Chapter-IV
"Great holes secretly are dug where earth's pores ought to suffice, and things have learned to walk that ought to crawl."
New Planet, Nova Arcadia
GULLIMANN-Quadrant, Northern Hemisphere,
The Nova Arcadia System.
It was nighttime, but that mattered little to Brother Librarian Voxel – he had considerable control in the energies of the Warp granting him almost precognitive abilities. The good news was that there were no hostiles in the immediate landing zone. The bad news was that this meant wherever they were, they had drifted far off-course, due to the strange weaponry the humans of this planet wielded. Voxel could feel… nothing? That didn't
He closed his eyes again and concentrated. Something was very strange…he could not feel the warp. Instead, he felt a dark pulsating mass of…nothing?
He focused harder. It couldn't be possible. Nothing could possibly fully block a fully trained Astartes Librarian. He had heard of the strange demise of the Grey Bulls, the fact that no Machine Spirits existed here…and now no Warp! He focused even harder as the squad around him prepared a campsite. He felt something and reached out before all of a sudden, his conscience was grabbed and flung into the pulsating darkness. Voxel did not know how many days he had travelled through this dark mass that had now grabbed him or how much time had passed, it had been instant and yet at the same time it felt like centuries.
Brother Librarian Voxel stared at the strange apparition before him in the void. The figure's outfit was bizarre - an ancient style of Terran formalwear including a black suit, white shirt, black fedora hat, and gleaming leather shoes. His features were pale and delicate, almost effeminate, with platinum blonde hair peeking out from under the hat.
But most striking were the eyes concealed behind circular sunglasses with mirrored lenses. Voxel could not see the figure's actual eyes, but had an uncanny sense of being watched closely, weighed and measured.
The apparition carried an equally archaic style black briefcase, holding it loosely in one hand while standing casually as if waiting for something. Its posture conveyed a sense of calm confidence and restrained power.
Overall, the bizarre anachronistic look combined with the strange void surroundings made for an extremely disorienting sight. Voxel had no context for making sense of what he was seeing. The figure seemed human, and yet...not. There was something eldritch and unnatural here, he could feel it.
Unsure whether he faced a potential foe or ally, Voxel kept his guard up. He would wait to see what move this odd entity made next.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here" In a flash, the entity was sitting on a rather comfortable futon.
"Who are you" Voxel growled. This creature certainly was not human, even though it took the shape of one, probably a daemon, but no chaos spawn could have executed the perfect human look.
"I am everything, and nothing" the entity flippantly drawled as it casually began to…smoke?
Voxel's eyes narrowed as the strange figure casually lit a cigarette and took a long drag. Its posture was relaxed, almost insolently so. As if chatting with an Astartes Librarian in the depths of the void was perfectly normal.
"I ask again, identify yourself," Voxel growled. "Are you a warp entity or xenos creature?" he narrowed his eyes, unsettled by the cryptic response. "Your riddles will not cloud the truth from me, daemon. Reveal your nature or face the Emperor's wrath!"
The entity took a long drag, exhaling a curl of smoke that hissed faintly in the dark void. "Daemons, gods, emperors - such antiquated concepts. I am merely what is, without form or function."
The apparition smiled languidly. " I'm far too complex for such labels." It gestured expansively with the cigarette.
It grinned, all white teeth and mocking sincerity. "You seek to understand what can never be grasped, friend marine. Your kind deals only in blunt force; subtler truths would bounce off that thick skull."
Voxel scowled, anger stirred by its patronizing tone. "If you are no daemon then what realm spawned you? None mortal could command this...place."
He gestured dismissively at the endless void stretching into the distance. An edge of desperation tinged his vox - to understand was to regain control of the situation. But the entity only smiled wider behind its shades.
"Realms, spawnings - you continue missing the point. I exist as an idea, a pattern, self-organizing like everything else. Where I come from is irrelevant; I am here, and here we will dialogue as needed."
Its words sank like sludge, occluding more than illuminating. Voxel realized with cold dread he may be speaking to something beyond even the Gods' comprehension. A true alien.
I AM A SERVANT OF HIS MOST HOLY MAJESTY THE GOD EMPEROR OF MANKIND, IDENTIFY YOURSELF OR YOU WILL BE SQUASHED LIKE THE INSIGNIFICANT BUG YOU ARE!" Voxel screamed.
In a flash the entity was in front of him, mere inches from his face, his sunglasses were whipped off, allowing Voxel to see the eyes, they were terrifying. The entity's eyes were the darkest obsidian, within them, Voxel saw the planet they were invading for the imperium as it went farther and farther away as it panned out, revealing countless stars, lifeless planets, everything. There was no life here except on this planet.
"You interest me...in a way, because, well you represent the worst humanity can become." The entity said as he puffed up a cloud of smoke.
"What!?"
"You come from a different universe." The entity replied casually, "A universe where, well, humans have regressed. You worship a man on a rotting chair. All while the galaxy burns, you hate aliens, and you preach, and preach, and preach."
"Because Humanity is the one true ruler of the Galaxy!" Voxel bellowed.
"Same old story, different universe." the entity retorted.
"You keep talking of universes, tell me? what do you mean by that?"
"Simple." The entity replied when it sat back on the futon, a glass of some alcohol in it's hand, "You are in a different, universe. Call it an AU, a different dimension, if you will."
The entity swirled its drink contemplatively. "Universes, dimensions - they exist alongside each other like pages in a book. Yours is one story among infinite possibilities."
It took a sip. "In some, humanity thrives among alien empires as equals. In others, robots or zombies caused humanity's extinction. In a few, even weirder things happened."
Replacing its shades, the entity's eyes again became inscrutable voids. "The point is, while compelling fiction, your Imperium's delusions hold no power here. This world developed freely without your influence, for better or worse."
Voxel shook his helmeted head stubbornly. "Your blasphemies will not shake my faith, warp-daemon. The Emperor is truth and light eternal!"
The entity rolled its eyes. "Still clinging to antiquated dogma, I see. Well, your kind always was slow on the uptake."
Back in Realspace
Brother Tallaran was getting agitated. Librarian Voxel was sitting there, his eyes were strangely black. "Librarian?" he asked tentively. Brother Tarion approached the motionless form of Librarian Voxel cautiously. The veteran psyker sat cross-legged, eyes jet black and empty. He had not moved or responded to external stimuli for some time now.
"Librarian Voxel?" Tarion questioned, laying a hand tentatively on the man's pauldron. Still no reaction. Voxel's body was present, but his mind seemed to be far away...or in peril.
Tarion waved over the squad's other battle-brothers. "The Librarian is unresponsive, possibly his psyche is trapped in the warp."
The marines exchanged concerned glances. A librarian's mind being adrift like this did not bode well.
"We should attempt to retrieve him," Brother Kelos rumbled. "If his spirit remains intact, focused ritual may call it back."
Tarion nodded. "Agreed. Form a circle around Voxel and join your psychic energies to mine. Focus on anchoring and reeling back his essence."
The marines complied, letting their minds link as they began the ritual chant. Psychic power built slowly, reaching out into the void, seeking their lost brother's presence.
Minutes passed with no results. Tarion redoubled his efforts, sweat beading his brow. "Voxel, hear us! We are here, brother. Follow our guide back from the shadows."
Still nothing. The librarian's body remained vacant; his spirit absent. Tarion feared the worst - they may have already lost him.
A low moan escaped Voxel's lips, followed by rapid fluttering behind his eyelids. His eyes soon opened, revealing their familiar cobalt glow once more.
The others quickly helped him up.
"Brother, we were worried. What caught you in its snare?"
The other marines looked askance at Voxel's evasive reply, but knew better than to press the matter further. Librarians kept their own counsel regarding mystic dealings in the warp.
Still, something about the elder psyker seemed subtly changed. His eyes, normally hard as steel, now harbored an opaque thoughtfulness difficult to place.
Tarion broke the uncertain silence. "Whatever entrapped you, you are returned intact. That is what matters."
He fixed Voxel with a steadying look. "The squad stood ready to offer you our aid, brother. Your gift is invaluable - do not endanger yourself rashly again without support."
Voxel nodded slowly, troubled thoughts roiling beneath his calm facade. He had looked upon a revelation that troubled old certainties, glimpsed vistas that reopened dusty trails of doubt long buried under compliance's shroud.
His brothers meant well, but could never comprehend what lay bare to his enlightened sight. This realm, its denizens, even the nature of their sacred Imperium - all stood open to novel interpretation in ways that frightened as much as fascinated.
But such quandaries must remain private. His duty lay in supporting his kin to victory, not sedition. Voxel steeled his nerve and banished further musings to the darkness once more.
"Your warning is just, brother. Let us make ready to fulfill our mandate." The squad responded dutifully, for now satisfied with duty's call.
MV Kronstadt War Academy.
Salrzgrad.
1995. June 2nd
Ulraznavia.
Hello?" Johannes Busch spoke into the phone receiver.
"Generalmajor Busch! We're under attack!" The voice all but screamed back.
What?" Busch asked confusedly.
"We're under attack by unknown forces! We need immediate backup!" the voice on the other end said in a panicked voice.
Several hours earlier
Forward Headquarters. General Alexis Jaeger
2211st Cadian Shock Troop regiment.
"Are the troops ready?" General Alexis Jaeger of the 211th Cadian Shock Troops regiment asked his aide.
"I'd like to ask for a few more minutes, but the troops are ready to go sir." Marko replied.
"Good, good. I'd better contact the others then."
"Agreed."
Jaeger walked over to the desk where a vox set was placed. The operator, noticing his superior quickly dialed the set to the correct frequency. Jaeger nodded before taking the receiver immediately speaking on the other end.
"Wiedemann, this is Jaeger, Battlefleet Scolaris and the War Council have given us the green light. Operation Brutalis Rex is a go."
There was a beat of silence before the voice on the other end finally spoke. "Very well." That was all the voice of General Rudolf Wiedemann, CO of the 144th Death Korps of Krieg Siege regiment said before the line was cut.
Blunt as always. Jaeger thought. Placing the receiver down, he gave a terse nod to the operator before he gathered his cap and walked out of the tent.
Outside, in the dark predawn hours, Jaeger could see his troops hard at work. Hervarar class dropships shuttled Leman Russ Tanks and Chimera APCs. Valkyrie's were transporting Shock Troops to the camp. On the flat strip of land his troops had turned into an ad-hoc landing strip, Vulture gunships were being overseen by the tech adepts of the mechanicum, and ground crews.
"Well, aren't we a fucking sight for sore eyes?" Jaeger mused. The plan Lord Admiral Cardin Vallin and the War Council had created seemed foolproof. Since coming to this system after the disastrous Warp jump had left the fleet capable of sublight only, the commanders had hashed out a quick plan. Take the third planet of the system, a world that resembled Holy Terra except for the fact that it was twice the size of Terra, Imperial forces would transport themselves onto all 7 continents and begin compliance of the local population.
Then, the fleet would arrive and the construction of the necessary facilities needed for repairing void ships would be constructed. Foolproof plan on paper.
But we all know plans aren't foolproof on the ground. Jaeger thought.
Jaeger lit a lho-stick and blew smoke thoughtfully, surveying his massed regiments finalizing deployment. Over 50,000 soldiers stood ready under his command alone, supported by enough armor, air, and artillery to level small nations.
Yet success depended on coordination between twelve such combined-arms forces assaulting simultaneously across this strange world. Intelligence remained frustratingly sparse on the indigenous population's strength or disposition, leaving much to chance.
Jaeger paced along the lines of Immolator flame tanks, observing Shock Troopers performing final kit checks under the orange-tinged predawn light. They stood ready in their carapace plates and scout carapace, Lasguns charged and stubbornly defiant expressions fixed below gas masks.
These were no green recruits - veterans of all of a hundred campaigns from Armageddon to Graia. But this world presented the most variables ever faced; they relied on Jaeger and the other veterans to see them through the unknown.
He stopped by a Sgt. working on her flak armor. " status, Top?"
"All present and accounted for, sir. We're loaded for Bear-mortar squads standing by, flyboys just gave the all-clear."
She grinned fiercely. "Just give the word, we'll roll these xeno-loving heretics and plant Old Glory on that spire!"
Jaeger returned the grin, though inwardly he wondered what fresh hells awaited. At least supporting artillery, armor and air stood ready to pound any resistance.
He turned as a Valkyrie set down, disgorging several officers wearing ornate death masks denoting their Krieg affiliation. Leading them was the dreaded General Wiedemann himself, renowned butcher of a hundred hive wars.
Wiedemann inclined his head curtly. "All regiments report deployed as planned along our invasion corridor, General. Siege train and artillery emplacements covering probable defensive zones. We await only your command to initiate bombardment."
Jaeger nodded, impressed as always by Krieg's efficiency despite minimal intel. "Understood. What's your assessment of potential resistance along your front?"
Wiedemann's rebreather filtered a derisive snort. "Unknown, as always when dealing with civilians. But they will break, have no doubt. Once we breach their shell, fear and compliance will spread like contagion."
Makro approached the General, giving a crisp salute. "Sir, all regiments report 90% combat strength achieved. Heretics and dropships are completing pre-flight checks, should be 100% ready to fly within the hour."
Jaeger nodded. "Very good Lieutenant. Have our first wave prep for dust-off, I want them in the air just before dawn. That should put us on the ground around 0600 as planned."
Marko relayed the orders. Around them, shock troopers in green fatigues were forming up squads and platoons as sergeants barked orders. The dull roar of Valkyrie engines warming up echoed across the tarmac.
A cadre of Mechanicum priests marched past, chanting incantations over the towering armored forms of Leman Russ tanks. Their tracks and autocannons were oiled and primed, barrels gleaming dully in the low light.
The first drops of rain began to fall as a black cloth was removed from a titanic Basilisk self-propelled gun. Its massive ordnance launcher swiveled smoothly, calibrated for long range fire missions.
Jaeger peered up at the clouds, feeling the tension in the air. The coming dawn would see them committed, strength of arms all that stood between victory and failure. He could only pray their forces proved equal to the trials ahead, and that the Emperor smiled upon their righteous endeavor.
With the first birds aloft, there was nothing more to do but see it through. Jaeger barked a final order to Marko. "Inform all commands: wheels up in five minutes. May the God-Emperor protect us."
Jaeger checked his wrist chrono again, the minutes ticking by with maddening slowness. Phase one was underway - Valkyrie squadrons had departed to begin scouting and airborne insertions beyond the landing zones.
But the main armored spearhead waited on his word. Out on the plains, Leman Russ demolishers rumbled into position, treads kicking up great rooster tails of earth. Heavy Bolters clanked as ammo belts were fed, 203mm cannon muzzles tracking invisible targets. Immolators primed their flamers and meltas with practiced precision. Only the artillery remained inert, waiting on Jaeger's signal.
He watched the skies intently, hoping for an early sit-rep from Gamma Squadron. Any information could prove the difference between order and chaos on the ground. But so far only low clouds greeted his gaze, shielding the unknown below.
A crackle in his ear - "Jaeger Actual, this is Gamma Lead. Initial flyovers show light contacts, and possible primitive civilian structures. Sending coordinates, request artillery fire mission over."
Jaeger froze, senses suddenly alive with danger's flush. So it began - with the flash of distant cannons, their liberation from above would commence. He keyed his mic with a grim smile.
"Gamma Lead, Jaeger Actual. Fire mission is hot, repeat hot. Rain hell on those coordinates and clear the way for our righteous advance! The Emperor protects."
He swung to his waiting men. "Artillery, commence barrage! Leman Russ', bogeys rolling in 3 mikes! Today we show these heretics the price of defiance!"
Thousands of voices roared as one. "For the Emperor!" The Compliance of Nova Arcadia had truly begun.
Within minutes, unarmed villages that had been peacefully doing their own thing suddenly heard the sound of tanks and armor coming from the east. Some houses barely registered that they were under attack before the boot of a guardsman smashed the door down. The advance was swift and quick. They soon arrived at what looked like abandoned fortifications-typical rebel cowards. They'd probably run when they heard retribution was coming their way.
Jaeger had expected minimal resistance at least. But no rebels hampered his advance. He did think it was a bit strange but soon brushed it off. The Astra Millitarum had achieved total surprise over the rebels. Or so they thought...
Salrzgrad.
Ulraznavian Federation.
Dawn of June 3rd.
1995. Officially Day-2 of WW3
In the capital of Ulraznavia, an officer quickly rushed to the Reichstag, he was a member of an Aufklärungs-Abteilung (reconnaissance battalion), and similar messengers were sent to other military installations across the country and abroad to spread the word to the rest of Euronia. WW3 had begun with an extraterrestrial invasion.
The Ulraznavians had not been blind to the developments in Maszowia and other continents. Despite the lack of information, they'd put a few pieces together and were ready. It pained them to let so many villages and regions fall into unknown hands, but Western and Central Ulraznavia needed to be defended. And if it meant most of East Ulraznavia was sacrificed then so be it.
As the various city governments in East Ulraznavia began to evacuate, calls went out to warn the other states in Euronia. However, the region of East Prussia on the border of Maszowia, was about to become a bloody crucible in what would become known, as the Third World War.
Ulraznavian-Maszowian Border.
East Prussia.
Oder-Neisse Line.
Dawn of June 3rd.
1995.
Stabsunteroffizier Sebastian Krenz was one of the unlucky guys to be posted on the border this close to their rotation. Being at the tail end of their service on the border, Krenz and the other officers in their battalion had drawn straws to see who's unlucky squad would take part in the final border guard shift. And he'd drawn the short one much to his chagrin.
Now Krenz sipped bitter coffee, glaring balefully out the guard station window into the misty dawn. Nothing but forest as far as the eye could see, an endless sea of pines broken only by the narrow patrol road winding snake-like into obscurity.
This posting had always been a dead-end, even in peacetime - remote, uneventful, and cold as the devil's heart in winter, but bearable right now in summer.
"Damn am I bored" His companion Rudrik muttered grumpily. Krenz really couldn't blame him, the postings in East Prussia were some of the most boring in Ulraznavia. The only exciting thing they'd done for the past hours was let through a massive armed convoy of Ulraznavian, Edenite and US army vehicles to pass through to Maszowia. Now, it was back to boring watches till rotation.
A glance at his watch - shift change was due. Krenz rose and donned his fleece liner with relief, eager to pass duties to the next poor sods. As he exited, movement in the treeline caught his eye. Figures, backlit by the mist, emerged in ones and twos from the forest edge.
Krenz's hand dropped to his pistol holster. "Halt! Identify yourselves!" Only the murmur of pines answered. He raised his voice sharply. "This is your only warning! State registration or you will be fired upon!"
Voices began to call out in panicked Maszowian. The lights grew bigger and bigger until Sebastian could see as the fog dissipated until a large motorcycle and sidecar stopped in front of the barrier.
Sebastian guessed that the soldiers were their Maszowian counterparts from the other side of the river.
Both of them ran over to Krenz and began chattering away quickly in Maszowian and Edenite.
Krenz was forced to take them both to the battalion's billet in a lone, isolated Gausthaus. There, Sebastian brought the two to a comrade of his who could speak Maszowian fluently and translated for them. It didn't take long for the message to be understood.
Aliens were attacking Earth.
The news had shocked the battalion so much, that at first it was dismissed as a hoax. Some of Krenz's comrades even suggested the border guards were drunk, or even perhaps on recreational drugs.
Unfortunately, one of the border guards soon produced evidence, a group of polaroid photos showing intense combat taking place on the border.
Almost immediately, the squad reached a consensus. Even Krenz was a bit shaken but the Maszowians were insistent and there was a large amount of fear in their eyes. It was decided that they needed to warn the high command and start evacuating the towns.
As a result, Krenz was now heading towards the nearest town to get hold of a line telephone. For this, he'd been granted use of the Maszowian Guard's motorcycle. And along with Rudrik, headed to the nearest town.
They'd driven around for a short bit before finding a telephone booth. While Sebastien tried to contact higher-ups, Rudrik went to wake up the town.
After several failed attempts, he finally got connected to the MV Kronstadt War Academy in the capital. He was then routed to the office of one Generalmajor Johannes Busch, the only high ranking officer currently on station.
"Hello! Generalmajor Busch?"
"Hello?" Johannes Busch spoke into the phone.
"Gneralmajor! Its begun!" Krenz nearly screamed to release his fruistration,
"Who is it?"
"Aliens sir! Aliens!"
"And how do you know this?" Busch asked.
"The Maszowian border guards, they showed us evidence..."
"Shit! Alright soldier, what's your name?"
"Sebastien Krenz. sir. I command a platoon."
Busch's voice sharpened perceptibly. "Explain everything, Krenz. Leave nothing out."
Succinctly, the Unteroffizier detailed the encounter - the Maszovian troops emerging from the woods in a panic, their harrowing tales relayed through a translator confirming first contact with an unknown, technologically advanced adversary.
"We demanded proof, Herr General," Krenz continued, regaining some composure. "They produced photographs showing...impossible things, vehicles and weapons like nothing of ours or any nation on Earth. The men are shaken up badly."
Busch muttered a curse, mind racing. This changed everything overnight. "You've done well contacting me, Unteroffizier. Roust out your whole command immediately and initiate complete evacuation of all settlements within 30km of your position, civilian and military. Consider yourselves at war footing as of now."
Krenz swallowed. "Jawohl, Herr General! We'll clear the area with all haste." Putting the receiver down he walked out to a nervous, waiting Rudrik.
"Well?"
Krenz stared at his comrade, "We have to evacuate the town and get the battalion on the move. Head to a city, Posen, or Breslau maybe."
"Okay, but what about the Maszowians?"
Shit! He'd forgotten about those two. "Well, there's no use sending them back, they'll just end up killing themselves attacking the aliens. Tell them they're more than welcome to join us…
There was a shrill whistling sound that was getting higher and higher, reaching a crescendo…oh no.
"Artillery" Krenz screamed.
Fuck, this was bad. Krenz sped the motorcycle down the empty highway, Rudrik clinging on behind. The forest flashed by in a blur as they raced to warn their men.
"Go faster, Sebastian!" Rudrik shouted over the engine roar. As if in answer, another whistling shell exploded in the distance. Were the aliens zeroing in on artillery already?
They crested a hill and saw plumes of smoke rising from the treeline in the direction of their base. Krenz gunned the throttle, leaning low over the handlebars to squeeze every last mph from the bike.
As they tore into the base, pandemonium reigned. Shouting men scrambled to load vehicles as another barrage crashed nearby. Krenz jumped off while still moving, sprinting to their CO, Oberleutnant Felix Baer.
"Sir, it's the aliens - artillery fire, Maszowians said aliens are attacking from the forests!" he gasped out between heaving breaths.
Baer's eyes widened in shock, but he recovered swiftly. "All units, break camp now! Load and advance west, route Alpha-7. We pull back and rendezvous with the Panzergrenadiers in Breslau. Move it, men, double time!"
The next harrowing half hour passed in a blur as the men fell back under bombardment. Casualties mounted but they clung to order and momentum. At last, the treeline passed, and calm countryside spread ahead. They'd made it - now to find answers, and allies, in the city beyond.
USS LOS ANGLES. NUCLEAR POWERED FAST ATTACK SUB
CAPT Bartolomeo Vito "Bart" Mancuso.
"Attention, all hands, we are at DEFCON-2. This is not a drill."
The announcement made Bart Mancuso awaken. DEFCON-2? His boat had just come home from exercise SILENT RETORT. He had heard rumors about a worldwide "Alien Invasion" but just choked it up to a couple of drunk spooks, his XO gave him the printed orders before going back to the bridge.
TO: ALL SUB COMMANDERS
COMMENCE UNRESTRICTED WARFARE AGAINST HOSTILES
OUN NAVIES ARE HELPING AS WELL
WE ARE AT WAR
GODSPEED.
"Oh, come on, I was just getting ready for Christmas" A sailor, Jenna if he remembered correctly, grumbled as she went to her workstation.
Mancuso suppressed a weary sigh as he stared down at the DEFCON 2 orders. So much for holiday leave plans. The spooks' wild rumors were actually true - Earth was facing an alien invasion. And the Silent Service would be called upon to fight back with their sturdy boats.
"Alright team, vacation's postponed," he announced over the shipwide intercom. "We've got new orders to commence unrestricted submarine warfare against an extraterrestrial hostile force. I know it sounds crazy, but intel confirms we're at war."
He heard muffled swearing and complaints echo through the hull at the news. The crew had been eagerly anticipating shore leave after months underway. This came as an unwelcome shock.
"Stow the grousing and get to battlestations," Mancuso ordered firmly. "We have a planet to defend, so let's load tubes and get into the fight."
The seasoned submariner in him relished this chance to test them against a new, unknown foe. And he knew his crew would do their duty, grumbling or not.
"XO, plot an intercept course for these coordinates," Mancuso pointed at the intel report. "It's time to show our visitors what submariners can do."
The LA's diesels rumbled to life and propellers churned as she came about. Another tour begun, but this time the stakes were far higher. Mancuso silently urged his boat onwards. Today, they would make history.
1600 Pennsylvania Ave.,
Washington, District Of Columbia.
"Danny, what in the world is happening?" exclaimed the President, rising from his desk as the Secretary Of Defense entered the Oval Office. "We're being invaded by unknown forces and I feel completely clueless about it!" To prove his point, he grabbed the remote control and turned up the volume on his Sony Trinitron Color TV.
CNN was broadcasting, and the first thing that appeared was the flashing headline "BREAKING NEWS: CONCORDIA UNDER ATTACK", accompanied by the initial images from Los Angeles. The proud city had recently hosted the Olympics, but now it had turned into a battleground. An aerial shot from a news helicopter showed smoke billowing from Hollywood, then panned to the left to reveal more smoke rising from Century City. The President was familiar with this area, so it was no surprise that the Secretary of Defense could see genuine distress on his face.
The channel then switched to another camera crew at their studio. CNN's center in LA was located on Sunset Boulevard, not far from the epicenter of the chaos; the camera crew on the building's roof captured a clear view of the devastation just a few blocks away. The iconic pagoda tower of the Dao Theater was engulfed in flames. In the sky, several police helicopters were circling the scene, and a moment later, a Black Hawk helicopter with USMC insignia joined them - probably dispatched from El Toro.
The Secretary of Defense shifted uncomfortably as he watched the TV footage. "Well, Sir," he began, "we have confirmed that it's not the Stovies."
"Well, thank goodness it's not the Commie's, that's a huge relief, isn't it?" snapped the President, bitterly. "So who are they? Where did they come from? Why are they attacking us?"
"Mr. President, we are still trying to determine that ourselves," replied Danny. He reached into the folder he was carrying and pulled out several papers. "...here's what we have discovered so far. Exactly thirty minutes ago, NASA detected several... unusual occurrences in the upper thermosphere."
"Unusual occurrences?" questioned the President, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, indeed," responded the Secretary, "there was a sudden burst of radiation, followed by this..." He showed a colorful photograph of a strange portal that was glowing and swirling with various shades of pink, purple, blue, and orange, contrasting sharply with the darkness of space behind it. "The crew of Challenger captured this photo at 1201 EST."
"It resembles an eye," commented the President, "like something you'd see in a cheesy B-movie."
The Secretary couldn't help but think that the President had a knack for recognizing elements from terrible B-movies. He continued, "These anomalies, including this one, appeared out of nowhere and vanished within a minute. Immediately after, we detected incoming threats over California, Texas, Florida, South Dakota, and Virginia. EUCOM also detected similar anomalies over Edenite Airspace. Initially, we suspected that the Reds might have developed a new advanced delivery system, as we hadn't detected any missile launches. We had very little time to react before they reached us, not even enough to activate our anti-missile defenses. On one hand, it's fortunate that they aren't nuclear weapons. On the other hand..."
He glanced at the TV screen, which now showed a second unit stationed just outside the entrance of the CNN building. They were hesitant to venture further, but their cameras captured vivid images of people on the streets. Some were frozen in shock, while others were desperately running for safety. Sunset Boulevard was congested with traffic as cars tried to flee from Hollywood. The pile-up had even spread to the westbound lanes, as some drivers attempted to bypass the traffic and ended up colliding with oncoming vehicles. Two LAPD officers stood outside the CNN center, shouting and waving frantically at the drivers still in their cars, trying to clear a path for a SWAT truck and several police cars that were bravely making their way into the war-zone to try and restore order.
He continued: "Langley has noticed an increase in communications on the other side of the Curtain in the past half-hour. We can confirm that they have made landings in Moskvingrad, Leningrad, somewhere in the Urals, Maszowia, and Ulraznavia."
"These are not the only places, right?" asked the President.
"No, sir, they are not," sighed SecDef, "the last two confirmed before I came here were Dubai and Jerusalem."
The President shook his head. "And Mr Locke?"
"He is currently in Brighton, attending a party conference. But London is under attack; I doubt he will be returning anytime soon."
"And the King?"
"The latest information from Edenite Intelligence is that... he is in London," said Danny, reproachfully, "along, with his wife, and their two girls."
"Christ," breathed the President. It felt like the damn Book Of Revelation coming true.
"Uh, sir? Now regarding the landing in Virginia..."
"Yes, where are they, and where are they heading now?"
"The National Guard has tracked multiple landings, stretching from the Rappahannock River to the outskirts of Richmond. If each of these landings means a dozen more attackers... Sir, if we can't stop them, we will need to evacuate DC."
"There are 5 million people in the capital area," said the President, glumly.
"Norfolk is already on high combat alert, sir. I am going to order all of our other bases and forces around the world to be moved to DEFCON-1. I don't think they intend to nuke us, or they would have done so already, but we cannot completely rule out that possibility yet."
"Get me General Matthews at Northcom, now," the President snapped. His secretary scurried to comply as Danny continued, "Early analysis indicates these hostiles utilize advanced aerospace and directed energy capabilities far beyond our own. Their goals remain unclear."
The line clicked. "General, this is the President. What's the status of the Virginia incursions?"
A grizzled voice replied, tight with stress. "Sir, we're trying to get eyes on with Reapers, but they've got counter-air superiority. SATCOM shows multiple contacts converging on DC from all directions. Ground units are engaging the nearest groups but they're taking losses."
"Casualties?"
A sour chuckle. "Lost a company of Marines already, trying to box in the Richmond group. Whatever these things are, they don't go down easy and hit hard from long range. Request permission to utilize strategic assets."
The President glanced at Danny, who shook his head tightly. "Not yet, General. Try to slow their advance without escalation. What's the civilian situation?"
"Dire, sir. Evacs are overwhelmed, and traffic's at a standstill. National Guard is helping move as many as possible but it's total anarchy."
Sirens wailed in the distance as DC went on full alert. The President rubbed his eyes. "Do what you can, General. We'll be leaving for Raven Rock shortly. Keep me updated and Godspeed. The fate of the nation is in your hands."
He hung up, fixing Danny with a steely look. "Mobilize the reserves and put the triad on high alert. Initiate continuity of government protocols and get the cabinet to the bunker. Then I want you in the Situation Room figuring out how to turn this tide before tonight. Dismissed."
Danny saluted and hurried out, already barking orders into his phone. Outside, air raid sirens joined the cacophony as darkness fell on a capital under siege. For the first time in two generations, existential threats loomed, and enemies gathered at the gates. Concordia, and the world, held its breath.
June 3rd, 1995.
Cottbus Airbase.
Ulraznavia.
Theodor Eberbach was awoken from his short slumber by the sound of the ADA siren bellowing. It appeared another drill was underway, as it had been for the past few weeks. The 18-year-old redhead grumbled as he tried to comb his shaggy, short red hair. Giving up, he grabbed his equipment like his flight harness and helmet before he walked out of the quarters and out to the flight line. Theo trudged towards the flight line, still half asleep. A blast of cold air woke him as he stepped outside into the grey pre-dawn. The smell of jp-4 hung heavy in the chill.
"Late night with the girlfriend, Eberbach?" called Kruger with a grin. The others chuckled.
"You know I don't date," grimace Theo. It was an old joke by now.
"Better watch it, he might get you instead!" yelled Anett. More laughter. Theo flipped her off good-naturedly.
Irisdina strode up, ever stoic. "Ready up, we've got drills. Eberbach, Hosenfeld, you're on my six today."
They scrambled to their fighters as ground crews swarmed around, doing preflight. Theo ran through his checklist, nodding to Lan as she taxied past. Engines roared to life, filling the air with thunder.
"Schwarz squadron, sound off!" came Irisdina's order over the comm. Callsigns responded one by one until only Theo remained.
"Schwarz-8, ready for takeoff."
"Then let's see what you've got today. Up and at 'em!"
Theo flashed Lan a thumbs up and tugged his flight helmet on. With a lurch he taxied onto the runway, punching afterburners to rocket into the pink dawn sky.
Within seconds, like darts, the MiG-21 Balalaika's were soon airborne, and flying eastward to the Oder-Niesse Line.
"Try not to fuck this up Theo." Anett laughed over the radio. She was referring to a certain incident that had occurred 1 year ago. Not exactly good.
"Yeah, Yeah shutup."
His thoughts were rudely interrupted by the voice of the ground controller speaking over the radio,
"Schwarze squadron. Hostiles have breached Ulraznavian airspace near the Maszowian border. Intercept and Identify, Over and Out."
The MiG-21s rapidly changed course, flying towards the AO. The morning fog was still thick, and visibility was bad, but not that impossible to fly in.
"Can't see anything in this weather," Inghilde reported over the airwaves.
Theodor squinted, he could see silhouettes near them, they were big, roughly the size of a standard 4-engined strategic bomber.
"I've got something on my scope, can't see much but I think they're the targets."
"Roger 08, good eye, let's move in for a closer look," Bernhard replied.
The squadron moved through the fog, getting closer to the shadowy shapes. And then, they broke through the fog. And Theodor saw that they were indeed bombers…the most ugly looking 4 engined bombers ever.
The elongated fuselage of each bomber bore a distinctive Gothic-esque design, adorned with serrated edges and ominous embellishments that spoke of the a dark aesthetic. Twin stabilizers extended from the tail section, giving the impression of a looming predatory insect. The metallic skin of the bombers seemed to absorb the ambient light, casting an eerie sheen across their forms.
The alien bombers loomed ahead, fat ugly targets unaware of the Schwarze squadron closing fast through the fog.
"Schwarzes, lock on and fire at will. Take them down!" Irisdina ordered coldly.
Theo squeezed the trigger, sending a of missile streaking towards the nearest bomber. Explosions bloomed across its flank as the one of its engines was hit, causing the other engine to explode, shearing away armor like tissue paper. As it started to lose altitude, Theo pulled up and barreled towards the next.
"Target destroyed, moving to the next one," he reported.
They swarmed the lumbering group, raking them from all sides with cannon and missiles. Alarms must have sounded aboard the aliens because their return fire finally began lashing out - pulsing orange beams that vaporized anything they touched.
"Break off, break off!" Lan shouted. "They're targeting us, pull into the clouds!"
Theo broke hard, skimming into the fog bank as fiery annihilation flashed behind. His wingman followed into the murk. "Schwarz 8 with me. Let's come around for another pass." Bernhard's clipped voice ordered him on the radio.
He replied instantly. "Got it, maintaining visual contact. Two more bandits remaining, moving to assist Schwarz 7 and 5."
Peeling skyward, Theo saw the flashes of ongoing combat dimly through the clouds. His HUD painted the targets, and he dived with, straining as the G-Forces began to strain him. "Schwarz 8, fox two!"
The firing solution was beautiful, with two missiles impacting simultaneously to tear the bomber's insides out. As it tumbled, Theo glimpsed the dim forms within - no time to ponder, as Lan called, "Final target dead ahead!"
They pounced as one, peppering the last bomber with gunfire. Smoke poured from ruptured seams until it stalled, spiraling inexorably down to crash among the trees below.
The six MiGs of Schwarzesmarken squadron touched down one by one on the tarmac at Cottbus. Ground crews swarmed the fighters as pilots extracted themselves, tossing helmets and gloves to the ground in relief.
"Not half bad, eh Theo?" Lan asked with a grin as they did their post-flight checks. Theo allowed himself a rare smile. "First blood against the aliens. Not a bad way to start the war."
Kruger slapped him on the back. "And you didn't even fuck up this time!" The others howled with laughter at the old joke. For once, Theo took it in good humor. Their victory had lifted squadron morale immensely after the initial shock of contact.
Inside the ready room, Irisdina debriefed them sharply. "Good work people. Schwarzesmarken draws first blood for Ulraznavia. But make no mistake, this was only a scouting party. Heavier forces will follow, so savor this moment. Dismissed - go get some rest while you can. We fly again at dusk."
The pilots dispersed, a cocky air clinging to their leather jackets despite the sobering reminder. At the mess, a raucous celebration had already begun. Pilots from other squadrons congratulated them loudly.
Theo sat with Kruger and some of the other Schwarzes, nursing a beer in comparative silence. But for once, the knot in his stomach had loosened. He found himself believing, against all logic, that maybe - just maybe - they had a chance in this war.
Imperial Nemisis class Aircraft Carrier Hermes Solaris.
"We just lost contact with Beta flight." the Auspex officer reported from his "Pit"
"Finally, seems like they've revealed they have a sub atmospheric air arm." the CIC mused. His ship, like all other transport and support ships had arrived in orbit over this planet before the main forces of battlefleet Scolaris arrived.
Captain Jofere Nero paced around the deck, processing this new development. Their reconnaissance flights had encountered resistance - a troubling sign.
"Launch interdiction wings. Deploy bombers to identify and destroy any hostile air bases within strike range. And get me a long-range auspex scan, I want to know what else these primitives are hiding."
The crew sprang into action. Within moments, warplanes were launching from the Solaris' mighty hangars, squadrons of fighters and bombers peeling off to darken the skies of this blue world below. Their advanced sensors would find answers.
On the holotable, a planetary map sprang to life. Data flooded in as auspex sweeps penetrated for hundreds of miles in all directions. Heat signatures marked military sites across multiple continents, along with primitive communications networks and vehicle routes.
"Magnify grid section Four-Gamma," Nero ordered. A technician zoomed in on the Eastern area of the continent the War Council had christened Centaura. Cities glowed with infrared, along with military formations mobilizing near rough terrain. Snippets of panicked radio chatter spilled from loops.
Nero analyzed the situation with cool calculation. "They're in a state of chaos and disarray. Primitive, but may yet pose a threat left unchecked. Target high-population city centers to break their will to fight. Then we purge these infestations from the countryside at our leisure."
His first officer nodded. Nero turned to him.
"What's the status on the main fleet?"
"It'll arrive in a week or two sir." Lt Garrick replied
"Hmm. Alright, I'm going to retire to my cabin. Set all squadrons to ADA patrol, do not go on the offensive. Call me if something happens."
"Alright, goodnight sir," Garrick said to his superior. As he watched him disappear, Garrick resigned himself to another boring shift. Had the Vox not started beeping?
"Urgent communique from the Divine Right! Flagship of Lord Admiral Cardin Vallin. Orders are as follows. Maintain blockade posture. All land forces are to complete landing. No rebel cities are to be destroyed; the fleet needs the facilities in one piece. And those people will be brought into the Emperor's fold."
"Solid copy." Garrick nodded before settling in with a mug of recaf and stretching his legs.
"Wait...how long is fleet ETA?"
"A few more days."
Garrick groaned. "Oh well," he was just a junior officer after all.
Lt. Garrick sighed and leaned back in his command throne, absently swirling the cooling recaf in his mug. He'd lost count of how many cycles he'd pulled on the crew roster lately. Being the most junior officer aboard the Solaris had its drawbacks, namely getting stuck with the dull shifts while the rest of the staff got some well-earned recreation time.
At least the auspex was quiet, nothing but the usual energy blooms and static from the primitive world below. The odd chatter in their incomprehensible language drifted up now and then, but lacked any sense of urgency. Whatever passes for military command down there must still be reeling in chaos, he mused. Pleasant thought, that their presence alone could sow such panic.
He took another sip of recaf and wrinkled his nose. Gone cold ages ago. With a disgusted grunt he dumped it in the sanitation chute and triggered the cleaning servitors to sterilize his mug. A quick vox summons brought a fresh pot steaming onto the command dais, courtesy of the over-attentive serf crew. At least the small luxuries of a well-run ship kept boredom's claws dulled.
Stretching his cramped legs, Garrick paced the circumference of the holotable. No new contacts, not that he expected any. Intelligence had confirmed this world's inhabitants lacked even crude spaceflight. What chance would they stand against the might of an Expeditionary Fleet? It was almost insulting how effortless domination had proven so far.
He sighed again. Only a few more hours to go in his shift, then maybe a warm meal and a half-decent night's rest if the serf-cooks felt kind. Assuming no crises arose of course, which seemed less likely by the moment.
Perhaps when the time finally came, seeing these primitives broken and enslaved at the Fleet's triumphant coming would make the anticipation worth it. For now, tedium reigned supreme aboard the Solaris. Another dreary cycle to endure and forget.