AN: I'm back again with more tales of battle and war. But first, let's take a moment to look at your comments. Artyom-Dreizehn, I just gave them minor upgrades for now…They have some ships at three KM long, but they are rare…After this whole incident is resolved though they're going to start reforming their fleets to be more realistic (Corvettes, true Destroyers, true Carriers, and Battleships for instance). Cosmicsafe74, no, why would it when it has miracle sci-fi metal armor that makes everything we understand today look like shit? Spartan-626, agreed, it doesn't…and they will. But I'm a little tired of Turians blanket labeled as evil or foolish, I mean for crying out loud you don't stay the DOMINANT military force in a universe by being dumb. Also, Unkle WAAAGH did some more work on this one (the Caelrain section before I edited it up was all his work). Anyways let's begin.

Speech

Thoughts

Radio/machine speech/scene change

314: On Raven Wings

Raven Guard Flagship: Corvus: In transit to Shanxi Primus

Legion Commander Shrike, veteran of the OLD Raven Guard, glanced out the bridge's main viewing port, and frowned behind his custom made helmet, which emulated the old Mk VI Corvus pattern. The state of the Raven Guard was not what made him frown, as for the first time since the Great Crusade ten thousand legionaries served in the black power armor of the legion.

Nor was it the fact that Eldar or female legionaries made up a portion of that number. The Emperor's decree absolute at the dawn of the Empire stated that the Eldar and UNSC humans were to be welcomed as long lost brothers, or cousins at the least; on top of this the scientists of all three of the founding factions of the Empire had managed to first create a way to merge the Geneseed of the Astartes with the implants of the Spartan initiative to create an even better warrior, and then later created the Legionary Geneseed template and an additional modification to already existing Space Marines and Spartans to put them on par with the new warrior elite.

No, what caused the frown on the senior commander of the XIX Legion's face was the fact that there was yet ANOTHER xeno menace threatening the Empire. Don't get him wrong, Shrike was a Space Marine through and through and thus welcomed a chance to protect the Empire; but with the western edge of the galaxy under seemingly unending assault by various extragalactic assault, dealing with what the reports from the Frigate Eisenwald brought (and the initial diplomatic findings from interacting with these "Quarians") painted as less of a threat and more of an irritance seemed like a slight waste. But, as the Emperor willed it, the Raven Guard would do their duty and crush these invaders like the pests they were.

The soft sounds of the nearly silent Mk X Imperator power armor coming towards him caused Kayvaan to turn to regard the advancing figure. They were, much like all other Legionaries, roughly eight feet tall and clad in the midnight black power armor of the XIXth Legion; their helmet was clasped to their waist, revealing a female face with an olive complexion and short cut black hair. The woman snapped a quick salute in the new, or would it be old, unification style (one which mirrored the old salute of the Legions before they adopted the sign of the Aquila).

A nod brought sent the new comer to parade rest posture, Shrike mentally approved of this, he had after all heard that the Spartans were the UNSC's equivalent of the Astartes but he had never served alongside one in actual combat…he guessed he would see in the upcoming battle: "Yes?"

The voice that the woman spoke in was clipped and professional: "All members of the Legion assigned to the ground assault are prepared, Legion Commander, we only await the order to drop."

The Legion Commander nodded in acknowledgement and dismissal, causing the woman to once again salute and turn on her heel to leave; leaving the veteran to his thoughts, and the analysis of the report the drone that had just arrived in the vicinity of Shanxi Prime reported.

In orbit around Shanxi Prime: Bridge of the Eyes of Palaven:

Admiral Gaius let out a sigh as he read the report of this conflict….No, conflict was an inadequate term for this. It was a massacre. Casualties from the earlier space battle accounted for a third of the personnel assigned to the fleet, five hundred thousand souls, dead; another tenth, one hundred fifty thousand, critically injured…and with the damage done to a fifth of the remaining ships in the fleet requiring them to be withdrawn back to a shipyard for extensive repairs. In all the seventh fleet was down to essentially half strength at this point.

Those numbers were before the casualties among the soldiers on the ground were taken into account. Of the five hundred thousand troopers deployed to the surface, over one hundred and twenty five thousand had already fallen. Most of those casualties, eighty five thousand, were from trying to take that spirits damned defensive line; twenty thousand airborne legion members had been lost in abortive recon attempts over the plateau or landing attempts …another ten thousand had been killed by automated defensive positions dotted throughout the countryside. But the main concern was that damned tank rampaging behind their lines, it had already destroyed several armored legions, and was now advancing on General Atreus' command post. Nothing could stop that tank, he had even personally ordered a frigate to engage it, but it not only failed to kill the tank, but was not the first space ship lost to tank fire in the entirety of Citadel history.

As he took a sip of tea one of his aides brought him, he mused bitterly over this encounter: "This will go down in history as the worst defeat a Battle Fleet has ever suffered…This one 'battle' will destroy the reputation of the Seventh, and by extension the navy as a whole. I'll be lucky to escape with my life for this, let alone jail time."

A junior officer called from one of the sensor stations: "Sir, I'm picking up strange energy emissions around one hundred kilometers from the fleet's position…The energy just died down, but we're not detecting anything in the area where the burst came from."

A chill ran down the flag officer's spine. Their adversaries had already displayed technology far beyond their capabilities, actual combat effective energy weapons for example, they might even have ACTUAL stealth technology. As such his choice was clear: "All hands battle stations! This may be a false alarm but I'd rather we be ready in case this isn't."

After receiving the admiral's orders, the remnants of the seventh fleet started to form a rough battle line in orbit of the planet…But it was already too late. Before they had time to do more than screen their dreadnoughts and carriers, a massive energy reading blinded the scanners of the fleet, and an intense burst of light blinded anyone who looked out the viewports on the ship. It was extremely brief, but when the scopes finally cleared, and the Turians could see again, a sense of dread hung over them…As now hanging in the blackness of the void was a massive spacecraft: twenty five kilometers long, fifteen kilometers wide at the rear of the warship, and ten kilometers at its tallest point…a true monster of a vessel only visible to the eye due to being silhouetted against the sun.

Then without warning, energy weaponry lashed out from the front quarter of the vessel as it advanced at a speed far faster than a vessel of its size should have any right to move. Within seconds the warship had cleared out most of the rest of the battered remains of the seventh fleet. Those that were not destroyed out right by the energy weapons, or the massive triangular warship smashing into them, were soon fighting desperately against boarders launched from the black behemoth. Only a few frigates escaped this fate by diving into the planet's atmosphere, at the same time the opposing warship deployed hundreds of drop pods from its underbelly to the surface.

The resistance put up by the Turian marines and crew members was valiant, everywhere that could be fortified was turned into a strongpoint; and every weapon, including those of armored vehicles and light walkers aboard the ships, was turned on their attackers…Against any other foe, it may have been enough. But this was not any other foe.

These were Legionaries, the Adeptus Astartes…Perfected at long last by their own creator, the Emperor. These super soldiers were clad in the best war plate the Empire could produce, armor that made them completely immune to any weaponry the defenders could use against them. Not even decompressing sections of the ship slowed them for longer than a second. But they had no issue tearing through the defenders, their Gladius pattern Bolters, monstrous weapons able to switch on the fly between mass reactive high explosive forty millimeter shells and various other options on the fly, had no trouble killing the defenders in droves. Every second hundreds of the decimated seventh's crew died.

The radios were clogged by the screams of the dying and wounded, making coordination all but impossible against these monsters, these demons. Gaius had no choice, if any of his men were to live to see the end of the day…He opened the one emergency channel everyone would be able to hear: "I am Admiral Gaius, commanding officer of the Turian Seventh Battle Fleet…I hereby surrender the remaining forces in orbit, on the grounds of expecting fair and decent treatment according to common decency."

For a minute he feared that the surrender would be ignored and the slaughter would continue; but then a voice replied back, calm and calculating: "This is Legion Commander Shrike, I accept the surrender of your 'fleet.' You and your subordinates will stand down, xeno, and await instructions. Any movement of your force beyond normal drift will be considered hostile, and we will act accordingly."

On the surface of Shanxi Prime: Castle Saint Angelo, five minutes before the Raven Guard arrived

The Turian invasion had been a failure from when they first landed in the midafternoon. The outlying settlements had already been evacuated long before they landed, and turned into booby traps with automated turrets ripping into anyone who entered the area. Then came the failure of the airborne legions to even so much as get accurate reconnaissance, let alone land near the capital, due to heavy aa defenses decimating any attempt.

Then came the four hour long stalemate at the defensive line set up along the main route to the city. Four hours to break a simple trench line, all due to the superior technology and small numbers who could fight at a time. After throwing away nearly fifty thousand men to break the trenches, they finally broke through.

Instead of dying down though the fighting had grown even fiercer after the trenches had been lost. Despite losing a tenth of their effective strength the defenders tenaciously and stubbornly held on, every inch the Turians advanced was payed for in blood. Even with their numbers, heavy armor support, and artillery firing non-stop, the invaders were finding it near impossible to dislodge them from the final defense before the city.

And now it was night, while the new assault was being prepared, the survivors of several shattered units stared up at the sky to look upon the comforting sight of the Turian fleet in orbit; a fleet that would soon be called in to smash this last bastion of resistance with orbital bombardment. Despite the grudging respect the troopers felt for the defenders, they were looking forward to the navy slagging the site from orbit, clearing the way for victory.

But then an odd thing happened, a blindingly bright flash of light blazed into existence for a brief moment in orbit. Then more flashes of light lashed out from where the flash had occurred. There was puzzlement for a while, as these were not as bright as the first by a long shot…and they were connecting to unseen objects.

It wasn't until one of the spotters used his binoculars and looked at what was happening that what was happening occurred to the ground pounders. The fleet they had just been counting on was being pummeled into dust. A fact reinforced when they caught sight of several frigates fleeing to sub orbital position…followed closely by hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of small objects falling from orbit.

The frigate's guardian lasers opened up, not doing more than slightly heating the objects hurtling towards the ground. One of the pods slammed THROUGH one of the few Turian warships, causing it to shatter in half as it carried on unscathed to the surface.

Raven Guard Dreadnought Drop Pod: Dreadnought Squad Herman

Brother Sergeant Herman grunted as he heard the impact of yet ANOTHER inferior Xenos energy weapon striking his drop pod. With practiced motions he brought his Conqueror pattern Dreadnought online, the twenty foot tall war machine rising to stand as he did so. Without looking at his two squad members, he keyed in the code to drop his side's door.

As it opened his targeting sensors locked onto the frigate that had been pounding his drop pod, and the soft stomping of the Conqueror pattern brought it forward so the sergeant could fire his war machine's weaponry. A flash of crimson from the guardian laser passing overhead revealed the pitch back shape of the dreadnought, to a casual observer it would look like a taller version of a Contemptor Dreadnought armed with a double assault cannon for a right arm and a power fist for a left…but looks can be deceiving.

As soon as Herman's walker reached a position he could fire from, his machine's main weaponry started spinning up. After no more than a heartbeat, in which he analyzed the ship and picked his target, a literal river of blue bolts exited the gun at the speed of light.

The first few bolts punched through one of the engines of the doomed Turian vessel, causing an explosion, before being dragged down the width of its wings, and then the main body. By the time the Raven Guard Dreadnought stopped firing, three seconds later, the Turian vessel was little more than scrap metal plummeting to the planet below. As he sealed the pod's door and "walked" back to his position, a ghost of a smile crossed his lips for destroying the harassing ship.

But there was no time for congratulations, as they would finally be making planet fall in five seconds.

Old Imperial Trenches:

Colonel Hosso Caelrain didn't process the hundreds of drop pods falling from the sky at first. He was far too busy leading the battered remnants of the previous assaults on the last holdout positions that were still harassing the Turian forces.

The mop up operation had begun two hours ago, and despite the heavy resistance, the Turian forces were beginning to finally clear the area. Already, they had cleared several smaller bunkers peppered around the trench. Turian progress was initially slow, until they discovered that grenades with shield disruptor mods worked nicely to disable enemy weapons and armor…leaving the defenders virtually unable to fight back...Something that had been passed onto command.

Now though they had a bigger problem. The largest bunker left in the trench system was still holding out, and it was situated on a large hill. From that bunker, crews of machine gunners had already destroyed several convoys heading to and from the last mainline of resistance. However, Caelrain had a plan for taking them down.

Earlier in the sub operation, a detachment of the nineteenth Special Forces legion had eliminated the aliens guarding the mortars. The aliens had relied on stealth to conceal the mortars and their crews, but it was no match for member of Black Watch, who's specially modified weapons punch right through the armor of the guards (albeit those rifles were rendered useless as their barrels had melted due to extreme heat). Now the mortars were theirs. Turian doctrine typically did not include light platoon based artillery. They were far too inconvenient, and there was also the risk of friendly fire, sabotage, or simply the damn thing not working at the wrong time (as had rather infamously happened in the formative stages of the legions, which would lead to whole platoons being destroyed). But they would be useful in the later part of this plan.

He cut his musing short as he ducked down, angry bolts of red lasers hissing past his head. He was guarded by an impromptu retinue of troopers, all specialists or men of exceptional valor from other shattered legions. They served as his bodyguards, while he relayed orders to the hundreds of squads and sub operations occurring simultaneously.

Looking at his omnitool's display, he barked an order to his communication specialist: "Squad Rebus, prepare explosive charges on my mark." There was a pause, and as one of the turrets fired out a bright blue globule of plasma, vaporizing another squad of infantry who had been taking cover behind a derelict IFV.

Suppressing his anger he gave the order: "NOW!" Twenty meters away, Squad Rebus began their charge. Covered by at least half a dozen squads suppressing fire, the thirteen Turians charged toward the plasma turret that had just fired. Red beams of energy, coming from the aliens weapons; shot through the air, killing at least five of them instantly. The remaining eight got into range of the crew, and began to fight them in close quarters combat.

Though the aliens had impressive firepower, they did not have that much skill in melee, and they were overpowered in less than a minute. While many of the other turrets they had destroyed were automated, the large turrets that fired plasma, such as this one, required a crew of four: one to fire, two to reload the cells, and one to spot. Though the Turians did not know how to reload the weaponry, they did know how to fire it. It was nice of the enemy to load a shot, just for them.

Squad Rebus turned the hijacked plasma turret to the only other remaining one plasma turret, which was only now turning to fire on the captured turret…unfortunately for them, they were too slow.
With a mighty blast, a ball of heated gases and energy with the intensity of a dying star, hit the heavy turret, blowing it up in a fiery blue explosion, killing more of the defenders stationed near it. The blast radius was huge, nearly twenty meters in radius.

Caelrain let out a rallying cry, as he got out of cover, leading the charge: "FORWARD! FOR THE HIERARCHY!"

His war cry was amplified by his retinue, followed by hundreds, if not thousands of Turian troopers. At this point of time, the Black Watch that had seized the enemy's mortars began to fire. One of the weapons exploded due to mishandling, killing the troopers manning it and badly injuring a dozen more nearby, but the other five worked as intended. Five shots of plasma burned into the early morning sky, falling down to the ground at mach one. One of them missed, merely hitting and incinerating barren ground. Two of them hit the trenches that had been taken hours ago, doing nothing more than to slow the advance of Turian vehicles, and blowing the tires on two IFVs out.

But like falling stars, the last two plasma blobs fell from the sky, shrieking like banshees. The result of their damage was a sight to behold. The front most section of the bunker had been annihilated by the blast. The heavy weapon specialists that had been manned at the front had turned into cinders, their armor doing little to stop the last generation plasma mortar shells. The aliens that were deeper in the bunker screamed. Metal, rock, and their own armor would melt and fuse into their own skins, bringing them into a world of agony and suffering that was simply unimaginable. Even then, the defenders had another trick up their sleeve.

Half a dozen grenades were suddenly launched out from a hidden location near the bunker. Caelrain watched in curiosity, watching the grenades trail a bluish purple cloud behind them. However, as they landed, the cloud began to manifest into a deadly fog, blown from side to side by the ever changing winds.

It took him a second to understand what they were, as chemical warfare was not common in Citadel warfare, but as a not cautious enough squad fell victim to it, it became all too clear. Slamming on his helmet he roared aloud: "CHEMICALS! HELMETS ON!"

His order was relayed to the rest of the assault force…but it reached some too late, others were too slow, or were just too distracted. As the cloud of chemicals entered their lungs, they began to suffocate on their own blood, as their lungs contracted and swelled uncontrollably. Their eyes wept blue tears of gore, grasping their bony exoskeleton that covered their body. Then a sudden change in wind began to blow this gas cloud across the Turian lines, killing dozens more in mere moments. The victims began to puke, before their own bodies exploded rather violently, some unknown contagion within the grenades making their bodies rip apart. Naturally, the psychological effect was extreme. The ferocious charge was immediately brought to a crawl, as the attacking forces had to slow down, fixing on helmets that thankfully, filtered out the poisonous gas.

From out of the cloud emerged four figures in bone white armor wielding swords and spears, moving at jaw dropping speeds as a loud piercing wail was emitted by their helmets. Several troopers near them fell to their knees clutching their heads in agony, before dropping dead, as these warriors got amongst the Turians… slicing and dicing with weapons that utterly ignored armor, each blow dealt was a mortal wound.

Caelrain bit out a curse as he took a quick shot at one of the attackers, only for them to dodge around it: "Damnit! All squads in my area, concentrate fire, keep firing until the barrels melt!"

At that point an unfamiliar noise reached his audio sensors, coming from above. Risking a glance up, an involuntary gasp of shock passed through his mandibles. The sky was filled with thousands of unknown objects. Reacting quickly, and as best he could at the time, he barked out another order: "Ground forces near my position, prepare for artillery bombardments! Hunker down, now!

As he issued this order, he curled his body, trying to hide his face and neck from the incoming shrapnel, knowing that it would likely be for nothing with how high tech their adversaries were. Much to his surprise though, there WAS no explosion…No shrapnel raining down, no plasma energy washing over him and his men…nothing but dust and debris from the earth.

Though as he raised his head to look, he WISHED it had been artillery. Forty meters away was a black metal object, the sides of which blew open, and ten eight feet tall beings emerged. They were clad in pitch black armor with white highlights, which looked far more advanced than anything the Turian Hierarchy had ever encountered; massive weapons that screamed death to any they were pointed at were wielded by these massive figures.

Turians were known for their resolve in battle. It was a well-known saying amongst another ferocious race, the Krogan, that one would not see a Turian's back unless they were dead. The Turian Legions had fought many threats before; Batarian Pirates and Slavers, Krogan Mercenaries, and dozens of smaller threats that the galaxy would never know of. The Legions were known for their bravery. They were stalwart against all foes. These, were different, Caelrain could feel it.

Before the Turians could fully respond to these figures, the armored giants opened fire. Dozens of troopers fell in the opening salvo, and many more fell quickly. Every pull of the trigger resulted in a death, whether from explosive shell laser beam or plasma bolts, as the armored figures fanned out.

Despite this surprise assault, the Colonel remained undaunted and calmly continued issuing orders, as was expected of an officer in his position: "Take cover, and return fire. Don't present more of a target than you have to. Co-ordinate your fire on one target at a time"

They were just tougher versions of the defenders. If anything, they could be taken out just as easily with their improvised tactics. If they focused fire, and utilized regular anti-shield ammo, they could easily take them down. He would be proven wrong. Very, very wrong.

Hundreds of Turian weapons fired simultaneously at one target. The new comers did not even bother to take cover. Caelrain thought they were just suicidal, afterall logic dictated taking cover when out-numbered THIS badly (Caelrain commands a detachment five thousand strong). He was proven wrong, as a blue shimmer of energy covered the creatures; the bullets from the Turians weapons simply pinged off without leaving a scratch, and it was demoralizing to see that these new adversaries had defensive shields more than a match for the troopers they had been fighting.

Still the Turians fell in droves under the guns of their attackers, and the blades of the white armored figures. Snarling inarticulately in anger Caelrain issued an order to his troopers: "By the spirits, pull back! Pull back, engage tactical withdrawal!"

To the credit of the troopers under his command, they fell back in good order with squads providing cover fire to each other as per regular doctrine. But it was in vain, rounds simply bounced off armor and shields or were effectively dodged, while more and more valiant Turians fell. It got to the point where bodies began to simply roll down the hills, rivers of bluish purple blood pooling down from their bodies onto the dry soil.

Suddenly, there was a massive impact, as one of the nigh un-killable monsters landed amongst them, shouting a battle cry: "Victorus aut Mortis!"

It wore what could be a jetpack, and held a mighty sword that was covered in teeth. The blade roared like a ferocious beast, as its wielder swung the beast to and fro, bisecting trooper after trooper...turning his war plate a pattern of iridescent purple and black. Caelrain, had grew tired of watching his men die, and finally he took action.

He had been eyeing one of the defenders with a spear, he quickly took out his sniper rifle, and after removing the safety limiter on his rifle, and lined up the shot. His target was barreling towards him at lightning speed. Taking a single breath, he squeezed the trigger... A muzzle flash, the sound of his rifle's heat limit being overwhelmed and the gun's barrel melting, followed shortly after by the sound of a body hitting the ground; the spear that was held in its hands skittered out of the way, sliding right into his reach. Then, he heard an explosion from where the monster was ripping them apart in close combat.
The bright blue shimmer that rippled across its armor stopped suddenly, its movement locking up slightly.

Caelrain realized what it meant, as the final trooper in his retinue died from blood loss. A satchel of specially modified grenades, at least forty of them, must have hit the sword wielding giant. This was his opportunity.
He took the spear in his hand, and climbed up a small indent on the large hill, getting some ground, before he leaped.

"FOR THE HIERARCHY!" He roared aloud, holding the spear in his two hands, diving towards the creature. It looked up at him, the helmet's cold visage chilled the colonel to his core. Time seemed to slow, as if the two figures were frozen in time…The Legionary of the Raven Guard, looking up at a Turian soldier falling from the heavens.

Then time sped up again…The spear impacted right into a joint of its armor, from where the pieces of armor connecting it from the neck and head were weak. It pierced through the seemingly impenetrable armor, cutting right through all the way to the other side. The blade shattered upon contact with the other side of the armor, making the shaft of the weapon snap apart.

In its death throes, the being swung with its left gauntlet…the blow found its mark on the Turian's torso. The armor cracked and shattered under the blow, and then his bones themselves shattered into dust as he was sent sprawling down the hill, rolling away. The colonel rolled right into the wreck of a burning tank, coughing out blood.

With his last gasp of air, two words left the soldier's lips: "Worth it."

Turian main assault on the Castle St Angelo: Saren Arterius

Saren Arterius was fairly new to the Nineteenth Special Forces Legion, he had been assigned to the Black Watch detachment of said legion right out of basic. While he had fought in several pirate cleansings, this was brand new ground for him, having to fight a species outside of the Council's experiences.

A wry but of humor broke through his concentration as he ducked behind an outcropping near the wall they were about to detonate to enter, "Without even knowing it this race has confirmed all the council's fears about what could lie beyond a dormant relay."

The detachment's commander's voice broke over the platoon radio: "Detonating charges in thirty seconds, prepare for close quarters combat…What the!? What are those things?"

The last part of what the lieutenant was saying caught the unit off guard, Saren turned his head to look at the sky, as did the rest of his unit, and was surprised to see hundreds of shapes falling from orbit. One plowing through a frigate, destroying the ship while emerging intact, and another fired on a second frigate destroying it in seconds.

Ten of the objects dropped in the area around the 19th and their support elements, disgorging their lethal cargo. Much like what had happened to Caelrain's detatchment, slaughter ensued. The men of the legions in the area fell like wheat before a scythe, but with horrific wounds instead of clean cuts. Red beams of energy cutting through armor cleanly, but melted unprotected Turian carapace as it passed through, leaving those who were merely wounded in horrific pain before they were put out of their misery.

Blue globules of energy, reminiscent of the heavy turrets that had caused so much death amongst the Turians already, impacted on their targets and exploded with such force that usually the trooper on the receiving end was vaporized…though there were a few "lucky" ones who managed to survive, usually missing limbs or in extreme cases half their body.

Explosive rounds also tore into the Turians, despite being projectiles from what the engineering corps had determined the Kinetic barriers on the soldiers was completely worthless. Saren watched helplessly as his sergeant, a woman he had a slight crush on, was blown apart by a single bolt round to the torso, raining bloody giblets down on her squad.

But that wasn't the worst of it, there were others… things that made Saren remember his ancestor's accounts of his service during the Krogan Rebellions. They wielded melee weaponry, snarling weapons with microscopic rotary blades along their cutting edge's length or weapons that crackled with energy beyond the comprehension of Citadel science. Every blow from these weapons maimed a soldier who was lucky enough to dodge at the last possible second, or killed in a gory spectacle that would haunt his dreams.

Despite their power there were only one hundred of these new comers…And yet nothing they did could bring them down. Even using the tactics the mop op operation had discovered did virtually nothing, yes they did slow and temporarily disable some of the armored giants, but there were too many of them for the Turians to be able to capitalize on this to even take down one.

As Saren emptied another "clip" worth of bullets into one of the unstoppable juggernaughts, one of the black armored bringers of death turned his gun on him. A squeeze of the trigger and the Turian's arm was on the ground, separated from his body by a stream of crimson energy. Now weaponless he watched helplessly as one of the enemy melee fighters advanced on him wielding an axe that crackled with power. There would be no escaping this.

But then a voice broke over the open comm channel: "This is General Arterius, commander of the ground forces assigned to the Turian Seventh Fleet. I hereby offer my army's unconditional surrender, and pray for treatment worthy of the valor of my men."

The armored giant ceased his advance upon that transmission from Saren's elder brother. The last thing the Turian special forces trooper saw before blacking out from pain and shock at this defeat was one of the platoon medics rushing over to him.

Turian Command: five minutes earlier

General Arterius had been outside his command post when the Raven Guard arrived in system. He stared up at the stars in shock as he watched the orbital assault the defender's reinforcements carried out. His fighting force was already depleted, and now further enemies had arrived. Rushing back inside he began organizing his defenses as best he could.

He called over to his communications officer, one Andronicus Kryik: "get in contact with our units not currently engaged, have them gather together and form defensive positions. If we are to have any chance of surviving we need to concentrate our fire power so that the enemy can't even get close to our troops without suffering heavy casualties!"

Kyrik nodded, and carried out his general's instructions; barely even acknowledging his communication officer's nod, the General turned to Helios: "Get in contact with the surviving frigates, tell them to provide as much fire support as they can, main battery guns authorized."

Helios paused: "You are aware Sir, that there is little hope of this turning the tide if they have orbital superiority, correct?"

Normally such a breach in discipline would not be tolerated, but Helios had served with the General from the day that they had both joined up all the way until now; so some leeway was expected: "I know old friend, but it's either that, or I automatically issue the surrender of the remaining soldiers on this accursed rock….and we both know that the Hierarchy is more damning of men who do not give their all then they are of anyone short of traitors…I will not let the men under my command suffer for this."

Nodding, Helios carried out his old friend's instructions. Glancing back at the tactical display he had set up earlier, Arterius cursed under his breath. The alien commander of the relief force was good, he had deployed his forces in an encircling maneuver that entrapped them between the new arrivals and the unbroken fortress. While eleven of the pods had fallen closer to the fortress, the rest were all BEHIND his lines.

The tactical table showed him none of the gory details thankfully, but he watched as entire legions were pushed to near annihilation. The frigates fired a few rounds, but they were ineffective, and soon enough they were silenced…one by that damnable tank that had run roughshod all over his forces since landing, and the others either by fire support from the opposing fleet or by heavy weapons from the ground forces.

As the last frigate went down in smoke, and the thirtieth infantry legion shattered, all hope of even holding the aliens at bay was gone. There was only one path left open to the Turians that would preserve even a modicum of dignity and a shred of their forces.

Letting out a deep breath, the Turian General spoke: "Get me an open channel to everyone, allied and enemy, on this planet."

A few seconds later Kyrik informed him that he had his channel. Clearing his throat to get rid of any hesitance, he spoke clearly: "This is General Arterius, commander of the ground forces assigned to the Turian Seventh Fleet. I hereby offer my army's unconditional surrender, and pray for treatment worthy of the valor of my men."

Bridge of the Corvus: ten minutes later

Legion Commander Shrike looked over the reports from the battle, and felt contentment. The planetary garrison had been out numbered horrifically, almost one thousand to one, and held out long enough for the XIXth Legion to arrive. Not only that, but they had only lost a single Legionary during the battle, the xeno who killed hi had gotten extremely lucky, but it had exposed a minor weakness in the armor…One that the AI, a Vulkan Class, in charge of the foundries was working to correct before their next encounter with the Turians.

Already CDF forces that were no longer needed on the western edge of the Empire were arriving, their ships and armament upgraded to the standard of the Marines and Navy. Soon Shanxi Prime would be unassailable. But that left the commander of the Raven Guard with a conundrum.

His forces were not needed in the west at the moment, and soon the east would be fortified beyond the abilities of these primitive Xenos to assail. So he was currently without orders, though he could take creative liberties and go on the offensive as a way to protect the Imperium's interest. In fact, the more he thought about going on the attack to teach the Turians not to interfere with the Empire, thus securing it's eastern border even more, appealed to him.

As such he opened the ship wide communications: "Brothers and Sisters, the strictest definition of our orders has been fulfilled! We have repelled the xenos threat to the Shanxi system, and soon the CDF will finish turning this world into a fortress to rival that of Cadia! But while this is true, we have not fully completed our orders in the truest sense, Shanxi might be fully in Imperial hands for now…but how long until it comes under threat again?"

"I say we do not give the enemy even ONE chance to counter attack. As such I have decided that we will launch a decapatory strike at the Turian military. Our target will be their primary "dreadnought" shipyard in their home system, Palaven!"

"So make yourselves ready, and go to the forges to receive your upgraded wargear. We leave in an hour."

Having said his piece he sent a message with his intentions to Terra. The reply back was short, and to the point: "Destroy Palaven's shipyards, and put on a show of force to bring them to the negotiating table. The Emperor commands it."

With his decision approved by the highest authority in the Imperium, Legion Commander Kayvaan Shrike waited for his forces to ready themselves. They would show why it is a bad idea to wake a "sleeping giant."

Next time: 314: Target: Palaven

Codex Legionary Geneseed Template: Much of the details behind the Legionary geneseed template is highly restricted to the upper echelons of the Empire. But even then, some of the information is unrestricted. Here's a summary of it.

1: Legionary enhancement relies heavily on technology from the Ancient Human Empire of the UNSC timeline to stabilize the much more intensive geneseed enough to be usable on a mass scale.

2: Due to the UNSC already having experience creating female supersoldiers; their expertise, combined with that of the Emperor himself, allowed the group assigned to creating the new generation to, with a LOT of shenanigans and brute forcing, get the geneseed compatible with female biology.

3: Because of the Ancient Human Empire's tech, which is superior even to that of the "Dark Age of Technology," each Legionary is to an unimproved Space Marine or Spartan (ie, not given the augments of the other, and then the further boost to their abilities to bring them on par with the Legionary geneseed) was to an unaugmented Imperial Guard recruit.

Mk X Imperator Power Armor: The Imperator pattern power armor is the pinnacle of general use power armor. Using the most advanced technology to date and the most protective metal formula, the Mk X takes all that was good with the old Imperial Power Armor, and merges it with the Mijolnr Mk VI. It is nearly silent to move in, has energy shielding, allows faster reactions than out of the armor, and due to the new metallurgical composition much slimmer than the old Imperial armors, while providing much higher levels of defense.

(look wise picture a hybrid of the Mk X the Primaris wear and a Mk VI Mijonir suit)

Codex Battle Barge Corvus:

The Corvus is the latest Battle Barge to leave the shipyards of Mars. 25 Km long, 15 km wide at the rear, and 10 km tall at its highest point in a wedge shape; the Battle were designed with the concept of long term use and ease of upgrade in mind. Currently most of the systems of this vessel are controlled by "dumb" AIs to allow the actual Legionaries to carry out more important duties, such as planetary invasion.

Equipped with twelve super heavy energy turret batteries (six on top, six on the bottom), forty eight heavy energy turret batteries, six hundred energy turret batteries, two thousand point defense batteries, and four Exterminatus grade weapon batteries; the newest Battle Barges are capable of wiping out entire fleets on their own.

On top of being able to dish out a lot of destruction it can whether unprecedented amount of firepower being thrown at it. Only another Battle Barge, or an even stronger vessel, even has a hope to defeat another.

Beyond its fire power and protection, the Battle Barge has multiple quantum lathes to manufacture new equipment, ranging from ammo all the way up to escort frigates; multiple apothecary chambers; dozens of launch bays for everything from the ubiquitous drop pod to frigate sized vessels.

Codex Conqueror Pattern Dreadnought:

The latest and greatest pattern of Dreadnought, the Conqueror is an impressive war machine. It's defenses are far superior to any other walker short of the prototypes in production to replace the Geara Zulu, and it's fire power would make a Tau drool in envy. A Conqueror is intended for one thing, conquest and victory in battle. These walkers can wade through fire that would make even Terminators hesitant, and fight monsters and machines that would be threats to tanks.

These Dreadnoughts have one feature that truly sets them apart from the older patterns, they can be piloted without being entombed in them. So even regular Legionaries can use these powerful engines of destruction, and if necessary leave the confines of these Dreadnoughts and fight as line Astartes.

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