The Federacy...
'Triple-Eight' eyed the retreating Legion forces through the sigh of his tank's main cannon. He grinned. It was the first time these robot bastards actually retreated in open view of an entire armored brigade. Sadly for the human soldiers of both the UNSC and the Alliance, this was not the rout that it was on other fronts, like the Roa Gracian or Wald fronts. That didn't really matter to them.
If they didn't over-extend, they'd be fine, he thought.
Triple-Eight was the nickname of a Giadian tank commander that had once been deployed to the Republic of San Magnolia in order to train other tank crews of their reborn, yet still fledgling military. He'd seen some shit that he never thought he'd have to see being righted there and part of him had wanted to outright refuse training someone as immoral as the Republic's Alba population. Then, he saw them dragging their own asses through the mud, being trained by UNSC personnel in order to fight. He'd changed his mind.
He also thought the chicks were pretty cute, too. Still, he couldn't really focus on that right now. He radioed, "Halcyon Actual to all Halcyon elements, confirm ambush preparedness..." as he peered through the enhanced zoom of his tank's scope. The onboard ballistics computer provided accurate target ranging via laser rangefinder and tracking capabilities. The thermal blanket prototypes they'd also draped over their tanks helped massively in hiding them from the Legion's retreating units.
"Halcyon Actual, Halcyon-2, confirming readiness. All systems green."
"Actual, Three. Rabotaym."
"Four to actual. Five by five and green to pop some turrets."
His squadron-mates were anything but normal, or rookie. Two had been by his side as his Executive Officer in the Platoon since the dawn of this entire clusterfuck, even before they fought against the machines their eggheads created. Three was a weirdo from Roa Gracia that had recently joined them as an exchange pilot for their mechs. Four was a greenhorn in her right, but she was decent.
Actual replied, "Good..." with a grin, then started counting down, "Three... Two... One... FIRE!"
The entire treeline erupted into flame as APFSDS rounds left the barrels of the cannons. One round struck the forward vehicle, another struck the rearmost and the third and fourth hit the two middle vehicles of the formation. Two tanks and two Ameise lay, destroyed and blocking the road ahead of the Legion. The officer of the tank group radioed, "SPEARHEAD, they're all yours! We'll support!"
An affirmative reply came in the form of a double-click from the com. The man saw the allied vehicles on the motion tracker of his helmet's hud, rolling forward through the forest at breakneck speeds. 8,8cm magnetic cannons let loose volleys of APFSDS rounds that tore asunder the advancing beasts of steel and armor belonging to the enemy. The damnable Legion was in full retreat.
That meant that SPEARHEAD could be their Grim Reapers. Shin led from the front of the formation the first half of the squad. As the Legion turned about to engage them, their 120mm cannons and 14,5mm MGs letting loose. Shin and his team agilely dodged, the man utilizing his Para-RAID to call out, "Raiden, we're entering Point Beta. Pincer is almost complete."
"Copy and confirm, Shin," Raiden's voice echoed into his mind. The red-eyed Undertaker danced past enemy shells as they struck the ground, geysers of dust and debris launching into the heavens. His gun stabilized as he locked his gaze onto the lead enemy tank. He fired, the shell spitting out and striking within a second, boring a hole into the turret ring which sparked and detonated the ammunition.
Bullets sparked off the angled forward hull as the 14,5mm MGs of the Ameise tracked. Shin turned his blades around on them, feeling their slight shake on the stabilized arms as he charged them, cutting the machines down like a scythe going through briar. Each slice and cut further dulled the blades thanks to the continuous vibrations within, but they cut through the beasts of metal just fine.
Raiden emerged in Wehrwolf just behind a squad of Ameise, his autocannon and MGs catching the beasts in the rear and shattering their plates. In the distance, Kurena in Gunslinger fired from a distance. Her magnetic artillery cannon's shots arced beautifully high into the sky, before coming down upon the remaining enemy tanks with precision. Kurena cheered over the com, then fired again.
Beside her, Haruto provided cover, while Anju and Lecca had joined Shin and Raiden respectively in the fast assault role, cutting down multiple enemy mechs with their own guns. All the while, Triple-Eight and his crew simply fired a shell or two in support, the man kicking his boots up on the dash and watching the slaughter unfold. He told his gunner, "These kids are gonna win us the war, man..."
"Wish they didn't have to, sir, but I agree..."
After the battle, the staff of Spearhead descended back to their FOB, thankful that another day's work and another routing Legion unit was met and destroyed. Even with their rebuilding capabilities, the Legion's forces were still losing important units. Their allies' gunships, having also flown sorties on some other parts of the front, touched down at the base's landing pads, built up by the SeaBee battalions.
Shin watched Longsword Bombers coming in for landing as well, their bays empty. For all he knew, they'd dropped EMP Payloads on other Legion units that were retreating, meaning a much easier job for the boots and tanks on the ground to deal with the enemy. He heard a whistle and cocked his head to the left to see Grethe, a tablet in her hand. Behind her were the husband and wife ONI Agents.
She spoke in greeting, "Captain. I presume you've heard that the Republic held just fine, too, right?"
"I have," Good ol' Shin Nouzen nodded, thankful for the fact they might get to keep that promise after all. Another pair of Pelicans took off from a separate landing pad, a Gunship and a MEDEVAC bird, the former bearing shark jaws on the nose where the 40mm autocannon was, while the other had a red cross in a white square on the sides of the Blood Tray.
Part of Shin thought for a moment just how fitting that name must've been for the UNSC's aircraft. Blood Trays. Must've carried a lot of the dead and wounded of any and every war they fought. Meanwhile, Grethe, noticing he was in a bit of a fugue, spoke slightly louder in order to get his attention, "You will probably also have read the Casualty Reports. Lists of names and the likes?"
"... Twice-over..." Shin admitted with half-a-mouth. Grethe chuckled, while the two Spooks behind her grinned. He told them, "I'm glad her name wasn't on any of them. Damn shame we lost too many good people thanks to the Purity Party's inability to surrender peacefully..." before he pulled up his own tablet and asked, "I'm gonna assume they're deplyoing ODSTs and SOFs to deal with them, right?"
"A raiding party should be kicking in the door to the Catacombs as we speak," She replied, arms crossed, "Well... Doors. Grates?"
"Doesn't really matter as long as they're gone, does it?" Shin completed her thought pattern. He pulled up some data and wrote into it, then spoke, "There's a chance the enemy might bring up their Railgun... Try to cover the retreat..." before turning it and showing a rough outline of what seemed to be a more ancient form of 'railgun'. A Rail-mounted superheavy cannon.
"UNSC Reconnaissance flights escorted by EM-capable fighter-bomber units are already running interference and trying to locate it. We're basing it off of how thick the cloud of Eintagsfliege is around an AO and then sending in whatever we can in terms of ground units to scout it out," Grethe explained calmly, "The more Resistance we meet, the more likely an important asset is gonna be there."
Shin tilted his head toward the Longswords that were taking off. Grethe nodded and Shin nodded approvingly. The UNSC knew how to fight a war properly and with their BattleNet now slowly coming to prominent use among the ground units, coordination was also getting easier. He wondered, however, just how long would it be until the Legion itself managed to counter them. They were starting to adapt faster, as he'd written on reports to the Admiral and her Board of Officers.
"Y'know," Grethe offered, smiling, "It's nice to see air power finally making its return in this damn war. Feels like they clipped our wings for too long... Might ask one of the UNSC Pilots to teach me how to fly a Longsword, be there to provide you kiddos air cover myself. It, or a special project I got 'Upper Management' to approve the rebuilding and upgrading of."
Shin raised a brow and Grethe chuckled, putting a finger up to her lips, "Top secret, Captain. I'll show you and your squad when the time comes. Suggest going to them, though. They must miss their Captain and I have some more business to attend to. Just wanted to see if you were aware that she's okay..." only to smile. Shin, cracking a small smile himself, gave a nod of thanks.
After bidding goodbye to each-other, the two officers went their separate ways, with Shin entering Spearhead's Barracks to the sight of Theo and Lecca fighting over something while Haruto watched and laughed. They were fighting over Theo's notebook. Shin rolled his eyes and said, "Lecca, let Theo be," as he walked over to brew himself some coffee.
Lecca rolled her eyes and replied, "You're no fun some times, boss," only to hand Theo his notebook back. She approached Shin and leaned against the table, then said, "So, I guess you saw the reports, eh? The fuckin' Purity Party nearly couped back the UNSC during the siege... And guess who Prez Monet has to thank for saving her ass? The ODSTs that stayed with us."
"I heard Major Volkov and his men got medals off of that," Theo said as he plopped himself down on the couch, grinning and drawing. He continued, "Y'know, both UNSC and New Republic tin. Make'em look extra fancy in the Dress Uniforms while on Parade."
He winced as Anju slapped him upside the head, cradling a stack of books on cooking. She set them aside on the table and said, "Be nice, Theo. Medals denote they've done something. We all got some ourselves, namely Purple Hearts for a few certain wounded. Plus, those men deserve it. Volkov and the others basically saved the hope for Democracy the Republic might have post-War."
"I'm more-so just saying, Anju... I don't think we need little ribbons with fancy shaped tin on them to know we did stuff," The artist shrugged, leaning back and looking at the silver-haired beauty with a smirk, "We have the scars and stuff to prove it. So do they. You saw Old Man Volkov, Horvat and Agnes. Three people I personally don't ever wanna piss off..."
"It's more ceremonial, Theo," Raiden told him from across the room as he threw darts at a board with Daiya. Throwing one into a colored small rectangle near the center, he turned to him and spoke, "Like you said, 'to look Fancy in the Dress Uniforms'. Your average civvie won't know what you, I, Shin or so many others really did in this damn war. They'll know tales of the young, dashing and unwilling heroes who threw themselves into the fire to protect an ungrateful nation..." And that got a few laughs out of everyone else, before he grimly continued, "None of them will ever know the dirty work, but at least the medals will help them imagine a little."
Theo sighed, shrugged and said, "Fair enough, man..."
Daiya quipped, "Oh, don't look so down, T. You gotta admit, the Colonial Cross looks cool!"
He snorted, "Focus on the game. Raiden's gonna kick your ass."
The blonde boy blew a raspberry, before swiveling about and taking his turn. He threw and hit the wider white space beside Raiden's, earning himself less points. He winced, to which Raiden grinned and took his turn, carefully aiming the next throw and launching it toward. Haruto, who was hanging upside down on the Couch, said, "Hey, we saw no other major casualties from the defense either, so that was good, right?"
"No people we knew," Theo sighed, then paused, "Wait... You guys, there was one."
The entire team turned toward him. Shin knew who he was talking about, but Theo still looked at him as if to ask for approval. Shin nodded and sighed, taking a sip of his coffee as he listened. Theo spoke, a little softer, "... The Major's mom..." And everyone gasped. He told them, "Sorry, Colonel, but... You catch my cold. Reports from the people she worked with read that she didn't die in her house..."
"She was acting as a field medic, rescuing the wounded by the side of the UNSC's own Corpsmen," Shin added, taking another sip from his coffee. The looks of surprise that had found their way onto his comrades faces told him that they hadn't expected this. He nodded and pulled up the Posthumous report, "The UNSC has posthumously promoted Nurse Margareta Milizé to the rank of First Lieutenant for her heroic actions that resulted in sixty-seven lives saved, UNSC and San Magnolian Army alike, including four Eighty-Six Pilots. She has also been posthumously awarded with the Colonial Cross for valorous actions under fire and will be buried with full military honors."
A moment of silence settled upon the room. A combination of surprise and respect for the Fallen. Kurena and Frederica, who had just entered when Shin read that report, stood at the door, both solemn as they stared. Normaly, Kurena would've made some snide remark about White Pigs or... Something she could've drummed up. This felt like neither the time, nor the place. For the first time in her long life, she felt a pang of guilt and sadness for what was once their former oppressors. No, not for them. For the girl who tried to fix things and had luck on her side.
Everyone in the room sat quietly, wondering how Lena was taking the death. She should've been out of the hospital by now, considering everything...
San Magnolia Military Memorial Cemetery
We cheat death from its rightful victory. None can defeat us. We are glad to plunge feet first into Hell with the knowledge that we shall rise.
It was written on the newest built monument, emblazoned on a ribbon of steel just below the UNSC and San Magnolian Coats of Arms that adorned the top. A monolith of stone that ran the length and width of the platform it was on. It was thick and had titanium plaques laid across its surface. Titanium plaques made from the armor of destroyed tanks and broken weapons that had defended the New Republic. Emblazoned upon them via lasers were ten thousand names. Many were San Magnolian.
Among those, many were Eighty-Six. A memorial built for the Dead of every Squadron, but not just. Members of the Armored Divisions, of the Infantry and Special Forces that had so bravely held the line. There must've been many UNSC names, but they were intermixed with the staff. They were all UNSC to the Admiral. They were all Human. It was why their deaths stung so much for all of them. The Monument, the Mausoleum of the Fallen, resided atop the hill where the Old Memorial had been when it was destroyed by the Legion, a centerpiece.
Amidst the headstones of the newly-built cemetery where comrades and families mourned the dead, another funeral was taking place. Clad in jet-black uniforms, ODSTs, Marines and Officers representing the Navy and ONI stood amidst San Magnolian Officers. None wore a speck of blue today. Black uniforms surrounded the dug grave above which a coffin of black wood hanged, held up by, surprisingly enough, the four Eighty-Six Pilots. Young faces, clad in black UNSC uniforms with campaign ribbons strewn across their chests. They'd asked for this detail, their faces steely, scars and dressed wounds telling of the battle.
The silence that presided over the proceeding was deep and pressing, a respectful silence, a pained silence. Three men stood beside the Headstone, rifles held 'at attention'. The only noise that echoed was a young woman with a strand of scarlet hair and bandages all across her hands and part of her face stifling tears. She stood at attention beside the grave, her friends beside her. President Monet and her cabinet were there, too, as a sign of respect for the family that had sacrificed so much for the Republic.
Lena recalled waking up in the hospital after her little stunt. She had immediately asked for reports. When she was told that San Magnolia had held alongside all other nations, she'd felt her heart well with pride. However, when she saw Admiral Nakano had come into the room herself, clad in black, her cap under her arm, to deliver some news personally, her heart had sunk to depths she didn't think possible. She knew someone close to her had died.
She had not expected it to hurt as much when she was handed the news of her mother's passing. Any child would break down in situations like that, especially after having managed to rekindle a relationship she'd long thought gone with the wind, but it had come like a hammer blow. And break down, Lena did. She'd screamed and screamed until her throat was hoarse and dry. She'd cried a river of tears in the Admiral's arms, of all places.
Like she'd cried when her dad passed.
So, to stand now beside the grave, which was going to be only half full, hurt. The wound in her heart was open and painful. When the four Eighty-Six she'd saved had come up to her to request that they carry the coffin, she was surprised. She'd reluctantly agreed, hoping that they wouldn't do anything strange. The respect they'd shown her mother blew even her away, especially after everything.
So, now, it was just up to her to make sure she wasn't ugly-crying in the middle of what was supposed to be a solemn moment of peace for her mom, who joined her dad in the ground, hopefully more at peace than prior. As the Priest, an old man who followed the Religion of the Saint even outside the wire, spoke the last words in the Holy Book meant for burial, Major Volkov, fresh out of the hospital himself, yelled in Russian, "Present arms!"
Steel and polymer clicked in the hands of the soldiers as they lifted their guns, turning them upward, barrels pointed diagonally and to their left. The soldiers racked the bolts of their weapons and Lena could make out the blanks. Volkov called again, "Aim!" and the soldiers shouldered the weapons, peering down their sights. Horvat, Agnieszka and their Sharpshooter.
The Major called, "Fire!" And the three rifles rang in unison, causing Lena to twitch as memories of the battle played in the back of her mind. She felt Annette's hand rest on her shoulder, while Mathieu and his sister also comforted her in their own way. Seven times did three rifles sing. Twenty-one shots in salute for the Fallen. Volkov sighed and nodded, "At ease..." watching as the men set the rifles back down beside themselves, holding them by the barrels, safeties on.
While the soldiers had fired, the coffin had slowly been lowered to a position where Lena could set a flower crown on it. She set said flowers on top, then put her hand against the wood... And could not contain herself. Collapsing to her knees, the girl began to quietly sob once more. Her friends knelt beside her and hugged her, comforting her gently. Even the President stepped up and, despite her guards' request, gently pat the young woman's head.
After a while, when things had settled, it was only Lena and Annette by the former's family grave. Two headstones combined into one to bear the names of both mother and father. Rows upon rows of crosses and this was the only double grave like this for a couple of rows and couple more columns. Annette scratched the back of her neck and said, "... Your mom... Went out doing the right thing."
"I know..." Lena replied, voice still a little rough, "I know..."
Annette smiled, "You do really get stuff from both of them, don't you? Stubborn, crazy and hotheaded," and that got a short laugh, followed by more coughing from the Colonel. Annette gave her a pat on the back, this one a bit more rough, before continuing, "... I hope my dad's already hanging out with yours, talking mad shit about both of us so that she can come in and kick both of them in the butts for sitting idly by..." and that got another laugh.
Lena pleaded through a rough voice, "Please, don't make me laugh. Throat still hurt..."
Annette nodded, "C'mon. President Monet said she wants to talk to us about our next step. Word of mouth is, the UNSC's scouring the surface of the planet for the Railgun that cracked the Gran Mur wide open and they'll need all of us on deck for it. Who knows, maybe they'll give it to you as a next job..." then she turned to look at the double grave once more.
"Alright," Her best friend replied. The two then turned to leave, noting that Matt and Sam were waiting for them by a Troop 'Hog. Night was quickly falling over San Magnolia as they began to rebuild, the scaffolding built by the UNSC's SeaBees gleaming in the fading light of an orange, clear sky. A fitting end for a day of days, one would say. Many days of fighting followed by peace...
Sam spoke, "You mind making us pancakes tonight, Annette?"
The nerd snorted, "You're helping me. We got fresh eggs from those chickens Spearhead left behind as is," before she hefted her bag and tossed it into the back of the Troop Hog. Matt helped her get in and ride shotgun, while Sam helped Lena. Sam gave Lena a quick patting-down to straighten the creases in her uniform, then lifted up a balled fist. Lena looked at it, then sighed and bumped it. Her best friends were just trying to cheer her up.
... She lost Teppy, too, she thought. That just made her more sad.
... Well, thought is fairly eloquently put. The moment she saw a black cat with white paws and a belly, not to mention a collar, strutting down the road, she barked for the vehicle to stop and immediately went to grab the little rascal, lifting him up into her arms and cuddling him as she climbed back aboard the vehicle, much to the kitten's joy and purring. And to the laughs of everyone else on board the transport. As they rode toward Annette's undamaged home...
Lena prayed to see Spearhead again, at least...