Emancipation and Exodus

[spanishspy]

Jun 5, 2016 19:57:15 GMT lordroel said:

Jun 5, 2016 19:44:44 GMT spanishspy said:

I wouldn't be surprised if there are the beginnings of space colonies by the end of the century.

By China and India most likely.

Them and the US, and I think the EU is also quite likely. Neither of those is undergoing an absolute decline, unlike Russia.

[spanishspy]

Situation report, Colonel David Silverstone, Sector 4 Free Colonial Alliance Expeditionary Force, Tyre, to Transnational Defense Coalition Joint Defense Force Central Command, Breckenridge’s World by Blackjack555


June 5, 2597


AEF made landfall two days ago on Tyre and per our instructions we have secured the main spaceports at Landing City and Foreston. Situation on the ground is currently far more hostile than intelligence reports suggested, but with planned reinforcements we can retain our position and begin supply shipments on schedule. However, given rate of situation evolution, intelligence was likely accurate at time of pre-departure briefing.


Initial landing was unopposed, what local forces remain were aware that we were not AIC reinforcements but did not object to our arrival. It quickly became apparent that most of the local population has succumbed to the pandemic, to a far greater degree than was expected. The plague has… please forgive the informality of the rest of this report, I just can’t keep it up anymore.


The plague seems to have transformed the locals somehow. We’re not sure what’s going on here. People who get infected and die don’t stay dead, they get back up and start attacking the healthy ones. They don’t communicate, they don’t recognize friends or loved ones, and they’re inhumanly strong, and they don’t seem to feel fear or pain. Foreston has a major naval hospital complex near the spaceport. When we didn’t get any response to our attempts to communicate with them, a platoon tried to enter the facility. It was like... I don’t even know how to explain it. A tide, a swarm, a horde, they all fit, but they don’t quite adequately explain the sight of an unending stream of things that used to be humans charging out of the shadows, howling like the damned, totally heedless of the torrent of bullets from desperate soldiers trying to hold them back. Nor does it cover the sounds through the communications network as a legion of… whatever they are now, it sure as hell isn’t human, rip, tear, and bite their way into a whole platoon of soldiers at once. It’s a wet, ripping, popping sound, punctuated by the occasional agonized, terrified scream of someone who isn’t quite dead yet and the crunch of teeth hitting bone. I’ve lost two platoons to those horrible things, one at the hospital and another when a swarm of them showed up at our base at Landing City. Some civilians from in town arrived at our base, thinking we were an AIC force sent to evacuate them, and begged to let them in. We couldn’t just leave them to be eaten. A few hours later, I swear four or five thousand of the creatures showed up and started forcing the gates open.


That was the first time I saw them for myself. 2nd Platoon, 4th Company was on rotation holding the city gates. They reported the contact, but didn’t immediately start shooting because they thought it was some kind of protest march or something like that. Then the things got close, and some of them from within the horde started sprinting and leapt over the barriers. The men in the guard shacks along the main road in didn’t even have time to open fire before they were brought down and consumed. The ones in the guard towers opened up with heavy machine guns after that, and by the time I arrived at the gate with the rest of 4th Company, it was complete chaos. Most of the guard platoon was dead or beyond saving. The few survivors had barricaded themselves in whatever strong points they could find and were fighting desperately to hold on. One of the guard towers had been swarmed at some point and collapsed under the weight, crushing the gate and part of the fence, and the things were swarming in.


One moment sticks in my mind from the hours of unrelenting horror and desperate close-quarters fighting that followed. 4th Company’s chaplain is an Asgard native, a massive fellow who was raised in the ancient religious traditions some of that nation still follow. He’s non-denominational now as regulations demand and I have never met anyone who did not feel comfortable talking to him, but he got a religious exemption to wear a long braided beard, and he kept his custom armor and weapon from when he was a military priest in Asgard. This is to give you some context for what happened next. He and the civilians, and some of the surviving guards, had holed up in the chapel, a minor administrative building for the port that we appropriated for the purpose. When my men and I arrived, he came out of the chapel in full Asgard warrior-priest power armor, a towering suit modeled after ancient Earth Viking battle armor but with total coverage, and carrying a massive powered hammer in one hand and a slightly modified machine pistol in the other, bellowing “Back to Niflheim, vile minions of Hel!” When I asked him later, he said that while he had sworn never to kill another human except to protect his own life or that of another, these creatures were not human any longer. I cannot help but agree, and strongly recommend he be given the Silver Star of Valor for his actions, which rallied the survivors of 2nd platoon and the scattered others trapped by the horde and helped us drive the things back until we could contain them at the breaches in the wall.


Close air and artillery support arrived shortly after I reached the gate, and after several hours we were able to exterminate the creatures and seal the breaches in the wall. As a precaution, I have now ordered the engineers to level the buildings within two hundred meters of our perimeter, as the standard twenty meter offset is insufficient against this threat. One of the engineers had the idea, which I approved, to use the rubble from the buildings to create a field of broken ground across the last fifty meters to the wall, leaving only the road clear and laying anti-personnel mines throughout the broken ground. This should slow and weaken the next attack, while funneling the more intelligent of the creatures into a narrow corridor where we can more easily gun them down. Normally, I know protocol forbids that much mass destruction of civilian property, but in this case it is the only way to secure our perimeter and reconnaissance patrols and airborne sweeps confirm that the owners of the destroyed property are dead.


By day four of our arrival, elements of 3rd and 5th Companies secured and fortified the surviving mission targets. The unprocessed ore and base material warehouses, starship component storage and repair supply depot, and AIC logistics base at Landing City, and the consumer goods and electronic components warehouses at Foreston, are now under our control. The AIC munitions depot and medical supply stockpiles at Foreston are currently contested territory. Our intelligence section believes that during the initial outbreak, rioters forced their way into the naval hospital after the port commanders ordered access restricted to their own personnel. The breaches were not repaired before the swarm arrived, and the problem is compounded by the network of underground transit tunnels that run beneath the cities of this planet. While the security on the tram station for the naval hospital was more than sufficient to keep out trespassers, it was not designed to hold back a swarm of screaming, starving, inhumanly strong mutants, and so the infected breached the tunnel entrance and swarmed up from below. 3rd Company’s attached engineering unit has found and sealed several entrances to the tunnel network from the surface, but we have so far been unable to reach the tunnel itself due to the tremendous volume of infected down there.


The fuel supply depot at Fort Alexander was destroyed long before we arrived. From sparse survivor accounts, it seems that infected from the tunnel network swarmed the depot from several points at once, and the facility exploded soon after. Our engineers believe that several critical pressure regulation valves became damaged and pipes became locked open. Gunfire most likely sparked a fuel vapor explosion, which then spread along pipes that were no longer able to seal against the flames due to the damaged valves. The subsequent explosion destroyed the fuel tanks, the depot itself, and most of the structures within three kilometers, and may have compromised the integrity of the Fort Alexander orbital elevator. It also collapsed several points along the underground tram network, through which infected continue to enter the tunnels. The JDFS Catalina launched several kinetic strikes in order to thoroughly collapse and block some of these entrances, which has somewhat reduced the flow of infected into the tunnel system.


Five days after our arrival, a force from the Calderis Pact made landfall on the plains east of Landing City, ninety kilometers from the outskirts of the city. They have so far avoided contact with our force as much as possible, conducting reconnaissance and salvage operations in the suburban zones of Landing and Foreston and deploying additional forces from orbit to systematically clear the city of Halesburg, a major manufacturing center. Our intelligence analysts report that the pattern of their deployments and the composition of the reinforcements they have so far landed suggest they intend to remain here long-term and, further, that they intend to engage us for dominance of the planet in the near future. This second conclusion is based on the inclusion of heavy armor units, anti-tank weapons, and anti-aircraft and point defense systems, none of which are of any particular use against the infected. An expedition from the Holy Kingdom of the Eternal Trinity and another from the Democratic Republic of Chiss have also arrived, but their forces are deployed on other continents and so are of less concern as yet.


I am therefore requesting immediate and significant reinforcements. If we are to hold Tyre, it will be necessary to improve our defensive position greatly. The geography is such that if we can establish control over the ‘Three Sisters’, a local term for the conjoined urban zones of Landing City, Foreston, and Dale’s Ridge, and their orbital station networks, we will be all but impossible to dislodge by any of the local powers. Two brigades would be likely sufficient, though the Calderis forces are approaching division strength already, and two divisions from the Democratic Republic are in evidence. A naval task group would also be necessary to secure the orbitals in the short term.

[spanishspy]

Covert meeting between SecExtAff Ragnarssen and Paramount Admiral Vukoja, deep space aboard battleship CNS Ernest E. Evans - by Blackjack555


August 19, 2597


(Ragnarssen sits in a large armchair in one of the ship’s briefing rooms. The walls are textured to look like paneled wood with massive viewscreen ‘windows’ on two sides, currently showing the view outside if there were actually windows in the hull. Another similar armchair sits partway around the main central holo-display, the seemingly luxurious cushions hiding deployable restraints and heavy padding in case the ship’s inertial dampeners artificial gravity fail suddenly, as might happen during battle. More chairs and a few couches are placed around the room, enough that a fleet admiral and their staff could use it as a command center. A small bar in the corner has various bottles in holders to keep them from turning into glass shrapnel if the ship has to maneuver abruptly. Two New Jefferson External Intelligence Division operatives in full armor with opaque face shields sit behind Ragnarssen, exchanging casually appraising glances with their Dominion counterparts from Vukoja’s personal guard as they enter the room, their somewhat bulkier armor giving them an almost robotic aspect. It’s an old ritual by now, neither pair showing any sort of tension at the other’s presence. Vukoja himself follows on their heels and sits down at Ragnarssen’s invitation. Katharina Gramatikova follows and sits down on one of the couches, appearing to take a nap as she uses her implant to take care of various messages and administrative issues.)


R: Admiral Vukoja, glad you could join me here today. Scotch? I have a feeling you’ll need a drink or three after you hear the latest news.


V: If anyone else told me that, I would find it hard to believe, but recent events seem to be perpetually getting worse.


R: And will continue to do so for some time. My agents brought me something rather… interesting from a reconnaissance mission to Beckendorf. (He glances at the holo-display and sends it a command to display a file he just sent it, a field report from the stealth light cruiser CNS Pathfinder. It shows an array of pieces of data, traffic reports, sensor returns, after action reports, and collected transmissions.) I will forward the whole file to your assistant for your review, but here is the main issue (he highlights an automated system traffic report from an autonomous nav-beacon.)


V: I am afraid I do not see the significance of this. Wait, when did Beckendorf drop out of contact?


G: Six months ago, Paramount Admiral.


V: So how is there traffic coming up from the surface two months ago?


R: And there you hit the problem. Ships stopped lifting off from Beckendorf shortly before we lost communications with the colonists there. At last contact, near enough to the entire population had succumbed to the Neurophage. However, while on a routine sweep of the Red Zone, Pathfinder detected anomalous transmissions from the navigation beacon. When they moved in to investigate, they found that every ship that had been landed on the planet in working condition had departed, just as the navigation beacon said. Ships that were not in working order, however, were still down, and they found debris fields indicating at least two of the ships that departed suffered critical system failures before they could jump out. At first, our reconnaissance team believed that some of the population somehow recovered and simply evacuated aboard every ship they could get off the ground, but scout drone flights showed that some of the launch sites were far too overrun to have been used by refugees.


V: I have a suspicion I know where this is going, but I am going to wait and hope that I am wrong about what you are about to say.


R: Unfortunately, I suspect you have already guessed what we found. The Pathfinder found a cluster of signatures leaving along an exit vector that only led to one possible destination and checked there. They found three of the missing ships landed on Ybarra, which dropped out of contact just over a month and a half ago. Pathfinder deployed scout drones, then landed a small detachment. Their mission was to retrieve the data cores from the two downed ships. Katharina, I am sending you a full mission log to review and extract what field intelligence you can. You have my word that nothing I have redacted pertains to our present situation; Pathfinder’s scouts employ some sensitive military technologies, which cannot be revealed to anyone at this time, you understand.


G: Of course, Secretary Ragnarssen. We all must have our secrets. (Her VI pings her, informing her of a request to transfer file from the Evans’s AI, Paine, and giving the usual warning about the risks of foreign data files. She orders it to accept, and begins reviewing the mission log. [See next update for the actual mission report.]) Paramount Admiral, this is… disturbing, to say the least. I will have Intel do a full analysis and be ready to brief you when we return to the flagship.


V: Excellent, Gramatikova. You are, as ever, commendably efficient.


G: Thank you, sir.


R: To hit the highlights of what I just sent along, our recon team has found very strong evidence that the neurophage is actually capable of utilizing civilian vessels to move between worlds, independent of refugee carriers. Based on the state of the ships left on Beckendorf and the debris fields in orbit, we believe they are incapable of performing any maintenance tasks, nor can they adapt to malfunctions. From this, we believe they are not actually flying the ships, but rather engaging the automatic piloting and navigation routines programmed into civilian ships.

V: (Sits there silently for a moment, face frozen between shock and disbelief.) My friend, I believe I understand now why you said I would need a drink. So, we cannot quarantine this plague, then. What else can it do? Will it next begin repairing, or even building, warships to fight us, like some entertainment sim race of interstellar horrors?


R: Unfortunately, I fear I do not have the answer to that. Our scientists are attempting to figure out just how far it can actually go in terms of adaptation and learning, but for now we must assume that its capabilities will continue to grow with time.


V: I know you well enough to believe that you and your government already have a plan. How do you intend to stop this, and what assistance will you require?


R: I must be getting predictable in my old age. Yes, we do have a plan, and your assistance will indeed by critical to success. You are aware, I am sure, of the numerous successor states that have arisen in the wake of the receding AIC. Some of them are potentially quite viable, others not so much. While we lack anywhere near the capacity to launch major counteroffensives across the entire Yellow Zone, much less the Red Zone, if we can bolster some of the more competent and cooperative new minor powers, we believe they can give us the necessary forces to halt and turn back the Neurophage. The plan hinges on the trade hub worlds. While some have been totally lost to the plague, or are firmly in the hands of one power or another, the majority are presently free-for-all conflict zones between several successor states.


(He calls up a 3D map of the region on the holo-display. Relatively plague-free systems are highlighted in blue, shading through green to yellow for disputed systems. Orange denotes places that are still hanging on, but only barely. Red systems are lost, with maybe a few survivors here and there. The red areas fade to black getting closer to the first infected worlds, denoting areas where there has been no contact or reconnaissance data for long enough to assume that they are totally lost. The red zone forms a rounded mass around the core of black zone worlds, with the yellow zone a broad swath around that. Outside the yellow zone, blue, green, yellow, and orange are all present, with some colony worlds still blue zone but surrounded by yellow zone planets, and a few orange zone urban worlds deep within what should be safe space. The trade hub worlds are highlighted. Most of them are yellow, some orange, and a few red.)


The current plan is this: New Jefferson will land forces on these worlds (he highlights three trade planets, all yellow or orange) to bolster specific factions fighting for control there. The Dominion, if you will agree to this, will land on these worlds here (he highlights a swath of nine trade planets ranging from green to orange zone) to back your chosen allies. We ask you to cover more worlds because you simply have vastly more soldiers than we do. However, while you will only be holding those worlds and assisting the nations there, we will begin launching deep strike missions into orange and red territory, with the eventual goal of reaching the Black Zone. Their objective will be to gather information on the plague’s capabilities and weaknesses, recover any useful personnel or assets they can find, and if possible destroy any surviving shipping assets that the pathogen could use to spread. With the forces of the now stronger successor nations behind us, we can begin launching a counter-offensive, liberating what worlds we can and sterilizing those we cannot until the plague is eradicated. It is hoped that our researchers can find some means of exterminating the plague without destroying the planet, but if they cannot there is always the option of bombardment with fusion weapons. Drastic, I know, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and I believe you will agree that with this latest development, we are in desperate times indeed.


V: Your plan seems reasonable, and your analysis is sound, much as I wish it were not. Do you have a timetable for launching this operation?


R: We have already begun. Three days from now our first Marine troops will land on Tyre, the first target of our forces, and our scout ships are already deployed. As for your deployment, we leave that up to you, but our analysts believe we have at best three months until the plague covers sufficient territory and has sufficient shipping resources to begin launching concerted attacks and overwhelming both the successor states and our own worlds.


V: Then we will begin deployment preparations as soon as I return to Mannerheim.

[lordroel]

Jun 14, 2016 22:15:46 GMT spanishspy said:

Covert meeting between SecExtAff Ragnarssen and Paramount Admiral Vukoja, deep space aboard battleship CNS Ernest E. Evans - by Blackjack555

Are more of the ships named after medal of honor receivers who have been dead for almost 600 years.

[spanishspy]

Jun 15, 2016 3:16:24 GMT lordroel said:

Jun 14, 2016 22:15:46 GMT spanishspy said:

Covert meeting between SecExtAff Ragnarssen and Paramount Admiral Vukoja, deep space aboard battleship CNS Ernest E. Evans - by Blackjack555

Are more of the ships named after medal of honor receivers who have been dead for almost 600 years.

There are ships named after all sorts of people. When it existed, the UFMR's ships were named after freedom fighters and scientists for the most part.

[lordroel]

Jun 15, 2016 12:59:44 GMT spanishspy said:

Jun 15, 2016 3:16:24 GMT lordroel said:

Are more of the ships named after medal of honor receivers who have been dead for almost 600 years.

There are ships named after all sorts of people. When it existed, the UFMR's ships were named after freedom fighters and scientists for the most part.

That make sense, there must be a large number of Medal of Honor recipients they can chose form, are only battleships named after them.

[spanishspy]

Jun 15, 2016 13:32:36 GMT lordroel said:

Jun 15, 2016 12:59:44 GMT spanishspy said:

There are ships named after all sorts of people. When it existed, the UFMR's ships were named after freedom fighters and scientists for the most part.

That make sense, there must be a large number of Medal of Honor recipients they can chose form, are only battleships named after them.

No, it varies significantly.

[lordroel]

Jun 15, 2016 15:58:38 GMT spanishspy said:

Jun 15, 2016 13:32:36 GMT lordroel said:

That make sense, there must be a large number of Medal of Honor recipients they can chose form, are only battleships named after them.

No, it varies significantly.

does the medal of honor still exist in the future of have the various powers their own version.

[spanishspy]

Jun 15, 2016 16:00:10 GMT lordroel said:

Jun 15, 2016 15:58:38 GMT spanishspy said:

No, it varies significantly.

does the medal of honor still exist in the future of have the various powers their own version.

Each power has their own honors.

[lordroel]

Jun 15, 2016 16:11:37 GMT spanishspy said:

Jun 15, 2016 16:00:10 GMT lordroel said:

does the medal of honor still exist in the future of have the various powers their own version.

Each power has their own honors.

I think they are given regularly with all the things going on.

[spanishspy]

Jun 15, 2016 16:26:50 GMT lordroel said:

Jun 15, 2016 16:11:37 GMT spanishspy said:

Each power has their own honors.

I think they are given regularly with all the things going on.

To the war heroes? Certainly.

[lordroel]

Jun 15, 2016 16:30:08 GMT spanishspy said:

Jun 15, 2016 16:26:50 GMT lordroel said:

I think they are given regularly with all the things going on.

To the war heroes? Certainly.

I would think that even in the future there is no shortages of war heroes.

[spanishspy]

Jun 15, 2016 18:17:34 GMT lordroel said:

Jun 15, 2016 16:30:08 GMT spanishspy said:

To the war heroes? Certainly.

I would think that even in the future there is no shortages of war heroes.

Given the massive scale of wars in this timeline, that's probably true.

[spanishspy]

Initial field report, CNS Frontiersman, New Jefferson scout stealth cruiser in orbit over Tyre - by Blackjack555

August 22, 2597


BEGIN TRANSMISSION

SENDER: CNS FRONTIERSMAN LC-SR 10967

DESTINATION: FLEETCOM

Communications satellite network emplaced, Vanguard teams deployed to surface.

Situation on ground continuing to evolve. Calderis Pact units merged with Free Colonial Alliance, joint FCA force now firmly in control of Landing City, Foreston. Dale’s Ridge technically under FCA control, but largely destroyed during initial outbreak. Combined force with reinforcements arrived 15 August estimated just over a division in strength. Joint fleet in orbit approx. one carrier battlegroup, landing ships and task groups rotate through periodically.

Democratic Republic of Chiss forces occupy Halesburg after offensive started July 29. Also control much of the surrounding area below the capitol plateau. Multiple outlying settlements now under their control. Major pocket of infected trapped in Stahlman Industries warehouse district and surrounding transit tunnels (estimated count 2 million or greater) outside Steelport currently consuming all DRC military resources available, stalling further advance. Local force in excess of four divisions, orbital fleet two battleships with accompanying battlegroups. DRC relies on escort carriers, three currently active, one destroyed in engagements with FCA naval units during Halesburg offensive.

Holy Kingdom of the Eternal Trinity units deployed on second primary landmass continue to expand territorial holdings, especially focused on mining interests and manufacturing rather than stockpiles of goods. They have deployed five divisions worth of soldiers, although three of those are composed entirely of what appear to be militia, demonstrating little tactical or combat training and extremely poor leadership, far more focused on keeping their own men from retreating than actually fighting the enemy. Orbital assets are mostly bulk transport vessels refitted with STG weaponry and shuttle bays, guarded by one dreadnaught and its accompanying flotilla.

Per Operation Stormwind plans, have initiated covert contact with FCA leadership. Presence remains hidden from majority of FCA forces and all hostile entities. Infiltration teams in place to decapitate DRC force surrounding capitol plateau. Stealth scout platforms in passive operation mode ready to relay hostile fleet disposition on arrival of Battlegroup Revan.

END TRANSMISSION

[spanishspy]

Collected accounts of the New Jefferson landing on Tyre, September 2597 - by Blackjack555

Personal account, Gunnery Sergeant Michael O’Neil, New Jefferson Marine Corps, Tyre Expeditionary Force

We hit orbit over Tyre to the sound of shrapnel bouncing off the hull and the seemingly chaotic racket of a landing force preparing to drop. The assault cruiser CNS Okinawa’s armored “well deck” was full of shouting officers, maintenance crews and loading teams sprinting about, and Marines running for their stations. Marines climbed into drop pods, transports took on munitions and heavy equipment, and orbital drop mechs prepped for ejection from the ship. To the outside observer, it would look like utter pandemonium, but everyone was going where they were supposed to, doing their job to ensure a successful mission.

We could see the battle going on outside on our helmet displays. A massive fleet from the Democratic Republic of Chiss had just made orbit when we entered the system, and the Navy were doing their damnedest to see us through their blockade. The hull rang with the impact of a heavy shell from one of their guns, the deck plating visibly buckling under the blow and knocking a few sailors off their feet, but it didn’t noticeably slow the loading process. My squad, already locked in our drop pods, watched the countdown to launch, eager to be off the ship and into the fight where we could do something.

A New Jefferson Marine Corps Orbit to Surface Deployment Pod, Individual, is the kind of thing that makes a lot of people think Marines are insane. The exterior is covered in angled armor plating around a boxy, padded interior cabin. When you sit back in the pod, adaptive elastic bands and expandable padding lock you and your weapons in place, preventing anything from bouncing around in flight. Each pod has a very small inertial compensator, an air supply, and maneuvering jets. We launched from the cruiser in standard orbital assault drop mode as soon as the Okinawa reached the deployment point.

The ship shook slightly as hundreds of decoys, small drones with ECM packages, flares, and chaff, fired off in a barrage ahead of us, then the indicator light turned green and our pods dropped. Well, dropped is the wrong word, as each pod is fired by a compact magnetic accelerator coil, the ship’s inertial dampers keeping the momentary 200 Earth gravities of acceleration from reducing us to paste. We cleared the orbital battlefield in moments, slammed into the atmosphere, and started decelerating, our pods’ defensive systems taking us on wild, unpredictable maneuvers as multispectrum jamming fields blanketed the local area to try to stop enemy anti-aircraft weapons from locking onto us. The Democratic Republic of Chiss knew what we were doing, and their batteries sent up flak, self-guiding smart shells, missiles, and laser beams, as their fighters raced to intercept us. Our own fighters, A/SF-43 Stormcrows, raced by outside, intercepting the Chiss aircraft while orbital artillery fired on their ground defenses. Closer to the ground, drogue chutes and short-burn plasma thrusters engaged to slow us down, taking the landing from “instant death” to merely “uncomfortably jarring”.

Inevitably, we lost a few pods on the way in. The armor will withstand a lot, but direct hits from air defense artillery is a bit too much even for our systems. However, the countermeasures worked, and we hit the ground ready to fight. The pod unlocked and I called out over the comm, “All right, Marines! FCA IFF transponders are already loaded into your suits, so disembark and engage at will! Oorah!” The door blasted open and I jumped out, rifle in hand already firing at the first Chiss soldier I saw.


Personal account, Squad Leader Tyrone Fredericks, Free Colonial Alliance Tyre Expeditionary Force

We’d been told that we were getting reinforcements from the New Jefferson Confederacy, but I can’t say we really understood what that meant at first. Me and mine were dug in to hold the southern point of the Three Sisters plateau, in the ruins of Dale’s Ridge. God only knows what happened to that place, but by the time we got there, the whole city was already a mass of broken, collapsed buildings and debris. We were told to entrench in the ruins overlooking the only major route that went directly through the area, a big highway built to allow passage to the enormous volume of ground cargo and personal transports between the plateau and port and the outlying manufacturing and storage centers. Now, the Democratic Republic of Chiss were set to advance right up that same highway from Halesburg and seize the port for themselves.

Then, of course, there were the infected. They thrive in places like the network of transit tunnels, underground housing blocks, and utility spaces underneath most major cities. Over the last few months, we’d pretty much cleared them out of the surface structures in our territory, though we still found the odd pocket, but the tunnels? Those were their domain, and we didn’t really figure we could get them out any time soon. Soldiers like us are no good in an environment where the toxic smog kills sensors, air, artillery, and armor can’t get in, and the enemy has claws and teeth that can breach armor and can move in on you in an instant without any warning. The Chiss had the bright idea of using those tunnels to mount a second advance, which on the one hand consumed a few thousand of their men in a hopeless push into the dark, and on the other gave the infected a few thousand reinforcements. Not everyone bitten dies, and not everyone who dies of the infection turns, but enough do that it’s a very real problem. Especially when those who turn are still wearing full assault armor, not great against a horde of teeth and claws but still just as good against bullets as ever, now worn by something that barely feels pain and has no concept of fear.

All in all, as my squad sat there in the rubble of an old skyscraper that partially blocked the road, we weren’t feeling all that optimistic. That morning, we’d already fended off one Chiss advance. They shelled us with long-range gun batteries, forcing us to hide deeper in the ruins, then drove right up the road, armored infantry carriers and light tanks screening a column of mechanized infantry. About two companies of Alliance troops had been assigned to stop them, and we caught them as they entered the same rubble field we now defended. At first, it was going our way. I know Fuller’s heavy anti-vehicle autocannon accounted for seven or eight enemy vehicles, and the opening salvo from our AT crews’ Javelin missile pods looked like a storm of meteors descending on the enemy from above to punch through weak points and hatches. Soft-cover infantry transport trucks were just shredded under the rain of explosives and high-caliber rounds, and we probably accounted for at least our number of them before they were able to regroup. But then, they brought up heavy armor, got their men out of the transports, and called in reinforcements. Their infantry swarmed into the buildings we held, our heavy weapons suppressed by tanks and artillery fire, as they redoubled their artillery and started dropping shells on our own mortars and cannons. Our own command brought up another company with air support to back us up, and the battle overhead became a confusing tangle as our fighters and theirs, both sides using the venerable AIC joint-designed MF-78 Star Falcons, dueled, craft on one side or the other breaking free at random to launch strikes on whatever targets they could hit. On the ground, the Chiss drove our forces back briefly, but faltered as they hit actual fixed defenses, strongpoints within the ruins set up in case this exact thing happened. After a few hundred casualties on both sides, the Chiss withdrew to regroup, resupply, and plan.

They hit us the second time in early afternoon. The artillery bombardment picked up from the rather sporadic shelling they had maintained to keep us from getting any real rest, to a hurricane of explosive and shrapnel. Their men advanced on foot this time, already spread out and in cover, denying us the opportunity to ambush them in their trucks again. Heavy tanks, the leading edge of which had been hastily up-armored with sheets of reactive armor bolted on top of the turrets to block our Javelins, raced along up the road, guns blazing, caring less about actually hitting us than about simply pinning us down. Overhead, their fighters roared in, dropping bombs and firing salvos of rockets at any position they could find. A second set flew cover, intercepting our air support and blocking our interceptors, while low-flying gunships annihilated any ADA emplacement that opened fire. We were making them pay for every inch of ground, the interior of the buildings between our defenses and the open ground a nightmarish meat grinder of strongpoints, mines, traps, and pre-placed ambush teams, but it was clear we were losing. Our comms were filled with requests for fire support, medics, and supplies, and the screams of the dead and dying.

The New Jefferson Marine Corps really know how to make an entrance. The callsign for the defense line was Palisade. A Marine officer with an accent somewhere between Old Earth Southern and a landslide came on the network and very calmly announced, “All Palisade elements, this is Werecat Actual. Find some cover and hang in there, we are inbound hot. Palisade squad leaders, use the battlenet to mark targets for air and orbital support fire. Watch your fire once we arrive, your IFF should show us as friendly and it’s not hard to tell we ain’t Chiss but it’s gonna get a little bit crazy here in a few seconds. Hold fast, the Marines are coming.”

Up above us, hundreds of points of light drew rapidly closer to the ground. A flight of their fighters roared by overhead, punching straight through the dogfight toward the ground before making an extremely tight turn to fly practically at rooftop height. The Star Falcons are big, heavy, three-engine beasts with a pilot, gunner, and comms/engineering tech, a somewhat short body, and long wings that can fold back in space or for storage. They’re not slow or cumbersome by any means, but the new fighters made them look like it. Two engines, the blue-white glow suggesting plasma drives rather than standard solid-fuel/turbine multirole jets, forward-swept angular wings, and what I eventually realized are vectored thrusters for tight maneuvers in any direction at various points on the body. The four Stormcrows went by with guns and missile pods blazing, knocking out air defenses and heavy armor. Along the front, which had now expanded along the ruined streets and leveled debris fields until it was a couple of kilometers across, more fighters flew past, as a group of them entered the fray with the Chiss interceptors. I watched, in a moment of relative calm as I reloaded, as one of their fighters got into a fight with three Chiss birds. His wingman, I assume, came down from above and ripped one of the pursuers apart with what looked like an autocannon, but much, much more powerful. The pilot of the pursued fighter went into a straight climb, then flipped his fighter around, momentum carrying him upward, and fired a missile into another pursuer. The third Star Falcon managed to get off a shot, a pair of missiles that streaked toward the smaller aircraft, one of which lost its lock and spiraled off into the distance randomly. The other was taken out by a point defense weapon and exploded, the shrapnel tearing into one of the fighter’s engines, but the pilot retained enough control to get off a missile of his own that detonated right next to the last Falcon’s power plant, annihilating it in a brilliant fireball. The wounded fighter and his wingman turned and headed back to orbit, the fighter badly damaged but still victorious and able to return to its carrier.

Then the drop pods hit the ground. Frankly, even though I knew they were on my side, the experience of their landing is terrifying. The braking jets make a hissing, shrieking sound, just audible over the roar of the wind around the pods. When they land, everything shakes. The Marines inside leapt out, some instantly opening fire where they stood, others dropping to find cover or pull heavy equipment out of their pods. Smaller ones, supply containers, landed around them, using their ability to survive a much harder landing than the human cargo of the main pods to gain some extra time to maneuver to avoid collisions before impact. Some contained weapons, others food, medical supplies, ammunition, and a variety of specialized equipment. After I looked for a minute I realized they had everything in those pods that they would need to operate for a week or so as an independent force. Most impressive, though, were the mechs. Much larger pods than the individual Marines’ hit along the battlefront in places where it looked like they would need more support. Those pods blew open on all sides, allowing four meter tall bipedal armored mechs to step out with a wide array of weapons. One landed just in front of our position, between us and a group of enemy light assault vehicles moving up with anti-personnel cannons and flamethrowers. The mech had a massive assault shield on one arm, while the other “hand” held a long powered axe and a large-bore railgun extended from its wrist. The pilot slammed his axe down on the turret of one of the boxy, tracked assault vehicles, crushing the turret and the middle of the vehicle. The charged particle field around the blade ignited the vehicle’s ammunition stores, and it exploded. Two other LAVs opened fire, but couldn’t penetrate the shield, and the mech drove his axe into the side of one, killing everyone inside, while stomping on the crew cabin of the other. The fourth tried his flamethrower, which made the mech stumble back for a moment, but then the pilot recovered from the surprise and fired the railgun, sending a twenty-five centimeter long metal dart through the vehicle with enough force to knock it backward and crumple the front halfway toward the back, only to bow out again as the fuel and ammunition cooked off.