Well, here I am with another chapter! Gotta say I'm actually surprised by the amount of attention this story gets. But that's a good thing. Anyway, I do have a bit of news. Started a new story called 'Bisca's Journey' If you're a fan of my fanfiction, check it out. Other than that, I'll get to work!

Chapter 11: Retreat and Advancement

Vio'shelek. 18th of Reap, 423 A.E.

The supercontinent of Vio'shelek burned, it's cities and urban centers a collection of broken skylines, craters, and unfiltered ruin. Klor'vian bodies littered the road from the bombardment, twisted and gnarled…some charred to bare recognition as infernos raged among neighborhoods. The subcontinents across the ocean were in a similar state, their own cities burning in uncontrolled conflagration.

Then, the invasion forces had landed among the southern coast of that massive continent, the troops, equipment and supplies unloading along a beach head that stretched for miles and miles. To the West, Asari military units were centered, pushing across open fields and into the smaller towns that littered the region. Toward the East, Salarian ground troops had began operations, moving into some of the low laying swamplands. Resistance was expected to be light there with a large absence of civilization. Only tiny hamlets and farms were directly before them, many of them abandoned before the bombardment began.

Turians and Terrans were taking up the central theater of operations, their species suitably built for heavier engagements. At least, far more than the Salarians who preferred tiny strikes over massed warfare.

The first few coastal cities had been relatively clear, holding a few crumbling Toad units that were quickly eliminated by the council forces.

That had been over a week ago.

Rapidly pushing into the next city nestled among some soft hills and a wide river, the firestorm still burned uncontrolled as the native inhabitants lay dead in the street. Bombardment craters had devastated the city center, toppling towering structures to spill them among the broken skyline. Lines of snarled traffic clogged the roads, some of the vehicles pancaked beneath ruin and rubble.

Originally a regional capital, the city of millions was one of the focal points for evacuation and subterranean works due to the natural folds of hills. Bunkers hidden from sight lay beneath the soil, far from prying eyes.

But no more. The defenders had emerged to take up positions in the ruins. While most were standard infantry, multiple militia's of civilians had been raised, most equipped with older bolt action rifles. They crawled the ruins of this massive city, planting explosives, laying traps, and ambushing smaller units with untold viciousness.

The Turian theater of operations and their forward legions were already starting to face increasing resistance, but so far, they were on schedule for advancement.

Captain John Shepard held his M-8 Avenger rifle tightly against his shoulder, his form hidden behind a fallen beam of concrete and stone from a nearby apartment building. Gunfire ripped above his head, a snapping of gunpower rounds that made him think of the historic wars of Earth.

In command of one hundred eighty five men and women belonging to the 2nd company, 4th battalion, they were the spear tip of the 12th Division. But John was fairly certain the enemy wouldn't really care about what unit he was in.

Staying low as another ripping of gunfire slew across the street, he looked around at his company that were spread out among a line of rubble.

"Anybody got eyes on where that fire's coming from!?" John shouted as another loud burst dragged across the wide roadway. Peering over the lip of cover, bullets and tracers flew while his company returned fire. Flashes of light poured from alliance rifles, a horrifying concert of light that raged back and forth.

"Third floor, across the intersection!" A helmeted woman yelled out, her face hidden by the combat helmet. Ducking down to allow her rifle to cool down, snapping bullets smashed into the broken rubble from the enemy infantry.

"Third platoon! Flank it and take them out! We'll keep drawing their fire!" John yelled into his comm piece as rifle fire picked up. Rising, he fired in the general direction of the Toads, but for the life of him, they were well hidden.

"Makes the Batarian's look like novices" He told himself. Firing another burst from his Avenger, Shepard ducked back down as more of those bullets stitched his way. He knew that civilians back home on Earth laughed and made jokes about the Toads and Serans still using chemical weapons, but they could kill nearly as well as anything the Alliance used.

A few mortars came from the enemy held intersection, a plunging explosion of plasma that killed three of his men in a flash of light and screams. The fact that their armor or barriers did nothing to slow down that blast told John everything he needed to know. More mortars began to fall, a sickening splashing of damage that ripped another of his men in half while literally melting the leg of another.

"Into the buildings! We'll get chewed to pieces out here!" Shepard ordered with a roar. Staying low along the line of rubble while bullets tore the air above him, his company began to flood into the devastated ruins around them. Rushing to the right, 1st and 4th platoon began to shift their position.

The building was another apartment building, mostly intact despite some of the upper floors bitten away. Looking back at the street his company had just held, the corpses of his fallen were being chewed up by more mortars, until they suddenly stopped. Most likely their spotter calling for a cease fire to save ammunition.

"Fourth platoon, hold this building. The rest of you are with me. We push north until we reach that intersection" Rapid footsteps had them in the alleyway behind the structure, a canyon of brick and rubble that ran parallel to the main boulevard. Some of the nearby buildings lined the alley were missing walls or doors, another mainstay of the massive bombardment. They gaped like silent maws, but Shepard recognized them as possible avenues of advancement…or ambush. Craning his neck, John didn't like how this alleyway wasn't guarded by even a minimal squad of Toads. Eyes darting to the surrounding buildings as they moved in a spread out line, he lightly flinched as another explosion rattled some pebbles along the ground.

A few civilian corpses lined the alleyway, the bodies buzzing with flies as the nearby gunfire picked up again, like ripping cloth.

"Sir! Lieutenant Wilhelm of third platoon! We've engaged the enemy nest! Could use a distraction, sir!"

"We're on the way, just keep up the pressure!" having to shout as another rippling crump of plasma mortars exploded along the main boulevard, Shepard readied his rifle and led the troops forward through the ribbon of rubble and fallen aliens.

"Captain" Private Donnel pointed, the man slightly lowering his rifle as the sound of crying ebbed between the flow of war around them. A young Klor'vian child was sitting among several corpses, their backed turned. Wearing a tattered vest and grungy pants, the scale mixture of brown and off white seemed to mix with the surrounding rubble.

"We don't have time to babysit, Donnel. Remember, this species is known for fanaticism"

"It's just a kid, Captain. We can't just leave it here to be killed"

Shepard hesitated for half a second, which ended up being a second too long. Donnel rushed forward, the young soldier intent on doing the right thing.

"Hey there. It's alright" Private Donnel uttered in a soothing voice as the young child turned, its hands clutching a detonator.

Only then did the eager private see the front of the vest lined with explosives. "Shi—"

"For Klorta" Pressing the button, the amphibian child was the center of the explosion that vaporized Donnel in a flare of green plasma. The splash damage spread outward, hitting several soldiers as their barriers tried to stave off the damage. Some nearby men and women screamed, the eating green energy sizzling against armor.

The end of the alleyway erupted in rifle fire, a militia squad hunkered down along the second story of a building firing in earnest. Most of the windows were gone, with only a single hole in the wall.

"Dammit!" John roared out as he took cover behind a half shattered wall. Leaning out, rifle rounds tore into the wounded, a vile mercy killing that claimed five more lives of his company. Firing his avenger into the gaping hole, he wasn't sure he even hit anything. The nearby troops were firing as well, creating a fresh hell in the narrow alleyway as bluish flashes of light and rifle rounds snapped and crumpled against brickwork. Leaning back as an enemy round hit his shields, the flare made him wait as they rose to full power. "Blow that building! We can't afford to be pinned down!" John roared out toward Specialist Hendrickson, the twenty year old man weighed down by a M-560 Hyrda.

"Yes sir!" Shouldering the weapon as he took a knee and aimed through the scope, nearby infantry covered the helmeted solider as he locked targets with the distant building. Developed with four apertures along the barrel, they would fire a cluster of mini rockets to take out enemy armor, or in this case, an infantry strongpoint.

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!" Hendrickson roared out while squeezing the trigger. The weapon gave a slight jump as the mini rockets flared out, streaking down the rubble choked alleyway. Impacting the second floor, fire and shrapnel ripped apart the defenders in a wave of heat, noise and debris. Two Toads were flung clear…or pieces of them as the incoming fire ceased.

For the moment, the alleyway was silent despite the overwhelming noise of war around them. Captain Shepard stalked forward, moving toward Private Donnel…or the few pieces left of him. "God, they could fit him in a shoe box"

"Any civilians you encounter, fire first. An enemy that uses their own young to make suicide bombs will not surrender…IS THAT CLEAR!?"

A chorus of 'Sir's' wafted along the gore splattered alleyway. "Lieutenant La'croix, collect the fallen tags then move your squad through these buildings. Who knows what other ambushes are waiting for us. Rest of you, fall in"

"Sir"

Already making up for lost time, Shepard led half the company down the rest of the alleyway. Coming to the building, rubble and bodies were still burning, adding to the hell of it all. Moving through the now broken doorway, several followed as the humans fanned out in a damaged lobby.

Rushing toward the broken bay window of the structure, Shepard gained a proper visual of the street and connecting intersection. Lined with abandoned ground vehicles, the road was clogged with rubble and the dead.

"I want a squad upstairs! Move, before they shift their fire!" Pointing toward the rows of buildings leading to the intersection, Shepard flinched as a burst of rifle rounds came from a ruined shop. A helmeted Toad in full battle armor appeared for a moment, firing a long burst that made John keep his head down. Soldiers immediately opened fire with their rifles, a fresh cacophony of blues and yellows that snapped between both positions.

A woman shrieked nearby, clutching her leg that took a round. Bleeding crimson, two others dragged her out of harms way. Several grenades flew through the air from the Toads, one of them landing inside the building lobby before bursting in a vile spread of superheated shards of green energy.

Alliance body armor and shields did little to slow down that horrid shrapnel as two more men screamed from agonizing injuries that melted and popped.

Firing in a short burst, John knew he had winged that enemy soldier, but the Toad ducked into cover. More rifle fire erupted from the shop, a deadly snapping of metal that cracked the air.

Alliance soldiers moved into the street under fire, taking cover behind ruined vehicles and piles of rubble. Returning fire, Second Lieutenant Fischer raced across the road, slamming against the damaged exterior of the structure. More troops followed the eager young man before he climbed through the gaping maw of the store after throwing in a grenade that blew with a blast of dust and shards.

Gunshots and screams erupted, along with the churning of those horrible lancers.

Not to leave his men alone, Shepard sprinted across the street in a low, zig-zag crouch. Coming to the doorway, he moved in with his rifle raised just to watch one of the Toads carve through Fischer in a gore strewn scream of churning blades. Crimson blood and ichor flowed in a spatter across the multiple fallen corpses, a mixture of human and klor'vian.

John shot the enemy in the back, unloading half of his rifle that tore through the armor and greenish scales below.

"Christ. And the Seran's have been fighting these guys for nearly two years? No wonder the COG hates them" A random private muttered upon entering the charnel house of broken limbs, gunshots, and the ripped apart Fischer.

"Stay alert, private" Shepard ordered as a group pressed further into the shop. Passing the service counter, a gaping hole was in the left side wall, spiling a pile of rubble into the former store. Bracing himself against the brickwork, several more men and women stacked up behind him. Taking a glance into the next building, several Toad troops were firing across the nearby intersection, their target one of the buildings that rippled with Alliance rifle fire. Hunkered down behind several pieces of broken wall, they were distracted by the firefight with 3rd platoon.

"Hendrickson. Get your ass up here" Waiting as the specialist hurried, John stepped back to allow the man to do his job.

A rippling explosion engulfed the next room half a minute later, accompanied by howling screams and dust that choked the air.

"MOVE!" John yelled out as he rushed in, instantly shooting a wounded Klor'vian dead that struggled across the floor. His men finished off the rest, not inclined to give mercy after the losses they've suffered today. Running across the store front, Shepard found himself taking cover behind another half-broken wall as fresh machine gun fire suddenly opened up from the other side of the road.

A trio of his men and a woman screamed, caught up in the rippling fusillade of rounds. One was almost severed in half, bleeding out as his cracked and broken armor did nothing to stop the heavy bullets.

"Fire on that nest!" Shepard roared out. Leaning around the corner, he fired upwards at the visibly sandbagged second floor. The Toads inside had shifted fire toward the closer threat, the weapon no doubt on a swivel to bring the entire intersection under their gaze.

Another Toad appeared, a shoulder mounted weapon pointing toward the building currently housing 3rd platoon diagonally across the roadway of clutter and rubble.

"Wilhelm! Incoming fire!" Shepard shouted into his comm piece, hoping the warning gave some a chance.

A pulse of green, super heated light burned across the road, slamming into the second and third floors. Screams of agony erupted as rubble and damage rained down. Swiveling, the Toad gunner fired fresh tracer bursts into the now open building, enacting a horrid slaughter of lives.

Suddenly, the fire slackened, then disappeared.

"Into that strongpoint! Now!" Feeling the fuel of hatred run through his veins, John knew his company had suffered significant losses today. Rushing across the road, some of his men fired at the sandbagged nest, hoping to the kill the enemy. Taking cover at the yawning gap of a doorway, Shepard leaned in a rapid assessment.

No enemy troops inhabited the ground floor, which only increased the wariness of his soldiers. A group of seven rushed past to a staircase in the back, the men and women thundering up the stairs with rifles ready while a nearby explosion rocked a nearby street with a roar.

"Captain! They bugged out!" a voice yelled from upstairs, prompting the officer to move to the second level. A gaping hole was at the back of the shop at the landing, a decline of rubble and brick leading to a tiny parking lot in the back.

Another pile of ruin to the north of the lot, a ten story apartment complex of missing glass, facades and multiple gaps in the wall stared out from abandoned living quarters. The fourth floor erupted in fire, a fresh hell of snapping rounds and tracers that ripped into the surrounding walls as plaster and dust exploded from impacts.

"Contact North! The apartment building!" Shepard roared out while going prone. Crawling under fire to the wall near the gaping wound in this current shop, he returned fire at the structure. The men and women around him did the same, sending slivers of mass accelerated rounds toward the building. "Third Platoon! What's your status?" John yelled as more enemy rounds stitched at shattered the air. Somebody screamed nearby, a harsh bellow of anguish.

"We got hit bad, Captain. Eight dead and another six wounded from that plasma blast. Second Platoon is securing the surrounding buildings. Got a few holdouts and snipers slowing them down"

"Alright Lieutenant, sit tight and secure the immediate area" Cursing as fresh mortars began to land among their current bastion with snarling hisses of plasma that splashed like acid, Shepard took one more look at the enemy held apartment building. Looking upward, he could picture the Klor'vian mortar teams up on the roof with plenty of spotters directing fire.

John felt himself being picked up and thrown against a nearby wall, colliding with several of his men as a searing, green lance of energy tore through the building right at the stairwell. Tearing away in a flash as his shields flared and cracked from the impact, he could hear a few more agonized screams coming from nearby. "Division command! This is Captain Shepard of second company, fourth battalion! We need fire support! Apartment complex one hundred yards north of my position!"

"All assets are currently engaged with other targets. I'm sorry, Captain"

"Damn! Okay! Everybody fallback to the intersection!" John roared out as he moved down the stairs with a hustle. Activating comms once more, John stopped outside of the sandbagged shop as mortar fire continued to pick the building apart. Moving away from the falling splashes of energy, Shepard took a knee by a flipped ground vehicle with the dead remains of aliens inside. "Fourth platoon! To my position!"

Moving forward in a crouch, the north leading road was a canyon of rubble and broken buildings, some of which were thorough destroyed. Moving to the left side, he hugged the brick wall of the next structure pas the sandbagged shop. His men took up position where they could, all scanning for enemy movement from the north.

For the moment, the Klor'vian's in that apartment building couldn't get a line of sight on them, but that quickly changed as a few fresh mortars landed in the street with vile bursts of green.

"Hug the wall!" John yelled out as men and women of his company stacked up. Leading in a quick stride along the rubble choked street that flared with constant bombardment of mortars, they finally reached the next intersection.

Piles of rubble and fallen buildings blocked anything advancing further north or east, just leaving west toward the enemy position that stood along the next road. Looking back, Shepard was glad to see fourth platoon lagging at the rear as Lieutenant Saikawa jogged up. The helmet blocked the man's Japanese features, but that didn't matter to Shepard as he looked upward at the height of this corner structure that looked like a skeleton of ruin. Easily nine stories, it would have to do.

Bracing as another explosion rocked the nearby buildings, the noise of war was everywhere as John shouted at the man. "Secure this building and start bringing fire on the Toad strongpoint! We'll enter from the ground floor and plant charges! Bring the whole thing down!"

"What about heavy weapons, sir?"

"Use them! Try to knock out their machine gun and plasma lance from the flank, lieutenant!" Giving a hand signal, Shepard rounded the corner with first platoon. Running past the awning doors of that crumbling ruin, his troops kept pace to the target structure.

More bodies littered the streets, their stench awful under the burning gaze of the sun. John felt a tinge of regret for the civilian deaths, but quickly squashed it.

"Remember. This species has already exterminated four, bronze age civilizations and started a holy war against the galaxy. They would not show any mercy toward us"

Slowing to a halt at a gaping hole in the wall of the target structure, Shepard held up a hand to halt. While the surrounding noise was loud, he did pick up voices. Indicating silence, the man in question threw a high explosive, the mark fourteen sailing into the lobby.

Startled shouts erupted before the explosion, the blast ripping two soldiers apart as John leaned out of cover to fire.

Two enemies were down, unmoving from the blast among overturned furniture and a coating of dust. But the remaining Klor'vian squad was unscathed, most taking cover behind central support pillars or the damaged greeting desk along the far wall. Gunfire erupted from the Toads, a deadly snapping of rounds that tore the air. Firing another burst of blue light, the tiny mass accelerated slivers pitted and shattered some of the stonework that surrounded a pillar. The enemy blindfired, a staccato of bullets screaming toward John as first platoon pushed into the lobby.

Barriers flaring from a hit, Shepard pulled back, giving them a few moments to recharge themselves.

"Die…human vermin!" A toad bellowed from behind a helmet as he strode into the lobby, a massive pack hanging from his shoulders. Several alliance soldiers immediately tried to shift their fire to the larger threat, but the enemy's comrades covered the soldier. Chuckling, a stream of green plasma erupted from the weapon, reminiscent of a flame thrower of old. It washed over three men of second company, their armor and shields unable to withstand the horrid heat as their flesh cooked among screams.

Half a dozen riflemen took down the threat, the armor breaking under the horrid exchange as the vile stench of burnt flesh filled the air. A chainsaw spun, the teeth cutting through private Moressey's bracing Avenger rifle that split with a scream of metals…then her shields and armor seconds later. The flying blood and ichor flew as the trooper screamed in horrid terror as her chest was ripped open by spinning teeth.

Shepard fired at the Toad, flashes of blue killing the executor with a well placed headshot that nearly decapitated him. Green bits of blood exploded from the headshot, covering an overturned chair as the body crumpled near his victim.

The enemy soldiers guttered something in their language, the troops laying down a horrendous fire as they began to fall back to an awning doorway to the far right of the lobby. John managed to kill one with a long burst, the enemy armor breaking after six impacts before the alien died among the overturned furniture.

They reached the emergency staircase, one of the helmeted aliens tossing a grenade into the lobby before disappearing beyond the flash of plasma that spread like a cone of acid.

Five of his men were peppered with the embers, their shields or armor taking the brunt.

"Get charges on the main supports! Make sure it falls to the north! We don't want to drop this on our own men!" john shouted in command as the demolition specialist ran up the nearest corner of the building, the woman already beginning to fix the charges.

Walking into the lobby, John gulped while looking down at Moressey's body, the helmet hiding the final moments.

"God damn sir, He just cut through an Avenger rifle like it was made of paper. And Amber…fuck" A private gulped as he crouched nearby, keeping an eye on the stairwell.

"I saw it happen, Private" Crouching down, he yanked of the woman's helmet and retrieved her tags, knowing there was nothing else to be done. "The Alliance and Council may be outclassed here, these aliens ravaged the fleet with minimal losses and their troops have access to plasma weaponry that just eats through armor and shield like nothing" Closing her eyes, John Shepard looked up as his attention was grabbed.

"Charges set, Sir! Ready to blow on your order!" The specialist shouted over another ripping roar of explosions that rocked the broken cityscape to the West.

"Alright! Pull back!" Running out of the building, the alliance troops were suddenly under light fire from yet another building across the ruined street. It was slower, the pinpoints of light coming from a four-story structure that had been gutted.

Klor'vian militia fired from the blasted open floors, their weapons outdated and almost on the same standard of the first world war. But, bullets still had mass and velocity which was made apparent by several troops shields flaring with damage. Twisting and firing as he ran, John put rounds into the second floor. Running around the corner at the end of the street, he fired at the building housing militia forces as his men hurried.

The last one ran around the corner, his arm cradled from enemy fire and seeping crimson through a hole in the greaves.

"Hit it!"

Demolition Specialist O'Conner nodded, the nineteen year old woman from central Florida pressing the button.

The signal was near instantaneous as the two bundles of charges exploded, their force vaporizing the two northern building supports in a massive explosion that tossed a few nearby cars into the air.

Instantly shuddering as those main structural necessities disappeared, the ten story apartment building began to tilt rapidly. Housing nearly half a company of Klor'vian troops along with a mortar contingent and snipers, they were already doomed as the structure continued to fall. Falling faster and faster, it crumbled and broke apart in a spilling of concrete, plaster, brick and steel. Crashing into the northern side of the street, it crushed the militia holdout, adding to the death toll.

Dust and noise erupted outward with a roar of destruction, flying in a plume along the road and canyon filled with rubble and amphibian bodies.

Finding his armor coated in a fine layer of fresh dust and grime, Shepard breathed an exhausted sigh of relief. "Regroup with third platoon and establish a defensive perimeter" Wiping the dust from his short cropped black hair, the young captain walked back to regroup his company, the exhaustion telling on his face. Tapping the command tool on his left forearm, he scrolled through his company roster with a heavy heart.

"One day against these aliens and I've already suffered nineteen dead and another dozen wounded" Looking backward at the broken city of ruin, he wondered how many strongpoints, traps and ambushes the enemy had in this city alone.

In a way, he could understand even if their cause stank worse than the dictators of the twentieth century. "Fighting for your home…there usually is no surrender" Relaying an update to command, Second company dug in as their fellow companies of the 4th Battalion struggled to dig out the enemy to the East and West of this ruined city of death and rubble.

2.8 light years from Vio'shelek system. 21st of Reap, 423 A.E.

Fleetmaster Bo'klar stared down at the holo display, his long range pickets scanning the Council forces in the embattled system. He knew the garrison was holding out despite the orbital bombardment several weeks ago, enacting harsh casualties against the Council forces.

But, that was the infantry's problem. He had to break the Council fleets to the point they fled. Unfortunately, the Turians, Asari and Humans had established a complete defensive ring of ships around Vio'shelek to protect the landings and give support if needed.

The Salarian's were patrolling the outer system in smaller strike groups of one hundred ship flotilla's, each mutually supporting.

He was not foolish enough to assume they didn't know about his spying warships. Bo'klar also knew that every day brought the Council closer to matching them in terms of range and speed. They couldn't make tactical jumps at the moment, which he found odd. Based on their technology level, they should be able to for a brief burst during combat. But they're technological development from prothean artifacts all forced them into the same branch of advancement. Mass Relays and bringing the weight of numbers is how they won major battles in the past. But, by years end, the Council would be able to flood the Caliphate and crush them under weight of numbers.

He didn't even want to think about what the Seran's would do.

Tallying the forces he had, Bo'klar knew how valuable they all were. Numbering approximately twenty three hundred vessels, the wounded and damaged craft remained at Tarn, their repairs steady among the floating repair yards and space docks as new ships were constructed.

A hundred corvettes joined his massive fleet, placing the final total to twenty four hundred approximately. Currently holding in a swirling cloud of gases, the military formation was currently on standby.

Looking upward, his gaze fell upon the flickering holo images of the sub-fleetmaster and the squadron leaders.

Fresh data came in from the observation pickets, showing the current tactical dispositions of the enemy.

"I am open to suggestions on how we are to drive the enemy from Vio'shelek. Share your thoughts" Bo'klar rumbled.

"We engage the vermin beasts over the planet. Our god will see us to victory as our superior arms and ships burn these creatures from the sky!" Slamming a fist down, Low-Commander He'jall was a fresh officer, another handpicked follower of the church. While competent in some ways, his main stance was to 'strike the enemy for Klorta'

Commander Jae'rill snorted, his clawed hand waving in dismissal at the suggestion while his form rippled. "We have limited ships after the treacherous and vile Seran's pulled our brave fleets into a trap near Convel. We must think of an operation that provides the greatest gain with minimal losses"

"You insult the teachings of the church and Klorta?"

Jae'rill shook his head fervently, his scales and facial structure remaining emotionless. "Of course not, I am merely suggesting an operation that gives our forces the best opportunity to remove the massed hordes of our enemies"

Bo'klar gave his assent, letting the officer continue.

"Fleetmaster. A massed battle will quickly turn against us, especially with nearly five thousand enemy ships holding Vio'shelek. If I could lead a strike with my squadron against the Salarians, we could constantly harass their patrols. Jump in using our advanced FTL, fire at what we can, then jump out of system to do it again"

"The church does want us to conduct operations soon, and constant raids will demoralize them, especially the Salarians. Their military is meant for quick strikes and operations, not stand up battle. But eventually we will have to face the massed firepower of the Turians. They have nearly three full battle fleets protecting the invasion along with Asari and Human forces. We must disrupt the operations"

Sub-Fleetmaster Tre'mak shifted his gaze, the older male quickly studying the current dispositions. "I have a suggestion, but it carries far greater risk to the fleet"

"Continue"

"A strike against the landing zones of the enemy. We enter the planets orbit among the enemy fleets and immediately target the surface. I know firing on our own world is greatly distasteful, but if we cause enough damage, our infantry forces may be able to push them back. Perhaps a full retreat if the invasion is at risk of collapse. After all, most of the surviving population and infantry forces are well dug in. The council can't win if they just sit in orbit. But no matter if the attack succeeds or not, we must immediately leave the system or get overwhelmed"

He'jall sneered, the male barely holding his contempt for such a suggestion. "You would suggest we fire on one of our sacred worlds? Do you forsake all our teachings?"

Bo'klar rumbled his throat, indicating silence as the officers muttered and worked over the suggestion. "The idea does have merit, but until we whittle down the enemy forces and morale, the risk is far too high. Tre'mak, you will oversee the raiding operations of the outer system. If we can force the Salarian's to retire, that will greatly increase our chances of interrupting the invasion. A possible raid on their rear area could greatly aid our efforts"

"Do you intent to follow the Mass Relay's line of travel to the source?" Jae'rill inquired.

"I will detach a battle squadron. My lower officers have established the likely travel pathway. Unfortunately, the end point is nearly twenty four hundred light years away. A long and risky journey that would take nearly three months one way. Returning would take another three, and by then, the Seran's might already be on the offensive once more. But, if we can reach their staging and supply area, we can destroy it, further hampering the Councils invasion of our territory"

Looking at the assembled officers, he knew the smug and righteous He'jall would be a poor choice. He craved full battle and liberating Vio'shelek. Odds are, he wouldn't know when to pull back. Especially since the Council's forces were unknown in this far away system. "Commander Gril'va. You will take your squadron and locate the Council staging system. Take a few supply and ammunition ships as well, enough to supplement your forces in case of unforeseen events. Locate the staging ground and destroy all you can, understood?"

"Yes, Fleetmaster. Thank you for this great opportunity" Giving a bow and fist to the chest, the eager officer disappeared.

Utters of 'Fleetmaster' and respect filtered from the officer's throats as their images disappeared in flashes of light.

Retaking his command chair, Bo'klar knew he couldn't just float here doing nothing. It would be reported within days. Tapping a few green keys of his personal command console, he looked up Gril'va's file. Brave, and quickly rising through the command ranks as losses mounted, he had a keen intellect. Plus, he was from Tarn, and a smaller farming town at that with a lighter church presence. "He could be a promising ally. Giving him command of this operation shows my willingness to trust him over an established officer of the church" Internally nodding at his decision, Bo'klar watched as the assembled ships began to break apart into smaller formations.

Pulsing flashes of green engines among the stars quickly faded, leaving Bo'klar and his remaining seven hundred and thirty ships floating in the swirling gases of a spatial cloud.

Sub-Fleetmaster Tre'mak split his forces before entering the system, the newly designated second fleet appeared only half a million miles away from the Salarian fleet and the outer gas giant. Bathed in the swirling colors of the massive planet, he had concentrated the first and second squadrons around his flagship. A million miles to his relative West and East were commanders He'jall and Jae'rill.

Commander Jae'rill knew time was of the essence as the enemy made a desperate, high speed turn under the blazing illumination of the nearby gas giant. His flagship, the Heavy Cruiser Bragloth was primed and ready to fire as the destroyers unleashed their mass of plasma missiles toward the enemy. The frigates were already firing standard MAC rounds, the slugs slicing vacuum like spears of green light.

"Remember my fellow warriors! One pass and then we retreat! The enemy will still be here tomorrow, licking his wounds! Weapons officer! Target that battlecruiser before they can bring their guns to bear!"

"Yes, commander!"

Bragloth glowed green at the aperture of its weapon, then space suddenly flashed as the beam of heated destruction sliced through the night. Impacting the Salarian battle cruiser, the shields struggled and flicked under the attack, only to shatter seconds later. Burning through the armor and outer bulkheads, the beam sliced through the lower decks, destroying the galley and food stores while crew members died from flash heat.

Three seconds later, the mass of missiles swarmed against this portion of the Salarian fleet, their defensive batteries flashing with purple desperation. With a total of two hundred warheads, ninety three percent were intercepted before they could wreak havoc, but that meant fourteen ships would pay the price.

Green balls of spherical energy consumed seven destroyers and three escorts, their smaller hulls and size slagging under the destruction.

"Now! Let us retreat to the rendezvous immediately!"

"Sir! Three of our destroyers have taken moderate damage with another destroyed"

"Acceptable losses" Jae'rill replied to the subordinate as his squadron began to line up a fresh course. The Salarian's were already firing en mass, their warships reoriented to the threat. Several more Caliphate vessels took minor damage, but it was inconsequential.

Pushing to FTL, the raiding force escaped with the exception of one light frigate that had the misfortune of glancing off the bottom hull of a Salarian heavy destroyer. Blinding light consumed both vessels as the velocities involved vaporized both with all hands, leaving nothing but spinning flotsam.

In total, seventeen Salarian warships were destroyed and another ten damaged, a higher loss due to the surprise attack and plasma weaponry employed by the Caliphate. In comparison, the Klor'vian forces lost five vessels, with another twelve damaged.

Tre'mak read the report, his gnarled hands of splotchy yellow and blue scales holding the tablet. Sitting at his command chair, he grunted in slight approval. While the rapid ambush did favor his forces, he doubted the Salarians would just lay back and accept his efforts.

"Our next strike must incur further losses. If we settle for just a few warships every time, we'll be fighting until the stars burn out" Tapping a clawed finger against the armrest, he knew major engagements were to be avoided until new vessels and crews were built and trained.

"Perhaps a massed strike at one point of the enemy fleet? One of their patrol flotillas or squadrons? That could be provide superior results" Agreeing with himself, Tre'mak started planning the next ambush against the Salarians that dared to occupy Caliphate space.

Within a month and a half, Admiral Beral would be forced to retire his forces due to nearly fifty percent losses, despite assistance from the Turians.

This would strain the invasion forces and the fleets, leaving barely forty two hundred warships in the system, a fact that Fleetmaster Bo'klar would exploit as the constant ambushes, skirmishes and minor battles continued day after day, week after week. The losses were an unending sore of casualties, like a seeping wound as morale and spirits fell.

The loss of Bostra, a Turian Battleship on the fifty third day of the operation with nearly half of the crew was especially difficult, and even then, the Caliphate kept attacking and raiding, whittling down council numbers.

Essentially…it would come down to supply lines and distance which greatly favored the Caliphate and Bo'klar's fleets.

System AS-55-HLL1 9th of Frost, 423. A.E.

The heavy cruiser slid through the darkness, her green engines giving an almost warm glow among the tentative debris of some minor stellar matter. Leading two hundred and thirty warships along with ten supply vessels, the Hal'yon was new and primed for combat.

Having ordered a silent running from interstellar space, Commander Gril'va knew it wouldn't last as his ships approached the outer system.

"Sensors?" He whispered, almost worried the enemy would hear him if he spoke too loudly. Oddly, his bridge crew almost shared the sentiment as the journey had been long and risky. For all he knew, they were walking into a killing field.

"Commander. Scans of the system indicate no habitable worlds. Three inner rocky planets with a fourth gas giant and multiple moons. Red dwarf star and random stellar debris"

"What about enemy assets?"

"Approximately one hundred and twenty vessels around the Mass Relay in a standard defensive formation. The third planet has several domed structures and an orbital shipyard. Most likely a staging area for supplies. A smaller flotilla of patrol craft numbering fifty vessels are currently guarding several transports, cargo unknown"

"It appears to be lightly defended…a mistake the Council will pay for" Gril'va smirked lightly, his brownish-red lips and scales enjoying the fortune presented to him. "They probably assumed we wouldn't be able to strike them so far in the rear, a reasonable assumption. Or perhaps fortune has smiled upon our forces and we caught the enemy in a poor state"

"We destroy the warships, then lay waste to their marshalling yards and the escorts. I want this system to be seared of all life by the time we are done"

The bridge crew chuckled, a relief of tension they all felt during this long journey deep into enemy territory.

"Sir" The officer at tactical called, the amphibian bringing fresh attention as the latest sensor scans were uploaded. "The escort ships are moving at maximum sublight toward the main formation. Our detection is highly likely"

"Very well. Proceed with the battle" Sitting back as his ships began to glow brighter around their emerald engines, the raiding force snapped to FTL to force a rapid deployment near the Mass Relay.

Emerging with pulses of green light near the gas giant and its swirling colors of gases and poisonous atmosphere twenty minutes later, the two forces were on a collision course as the hanging alien construct sat among the serene of velvet several million miles away.

Gril'va noted that the enemy were Asari design, the cross shaped ships a tinted blue with mixtures of silver among their elegant curves. "Beautiful ships, but unfortunately they belong to the enemy"

"Hold position. The Asari will come to us. No need to charge in and take unnecessary casualties. Are the destroyers ready to fire their warheads?"

"Yes sir. Enemy will enter weapons range in one minute and twenty seconds"

"Very well" Adjusting his command sash while breathing in the humid air of the bridge, he knew that the Asari no doubt called for help the moment his forces were detected. But, he would not needlessly charge their guns in a foolish mass. Months away from relief or help, he must preserve his force despite his numerical superiority.

That superiority could disappear in an instant.

The Asari fired first, a mass of slugs that left traces of blue streaks across the void as their main guns began to fire a fresh round ever four seconds. Spearing toward the Caliphate ships, most of them would be intercepted by laser defenses.

Of course, as the MAC slugs bore down upon the raiding force, one hundred destroyers launched their rack mounted plasma torpedoes in a massed wall of missiles. Joined with the standard MAC's of the light frigates, the firepower was already heavier compared to the outgunned Asari.

"Target the lead ship"

"Yes sir"

Sitting comfortably, Gril'va could already see the outcome of this engagement as his forward vessels started to blink with stabbing laser defenses, each claiming one of those Asari shells. Of course, some made it through, impacting shields with flaring results…or in the case of two light frigates, taking actual damage to the hull as they took more than their fair share of bombardment.

More of his ships took damage, an expected outcome as one of his destroyers simply exploded from Asari firepower. Perhaps a well placed hit made it to a critical system, causing catastrophic destruction as the ebbing cloud of debris and plasma floated among his stationary force.

The pulsing green beam of Hal'yon was fired at that moment, a searing green lance that burned across the tiny battle zone to cut through the lead Asari vessel. Her shields had shattered, unable to contend with the lance of heat that burned through like butter. A gaping hole was torn through the enemy cruiser, bleeding air and vapor as the wound fissured a harsh green of melted slag.

"Fire again and destroy it" Calmly watching the battle unfold, Gril'va was pleased as the next lance of plasma ripped the Asari light crusier apart, the ship breaking in two right in the middle.

The wave of torpedoes finally reached the main enemy formations, flaring pinpoints of light claiming dozens as the Asari found themselves overwhelmed.

They all knew how destructive those warhead could be if left to their devices. Thirty nine made it through the wall of laser fire, blooming emerald suns in the dark consuming destroyers and their escorts. Shields shattered while hulls melted, the bulkheads ripping open to vacuum while other vessels simply ceased to exist. Five others were reduced to air leaking slag, cripples that were quickly eliminated by Caliphate driver fire.

Already outnumbered and savaged, the female aliens knew there was no retreat for them. Turning to flee would mean death, and facing the superior firepower of the enemy meant death.

The Asari chose a third option, knowing that they would all be dead within half an hour anyway.

They drove toward the enemy at maximum sublight, their blue engines burning in protest as their MAC's constantly fired an un-ending barrage of shells to claim several Caliphate ships that broke apart under the glowing gaze of the gas giant.

Searing lances of green plasma light burned through another vessel, ripping through a cross shaped ship as the bridge crew died in a scream of heat. Hal'yon took several hits, but they were superficial and mildly damaged the shields. With her fire uninterrupted, the Asari really had no counter for the terrible beam weapon except to try and avoid the ship killer. Massed fire continued to be exchanged, a hammering of shells and lances of defensive light trying to stave off death and destruction on both sides.

Another beam of plasma energy sliced open an Asari frigate, the shields and armor no match for the searing heat as bodies and gas poured out of the bleeding wound. Caliphate battery fire soon ripped the wounded vessel apart, killing all on board.

"Sir! The Asari are making a suicide run!"

"What?" Gril'va asked in disbelief. He had studied the Asari. Nothing in their society indicated such actions unless absolutely necessary. Rushing toward the holo-table, his yellow eyes quickly picked up the shrinking enemy command as they burned toward his ships. Barely half of what they started with, sixty three warships were closing on intercept courses with his own.

"All ships are to employ reverse thrusters and maintain heavy fire! I will not let the enemy use our own tactics against us!"

"Yes sir!"

Leaning over the table as a shell hit his shields, a few alarms blared while Hal'yon fired her main weapon once more, the plasma completely consuming one of those desperate vessels. Thrusters flared orange among his command, his officers carrying out their duties as they continued to exchange fire. A dozen more of the Asari craft burned and died for an exchange of three, but reversing thrusters were far too slow to prevent the coming losses.

The Asari craft surged in the last few moments, many of them already burning and broken. Starting the battle outnumbered and outgunned with no hope of escape, most could understand the desperate actions of the shattered command structure.

Thirty five ships managed to close with their Caliphate enemies, a horrible mixture of fire and crumpling hulls as the speeds involved ensured complete destruction. Blooming spheres of blue and green illuminated the night sky, spreading debris like a wave that burned against shields.

Hal'yon emerged unscathed by the final attempt by the Asari, the heavy cruiser having taken only minor damage through the whole engagement.

"Losses?" Gril'va inquired with a fresh snarl, his throat sac burning with rage.

"Forty eight ships destroyed, another twenty two reporting mild to severe damage. Enemy ship losses are one hundred percent. All destroyed"

"Very well. Let us wipe this system clean of the enemy and retreat before reinforcements arrive. We do not have the forces to face fresh ships"

"Right away, Commander" a nearby officer responded with respect. Tasking the fresh orders, one hundred and ninety vessels moved to the space station with all due haste. In less than half an hour, it was brough under fire, the supply and tiny yard incapable of withstanding the massed firepower brought upon it.

Manned by a mixed council force, none would survive as the orbital facility soon crumpled and drifted apart, her latticework and interior open to harsh space as bodies slowly drifted in silence. Pushing past the expanding debris field of ruin, gas and tumbling bodies, the ships were soon in high orbit of the third planet.

A dead, inhospitable world with bare whisps of an argon atmosphere, the surface was dotted with massed ice flows that would never melt of their own accord. Nestled near these bare ice oceans were several domed structures, each several miles in length. Readings indicated protective shields, no doubt to assist in disrupting harmful radiation…not that it mattered.

A searing, green lance of light burned downward, cutting away the tiny embers of an atmosphere before slicing through the shielding. Hammering standard MAC rounds joined in, pulverizing the structures within ten minutes. Opened to the harsh surface, the beings inside were already dead as the vital staging and supply instillations were destroyed with ease.

"All targets destroyed, sir"

Gril'va nodded, pleased with the extent of the raid. While it was possible some of the aliens had survived by taking refuge in some subterranean tunnels, they would be few and far between.

"Excellent. We will depart immediately" Glancing at the time, the officer grunted with another whisp of pleasure. Barely an hour had passed, but it had been a victory for himself and his crews. A minor victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Hal'yon turned with the rest of his ships, the heavy cruiser surrounded by escorts as her engines began to burn a harsh green. A minute later, the squadron snapped to FTL in a flash, leaving behind death and destruction.

Vio'shelek 9th of Frost, 423 A.E.

Admiral Hercus Malmus read over the emergency communications for a third time, the stunning turn of events almost unbelievable. The Caliphate had managed to strike their rear, destroying vital supplies needed for the ground invasion not to mention an entire Asari flotilla that fought to the bitter end.

He had been assured that system was far outside their reach and unknown, but the Toads had found it and struck swiftly.

Thousands had perished in a brief hour, the domed holding yards a complete loss in terms of personnel and supplies.

It was only dumb luck that no staged troops or reinforcements were waiting there, otherwise it would have been far worse.

"I should have requested the Salarians at least hold that system until they could bring more vessels forward" Cursing himself, he knew the blame would fall on his shoulders eventually. "Not that it's a surprise. This entire campaign has been one disaster after another"

Standing up, Hercus crossed the bridge to stare out the window as the enemy world spun below. The ground invasion was faltering, the enemy resisting with unimaginable ferocity and fanaticism. There was no quarter or mercy, something that many officers had to quickly adapt to.

And the sheer numbers of enemy troops appeared far higher than originally thought. Some sectors were actually pushed back a few miles before ground was regained, a bloody messy affair.

The naval losses were even worse. Since the Caliphate began staging raiding attacks three months ago, they've pushed out the Salarian's and destroyed or crippled nearly another six hundred vessels, including three hundred and twenty three Turian warships. While it wasn't one sided at the enemy took losses, they had the benefit of rapid reinforcement and supply due to the fact they were fighting in home territory. Meanwhile, it took weeks for fresh ships or troops to arrive, and those were never enough to give Council forces the advantage they needed.

Vio'shelek was like a bleeding sore that wouldn't stop. Taking one more glance toward the planet below, he could almost see the pitiful progress the Council forces had made in taking this planet.

"ADMIRAL! Enemy warships are entering the system! Estimated numbers twenty five hundred to three and a half thousand!"

His sliver eyes widened at the realization. "They planned this… When we were invading, they were already launching a campaign to drive us out by attacking our rear. The ambushes, the constant raids and attrition. Our inferior engine capabilities…"

"How long?"

"Forty eight minutes until they engage us in orbit over the planet"

Hercus harbored no delusions of engaging in some massive battle over the colony. Even though he still held a numerical advantage with the Asari and Terrans by a good thousand vessels, the enemy showed a vast willingness to sacrifice those corvettes.

Even if he did win this battle, the losses would be catastrophic and retreat would be inevitable anyway.

"Sound a general retreat from the planet. There is a high probability that the navy cannot hold this system"

A female at comms momentarily blinked at the order, but quickly complied, sending the fresh orders of general retreat.

"Prioritize protecting the transports. The Asari will escort them to the Mass Relay" Retaking his command chair, Admiral Malmus clasped his hands, the clawed tips folded as the Turian ships began to move in a rapid turn to face the coming threat. Forming a spherical wall, they only had to wait as the enemy moved closer, the seconds and minutes ticking by.

Alliance vessels under Admiral Hood shifted, forming a box-like defensive formation for the vital troop transports below.

The Caliphate fleet entered extreme firing range with seven hundred and fifty brand new plasma corvettes surging forward with engines burning a sickly green. Firing their torpedoes en mass, the suicide craft blinked into FTL, a sudden flash of light.

Alliance and Turian vessels immediately fired at the estimated routes of those damned vessels, a wall of flying slugs meant to hopefully disrupt and destroy as they engaged in desperate maneuver of flaring sublight engines.

There was mixed success for the defenders as plumes of plasma ripped across the sky, a claim of three hundred and eight three ships that died in pyres of heat among the silent dark. Another one hundred eighteen missed their targets, flying into the massed wall of Turian defenses that ripped them apart like flaring moths among the night. But that didn't stop the rest from reaching their objectives, the fanatical three man crews of the replaceable craft purposely flying into the combined fleet hanging above one of their sacred worlds.

Terran and Turian vessels suffered the same fate, a near equal loss of sailors and naval ships that suddenly found themselves rocked with catastrophic speeds and velocity. Nearly one hundred and seventy Alliance vessels burned and died from the kamikaze ships, their funeral pyre's burning an emerald green as they broke and burned. Hulls ripped open among the Turian formations, a momentary ebb of destruction as the Caliphate craft landen with plasma charges exploded upon impact moments later, sealing the fate of thousands despite the best efforts of the allied species.

Space burned with heat and raging plasma, the corpses of ships exploding or flickering with horrid damage.

Admiral Malmus couldn't afford to be saddened by the sudden losses. His ships were raging with defensive fire as massed walls of torpedoes flew toward the fleets, each capable of destroying or crippling the vast majority of the vessels present. Stabs of blue and green lights burned across space to claim those speeding munitions, each explosion signaling salvation for a crew and ship for the moment.

But for every three or four destroyed, one would break through snapping laser defenses to ripple against a ship's shields, the barriers flaring with extreme heat as the outer armor bubbled. Another eighty three Hierarch vessels would take substantial damage, their armor cracked and buckled while some visibly glowed with slagged plasma eating through the hulls. But their resolve carried them forward to continue the fight, even as they bled air and crew. Unfortunately, forty two escorts would pay the ultimate price, the smaller craft unable to withstand the destructive forces. Green flashes burned among the night as those ships died, their slagged corpses trickling vapor and the dead as the Turian fleet continued to return heavy fire.

"Admiral! The Caliphate fleet has halted at extreme range! They are simply bombarding our battle formations! Casualty reports nearly a third of the remaining Terran fleet has been destroyed. They are holding formation, Sir"

"Maintain fire and position. Every minute we buy now is another for the evacuation" Sword of Honor fired her main gun a moment later, sending the MAC shell to strike a distant enemy vessel as the Toads did the same with the high orbit of Vio'shelek almost burning with war.

Fleetmaster Bo'klar knew his commanders wanted nothing more than to punish the Council fleets hanging above their sacred world, but he would not give the enemy satisfaction.

He'jall nearly roared in disobedience, his flickering image floating above the holo table.

"WE MUST STIRKE NOW! The enemy has burned our world and must fear Klorta's wrath!"

"No! Maintain position and keep firing on the enemy. We hold a sliver of advantage and we must preserve our forces for war with the Seran's! Or would you prefer to fight them with no ships at all!?"

"You coward! Weakness pours from you veins as our people die!" The holographic representation flicked away, replaced with the system and battlespace once more.

"Fleetmaster. The Cruiser Fral'tik is moving out of formation along with the rest of He'jall's command squadron"

"The fool! He could ruin everything!" Charging toward the enemy like this would only weaken the fleet and mistakes could not be tolerated. The losses could actually tip the scales in the Council's favor, ruining any chance of driving them from the system. With his throat sac turning a vile crimson, Bo'klar tried to clamp down on the rage as his eyes narrowed with fury.

"Target his ship and destroy it. An officer that cannot follow simple commands has no business here on this day" His voice was a barking snarl, ripping through the bridge. No outbursts or dissent came from his loyal bridge crew, the sailors understanding Bo'klar's campaign of reconquest.

Targeting the traitorous ship, two beams of plasma energy sliced out, cutting into the engines with sickening ease. Ripping though the vital workings, Fral'tik died with a scream of separating bulkheads and leaking air.

Ironically, two Terran shells ripped through space at that moment, finishing off the vessel in a searing blaze, not that it concerned Bo'klar. Frankly, He'jall's devoutness would have been a serious problem in the future. This provided an easy way to cull a problematic officer without arousing suspicions with the church or those he could not trust.

"Fleetmaster, his command force has returned to position"

"Good. Emphasize the need to follow my orders if we are to be victorious today. Our brothers on the ground need us to win this battle and we cannot make foolish mistakes" Clasping his claws behind his back, the Klor'vian stood among the humidity of the bridge, his command sash damp with errant moisture.

"Gril'va's success made today possible. He role will not be diminished by the church, I will see to it"

Ships fired, an unending stream of shells and streaks of defensive lasers that burned across thousands of miles. Searing beams of green energy sliced through the vacuum, the offensive weapon cutting through smaller vessels with a sickening ease.

Idly thinking about the transports waiting at the edge of the system, they were laden with nearly two hundred and fifty thousand ground troops. Many no doubt eager for battle to enact vengeance.

A destroyer exploded nearby, the whisps of gases, bodies and shattered hull spreading out. But the loss was minimal, a mere pinprick as the Caliphate fleet bombarded from distance, none taking the fight toward the enemy as they returned a heavy fire like an unending slug-fest.

John Shepard ran low, a stream of rounds screaming above his head. Somebody cried out, an agonized scream of torment, but the Captain had no idea what direction it came from. A mortar fell nearby among the churned rubble of the city, ripping apart two unfortunate men who barely had a chance to scream their death cries as plasma shards sliced their bodies to meat ribbons. Sliding into cover near some members of his company, he recognized Specialist O'Conner.

"We thought you were dead, Sir!" She yelled with a thankful bellow. Staying low behind the crumbling wall, a soldier nearby fired his Avenger rifle, the blue rounds cutting through the early morning at one of the enemy who hunched back down.

"Not yet!" Popping up, John fired at a Toad soldier surging forward in a hunched run. Striking center mass, seven pulsing rounds put the enemy down as green blood sprayed. Ducking his head down as fresh rounds ripped the air, Shepard was thankful for the helmet surrounding his head. Otherwise, the noise would've been deafening.

John momentarily listened to the comm chatter from division and the picture painted was horrible. Caliphate infantry had launched a massive counter-attack to coincide with the arrival of their fleet. The numbers alone were daunting as units were either pushed back, broken, or simply obliterated in the last few hours.

His own company had fared slightly better than most, but only because they had been moving upward to the main line, not that it mattered now. Now his job was to get as many of his troops to the transport.

He knew many were already dead.

Popping up to lay down fire with several troopers, they managed to keep the Toad's heads down for a moment, but their numbers would soon overwhelm them all.

Rippling explosions brewed up along the left flank, a volley of shells that ripped apart several men and women. Their screams were horrendous, only to be immediately silenced by gunshots and spinning chainsaws.

"Damn, they're already on our left flank! Keep moving and get to the transport!" Shepard yelled out as he fired another burst down range, the rubble choked street representing a scene from hell.

O'Connor and the rest of the group moved, each hopping to cover and providing fire support for others scrambling to reach the transport. Tracers snapped nearby, slamming into a broken wall as John flinched away. Stumbling into the next place of cover, the skeletal remains of a ground car charred by fire provided some safety.

The bodies inside were blackened, no doubt burned alive during the bombardment. Leaning out of cover, Shepard fired his rifle down the road at a few Toads. He winged one, but the rest took immediate cover and returned fire, the bullets pinging like rain against the vehicle. Looking toward the rear, John could see the massive transport several blocks away. Casting his gaze up as a sudden clap of thunder shattered the atmosphere, an Alliance ship burned, the vessel breaking up upon reentry as fire trailed like a comet.

It crashed into the city suburbs to the East, rocking the ground like an earthquake as the engine exploded like a tiny nuclear bomb. Ruined buildings collapsed, a fresh wave of destruction no doubt killing soldiers of all sides as raging fires consumed the skyline.

"GO! Just get to the transport!" Shepard roared out as he picked himself up. Starting to sprint as bullets continued to fly around him, the man staggered from an impact in the back. His personal barrier held, a flickering of blue energy.

O'Conner screamed with a tumble, the young woman a victim of gunfire that ripped through her left side and barrier. Blood flowed, her gasps staggered as John spun to fire another long burst down the road at the advancing Toads. He managed to kill one, the burst punching through the neckline to nearly sever the helmeted head. But his comrades were still moving under the flashes of gunfire.

"I got you" John breathed out while picking up the wounded soldier in a fireman's carry. He felt awful as she screamed from the movement, but Shepard couldn't leave her just to be executed. Running low as more tracers flashed and cracked past him, John was horrifyingly aware of how rapidly the front line was collapsing.

He managed to reach the transport, the sprint up the dis-embarkment ramp another rush in physical strain. Setting down O'Conner on a medical cot, he was relieved as a few medics took over.

Sprinting back down the ramp to the rubble choked street, Shepard took cover inside the ruins of bombed out building, the floor still littered with alien dead with a rancid stench that could peel paint. "Anybody of Second Company or Fourth Battalion, converge on my position! I'll hold as long as I can!"

Popping up, John was thankful a few members of his company had the same idea, the men and women doing their best to establish a temporary line. Flashes of blue light stabbed down the road, a fusillade of energy that killed a few charging enemies. Shepard popped up, firing at a sprinting Toad that was trying to shift between two piles of rubble. Ten rounds from his Avenger punched through the chestplate, killing the alien as several Alliance soldiers ran past, two of them carrying a badly wounded man on a stretcher.

"Hold the line for as long as you can!" Shepard yelled out as he rose up from behind the crumbling wall of brick and stone to fire into yet another enemy soldier. He managed to wound it, spilling the alien into the open before it was finished off by another Alliance soldier without a sense of mercy.

A flash of green to the front and right flank caused unholy screams, the stream of heated plasma washing over three men behind a low wall, reducing them to melted kindling as the Klor'vian wielding the plasma thrower chuckled darkly.

John immediately shifted his fire to the enemy soldier, but the alien had already ducked out of sight, the ruin and rubble hiding his form.

More Alliance personnel sprinted fast, some wounded, others making their way into the transport in a broken and shattered line.

Shepard fired and fought, doing his best to keep the enemy away, but the numbers were simply overwhelming. Gunfire snapped from the left, killing the man next to him in single moment. Turning, more Toads were shifting through the rubble of fallen buildings and choked alleyways, bringing fire on his shrinking position.

"Fall back! Get on board now!" John yelled to the other men and women. Firing in a backwards walk with several others, they laid down a fusillade of deadly light, but it was too little to stem the tide. The Toads were pushing toward the transport, barely half a street away as they filled the air with deadly lead. Shepard grunted as another round smashed against his shields, a fresh rippling of energy that had saved his life, but would fail under constant hammering.

Walking backward up the loading ramp, his Avenger rifle was nearing overheating temperatures, the slivers of mass slowing with each shot.

"Get your ass inside, Sir!" Lieutenant Saikawa yelled, pulling John backwards as the ramp closed with a blaring alarm. Pings of rifle rounds sounded like rain on the heavy ramp as the seals engaged for the ascent, but Shepard didn't hear them over his own breathing. Taking off his helmet, the young officers face was a line of loss and anguish. Bringing up his command display, the number of killed or missing for his company was heartbreaking. Over a third were gone, already killed or no doubt being hunted down in diminishing pockets of resistance.

Turning to Saikawa, John could see the exhausted look in the man's eyes as well. "Any word on the rest of the regiment? Or anything?"

"We fared better than most, but some of the forward units are just…gone, Sir"

John gave a small nod of acknowledgment, knowing that was likely the case. This counterattack had been massive, timed to work with the arrival of the enemy navy.

"We weren't ready for this" Those thoughts were interrupted by a heavy vibration of the large naval transport. Alarms of fear rose, mixing with cries of the wounded as John looked around with a fresh crease of worry.

"That can't be good"

Fleetmaster Bo'klar was damn pleased with how the battle proceeded. While he had lost nearly two hundred forty ships during the long range bombardment, the simple fact that his cruisers and two Dreadnaughts could kill nearly any enemy ship with one or two beams from their main plasma weapon gave them a great advantage. Not only had the initial corvette charge garnered pleasing results, but his total losses were far less than the Council's.

Another twin beam of searing plasma cut through space, slicing apart a Turian light cruiser, the vessel dying a harsh death as the wounds flickered with fire and flash freezing vapor. Avian bodies spilled from the wound as the ship came apart, only to have the forward portion ripped to shreds by standard shell fire.

"Fleetmaster! The Council vessels are starting to turn and flee like cowards toward the relay!"

"Excellent. What of their ground forces?"

"Communications are still unreliable at this time, but it appears that the enemy has completely abandoned their efforts. If any troops remain, they will be hunted down and exterminated"

"As expected. Now maintain pursuit of the enemy fleets until they flee the system. Once our space is secured from the enemy, we will oversee the landings of reinforcements for Vio'shelek"

"Of course, Fleetmaster"

The Caliphate naval vessels pursued with haste, firing into the exposed engines of the rear elements. A vital weakspot of any space faring vessel, dozens took crippling damage as MAC rounds and lances of plasma cut into the vital workings of the retreating ships. But the Caliphate wouldn't be able to catch the majority of the exodus fleet, only the straggling rear.

Yes, Bo'klar could close with their FTL capabilities…and subsequently ruin any chance of preserving the remaining naval forces of his people. A massive engagement with the Turians, while still likely to fall withing his favor, would be crippling.

He had achieved a great victory today and would not jeopardize it just to destroy a retreating enemy and humor his ego.

A few more Turian vessels fell out of line, their burning hulls broken and leaking air before being smashed to pieces by standard rounds.

"Fleetmaster, the enemy forces are entering the relay"

Now was the time. An important part of his plan to save his people. Tapping a few commands into the touch screen attached to his chair, he sent the data packet to comms.

"Communications. Send this data packet to the retreating Turian flagship"

"Fleetmaster?"

Bo'klar curled up his large lips in a pleased grin. "Should the enemy not fear our strength and resolve? The might of the church must be made clear to the Council that they have no chance for victory against our people. This message will only serve to weaken their broken morale and hopefully break their alliance with the Serans"

"Ah, I see Fleetmaster. It will make them think twice about war with our people and the strength of our god" the specialist agreed before sending the data packet to the fleeing enemy.

Bo'klar knew some of his crew would wonder about the comm package and no doubt view it. And when they did, they would see his proclamations of creed and love of Klorta, the strength of their people against the squalid masses of the galaxy.

None would find the hidden message layered deep within the data stream. Any prying eyes would see what they would want to see…a message no doubt approved by the church for breaking the enemy spirit.

Sitting back as his ships continued to fire, the naval action soon ebbed into nothing as the last of the council ships made transit, leaving shattered ships, floating corpses and a failed invasion.

The Citadel 12th of Frost, 423 A.E.

Tevos gripped the data pad with trembling hands, the reported disaster and loss overwhelming. Sitting at her elevated station in the main council chamber, she tried to calm herself as Councilor's Procus and Junisa read the same after battle reports.

"Spirits. Nearly one hundred twenty thousand war dead among the invasion forces. Nearly twelve hundred vessels crippled or destroyed with another eighty thousand naval dead. A loss of nearly all our heavy equipment…this is a disaster"

"You forgot the Asari losses at AS-five five. A flotilla completely destroyed along with the entire marshalling yards. Easily another fifty thousand dead" Tevos stated with a shaky voice. "Have we informed the Seran's yet?"

"Most likely they already know. But so far, we haven't received any statement official or otherwise"

Tevos could almost imagine the ridicule from the Coalition. She was sure Diaz would just love to see the Council fail and falter at the worst military disaster since the Krogan Rebellions.

An incoming transmission reverted her attention to the holographic display along the far wall, the identification matching Admiral Malmus. His visage appeared moments later, a light blue as the Turian appeared.

"Admiral. I want you to know I've been in communication with Primarch Darril. He believes that your actions for withdrawal were well reasoned. Despite the horrible losses, your actions no doubt saved tens of thousands of lives and a majority of our invasion fleets. Your honor and conduct will not be called into question" Council Procus informed, knowing that the officer had been presented with a sudden disaster. While no doubt many Turians would call for his resignation, Procus knew the military leader had done the sensible thing.

Malmus visibly eased his stance, no doubt the worry about his reputation and honor causing undue stress. "Thank you, councilor. But that is not my reason for contacting you today" Pausing to initiate a data transfer, the admiral continued. "As I'm sure you're all aware, during the last minutes of our retreat, we received a message from the Caliphate fleet"

"I've viewed it. A whole slew of religious fanaticism and how the Council will fall before the might of Klorta and the strength of Caliphate soldiers. Nothing but propaganda" Tevos waved with dismissal.

"On the surface, yes. But there was a second transmission embedded in the data stream. I just finished viewing it and believe the Council and Seran's will want to view it as well" Giving a salute, the Turian disappeared with minimal words.

Tevos quickly found the data file, the temptation to play it strong. Admiral Malmus wouldn't have sent some simple propaganda film from the enemy to them, so she had to believe it was worthwhile. Especially considering the military disaster they just suffered. "Get somebody to summon the Alliance ambassador and Diaz. If this concerns the war, she'll be furious if we don't include her government in whatever's in this file"

Rubbing her temple, Tevos knew she still had to make a statement about the retreat from Vio'shelek. The public would be furious at best.

The rippling form of Chairman Diaz stood upon the holograph projector, the woman's arms crossed. Ambassador Ichika Kojima was nearby, her exhaustion apparent. After all, the news had somehow broken already which really was not surprising considering the numbers of species, ships, and troops involved. The Japanese woman cast a weary eye toward Diaz, expecting the normal gloating of superiority the Serans were know for…especially when comparing to Terran military affairs.

Diaz studied the gathered aliens in the room, her normally hard stare momentarily softening. "For what its worth, I am sorry your forces suffered such a loss"

"What? I expected you to ridicule the failure of Terran soldiers or obsolete warships. Something along those lines" Kojima lightly spat, her mood already soured. Feeling the stare of the chairman, Diaz looked her way as the particles of light rippled.

"The fortunes of war can suddenly change. The history of Terra has multiple lessons in this, as well as all the species present. Or have you forgotten that the Coalition was in full retreat for the first six months of the war? We suffered numerous defeats and extreme losses. Yet at this time, we have now secured nearly half of Le'hak and continue to push forward every day. So, while your defeat is a significant setback, it will be temporary considering your industrial capacity and populations" She took a breath, shifting her stance lightly. "Now, what is this about? Coalition naval forces have located two more Toad worlds and wish to start planning offensives"

Councilor Junisa hit a few buttons, simply finding it easier to begin the play the video file than to explain.

A Klor'vian appeared, the creature an obvious officer by the command sash draped around his scaled shoulders. The coloration was unknown, simply a shifting of blue and whites that was the staple for the council chamber. With clawed hands clasped behind his back, the Toad blinked.

"I am Fleetmaster Bo'klar. I lead the initial defense of Vio'shelek and hopefully, the reconquest. I have waged war against the Serans and burned several of their worlds. They in turn have done the same…genocide committed by all sides. But I am sure the Coalition will not see it that way which is acceptable. However, I did not risk this message to compare battle achievement's" The Klorvian shifted, his recording revealing even the drips of condensation across his scales. "This war is a horrific travesty. Started by a twisted church that has no interest in following the word of Klorta. A message to preserve life…ALL LIFE! And they've twisted it to fit their mantra of conquest and genocide for generations!" His throat went dark, bulbous with discoloration before receding in hue. "I know none of your species has any cause to believe my words, especially after the fanatical actions of Fleetmaster Ki'nav against the Asari. Complete madness of a simple-minded fool" Snapping the last words with recognizable vitrol, Bo'klar continued. "If the Councilors are watching this recording, then I have likely retaken Vio'shelek at great cost to your forces. A victory that will solidify my prestige. Prestige that I will need to topple the church and bring forth a new government. If successful, I will pursue peace with the Coalition and Council to finally bring an end to this madness" His tone and facial structure almost became sorrowful, filled with regret. "I have studied the projections of battles, the weight of industry and numbers. I have determined that if this war continues, my civilization will be exterminated within eighteen months…perhaps a little over two years from now. Perhaps my people deserve it for our crimes, but I must try to save the remnants before it's too late" His eyes blinked, the reptilian stare similar to the Krogan in some ways. "The Supreme Priest, Y'larv wishes to launch a massed corvette fleet against Thessia. I will do my best to divert the resources to standard naval formation…consider the warning a gesture of goodwill. Do not attempt to contact me. If this message is discovered, I will be executed"

His image fluttered away, a simple dissolution of pixels. Almost as one, the representatives turned their gaze to Izabel Diaz. The fresh scowl crossing her face was easy to see.

"Chairman? What do you think?" Tevos asked, her own emotions a whirl.

"He seems to be earnest in his desire for peace, but the Coalition will not halt any military actions against our enemy. Not only have fresh council volunteers recently landed to supplement the invasion of Toad Three, but suddenly halting will just give the enemy time to reorganize and retake territory. Then there is the possibility of this…Bo'klar failing in his coup"

"But shouldn't we attempt peace with them?" Kojima suggested, only to receive a scoff from the Chairman, Tevos, and Procus. "The Asari will not forget the atrocity this species has committed. We will continue to pursue the war with the Coalition. While ten million war dead is nowhere near the losses the Serans have suffered, it is still significant. However…if this Fleetmaster succeeds in toppling the fanaticism of the Caliphate and pursues peace with us, we will give them one last chance"

"Agreed. While I would like to see a change in their government, we cannot assume it will be successful. The war will continue" Procus stated before casting his gaze toward Chairman Diaz. "It will take time to reorganize and reinforce our forces. But, the first dual mass drive are being fitted among all our respective militaries. I'm told it will allow us continued use of the relays, emergency FTL capabilities for battle, and a range of approximately thirty light years per day. If the war is still ongoing, it will be a surprise for the Toads"

"Indeed. However, I'm far more interested in what this Bo'klar stated. If he says the possibility of defeat is only two years away, they must be far weaker than initially thought. This could hasten naval actions against Toad Four and Toad Five" Suddenly ending the transmission, the fluttering of light pixels faded.

"I'll inform the Prime Minister of this development. But until deemed otherwise, I suggest we keep this secret"

"Obviously. The fanaticism of our enemy is well known. Even the slightest whisper could doom this change of government and continue the war. Secrecy must be upheld" Junisa rapidly spoke, the Salarian blinking rapidly.

Tevos sighed wearily as the assembled beings left the room, the weight of so many war dead was heavy. While this Bo'klar had infused the minor chance of hope for peace, she knew that it wouldn't happen tomorrow. Standing up, she wanted nothing more than to just lay down and rest, but the reporters and news stations of the Citadel wouldn't accept that. She had to say something and hoped it would be enough.

Glortha System. 518 ly North West of Le'hak. 28th of Sorrow, 423 A.E.

One thousand eighteen slipspace ruptures tore open space in the middle of the system, the void between worlds devoid of gravity wells or significant mass. Disgorging like the harbinger of death and destruction, Anvil Gate entered normal space like a silent monolith. A bulky weight that represented a rifle, the flagship of the fourth fleet was already at battle stations as hundreds of vessels spread out in a standard assault doctrine. Transports and supply ships floated among the whips of gas and minor stellar matter, surrounded by the defensive envelope of the navy.

Preliminary pickets had found the system weeks before, but the status of defenses hadn't changed at all.

It was completely undefended.

Admiral Alya Carmine sat in her command chair, the Seran officer contemplating the slaughter she was about to initiate. Some might consider it a war crime or genocide, but frankly, she didn't give a damn. The Toads deserved every horror, every death and she would ensure this world would be fully claimed before Le'hak was brought to heel.

At least she didn't have to deal with the C.A.G units. Frowning, Alya had to admit they were doing better than expected, especially with a constant stream of volunteers. To a poor Terran from the slums of New York or Shang-hai, two years service and a plot of land on Pandora was a vast incentive. Still… "Some Krogan would be nice. Or a few Turian regiments"

She really couldn't fault the Council forces for falling back at Vio'shelek. It had become untenable in a matter of hours and only a fool would have tried to fight through the complete destruction of supply lines and a massive counter-attack.

Sure, the Citadel News Network and random civilians were quick to scrutinize and condemn Admiral Malmus and other officers, but Alya could easily relate to retreat and loss. "Damn Terrans. Crying over a few hundred lost ships and eighty thousand war dead. Their ancestors fought two world wars and they cry over minimal casualties"

Breathing deeply, the woman with flaming orange hair dismissed the thought of obnoxious Terran civilians. "Sensors? Any changes to the system or defenses since the initial picket?"

"No ma'am. All indications show only a minor shipyard in orbit of the colony and some asteroid mining facilities. Several freighters and civilian craft are trying to make their way to the colony"

"Detach Lieutenant Commander Diaz's cruiser flotilla. Full destruction of all enemy space assets" She ordered simply as the bridge crew went about their business. Tapping her finger on the arm rest in a bit of restlessness, the woman stood and strode over to the holograph table. She had studied it constantly, but if she was honest with herself, this mission was too easy.

She had participated in some of the worst naval battles of the war and to simply walk into an enemy system, especially one with a colony felt…odd. Of course, she wasn't going to complain. Alya was damn glad to make these fanatics pay for every sin they've committed against the Coalition. Casting her eyes down to the symbols of her fleet, eighty vessels, including two Cruisers peeled away to begin their path of merciless destruction.

Rapidly separating, the main fleet burned fast toward the third planet across the cold void.

"Valentina Diaz. The Chairman's only daughter. Competent and doesn't flaunt her mother's position" watching the icons of ships slink through the floating display toward the outer asteroid belt, Alya reverted her gaze to the system and colony itself.

Five planets, two of them outer gas giants of blue and purple and a small collection of moons. One asteroid belt separated the inner rocky worlds, obviously rich in metals and minerals. The sun itself was a main sequence type G, nothing really special about it nor the two inner worlds that were sunblasted, airless rock.

But the third planet? Even Alya had to admit it was a beautiful world. Looking out the main windows of the bridge, the planet in question hung like a marble as the fleet positioned itself in high orbit as two tiny moons drifted by.

A single continent shaped like a bird's talon inhabited the Eastern Hemisphere with a crumpled mountain range two thirds of the way across its central mass. Several large lakes were in the center of the continent, no doubt supporting several of the small cities that dotted the landscape.

It was the ring of islands along the western hemisphere that really added to the beauty. Obviously the result of a planetary impact eons ago, the circle of island chains, volcanoes, and tropical landscapes formed a near perfect ring among the deep blue oceans that spanned the entire Western hemisphere. Tiny pinpoints of light inhabited some of those tiny specks, which was unfortunate.

Alya Carmine took one more gaze, comparing her home of Oceania to this world. In a way, she felt a small pang of guilt, but the needs of the war came first.

"Target all urban centers. This world will be seared of the enemy and brought into the Coalition. Once bombardment is complete, the landings will commence immediately" Retaking her seat after the order, Carmine waited patiently as the targeting was completed.

"Shame really. Some of those islands are pretty" Sam commented as the AI fiddled with her armor that shifted with code. "Now that is interesting…"

"What is?" Alya asked with simple curiosity.

"I tapped into sensors. The normal amount of communication traffic for a colony this size is almost absent" Sam went silent for half second, the AI rechecking and doublechecking in the time it took to blink an eye. "Most of the cities and towns on the mainland are empty, Admiral" zooming in on the planet displayed with shifting pixels of light, Sam highlighted the northern mountain ranges and rising hills. "I'm detecting numerous roadways and construction among this portion of the continent. I estimate a ninety one percent chance that the majority of the population has taken shelter in mountain and subterranean bunkers. Heavy defensive works are likely"

"What about the island settlements?"

"They will no doubt be fortified as well. The Caliphate have had more than enough time to dig out emergency shelters. Possibly across their entire settled space"

Tapping a finger on the armrest of her chair, Alya knew that if the enemy was dug in, the need for reinforcements would be higher.

"Can you estimate the total population?"

"Based on the size of urban centers, farms and spread of settlements…somewhere between three and five million"

"Very well. Destroy any Klor'vian structures, not matter how trivial. Once that is complete, we will begin the bombardment of their presumed emergency shelters and bunkers. Obviously, the infantry will have to plan accordingly"

"Ma'am"

The aperture of four weapons began to glow a harsh red along the pointed bow of Anvil Gate, the energy building until releasing in a stab of searing light. Jutting downward through the clouds, the four Hammer of Dawn beams impacted the capital city of the colony, reducing it to a charred wasteland of rubble and fire. Roiling flames licked through the streets uncontrolled, claiming the few amphibians unfortunate to not heed the evacuation.

All across the planet, the fourth fleet targeted any structures detected, visiting a pulverizing destruction against infrastructure and homes. Farmlands burned, the crops alight as the bombardment continued across the young colony.

Within the hour, the attention of the fourth fleet was pointed toward the central mountains, the orbital bombardment blasting the surfaces of nearby hills of life. Forest fires raged, choking the skyline with glowing ash while constant shells rained down on the mountain range in the hopes of pulverizing the enemy.

For three days the bombardment rained like fire, an unending storm of metal and impacts that did succeed in killing approximately twenty three percent of the population hidden in their subterranean fortifications.

Glortha 32nd of Sorrow, 423 A.E.

Steam and humidity practically poured from the surrounding jungle, a stark contrast to the charred devastation that had befallen the two cities of this island. Shaped like an elongated hourglass, it was the largest island in this sector. With a width of twenty miles and length of eighty three, the landmass was more than enough to hold a sizable population. Ancient, dead volcanoes rose from the center of the island, standing nearly twelve hundred feet above sea level. Teeming with foliage and local wildlife, several rivers were fed from the mountains and the elevated lakes, splitting the ruined city in half before spilling into the harbor. Distant hills were part of the geography, rising up to meet the mountains that no doubt contained enemy troops.

Another mountain rose in the hazy distance at the northern tip of the island, the charred and blasted surface still burning as the second major metropolitan area sat at the base of that mountain, a cratered ruin of structures and raging fire that billowed ash into the sky.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, the skies to the north an ominous black as a tropical storm dumped rainwater and high winds across some of the smaller islands that had been ignored. If anything, they would douse the inferno to the north when the storm arrived at evening.

Helmeted men and women shouted, the unloading artillery, tanks, soldiers and supplies clogging up the devastated city scape. Located at the southern tip of the island around a curved harbor, the 17th Sarfuthan Rifles continued to disembark and rapidly deploy through the shattered buildings and streets. The massive transport itself sat near the harbor. Her sister division, the 19th Sarfuthan Rifles along with the 35th Denavan artillery were deploying along parallel lines into the charred city, the unloading going smoothly so far.

There was no enemy, but the veterans among the division knew that would quickly change as the landscapes around the city rose to rolling hills. The main road cut through the lowlands of the island, pushing along the coast and fields of tropical crops. Already, several Centaur Tanks were rolling down the wide road, pushing ruined vehicles out of the way as their infantry escorts fanned out into the nearby jungles and fields.

It would not be long until enemy contact was made.

Specialist Anthony Wallace wanted nothing more than to wipe the sweat upon his brow as his company moved into the jungles that teemed with chirping wildlife, hoots and constant buzzing insects. Carrying a scorcher, the nozzle's tip had the tiniest flame, just waiting for the jellied fuel to erupt upon his command. "Damn, this humidity could be cut with a knife. How could anybody live in this shit?"

"I feel fine. But then, I didn't take off my helmet in this sweatbox" Private Donnely quipped back, another green gear like Wallace himself. Pushing past several tufts of leaves and branches of lime green plantlife, the men and women could feel the ground already starting to rise.

Wallace shrugged, his off color silver hair already plastered to his skull. A keepsake from his mother and the light genetic meddling his parents decided on before he was born, the eighteen year old Seran supposed it wasn't the worst color.

At least it wasn't a bright, florescent pink or vomit yellow like poor Corporal Deller.

"Marcus Fenix said it best. I'll be able to spot snipers better"

"Be quiet unless you want to get gunned down by the Toads. We all know they've dug in here, along with dozens of other islands that we still have to clean out. So shut it and eyes front" Sergeant Andrade ordered, the female instantly taking her own advice and spreading out as she scanned for the enemy in this thick foliage.

Sudden machine gun fire and tracers ripped though the jungle and two nearby Gears, one of whom screamed as he fell into the dank dirt. Rifle fire began to pick through the trees and leaves, claiming another Gear as Wallace fell prone.

Rifle fire erupted around him, his comrades returning fire toward the presumed source further up the rolling hill of jungle. Crawling along the jutting roots and raw earth, Anthony managed to make it toward an earthen embankment of sorts as bullets cracked above his head. Yelling and shouts mixed in with the gunfire, a ripping sound that slew through the foliage like a scythe.

"Stay down, dammit!" Andrade yelled through her helmet, the Sergeant firing blindly into the jungle as more Gears collected at the embankment of eroded soil. Yelling into comms, the woman was shouting coordinates as her squad tried to find the hidden enemy.

Wallace stayed down, hugging the earth as more enemy rounds zipped and snapped above, each round shredding leaves or chipping away at rotting trunks.

Barely a minute later, artillery began to fall on the hill further ahead, a thundering rain of steel that ravaged the hillock. Each shell vibrated the earth, a shaking that Anthony felt though his teeth as the battalion's artillery continued to burn away the jungle without a care.

Suddenly it let up, a silence that was almost welcome. To his far left, Anthony heard another ripping of machine gun rounds, most likely the Toads that survived the brief barrage.

"Third squad, follow me and stay low dammit!" The Sergeant shouted as the exchange continued along the company's line, a constant drum of yells, screams and gunfire. Moving in a walking hunch, Andrade worked rightward among the embankment and dried out wash, the terrain getting steeper with each sweltering yard. Climbing became labored and difficult, some Gears almost losing their footing.

Coming to a stop, the Sergeant waved Anthony forward then peered over the lip of dirt. "See that bunker?"

Anthony peered across the freshly bombarded hillscape, some of it clogged with the broken trunks of trees or burned away. Narrowing his eyes, he saw the submerged slit bunker, the opening ten feet long as it sat still higher up the hill and at a heavy diagonal angle from himself.

There was no way they would've spotted it from further down the hill. Hell, a frontal attack would've chewed up any unit.

"Sure do, Sarge"

Another nearly concealed bunker came to life further away, rifle and machine gun fire pouring down the hillside at some Gears that tried to move forward only to pay a heavy price.

"See that shallow gully from rain runoff on our right? I think it's a blind spot. We get close enough and you burn those bastards out, get me?"

Nodding as more artillery fell on yet another hill further along the line, the young man began to crawl after his Sergeant with several other Gears behind him.

The approaching bunker erupted with machine gun fire, the ripping tracers and rounds shredding the jungle below as Gears returned fire to little effect. Continuing to crawl along the elevated gully of dirt as the Toads continued to fire at other targets, Specialist Wallace soon found himself within twenty feet of the bunker, the erupting fire a ripping thunder of death and destruction on his comrades below.

More screams and cries of the wounded made Anthony clutch the weapon tighter, anger flooding his veins and the desire to kill this fucking race.

Andrade pulled a flashbang, the tab popping off with a click before throwing it overhand toward the bunker slit.

Landing near the opening, it blew with a flash of light and noise, no doubt sowing some distraction as Anthony sprung to his feet and ran as fast as he could. A few lighter rounds snapped past his head, one of them winging off his shoulder armor with a spark as he pointed the nozzle tip inside the bunker opening and squeezed the trigger.

Flames erupted among a sea of napalm, the rushing stink underwhelmed by the horrible alien screams coming from inside. Fire licked out past the barrels of the machine guns, along with a Toad trying to crawl out as fire burned his armor and flesh beneath.

Andrade shot the flaming alien dead as she ran past, waving the Gears onward. "Get in those bunkers and clear them! Wallace, get your ass in there with them!" Climbing over the bunkers top, the Sergeant disappeared from view as Anthony followed, the charred smell of flesh strong in his nostrils. Nearly falling into a partially caved in slit trench from artillery fire, the male regained his footing as his squad pushed forward.

Plasma mortars began to rain down, a welcoming gift from the Toads that fortified the next hill and ridge line a hundred yards away and fifty upwards as Anthony stayed low, running with the Gears as a burst of plasma roiled across the earth.

Screams of burned men and women erupted from below as the Gears continued to push forward up the lines of hills, the Toad mortar teams enacting a horrid butcher's bill among them.

Sergeant Andrade stood next to a dugout opening, the next bunker a surging noise of alien shouts and gunfire. Rapid hand signals were all Anthony needed, the specialist appearing in the sunken doorway. He found four Toads inside, three of them bare-chested as humidity dripped off their scales. Firing the emplaced machine guns, one of the aliens was already spinning to shoot an older bolt action rifle.

Anthony let another stream of cleansing fire and heat wash over the hated foe, their scaled flesh and screams filling his senses as they flailed like bugs in the flame. The ceiling shook as a short mortar round smashed the roof above, raining down dirt.

"Smells like grilled frog in here, lets move" the female sergeant ordered with a nod of her head, the light joke grim and dismal as charred aliens covered the earthen floor.

A splashing scream of plasma rocked the trench line twenty feet back, ripping apart three men, the fresh cries of medic ringing out as one clutched the burning stump of his lower leg, his wails haunting.

"Keep moving forward! You sit here and those toads will chew us to pieces!" Captain Aigle yelled, the helmeted officer rushing further down the slit trench with a full platoon of Gears to clear more of the first bunker line that held this hilltop.

Anthony ran behind his Sergeant, the scorcher nozzle clutched tightly as rifle rounds snapped from the ridge above them. Mostly inaccurate due to the fact that they were in the trench, some rounds did find targets as a few Gears grunted from impacts. Tufts of dirt rained down into his dirty, white hair from bullet impacts above the trench line.

The zig-zagging trench turned toward the elevated ridge, a sharp turn that became a T-intersection. His Sergeant darted across the opening, several rounds pinging and zipping like angry hornets. Taking the opposite side, the helmeted woman returned fire, her lancer chattering with flashes. Anthony took the corner she had just vacated, taking a quick peek as a recessed door in the side of the ridge swung open at the end of the trench. Built up concrete and firing slits lined each side of the door, a rifle sticking out to disgorge fire.

"Destroy the vermin!" A Toad roared out, the alien rushing forward to a line of crates hugging the left wall. Five more of the creatures rushed low and fast, putting up a wall of rounds as they took cover where they could. One threw a plasma grenade, the orb bouncing short of the intersection as the explosive flashed green, spewing heated shards into the wooden walls.

"FOR KLORTA!" one of the aliens screamed in vile hatred while running low, trying to reach the Serans as he fired on the move to little effect.

Andrade tossed a frag sideways, the blast ripping the fanatic to fleshy pieces seconds later, then commenced to lay down fire. An alien scream soon gargled with choking blood, one of the aliens thrashing while clutching his throat.

"Wallace! Hose em' down!" firing another long burst to keep the Toads occupied, Anthoy surged forward in a roadie run, kicking away chunks of alien viscera. A rifle round cracked past his ear, taking a small nick of flesh that caused a hiss and flinch. Enraged at the enemy for the slight wound, Anthony slid into cover behind another collection of crates as alien troops peppered the cover with bullets. More plasma mortars erupted from somewhere along the ridge, landing farther down the hill before a sudden artillery barrage returned the favor, a hellish blast of noise that chewed at the secondary line.

Buzzing, vertical lift Ravens soared overhead, nod doubt laden with Gears to take the top of the mountain summit as more artillery marched forward, pounding any noticeable fortifications missed during the initial bombardment.

That momentary distraction as Anthony looked upward almost cost him his life.

"DIE SERAN FILTH!" A Toad had sprinted forward, probably a militia volunteer judging by the old rifle and obsolete armor. The bayonet was sharp, a wicked blade that was already lunging toward Anthony. He barely swiveled in time, the sharpened tip scratching along his chestplate in a downward furrow. Plunging the tip of his scorcher nozzle into the abdominals with a hard thrust, Wallace was all hatred. "Burn"

Flames erupted from the Klor'vian's mouth and eyes seconds later, a hellish stench of charred flesh and meat that easily consumed the beast. Flinging the burning pile of flesh from his weapon, Anthony leaned out to spray down a second plume of napalm. Well within range of the remaining enemy, it washed over them like a charbroiled nightmare, earning fresh screams of torment. One ran past, fully engulfed and howling agony only to be cut down by the Sarge's lancer that ate through the alien's shoulder cavity in a fresh spray of gore and cooked meat.

Running forward as the firing slits still erupted with gunfire, the solider jinked as a bullet slammed into his left side, the blow a heavy hammer of kinetic force. Grunting as he stumbled from the bullet stirke, a second round cut the air above him, hitting another Gear in the leg behind him. Pushing through the sudden pain and no doubt heavy bruising that would occur, Anthony made it to the bunker wall of concrete, sidling up right nest to the firing slit on the left.

"Fucking Toads! Burn!" He roared while pushing the nozzle into the vertical slit right above the rifle barrel poking out. Squeezing a fresh spurt of flame, the male was rewarded with fresh screams of torment.

Sergeant Andrade rushed into the open door of the bunker with a stream of Gears in her wake. Gunshots and screams erupted from within as Specialist Wallace followed, knowing he would be needed soon. Ripping chainsaws and sparks erupted from further ahead, the Sarge struggling as a Klor'vian leaned forward, the green lenses of his helmet filled with ominous hatred while chainsaws screamed.

"Sarge!" Running forward, he tackled the alien ruining the almost victorious duel for the beast. Struggling to land a blow or kill each other, the two rolled across the concrete floor in a mad grapple.

"Move, Wallace!"

Anthony rolled away, kicking the enemy in the groin not that it would do much with the armor in place. A fresh scream of spinning teeth plunged down into the soldier's neck, spraying green blood as the head came free.

Andrade gave a slight nod, acknowledging the assist that saved her life. Bracing as artillery rumbled the bunker, she took a moment to reload. "Clear this bunker, Gears! Those Toads have a mortar line somewhere and we are lucky enough to do something about it! Get topside and make them see the error of their ways!" Men and women ran past, making a beeline for the lone staircase that disappeared upward along the far wall.

"Wallace. How's your fuel?"

Anthony checked the small fuel display, the weight of the tanks on his back a reminder of what he carried. "Seventy percent, Sergeant. More than enough to send these bastards to join the locust"

He could almost see the grin behind her helmet, the female giving him a light push forward as gunfire erupted from the stairwell. A call of medic bellowed soon after, along with a blast of a plasma grenade that flashed in reflective light. More screams erupted, prompting Wallace to rush forward with his sergeant and more reinforcements from the company.

Rushing up the steps as more gunfire erupted above, Wallace managed to hold down the bile as he moved past several Gears that had been ripped apart by that earlier plasma grenade. One was missing an arm, the wound dripping a horrid mixture of red and melted flesh as a medic tended to the wound. Reaching the next level, Wallace stepped in the churned entrails of a Klor'vian, obviously cut to pieces and stinking like rotting meat as splashes of green and crimson blood coated the stone walls of the blockhouse. Pressing his body against the corner, he tried not to breath in the vile mixture of moisture, blood and charred flesh as bullets snapped back and forth.

Several Gears were hunkered down behind supply crates or taking cover in tiny alcoves nearby, exchanging fire with the enemy further down the hallway.

"PLASMA THROWER!" One of the Gears yelled, the man rolling into the stairwell, knocking Wallace backwards just as a stream of super heated plasma roared through the narrow tunnel, burning and licking at everything it could burn.

Horrible screams erupted from a Seran that failed to reach safety in time, the vile energy eating with a gusto as the unseen Klor'vian unleashed a second stream to kill the horribly burned man.

Deciding to risk it, Anthony moved to the corner once more, taking a peek as his nostrils cried from the nightmarish stench of a burning comrade.

"Hehehe…Seran filth…" the Toad chuckled as he stepped forward with his plasma thrower and strapped tank. A few more aliens were running forward through the passageway, bare-chested and using only bolt action rifles as one fired from the hip, the bullet going horribly wide.

Wallace lifted the nozzle of his scorcher and swung around the corner in one move, already squeezing the trigger of his weapon. One of the aliens shot at him with a guttural yell of fury, the bullet snapping into the nearby wall in a narrow miss.

A plume of fire and napalm erupted, rushing twenty five feet down the narrow passage way as the enemy soldiers cooked and screamed, the amphibians trying to douse the flames eating at their scales and flesh. One clawed at his eyes, the fire eating at them in a horrific nightmare before a nearby Gear laid down a burst, cutting the enflamed aliens down in a chatter of rounds. Popping and crackling flesh cooked, filling the tunnel with a vile stench that made Anthony hungry and sick at the same time.

"Keep moving, Wallace!" Andrade yelled, the Sergeant leading the way as more of the company filtered into the blockhouse, the men and women intent on clearing this portion of the line. Taking cover at the recessed section of a storeroom, the female Seran fired down the tunnel at more Toads that had taken position near the next stairwell, the exchange a constant crash of rounds.

Rumbling outside and a shaking of the walls indicated more falling artillery somewhere nearby, hopefully far enough away from the Gears at the front. Wiping some of the sweat from his brow, Anthony ran low and fast to the next piece of cover as several Toad rounds snapped through the air. Scrambling low behind a supporting beam, the man breathed as a fresh scream of dueling chainsaws erupted from further ahead. Taking a peek, Private Teresa Wallin was already carving into the Klor'vian's shoulder clavicle, the spread of gore and viscera spraying over the female Gear. Kicking the remnant chunks of meat away with a hateful kick, the private retook cover behind another support beam. More bullets flew and snapped, a crashing hell of noise and war as the Serans pushed forward, cutting and shooting their enemy dead without any mercy.

Anthony ran forward in a hunched run, hugging the right side of the wall. Another churning of a chainsaw and spraying red blood meant the end of Private Donnely, the young man dying at the staircase. The helmeted Toad kicked the corpse away, then was promptly shot in the helmet by Sergeant Andrade, the round ripping through the green lens of the eye hole to burst out the back in a fragment of green blood and bone.

"Wallace! Get up here and burn these assholes out!" The sarge yelled as she pressed against the corner, a fusillade of rounds ripping the air without a care. The heavy rounds shredded the opposite wall, an obvious machine gun based on the noise and amount that fired in short bursts.

Anthony ran forward, the tank of napalm fuel heavy as humid sweat dripped down his dust streaked face. He was still at sixty three percent, hopefully enough to clear out this damn blockhouse dug into a literal ridgeline. Coming up to the corner to the staircase, he breathed deeply as the stifling dust and air were almost clogging his lungs.

"Expose yourself, Seran! Let us kill you like the vermin you are!" A hidden Klor'vian taunted, the gravely laughter soon drowned out be a fresh machine gun burst that fed tracers across the passageway. Some furrowed at the corner, spitting shards of stone and concrete as the bullets flew by.

The sudden halt of fire was Anthony's chance, the Gear swinging around the corner to expose himself to fire. Squeezing the trigger, the scorcher erupted with a fresh plume of fire, the heat a deadly temperature in the dust ridden gloom. One of the Toads on the upper landing managed to fire off three shots before that vile napalm washed over his body, eliciting a horror of hell as the alien and two of his comrades became screaming match sticks engulfed in a burning pyre.

Specialist Wallace staggered badly, his armor taking the three round burst across the broad width. Dispelling the flame, the man coughed heavily, his chest piece showing the cratered bullet impacts that fissured with damage. Raising a shaky gloved hand, he felt the sites as the gentle probing caused a fresh wave of pain.

"They didn't go through. Your damn lucky. If that Toad had managed to concentrate his fire on a single point, you'd probably be dead or dying"

Coughing once more, Anthony eyed his concerned Sergeant for a moment as a few Gears rushed past the charred corpses clogging the stairwell. His eyes watered and head thrummed, causing him to grab his canteen and drink. The water was cool, and damn delicious as it quenched his parched throat.

"Can you still fight? Or should I call for a medic?"

Anthony scowled at the question. "I can still fight Sarge, no problem. Nobody ever won a war complaining about a few bruises. Save the medic for somebody that really needs it" Regripping the long nozzle of his flamethrower, the man knew he would never forgive himself for retreating with such minor wounds.

"You'd make the Allfather's proud"

Another rumble of artillery rocked the blockhouse, along with snapping gunfire from the level above mixed with Seran and alien screams. Sprinting up the narrow staircase to the next floor, the close quarter combat was raging as the flash of a plasma grenade burned like a reflective beacon. A Seran howled as the eating fire bubbled and ate his armor, taking part of an arm before a Toad shot the Gear dead.

Crouching at yet another pile of supply crates, several Gears were down, most of them dead with plasma burns or gunshots. Four other Gears were hunkered down in the first firing slit room, the corpses of the Klor'vians inside a mangled mess of limbs and green blood. Their machine guns still pointed outward, no doubt having claimed countless lives but thankfully silent.

Another ripping fusillade erupted from further down the hallway of the top floor, Toad machine gun fire of a second bunker visiting hell on the men and women outside.

More of the enemy guarded the main hallway, a constant firing of rifle rounds that split the air. Some were encased in full armor, others appeared to be second line troops or militia based on the old equipment. Either way, it didn't matter to Anthony.

"Time for some roasted frog legs!" Exposing himself to fire, several bullets snapped past his head, while one furrowed off his shoulder armor, a spark and blow indicating a fresh hit. One of the aliens was priming a plasma grenade, most of his form hidden in a tiny storage alcove.

A stream of napalm surged outward, eating and cooking alien flesh twenty five feet away. Howls and cooking meat filled the bunker, pops and sizzles accompanying the hellish sounds and smells. A burst of green plasma ripped further ahead, the grenade dropped as the owner burned and thrashed like an enflamed moth.

Specialist Wallace sprinted forward, the stench filling his nostrils along with charred ash that billowed. Coming to the nest room on his right, the thunderous machine gun fire from inside was unrelenting, and needed to be silenced. Swinging into the room, Anthony saw two of the weapons mounted and manned at the slit port while a third enemy was rushing toward the door with a long rifle lowered to skewer the man. The hammering noise of heavy rounds was like the end of the world, but Anthony was already spraying down a fresh wave of napalm.

The charging Toad erupted in screams, the fire eating at the brown scales as Wallace washed the flames over the machine gunners, the aliens unable to do anything about it. They became like charred kindling, one of them crawling out of the slit in a vain attempt to escape the hell he was enduring. More charred stenches of flesh and meat filled the bunkers air, a noxious and strangely welcoming smell that reminded Anthony of grilled chicken.

"Damn Wallace, you've practically burned this whole bunker yourself"

"Just doing my part, Sarge" Grinning, the two moved toward the exit hallway, a reinforced cavern of rock and concrete that vibrated with falling artillery strikes in the distance.

A few more eruptions of gunfire and alien screams echoed from the far reaches of the bunker, but soon fell silent as Sergeant Andrade made her way to the heavy door, the locking wheel squealing as Private Wallin and another Gear turned it.

Stepping back, the heavy steel door swung open, revealing the top of the ridge line. A sunken trench line loomed before them, a pockmarked hell of broken alien corpses and flung limbs that stunk with fresh offal. Sergeant Andrade stepped forward, her lancer rifle pressed firmly to her shoulder as the helmeted female stepped over the disemboweled corpse of a Klor'vian. Coming to a collapsing intersection of the trench line, Andrade swung right, finding the mortar firing pit.

"Looks like the artillery did our job for us" Wallin commented, the Gear kicking a dismembered foot away as the thunder of the coming tropical storm picked up. Glancing north, she looked with several others in concern as the darkened clouds loomed in a rapid approach to the island.

Snapping gunfire came from the next hidden bunker further up the mountain, followed by a long burst of machine gun fire that ripped into the loose dirt around the ruined mortar pit and trench line.

Anthony couldn't pinpoint where the fire was coming from as he hugged the earthen wall, but knew that eventually the Gears would have to dig them out from the next hill. Lightning flashed, mixing in with a heavy rumble as thunder made itself known.

Enemy artillery erupted from an unknown source further along the central mountain range, the target the main hi-way far below as the Klor'vian's hoped to sow death and destruction among the rapidly advancing units in the flatlands.

Anthony was sure some Serans just died, but he really couldn't hear anything over the constant echo of warfare that engulfed this large island. Responding divisional artillery responded a few minutes later, but everybody knew the Toads had probably retreated the piece into some dug out bunker.

A concussive blast roared down from the sky, a thermic lance round from a long shot cruiser targeting the lone peak at the far end of the island. Burning hot and bright, the horizon seemed to burn upon detonation before the noise arrived, a howling noise of wind that resembled a scream of torment.

More pillars of fire continued to fall from the sky, the fleet resuming the bombardment as the gears of war continued to churn…

Phew! Took a little longer than expected but the chapter is done! Hopefully everybody enjoys it! And if you're curious, the war should conclude either next chapter or the one after that. Also, don't expect just a few filler chapters then the Reaper war. I want to establish a different galaxy and everything. Granted, there will be some minor time skips, but there could be some time before the events of ME1 start so keep that in mind.

Anyway, read, review, and enjoy!

The happy