Chapter 3: Hostiles

The giant blue gas planet dwarfed two of its smaller orbiting moons, its winds easily blowing at several magnitudes greater than any storm found on any other rocky planet. One moon was desolate and barren, filled with nothing but the overwhelming abundance of dust and grime. The other was an earth-like moon, filled with teeming flora, climates, and a proper atmosphere. They were far enough away to avoid heavy exposure to the planet's extreme radiation belt, but close enough to share a stable elliptical path around it. As the turian fleet approached, one could see several brief flashes of light bursting brightly around the surface of the moon, illuminating the cloud's silhouettes.

"It would seem that their colony has already been shrouded in war."

Sivyndas surveyed the holographic scan of the moon. Their intense battles raged all over the alien globe, not just confined within a certain island continent that was seemingly scattered across the ravaged world. It seemed almost unnatural to him, these continents. Massive disconnected and abnormally square landmasses with their own unique climate and geography. There were arid deserts, snowy wastelands, lush mountains, swampy congested forests; all in their specially contained areas separated by large bodies of water. The lush moon could become a valuable estate, as they were difficult to come by. It is a shame that an ongoing war was tearing it apart.

"A civil war?" Kyrus guessed. It was a good a guess as any.

The Admiral shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe. But a war of a scale this immense couldn't have started just a few hours ago. No, it looks as though that their war has started far before we even knew this system existed."

No region of this moon was left unscathed from havoc of war. Everywhere he scanned his eyes around the holographic globe, red dots continued to appear in every conceivable location. The human colonists were fighting amongst themselves in massive theaters of never-ending aggression.

This isn't just a colony with petty civil battles, fighting over trivial issues. Sivyndas mused, a web of theories being spun in his mind, before mentally hitting himself for nearly forgetting something important.

"Excuse me for a moment. I must return to my private quarters."

Tildven sat quietly in his chair, keenly observing the chaotic moon before him. In his head, he liked to imagine the thunderous boom reverberating against his ears every time an explosion burst from the clouds. It does not matter soon. They'll just swoop right in and end their petty little conflicts there on the surface before they could ever even hope to respond appropriately.

"The enemy is at our gates," Tildven mumbled to himself, "Or rather, we are at the enemies' gates."

The intercom spoke against the vacant silence in his room.

"Sir, we have identified a large number of artificial satellites orbiting the planet's moon."

"What kind of satellites?" The general asked; his voice began to tense up, "Are they an imminent threat to us?"

"Negative. They're mostly communication though they are lightly armed with chemically propelled weapons. They are transmitting an unexpected amount of heavy radio waves as well as frequently dropping containers from its interior towards the surface."

"And they're not manned?" Tildven eased his minor anxiety.

"I assumed they were. Perhaps the ejecting pods indicate that they were evacuating upon having visual on our incoming fleet. However, this is strangely abnormal. They're frequently ejecting pods far greater than the maximum capacity of their satellite's hold."

"How so? Like they appeared out of thin air?"

"I do not know."

Tildven leaned closely to the windows, "Monitor them closely. Have our guns be trained on them but hold your fire until I say otherwise."

"No, actually. I retract my words. Let us wait for Admiral Sivyndas' command. I'm sure he hates my very being after I disobeyed his previous order. Let's not give him more of a reason to court martial me for insubordination."

"Affirmative." The intercom replied before cutting out.

The Hierarchy greatly frowns on the act of disobeying a higher ranked individual and Tildven knew that all too well. He did occasionally felt a tinge of regret from his blatant disregards of Sivyndas' orders, but was soon subsided for his eagerness for extracting revenge against the Alliance. To think that they could get away with activating another Relay filled him with outrage, his blood boiling in his veins.

"I hope the prisoner didn't give you too much trouble." Sivyndas spoke as he stepped out of the elevator.

Issaria sat on the nearest chair, reading through her notes on her omnitool, "He was usually calm during my presence and proved to be quite cooperative. He masked his anxiety quite well."

We were supposed to be discussing about Tildven's recklessness and insubordinate actions. But in light of recent activities, I suppose it's best to start with the prisoner first.

"Have you retrieved any valuable information from our captured prisoner through your mindmeld?"

"Alarming." She replied, "They legitimately do not know the existence of Mass Relays prior to their discovery of the Thal-Unknown Relay."

"The Thal-Unknown Relay?" He arched his eyebrows.

"Unless you prefer to continue calling it 'recently discovered Mass Relay', it's a perfectly acceptable placeholder for a name."

Sivyndas didn't doubt Issaria's ability to mindmeld. He didn't have such abilities and had no position to judge what he can't experience.

"So, history repeats once more. Humans come across a Relay, ignorant of its true purpose. They activate the device out of curiosity and eventually land themselves in an uneasy situation of continuous unrest between us as them."

Issaria only nodded, noting the odd coincidence between this and the first contact war.

"When I reached into his mind, the most of my visions I saw were composed of nothing but fighting. Their war, I have discovered, lasted there for several generations of humans. It existed here for several hundred years, more than quarter of our life expectancy."

Sivyndas slowly sat down as he gathered his thoughts.

"I recently speculated that a war this massive couldn't have started precisely overnight. I didn't realize that this war has persisted for that long," he pondered, "But who are they fighting against to allow at this scale? Surely the batarian slavers or those ruthless mercenaries haven't come across them before us."

She shook her head in disagreement.

"From what I've seen, there are no more than three groups of humans that currently inhabit this moon. Predictably, they all hate each other."

"And I'm assuming one of them is this so called Terran Republic."

"Yes," Issaria agreed, prodding around her omnitool until a familiar red triangular symbol appeared, "And the others, whom we have yet to encounter. Even with a successful mindmeld with the human, I still do not have proper knowledge about the other two groups. The one I have melded with is afflicted solely with this Republic and the only information I can acquire from their rivaling factions was from prolonged exposure to their government's biased propaganda machine and limited captured intel from their enemies."

"Explain to me as much as you possibly could, from the visions you have gather from." Sivyndas leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

"Very well," she quickly scanned through her notes, "This Terran Republic was formed together after this Great War that supposedly occurred on Earth centuries in the future."

"Time travelers then." Sivyndas lightly chucked. Issaria only rolled her eyes at his response.

"That info was retrieved from the prisoner's education session when he was a child."

"I apologize for my interruption. Please continue."

"They are extremely conservative, as you can see from their weapons and armor."

Sivyndas nodded, following her words.

"Their opposition embellishes their armor and vehicles in blue and yellow; they call themselves the New Conglomerate. I believe they are a band of corporations who opposes the Terran Republic's policy. Of what they oppose, I lack details. They are armed with similar ordinances of gunpowder weapons as they but these are integrated with magnetic coils, to accelerate the speed of the bullet at cost of fire rate."

"A much more primitive form of our mass accelerated weapons." The Admiral said, "And the final group?"

"They adore the colors of purple and cyan. Vanu Sovereignty if I recall."

Sivyndas sat straight up having heard the name.

"Vanu, vanu, I have heard that name before but where?" He tried to recall the name being first mentioned to him, "The prisoner! He accused me of being one, though I have no clue what the name means or signifies."

"Vanu is a name given to a long extinct species, possibly protheans. Their technology was excavated from the moon's surface and was integrated some aspects of their tech into their own."

"This Vanu Sovereignty are technology worshippers; these vanu technology to be more specific."

"We use prothean technology and merged it into our daily lives, but you don't see us being constantly awestruck by it or having to build a holy shrine," the Admiral joked to himself, "So a 'vanu' is just another name of how they call the protheans. However, why would they mistake us for protheans?"

"Because these secluded people, who reside in this system, have never known what a turian is, or any Citadel species for that matter."

"There, another coincidence between then and now." He gravely spoke, "Besides being technology worshippers, what other details can you draw from."

"Quite unbelievable actually, they possess laser and plasma weaponry."

"Lasers? Plasma? You're telling me they figured out how to create hand-held light-focused weapons where millions of salarian scientists struggled to assemble one, let alone a working prototype?"

"They didn't create them from scratch. These weapons have been reverse-engineered, at least from what I can speculate. It's clear that whatever technology that was unearthed on that moon gave them a leap in certain fields of technology. However, what fascinated me more than lasers was the fact that they possess resurrection technology."

"Resurrection? Truly?" Sivyndas widened his eyes. He loathed the feeling of becoming skeptical of her words. His thoughts of about Tildven's actions were subdued, now filled with the mind-boggling realization over what she had just said.

"Yes. During our mindmeld, it was very clear that our prisoner has died multiple times during the duration of their prolonged war."

"Died several times?" He questioned, a tone of uncertainty in his voice, "Are you sure you didn't misinterpret his susceptible frequent unconsciousness as death?"

Issaria felt mildly offended for Sivyndas to insult her ability to mindmeld, but she eventually let it slide, "I know what I said and saw. He died from a nearby explosion; miraculously resurrected from the dead and into a room of advanced tubes. Shots to the face and heart; miraculously resurrected from the dead. Lethal fall; resurrected. Driven over by an armored vehicle; resurrected. Every vision of his rebirth from death makes no sense, driving me utterly mad to no end."

"There has to be some kind of a logical explanation for all of this. He couldn't have just returned into the living every time he died."

"Not just him. Everyone who came from this moon possessed the same resurrection phenomenon. I saw his friends die on their battlefield, only then to be brought back to life not a minute later. They were all healthy and able, as if their previous death never even existed."

"And their rivaling factions?"

"Just the same. It is the main reason why their firefights take an absurd amount of time to finish."

"Their ship we boarded previously showed no such evidence of this resurrection. Some of them have died and so far, none we saw got resurrected."

"I wouldn't know the answer to that."

Sivyndas sighed in frustration.

"If the protheans had resurrection technology, our archeologists would have found plenty of evidence from their ruins, particularly on the Citadel."

Issaria pondered a different theory, "Or perhaps this technology could be a secretive project hidden from public view, being experimented with at the far outer rim of the galaxy where no one could ever bother them."

"We don't even know if this technology even originated from the protheans in the first place!"

"Look," Issaria spoke flatly, "We can't just sit here and pointlessly bicker over this supposed connection between these vanu and protheans when we both lack evidence to suggest for or otherwise."

"We can't just barge into their warzone and ask politely. Tildven already made the brightest idea to destroy their only fleet; no doubt hating our very presence here. We could have diffused this situation with peaceful talks."

"What is done is done. We do not have the power to change the past."

Sivyndas only groaned in irritation.

"If we stop now, they will surely retaliate against us," he rubbed his temples, "How am I supposed to command the fleet when one half sides with Tildven while the other begins to doubt my abilities to command? I need you to return to your ship so I can quietly dwell in our newly discovered information."

Issaria gently bowed her head before leaving his quarters. Sivyndas sat alone in his room as the elevator door closed.

Herald Cooper felt dazed, slowly climbing out of the escape pod. Several more of them landed not far off, no doubt experiencing the same state of dizziness as he was. Hundreds of medical and government vehicles surrounded their area of landing like moths to a lamp. He gently coughed clear his throat at the moment a dust cloud breezed against his face. Clearing his eyes, he gazed at the hive of activity before him. He hasn't seen that many civilians clumped together since he attended hist first annual speech from the government. Cooper suddenly saw an influx of people moving aside to form a clear road to him. A sunderer in the distance drove in the direction of his escape pod. The vehicle rolled up near him to his right, proudly bearing the symbol of the Terran Republic. Cooper dusted off his uniform for representation just as the passenger door opened, revealing a short, stout man in a uniform similar to the one worn by the now-former Admiral. He boasted heavy features on his face, now wrinkled with age.

"Admiral Herald Cooper?" He spoke, holding his peaked cap between his arms.

Cooper gave the proper salute to a higher ranking officer, "Yes, I am."

"You are uninjured and in healthy walking condition. Come with me inside the vehicle. They would like a word with you."

I guess the government is too big of a word for him. Cooper thought, noticing his heavy emphasis for 'they'. He didn't exactly look forward to reporting his failure to them.

"I will follow." He humbly replied.

Two figures quarreled loudly in the dimly lit room.

"Tildven, with their utilization of resurrection technology, our forces wouldn't stand a chance against them!"

"If what you say is true, then our forces would face no problems. Out here in the vast emptiness of outer space, death is permanent. Death on this particular moon would be but a slap on the wrist. Our forces could just be brought back from the dead just as easily as they!"

"And with what facts did it make you to draw into that conclusion?"

"Facts? The ship we have boarded contains the very same humans that originated from this moon. We have scoured their spacecraft for any surviving humans and the ones that were dead never came back to life. If what Issaria said is true, then this resurrection would apply only to those walking on the surface.

"Think of the implications of this resurrection technology we could gain! With this, the Hierarchy will become the dominating military force in the galaxy for the next millennia!"

"And if they don't work?"

"Even if ours cannot, our superior weapons and technology far exceeds their primitive capability for battle. Within a few short hours, this planet will soon be rid of these scumbags."

"Your bloodlust is a growing concern among the soldiers here."

"Bloodlust," he dismissed that with a casual wave, "I think you've gotten way to soft. You once commanded a fleet with strength and confidence, but those days are over. You've grown too incompetent as a leader. It's a wonder why people follow you at all! I was assigned to your command and yet eighty percent of all this fleet prefers to follow under my command voice rather than yours. You are nothing but an informer, a device to introduce information to fill our ears, so that we, the more able ones, are ready to act upon it."

Sivyndas tightly clenched his teeth, holding back his growing temper.

"These bands of humans have planted the seeds of their own destruction the moment they activated that dormant Relay. It's only a matter of time before somebody goes in to fulfill their inevitable fate."

"If we just stand here and watch until they retaliate," Tildven continued his tirade, "The councilors will know of our failure to uphold the law. What will the consequences be then? My earlier insubordination would pale against such an event where they will strike back. And do you really think they would be accepting of another 'strange coincidence' excuse between this and the Relay 314 Incident? For all we know, the humans we have captured were brainwashed by their local government into believing that they really are stranded in deep space, that they have no prior contacts with any other species."

"There is undeniable proof between the collaboration of this Terran Republic and the Alliance, and I will heave over every single stone on this moon until I find them."

"You will order to prepare the ground troops for battle."

Hundreds of turian dropships left their hanger bays and soared towards the chaotic moon. One small squadron of fighters flew around to shoot down any satellites that came across their sights. The remaining forces were divided evenly as possible to be deployed on every continent. They glowed brightly with unimaginable heat as friction from the air rubbed against the belly of their spacecraft. As they slowly descended to the surface, only did they realize the full scope of this war. Enemy aircraft fighters filled the skies with bullets, explosions, and the smoking trail of debris, but that did nothing to deter the turian dropships.

Caught unaware, the human aircrafts were swatted out of the sky by A-61 Mantis Gunships. Their element of surprise did not last for long. Enemy forces were immediately alerted by the presence of a new enemy. Mosquito fighters, flying by nearly two dozen, unleashed its hail of missiles towards the sudden presence of alien invaders. Ten turian gunships erupted into heated flames, sending their ruined hulls careening uncontrollably to the desert ground and leaving behind a charred crater of reckage. The turians realized their underestimating and quickly broke off to disallow easier target acquisition of them. They made a quick distraction, so that the bigger dropships, containing hundreds of soldiers and several dozen tanks, can swoop down and land in safety.

Fifty Prowler tanks rolled up to the edge of the cliff before initiating anchor mode. Their drive sprockets extended out and dug into the ground to keep the vehicles in place. During lockdown mode, energy to the engine block ceases; instead, diverts them into weapon cycling and barrel cooling, effectively increasing its fire rate and reload speed by a considerable amount. One hundred cannons roared continuously with the sound of heavy thunder, spitting a massive hail of high explosive shells. Their twin barrels kicked up a flurry of dust behind them as they rained down above the heads of these foreign aliens. Several sunderers were strategically parked behind the armor column, supplying them with repairs and ammunition. Sunderers outfitted with Advanced Mobile Stations served as a readily deployable spawn point for recently deceased soldiers to enter the heat of battle.

Sergeant Herman Williams, soldier of the 9th Brigade of the Terran Republic 24th Division, wiped his red, bug eyed goggles free of grit, trying to line up his sights from his T9 CARV on those alien birdmen. His weapon spat a hail of bullets on one of them. His shields never registered for his bullets. His armor fared no better as heavy bullet punctured clean through the metal plates. The alien crumpled to the ground as one round went through his neck, a gush of blue blood sprayed out like a water fountain. Another salvo thundered from the Prowlers main cannons as Herman ducked down to reload his gun. Looking to his left, he saw another heavy peaking over the edge to fire, only to duck down again when his Nanite shield instantly dissipated from a single shot of those alien weapons. A medic ahead of him went down in two shots, punching clean through his nanoweave armor and straight through his internal organs. Herman winced as his body hit the ground hard before deconstructing under a haze of sickly green. These vanu aliens appeared out of nowhere and already they took over half their territory away. They were too busy giving those Conglomerate rebels hell to notice who was killing who until it was too late.

"Let's get those rockets flying!" Somebody shouted from behind.

On cue, Herman felt several pounding footsteps behind him. Several MAXes, Mechanized Assault Exo-Suit, equipped with MR-1 Fractures on both of their massive arms, dug in place by stomping their feet into the arid ground and unleashed a hail of rockets below. They were designed for anti-armor, but worked well enough to combat infantry units at long ranges. Chainguns at this extreme distance were hopelessly inaccurate, no matter how many bullets you fired. A swell of adrenaline and pride filled Herman with enthusiasm as he watched them standing over the edge as a proud display of Terran might. One explosive shell sent by the roaring guns of their Prowlers was managed to penetrate through the walls of a building before detonating inside.

Realizing that his weapon was empty, Herman reached down to his belt to grab another magazine, but his hands felt nothing but dusty air. Loathing at his own ability for not keeping his ammunition in proper check, Herman activated his built-in speaker merged inside his composite mask.

"I need ammo over here! I'm dry!" His synthesized muffled voice shouted among the chaos. A nearby engineer acted on command as he tossed a Nanite ammo pack to him feet. The satisfying sounds of resupplying ammunition were like music to his ears. Several magazines materialized on his personnel, allowing Herman to insert a brand new magazine into his weapon encrusted with dirt. Satisfied, he pulled the side lever to chamber a new round into the barrel.

"Thanks," he said, but the engineer didn't hear him, running to repair a nearby damaged prowler, its engines pouring opaque black smoke from sustained damage. More alien gunfire erupted below, taking down a few Terran soldiers on the cliff. They returned in kind, shooting away a dozen soldiers who were foolish enough to be exposed from cover. At the corner of his eye, he saw the same medic being reconstructed by a green grid. He was gunned down a few short moments ago, only to reappear back into the land of the living, all alive and well. With his medical applicator on hand, he quickly huddled back to action to provide onsite healing and resurrection.

"Medic! Where's the combat medic?" A heavy assault trooper yelled. He held his hands over a small puncture hole lased with blood. His wore the standard composite armor with a symbol of a skull painted on both his shoulder guards.

Herman scanned around for the medic he just saw before, but that medic simply disappeared. He was nowhere in sight. Realizing his situation, Herman took off to a nearby sunderer to switch class and equipment. With a quick dabble of the red interface, a wash of green temporarily enveloped him before his very appearance changed from wearing a massive bulky armor to lighter version. Snatching the medical applicator from his utility belt as he ran, he sprinted towards the injured heavy, now in critical condition.

"Hold still." he pulled his assault rifle behind his back and aimed the medical applicator at his grave injury. It emitted a beam of glowing green energy; the soldier's wound seemingly disappeared under its light, as if he was never injured in the first place. The soldier's blood evaporated and his damaged armor was simultaneously repaired. With a nod of thanks, the heavy ran back towards the front lines. With his chaingun equipped, he sprinted quickly down the hill and took cover behind a large boulder. Enemy fire chipped away at his cover, but the rock was simply too large to be destroyed.

From their vantage point high above the invaders, the 9th Brigade had tremendous success in fending off the majority of the alien ground forces. The guns of their prowlers still pounded the ground below with their deadly explosive shells. Fighting against them, Herman observed, was somewhat peculiar. In most firefights he has been in for most of his battle-hardened life, vying over the control of the point usually lasted for no more than two hours. What contributes this factor is the result of Nanites System rebirthing and reconstruction technology. Until their infiltrators can successfully hack their terminals to deny them their vehicles, fighting still took ages. However, this battle against the vanu invaders went on for no less than thirty minutes and already the alien's numbers began to dwindle greatly. Herman half expected them to materialize again from Nanite rebirthing chambers, ready to fight again, but none of them came out. Isn't this their technology? Why aren't they using their own advanced creations?

"Attention all platoon units, keep up the fire on Quartz Ridge. Friendly galaxies are approaching your positions," static filled his ears before returning to normal, "They will be dropping behind enemy lines. Diver-," multiple explosions can be heard behind the radio, several agonizing screams echoed, "-re taking fire. We are taking heavy fire from enemy aircraft. I need delta and bravo at the warpgate now-" The communications went static. Herman felt a chill down his spine.

Several alien gunships hovered above Herman's position and destroyed several more prowler tanks. The MAXs managed to take down one, but the rockets were simply too slow to combat swift aerial units. Herman kicked up dirt as he ran for the nearest cover he could find. A few of his squad mates and the heavy he rescued before followed suit. Up ahead was a fairly large boulder inclined diagonally. They dived behind the massive rock as the invaders began to unleash their weapons. Several prowlers evaporated into a ball of flame, sending chunks of scorched metal arcing midair and landing atop of allies unfortunate enough to be nearby.

"Where's our damn skyguards?" An engineer yelled behind his composite mask. He shoved a new magazine into the stock of his NS-7. He twisted the dial on the side of his weapon to chamber in a new cartridge. He instinctively hunched down as alien bullets continue to chip away their cover.

"We lost them, Geoff. Those damn vanu bastards destroyed them all before they could even get a chance to get single shot out." A heavy snarled, trying to dust off his chaingun.

"They don't look like VS scythes to me. Look a little closer, Henry." Herman spoke, narrowing his eyes at one of those alien aircrafts. One flew directly over their head; its pilot completely unaware of several Terran soldiers hiding just below.

"Whoever they are, they shot us down," Henry retorted, "We'll return the favor," loading his striker, prepped and ready to fire.

The hunkered group heard the booming sounds of several explosions nearby. Flaming debris of prowlers and sunderers were hurled over their heads and smashed straight into the ground.

"They're pushing us back! We lost all AMS sunderers!"

"Keep fighting! Don't let up!"

Without those advanced mobile stations, allies were unable to deploy near the heat of battle.

"Platoon waypoint is actual. All units fall back to Hvar Tech Plant. I repeat, all units redeploy to Hvar Tech Plant. All surviving units retreat. Enemy aliens and New Conglomerate forces are coagulating to the north."

"Damn!" Geoff cursed before pointing at Herman, "Get the beacons out now! We might be able to fend them off a little longer!"

Herman patted around his utility belt before gripping around the beacon with his hand. He held down a button on the side before extending its long white tube outward. Usually, a light would be emitted from the end to signify its successful connection with orbital spawn from above. The light emitter was muted; just like Herman's goal for keeping the front lines operational. He tapped, knocked, and banged in hopes that it will turn on, but nothing worked.

"Why isn't my goddamn beacon working?" Herman yelled over the chaos, recklessly pushing in and pulling out the tube of the beacon, "Is it broken?"

The radio, apparently listening to his every word, answered for him.

"Negative, squad leader charlie. You're not the only ones with problems getting this shit functioning. Turns out, the orbital spawn stations were offline for hours. Those things blew them up from straight from orbit. As of now, the beacons are nothing but glorified batons. Right now we need everybody at the tech plant if we're going to fight off these assholes."

"Great." He spoke under his breath, before forcefully throwing the beacon against the cave wall. It bounced away harmlessly, nicking the wall instead.

"No way to get our downed troops closer here."

"Then we'll die in a blaze of glory, pop back into the living, and do it all over again."

"I rather retreat to safety than to be riddled with bullets in excruciating pain every time I want to go somewhere."

They immediately ceased their chatter as they all heard the approaching footsteps of alien foot soldiers, barking out orders in their strange language. Henry was quick to react, dropping his Striker to the ground to get his chaingun slung across his back. He lined up his laser sight and let loose a wall of lead at their position. Bypassing its shields, the chaingun's absurd fire rate completely tore apart the bird alien to bits; his bloodied torso now garnished with the holes from the bullets of his gun. The heavy soldier finished off the alien's accomplice with another simple pull of the trigger. Geoff threw down a pack of replenishable ammunition when a hidden alien appeared from behind and jabbed his knife into his back.

Herman was about to fire his weapon at him, until another birdman tackled him from above, knocking his gun away. His weapon clattered against the dry ground and tumbled down the face of the hill, much his dismay. Henry finished off Geoff's killer and turned to aim his weapon at the alien on top of Herman, only to click uselessly. The alien struggled to shoot as Herman tried to wrestle its gun away from his face. Herman attempted to pull out his chain blade from its metal sheath but to absolutely no avail. He watched in horror as the alien pulled out a smaller weapon from his back, a pistol, and took aim at Herman's head. Herman slammed his eyes shut as he prepared for the worst. The shot didn't happen. Henry took his chaingun and slammed right into the alien's face. It rolled of off Herman as it clutched its head, shrieking in agony. The heavy withdrew his repeater from his holster to finish off his suffering. Realizing that they were already falling behind from the 9th brigade tactical retreat, they took off up the plateau. They ran in a zigzag pattern and ducked under every rock, boulder, and tree in an attempt to throw off the aliens' aim.

A human donning a large white backpack went down with no difficulty. Pardis Artum reeled back behind the wall as soon as he saw their vehicles back at a ludicrous rate. He forcefully pushed out a used thermal clip. Still radiating with searing heat, it clattered around and left scorching impressions on the metal floor. Pardis reached for his pouch to retrieve another one when he heard the screaming high-pitched whistle of an approaching enemy shell. He and several others braced for its impact, slamming their bodies against the floor. The building they hid shook violently from the eruptive impacts of the enemy high explosives. Bits of shrapnel still penetrated through parts of the walls, severely injuring anybody who stood near them. With that ordeal over, one soldier peeked out to take a shot when a stray bullet slammed into his chest. His torso was thrown back, heaving thorough his damaged armor.

"My shields are malfunctioning!" He yelled and scrambled back behind the safety of the wall.

"Is it their weapons?" Pardis asked.

"Our shields worked fine against them during our boarding mission. There's absolutely no reason for all our shields to suddenly stop working now." Another spouted. They all ducked as red tracers shot away the window. Pardis brushed off broken shards of glass from his shoulders before pulling out his pistol.

"No EMPs were detonated here since our weapons still function. Something is very wrong here."

Pardis sighed, somewhat reluctant to preform this act. He pulled his sidearm out from his holster.

"Alright. Hold still."

"Wha-"

Pardis aimed for his lower foot and pulled the trigger without further hesitation. A blue wall formed and blocked his shot.

"Look. Our shields work perfectly fine."

"You shot at me!" He shouted at him.

"I aimed for your foot. My shot never harmed you. And your shield deflected it. Now stop complaining and fight!"

No matter what they did, no matter how much they shot and killed, the enemy never seemed to dwindle. In fact, he noticed that they seem to be getting larger in numbers.

Why aren't their shields working at this time? His head pounded as he tried to reach for an answer, ramming in a new thermal clip into his rifle. Another explosion rocked the building, bits of scrap metal bounced around the interior. A piece the size of his rifle grip ricocheted off his armor. It was with that, his mind clicked together. It suddenly dawned on him why their shields weren't functioning here. These humans fire rounds slower than their mass accelerated counterparts. They're far enough away for their bullets' velocity to drop just below the minimum speed level for their shields to activate. During the boarding of their ship, their shields worked because they were in close-range, facing against their weapon's initial muzzle velocity. Lower velocity means their weapons are a little less lethal at this range, although anyone could still die from one stray bullet to the neck or head. Their forces were already down to half their capability, while they seem to conjure up their own soldiers from thin air.

"Down!"

One shell managed to fly into the gap of the windows. It smashed into the far back wall before exploding. Those who were caught in the blast were given a quick and merciful death. Pardis slumped against the ground, struggling to hold his stomach together.

More bullets flew overhead, but this time, they came from the opposite direction. Turning around, he saw more humans flanking them. But these weren't the same ones they were fighting before. They wore bulky, box-like armor, colored with the hues of blue and yellow, unlike the slightly more slim-lined red and grey of the other faction. He then noticed a shrub a few meters ahead of him through the window being unusually warped. Trusting his gut instincts, he aimed his assault rifle towards the direction of the lone shrub. A blue and black figure abruptly materialized from thin air and-

BLAM

The shot narrowly missed him, grazing his left cheek plate and leaving behind a deep bloody gash. His shields worked this time, but it vanished as soon as it appeared due to the bullet's devastatingly raw power. Pardis stared wide in disbelief before quickly overcoming his shock, aiming his rifle once more and riddling shooter with mass accelerated grains of metal.

"Spirits, they have invisibility cloaks." He caught himself saying.

In the distance, their massive tracked armored vehicles, armed with a single large barrel instead of two mounted at the sides, rolled in by more than a dozen. Jiris IFVs and ML-77 Missile Launchers fired upon them, but most of its damage was absorbed from these vehicles' uncanny ability to absorb them by a bright glowing shield, apparently summoned at will. Four of their tracked vehicles went down in a display of bright flames. The remaining dozen paused in their tracks to fire back. Their shells were deadly, one of their own hovercrafts exploded after sustaining five shots to the front. The turians fired more missiles at them, but that did nothing to curb the tide. They were explosives, manufactured to detonate on impact. What they fired were rigid shells, designed specifically to engage with enemy armor. Both sides lost an equal amount of vehicles.

Four Mantis gunships soared through the air and over the cliff to attack where the armor column resides. Whatever damage the gunships did behind the lines, they were beginning to withdraw from the cliff. With the other faction pushing hard against their rear, they had no choice but to move forward. The body of the human sniper he killed moments ago was nowhere to be seen. Only a pile of green mist remained where he once lay. Pardis had no time to wonder where the body went, quickly following everybody else away from the advancing blue troops.

Ten C77 Tyrus rolled up to the facility that sat on the base of the cliff while their IFVs provided covering fire for the advancing turian soldiers.

"We need to get closer to the enemy!"

His heart sank as he saw the massive road leading up to the plateau, flanked on both sides by massive inescapable cliffs. A death trap. Looking over his shoulders, Pardis saw the advancing hoard of enemy soldier and tanks.

I hope the other battalions fared with better success on the other continents.

Herman panted laboriously through his composite mask as he climbed above the last mound of dirt to the metal walls surrounding the tech plant. Henry followed closely behind. Lugging around with the amount of armor they have, it surprised Herman for them to be moving this fast uphill. It requires a tremendous amount of effort for anyone to walk around with 420 pounds of heavy gear and weapons on one's back. Geoff should already be ahead of them, stepping out of a tube in his brand new constructed body.

"Are they really that stupid to climb up this road? It's a death trap, an easy choke point. We can practically shoot rockets right on top of them!" Herman listened to a loud-voiced individual not far off.

"Looks like they're getting a little cocky," Someone piped up, setting up an anti vehicle turret on the ledge, "I love shooting down smug assholes."

The same synthesized female voice announced the battle's progression through their helmets.

"Attention. The New Conglomerate has captured Indar Excavation site." Another phase nearly caught nearly everybody by surprise, "Attention. [insert name here] has captured Quartz Ridge."

"Those terrorists are leading those aliens up the road, right into our trap!" Another smirked, "At least, they're helping us sandwiching them in. Involuntarily."

"Where are my goddamn Prowlers? Get your head out of your asses and set them up for ambush ASAP!"

More soldiers began to pour out of the deployment building; the once dead troops seemingly resurrected back to full health. Some made their way to a nearby vehicle terminal. The vehicle pad flared green with life as it began to construct multiple prowler tanks. In a few short moments, well over fifty Prowlers appeared out of the bloom to the uninformed, their engines growling with power as they rolled out of the southeast gate leading to the tech plant. The previously lost skyguards began to roll out as well; its four barreled 40 mm flak cannons had the terrifying capability of shredding any enemy aircraft with an explosive cloud of lethal shrapnel. Side by side, they began to anchor up along the end of the road and waited for the alien's arrival. What the birdmen have lost, they cannot replenish. The soldiers of the Terran Republic can simply be reborn again with the aid of Nanite technology.

"Did somebody order a fresh batch of hellfire missiles?" The comms gleefully blared out.

Twenty four Mosquitoes hovered over the worn tech plant and soared above the cheering crowd of Terran soldiers. With alien infantry and vehicles packed together like a stuffed olive, they made easy targets for the air force to fire at. The alien gunships flew in to defend their troops caught in their ambush, but the skyguards' flak cannons halted their efforts. In unison, the mosquitoes unleashed a hurricane of air-to-ground missiles, absolutely decimating anything in its blast radius. In a few short seconds, they've annihilated the majority of alien ground troopers. A few survivors were left, but those can be captured. They raised their hand above their heads as a gesture of surrender.

"Now, that is what we call tactical superiority."

"Eat shit!"

Monroe fired his Sweeper at pointblank range, sending the birdman careening backwards and splattered the wall behind it with sticky dark blue liquid. He wiped his visor clear as he looked to see his squad making quick work of the remaining aliens in the building.

"I think we got them all."

One squadmate reloaded his Stiletto, shoving in each individual birdshot shells. They were exceedingly devastating at point blank range, but lacked power and accuracy over medium to long ranges.

"Hell yeah, that'll teach those sons a bitches," he spat on one of the alien corpses, "You don't fuck with the NC and get away with it."

"Hah, let's see how they like it when I jam my Jackhammer up their asses."

Monroe said nothing, walking over to pick up a dropped alien weapon from the ground. It looked almost identical to weapons carried by the Vanu Sovereignty. Only this alien rifle was more matte grayish in color, unlike the shiny cyan and purple the creepy cultists seem to adore. Deciding that this would sell for a hefty price, he packed the strange gun in his backpack.

They stepped out of the building wrapped in glimmering snow. More of these vanu alien fighters appeared overhead, battling their Reavers in fast paced aerial combat. Missiles flew every which way while ones closer to the invaders let loose their deadly M-30 Mustangs. The larger alien aircraft hovered above the ground before landing. More alien soldiers climbed out as well as retrieving several hovercraft tanks of their own.

"We're not done yet." Monroe said, pumping his Sweeper, "Their invasion just got started."

Conflict arose from the surface as the remnants of the Republic struggled to maintain order among their colonies. The Nanite technology, once thought of as revolutionary, threw an imbalance of power between the disgruntled colonists and the Republic. As a result, they have restricted all forms of alien technology from their domain. The sudden draconian enforcement was not taken lightly. Soon, a splinter faction was formed under the title of the "New Conglomerate", a group who seeks to restore freedom and rip themselves the shackles of tyranny that is the Terran Republic. Such concepts of freedom were given by large corporate monopolies and mercenaries who seek the almighty profit over the lives of others. A second faction soon formed, after the Terran Republic's restrictions of alien technology. They call themselves the "Vanu Sovereignty". They believed that these new technology will further the evolution of the Human species. War broke out among the three factions, vying over the complete control of Auraxis.

Author's notes: jk;afdskl;jdafsklj;dafsl;kj