Relevant Notes Will Be At The End Of The Chapter

-000-

Mobile Suit/Mass Effect

Episode 12:

The Descending Sword

-000-

It was over a week since the expedition began, a week since the 314 Alien's initial defense line was broken and their ships scattered into the void. Straight after their initial success, the Coalition Forces were suffering setback after setback.

The first major blow was the Explorator Fleet's gutting at the hands of the enemy. Commander Haliat's force had been reduced severely, and thus was stuck being reconstituted until it could come back to full combat capacity. The original expedition plan was to have Explorator's fast recon squadrons quickly snap intel of the star system before beaming it to the main force. Enemy weakpoints and vulnerable positions would be identified by planners, then a lightning quick offensive to subdue the enemy would be launched. However, given that Explorator was out of action for the foreseeable future, a new strategy had to be drawn up.

If the original plan was comparable to a 'dash' then the new plan is instead a 'crawl'. Recognizing the need for overwhelming numerical superiority, the Expeditionary Forces will deploy in large formations traveling cautiously well at sublight speeds. This threw the timetable into complete disarray and dashed any hope for a quick, decisive pacification campaign. Budgets and logistical plans had to be reorganized, available supplies rationed, and new supplies urgently procured. That last bit in particular caused quite the conundrum. Sudden and urgent orders for material meant it had to be purchased at well above standard market prices... prices that even the mighty Turian Defense Budget might find uncomfortable.

Supplies procurement weren't the only aspect of the expedition that had to be moved up the timetable. The Forge, several mobile drydocks, as well as mining ships, were brought across the mass relay well ahead of schedule. They were originally meant to be sent through once the immediate area around the relay had been sufficiently secured and fortified, but the severity of the damage necessitated them to brought in sooner rather than later.

However, the biggest hurdle wasn't the need to quickly redraw plans or to urgently purchase supplies. It was the realization of just what exactly the lengths the Expedition needed to go through to subdue the star system.

It came a few days ago, when the vanguard force approached the fourth planet away from the star, a gas giant currently designated as 314-4. At the time, it was suspected that the aliens had a resourcing operation around the planet, as evidenced by the blips detected around the gas giant. Gas extraction stations weren't uncommon around Citadel space. They were the only way to efficiently harvest resources like Helium-3 at the scale required to feed an interstellar civilization.

However, these blips weren't merely resourcing stations. Once Coalition forces got closer to 314-4 and could cut through the sensor interference, they didn't find a dozen small platforms like their sensors said they would find.

Instead, they found civilization.

Massive cylindrical stations orbited around the gas giant, each sized at thirty odd-clicks in length and eight clicks in diameter. Twelve of them floated above the planet, and surrounding these gargantuan cylinders were much smaller resourcing stations.

Instead, what the Coalition Forces found was a sight that inspired both horror and awe all at once. The Citadel was larger and far grander -that's for certain- but there was only one Citadel. These aliens may have mass produced these miracles of engineering, and that was terrifying.

Initial contact with the resourcing colonies went about as expected. A small force of alien ships sortied to fight the vanguard force. As it was later discovered, the aliens didn't intend on actually stopping the vanguard. Instead, they fought a delaying action to cover the departure and escape of several massive sublight cargo haulers, likely carrying massive amounts of He3. Once those haulers had flown out of reach -and the vanguard sufficiently bloodied- the defenders fled the scene, withdrawing to the cover of the of the station cluster... leaving the Coalition Forces with the conundrum of how to deal with said colonies.

Magarius was thankful that he wouldn't have to deal with the headache that was developing at 314-4. A dedicated taskforce was being formed to blockade and contain the enemy in the area. Pacification of the space stations could be handled at a later date. After all, it was highly unlikely that these space stations were the center of civilization in this star system. No, that honor was more likely to be taken by 314-2, which according to initial observation appears to be a garden world. 314-2 was probably where the bulk of the enemy's forces were currently holed up, so after a brief pass by the besieged gas giant, Magarius lead his forces on a slow but steady advance towards the colony.

Trouble came when Magarius' vanguard fleet arrived a most troubling location. Sensors indicated that a large asteroid belt stretching all the way around -a wall separating the inner sections of the star system from the outer- stood between the fleet and the garden world. A smaller formation may be able to pass through at their leisure, but the massive concentration of warships such as the one the Commander was leading couldn't sail through so brazenly. The only way to pass was through a large gap in the belt, which in Magarius' opinion looked... artificial. The pass was too neat, the channel damn near straight at certain sections. It was almost as if someone wanted to funnel invading force through that stretch of opening.

His instincts told him to avoid the pass altogether, to find a different passageway towards the colony... but Arterius ordered otherwise.

"Time is a premium we have little of." Arterius said when Magarius asked for permission to scout around for a different pass. "The more time we spend not engaging the enemy is more time they can spend reinforcing and organizing their defense. Proceed through the pass with caution, but do not linger."

Reluctantly, Magarius followed the orders, as any good soldier would, but not before taking precautions of his own. He delayed the crossing a few hours as he rapidly organized his plan, before finally ordering his ships into a tight formation and to sail through at a steady pace. At their current speed, it could take the better part of a day to get his entire force through the narrow, winding, eerily labyrinthian pass.

The march through was tense. Hours passed by without incident, but the Commander could feel that something was wrong. Those suspicions were confirmed when energy bolts suddenly struck the leading warship.

"Enemy attack! The Vanto Aureus has taken a hit!" A report came from the cruiser that was in charge of the leading ships. "Enemy MoWS units engaging from between the asteroids!"

"Launch the Long Talons! Don't even bother trying to maneuver to aim the main guns, the attacks are going to come from everyone except the front." Magarius quickly ordered.

It was only natural that the enemy would try to use their small, nimble, and powerful MoWS units in an asymmetric attack.

The narrow corridor they were passing through meant that the Coalition Forces were already bunched up with overlapping anti-air cover. This made them vulnerable to enemy cannon barrages, but Magarius had figured that not even the enemy's ships would be brash enough to attack from the thick asteroid belt with their warships.

The enemy attacks increased in intensity. More and more enemy MoWS appeared from the asteroid belt and harried Coalition forces who maintained steady pace through the channel. It was only then that Magarius noticed something strange about the attacking machine.

"These look nothing like the machines we've fought before..." He quietly muttered out, unsure of what it could mean.

While the proportions of the machines looked similar enough, the design aesthetic seemed too different from the force encountered during the 314 Incident, the initial fighting at the Relay, and later at 314-4. The commander doubted these were simply 'older machines' and came to the conclusion that they were built by a completely different design team.

But why would these aliens operate two wildly different models running parallel to each other? Having two models running the same mission role strikes Magarius as logistically inefficient...

Unless, of course, these weren't used by the same faction.

Yes, that's a very real possiblity, isn't it? Separatist groups and movements aren't uncommon even in Citadel space. Even the Turian Nation has seen its fair share of them. It could very well be that these MoWS units were being operated by a faction that was contesting control with the more powerful faction that instigated the incidents to begin with.

If that were the case, then had the Coalition inadvertently brought these two sides together? It was certainly in the realm of possibility. Nothing quite brings people together quite like an alien invasion.

The full implications of the matter could be left to a later date, however. After all, Magarius was a flag officer, not a politician. The Old Breed or the Council can deal with that problem. Right now, all he had to worry about was establishing a position on the other side of this asteroid belt so that reinforcements can come through for the attack on 314-2.

As Magarius was musing, a development occurred. The Long Talon fighters which sortied to attack the enemy chased them deep into the asteroids... and into a trap. The fighters were torn to shreds by more of the enemy machines hiding between rocks. No doubt the enemy's trap was meant to draw out Coalition fighters ans MoWS units, after which the ships would be left vulnerable to the nimble attacks that can attack from any direction.

However, those MoWS units the enemy were trying to bait out were needed for the planetary subjugation. Magarius couldn't send them out even if he wanted to.

Calling it a difficult situation would be a terrible understatement.

The Vanguard force soldiered on as the hours ticked by. It was cold comfort to the sailors that no enemy warship decided to join the attack. While damages were starting to add up, Magarius had yet to lose a ship to the enemy MoWS units thanks to the veteran anti-air directors the Commander had wisely scattered throughout the fleet. Many of them were survivors of the 314 Incident and had first hand experience fighting off an enemy of this type.

Enemy attacks continued relentlessly. Their MoWS units assaulted the column at every opportunity, striking wherever it appeared that they could punch through. However, in their eagerness to attack the line of ships, the ambushing aliens missed a crucial detail.

One of the few heavy transports present among the vanguard force were slowly offloading their cargo. One by one it was unceremoniously dumping out large pods behind it, creating a trail of the stuff all along the asteroid corridor. It was only hours later, once the rearmost vanguard ship had cleared the channel that their purpose was revealed.

Confirming that his force had all successfully navigated through the belt, Magarius then pressed a single button on his command podium. Massive explosions cut through the path they had previously followed. The narrow corridor had suddenly been blown wide open by near a hundred mass effect pulse bombs which pushed all the nearby asteroids away.

Now, the path was clear. Any follow up force wouldn't have to suffer the constant ambushes Magarius and his sailors did.

The full force of the expedition can now march on the alien world.

-000-

As it turns out, escaping the battlefield was just the beginning of Squadron 13 and 108's problems.

Each ship had taken some damage in one way, shape, or form. Squadron 13's Marcella Loanie, as well as 108's Fedor Bartlett took serious damage in the battle and were scuttled after it was decided that field repairs wouldn't be able to save either. Surviving crew from both Loanie and Bartlett were sent off to the other ships in the formation.

Being the biggest ship of the bunch, it was natural for the Risima to take the lion's share of the wounded and survivors. It made things rather cramped for us, but the alternative was leaving them marooned in space.

Our initial plan was to rendezvous with the Bullhead Line, but that ended up being a no go. It had take a few days for our rag tag formation to recover our strength, and by the time we were able to make it to the Bullhead Line, it had been utterly demolished by the enemy. We stuck around only for a few hours to search for survivors, but had to quickly withdraw when an enemy patrol squadron came uncomfortably close to catching us.

The next plan, to rendezvous at the colonies orbiting the gas giant Yunnan, also turned out to be a bust. We had been outpaced by the enemy's advance force, who had already began their siege of the Yunnan Sphere. Seeing as we were deep within enemy controlled space, it was decided that we wouldn't attempt to punch through the blockade and dock at the Yunnan Sphere's capital, the colony station Kunming. A withdrawal to an isolated spot in the vast void of the star system promptly followed.

As we recovered and rested there, the captains and officers of the ad hoc formation gathered together in Risima's meeting room. There was no shortage of things for them to discuss, chief among the topics was what the hell we were going to do next.

"We could make a break for Cassafaronga." A Captain from the 108th suggested. "They have all the facilities we need. Medical, repairs, we can get all that sorted out over there."

"That's a fine idea, but with the heavy enemy presence in the system we'll have to travel slowly. It could take us an entire week of evading patrols before we even get close!" The captain of the Darrian responded, shooting down the suggestion.

"Not to mention, taking in survivors from Loanie and Bartlett means were using up more supplies than normal." The Monty's XO and Acting Captain, Neath Ren, added his concern. "None of our ships stocked enough provisions for extended flights like that."

"So what are our options?" Another voice asked. "We can't just sit around here and do nothing!"

A pregnant pause filled the room as everyone involved thought through what we were going to do.

A few ideas were floated around. Harvesting ice asteroids to fill up our water, hunting down the supply caches Golden Beacon had agreed to share with us, jumping out of the Shanxi System to a neighboring one... but none could be agreed upon.

"Shanxi." Captain Viz, another officer from the 108, finally suggested. "We should go to Shanxi."

Her words were received with a mixed reception. Immediately, it was easy to see the reasons for and against going back there.

"Is that wise? Shanxi is where the enemy's main force is going. Hell, they're probably already there for all we know!" I questioned.

"That's true, but Shanxi is also where most of our forces are concentrated." Viz easoned. "The enemy will be spread thin and we'll have a much better chance breaking through their blockade and resupply."

She then moved to the holographic display in the middle of the conference room, manipulating it so that it was focused on the Sanggan Asteroid Belt that separated the Inner Shanxi Sphere from the Outer Sphere.

"That... makes sense." Bullow commented as she gave the idea more thought. "Golden Beacon's forces should've retreated and taken control of the crossings around the Sanggan Belt by now. Given the the size of the enemy force it's likely that they have to go through Chenxing's Pass."

"Meanwhile, we could take a shorter route through one of the smaller crossings." Verns then pointed out. "How long would that take us?"

"A week at most, if we don't have to alter course and can run at full sublight speeds." Captain Ren estimated. "Probably two if we have to evade enemy patrols."

"And once we reach Shanxi, we can rendezvous at Risima Station, offload the wounded and survivors, and then resupply. It sounds as good a plan as any." I capped off. "Question is, are we gonna go through with it?"

It was decided that we should put it to a vote, though I'm not sure why we even bothered to do so. It was voted on unanimously. We would go through with the Shanxi Plan.

-000-

The flight to Shanxi was tense. Just like Captain Ren had estimated, evading enemy patrols had extended our travel to two weeks, which put an even harsher strain on our supplies. It was close to the end of the fourteenth day that we finally reached the outer limits of the Shanxi Sphere, and by that point we were starting to feel the pinch.

All around us was endless fighting. The aliens were here in force and were laying siege to the colony clusters all around Shanxi.

In a bid to resupply as quickly as we could, we charted the shortest possible course to Risima Station. The navigators were careful to have our course avoid the most prominent concentrations of enemy forces, to ensure that we'd reach Risima without further incident... but our luck had ran out.

While the navigators had successfully avoided the large concentrations of enemy warships, they couldn't do much when our course inadvertently crossed with one out of the many planetary invasion fleets headed for Shanxi... bringing us once again into battle.

"This is Lieutenant Kreusgluck! Blue team, launching!" I announced.

The crushing Gs of catapult launch left as quickly as it came. It was always a disorienting, no matter how many times I've went through it by this point.

My repaired Gunstrike was finally back in action. The only thing that kept me from celebrating my return to the battlefield was the gaping hole left behind by Ensign Lyle's death. Flying without a number two simply felt wrong, and even if we could pick up a replacement pilot it still wouldn't feel right.

"Red Team, launching!" Verns announced from the other side of the Risima.

His trio of mobile suits launched into the void a few seconds after I did. Directly behind me was White Team, who we picked up after scuttling the Loanie. Having three teams in a single cruiser made things cramped, but given our circumstances it was necessary.

"Mobile suit teams! Focus fire on the enemy battleships and transports!" Bullow ordered. "If we can take out their landing force, they'll have to abort the attack and withdraw!"

It was as good a battleplan as we could think of. I mean... an invasion force can't carry through with its mission, if the landing troops all get destroyed before they can make landfall, right?

Our forces crashed into each other violently. The fighting turned into a messy tangle of ships and strike craft trying to maneuver around each other's attacks while maintaining course. Very few of the enemy's mobile suits sortied out, though that didn't make it any less challenging for us pilots. The enemy's air defense had learned and adapted over the course of three weeks, as did their pilots.

But the aliens weren't the only ones to learn something.

We figured out that the enemy's game plan is to divide our formations, then to defeat us in detail. This is what they did on a tactical level against our mobile suits, as well as against our ships at a wider level. In our dash to Shanxi, we pilots sharpened our formation fighting skills, careful to make sure we never stay too far away from each other on a team level, and to have multiple teams cover each other on a wider level. Each mobile suit was never more than five hundred meters away from each other, and each team never more than five kilometers.

"Enemy transports are at the center of their formation!" Verns reported over the battle network. "White Team, target the battleships and draw off their fire. Blue Team will provide cover!"

We quickly set off on the attack, with White Team diving into the enemy's head while Red Team attacked from the flank. Ensign Rico and I stayed behind providing long ranged support with our beam rifles, shooting down enemy fighters or trying to snipe their anti-air turrets.

The other teams were relentless in their assault. The two of us at Blue Team did our best to keep them covered but we were barely keeping up. Each shot we fired saw the enemy retaliate with half a dozen. I had to keep in mind not to push my machine too hard this time around. Given how dire the supply situation was back aboard Risima, it would be prudent for me to come back without having shot out my engines this time around.

Our firefight with the enemy invasion force continued for a while. It was brutal fighting, as we bloodied the enemy as hard as we could. Slowly the damaged ones peeled away to lick their wounds, letting us believe we were making progress...

How foolish we were.

Alien reinforcements came from multiple angles. We were so preoccupied trying to take out the enemy invasion fleet that we failed to notice the squadrons of enemy warships attacking us from the flanks and the rear.

"W-we're surrounded!" Someone from White Team yelled out. "What d-do we do?"

Pinned against an enemy to our front, with more coming in to box us in. Shooting our way out of this mess wasn't going to be easy. The alien reinforcements began firing against us at range, slowly restricting our escape vectors while trying to clear a path for the invasion fleet to Shanxi.

It felt like being crushed to death by a snake... or was it like getting torn to pieces by a swarm of piranhas? I guess the distinction mattered little when it comes to describing the experience of annihilation by an enemy that had encircled us.

The damage we were taking was devastating. Already, a destroyer from the 108th was lost with all hands after taking critical damage to its Minovsky Reactor. Another was left with its main guns disabled after an onboard fire took out their fire control system. Desperate wouldn't begin to describe the situation we were in.

"We need a exit plan!" I yelled out. "What do we do!"

The walls around us tightened further. Casualties mounted as the situation devolved further. A few of the captains from the 108th panicked, breaking formation and trying to escape encirclement on their own.

"All mobile suit teams RTB ASAP! 13th Squadron, disengage the invasion force and let them go!" Bullow then suddenly yelled through the battle network.

What was Bullow thinking?! Just let the invasion force through? That's insane! Our job in the Space Forces is to make sure the enemy can't come close to landing on the planet. Why the hell would she order us to let them through?

Before I could voice my protests, the Acting Captain seems to have figured how mad her plan sounded.

"I don't have the time to explain right now, but please just do as I order!" She said again. "It's the only way we're going to get out of this mess alive!"

And so we complied with Bullow's plan. Risima, Monty, and Darian all pulled back from engaging the invasion force as a unit. We tried hailing the ships of the 108th, but their formation had broken apart entirely and was beyond saving. I wanted to go out there, to try and help... but that was suicide. A bitter feeling filled me even as my Gunstrike touched down on the Risima's landing deck and headed in. It was utter chaos in there, with the crew rushing here and there, pushing carts filled with tools, munitions, and everything in between all over the place.

As the technicians locked my unit into the designated scaffold, only then did I notice the piece of equipment that was hanging above my machine.

"Wait a minute... that's the minovsky flight pack..." I thought out loud.

I opened my Gunstrike's cockpit hatch and was about to head out when Derrick stopped by with a pack of ration bars. He passed the bars to me, but also kept me from leaving my machine.

"Sorry Lieutenant, you're going to have to take your break in your machine." The Chief Technician said. "You're going back out there once we've got your flight pack setup. Bullow's orders."

Now I was genuinely confused.

"What the hell's going on, Derrick?"

The larger man simply shook his head and gave me a look that was equal parts astonishment and incredulousness.

"We're following the invasion force into Shanxi." Was all he could say, and I instantly understood why he felt the way he did.

-000-

"The enemy is disengaging, this is our chance! All ships ahead at full combat speed!" Commander Magarius ordered over the battle network.

Larian felt a slight jolt as the transport vessel he was in rapidly accelerated, presumably away from the formation of enemy warships.

So, the 314 Aliens that had showed up out of nowhere to intercept the invasion fleet all of a sudden backed off? Larian didn't buy it. His instincts screamed to him that it wasn't just because they were giving up and that they had some other plan in mid... However, that was Magarius' concern, not his. The Lieutenant's concern will be the ground operation he'd be a part of soon enough.

Admiral Arterius -in his infinite wisdom- decided to dedicated large portions of the SNLF to taking control of the various cylinder stations orbiting the planet. Frankly, Larian thought it was a waste of time, and that it would be better to simply blockade them... but what the Admiral says, goes.

Word from underground extranet forums was that each station was an entire city of itself. Fierce urban fighting was the name of the game, and SNLF forces that couldn't overwhelm the enemy fast enough were stuck persecuting a prolonged siege. To make matters worse, neither side was willing to use their heavy weaponry in fear of compromising the station's structural integrity. Having learned all of that, Larian wasn't sure whether it was a blessing or a curse that he wasn't assigned to fight in one of these stations. Fighting in the planet could very well be just as fierce, if not more so than the fighting in the colony stations. While the SNLF and the Turian Army could bring to bear their full firepower, so could the enemy... and given all the advanced energy weapons the enemy used so far, the Turian lieutenant couldn't make any educated guesses.

"We are approaching the Vaurban Line." The transport ship's captain announced. "All hands to reentry positions."

While mass effect technology did wonders to suppress the worst of the reentry experience within the ship, it was still standard procedure in a Turian ship for every loose object to be secured and for occupants to strap up in a reentry seat. Larian himself was strapped into his Arma Gigas, ready to drop the moment they reached the landing zone.

The first sign that the transport had began planetary reentry was the sound of shuddering from outside the Arma Gigas, though hardly any of the shaking actually made it into the ship - much less the MoWS that Larian was sitting in. Upgrades meant to make shields more resistant to the enemy's energy weapons had the unintended effect of making reentry a much smoother ride, much to everyone's delight. The second sign was when the Lieutenant's machine lost contact with the wider battle network as the superheated plasma forming around the ship cut off all contact beyond the transport.

Larian waited as he always did during a surface drop. He closed his eyes, taloned fingers tapping at the control sticks as the transport rapidly descended into the atmosphere. 314-2 was a much larger world than Menae, so the wait would also be longer than during the wargames. The Lieutenant patiently waited in his seat as the transport continued to bleed away their excess speed, to slow down enough so that complex maneuvers would be possible and so that the helm could correct any deviations made during drop.

It was many minutes later when the transports had finally decelerated enough that they weren't burning up anymore. One by one, ships reconnected into the battle network, signified by a red blip on Larian's cockpit display. Checking in on the formation showed that the transports and its escorts frigates hadn't scattered all too much. Slight adjustments would have to be made to tighten the line once more, but the column of descending space ships largely stuck close together. Things were going as planned. The force would touch down, set fight off any response for that would inevitably show up, set up a Forward Operating Base, then push out into enemy territory while the other forces -those being the Turian Army, Asari Huntresses, as well as Eclipse and Aurek Concern- landed and followed up the advance.

Things would've went well if it things stayed this way... but the problem with the battlefield is that it's always in flux, particularly because the enemy has a mind of their own.

Three blue blips suddenly appeared on scope - two small ones to the formation's right, one larger one to the left... all three were danger close to the formation. Immediately following this, alarm klaxons rang throughout the transport, followed by a call for all hands to battle stations.

"What in sprits' name..." Larian muttered out before his transport was violently rocked by what felt like an explosion. Simultaneously, one of the red blips near his ship suddenly disappeared. "Bridge, what is going on?"

"Lieutenant, enemy warships followed us during the descent!" One of the bridge crew hastily replied over the network.

The answer hit Larian like a lightning bolt.

"Th- that's insane! That can't be right!"

The lieutenant quickly activated the main screen in his cockpit and tapped in on the transport's live feed. Unbelievably enough, it was true. Three of the alien ships had tracked the landing force's descent and were falling just outside the formation, close enough that Larian could see their names written in their alien language. Their turreted cannons were turned towards the SNLF transports, presenting a full broadside, and with each salvo the Lieutenant could see down the barrel of their cannons as it charged and released energy.

The enemy fired away at the Turian forces with reckless abandon. They were so close that it was questionable whether or not they were even aiming. Considering the formation was clustered rather tightly, it's possible that they were simply pointing their cannons at the landing forces' general direction and pulling the trigger. They also probably knew that maneuvering at such high speeds was not possible without scattering the formation across the entire continent... meaning they were being hunted down like sleeping arquails.

"All ships, focus shields to your flanks!" The flag officer ordered. "We can't maneuver, but still have our shields! Use them!"

But just as the order was given, the enemy changed the game once more. Larian could only watch -first in confusion, then in horror- as large hatches opened up on the sides of each alien ship. MoWS units then slid out wearing some sort of backpack equipment that he'd never seen before, then launched into the air.

"They're flying! Their machines can fly!" The Lieutenant said, damn near laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Somehow, those backpacks let the alien machines fly within atmosphere. It didn't make sense how those tiny, stubby wings could generate enough lift for machines of that size... but the 314 Aliens had a habit of breaking the laws of physics with their esoteric technologies.

It shouldn't have been surprising at all, and yet somehow it was.

-000-

In the back of my head I felt that I probably should've felt a little bit guilty about this. The enemy was vulnerable, unable to evade, reliant on anti-air weapons who's accuracy had been reduced. Even if someone was manually operating the weapon, the turbulence and shaking of rapid descent seems to be throwing their aim off just enough for our mobile suits to be able to evade. What we couldn't evade we blocked with our shields... basically put, we could fire at the enemy with total impunity - like shooting fish in a barrel.

But at the same time... they came to us, came to our home, thought they could put us under heel for whatever alien reasons they had. They beat us back, put our worlds under siege, put the lives of millions at risk. Fighting back, making these alien bastards bleed for what they did to us... it felt good.

I narrowly dodged another flak shell before firing straight through what I assumed was a cruiser's bridge. This was the fourth ship I've destroyed in the past six minutes, and I wasn't looking to stop anytime soon. The other pilots also picked up the pace, with Verns having scored a fifth and Ensign Rico just taking a third. Rosen unfortunately couldn't take part in the festivities - her Hroeger couldn't take the flight pack without extensive modifications, so instead she opted to take a position on one of Risima's launch decks and fired at the enemy from there. We were dealing a massive amount of damage to the enemy, with only a few shots needed to send the enemy ships careening into an uncontrolled fall.

It was honestly surprising how well this plan was turning out. I thought Bullow had gone mad at first, but the results spoke for itself. The limited time where we could fire at the enemy without serious retaliation flew by and before we knew it the enemy had bled enough airspeed to start maneuvering without scattering themselves across the hemisphere... meaning to say it was time for us to make our exit.

"We're almost at the altitude limit, mobile suit teams RTB ASAP!" Kessler reminded us. "We can't start the final phase of the plan until you're all back."

"Don't have to tell us twice!" I answered. "Blue Team is RTB!"

Rico and I split ways from whatever's left of the landing force and headed back to Risima. The last step in our rushed impromptu plan was to divert our course away from the Xinzhou Continent and into the Aster Sea in its west... after that? Well... I suppose it was a bridge we'll cross once we get there.

I let Blue 3 land on the ship first, and while waiting I snuck a glance at the trail of smoke and fire that the enemy force left behind them. More ships than I would like managed to get away, though I don't think a single one of them escaped the engagement unharmed. With some luck, they'd crash-land somewhere in the countryside and the ground forces will finish them off...

Knowing how our luck has turned out so far though, I had a feeling that it wasn't going to be that simple.

-000-

Larian coughed his lungs out as he finally woke up. His ears rang and his body felt like it'd been run over by a freighter. A couple of his plates also felt cracked, though thankfully there was no sign of hemorrhaging. The pilot took a bit to get his bearings, but eventually he remembered what had happened.

His transport had been critically damaged during the descent and made a crash landing hundreds of clicks away from the actual LZ. Remembering the predicament he was in washed away any drowsiness as urgency now filled the Lieutenant. Quickly, he did a systems check on his Arma Gigas.

"Arms okay... legs okay... weapons... okay... looks like we're red across the board." He read the reports out loud.

The Turian pilot grasped the control sticks after activating the main camera. Looks like the transport had split in two after crashing since he could see an endless sea of grass ahead of him, marred only by the front half of the transport a few clicks away. Larian then unhitched his machine and took a few tentative steps forward with his MoWS unit. The first few steps landed on the battered metal floor of the ruined ship, but after that was the soil. The Arma Gigas stepped into the dirt and grass, then Larian slowly swiveled its head around to survey the land.

It was endless seas of grassland, interrupted by hills and the occasional rock formation. It was wide, open terrain - perfect for the highly mobile Arma Gigas. Plumes of smoke rose from over the horizon, no doubt from other crash-sites. Larian had half a mind to go and investigate those, but remembered that he should check on whatever survived from his current transport.

The Lieutenant spent a few minutes searching the wrecked transport. He thanked the spirits when it appeared that the majority of the SNLF forces aboard had managed to survive, though they were still in rough shape. Half of their MoWS units took some form of damage during the fall, with a few having to be written off entirely and cannibalized for spare parts.

The SNLF survivors decided that they couldn't stick around for long, that the enemy were going to swarm the crash site soon enough... and they were right. As Larian was helping dislodge a piece of debris so that the hovertanks could be freed from the shipwreck, he spotted a lone vehicle cresting a nearby hill. It wasn't very large, probably only a few mites long. It was wheeled -likely electrically driven, given the lack of any combustion noises- and appeared to be lightly armored with a small turret on top of it.

Basically put, it was a scout vehicle.

Time felt like it stopped as Larian's main camera made 'eye contact' with the wheeled scout's turret. Both sides eyed each other carefully, seemingly studying their opposite. Even the SNLF engineers and tank crews that the Lieutenant had been assisting were frozen in place, staring at the armored scout. The uncomfortable moment stretched on for what felt like hours, until finally the scout decided to escalate.

One of the tubes on the side of the vehicle's turret popped open its forward cap and a split second later launched a wire guided missile. With what many would call preternatural reflexes, Larian violently jinked his machine to the side, just as the missile left its tube. The missile missed by mere inches, swerving off to the side and ramming into the wrecked ship's hull with a spectacular explosion. If the Lieutenant had been but a second slower he was sure that the missile would've hit, and that he would be a goner.

Now, Larian retaliated. Given that he had left his Autocannon down on its rack, the Lieutenant only had the head mounted coaxial machineguns to fight back with. He let loose a spray of MG fire, but the light armor of the vehicle proved able to take the punishment. Lead ricocheted off of the scout vehicle as its driver hurriedly set his vehicle to reverse, before stepping on the gas and retreating. All the while, the scout's own machinegun fired away at Larian. This attack was equally ineffective as the Arma Gigas' kinetic barrier simply ate all the shots without wavering.

The armored scout vanished behind the hill. Given its fairly quiet electrical drive it was hard to tell if it was simply hiding behind the hill or if it had already turned and ran.

Larian wanted to make chase... he knew he had to make chase... but any plan to do that was cut short as not even moments later, a hail of artillery rained across the crash site. Shrapnel and fire filled the air as shells impacted left and right. It wasn't particularly accurate fire, nor was it very devastating -these appeared to be some kind of light artillery, something infantry portable- but the disruption it caused was still enough to throw the SNLF into chaos.

The barrage lasted a little over half a minute, with the last few shells landing far from anything important. The Turians had only barely recovered when a voice called out on an open frequency, speaking an alien language.

"Welcome to hell, you alien assholes!"

None among the SNLF understood what was said... but Larian felt that the message transcended languages.

The Turians weren't welcome, and the colonists weren't going to make life easy for them.

-000-

A/N: And that finally wraps up the 2nd arc! I should've finished this last week, but between the national elections getting in the way (I got drafted to count votes in my district) and getting addicted to Helldiving, you could say I haven't been very productive as of late.

The next 12 or so chapters (divided into 2 arcs) will deal with the fighting in and around Shanxi. I'm following the traditional Gundam story flow, so you can expect for Risima's crew and Larian to be stuck planetside for a while. Larian will be the Turian POV character for things going on in Shanxi, while Magarius will be the Turian POV character in space. The current plan is to reach the finale by chapter 24.

As stated in the previous chapter, I'll upload another CODEX chapter before starting the next arc. These will primarily focus on the Asari, and Salarians, before going through the various ships and vehicles used by the SSC and Turian Military. If I'm feeling particularly motivated I might include a few entries about the Quarians and Krogan, though since they're not really gonna play any role in this story I haven't fleshed them out all too much.