarded into ruin.

The screams of his fellow soldiers getting wounded or dying…the harsh stink of gunpowder and waste…fear and death. It mixed in with the horrid dryness of this world and the blowing sand. Four Klor'vian's to his right were cut in half, their guts spilling as their blood splashed against his infantry armor and facial scales. Made up of ridged Furroplast, the armor had gone unchanged for almost two generations from their previous genocidal conflicts. Against arrows and spears? It did well. Against high speed munitions and incoming rifle rounds…it's lack became horrifying apparent.

Trin ran forward, his throat sac a horrifying blue as another trooper's head exploded to his left, spraying brain matter into the dust storm. His eyes had natural defenses against the grit, but it was so…dry. Blinking as he ran toward the aliens holding the main port building, the young soldier almost defecated in his uniform as two bullets cracked past his head.

"FIRE YOUR WEAPON TROOPER! FOR THE LOVE OF KLORTA AND OUR MIGHT!" A minor group leader screamed at him, the Klor'vian firing from the hip as he let out a twenty round burst toward the enemy held structure. Explosions rained down from the upper floors, a howl of shrapnel cutting down the leader in the next moment as more horrible lances of light kept hitting large sections of the 19th War Troop.

Bi'velk could hear the horrendous screams as he briefly looked back, seeing more of his comrades melt from those nightmarish weapons. He turned away, barely missing the flesh fall from their bones as he ran toward the closest window with more of his fellow soldiers. Firing his standard battle rifle, the rounds barely added to the hell he found himself in. Finding himself vaulting through the broken window as his fellow warriors laid down more fire, Trin was facing one of the aliens. It was completely covered by heavy looking armor, the center decorated by a gear symbol. Two blue lenses looked at him…and Trin fired his weapon more in fright than intent.

It clicked empty…and the Klor'vian attacked, trying to stab upwards with the attached bayonet of his weapon, hoping to hit the alien in one of its eye ports. The creature was fast, raising its own weapon as some circular saw sprang to life with a hiss of teeth. Blocking, Trin was pushed back as the buzzing teeth screamed against his bayonet with harsh sparks…then the alien broke past to plunge those revving teeth between his neck and shoulder.

Trin screamed in nightmarish agony, living long enough to feel the weapon carving through his chest as his own blood spattered against the enemy. The last thing he saw…was another of the aliens coming up with a different type of weapon…spitting a stream of searing napalm through the window followed by more cries of his fellow dying warriors…

Sera. New Ephyra. Ministry of Defense. 4th of Bloom

Chairman Diaz found herself in the secured bunker nearly everyday since this war began a little more than a month ago. Sitting at the head of the table, she eyed the military personnel pouring over reports…data…everything they had learned of this enemy since they invaded Blaze the day before. Fleet Lord Stratton had tried to raise communications with the colony, but the enemy had moved quickly to destroy communication relays in the system.

The 4th Vasgari Rifles had fought hard…enacting a heavy toll from initial reports, but they were so outnumbered. They had to retreat soon after, falling back into the ruins and sewers to try and survive for another day after killing several thousand. And the civilian casualties…the bombardment across Blaze…

"An estimated one million dead…and that's just civilians…" She looked up, her heart heavy at such…loss in such a short amount of time. But she had to…had to push those thoughts down as she studied the holographic display of the alien. The…Toads… A Captain had uttered that during the spaceport battle, a name that seemed to be sticking.

"What do we know about them? Aside from what they look like and their purposeful genocide?"

"Not much. We know they're amphibian…which might be a weakness on colder or drier worlds" An aging anthropologist replied before hitting a few buttons near his personal console. A sample of their language played, but to the gathered humans in the room, it might as well have been garbled nonsense. "Their language…the recorded words aren't nearly enough to begin a translation"

"Like we need it…their intent is pretty damn clear" Chairman Diaz uttered. Her personal tablet pinged, an automatic update of data from the fifth fleet trying to buy time for reinforcements days away. Her breath hitched…another blow to her spirit as she re-read the horrible news.

"Rear Admiral Trescu just retreated from Aspho…he managed to destroy a few dozen ships…but…" Her gaze hardened, glaring steel at the Toad still floating above the table. "They'll be killing everybody there too"

The room went silent, each man and woman present realizing as they sat there…people were dying. Being slaughtered by this race of space toads.

Stratton cleared his throat, dark features barely discernable from his uniform. "Fenix is to the far north-east of our territory. If we bait these…Toads on a more southernly path with raids, they might not even find the colony"

"Sure" Herman Kentrilli agreed with a snort of derision. "Then we can just lead them to Prescott and it's forty one million inhabitants"

"At least that world has a fully functional HoD defensive net! We compound that with the second fleet and the survivors of the 2nd and 4th squadron's and we could stop them!"

"The fact you're willing to choose forty million over three is ludicrous!" The naval secretary jabbed with a finger.

"ENOUGH!" Diaz bellowed, her feminine voice mixing with a hard slam of her palm against the table. The two men backed down, looking toward her as their tempers cooled. "Gentlemen. What about the colonial ships? Could we use them to evacuate Fenix?"

Stratton shook his head, distress taking over his eyes as he changed the floating image from the Toad to a representation of civilized space. Dots lit up, representing the colonial transports randomly at ports of call. "They're spread out over all of Coalition space. By the time we assemble an evacuation fleet, the aliens would already have moved further into our territory. But even if we did manage to reach the colony, we only have twelve total. Multiple trips would be needed"

"I see…Still. Collect them at Tri-Ostri just in case we need them" she replied, the hope dashed as the logistics became clear.

A woman at the far left spoke up, her auburn hair and plain face drawing the attention of many. "What if they went dark? No transmissions. No trade ships. Even turn out the lights of the cities so it would look uninhabited from far range"

"Do you think that could work?"

The woman spread her hands. "Its probably the best shot they have…so long as our ships stay away. It will be tough, but it's the best chance for that colony's survival"

"Do it" Diaz ordered simply, feeling the knot in her gut grow worse. "Did I just abandon three million citizens without a fight?" It couldn't be helped. They still had no idea of the extent of this race's naval capacity, population or industry. For all she knew, they were outnumbered twenty to one. "Lord Stratton. Combine the 2nd Fleet with the remnants of Trescu's command. I want them to continue raiding the enemy by any means necessary"

"Admiral Carmine of the 4th Fleet is pushing her ships as fast as they can go from Vasgarnia. They'll be at Oceania in approximately two weeks"

"Good" the chairman replied, a silent gasp of relief that the battered 5th would finally have a fighting chance. Studying the floating hologram of CoG territory, her face grew grim as a line showed the 4th Fleets progress. "Convel…Oasis…Oceania. Nearly one hundred twenty million of our people inhabit those three systems alone. But if we bring up the reserve fleets…The inner worlds would be left bare. If it comes down to it…the deaths of those colonies could be accepted if humanity survives. But not without a damn fight!"

She couldn't avoid it anymore. Maybe future generations would see her as foolish for waiting this long…maybe they would understand. But this new threat had become horribly clear with their intent. Genocide.

Laying her palms onto the table, the Chairman slowly stood as the mutterings of high ranking officers halted. Looking in her direction, Izabel took one deep breath. "I want the Fortification Act to be in full effect by day's end. Every world. Every local government and military unit on full alert. We will be switching our economy to a full war footing immediately. Raising new armies. New and stronger ships…bigger dreadnaughts…new fleets…we'll need them all"

"At once, Chairman" Jacob Stratton replied, his baritone voice spoken for all.

"Good. Meanwhile, turn over all the data of our new enemy to the press. The people need to see these aliens for the genocidal monsters they are. And somebody set up an emergency interview in my office! A full link to every world we inhabit!" She finished with a shout, already turning toward the elevator doors to take her topside.

"By tomorrow…this war will already have claimed over two million"

Stepping into the elevator, Diaz would have to harden herself, because she knew the losses wouldn't stop at two million…

One hour later…

The blue sky outside leaked through the armored windows of her office, bathing New Ephyra in late summers light as the news crew readied their equipment with one final check. Realistically, a reporter could just send out a flying camera bot to record, but the habits died hard as the technology was affixed to a tripod. The technician looked at her, his face partially hidden by a Cougars cap as the attractive reporter stood nearby. "Were live in five..four…" He went silent, holding up his fingers in a silent countdown.

The small light went green, going live across the CoG as Chairman Izabel Diaz rested her elbows on her large desk, entwining her fingers. Her solemn body language was supported by the Coalition flag behind her, its symbolism recognizable to all as the woman sat in a light green dress.

"My fellow citizens of the Cog. From Gulan and Beta Sarfuth…to Anvengad and Convel…we are not alone. A month ago, the fifth fleet made contact with an alien species north of Aspho. They implemented first contact protocol to the letter, doing their best to ensure a peaceful meeting" Chairman Diaz breathed hard, steeling her voice as her eyes looked straight into the camera. "They were not peaceful. Enemy ships immediately opened fire, destroying several of our ships and starting a new war against our people" She took a breath. "The Toads, like the locust our fore-fathers fought, are genocidal. Already they've taken Blaze and Aspho, bombarding the surfaces and killing without any semblance of guilt. By this time tomorrow, two million will have perished…perhaps more. That is why I am implementing the Fortification Act for every world, every colony. A full war footing for our species is needed if we are to survive! We will need soldiers! Pilots and crews for new ships! Industry and science must comply to carry on this war!" slamming her palms down against the fine desk, Izabel half rose from her chair. "I implore every citizen of the CoG to do their part! To make the sacrifices needed to ensure our species lives! Because mark my words! We will fight! We will push them to their borders! And we will beat them!" nodded toward the crew, the technician ended the video transmission as the young reporter moved forward.

"Inspiring Chairman"

"I hope so. I didn't really prepare anything" Standing up, Izabel moved toward the window to clasping her slender hands behind her back. Staring out at the skyline of Ephyra, she was taken with awe by how far their people had come. The advances…the settlements of new worlds…and now they face a hostile race.

"Once again…we face genocide…"

Infantry Equipment Index Circa 421 A.E.

Mk. III Combat Armor

-Meto-ceramic plating capable of withstanding up to 7.62 impacts for three seconds.

-Biosensors

-vac seals ensure protection from chemical or vacuum environments. Protection against natural hazards

-Helmets capable of low light or in-fared vision

Lancer Mk. III

-thirty round magazine

-Carbide/ Tungsten chainsaw.

Boomshot Mk. IV

-Loaded cylindrical drum with ten shell capacity

-Variations of Frag, Smoke, and Thermite 40mm shells

Grinder Mk. II

-7.62mm caliber

-1100 rounds per minute

-Built in heat-sink to prevent overheating

Longshot Mk. IV

-Range of 1,100 yards

-7.62mm round

-Eight round capacity

-In-fared and night vision scope capabilities

Gnasher Mk. V

-Eight shell capacity

-Variations of Heavy Slug, Buckshot, and Thermite Laced ammo provide adequate munitions for close range combat

-Seven inch bayonet attachment for 'Stab n shoot' combo

Scorcher Mk. VI

-Armored fuel tank and flexible composites for fuel hoses make the Scorcher highly protected against incoming fire over predecessors.

-Jellied Napalm capable of reaching 25-35 feet

Snubtok Mk. III

- .357 caliber

-Eight round magazine

-Laser sight

-A combination of increased stopping power along with capacity. Rugged durability has made the Snubtok a trusted standard side arm for over three centuries among military personnel.

Thermic Lance

-Scaled down version used by navy Crusiers.

-Shoulder fired tube weapon. Burns at 4,000 degrees. Excellent against armor or 'splash' damage

-Two man fire team. One for handling and one for laser 'painting' the target.

-Typical team loadout is ten 'lances'

SIG Mk. V (Standard Infantry Grenade)

-Thermite

-Smoke

-Fragmentation

-Kill radius of ten feet. Ten-twenty five feet 'wounded area'

Centaur Main Battle Tank

-30 mm Reactive Tungsten/ Chromium Steel

-155mm smoothbore cannon. Payload of Armor Piercing, Shot, Thermite and High Explosive

-7.62mm forward facing machine gun x2

-Top speed 63mph

- Fusion Cell power plant

-Five man crew

There we go! Hope you all enjoy! I included some of the equipment the infantry use so hopefully I don't sound like a complete idiot haha. Also, relax about the way this story is going. Once I finish this war, the Council will be making contact with the Cog. Just relax about it until then.

As always, I hope you all enjoy the current chapter!

-The Happy