u/CandidateWolf

With the end of the Battle of Wishful Hope, the third act ends and the fourth and final begins. In the aftermath of the battle with the Legion already reeling, the End Game of the Orion War and the Cyberattack that ushered it in begins. We find ourselves with a new cast of characters, and a frontline seat to the true cost of the SC’s victory. Enjoy!

Memory encrypted… override key enabled… begin decryption…

Access code Epsilon-Zeta-2328-AP
Unauthorized redactions removed… original data restored…

Addendum: Data restored under Article 2.09 of the UNOR by order of the Secretary General.  Original, unaltered transcripts restored and entered as evidence in the Bronwen Report.  -Chief Investigator Andrea Powell, UN Office of Reconciliation

Memory accessed…

Memory Transcription subject: [Farsul-1] Sarq, the Free Legion, “Penitents”
Date [standardized human time]: [Redacted] March 9, 2137, Olosf, Yarus (Farsul States Colony)

As [Farsul-2] Desq turned onto the road on which our target lay, I turned away from my view out the front windshield.  I fixed an eye on the Legionnaires packed in the exterminator van behind me, each dressed as an exterminator themselves.  “We’re almost there,” I announced.  “Finish your last checks, and get ready to move.”

As the four other members of my cell started their final inspections, I began my own.  I quickly ran through a function check in my submachine gun, tightened the straps of the armored vest I wore beneath the silver suit, and activated a quick diagnostic on my visor.  My thoughts wandered for a moment as I did, and I let myself indulge.

The Penitents, I thought, checking my magazine pouches.  How appropriate.  I’d been one of the few Farsul in the first cohort of the Free Legion, and when the time came to decide what to call our cell, I couldn’t think of anything more appropriate.  My people and the Kolshians have a lot to make up for, I remembered saying.  Our people’s penance can start with us; by working to take down the system that made the horrors our ancestors did possible.

We’d added members since our deployment; primarily other Farsul and Kolshians.  There were many of us out there, each horrified to learn what our predecessors had done to the species of our friends, family, and neighbors,  and were willing to do something about it.  One by one we’ll show the galaxy we can be trusted again, I thought.  Talsk’s imprisonment flashed through my mind; I quickly shook the fate of my home from my thoughts.  One day.  And then we can start repairing all the damage that’s been done.

Finishing my checks and finding everything in order, I turned my attention back out the front of the van.  And today is another step in that direction, I thought.  There’s already people out there who’ve broken the conditioning of the Feds, and we need to keep them safe.

Desq had slowed the van, then spun the wheel and turned right into the narrow alley between two apartment buildings.  A short drive brought us down a steep incline, and we stopped in front of the locked service doors that led into either building.  “Desq,” I said, turning to the cream colored Farsul.  “Once we breach, back out and do a couple circles around the complex,” I told her.  “We’ll meet back here.”

I fixed my other eye on [Farsul-3] Eva.  “If anyone asks,” I instructed.  “You got a call about some suspicious activity, possibly a predator.  If they press, you know what to do.”  Their hood already over their head, she nodded.

“The rest of us,” I said, facing the remaining members of our cell.  “We move fast and quiet.  Secure the asset, neutralize hostiles, and extract.  We’ve got the militia waiting to pull us out of the city once we make it to the extract point; let’s try not to keep them waiting.”

With a waving of tails I secured my own hood over my head, sealing myself into my disguise.  Despite the fate of the prior owners, the suit was almost as good as new.  Thank you, [redacted] Free Yurus Militia, I thought.  I’m glad you learned your lesson after that last debacle.

Brushing away the memory of receiving a silver suit with bloodstains still coating the inside, I stepped up to the door and slid it open.  [Kolshian-1] Rikus dropped out first, submachine gun cradled casually, as if this was any other day.  [Kolshian-2] Verkus went next, followed by [Farsul-4] Teqs and finally myself.  Eva slid the door closed behind us as we walked up to the service door on our left.

Upon reaching it, Rikus reached into a pouch around his midsection and pulled a pair of objects from within.  He handed one to Verkus, and the two of them reached out for the door.  Rikus pressed and held his object, a hollow half-sphere, over the lock, while Verkus attached his to the top with a magnetic click.

With a single tap on his shoulder from Verkus, telling him the jammer was active, Rikus twisted and there was a flash against the lock, accompanied by a dull hiss.  He waited a moment, then another, before pulling his tentacle away and dropping the spent lock-breaker charge back into the pouch.  Then he grasped the handle of the door and pulled it open.  We followed him inside, still acting as if we were going on a casual stroll through the park.  Behind us Desq reversed carefully up the slope before we lost sight of her as the door closed.

The door closed with a soft click behind us, our weapons rising to our shoulders or their equivalents.  No longer in a public area, all pretense that we were exterminators dropped.  “Weapons free,” I whispered, barely audible through my hood but heard clearly through the earpieces we wore.  We shouldn’t run into too much trouble, but you never know.

We were in Olosf because a few days ago [Farsul-5] Feqik, one of the planet's leading opposition figures and leader of the [redacted] Yurus Freedom Coalition, the main opposition party, had been arrested under suspicion of “predator disease related corruption.”  The state-run media networks had been clear that his arrest was in no way related to the bill he’d recently introduced, asking for stricter criteria for a diagnosis of PD, a review of all facilities and an independent verification of the diagnosis of every patient held within them.

Ridiculous that anyone could even think the two may be related, I thought sarcastically.  Especially not since he’s been the most vocal of the supporters for those revealed as former omnivores.  And his calls for an independent investigation of actions by the planet’s Exterminators in the wake of the Archives Release.  Again, ridiculous.

We crossed the dark basement, passing the gently humming furnace and water tank, and stopped before the door leading to the main stairway.  Our target had been spirited away from his house in a midnight raid a few days prior, and while awaiting his arraignment had been bounced from location to location under “house arrest.”  There had been many protests against his arrest under such dubious charges and circumstances, and the authorities had feared someone would try to free him.  

And with the Coalition growing stronger, it’s not an unrealistic fear, I thought, as Verkus slowly pushed the door open, revealing the darkened stairs beyond.  As evidenced by us.  Unfortunately for them, it wasn’t just the opposition who had an issue with how they’re handling him.  A dissident within the local Magistrate office had contacted the opposition, leaking the apartments where they’d planned to keep Feqik before his arraignment.  Their leak had prompted our mission to rescue him before he disappeared into the bowels of a PD facility and the tortures that no doubt awaited him within.

We filed out of the basement, but paused at the bottom of the stairs before we began our climb.  I glanced at the clock in the corner of my visor, and as expected, my pad gave a low buzz.  “Alert ping,” I whispered to my team.  “Night-vision on; prepare for lights out.”

As part of our plan to rescue Feqik, several of our fellow operatives had been tasked with creating a diversion that would let us get as close as possible without drawing attention.  It was the hot season in this part of Yarus; as a result, most people had their air conditioning cranked up high.  Brown outs weren’t unheard of, even if they were rare.  To make it appear as if one had occurred, fires would be set at the local power transfer station and the power plant; the interruption in power should be initially blamed on excess demand, and give us a distraction to close with the guards.  Enough damage to give us an opening, not enough to cause unnecessary harm, I thought.

No sooner had I spoken than the light illuminating the building flickered and died.  My visor came to life only moments later, bathing all I saw in the familiar green shade.  “Let’s move,” I ordered, and started for the stairs, now bathed in dim emergency lighting.  We started our climb, paws and tentacles moving silently up the stairs

We’d just passed the door to the first floor when my visor suddenly flickered; a connection alert flashed in the corner, and any link to the rest of my team was lost.  At the same time, the emergency lights that lit the stairway blinked out, and the hum of air from the building's ventilation and climate control fell silent.  I stopped midstep at the sudden silence, my fur instinctively standing on end.

Something’s wrong, I realized, not sure what that “something” was yet.  The rest of my team felt it too; they’d halted their movements, sliding against the wall to take cover.  “Something’s wrong,” I echoed, not hearing my voice transmitted to the earpiece I wore.  

I keyed my mic.  “Radio check,” I said.  Nothing.  Shit.  I pulled my pad from its pouch on my hip next; it turned on without issue, but I saw no connection to the Net.  No hotspots or locals private connections either, I observed.

“Radio’s dead,” Teqs whispered, voice muffled behind the hood as he confirmed my findings.  “Net too.  I can't raise anyone or get anything on my pad.  Maybe the fires were too effective?”

“Not likely,” Rikus said.  “They shouldn’t have been bad enough to black out everything; just the main power.  Emergency systems should still be up.  Not unless the whole plant went up of course, but if it did, we’d know by now.”

“You’re right,” I told him.  “No chance we caused that much damage with the size of the fires planned.  Something else is going on.”  There was commotion now; both inside and outside the apartment.  I could hear raised voices, muffled by the walls, but the panic and fear within them were still unmistakable.

I looked past Verkus up the dark stairs, then back to the rest of my team, motioning us upwards.  “We’ll figure out what’s going on later,” I said.  “Let’s make the most of whatever’s happening for now.  Keep going; just a few more flights to go.”

We kept making our way up the stairs, when suddenly above us one of the doors to the stairway slammed open.  There was the sound of rushed footsteps above us, quickly getting closer as they descended.  We instinctively pressed ourselves against the wall, weapons raised towards its source as a dim light came into view.  A moment later its source appeared; two adults and a pup barreled around the corner, making their way to the ground floor.  

As they passed, the adult male gave us an ear flick of greetings before continuing down the stairs without another look.  Before I could process what had just happened, I heard more doors open, more running paws and loud footsteps, and the lights of flashlights, open pads and even a camp lantern cut through the pitch darkness.  

First one, then another, the more residents began to rush down the stairs, each just barely slipping past with room to spare.  The building is emptying out, I realized, as lone individuals, pairs, small groups and whole families flowed past us down the darkened stairway.  What the fuck is happening!?

“To the objective,” I said, loud enough for my team to hear over the sin of the scared, anxious residents who passed us.  “Double time!  Teqs, keep trying to raise someone; anyone!  Find out what’s going on!”

We pushed up the stairs, weapons raised and visible; they were wonderful at clearing us a path up.  Occasionally one of the residents descending would stop to ask us questions, but we dismissed them with a curt wave.  Most just passed us with at most a curious glance or a few words of thanks and encouragement.

The fleeing residents thinned as we neared the top, finally ending with one last Farsul who was lugging a heavy suitcase down the stairs behind him.  As we passed him, he stopped and turned to us.  “Be careful,” he said, suitcase thudding on the stairs behind him.  “You can’t see anything up there; the whole city’s dark!”

I stopped and turned to face him.  “What do you mean the whole city’s dark?” I asked.  Those fires were not supposed to be big enough to cause all of this, I thought.  Scenarios in which they could have spiraled out of control to land us in this position began to run through my mind.  Even if the plant went into emergency shutdown, there’s still be redundant flow from other power plants, I thought.  The lights would go out but something would still work.

“I mean the whole city!” the Farsul exclaimed.  “As far as your eye can see!  Everything’s out; streetlights, buildings, even the lights at the spaceport over the river!  The only lights out there are the folks in the streets trying to find out what’s wrong, some fires that started who knows how, and the stars over our heads!”  With that he turned and kept moving down the stairs, the sound of his suitcase hitting each step fading as he disappeared.

“Still nothing,” Teqs said quietly.  “No comms, no Net, nothing.  Whole city’s dark.  It’s like someone flipped a switch and turned them off.”

“Impossible!” Rikus exclaimed.  “Who’d be able to turn off everything?  The sheer scale of pulling that off.. the damage it’d cause…”  his voice trailed off for a moment.  “There aren’t any other [redacted] Free Legion cells here, right?  Anyone who could have done something like this?”

“We don’t have that capability,” I said, though I could hear the uncertainty in my own voice.  Do we?  “There must be another explanation.  An unexpected solar flare, maybe?”

We reached the final landing before the roof exit, carefully pushing through to the fifth floor.  The corridor beyond was empty; doors dotted either side, most closed, others left open in their inhabitants rush to leave the suddenly dark building.  There were some belongings scattered about, things their owners had considered fleeing with before evidently changing their minds. Beyond the reach of our nightvision, I could just make out the corner ahead as the hallway turned to the left.

“Last apartment on the right,” I said, keeping my voice just low enough to be heard.  “Apartment 5-22.  Let’s move!”

We advanced down the dark corridor of the L-shaped floor, quickly reaching the corner.  A quick look showed that no guards stood outside the target apartment, and the far end was as dark as the rest of the hall.  We kept moving, past dark and empty apartments, when we passed a large window overlooking the park below.  What was outside made all of us come to a sudden stop.

I lowered my submachine gun, mouth falling open at the sight outside.  Above us was a rich canopy of stars, the clearest I’d seen since my time outside in the wilds of Wishful Hope.  Lights crossed the distant lights; satellites and starships both.  There were splotches of purple, blues and yellows visible, distant nebula normally hidden by the light pollution from below.  But below the bright, beautiful canvas of stars above was a sea of inky black and shadowed outlines.

The city had been plunged into darkness.  Every building, streetlight, sign or window display was dark.  In the streets, hundreds of tiny lights; personal pads, flashlights, headlights cut through the seas of black like a mirror of the stars above.  Many of the lights rushed up or down the streets without direction as panicked citizens stampeded through their dark city.

Then there were the fires, whose flames stood out like beacons in the night.  From the power substation our fellow Legionnaires had set alight as part of a distraction, flames had leapt to neighboring buildings, the orange-red glow spreading like the hunger of an insatiable beast.  Red cinders drifted into the sky, setting upon other sources of fuel and adding those to the spreading glow.  And ours was not the only source; I counted at least four more large fires in other parts of the city.

“Ancestors,” I breathed, shocked.  “What the hell is happening?”  The fires that burned seemed to be out of control; there was no sign of the fire suppression systems that were mandatory in every building constructed to Federation code.  I saw the lights of emergency vehicles here and there, but the faint outlines I saw told me that only the tanker trucks of the fire department were in use; there seemed to be no sign that the fire hydrants scattered around the city were functional.

“The whole city is going to burn down at this rate,” Verkus said, disbelieving.  “How!?”  I was the first to shake off the shock, though it took longer than I cared to admit.  I nudged my teammates one by one, and we went back into formation, moving the final distance down the hallway to where our objective awaited.

As we neared, I could hear hushed but frantic voices within.  At least three, I thought, identifying the different voices within.  They must be as confused as we are as to what’s going on.  With paw signals, I ordered my team to stack up around the door.  I took point this time, resting my back beside the doorframe, next to the handle.  

As Rikus began to ready another breaching charge, I reached out curiously, carefully testing the handle beside me.  Things just a regular apartment, I thought, grasping the handle.  Probably used for short term leases.  They wouldn’t bother to change the locks every time a new tenant moves in, and if it’s like the apartment buildings back in Talsk…. The door handle turned in my paw, and I heard the soft click as the latch bolt slid back.

Perfect, I thought, pushing the door forward just enough to clear the latch plate, past the now inert electronic locks that would have sealed the apartment from the world.  Wired into the building's power supply, I figured.  With the power out, the electronic locks don’t work.  And looks like they forgot to turn the deadbolt.

I got the rest of the teams attention, and quickly laid out my plan, now that we had free, silent entry to within.  First Teqs, then me, then Verkus, I thought, pointing to each of us in turn.  Rikus covers the exit, while the rest of us head inside.  The interior would be the same, identical two bedroom apartment that could be found across the Federation.

Enter the door, then spread out wide into the studio living room, dining room, and kitchen space, I thought.  Bedrooms are straight ahead and left, bathroom is right.  I listened carefully.  I could still hear the voices within, now more clear with the door no longer blocking them.

“We haven’t been able to contact the guild in almost [15 minutes]!” Someone was saying.  “And just look out there!  Everything’s gone out!  Something is seriously wrong; I don’t know how you don’t understand that!?”

“I understand that something’s going on!” another voice replied, angry.  “I’m just not enough of a child to go running back to the guild the minute something out of the ordinary happens!  I’m not blind; I can see the city’s lost power.  I’m not going to just go blindly wandering through the streets and who knows how many stampedes and what else unless I have to!”

“Both of you, enough!” said a third voice, its tone commanding. The others fell silent without further argument.  “Our first priority is to ensure the prisoner remains in custody,” the third voice said.  “And that’s orders don’t change because of a blackout.”

“And if it’s an invasion?” The first voice said.  “It could be the Humans and their lapdogs!  It could be the grays!  What then?”

“If it were an invasion we’d already know about it,” the third voice said dryly.  “I don’t see any ships landing or throwing antimatter bombs from low orbit, do you?”

Deciding that I’d heard enough, I made a fist and tapped the top of my hood.  -Get ready- the motion said.  I pointed to Teqs and the door handle, getting a nod in return as they gripped it.  My fellow Legionnaires raised their weapons and planted their feet.  I made a fist over my head, and slowly, exaggerating the motions, tapped my hood again.  One… two… three!  Teqs pushed the door open smoothly, slipping inside the now open entry and moving to the left.  I followed closely, headed straight in, heart pounding.  Verkus was right on my tail, going left.

My eyes scanned the room as I moved; in the center, seated around a coffee table on which a lit pad sat, were three Farsul.  They each had the builds and the cut of the fur of exterminators, and I spied a flamethrower leaning against the far wall.  A Human saying came to mind as the three exterminators turned towards the sound of soft footsteps entering the room, one reaching for what could be a weapon.  Fish in a box, I thought.  I pulled the trigger.

My weapon coughed; three suppressed shots lit the room with muted muzzle flashes, catching the center exterminator across the chest.  There was a flash of blue blood, dark green through my visor, and they fell.  The other two dropped just as quickly, either Legionnaire beside me firing almost as soon as I had.

The light of the muzzle flashes faded, and the smell of blood and smoke filled the air.  “Teqs, police the bodies, then bathroom,” I ordered.  “Verkus, left bedroom.  I’ll take center.”

Without acknowledging my commands they began to move.  Teqs quickly crossed the room to the downed enemies, his weapon still shouldered but aimed at the floor.  I passed him on the way to the headroom ahead of me.  Behind me Teqs’ submachine gun coughed once, twice, three times.  They won’t be getting back up, I thought.

I reached the door, which was closed, and found it locked from outside.  I stopped, listening carefully, and heard soft whimpers from within.  I knocked once.  “Feqik,” I said softly.  “I’m with the Penitents.  We’re working with the Free Yurus Militia.  Is that you?”

Behind the door the whimpering stopped, and a voice called out, still trembling, “Yes, it’s me.  Are you here to rescue me?”

“We are,” I confirmed.  “Now stand back from the door, keep your paws in the air.  I’m coming in.  No sudden moves, please.”

Behind the door I heard the scramble of footsteps, and an affirmative yip.  I unlocked the door and pushed it in, weapons still leveled.  Within was a sparse bedroom, with just a bare mattress and a side table, atop which was a dark lamp and a grooming kit.  Standing in front of the bed was an older Farsul, muzzle light in my visor.  “Identification code,” I ordered, my weapon aimed at his chest.

Without hesitation he launched into a brief string of numbers and letters, one each of us had memorized.  When he finished I lowered my weapons, taking a few steps forward.  I unzipped my hood and let it fall to my back, glad to finally feel the air through my fur.  “Glad to find you alive,” I told the elder statesman.  “And hopefully in one piece.”  I motioned towards the apartment behind me, where Teqs and Verkus had reappeared.  “Let’s move,” I said.  “We’ve got extract waiting.”

I turned from the room, Feqik following behind me.  “I heard them saying something’s happened out there,” he said, following me to the exit.  After a brief pause I moved back into the hallway, Rikus now moving ahead of us, weapon sweeping side to side.  Verkus and Teqs fell into the rear, while I stayed next to the VIP.  “Do you have any idea what’s happening?  Is it your doing?”

“We’ve got no idea what’s happening,” I told him honestly.  “We’d planned some sabotage to cause a brown out in the area, but nothing of this scale.  Looks like anything powered and connected to the main grid, all comms and the Net are all down.  Presumably anything that’s connected to them is down too.”

His voice fell, and I detected a tremble in his voice.  “Is it the Arxur?” he asked, fearfully.  

Now free from the hood, my ears flicked a negative.  “None of the Chief Hunters operate this far inside Federation borders,” I told him.  “Especially since the Rebellion kicked off.  And it’s not the SC either, that we know of,” I said, anticipating his next question.  

“All I know is that this city has gone dark, and now that we have you we are going to leave as quickly as we can,” I continued as we reached the door of the stairs.  “Once you are safe and out of danger, then we can start looking for answers as to why everything just went down.”

We quickly moved downstairs, alert for any opposition drawn by the gunfire.  However, aside from the odd resident or two who passed us headed back to their apartments, we met no one on the way back down.  We retraced our steps; to the basement and through it to the service door, then emerged into the night air and made our way to the street.  What had clearly been chaos above was pandemonium down here.  

Fires, once distant, had now spread only a few blocks away, lending a hellish backdrop to the city.  Many of the stampeding crowds had passed by, but in their wake left hundreds of the trampled, both wounded and dead.  There were many vehicles, probably automated, who’d crashed into one another or the side of the road.  Behind their windshields, I could see many of their drivers slumped over the steering wheels, motionless.

Down the road came the roar of an engine, and an exterminator van came into sight, its high beams cutting through the darkness, emergency lights flashing atop it.  “Your ride?” Feqik asked hopefully.  

“No,” I said, ears flicking back and forth.  I waved a paw, and my squad fell back towards the alley, Teqs yanking the politician into cover.  “Ours wouldn’t run lights; those are real ones.  Cover!”

The van sped forward as we fell back, dropping down against the incline.  The exterminator van, brakes squealing, came to a stop in front of us, the tires smoking.  The side door slid open, revealing a group of five exterminators within, flamethrowers already raised.  Must have had a QRF, I thought.  Scrambled the minute everything went down.

I didn’t need to give the order, and we didn’t give them a chance.  A heartbeat after the door had opened, we opened fire into the van.  The exterminators within dropped; two fell from the vehicle, hitting the pavement hard.  Another tried to duck to the side but failed; a burst cut through their side, spraying the wall with blood and they dropped.  

I took aim at one with a flamethrower on their backs.  I fired a burst, then another, then another.  I wasn’t sure how many rounds hit the tank, but there was a loud whistle before the fuel tank exploded with a whump.  The interior of the van was suddenly filled with fire; those left inside disappeared.  There was a brief, panicked shout from the driver's seat, quickly turned into a high pitch scream that faded as quickly as it had arisen.  The windshield exploded outwards, showering the roadway with reinforced glass shards, and a column of fire and thick black smoke rose into the night sky.

“Move, before the vans cells go off!” I ordered, scrambling to my feet and out of the alley.  Once past the ticking time bomb I cut left down the road, away from the inferno.  The others were right on my tail; even the older Feqik managed to keep up.  Ahead, a second exterminator van appeared.  This time, there were no headlights to guide it through the dark, and no emergency lights or sirens announced its presence.  “That’s our ride,” I said aloud, slowing and raising a paw.  

The van screeched to a halt, and the door slid open, revealing the familiar form of Eva.  “Nice fireworks,” she said, paw extended to help us in.  I pushed the politician forward first; Ava grabbed his paw and hauled him up, then helped the rest of us inside.  “We’d wondered how we’d find you in this mess.  Glad you thought of that.”

“I try,” I replied.  “Now do either of you have any idea what the hell is happening out here?  We’ve lost all comms, the power and Net is out, and the city looks like it’s burning down around us.”  The door slid shut and Desq stomped on the accelerator.  The van shot forward, weaving between the wrecks and bodies scattered across the roadway.

“We’re just as in the dark as you,” Desq called from upfront.  Behind us there was a flash and a boom as the exterminator van’s hydrogen cell detonated.  She glanced at the rear view mirror, and I caught the blast reflected in her visor.  “All I know is that we were confirming the extract point with the Militia when suddenly everything went dark and quiet.  Even the van shut down; had to wrestle the bitch back onto the road and dodge a couple cars whose drivers weren’t as good as me.”

“Even the van?” I asked, incredulous.  Not just the automated vehicles then, I thought.  Anything connected to the Net must have been affected.   

“We managed to restart it by doing a rough factory reset,” Eva explained.  “It got her moving, but the minute we turn off the engine, that’s it.  We bypassed and overrode safeties that aren’t meant to be bypassed, and the programming did not like that.”

“Will it get us to extract?” I asked.

“If we can get there,” Desq said.  “Cargo train derailed in the next district; took out a passenger train and spilled everything it was carrying.  Main rail line is down; main highway is blocked.  It’ll be side streets and alleys; and that’s IF we can get past all the crashed buses and cars closer to the city center.”

“Hope you aren’t tired, Feqik,” Verkus said.  “You’re stuck with us a bit longer, and we’re gonna be doing some walking.”  

“Bring us as far as you can,” I ordered our driver.  “Then we ditch the van and torch it.  We march all night if we have to in order to make it to the extract point.  And hope the Militia is still there”  

I leaned forward, staring out the windshield as we drove through what looked like a war zone, which only a few claws before had been a bustling, modern city.  Something brought this city to its knees in minutes, I thought, and again my fur stood on end.  We need to find out what that was, and figure out where we go from here.

Archivists note: the Cyberattack on March 9, 2137, launched by the UN against the Federation, crippled countless worlds and stations.  Power systems, communications, utilities, banking systems, the Net and more were shut down or wiped out in moments, sending numerous worlds back to the dark ages.  The attack was probably the single most devastating and lethal attack in the history of our galaxy, and hopefully we will never see its like again.  

I can’t adequately describe the sheer scale of the destruction wrought by the attack in this note; to do it justice would require a document on the scale of the Bronwen Report in its entirety.  Instead, I recommend By Any Means by Lawrence Kraft.  This is considered the premier academic source on the effects of the cyberattack on the typical Federation planet, with detailed analysis of the secondary and tertiary effects of the attack and their lasting impact on Federation society.  It also includes what’s considered the most accurate estimate of casualties caused by the attack at this time.

And we cannot understate the casualties.  Malnutrition, disease, violence, exposure to the elements, accidents and other causes directly connected to the effects of the Cyberattack killed countless beings, and harmed countless more.  It is difficult to even comprehend the scale of death.

The blame of all of this death and devastation fell squarely upon the shoulders of the UN and the SC, and all of the species that made up its members.  It was also placed upon the shoulders of the Cured population, already a scapegoat across much of the Federation.  The populations of these species, SC aligned and Cured alike on affected Federation worlds faced unspeakable violence and retaliation; ostracization turned into pogroms that would make the Tsar sick, a Predator Disease diagnosis became a death sentence, and internment turned into extermination.

Federation society, already fractured, began to break down.  On many worlds, might  and the ability to keep order became the primary deciding factor on who would rule.  Exterminator Guilds, usually the most militarized part of Federation society aside from the military, seized power on dozens of worlds.  Their leaders would rule as warlords, and even on planets whose civilian governments retained control extreme violence was used to restore order and maintain their control.

It was in this environment that much of the Free Legion found itself.  The Legion as a whole was largely unaware of the imminent Cyberattack, and as a result suffered heavily for it, unprepared to cope with its effects.  Of all the Free Legion cells lost during the Orion War, nearly a third were destroyed in the weeks following the Cyberattack.  Others struggled to maintain their operational effectiveness, or were forced to withdraw from Federation space at their earliest opportunity.  

Others, however, thrived.  The Cyberattack had broken the bonds that held society together, and reforging these bonds required extreme actions by those holding extreme versions of the dominant Federation beliefs.  Levels of desperation, suffering, anger and despair never seen before proved fertile breeding grounds for the kinds of extremism that we have seen in our own history; the interwar period of the 1920’s, the 2030’s, and the aftermath of the Satellite Wars come to mind.  This extremism became a bottomless well from which dedicated groups would draw from, and their efforts are still felt to this day. -A. Piers, UN Office of Reconciliation 

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Trying to find solutions to getting my mower to actually collect the grass I cut (want to use it for compost, clean the yard up a bit).

I’m planning on hitting both of the bags themselves with a pressure washer attachment, then getting some hi-lift blades (existing blades could use to be replaced or sharpened at least anyway).

Is there anything else I could do?

I’m looking at building some raised beds out of 8x2 ft galvanized metal roofing panels. What can I use to brace the long sides so they don’t bow out?

And here we are; the last chapter of the Battle of Wishful Hope. Thanks to everyone who’s stuck around this long, reading, enjoying and leaving comments, and to u/spacepaladin15 who came up with the NoP universe in the first place!

Memory encrypted… override key enabled… begin decryption…

Access code Epsilon-Zeta-2328-AP
Unauthorized redactions removed… original data restored…

Addendum: Data restored under Article 2.09 of the UNOR by order of the Secretary General.  Original, unaltered transcripts restored and entered as evidence in the Bronwen Report.  -Chief Investigator Andrea Powell, UN Office of Reconciliation

Memory accessed…

Memory Transcription subject: Major Somtak, United Nations Special Operations, Free Legion Command
Date [standardized human time]: March 9, 2137, Forge, Wishful Hope

“Covering!” I heard Jackson yell, and I leaped to my paws, charging forward with several Legionnaires at my side.  I hit the deck, taking cover behind a concrete barrier along the road.  I stuck my rifle over, sprayed a burst of fire, then rose to be more deliberate with my suppressive fire.  “Covering!”  I shouted, opening fire with the Legionnaires beside me.

Reinforcements had finally arrived after a long night of constant fighting, and just in time.  One look at any of us, even the Humans, showed that we were all reaching the ends of our endurance.  Most of the non-humans, aside from a few freaks of nature who could keep up with the Humans, had fallen back onto our emergency stims to keep us going.  Thankfully, reinforcements had begun relieving our beleaguered forces.

The jamming had cleared, finally allowing proper coordination and status updates from across the world.  The reports had been heartbreaking; multiple defenses had been overwhelmed, and limited antimatter bombardments had occurred across Wishful Hope.  Countless Legionnaires and refugees were no doubt dead, and those who remained were at their limits.

In orbit, [Takkan-1] Admiral Sarn’s relief fleet, though able to rush troops to the surface, had been all but annihilated.  They were spared total destruction only by the timely arrival of the [redacted] Void Rangers fleet, led by their apparent flagship, the [redacted] Legio Invicta, a ship of whom I’d only heard rumors of*.*  It was the Void Rangers who had dealt the decisive blow, overwhelming the remaining Federation forces in orbit.

However, the hope their arrival had signaled had been quickly dashed by [Krakotl-1] Admiral Kelsim’s broadcast warning that bombers had made it into the atmosphere.  Even worse, he had made it clear that it was unlikely his forces would be able to stop them all.  As a result, we’d hurried our already breakneck pace towards the final anti-aircraft battery around Forge, after finally relieving the defenders at Forge’s defense cannon.

We’ve lost the northern battery, I thought.  And we’ve lost the contact we reestablished with Sarkis.  I was worried; reports from Guard units in the area had reported a detonation of some kind from the battery, and we were unable to raise anyone by radio.  More concerning, the landline was no longer active, suggesting the buried line had been somehow severed.

If we’ve lost the southern battery too, then Forge and the Academy are vulnerable to those bombers who made it through the Void Rangers.  We could mostly cover the town and Academy with two batteries, but if we lost another, like the eastern battery still under assault… We can’t afford to lose another.

“Covering!”  Another yell, and I banished the fears from my mind to the reply of “Moving!”  I leapt out of cover with my squad, rushing across the intersection before us.  My paws pounded the pavement as I ran, heart pounding in my ears and head low, ignoring the crack of bullets passing too close for comfort.

I made it across the intersection, leaving the line of fire as I made it behind the small warehouse ahead of me.  I pressed myself against the wall, taking a moment to catch my breath.  As I steadied my breathing, I slid open a pouch in my vest with a claw, stabbed the last remaining capsule within and popped it into my mouth.  It dissolved as it hit my tongue, and I felt my exhaustion melt away.

Can’t take another of those, I reminded myself, feeling the tell-tale palpitations as my heart squeezed first too early, then too late.  Arrhythmias are starting; thank Solgalick we’re almost finished, I thought.  Then, arrhythmia or not and ignoring the shortness of breath that went with them, I pushed myself off the wall and moved to the edge of the warehouse, where a few Legionnaires traded fire with the enemy.

I waved at Aaron and his squad across the street, where they’d taken cover behind a workshop.  Then I took a quick peek around the corner, down the street that ran between the two buildings.  Several Feds who’d taken cover behind parked vehicles lay still on the ground, caught by our suppressing fire, while a few others further down the road continued firing back at us.  And a couple hundred tails past them was Battery Forge-East; the last AA battery under attack.

What I saw made me drop my ears flat to my head.  The battery was built like Forge-South; a chain line fence topped with razor wire surrounded a hesco wall surrounding the bunker itself, with low watchtowers, all now rubble, at each corner of the square.  The fence was flat, and the hescos were pocketmarked with plasma burns and bullet holes; those that were destroyed at least. 

Federation soldiers surrounded them on all sides; those who hadn’t begun to fire at us poured fire on the bunker and wall.  From behind the wall I could see the muzzle flashes, too few, of the few Guard and Legionnaires who still held the battery.  It was clear from their last transmission that the Feds had stepped up their attack, desperate to take down the battery for the incoming bombers, and they’d taken a toll on the defenders.

Must be on their last legs, I realized, sending another burst of rounds towards one of the attacking Feds.  Don’t worry guys, help is here!  I wagged my tail as I saw a Fed drop, then ducked back around the corner. I caught Aaron’s eye, and his voice came through my earpiece.

“The defenders look like they’re about to be overrun,” he said, and I flicked my ears in agreement.  “We’ve got to move now.  Leave a few troops here to keep up the pressure, but take the rest and flank left around the warehouse.  Use the shipping containers past the building for cover; they should bring you about a hundred yards short of the fence.  Watch out for the guys they left there.”

Before we lost our last drone, we’d been able to take a quick flight over the approach to the battery.  On either side of the road leading to the battery were buildings, the warehouse and workshop, that we could use for cover.  Directly behind the warehouse, running alongside the road to the battery was a storage yard full of shipping containers, pallets and stacks of barrels.  While it would let us get closer in relative safety, we’d still have to fight past a handful of Feds who’d been left behind to guard the approach.

“What about you?” I asked.

“I’ll go around the workshop,” Aaron replied.  “There’s not much for cover, but better than the road.  Let’s both leave some troops here to keep up the pressure, and try to get to their flanks.  If we catch enough in the crossfire, we should be able to lift enough pressure off the battery for them to get their feet under them.  Sounds good?”

“Works for me!” I replied.  “Let’s get a move on; be safe!”  I turned to the squad strung out behind me, against the wall.  “You and you,” I said, tapping two Legionnaires at random.  “Hold here and keep up the suppressing fire.  How are you for ammo?”

“Few mags left,” one of them said, and before I could say anything, a half dozen full magazines were handed over.  

“Not anymore,” I said, giving him a Human grin.  “The rest of you, on me!  We’re going left, around the building then through the storage yard.  Stay alert; there’s gonna be a few Feds waiting for us.  Push through them, then start putting fire on the ones attacking the battery.  Move!”

I turned and began to move towards the opposite side of the building when a couple of the Legionnaires overtook me and went ahead.  I gave a low huff, but didn’t complain.  They’ve been protective of Aaron and I since we lost [Human-1] Reed and [Arxur-4] Drex, I thought, watching as the new pointman reached the corner of the building and poked their snout around the corner.  After a moment they leaned back and waved us forward.  They don’t want to lose the rest of us.

I followed behind, rounding the corner and through the light fence gate the lead Legionnaire had kicked open.  I pushed through, immediately ducking behind a shipping container as I heard a warning shout.  No sooner did I pull my tail behind than a burst of plasma scorched the concrete where it had lay.

My radio crackled, and Aaron’s voice spoke.  “Keep up the pressure everyone,” he ordered.  “Forge-East, keep holding!  We’ve got eyes on you, and we’re closing the door on the Feds!  We’re almost there, Legionnaires.  We’re going to win this!”  

Damn right we are!  I stuck my rifle around the edge of the shipping container, firing a short burst in the direction the plasma had come.  Across from me, hiding behind a stack of barrels, another Legionnaire rose and opened fire.  “Covering!” they shouted.  “Move up!”

As a pair of Legionnaires moved low towards the next cover, I leaned out and added my fire to theirs.  Spying movement between a couple metal crates, I sent several rounds in that direction.  Most impacted around the gap, but I was rewarded a shriek of pain for my efforts.

Then our radios blared to life, and my breath caught in my throat.  “Break break break!” a panicked voice exclaimed through my earpiece.  “Forge-East to all; scanners detect incoming bombers!  Repeat, bombers incoming, northwest!”

I spun my head, eyes searching the sky, cold fear gripping my heart.  Ahead of us, the battery’s turret rotated atop the bunker, and the heavy dual lasers started firing in the direction indicated, bright red lasers stabbing the sky.  I followed their path and in the distance I spied three dark shapes, dropping down through the early morning clouds.

“Incoming!” I shouted into the radio, instinctively ducking back into cover.  “Three contacts, northwest, moving fast!”  I raised my rifle and took aim at the incoming craft, resisting the urge to fire at the vessels.  They were too far out of range, and our rifles wouldn’t do anything against their armor anyway.  

We’ve got no missile launchers or AA except the battery, I thought, turning my gaze back to the besieged installation.  Keeping them online is our only chance!  “Push through these fucks!”  I ordered my squad.  “We have to relieve the battery!”

I leaned back around the edge of the container, firing at a Kolshian head that had popped out from behind a stack of cinderblocks.  As my bullets shattered the blocks in front, they ducked back out of sight.  “Covering!” I shouted.  “Move!”  To the right, through the fence and across the road, I spied movement; Aaron and his squad advancing past the workshop towards the battery.  

As the enemy bombers screamed closer above us, plasma fire erupted from their guns.  The glowing plasma cut through the sky, splashing against the surface of the bunker and around the weapons mounted atop it.  The AA battery returned fire, and I watched as a line of lasers intersected the first bomber, stabbing deep into the craft.  They hit something critical, and with a flash that lit the sky it exploded.

The lasers shifted to the next bomber as a burst of incoming plasma suddenly scored a direct hit.  There was a noticeable pause before they kept firing, but now stuttering as they tracked the next target across the sky.

Shit, I cursed, moving around the container and dropping behind a pile of empty barrels, quickly reloading my weapon as I did.  I spared a glance back at the battery, and saw a wisp of black smoke rising from the turret, which now seemed to stutter as it tracked its targets across the sky.  Brahk, I cursed.  Must have hit the hydraulics!  Though damaged, the turret’s gunner was still intent to fight, and compensated as best they could to sweep their fire across the enemy bombers, catching the lead bomber.

The dual lasers carved through the armor across its belly opening up its bomb bay, then hit one of the engines.  There was a flash, a plume of smoke, and the bomber began to spin out of control.  I gave a cheer alongside my Legionnaires as the bomber began to spin through the sky. One left! I thought, taking a moment to unleash a burst of gunfire towards a Fed.  One more to go and we’ve won!  From its bay, anti-matter bombs knocked loose plummeted through the sky.  Unarmed, they buried themselves into the earth, unexploded.

The lasers continued trying to track it, but lost their lock as they suddenly froze for just a moment.  It was that moment that let the pilot throw its thrusters on full, suddenly darting out of the path of the laser fire.  They recovered enough control to juke the vessel back and forth, further throwing off the aim of the battery and losing their remaining bombs.  The empty bomber twisted through the air, the pilot having regained further control over the now lighter craft.

Then it happened.  One moment the bomber was evading the laser fire trying to track it across the sky; the next it had ignited its remaining engine, the other trailing smoke across the sky.  I followed its path as its pilot forced the vessel on a path that led straight towards the battery.  It took me a moment, but I suddenly felt my heart drop as I realized their plan.

“Forge-East!” I yelled into my radio, trying to warn them.  “Incoming!”  As the words left my mouth and my eyes followed the bomber, I knew it wouldn’t matter.  With a burst of speed just faster than the obviously damaged laser turrets could track, the bomber shot forward.  Like an arrow it drove itself into the bunker before being engulfed in flames.  A thunderous boom shook the ground and I had to close my eyes to the blinding flash of light.

As I opened my eyes, my jaw fell open in shock as my gaze met the devastation where the battery once stood.  The bottom quarter of the bunker remained, now filled with shattered concrete, twisted steel and fire that sent thick black smoke into the morning air.  The hesco wall was gone; with the bunker as its epicenter, the ground for several dozen tails around the bunker was scorched black.  Of the Legion defenders and their Federation attackers, there was no sign.

My eyes darted to where Aaron had taken his squad to flank, spying him staring in equal shock to what I felt.  But he quickly lifted his rifle and began firing skywards, quickly joined by the rest of his troops, and began to back away.  “Everyone fall back!” I heard him order over the radio.  “Fall back now!”  

“Move!” I ordered, and followed my own command as I spun and sprinted back towards the storage yard’s gate.  I made it through, stopping to unload my magazine towards the few Fed troopers who were still hiding at the far end of the yard.  “Run!”

As they passed me, one of my Legionnaires grabbed my arm and yanked me with them.  I let out a bleat of surprise first, then anger as I tried to bat them off.  “Let go, damnit!” I shouted.  “I can move myself!”  Then the reason for their action became clear as I heard a shouted warning behind me.  I turned to look, and would have froze if the Legionnaire wasn’t almost dragging me with them.

The final bomber had dropped low, now free of the danger that had ended its companions.  Thrusters roared along its bottom, leveling it out as it turned, settling on its final course.  Behind it, two more dropped through the clouds, angling slightly further northeast.  They’re aiming for the Academy! I realized, raising my rifle with one paw and firing uselessly at the speeding craft.

“Forge Academy, enemy bombers incoming!” I heard Aaron yell over the radio.  “Take cover!  Everyone in range of this frequency, take cover!”  We’d passed the warehouse now, and I saw him and his squad round the corner of the workshop at a dead sprint.

Ahead of us, I saw the bomb bay  door of the approaching bomber slid open as it neared us… neared Aaron.  I lowered my rifle and turned towards him, and found myself screaming his name.  “Aaron!  Run!”  I screamed.  “RUN!”  I felt the grip on my arm tighten as I pulled towards Aaron, my Legionnaires scrambling  away from the path of the incoming bomber which now seemed intent on dropping its payload in a path across Forge as it headed towards the Academy.

“Aaron!” I shouted again, my voice drowned out by the bomber as it passed through the sky between us.  Then the first bomb fell, far too close to us.  Time seemed to slow as I watched it fall through the air.  My eyes flicked towards Aaron.  Though we were a few hundred tails apart, I felt our eyes meet.  Then in my ear, his voice, quiet and gentle, came over the radio.

“I love you Somtak,” he said.  

I didn’t get a chance to answer.  Faster than a beat of my heart was a flash that blinded me, a roar that shook my bones, and I felt a wave of heat and pressure…

Error… Error… Memory interrupted… severe trauma detected… subject unconscious.. attempting to recover…

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Pain… PAIN!  My body felt like it was on fire.  There was a sharp pain on either side of my head, and intense burning in both my legs.  Ahh!  I screamed out, internally and externally.  “AAHHHH!”

My eyes snapped open and I let out a bleat of agony.  I saw the sky; thick clouds of black smoke and fire marred the clear blue overhead.  Several shapes, Legion fighters maybe, streaked across the sky.  A dropship appeared, thrusters firing as it came in for a landing.  Why is it so quiet?  Why can’t I hear!?

I felt a strong grip on either shoulder; I caught the sight of two figures dragging me, and felt the scrap of my back across the rough ground below.  Legionnaires, I thought, mind still trying to remember where I was and what had happened.

I lifted my head, pain splitting my skull and nearly blacked out as my vision swam.  I forced my eyes to focus; behind us, moving further away, were several destroyed buildings.  A bit further beyond, I could barely make out the remnants of the AA battery we’d failed to protect.

My memories came rushing back in an instant.  “AARON!” I bleated, loudly enough to surprise my rescuers.  “AARON!!!”

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Voices above and behind me, telling me to calm down, to stop moving.  I ignored them, trying to struggle to my paws to go back, to find him, to help him.  “We have to help him!” I shouted.  “We have to help him!”

I struggled up, body crying in protest, and my vision finally cleared.  The buildings Aaron and I had flanked around were rubble; while mine still had the jagged edges of one demolished by a pressure wave, the workshop looked like a lump of wax that had had a blowtorch taken to it.  And beside it, in a wide circle, the ground had been fused to glass by the antimatter bomb.

“AARON!” I screamed again, my voice breaking into a choked sob.  I dropped my face into my paws, finally seeing my paws.  Each was covered in burns, patches of my wool gone to reveal the bare, orange hued skin below.

That’s when I saw the trail we’d left in our wake.  Behind us, coating debris, dirt and the black road top was a line of orange.  I followed it, eyes widening as I found its source.  Both my legs ended in raw, orange stumps, tourniquets tied tightly around the ends…

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I felt my body land atop a hard surface.  Though vision blurred with tears I could see the interior of a dropship.  Around me I could hear urgent, muffled voices.  There was a bag of fluid hanging from the ceiling, its tubing leading to somewhere on my arm.  My neck was immobilized; I couldn’t move.

The pain had turned to a dull ache, and my vision slowly began to fade.  I felt a mask descend over my snout, and managed to cry out one last weak time.  “Aaron…”

Error… Error… Memory interrupted… subject unconscious… attempting to recover any further memory fragments…

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End memory transcript

Archivists note: Though it would be the greatest success any Federation force could claim against the Free Legion, it would be the Free Legion who would stand victorious in the Battle of Wishful Hope.  Though a victory, however, it was a Pyrrhic one.  Despite inflicting near total losses to the attackers and holding the planet, the Kolshian attack inflicted grievous losses to Free Legion Command.  Most of their officers and training cadres were killed, their main supply and training facilities were destroyed, and hundreds of new and future Legionnaires were killed.  In addition, thousands of refugees and members of the Planetary Guard died as well.

More than anything else, the Battle of Wishful Hope and the destruction of Free Legion Command is considered the turning point of the Free Legion and its affiliated groups.  The best chance to reign in the increasingly radical or rogue elements of the Free Legion, or eliminate those who were unable to be brought back into the fold, was destroyed in a single night.  Without the new generation of Legionnaires to reassert control or destroy them, and the data on where to find them, the rogue elements would grow exponentially in the chaos of the Federation-wide cyber attack that would follow the battle. 

The Cyber Attack, which launched just a few hours after the orbit of Wishful Hope was secured, and the destruction of everyday life it created across the Orion Arm would provide the perfect breeding ground for extremism.  Ground that, thanks to the loss of those who would have thinned the ranks of extremist elements, would now be free to grow unchecked.  Everything that followed; the wars, the violence, the bloodshed, can be traced back to the Battle of Wishful Hope.  That’s where it started; when the heart of the Free Legion was torn out.  

There’s no guarantee that the new Legionnaires would have been able to regain control over the rogue elements and turn them back towards the proper path, to reign in the monster the UN had unleashed.  Perhaps their efforts were doomed from the start.  Perhaps they would only have been able to limit the damage done.  Perhaps they would have even succeeded.

We’ll never know what could have been.  Instead, we know what happened because they never got the chance to try; wars, genocides, and untold levels of suffering across countless worlds.  Had the Kolshian Commonwealth known what they would unleash by their attack on Wishful Hope, their ships would have never set sail.

For further details about the results of the Battle of Wishful Hope, such as casualties and analysis, please see Section XIX, subsection 2, The Battle of Wishful Hope from the completed Bronwen Report; there’s too much to cover in a post-transcript note. -A. Piers, UN Office of Reconciliation

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Memory encrypted… override key enabled… begin decryption…

Access code Epsilon-Zeta-2328-AP
Unauthorized redactions removed… original data restored…

Addendum: Data restored under Article 2.09 of the UNOR by order of the Secretary General.  Original, unaltered transcripts restored and entered as evidence in the Bronwen Report.  -Chief Investigator Andrea Powell, UN Office of Reconciliation

Memory accessed…

Memory Transcription subject: [Arxur-1] Sarkis, The Free Legion, “Free Arxur Commando”
Date [standardized human time]: [Redacted] March 9, 2137, Forge, Wishful Hope

I pressed my back against the wall, chest heaving at the exertion I forced my body to endure.  Arxur were not endurance predators; unlike Humans, we relied on ambush to capture our prey.  On my side, I could feel a trickle of blood run down my scales as the wound, courtesy of a Federation bullet, began to bleed once more.  

Must have opened it on the final run here, I thought, before pushing it from my mind.  I’d been hurt worse before, and I wasn’t going to let a bullet wound slow me down.  Even if that wound’s put a ticking clock on how much longer I can go, I thought.  

We’d been fighting our way across [redacted] Forge ever since we left the western AA battery.  Evidently, not all of the Federation forces were dedicated to attacks on the defenses.  They’d been smart enough, apparently, to task a few units to hunt down and kill any Legion units attempting to reinforce the defenses.

Within the settlement, one such unit had decided that executing civilians would be enough to draw any Legion units out.  My fist clenched involuntarily at the memory.  They’d been wrong; any of us would have seen the trap from a [mile] away.  But that doesn’t make it any better.

Briefly, my thoughts flashed back to when I’d watched, distant and hidden, as the Federation troops executed “tainted” civilians, one after another.  Bullets for the prey, I thought.  Quick, painless.  But for the Arxur they caught, and their prey partners…. I could still hear the agonizing screams echoing in my ears from when the Feds had turned their flamethrowers on their helpless victims.

Everything in me had screamed to do something; to attack, to stop them, to save the civilians.  But that was the defective Arxur in me.  The Legionnaire in me told me that it was a trap; that the roofs on either side of the bunker they’d breached were perfect places to mount machine guns, that the road was a fatal funnel.  That saving the lives of dozens of civilians wasn’t worth as much as protecting the AA defenses, who’d let us save thousands.

I’d pulled us away, hating myself every moment.  We’d tried to bypass them, slipping by under the cover of the screams and the roar of the flamethrowers.  Luck hadn’t been with us; they’d scattered sensors around the surrounding streets, and a single one had been tripped.

Alerted to our presence, the enemy forces had moved to pursue us.  The rest of the night had been spent in a running gunfight; the Feds, outnumbering my small unit, had kept us engaged.  When we stopped to respond to contact, they’d hold us and try to flank.  We’d pull back, they’d assault, and the cycle would repeat.

“Ma’am, we can’t keep doing this,” said [Arxur-2] Zirax, doubled over beside me and taking deep, panting breaths.  “We need to break contact and get to that battery.”

“I know,” I replied, checking my magazine to see how many rounds I still carried.  Half full, I thought.  I’ve got another four mags left before I need to start looking for a Fed gun that fits my hands.

“I’ve tried every trick in the book,” I said.  “And even some I came up with while shaking the Dominion on [redacted] Veruzk.”  Glad the rebels took over that campaign; we’re not made for a drawn out slog.  “I’m open to additional suggestions.”

Reinforcements had finally arrived in orbit; we could see the flashes as our forces fought the Federation fleet high above.  The orbital jamming had finally lifted not long ago as well, and I’d been eager to try to call for assistance.  Instead, the channels were jammed with similar requests; Legion and Guard forces who over-stretched, low on ammo and numbers, many holding on by the tips of their claws.

I’d briefly managed to get in contact with the Major; she’d broken through the enemy forces surrounding the Academy, though at great cost.  She and Colonel Jackson had managed to get reinforcements and resupply to Forge Cannon, the closest orbital defense cannon, and were now on their way to the eastern AA battery.  However, the majority of the Legion forces were still fighting their way through the enemy troops entrenched around them, and orbital reinforcements had yet to make it to our area.  For the moment, we were still on our own.

With the arrival of our ships in orbit, the Federation troops had only become more desperate in their attacks.  Probably want to try to finish us off before they lose the chance, I thought.  I was shocked at how the Federation troops had been able to not only keep up with us, but how effectively they actually fought.  I’d long abandoned the idea that these were normal Federation troops, or even what passed as their version of special forces.  No, they’re too evenly matched with us, I thought.  They’re countering our every move too easily, adapting too quickly.  It’s like they were designed specifically with us in mind. 

“I’ve got just one,” Zirax said, straightening up and interrupting my thoughts.  “We stop running.  Pick a spot, dig in our heels, and hold our ground.  Let them come to us, and we either kill them, or they kill us.”  I rolled my eyes, and was about to snap at him when he finished, voice soft.  “Some of us, at least.”

He fell silent, and watched me as I realized what he meant.  “We won’t have enough to relieve the battery,” I said quietly.  “And I don’t know when help will arrive.”

“We won’t have enough to relieve them anyway if we can’t get away from this kill-team,” Zirax replied.  “And reinforcements will get here; I have faith they will.  But we can’t afford to wait.”

Around us, the rest of my team were listening in.  I swept my gaze across them, seeing the acceptance in their eyes.  Ancestors he’s right, I admitted to myself.  Better a few reinforcements than none.

I sighed wearily.  “Volunteers,” I said.  Without hesitation, the remaining [redacted] Custodians stepped forward.  I looked at them a moment, then back at Zirax.  “Defectives,” I said, letting out a dry chuckle.  “You’re a credit to your species.”

Zirax gave me a nod.  “We fight for the Legion but serve the Living Chains,” he said.  “Our beliefs call for atonement, and we have much to atone for.”  He raised his rifle to the ready position.  “I see no better way than helping save thousands of those we once wronged.”

I clapped a hand on his shoulder, and he did the same.  “Send them to hell,” I said against the lump in my throat.  “And thank you, Knight-Monk.”  I let go, then turned away.  “[redacted] Commandos,” I said, addressing those who would continue on with me.  “Move out.”

Thirteen of us broke off, rushing silently into the night while Zirax and the Custodians chose the location of their last stand.  I kept my head forwards, resisting the urge to turn around, even when gunfire erupted behind us.  The echoes of the battle followed us as we slipped through the dark, empty streets, moving quickly now that we were finally free of our pursuers.

The familiar chatter of Dominion rifles, distinct from those of the Federation, dwindled as we got further and further away.  Each rifle silenced was a dagger in my heart, as behind us our comrades died.  Before long I counted four, then three, then finally a single rifle answered the Federations fire in kind.  Finally, that too fell silent.

I took a moment to squeeze my eyes shut, and whisper a silent prayer to the Ancestors to protect Zirax and the others on whatever their final journey may be.  I hope you took enough with you to make it worth it, I thought, as we continue to make our way towards the AA battery.  Thank you, Custodians.

Time advance: twenty minutes

My muscles burned, and I reluctantly popped the final pill in my mouth, feeling it dissolve as it hit my stomach.  Abruptly, I found myself filled with energy; my exhaustion became a memory, the wound in my side didn’t hurt so much, the burn in my muscles disappeared, my body suddenly felt hot, and my heart began to race so fast it hurt.

As my final stim gave me the boost to continue, I was reminded that they were not meant for repeated use, especially in such a short window of time.  They won’t kill us today, I thought.  I hope.  I glanced at the remaining Arxur around me, each of us pushing our bodies over the limit of which we could endure.  Just as long as we can save that battery.

Our feet pounded the pavement as we jogged at a pace our species couldn’t sustain without artificial means.  We’d been far behind schedule for reaching the battery, thanks to the Federation kill-team, and the use of the combat stims, a small supply of which each of us carried for emergencies, had been the only option we’d seen to help us make up that time.  

As a result we’d crossed twice the distance in half the time, and were quickly nearing our destination.  I knew that the overuse of the drugs would be to our detriment; the over-exertion of our muscles, our hearts, would require extended hospital stays if we survived.  And that’s if we don’t push ourselves into an arrhythmia and die before then, I thought grimly.  

Several of us had poured a canteen of water over our heads, doing our best to cool our rapidly heating bodies.  I wonder how many people wish they could sweat like the Humans do? I wondered, dumping my own canteen out over my head.  This is a run made for them; they’d probably already have made it to the battery, stim or not.

We’d heard distant gunfire a few minutes ago; now it was louder as we grew closer, and seemed to have become much more intense.  In the sky ahead of us, we could see the flashes of the battery’s guns, still firing after all this time.  I reviewed the map of Forge I’d memorized in my head.  [Redacted] Danika Road, I thought, as a familiar curve branching off from the street we ran upon came into view.  There!

“Up that road is the battery,” I panted to my remaining troops.  “We’re almost there!”  I led us up the road, ducking into the forest strip that ran along either side to conceal our approach.  Through the trees ahead of us, lit by a few spotlights, several of them riddled with bullets and missing bulbs, and muzzle flashes, was Battery Forge-South.

I knelt behind a bush, concealed in the shadows by my scales, and quickly took in the situation, turning off my night vision as the sun began to rise.  It didn’t take me long to realize it wasn’t good.  This battery was more developed than Forge-West, having been here longer.  It was still the same squat concrete bunker and emergency generator, its dual laser repeaters and now empty missile launcher sitting at the peak of its second story.  However, a short wall of hesco barriers encircled the perimeter, with sandbags and razor wire lining their top.  Further out was the fence the other had shared, though this one had been nearly flattened. 

I could see enemy troops, live and dead alike ringing the battery.  The fire was heavier on the western side, and it appeared that there was fire being exchanged within the perimeter itself.  Around the rest of the battery the fire was more sparse, but it still appeared as though the remaining [redacted] Wishful Hope Planetary Guard forces were still outnumbered by their attackers.  The Federation troops, like those we’d fought earlier, seemed to be desperate, trying again and again to advance to the battery.

“They’re being overrun,” I said with a hiss.  They’re throwing everything they can to take the battery before help arrives.  I quickly waved my remaining troops close, and pointed at one of them.  “[Arxur-3] Rivka,” I said, pointing at six others.  “Congrats, you’re now squad leader of Bravo team.”  The young Legionnaire blinked in surprise, then nodded.

“Bravo team, lay down covering fire for the rest of us, and we’ll bound to the walls,” I said.  “No stopping; not for the wounded, not for the dead.  Once we reach the wall, we go over the top immediately and clear inside the wire.  Hit hard, hit fast, and hopefully we’re not too late.”

I keyed my radio, tuning to the frequency of the local Guard forces.  Hoping they’d hear me, I keyed my mic.  “Break break break,” I said, the urgency I’d been trying to hide finally slipping into my voice.  “Battery Forge-South, this is Dagger Team, Arxur Commando,” I said.  “We’re assaulting from the south.  Yes, we’re Arxur; don’t shoot us.”

“Rivka,” I said, looking back to my now second-in-command.  “Start laying down covering fire!  The rest of you, with me!  Bounding advance to the wall, go!”

Rivka and her team spread out, rifles coming to life as they opened fire towards the battery.  Ahead, there was movement from the front; a pair of figures dropped limply, while another hit the ground deliberately.  There was a single flash from them and then no more.  

As they lay down a hail of suppressing fire, I dropped to all fours, rifle dragging below my stomach, and dug my claws into the damp earth as I threw myself forward.  
I advanced several [yards] in seconds, dropping to my stomach and bringing my rifle forward.  I looked down my sights, set my crosshairs over what I thought was movement, and opened fire.  “Covering!” I reported, as the rest of my team joined me.

“Moving!” Rivka replied, and the gunfire behind us stopped, replaced by thundering claws as they made their way forward.  By now bullets had begun to kick up dirt in front of us, the Federation attackers having realized the danger that had arrived.  One of Rivka’s team grunted and stumbled, kept moving for another few feet, then fell and lay still.  “Covering!” Rivka called as she hit the deck with her remaining troops, her call audible only through my earpiece because of the deafening gunfire.

I pushed myself to my feet, staying in a forward crouch as I pushed forward.  I dropped an empty magazine, replacing it with a fresh one as I brought my rifle up.  I was vaguely aware of the burn in my muscles; the stimulants starting to wear off.  I passed Rivka’s team, thundered over the flattened fence and reached the wall.

Without pausing I leapt, claws reaching the top of the hesco and pulling myself over the top.  I used my momentum to throw myself over the barrier; from my left, I saw blood bloom across the chest of the Arxur beside me as they rose above the top of the hesco.  They dropped backwards out of sight.

I landed within the hesco barrier, atop the gravel that covered the ground.  Ahead was the bunker, several Federation troops stacked up on the door, breaching charge in place.  To my right, I spied the few remaining Guard, firing from a fighting position against the eastern wall.  And firing at those few remaining Guard, behind a pile of sandbags, were several Federation troops.

I planted my feet and launched myself forward towards the enemy soldiers attacking the surviving Guard, sending gravel flying through the air behind me with every step.  I was vaguely aware of the rest of my team charging beside me, while Rivka headed towards the battery.  It wasn’t quiet; the Feds would know that we were coming.  But there’s not a damn thing they can do about it.   Heads turned and weapons rose at my approach, and I heard a shouted warning.  There were a few panicked shots, but by then I was too close.

I felt an impact on my chest, a jolt of pain erupted on my chest, and I heard a dull crack as the ceramic plate on my chest broke.  There was another pain on my shoulder, lighter this time, as another bullet deflected off my shoulder pad.  My hands hit the ground one last time, and then I kept into the air, jaws open, claws extended, and crashed into the Federation troops.

I landed atop a Kolshian near the center of their formation, my jaws closing around their head while I stabbed my claws into their sides and knocked them to the ground.  Their vests are thin on the sides, was what crossed my mind as my claws sliced through muscle and flesh, their tentacles slapping uselessly against my sides.

We hit the ground hard, and I felt their body give as I landed on them with all my weight.  My claws tore free, and I planted my now free hands on the ground.  At the same time I closed my jaws, feeling my teeth sink into the sides of their head, blood pouring from the wounds.  I jerked my jaws up and then down and to the right hard.

Muscles and ligaments popped, skin tore, and the body was pulled partly out from beneath me, before the corpse's head tore free with a wet pop and a spray of purple blood*.*  I used the momentum of my head to pivot, jaws opening to let the head fly free.  As my head swung, I swung my tail hard to the side, slamming into another squid with the sound of a breaking water balloon.  The impact threw them back, and my tail sailed over them as they fell.

Around me, chaos reigned.  There were pained screams, panicked yells, rumbling growls and thundering roars as the rest of my team made contact with the Federation troops.  I saw one of my comrades atop a Kolshian, blood dripping from their claws and vest painted a dark purple.  Another one jerked their head back, tearing half of a face away from another attacker.

I turned, planted my feet, and pounced on another soldier as they scrambled backwards, away from the slaughter.  As I descended up them, I saw the pistol in their tentacles, too close to evade.  Between us was a flash that blinded me for a moment, and I felt a sharp pain that punched deep into my gut, just below my vest.

I landed atop the Kolshian, claws tearing at their chest and face as I did.  I lifted one hand, the other steadying my body, and slashed at them again and again.  The second slash tore through their vest, and the third tore into the flesh below.  By the fifth, they no longer moved, and the gravel beneath their mutilated corpse was stained with blood.

I rolled off the body to my back, hissing as pain cut through my body and exhaled deeply.  Fuck, I thought, gritting my teeth as I looked at the wound: blood trickled from a neat hole in my stomach.  On my side, my earlier wound had completely opened once more.  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

With my right hand I found the grip of my rifle and brought it up one-handed, while with the other trembling hand I tore open the IFAK secured to my thigh.  I spied movement: I swung my rifle, lined up the barrel with a Kolshian approaching from the side.  I fired, sending several rounds stitching up their abdomen, their chest and finally their face as the recoil sent the barrel skywards.

I lowered my rifle, resting it in my vest as I kicked my feet, propelling myself behind the sandbags and the little cover it provided.  I focused on moving, trying to push the image of the trail of dark red blood I left in my wake out of my mind.  

Better cover than nothing, I thought as I reached the sandbags, digging into the contents of the IFAK.  Consciously aware of the warm, wet sensation trickling down my sides, I withdraw a large syringe.  I brought it to my mouth and ripped off the cap, spitting it to the side.  Before I could let myself think about it, I took a deep breath and exhaled, jabbing the blunt tip of the syringe into the hole in my stomach as I did.

I let out a roar of agony as the syringe injected rapidly expanding trauma foam into the wound.  For a moment it stung, but the sensation quickly faded, along with the pain from the wound itself.  I discarded the syringe and pulled a dressing from the kit, using my teeth to peel back the film before pressing it over the wound on my side.  There was a warmth as it sealed to the wound.

Okay, good enough, I told myself, rolling off my back onto all fours, then pushing myself shakily back to my feet.  We were still in the middle of battle, so I stayed behind the sandbags.  I pulled my rifle up, dropping into a crouch with a grunt of pain.  Ahead of me, the bunker door was ajar, one of the hinges blown free.  

Several bodies lay on the ground before the open door.  Most of them were Kolshians, but three Arxur, including Rivka, lay motionless among the dead.  It appeared that while they’d closed the distance to take advantage of our superior close quarters combat abilities, someone had opened fire at the whole group, friend and foe alike.  I felt a stab in my heart at the sight of the kid dead on the ground, but forced the sadness from my mind.  Focus.

“Bunker!” I shouted, voice strained and my breath short by the foam that had filled my abdomen.  It would staunch the bleeding from the wound in my gut, but was probably pressing against my diaphragm, making it harder to breathe.  I wasn’t sure if anyone else heard my warning, so I forced one foot in front of the other as I started towards the open bunker.  

As I approached, I saw flashes from within, gunfire echoing through the open door.  A body fell backwards; another dead Federation soldier, several bullet wounds leaking blood.  There were the sounds of struggle from within, mixed with heavy breathing and grunts of pain.  Crews still fighting, I thought, forcing my feet to move faster, panting harder as the strain began to take its toll.

I could hear the thunder of my heart in my ears, and darkness appeared around the edges of my vision.  There was an exclamation ahead, a final gunshot, and the sounds of struggle stopped.  No one appeared at the door, and I assumed the worst.  Crew must have gone down fighting; I need to get there now!

Another pained step, and another, then another.  The darkness edged closer, and my heartbeat thundered louder.  By now I was taking deep breaths, forcing my lungs to expand.  Gravel crunched under my feet as I neared, rifle at the ready.  Inside the doorway, there was a flash, and I recoiled involuntarily as heat… pain…

Memory terminated
Termination cause: transcription subject expired
Memory Transcription concluded

First

Previous

I was swimming away from a bear and swam past some kelp, and realized that it’s weird that we can’t eat it. Humans have eaten kelp for millennia, with evidence in South America, Asia, and Europe.

I can definitely see it being broken because of how common it is, but that could be balanced by making it fill your hunger stats only a little. It could be a helpful early game survival food, and maybe helping the lean times in winter as well, especially if dried.

Memory encrypted… override key enabled… begin decryption…

Access code Epsilon-Zeta-2328-AP
Unauthorized redactions removed… original data restored…

Addendum: Data restored under Article 2.09 of the UNOR by order of the Secretary General.  Original, unaltered transcripts restored and entered as evidence in the Bronwen Report.  -Chief Investigator Andrea Powell, UN Office of Reconciliation

Memory accessed…

Memory Transcription subject: [Takkan-1] Sarn, Free Legion Fleet
Date [standardized human time]: [Redacted] March 9, 2137, Tempest (formerly the Serenity**), salvaged Federation cruiser, in orbit of Wishful Hope**

Time seemed to speed up after we dropped the beacon.  The [redacted] Tempest wove through the battlefield, trading fire with enemy ships, emptying her missile tubes and taking hit after hit for each she gave in turn.  I glanced at the mission clock after our railgun hulled another enemy ship.  It’s been [fifteen minutes]! I realized with a start.  I could have sworn it’s been longer than that!

The Tempest suddenly jolted, far rougher than previously hits, and I clutched the straps of my command chair.  “Damage report!” I called, already expecting the worst.  That was too big for just a railgun slug, I thought, red lights starting to flash.  They must have hit the starboard missile tubes.

My fears were confirmed as [Yotul-1] Jec looked up from his station.  “Impact on starboard missile tubes,” he confirmed.   “If they weren’t destroyed outright they blew in their tubes.  Significant hull breach on Decks One to Three, multiple bulkheads sealed.  Armor in sections two to seven gone.”

Jec turned to fix me with an eye.  “Sir, we can’t take another hit like that,” he warned.

I cursed, my eyes flying over the display in front of me.  Missiles are almost gone, we’ve lost three plasma turrets, and the railgun magazine is almost empty, I thought.  Armor shredded, shields failing.  We’ve got almost nothing left.

I had only ten ships remaining under my command, and if the Tempest was anything to go by, they too were surely holding together with spite and prayers.  It didn’t appear that [Arxur-1] Fissal or [Arxur-2] Durz were doing any better from a glance in their directions; Commonwealth ships outnumbered them both, their forces having been torn apart by attrition.

Meanwhile, the Kolshians still had plenty of intact ships left.  A look at the display showed me dozens of intact vessels, many of which had begun to break off from their engagements with the Legion ships and return to their positions over Wishful Hope.  Concerningly, I saw several others on headings toward where the defense cannons had previously kept them away.

More cannons must have been taken down, I realized.  They wouldn’t try to close otherwise.  Task Force Ranger, who’d tried to keep the enemy away from the planet, had been reduced to burnt hulks and scattered debris drifting silently through the vacuum.  We’d lost contact with Captain [Gojid-1] Rekl’s cruiser, and the lack of escape pods gave me little hope.  There’s nothing to stop them.

“All forces,” I ordered, activating my radio.  There’s not a lot we can do, but something is better than nothing.  And maybe we can keep them from bombarding the surface for a few more minutes.  “Enemy forces have begun to disengage and head for the planet again; looks like we’ve lost more of the ground defenses during our fight.”

“There’s not many of us left,” I admitted somberly.  “But while we may lack the numbers, our duty has not diminished.”  I let my words hang in the air for a moment.  

“There are thousands of our comrades still on the surface,” I said.  “And thousands of refugees who came to us for safety.  We have a duty to our brothers and sisters, to those refugees who put their lives in our paws, to do all we can to protect them.”

I cleared my throat.  “[redacted] Task Force Legion, disengage from your current fight and move to intercept the vessels headed towards the planet,” I said, knowing I was ordering us to our deaths.  We'll last longer staying close to the remaining drone ships, but only minutes if we break away and try to intercept the ones headed for the planet, I thought.

I looked at the nearest Commonwealth ship headed for Wishful Hope, as the Tempest turned her bow to pursue.  I could see the other survivors, now numbering eight, break away from the cluster of enemy drone ships beside us.  Already enemy fire trailed after us in a deadly storm of plasma and missiles.  

I saw my last heavy cruiser, already trailing behind, suddenly fall back and turn to present her battered side to the incoming fire.  “We’ll cover you for the first volley,” her captain said over the radio, as the cruiser's remaining point-defense opened fire with everything they had left.  “Good luck, Legionnaires.  [redacted] Cradle’s Atonement out.”

I switched to the cameras, and forced myself to watch as the Atonement shot across the stars behind the rest of the Legion survivors.  As her point-defense lasers turned incoming missiles into clouds of expanding gas and vaporized metal, she began to dance through the vacuum… straight into the incoming plasma fire.

She took the first just aft of her bow, the superheated fire boiling away the top of their armor as it burned its way through.  The next three she took in quick succession; her port side, just forward of the engines, then near the bow again.  The heavy cruiser shook with each impact, the vaporized metal and escaping gases from new rents in her hull forming a tail like that of a comet behind her.

She managed to intercept another ten plasma bolts; many more soared past.  But the cloud of missiles fired in the wake of our disengagement, perhaps hundreds, were whittled down to only a few dozens.  Of those, many more were destroyed by the cruiser's starboard point-defense as they shot past.

Then the Atonement died.  A final plasma bolt, the last she’d intercept, slammed into her hull, cutting through the now exposed armor and laminate underlayer like a sharp knife through star fruit.  From the starboard side, escaping atmosphere ignited, adding to the fire that trailed in her wake.  Then, unable to take anymore, the heavy cruiser disappeared in a flash of light.  When it faded, nothing was left of the Atonement but an expanding cloud of atoms.

Their sacrifice had bought us precious time.  We skipped across the upper atmosphere, burning our armor away to drag a little more speed from our engines.  We managed to put ourselves ahead of the Kolshian ships with the planet at our back.  Together, we formed a thin, ragged line above the planet; one last line between Wishful Hope and destruction.

Several ships had accelerated towards us, readying their weapons.  They don’t seem concerned with our attempt to block their advance on the planet.  Not that we’re much of a blocker, I thought, as several ships opened fire.  Just flies to swat from the air before the picnic, I thought.  “All forces, fire at will,” I said, watching the enemy plasma and missiles cross the gulf of space towards us.  “It’s been an honor to serve beside you; now let’s take as many of these bastards with us as we can.”

Several things happened in the next heartbeat.  First, the Tempest’s collision warning sounded, and the sensors lit up like the trees the Humans had brought inside during their December holiday.  Next, the view of the rapidly approaching plasma and missiles disappeared, replaced by a wall of metal that bristled with weapons.  Then that view itself was obscured as shields flared from the impact of plasma and missiles on the other side.  Finally, the helmsman, not waiting for orders, pushed the helm down, diving the Tempest out of the way of whatever had suddenly appeared in our path.

The fuck was that! I exclaimed in my head, though I had also apparently yelled it aloud because Jec answered, “Help, Captain!  That’s our help!”  Finally, the Tempest ceased its evasive maneuvering so that I could finally lay my sight on the metal behemoth that had arrived on the battlefield.  I felt my breath catch as my eyes widened in shock and awe.  Protector’s Mercy…

Above us was the largest warship I’d ever seen, with dozens of additional ships exiting FTL around it.  The outline suggested whatever it was had started its life as a bulk freighter; aside from that suggestion, nothing else remained of whatever it had been before.  It was six times larger than the largest Federation cruiser, covered with heavy armor and redundant shield emitters that flashed as they compensated for the fire it had begun taking.  Across its body, encased in bulbous protrusions of armor plate, plasma turrets and missiles fired into space, while point-defense lasers flashed, cutting down incoming missiles.  There was a glow from its bow, and three railguns fired at the Kolshian fleet.

The radio crackled, and a commanding voice came over the radio, broadcasting on all bands.  “All Free Legion forces,” the voice announced.  “This is the [redacted] Legio Invicta, of the [redacted] Void Rangers Assault Fleet.  The Kolshians have brought their Shadow Fleet to our home; we’ll see to it that none survive to tell this tale.  Void Rangers; burn them from the skies!”

In only a few moments the tide of battle had suddenly and conclusively turned.  Painted in my tactical display were what seemed to be hundreds of ships; cruisers, escorts, modified freighters and cargo ships, and fast, nimble patrol ships.  Around them, swarms of fighters, drone and manned alike, took to the vacuum.  The Invicta had arrived at the heart of the battle with her attendants, while even more ships had arrived and surrounded the remaining vessels of the Shadow Fleet.

My radio came to life, and the voice I’d heard over the radio spoke.  “Admiral Sarn,” the familiar voice, one I’d not hear in months, said.  “I apologize for our tardiness; you seem to have done your best in our absence, but your fight is over.  Rally at the coordinates I transmit with Captain Durz and Crusader Fissal.  I will have aid ships waiting to assist you.  We will deal with the remaining Kolshian ships.”

Thank you, Mother Protector, I silently prayed, shoulders sagging as I let out a sigh of relief.  “Helm, bring us about,” I said, turning an eye to them.  I turned to fix the navigator with the other.  “Set a course for the coordinates the Invicta are sending us.  Comms?  Notify the rest of the task force our new orders.”

I brought my attention back to the voice on the radio.  “Task Force Legion moving to coordinates,” I said.  “I don’t think you’ll need it, but good luck dealing with the rest of the Kolshians.  Give them hell, Admiral[Krakotl-1] Kelsim.”

Memory Transcription subject: [Krakotl-1] Kelsim, the Free Legion, “Void Rangers” Assault Fleet
Date [standardized human time]: [Redacted] March 9, 2137, Legio Invicta (former name unknown), modified Legion battleship, in orbit of Wishful Hope

Other than the faint distortion across the cameras, I barely noticed the Kolshian plasma fire as it slammed into the starboard shields.  There were some shakes, and the shields flickered with every impact, but none of the plasma bolts even dampened their strength.  They’re holding up better than I’d expected, I thought, taking note of their status indicators; all green.  It had taken me some time to get used to the Humans color coding, different as it was from most of the Federation.

Best not to test how long they’ll stay that way, I thought, shifting my weight upon my perch.  The Legio Invicta, the pride of the [redacted] Void Rangers, constructed in secret ever since we’d started massing our fleet, a warship meant to have no equals across the stars… wasn’t complete yet.  Half her guns didn’t fire, most of her missile tubes were empty, and her railguns had fired only twice before today.  The original engines of the [redacted] Orisca-class freighter we’d built into the Invicta hadn’t yet been replaced; for now she crawled through space slower than a newly hatched chick.  But the Feds don’t know that, I thought.

When we’d heard of the attack on Wishful Hope, the Void Rangers had scrambled to respond.  I’d been the one to insist that it was time to bring the full fight of our fleet to bear, and the one to ask for the Invicta to deploy as well.  It had taken some arguing with the engineers and shipwrights, and with my co-Admiral and the other leader of the Void Rangers, Admiral [Takkan-2] Eria, before our flagship set sail.  Whether truly ready for battle or not, the arrival of this monster will do more to break the Feds morale than a thousand ships, I’d argued.  As I examined the display, I was pleased to see I’d been right.

Thanks to the beacons dropped by Sarn and the other Captains, my fleet had been able to drop out of FTL surrounding the attacking Shadow Fleet ships.  I’d taken the Invicta out directly between Wishful Hope and the enemy ships, drawing all the attention towards us with our sudden appearance.  Our appearance had bought the rest of the fleet, exiting FTL moments after us, several extra seconds that had been well worth it; appearing at the rear of the enemy formations, my vessels cut into them before they realized they were under attack. 

I swept my gaze around me; unlike the tactical displays of most warships, this one was projected in a holographic field all around me,  when I looked “up,” I was looking wherever up was on the Invicta.  When I looked down I was looking down, port I was looking port, etc.  I truly had a complete view of the battlefield.

Far to starboard, I watched [redacted] the Second Flotilla envelope part of the Commonwealth ships.  As I watched, “wolfpacks” of patrol ships wove through the drones, pouncing on damaged vessels and tearing them apart with rapid-fire cannons and missiles while escorts and cruisers battered down their shields.  The Kolshians tried to fight back but had quickly begun to panic as they realized they were surrounded, outnumbered, and faced with a monster of a warship.

I zoomed in on another fight, and saw the [redacted] Third Flotilla had exited FTL around the side of some of the Commonwealth vessels; those who made it through their net being pounced upon by the flotillas' own wolfpacks.  I watched with satisfaction as an enemy escort, shields down, was systematically disassembled by the nimble patrol ships, finally exploding as its reactor was cut open and destroyed.

“Helm, bring us in,” I ordered, activating my radio.  Goddess knows it’ll take us a while to make contact.  “[redacted] First Flotilla, this is Admiral Kelsim.”  Eat your heart out, Kalsim, I thought.  The bastard who’d let Nishtal burn, and from what my mother told me was a distant cousin, hadn’t made it above Captain.  It gave me a degree of pleasure to know that I’d exceeded my distant relative by fighting against everything he stood for.  And everything he killed our family and our homeworld for.  

“First Flotilla, make your way towards the drone fleet,” I said.  “Let’s clear them out so we can move on to the rest of them.”  Drones are great for numbers, but they’ll never replace real beings' instincts, I thought.  Especially when they’re held back by the Federation's foolish beliefs on predators.  Still dangerous though, so best to put them down now.

The remaining Kolshian forces had been concentrated in three groups; each having been fighting one of the Free Legion Fleet task forces.  The drones were ahead of us, trapped between us and the Commonwealth ships under attack by the Second Flotilla.  Those Commonwealth ships, heavily engaged, had started trying to break past the Second, without luck. The last cluster, fully engaged and encircled by the Third, was close to the northern pole.

“Captain [Gojid-2] Wirsa,” I said, turning my attention to the captain of the Invicta.  While I was in overall command of the fleet, Wirsa had the privilege to actually command the enormous warship.  “I leave command of the Invicta to you,” I said.  “Keep those railguns firing until we can close into range for the plasma and missiles.”

“Aye sir,” Wirsa replied, a clenched paw coming to his fist in a quick salute.  He turned away, barking orders at the fire control station for the railguns and the navigators, while I turned my attention back to the wider fight.  We’re going slowly enough that we’ll get plenty of railgun shots downrange, I thought.  Good practice for the gunners, at least.

I felt a faint thrum thrum thrum as the triple railguns, mounted along the Invicta’s spine, opened fire.  I turned my attention towards their targets, highlighted red on my display.  I tapped them, bringing up the view of the enemy ships from the external cameras.  

Three enemy ships appeared before me; each one of the remaining drone ships.  Before they were able to react, the railgun slugs hit them.  The rounds, far heavier than typically carried by cruisers and designed to expand upon impact, punched through the armor of the drones like it was paper.  Each ship, its interior torn apart as the slugs expanded, exploded in unison, showering the ships nearby with debris.   

Slowly, the Invicta lumbered forward, its underpowered engines straining to move its titanic bulk.  After the first few shots, the thrum of the cannons came faster and faster.  I imagined what the Feds would see; a titanic vessel, slowly, inexorably approaching.  And there’s the panic, I thought, seeing enemy formations beginning to scatter as some ships decided it was time to flee.

More plasma splashed against our shields, the energy dissipating across them.  A railgun round hit us; I felt the ship shake, so I connected with one of the external drones we used to inspect the hull.  The impact site was obvious;  a clean, round hold on the port side of our bow with spiderweb cracks spiraled from the center.  The slug had punched into the armor, but hadn’t gone through.  Exterior ceramic composite works well, I noted.  

Movement from the Kolshian lines drew my gaze.  I looked, and saw that the enemy forces had begun to move; aside from the panicking ships that darted back and forth without direction.  The drones threw themselves forward, forming wedges with manned Commonwealth vessels protected within.  Behind them, others turned and threw themselves with reckless abandon at the ships of the Second Flotilla.

What are you doing? I wondered, examining the enemy movements.  The drone ships accelerated, faster and faster, and began to fire everything they had with what seemed to be no regard to aiming.  They’re going to try to rush us; concentrate fire in one spot to break through, I realized.  We can’t let them.

“All forces,” I snapped, keying my mic.  “Focus all fire on the approaching enemy ships!  They’re going to try to break past us; don’t let them!  First Flotilla, fire at will!”  

Around the Invicta, the rest of the flotilla filled the vacuum with plasma, lasers, missiles, and railgun shots.  Enemy ship after enemy ship was struck; shields failed, armor was shredded, hulls were cracked.  Explosions dotted space as the Kolshian vessels were cut apart, but they kept coming.

As the Invicta killed another three vessels with its railguns, the crew switched to plasma as the enemy neared.  I watched a barrage of plasma wash over the bow of a Commonwealth cruiser.  The shields flashed and died, and the armor on the bow melted and ran like wax.  Finally cutting through, the plasma burned its way through the core, and the ship exploded.

As the enemy neared, my feathers rose in alarm.  They’re not closing in to concentrate their fire, I realized with a start, incredulous.  They are the weapons!  They’re going to ram through us!  “Captain!” I exclaimed, seeing the rapid approach of the enemy, and the heading of several of their ships.

“I see it sir,” Wirsa replied, voice tight.  “All hands,” he said, voice booming over the intercom.  “Brace for impact!”  Overhead, the collision alert sounded.

With a final burst of speed, the drone ships reached our lines.  They plowed into our formation, the drones in the lead.  I saw three of my ships explode as the drones collided with them head on, while others had their armor torn off or hulls crumpled, tumbling out of control.  “Brace!” The Captain called, and I saw the ship who’d laid its sights on us.

One of the cylindrical drone ships, fire and atmosphere pouring from within its hull and its armor cracked, drove itself into the Invicta.  I lost my balance at the impact, saved from falling only by the straps that held me on my perch.  The Invicta, though larger than the ships who’d hit us, wasn’t immune to physics.  We spun horizontally, bow after stern, as our thrusters and engines fired to correct us.

“Damage report!” I heard the Captain shout urgently as the ship began to right itself, red lights flashing across the bridge.  I didn’t hear the answer; I was focused on the enemy forces who’d gone against everything we expected of how Federation troops would act.  Fuck, these Shadow Fleet bastards know how to put up a fight!  Much better than any Feds we’ve fought.

The suicidal charge of the drone ships had accomplished their goal; a gap had formed within the First Flotilla formation, and several manned ships surged past us towards the planet.  I watched in shock then quickly growing horror as the Commonwealth ships pushed past.  Already recovered from the shock attack, our ships had turned about, pouring fire at the enemy.

“All forces, after them!” I ordered.  I watched as several cruisers, reaching the upper atmosphere, began flinging antimatter warheads towards the surface with wild abandon.  They fired without aiming and without regard to the fire from the First Flotilla behind them, or the several plasma bolts that rose from the surface, each punching holes through their hulls, if they didn’t outright destroy them.

The Invicta finally righted itself, bringing its guns to bear on the enemy, and its gunners opened fire with a vengeance.  Wolfpacks swarmed around them, weapons tearing at the enemy warships like their Terran namesakes.  The Commonwealth ships, their backs turned, withered under the combined fire of the battleship and its smaller companions.  Shields flashed and died, armor vaporized, and reactors exploded.  But even as they died, the enemy ships tried to launch their warheads at the planet below.

I watched the enemy vessels, and the surface below at which they disgorged their payloads.  There’s nothing there, I realized.  Nothing they haven’t already bombed to glass.  I wouldn’t be surprised if the Kolshians wished to glass the entire planet; that’s how the Federation conducted terraforming, after all.  But this bombing seemed too wild, too obvious.  They aren’t even aiming, I thought.  Like they’re trying to draw our eyes away from something.

I zoomed in to the mass of Commonwealth ships, many of whom were now paying for their attempts with their lives.  One cruiser, hit by our railgun in the engines, ballooned out as the slug burst through it.  Flames erupted from within, bursting through where the hull had split open, before it finally exploded.  Beside it, another, its shields down, was torn apart by the explosion, split from bow to stern.

Then I saw it; beyond the failing shields and vaporized armor, past the dying, desperate ships, was a single, solitary cruiser.  Its shields flickered weakly, barely holding, its armor burned and scoured but largely intact.  It had moved ahead of the others, their futile actions letting it escape our notice for a few precious moments.  A few moments I saw, that allowed them to launch bombers from their hangars.

“All forces,” I said, activating my radio and highlighting the cruiser.  “Enemy bombers launching from the cruiser past the ones bombing the planet!  Fighters, get after them!”  I turned my head.  “Captain; kill that ship!”

Fighters surged past us, dodging, mostly successfully, the fire pouring from the few remaining Kolshian ships.  They dove into the atmosphere, hulls glowing red as they pursued the enemy bombers making their way towards where gaps had been made in the planet's anti-air coverage.  There were dozens of them, but the bombers had a head start.  Too much of a head start.

There was a thrum that ran through the Invicta.  I watched as the cruiser, its final mission complete, shields gone and armor burned away as plasma slammed into its unprotected hull.  There was a flash as the Invicta’s railgun round struck the vessel, and its armor crumpled inwards before the ship exploded in a flash of light.

My talons dug into the perch I stood upon as I silently swore and cursed myself.  The Kolshians suicidal gambit had worked; partially at least.  As the last of their capital ships burned in the orbit of Wishful Hope, multiple bombers dove into the planet on a one way trip to try and achieve the aims of the attack.  “Open a channel to the ground, all frequencies,” I said, glancing at communications.  After a moment they gave me a wave, indicating they’d done so.

“This is Admiral Kelsim, Void Rangers Assault Fleet,” I said, my voice heavy with frustration, helplessness, and regret.  “All ground forces, be advised; enemy bombers have broken through our formation and entered the atmosphere.  We have fighter craft in pursuit, but…”

I stopped, collecting myself before finishing.  “But we won’t be able to stop them all.”

First

Previous

Reinforcements arrive over Wishful Hope! But will they be enough? Let’s find out.

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Access code Epsilon-Zeta-2328-AP
Unauthorized redactions removed… original data restored…

Addendum: Data restored under Article 2.09 of the UNOR by order of the Secretary General.  Original, unaltered transcripts restored and entered as evidence in the Bronwen Report.  -Chief Investigator Andrea Powell, UN Office of Reconciliation

Memory accessed…

Memory Transcription subject: [Takkan-1] Sarn, Free Legion Fleet
Date [standardized human time]: [Redacted] March 9, 2137, Tempest (formerly the Serenity**), salvaged Federation cruiser, in orbit of Wishful Hope**

The exterior cameras showed a flare of light as we exited FTL, and as the stars came into view so too did the blue-green orb of Wishful Hope.  My eyes immediately went to the tactical display as sensor data began to fill its screen.  Fuck, was all I could think, eyes widening as I took in the data.  

I quickly snapped myself out of the shock.  “Task Force Ranger, clear the skies and get to the ground,” I ordered, activating my radio.  “Task Force Custodian, break starboard.  Task Force Commando, port.  Task Force Legion, we’re going straight in!  All combat forces, deploy your fighters and acquire targeting solutions for your main cannons.”  I bared my teeth.  “Let’s show these bastards what happens when they show up to our doorstep!”

Outside the Tempest, the ships of Task Force Legion spread out like a pair of wings, my cruiser at its center.  [Arxur-1] Crusader Fissal, his [redacted]  Light of Faith in the lead, took his task force ‘down’ around the curve of the planet, while [Arxur-2] Captain Durz, leading the Commando ships, went the other way.  Finally, Task Force Ranger, commanded by [Gojid-1] Captain Rekl dove towards the planet below, its smaller, fast escorts quickly outpacing its cruisers.

“Navigation,” I said, not taking my eyes away from the display.  “Start calculating drop coordinates for the nav beacons.  Comms?  Connect me to the Task Force Ranger.”  Fuck, I thought again, paw curling into a fist as my eyes roamed over the enemy forces arrayed against us.  

Ever since we’d first picked up the distress call, I’d tried to find out just how the Feds had found Wishful Hope.  As commander of the core Free Legion Fleet, I myself had helped put together the precautions to keep its location hidden; I’d thought I’d covered all our bases.  

We required multiple, randomized jumps on our way in, I thought.   A close swing past a star to let the solar wind scatter our trail, then a few jumps through the nebula for good measure.  We scattered arrivals and departures, changed our transponders frequently, and we’ve got two dozen points of arrival or departure in-system.  And that’s on top of all the other operational security practices we have in place.  How did they find us!?

My search for a way, any way that the Feds could have found us had ended upon arrival to the final jump before Wishful Hope.  At the final rally point, one system over, we’d met up with other Legion vessels responding to the call; instead of jumping in piecemeal, we’d jump in as a single, combined force.  We’d joined together with ships from the [redacted] Custodians of the Living Chains, the [redacted] Free Arxur Commando, a small contingent of the [redacted] Void Rangers fleet, our pirates the [redacted] Void Spectres, at least a half dozen other groups who even I wasn’t familiar with but had the proper Free Legion identification codes, and even a group of [redacted] Arxur Rebellion ships who’d tagged along with the Commando.

Once gathered, our combined force had linked our navigation computers and made the final jump together into our Legion's home system. We’d come out of FTL over the northern pole, following the coordinates provided within the distress call.  That allowed for a precision jump just beyond the thermosphere, only [several hundred kilometers] above the surface.  Though it was incredibly dangerous to jump so close to a planet, we’d thankfully only lost a handful of ships, according to the status reports.  Three vessels lost, I observed.  Worth it to get so close so quickly.

My radio came to life, and I heard the familiar voice of Captain Rekl in my ear as he greeted me.  “[redacted] Spear of Sanctuary, this is Captain Sarn aboard the Tempest,” I said in return.  “Good to hear you.  What’s your status?”

“Escorts are moving to engage the Federation ships in low orbit, and our cruisers have reached deployment altitude,” Captain Rekl replied.  “Ground forces are deploying as we speak; we’ll need time to make sure we get them where they need to go.”  His voice grew concerned.  “Are you going to be able to keep them away long enough?”

My eyes flicked back to the tactical display, trying to hide the concern I felt.  Surging towards us from where they orbited above the primary continent were dozens of ships from the Kolshian Commonwealth, and they weren’t alone.  Quickly moving to the front of the enemy formation were dozens more of the strange cylindrical and pyramidal drone ships revealed by the Kolshians at the battle of Mileau; the Shadow Fleet had come to play.  

We’re outnumbered three to one, I thought.  Combined, my hundred and twenty-seven ships faced almost three hundred and fifty of the enemy.  Not what I’d call an even fight.  “We’ll try, but it’s not looking good,” I admitted, ears flattening involuntarily as I looked back to Rekl.  

“Get as many to the ground as you can, and support them for as long as you can,” I told him.  “Even if we were to wipe out half of their fleet, if we can’t hold the ground defenses it won’t matter.  There’d still be enough survivors to turn the surface to glass.  We have to hold the surface.”  

I looked back at the tactical display, switching it from orbit to the planet itself.  “How are your escorts doing?”  Within the distress call from Wishful Hope had been the report that one of the AA batteries had been taken offline shortly after the attack began, giving a clue to the Federation plan.  A plan so obvious that a cadet could figure it out, I thought.  Take down the defenses and give Wishful Hope the ‘Terra-Treatment.’  

To protect the ground defenses and relieve their defenders, six of our cruisers had been assigned to enter low orbit and deploy reinforcements to the surface.  Already I could see dropships, shuttles and fighters erupting from their bays like an angry swarm of insects from a shaken nest.  While the ground forces deployed, a dozen escorts, fast and maneuverable, would pounce on any Federation ship hovering low over the surface.  Their job was to push any Federation ship in bombardment position away.  Then they just have to try and hold whatever gaps were made in the orbital defense coverage, I thought.

We’d hoped that we’d arrive to find the Federation ships kept at bay, held back by the ground defenses of Wishful Hope.  The presence of Federation warships and bombers over certain parts of the world had dashed that hope.  I counted four cruisers and ten bombers over the surface, now pulling away as the Legion escorts began firing salvos of missiles towards them at range.  On the surface below, the Tempest’s sensors detected the tell-tale signatures of antimatter detonations.  Evidently not all of the ground defenses had been able to hold on until we arrived.

“Escorts are working on pushing the Federation vessels conducting bombardment on the planet away,” Rekl said.  “They’ll do their best to keep them from coming back.  Once we’ve deployed our forces, the rest of the task force will join them.”

“Good luck,” I said.  “Protector keep both them and you.  Notify me immediately if your forces need backup.  The survival of the fleet is far less important than the survival of what’s on the ground.”

“Will do,” Rekl said.  “Good luck to you as well, Captain Sarn.  Sanctuary out.”  My radio fell silent, and I turned my attention back to the tactical display.

 I reluctantly switched it away from the world below, resisting the urge to look closer at where the bombs had fallen.  I’d met and become friendly with one of the refugees who had come to settle on Wishful Hope, and my brief look had shown me a part of the continent I was far too familiar with.  More than friendly, I admitted, as the view of the planet, and the angry orange spots that marked firestorms, disappeared.  Stay safe, Opila.

I cleared my mind, turning my full attention to the battle ahead, examining the view of the space over Wishful Hope.  We were outnumbered, and though I thought well of my ability to command, I wasn’t so foolish as to think I could win, not without a miracle at least.  But we don’t have to win, I thought.  Not yet at least.  We were not the only Legion forces who’d gotten the call for aid, and others were en route.  Time.  It comes down to how much time we can buy.

I activated my radio, connecting to Fissal and Durz.  While I waited I turned to my XO.  “Position update?” I asked.  “Where are we with the range?”

“We’ll be at the maximum effective range of the railguns in [two minutes],” [Yotul-1] Jec replied.

“And the ship?” I asked.  After the battle over [redacted] Serrus, we hadn’t had much of a chance to repair or rearm ourselves before getting the call from Wishful Hope.  We’d hurriedly emptied the magazines and missile tubes of several of the Federation ships that drifted in orbit before jumping out; thankfully, we hadn’t modified our vessels enough that their armaments were incompatible.

“We finished the patch to the impact on Deck Three,” he said.  “Airlocks were repaired and we welded some external plates to bolster the armor.”  His ear fell.  “We reinforced the hull bracing in sections one through eight on Decks One and Two, but we weren’t able to reinforce enough of the armor to bring it back to strength.  Hull there is at eighty percent, and we’ve got fifty percent armor.”

“It’ll have to be enough,” I said.  My radio crackled, and I saw that the link between my two fellow commanders had been established.  “Crusader Fissal, Captain Durz,” I said.  “I’m sure you’ve seen the sensor data; not all of our brothers and sisters were able to hold out long enough.  No more.  Not one more antimatter bomb reaches the surface.”

“Ranger has started deploying reinforcements to the ground,” I continued.  “And their escorts are moving to engage the Federation vessels bombing the surface.  Our job is to engage the Shadow Fleet and try to draw them away from the planet.  Until reinforcements can relieve them, the planet's defenses are still vulnerable; we’re going to buy them the time we need.”

“I’m going to engage the drone ships,” I said.  “And try to pull them away from the Commonwealth ships.  Do what you can on the flanks; I’ll drop the beacons when we make a gap.  Try to get as close to them as fast as you can; we’re too outnumbered to win at range.  This’ll have to be a knife fight.  Good luck, both of you.  I’ll see you when this is over, one way or another.”

“Ancestors be with you,” Durz said.  “[redacted] Freedom’s Price out.”

“Let’s send these heretics to whatever darkness they go to when they die,” Fissal said.  “For the Chain, the True Prophet, and the Legion!”  

Their connections broke, and I took a breath.  It’s time.  I switched frequencies, activating the pre-set one to address my entire command.  “Task Force Legion,” I said.  “Prepare to engage the Shadow Fleet; weapons free.  Let’s give them a reason to pull away from the planet.  We’re going to try to draw the drone ships forward from the Commonwealth vessels, then get in close to fight it out.”

“Our brothers, our sisters, have been fighting and dying below us,” I continued.  “They have held on for as long as they have because they’ve been awaiting our arrival.  They bled and died knowing that we were on our way, knowing that for every hour, every minute, every draw of breath they traded their lives for that we were getting closer.”

“Well, we’ve arrived at last,” I said.  “And it’s now our turn to trade our lives for time.  Our forces are descending to the surface now, where they will relieve our comrades and ensure no more defenses fall to the enemy.  We will make sure that they have the time they need to get where they’re needed, and that no more antimatter bombs fall through the gaps already made.”

“We are the Free Legion!” I roared.  “We are the blade that has been driven into the Federation's heart!  They’re trying to pull that blade free; and so we’re going to push it to the hilt!”

As if to emphasize my words, the weapons officer raised a paw, signaling that we’d entered our maximum range.  “Firing!” They announced, and I felt the ship rumble as our spinal gun fired.

Thirty-five railgun slugs crossed the vacuum in moments. Aimed at such a dense cluster of enemies, each found a target.  Probably about one hundred ships ahead, I thought.  Most of their drone force, but a fair chunk of Commonwealth cruisers too.  Hard to miss with that many.

“Good luck everyone,” I said as the first volley of projectiles barreled through space.  “All ships, engines ahead full; close the gap!”  The engines fired as the helmsman pushed us towards the advancing enemy fleet.  “Get under their guns,” I ordered.  “We can’t afford to trade blow for blow with that many cannons at range!  Heavy cruisers, get to the front!  When in range, fire [redacted] shield-breakers!”

I watched as the railgun rounds slammed into the Commonwealth ships, punching through shields and tearing armor.  Most of the ships, especially the drone ships hit, continued towards us.  Several, struck in more critical areas, drifted out of control, atmosphere venting.

As we barreled towards the enemy fleet, I saw the glow at their bows as they prepared to fire.  “Evasive!” I ordered, and my cruiser began to bob and weave through space.  Ahead of us, the Shadow Fleet fired, and dozens of slugs crossed the distance between us in a blink.

The Tempest jolted but kept moving.  “Graze, Deck Four,” Jec reported.  “Armor destroyed in section four; no hull damage.”  I nodded, eyes on the display.  Several Legion ships were gone; hit by multiple rounds and shredded by the impacts.  Others sustained varying degrees of damage but kept advancing nonetheless.  

“Entering missile range,” the weapons officer called.  “Targets locked, shield-breakers, tubes one through six.  Firing!”  From the remaining Legion ships, a hail of missiles shot forward.  In reply, the Shadow Fleet fired a barrage of their own.  The opposing missiles crossed the gulf between the fleets, some even colliding with some of their opponents number as they passed.  

The Legion missiles hit their targets first; with rippling detonations, many of the forward Shadow Fleet ships were stripped of their shields.  Moments later, before the Shadow Fleet's own missiles met our ships, light and fire blossomed in space.  My tail wagged as a great number of the enemy’s detonated as they neared the frontline of heavy cruisers, annihilated as what appeared to be a wall of laser fire erupted from the ships.  Surprise!  Not as effective as you thought that’d be!

Our heavy cruisers were heavily modified from their Federation origins, so much so that I wasn’t sure they could even be called the same class of ships anymore.  Their interiors were reinforced with a series of hexagonal braces, and their armor was double the thickness of that of a regular cruiser.  They had enough shields to provide basic protection and to be detected by the enemy, but special laminate atop the hull provided the bulk of its protection from radiation and energy.  They carried fewer plasma turrets than the typical cruiser, instead having been mounted with what was described as an “ungodly” amount of point-defense lasers.

As the forward vessels, they were the ones who bore the brunt of the enemy shield-breakers.  Their point-defences tore apart the swarm of incoming missiles, cutting down their numbers as they approached.  Those that survived detonated; the shields of the heavy cruisers blinked out with seemingly no effort, as did the shields of the Legion ships behind them.  However, the bulk of the shield-breakers detonated without effect, preserving the majority of my vessels shields.

“All forces, deploy the [redacted]…”

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Memory Transcription continued…

“… nanodrones!” I ordered.  Modified missile tubes opened up across the remaining ships, and a cloud of nanodrones flooded into space.  These drones, too small for the Kolshian drone ships to target, would attach themselves to critical parts of the Commonwealth vessels and detonate, damaging or destroying the target.  These drones had been a special present from [redacted]…

These drones had been a special present from[redacted]  [Human-1] General Jones.  They’d proven their worth previously against the Shadow Fleet, and she’d managed to secure a small supply for our use.  That supply was now expended as they flowed across the gap between our fleets like a wave.  The drones quickly swarmed the enemy ships, and soon explosions rippled through the Shadow Fleet.

 As I watched the carnage, I was struck by the lack of problems targeting the drone ships I observed.  The Duertan Shield apparently had trouble targeting these ships during the Battle of Mileau, I thought.  But no problems targeting them here.  I wonder why?

I flicked my ears.  No matter; accept the good fortune and don’t question it. “All forces, close and engage,” I ordered, the explosions from the nano-bots fading.  “Knife fight range.”  I looked up from the display.  “Helm, bring us in!  All weapons, fire at will!”

We were still heavily outnumbered by the Shadow Fleet; the nanodrones had taken out a few dozen, maybe more, but there were still plenty of targets left.  Instead of hanging back and trading fire, our chances would be better to be among them, where the Feds would have to watch their targeting or risk hitting their own.

Before the Commonwealth could launch another volley of missiles, the helmsman fired the engines, and the Tempest leaped across the remaining gap, the other surviving ships on either flank.  Thrusters firing, we launched into a space between two of the pyramidal drone ships, our cruiser rotating as we did.  From our plasma turrets came a hail of fire; superheated bolts that slammed into the armor of the two drone ships as we passed.  They had been some of the few in the frontline to survive the nanodrone attack; severely damaged regardless, our plasma fire finished the job.

The Tempest finished its spin, then nosed “down” and dove through the Kolshian ships.  “Target lock!” The weapons officer announced, and I saw an outline of the ship who we’d aligned our railgun with ahead, rapidly approaching.  “Firing railgun!  Missile tube seven, away!”

Our railgun rumbled as it sent a round that easily outpaced us at the enemy cruiser, missiles launching in its wake.  The Kolshians, still reacting to our aggressive charge into their formation, had only begun to orient their weapons at us.  The targeted cruiser was no different; it rotated, bringing the bulk of its turrets to bear, but the railgun round hit before it could return fire.

The slug hit the top of the Kolshian ship, slightly aft of the midline.  It punched through the armor then the hull, sending first a hail of splintered metal then a plume of white, frozen atmosphere into the vacuum.  The ship spun to bring its port side into line with the missiles, presenting its undamaged armor.  The missiles however were already locked on; they twisted around the ship and slammed home, warheads exploding atop the railgun impact site.

As we dove past, jerking aside to give ourselves more space, the Kolshian ship exploded from within, torn in half by our fire.  The helmsman leveled us out as they put distance between us and the destroyed ship, then quickly pulled “up” to throw the cruiser back amongst the thickest of the enemy ships.  Doesn’t want to get too far out, I thought.  No need to give them an easy target.

Around us I counted only twenty Legion ships remaining, ducking and weaving and spinning amongst the enemy vessels.  Plasma fire and missiles filled the gaps between the ships as the Kolshian drones and their few Commonwealth counterparts tried to hit the Legion ships.  They succeeded, but I saw that they hit their own vessels more than ours.  

I watched as a pair of drones sent a swarm of missiles after a damaged Legion cruiser; its captain nearly collided with another drone ship as they tried to escape.  But at the last moment they fired their thrusters, scraping across the armor of the enemy ship as they spun around its hull.  Where the two ships met, armor was sheared off into space.  From the Legion ship came thick plumes of white atmosphere as well, as the impact opened up its lower decks.  What had seemed to be a frantic escape attempt was a risky maneuver to shield themselves with an enemy ship.

Then the Legion ship was past, the Kolshian drone ship between it and the missiles that pursued it.  The missiles tried to follow the Legion cruiser; straight into the hull of the Kolshian ship.  They peppered the hull, their explosions tearing off armor and cutting deep into the core.  The enemy ship’s own missile batteries were hit, and the reactor went critical as its allies' missiles tore the ship open.  There were a series of explosions along its hull, then the warship disappeared in a ball of fire.

“Captain, we’ve begun picking up signals from the surface!”  I focused on eye on the excited comms officer, the other glued to the tactical display.  “Sir, I’m picking up numerous radio signals from across the planet,” they said excitedly.  “The jamming must be clear!”

Don’t have time to focus on jamming an entire planet with several dozen enemy ships playing welin [children’s game local to several Gojid colonies] between your own, I thought.  Hopefully that’s a good sign.  “Notify Captain Rekl, and find someone in command he can coordinate with,” I ordered.  

For the first time since we’d arrived, I felt a flicker of hope.  If we can talk to the surface again, maybe there’s more we can do.  I activated my radio, an idea coming to mind.  “All forces,” I said.  “Surface communications re-established.  If able, identify potential targets and transmit coordinates and headings to surface cannons.  Let’s see if we can get them back in the fight.”

It was a long shot, but with the right numbers and some luck, a surface cannon could hit a target beyond its range.  The plasma bolt may lose power the further out the target is, but even a weakened shot would damage an enemy ship, if not cripple it.  My eyes examined my display, and the dwindling Legion ships it showed.  And we need help if we’re going to buy more time, I thought.

The Tempest suddenly shook, and I felt the anti-gravity fail.  As I felt my body float against the restraints that held me to my seat, alarms began to blare.  “Status!” I called.  “What hit us?”

“Multiple missile impacts on our aft, port side,” Jec reported.  “Decks Three and Four, sections ten to fifteen.  Armor at thirty percent in ten through thirteen, destroyed in fourteen through fifteen.  Multiple hull breeches detected, bulkheads sealing.”

He paused for a moment, examining his display.  “Engine room reports conduit overload, antigravity offline,” he continued.  “Crew diverting excess power to shields.”

I flicked my ears in acknowledgment.  “Reinforce rear shields,” I said.  “Helm, shake whoever fired those missiles.”

“Aye sir,” the helmsman replied, paws flying over the ci trolls as they complied.  The Tempest shot through space, thrusters firing randomly to jerk us back and forth.  We passed another of the drone ships, our turrets trading fire as we did.  

The drone ship received a full broadside, our plasma splashing against its intact shields.  They flashed white as the plasma diffused across them, several sections flickering out as their emitters overloaded.  Our plasma began to dig deep into the armor, the superheated plasma turning it white hot and sending sprays of molten metal careening into space.  There they rapidly cooled, leaving a metallic cloud in our wake.

The enemy ship returned fire, its own plasma impacting our side.  “Reinforcing starboard shields,” someone called.  Then there was a curse as the ship rocked.  “Shields failing.”

Then we were past, the Tempest leaving the enemy plasma in our wake.  As the shield emitters recharged, I called out “Jec, damage report.”

“Starboard, sections seven through twelve,” he said.  “Armor between thirty to eighty percent.  Made it through without hull breaches, but multiple shield emitters destroyed.”

“We can’t take many more of those,” I muttered to myself, too quiet for the crew to hear.  We’d been lucky so far, far luckier than we had any right to be.  And that’s bound to run out eventually.

“Captain, we’re seeing the drone ships pulling ahead of the bulk of the Commonwealth vessels,” Jec announced, drawing my attention.  “Looks like the Custodians and Commandos pulled the bulk of the manned ships; they’re engaged with them. A gap has  formed between the two; and I think it’s more than large enough to suit our needs.”

“Perfect,” I replied.  “Helm, get to where the XO indicates.  Navigation, get ready to drop those beacons.”  As my crew complied, I mentally crossed my claws.  These were both navigation and emergency beacons; on specific channels, they would transmit their coordinates out towards the edge of the system.  The rest of the Legion was sure to be sending ships to relieve Wishful Hope, and these would tell them where we needed their aid the most.

“Approaching the beacon drop zone,” the navigator called.  “Ready to deploy!”

Ahead of us, another drone ship neared, moving into our path.  Below it, closer to the planet came a second, and they both began to send plasma at us as we neared.  The Tempest tried to dodge, failing as several plasma bolts washed across the bow, and the forward shields began to blare their failure warning.

Suddenly, a bolt of white-blue light came from below, slamming into the lower hull of the ship.  The shields flashed white across the hull before popping out of existence, and the shot burned into the vessel's hull.  It disappeared for a moment before the top of the ship's armor heated from within and the bolt crashed through the ship.

As the first vessel began to drift out of control, atmosphere boiled away and thrusters and engines lifeless, the bolt crashed into the second, exploding into a flash as its remaining energy was expended against the shields.   When the flash of the overloading shields had faded, a gaping hole, edges soft from the heat, had been burned into the hull.  It too began to drift, its thrusters unable to compensate with the damage.

The bridge crew let out a cheer as the surface cannon cleared the enemy vessels from our path.  The Tempest shot through the gap, entering the space made as the drone ships left the Commonwealth vessels behind.  “Beacons away!” The navigator called, and the helmsman immediately pulled the cruiser back towards the thick of the fighting.

“Good work,” I said.  If the rest of the fleets can get here, we might win this after all, I thought.  The Tempest jerked, up and down, as it dodged more fire.  Hopefully we’ll still be here when they do.

Previous

Memory encrypted… override key enabled… begin decryption…

Access code Epsilon-Zeta-2328-AP
Unauthorized redactions removed… original data restored…

Addendum: Data restored under Article 2.09 of the UNOR by order of the Secretary General.  Original, unaltered transcripts restored and entered as evidence in the Bronwen Report.  -Chief Investigator Andrea Powell, UN Office of Reconciliation

Memory accessed…

Memory Transcription subject: Major Somtak, United Nations Special Operation, Free Legion Command
Date [standardized human time]: March 9, 2137, outside Forge Academy, Wishful Hope

I threw myself to the ground, head low as bullets peppered the ground around me, sprinkling my wool with dirt.  I rolled over onto my back, rifle aimed past my paws and opened fire, emptying the rest of the magazine at the pursuing Federation troops.  I watched as the two who’d been chasing me ran into my fire, taking hits to the chest and dropping motionless to the ground.

Without pausing, I rolled back to my stomach and quickly got to my paws, already headed towards my next cover.  I crossed the distance quickly before dropping down behind the large boulder that stuck up out of the rich forest soil.  I dropped my empty magazine and slapped a new one into place, aware that I had only a few left.  This is not how this was supposed to go, I thought.

The initial attack had gone great; the Feds had attacked as expected, and [Human-1] Sergeant Summer’s feigned retreat had spurred them onwards into a kill zone.  Bet they thought they’d finally cracked us, I thought.  Instead, [Krakolt-1] Nula and her forces had swept in behind them, completely encircling them after IED’s had ripped them apart.

In the south, [Gojid-1] Yulin had made it into position without being detected, and his attack had taken the southern flank of the Feds completely by surprise.  Despite their much better than average discipline and courage compared to regular Fed troops, the enemy soldiers had panicked at the sudden attack from their rear, and Yulin was working his way up their breaking line.

Finally, [Arxur-1] Drex and [Human-2] Lieutenant Reed’s troops had managed to break through the Fed positions separating us from the defense cannon.  While they’d pursued the fleeing Feds, Aaron and I had moved up with the reinforcements and supplies for the cannon complex.  No plan survives contact with the enemy, I thought bitterly, as bullets hit the opposite side of my cover, sending chips of stone flying into the air.

It seems the Feds pushed back by Reed had managed to rally, of all things.  Not only that, but they’d actually counterattacked; something almost unheard of in most Legion-Federation engagements.  Feds troops, once broken, typically ran and kept running till they reached the horizon.

The unexpected counterattack had taken Reed and his troops, mainly Legionnaires freshly graduated that night, by surprise.  With uncommon ferocity the Feds had pushed them back, fragmenting their line before slamming into my unit as we advanced up the corridor created behind them.  Now both Reed and my own troops were pinned down, as the Feds regrouped and moved more and more forces against us.

Reed appeared, sliding into cover behind the boulder from the right as enemy fire chased after him. Panting, he rested his back against the stone.  “Well this sucks,” he said, trying to catch his breath.  “Out of all the Feddies in the arm, we get stuck with the ones who are actually good at fighting.”  He shook his head.  “Never knew they could fight so well.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” I replied.  “I’m sure it wasn’t just the fleet the Shadow Caste held back; probably also held back their best troops for when they really needed them.”  More bullets hit the boulder.  “Like killing us, for example.”

“With troops like these, and those ships, these bastards could have won the war with the Arxur a dozen times over,” Reed muttered, anger in his voice.  “They could have saved the lives of billions.  Instead, they’re trying to smash us, or keep the SC off Aafa.”

That’s for damn sure, I thought.  Everyone I knew back home had lost family to the Arxur.  And they had these troops and those ships this whole time.  How many died needlessly, just so the Shadow Caste could have their enemy?

I stuck my rifle around the boulder, firing blindly in the direction of the incoming fire.  From the side right of the boulder I hid behind, I saw Aaron and a few Legionnaires move up, weapons spitting fire.  I gave him a wave, which he returned as he crouched behind a tree.  Glad he’s okay, I thought.  I’d briefly lost sight of him when we’d been attacked by the Feds.

“Is Drex on his way?” I asked, leaning over to fire around the boulder.  This time I took aim at a Kolshian shape moving forward; they took three rounds and fell.  I ducked back quickly as their fellows returned fire, their bullets chipping away at the rock. 

“He better be!” Reed replied.  “They’re moving back in force; there are too many for us to stop.  We broke through the first time because of surprise, and we’ve lost that advantage.”  He shook his head.  “It’s not looking good ma’am.”

I quickly looked around at the IFF beacons that shone through the dark, visible in my goggles.  Reed’s Legionnaires were spread out in a flat arch to the east, facing the Federation troops who’d begun to move back to the positions they’d just been expelled from.  In a defensive formation further back, the cannon reinforcements kept low.  Far too many of the beacons I saw flashed only intermittently, the sensors no longer detecting life signs within its wearer.

I felt a sting on my face, below my right eye, and heard the crack of bullets as they shot overhead, followed by cries of pain and surprise.  Reed and I hit the ground, weapons tracking towards the direction the fire had come from.  From the right, I realized with a jolt of fear.

One of the Legionnaires with Aaron was now sprawled on the ground, blood leaking from the side of their feathered head.  The other writhed in the ground, paws tight to their abdomen as orange blood leaked between, tail thrashing.  Two Kolshians had pushed through the brush, opening fire at point blank range as they saw the Legionnaires.  Too close to pivot with his rifle, Aaron dropped it and lunged forward, colliding with the nearby enemies.

“Aaron!” I shouted, searching for a shot.  They’re too close, damnit!  Then from behind them I saw more movement.  Instead of just a pair, there was a group of Feds moving through the woods.  They’re flanking us!

“They’re flanking!” I shouted, opening fire.  I hit one who dropped, while the rest dove to take cover.  I keyed my mic.  “Hostiles flanking from our seven o’clock!” I reported.  They’re trying to cut us off, I realized, firing again as one of the Feds leaned out to try and get their sights on me.

Meanwhile, Aaron grappled with the two Kolshians, using his size and strength to his advantage.  One of the Kolshians pulled a knife and stabbed down; Aaron blocked it with his forearm; blood splattered the ground below him.  Another stab, but this time he grabbed their tentacle, slid his hand to where it gripped the knife, and locked it in an iron fist.  With an explosion of brutal strength, he twisted the tentacle and pushed the blade backwards, putting his weight behind it.  The Kolshian screamed, a high pitch cry that turned into gurgles as Aaron drove the blade into their throat.

I looked down my sights as the others neared, shooting one who raised his weapon, aiming at Aaron’s back as he turned to the second Kolshian.  They fell backwards into one of their team members, making them stumble in turn. Beside me, Reed kept up steady bursts of fire, forcing the others to keep low.

I lost sight of Aaron as he and the Kolshian went to the ground, instead focusing on keeping the other Federation troops away from him.  Finally, I spied Aaron crawling away quickly from a now still body, throwing himself behind a rock to break the line of sight of the enemy soldiers.

“Back!” Reed shouted over the gunfire, pulling at the back of my vest now that Aaron was clear.  I signed -yes- and began crawling backwards, head down and rifle forward.  I made it behind a fallen tree, taking a few deep breaths from the exertion.  Feeling something wet running down my cheek, I wiped it with a paw, hissing as I felt a long cut across my cheek.  I rubbed my paw, now bloody, in the dirt to get the blood off my wool.  “That’ll leave a scar,” I muttered to myself.

“Hey, I hear guys dig scars,” Reed said, reloading and rising to a crouch, firing into the night.  I joined him, and was about to say something witty when an object hit the moss covered trunk between us, bounced to the ground, and rolled to a stop.

I recognized the shape in an instant.  Grenade!  “Grenade!” I shouted.  I started to move, knowing it was too close, knowing I wouldn’t be able to get enough distance in time.  Aaron I’m…. My thoughts were interrupted as I was suddenly roughly shoved, hard enough to send me tumbling across the forest floor.  

My rifle fell from my grip as I spun, and for a second I was facing the direction the shove had come from, and my heart froze.  Reed, arms outstretched from shoving me aside, dropped atop the grenade.  We made eye contact for a heartbeat, and I saw no regret in his face.

Then there was a flash that forced my goggles to adjust, a muffled whump, and I crashed into a tree.  There was another flash in front of my eyes and pain as I bounced my head off the trunk, coming to a halt.  I lay there, head swimming, when what had just happened crashed into me.

“Reed!” I cried, trying to sit up.  A wave of dizziness washed over me, and my vision dimmed as I dropped back to the ground.  My ears rang, a high pitched tone.  Reed, what were you thinking?  A shape appeared in front of me out of the darkness, and my eyes came into focus to see a Federation soldier standing over me, his weapon leveled at my chest.

I let out a huff.  Fucker, I thought, eyes closing as I waited for the shot.  A gun fired, but instead of a bullet crashing into my skull, the Federation troop crashed to the ground beside me.  I opened my eyes, and saw Drex in front of me, Legionnaires rushing forward around him.  He grabbed my vest and pulled me to my feet, steadying me as I swayed.  

“Major, are you alright?” He asked, voice muffled by the ringing.

I shook my head.  “No,” I said.  “Concussion; grenade blast too close.  Reed… Reed saved me.”  I suddenly choked up.  “He saved my life.”

Then Aaron was beside me, arms wrapped around me as he led me away from the new frontline.  We passed Reed's body, and I felt my heart fill with grief.  Thank you, Lieutenant, I thought.  I’m so sorry.

Drex knelt beside Reed, quickly putting a hand to the side of his neck.  He left out a sigh, tail drooping, then reached down and pulled a few magazines from his fallen comrades belt.  “Colonel,” the Arxur said, standing and turning towards us.  “You and the Major need to go now.  Take the reinforcements and whatever supplies you can and get to that cannon.  We’ll cover you.”

“Thanks,” Aaron replied.  “Give us five minutes then withdraw back to the Academy.”

Drex shook his head.  “There are too many,” he said.  “Unless we draw their full attention, you won’t make it through.”  He motioned.  “I have three Legionnaires holding the western approach, delaying the Federation forces there as best they can, but they won’t survive for long.  The rest of us will dig in here, distract the enemy, and give you time to make it to the cannon and the AA battery beyond.”

“No heroics,” I said, voice stronger though I was still dizzy.  “We’ve got enough dead heroes today.”

“No heroics,” Drex agreed.  “Duty.  Our job is to protect this world, and that means you and those reinforcements make it through.  If not, thousands will die.”  He pointed.  “Now with respect, go.”

I looked at Aaron, and we met one another’s eyes.  We shared the same look; of reluctant acceptance.  He’s right, Aaron’s eyes said.  I hate it, but he’s right.

I looked back to Drex, then activated my radio.  “Reinforcement detachment, pull back to my position,” I spoke into my mic, the words bitter.  Around us, I saw Legionnaires break away from the skirmish line, leaving those under Drex’s command alone to face the superior numbers of Federation troops.

I straightened up, still unsteady, but the dizziness was clearing.  I gave Drex a salute, as did Aaron.  “Hold as long as you can,” Aaron said quietly.  “And take a lot of these bastards with you.”

“Yes sir,” Drex replied, a closed fist rising to his chest.  “Now go, get to that cannon.  Make sure this sacrifice is worth it.”

Memory Transcription subject: [Yotul-1] Rels, the Free Legion, “Ralchi’s Raiders”
Date [standardized human time]: March 9, 2137, Forge, Wishful Hope

[Yotul-2] Laris looked up at me, chest rising and falling unevenly.  He let out a rattling, wet exhale, green blood bubbling into his mouth.  I gave his paw a squeeze, and his ear and the tip of his tail twitched.  Then his head sank to the floor as if he were going to sleep, pupils dilating.  His chest rose one last stuttering time, and then he exhaled with a soft gasp.  Then in my paw, his went limp.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall, and forced myself to breathe in and out at a steady, even pace.  I let out one, choked breath, then gently placed Laris’s limp paw on his chest.  I stared for a moment, then stood, turning away from my fallen friend.

As I walked past the bodies of the dead, lined up neatly within the bunker's generator antechamber, I forced my gaze to remain level, though I could feel the pull as I walked past.  I felt my heart squeeze as I forced myself to walk past the familiar faces laid out in the ground; [Tierkel-1] Poli, [Yotul-3] Ulfa, and others who I’d fought beside for weeks.

[Yotul-4] Marik was waiting at the foot of the stairs, the same look of pain on her face that I knew I shared.  She fell into step beside me as we climbed up the stairs side by side.  Wordlessly, our paws met.  She gave me a comforting squeeze, and I squeezed back.  

It felt like days, but in reality had only been a few hours since our arrival at [redacted] Cannon Turquoise.  Following our arrival, we’d managed to push the Federation back beyond the razor wire that encircled the complex.  But then they’d attacked once more.  And then again.  And again.

We’d begun taking losses in the second attack.  By the end of the fourth, we’d been reduced to a battered remnant.  Those who still lived were all wounded in one way or another; Marik was missing most of her left ear, dark green blood seeping through the bandage wrapped around her head, and I winced as I walked from the chunk of flesh the graze from a plasma bolt had taken from my leg.  And of the twenty-seven [redacted] Chaos Company Legionnaires and forty [redacted] Wishful Hope Planetary Guard who’d garrisoned the orbital defense cannon complex, there were twelve and nineteen, respectively, left who were able to fight.

“I love you,” Marik said quietly as we climbed towards the surface.  “I wish I’d said it sooner.”

I leaned into her.  “I love you too,” I said.  “Samesies.”

She let out a hollow laugh and playfully punched me in the good shoulder, then draped her arm around me.  “Smartass,” she whispered. 

“Guilty,” I admitted, tail wagging happily.  

The tender moment ended as our radios came to life.  “Enemy drop ships inbound,” the tired voice of [Yotul-5] Eris reported.  “Ground forces too.”

“How many?” I asked, reluctantly breaking away from Marik’s embrace.  The question came reflexively, without thought.  It doesn’t matter.

“Enough,” was Eris’s only reply.

“Copy that,” I replied, understanding without the need to clarify.  “We’ll be right there.”  The radio went dead, and I looked at Marik.  A mix of pain, grief, love, regret and other emotions crossed her face.  I held out my paw again.  “Let’s end it together,” I said.  She flicked her remaining ear, and took my paw.

We reached the top of the stairs, reluctantly letting the other go as Eris joined us, and together the three of us walked from the bunker.  I nodded to [Zurulian-1] Iska, propped up behind the machine gun in one of the firing positions, their legs splinted and bandaged. They nodded back, and then we emerged into the open air.

The air was cool and crisp, though tainted by the faint smell of smoke and blood that seemed to linger at the end of every breath.  On the horizon, the first fingers of sunlight began to chase away the night's dark, revealing a sky clear of all but a few white, fluffy clouds.  Wishful Hope’s avians had begun to sing as the world awoke, greeting the new dawn.

“It’ll be a beautiful day,” I remarked as we took our place behind one of the few sections of  the Hesco walls that remained intact.  A beautiful day to die.

I was under no illusions.   We were outnumbered.  We were outgunned.  We had few explosives left though plenty of ammunition, scavenged from the Federation dead.  We’d lost contact with the rest of the Legion over a claw ago.  The last transmissions we heard before the radio fell silent was that of other positions being overrun.  And based on the enemy bombers and ships crossing the horizon, far beyond the range of the defenses around [redacted] Turquoise, things were going poorly elsewhere.  No help would be coming.

We were isolated and alone.  We all knew the next attack would be the last, and that we would not survive to see its end.  But the defense cannon still fired, trying to hit the enemy vessels sitting beyond its maximum range.  Its crew was unharmed, and determined to keep the gun firing until they were killed at their stations.

[Yotul-6] Res flicked his ears in greeting as we joined him at the wall.  One of the pair of remaining missile launchers, loaded, leaned against the wall, a spare missile laying beside it.  Two of the four we have left, I thought.  Beside him, a surviving Gojid from Eris’s team, [Gojid-1] Hasti, gave a half-hearted wave.  There were five of us assigned to each side, with the remaining eleven having taken position in the bunker.  

“Alright folks,” I said, keying my mic.  “Enemy forces inbound.  Save the rockets for the dropships; we don’t want those hanging in the air above us.  They do have guns after all.  We’ll have plenty shooting at us as is.  Wait till the Feds close and get their present before engaging.  Remember our job; hold until relieved, at any cost.”

No rousing speech, no words of encouragement; that wasn’t my style.  Besides, we all know how this ends, I thought.  There was a shared, tired acceptance among the survivors.  We’re going to die today.  Only question is how hard we make it for the Feds.

“They’ve been getting more enthusiastic,” Res said, as we saw the ground forces appear at the tree line.  The hum of the incoming dropships engines was growing louder, soon drowning out the songs of the local avians.  “Maybe that means they’re running out of time.”

“Hopefully,” Marik said, pulling the charging handle of the machine gun she manned.  “It’d be nice to go out knowing we at least fucked up their plans somewhere else.”

Then over the forest appeared three dots that grew rapidly, becoming three of the stealth dropships that had transported Federation forces across the surface.  They stayed back, outside the effective range of our launchers, and began circling around the base.  

Below them, Federation troops moved out of the tree line and began to advance from every side.  Scattered gunfire began to pepper the front of the Hescos, but it was poorly aimed or not at all.  Even still, we dropped behind our cover, unwilling to let a random bullet end our fight.  

“Target Reference Point One reached,” a voice over my radio said.   “Rounds out; danger close.”  From the bunker came the muffled thunk as the mortar began firing its last few shells.  There was a whistle overhead, too close for comfort, then a bang as the shell hit the ground.  I saw a fountain of dirt, and several Federation troops fell like grain before a farmer's scythe.  The other attackers hit the ground, but rose and moved forward again as another shell impacted with a bang.  They’d learned that staying in one place was the wrong move when under fire, and instead chose to try and close the distance between us.

Quick learners, I thought.  Unlike other Federation troops I’d fought before, these ones displayed uncharacteristic flexibility, changing and adapting as we changed our tactics.  If every Fed thought this way, we’d have had a much tougher fight on [redacted] Relvoh’s Rest.  These must be from the Shadow Caste; guess we should be honored that they sent their best to deal with us.

The mortar fired twice more before being rotated in its pit.  Unbeknownst to the attacking forces, those three shells had been their last.  Last explosive ones, at least, I thought.  I risked a look over the Hesco, only to receive a hail of return fire.  They’re getting better at suppressing us.

“Enemy crossing razor wire,” I reported what my brief look had shown me over the radio.  “Get ready everyone!  Mortar team, send it up!”  Beyond the Hesco’s, the Feds reached the exterior trenches.

 Behind me, a final thunk rose from the mortar position.  Into the air shot a final shell, not an explosive but a star shell with its fuse adjusted.  We’d also removed some of the propellant charge, so it reached its apex quickly, plummeting at a steep angle that brought it down into the trenches we’d formerly occupied.  Trenches now filled with the stored liquid fuel for the cannon’s emergency generator.

With a loud whoosh, a firestorm erupted from the trenches, sending thick oily smoke into the sky.  I heard agonized screams as our trap ensnared at least a few of our attackers.  Hope you like the taste of your own medicine! I thought.  “Open fire!” I called, rising and opening fire on the advancing troops, now too close to miss.

During previous attacks, they’d used the trench to fire on us from cover, and that suppression had allowed them to destroy parts of the wall, whose sections had been hastily repaired between attacks.  This time, between a choice of burning or shooting at us from the open, they chose the latter.  I fired a burst of plasma at a Kolshian laying prone in front of the burning trench, hitting them in their upper back; they slumped facedown, limp as the bolt burned through them.  Beside me Marik’s machine gun chattered and I saw several other enemy troops fall.

I managed to get another burst off, hitting a wounded Kolshian as they dragged themselves away from the trench, before being forced back behind cover.  “Sapppers!” came a voice in my ear.  

They’re determined to end this, aren’t they? I thought.  That’s our cue.  “Fall back!” I ordered.  “To the bunker!”  I pushed myself off the wall and began running across the complex to the bunker at its center.

We’d known that we wouldn’t be able to stop them on the wall; there was too much to defend and too few of us.  With their superior firepower, they’d suppress us enough to get explosives close and breach the wall.  Then either they’d move the flamethrowers they’d been careful to position at the rear up to cook us or just drown us with numbers.  Instead, we’d planned to kill whoever we could with the fire trap and in the brief window after its ignition before they recovered from the shock of the flames.  Once suppressed again we’d abandon the wall, falling back to trenches dug against the walls of the bunker itself.  

We’d realized that the firing ports of the bunker had too many blind spots; there were only so many holes you wanted to make in a bunker, after all.  While they faced the most likely avenues of approach, there were still angles infantry could use to reach the exterior wall.  And when the Feds made it through the Hesco wall, they’d be able to exploit those angles.  If they did, all that it would take to clear the bunker would be a couple of flamethrowers and the cannon would fall.

I heard the explosion behind me as I vaulted over the sandbags in front of the bunker wall, into the trench made while filling them.  Beside me came the rest of the team, Marik quickly laid the barrel of her machine gun across the sandbags, opening fire.  Behind us, one of the repaired sections of wall had been blown open once more, and Federation troops streamed through.

Nowhere left to run, I thought, opening fire with my pistol.  Behind me and to either side I could hear the guns within the bunker open fire.  Whoever had survived the defense at the wall would now be in positions to cover the blind spots that would allow flamethrowers close.  Our job is to keep the Feds at tails length, I thought.  And give the eleven inside as much time as we can.

I fired a few more bolts, then knelt behind the sandbags, satisfied that enough Federation troops were now close to the walls.  From its place in the cool dirt of the shallow trench, I picked up a detonator.  Thanks Vysa, I thought, thinking back to when she’d told us the perimeter was rigged to explode.  A last resort before a last stand, I thought.  How fitting.  “Take cover!” I ordered over the radio.  “Blowing charges!”  I waited a moment and squeezed the trigger..

There was no single, thundering explosion.  Instead, dozens of rapid-fire detonations raced around the perimeter of the complex, tearing the remaining Hesco’s apart and sending rubble and enemy troops flying.  On the bunker wall above me, fragments of metal and stone hit the concrete, shattering and sending fragments in all directions and pelting those of us taking cover below.  I heard screams of pain as some of that shrapnel found its way into the bodies of my own; metal fragments ricocheting off the bunker with the force of a bullet.  While some of us might be wounded or even killed by the explosions, it was certain that larger numbers of the enemy would.

“Opening fire!” I heard Marik shout, her voice quickly lost in the roar of her machine gun.  I rose and added my pistol's whine to the cacophony, focusing on the Federation troops who’d made it inside before the detonations.  The wall had been demolished; only its scorched rubble remained.  Bodies and pieces of bodies lay scattered around where the breeches had been, while those who’d made it inside either lay where they’d fallen, bodies riddled by debris, or slowly trying to get to their feet, dazed by the explosions.

I picked a target, squeezing my trigger.  A trio of bolts made contact with an enemy soldier as they struggled up, returning them to the ground before they even registered the impacts.  I chose another target, one who’d been beyond the wall when it’d blown, but they dropped behind the remaining rubble, taking cover.  For a few precious moments we had superiority of fire, cutting down the wounded and the dazed.

But then as they recovered, that balance quickly shifted.  “Venting,” I said, going to one knee and letting the top cover of my pistol slide back, exposing the heat sink.  Waves of heat distorted the air above it as it shed the excess heat.  The cover slid back in place, and I stuck my paw over the sandbags, rapidly tapping the trigger.  Then I rose, taking aim at those my wild fire had forced to take cover against the ground, and put a bolt through the top of a Kolshians head.

“Incoming drop ships!” Someone reported over the radio.  My eyes went up, searching the skies; I wasn’t able to hear much over the rattle and bang of gunfire.  I saw movement above the treeline.  Having completed one final circle, the three dropships banked sharply and began to head straight for us.  They didn’t fire as they approached, I noticed.  Probably already expended their ammo; rookie move.

Opposite Marik, I watched as Res hefted his launcher to his shoulder, rifle discarded at his feet.  “Kill those fuckers please,” I said, sending another shot at the approaching troops.  I could see several peeking over the rubble that once made up the Hesco walls; they began to pour concentrated fire on our position as they recovered.

Beside me, Res fired his launcher, and across the complex a second missile rose into the air.  I tracked Res’s shot as it sliced through the air towards the lead dropship, the pilot reacting uncharacteristically slowly.  Must have been up all night, I theorized.  Reaction time’s off.  Should have been cracking stims like all of us.  Res’s missile drove into the dropship's cockpit and disappeared.  Then like a balloon bursting, the dropship came apart with fire and smoke.

The second dropship tried to dodge, turning and dropping flares and chaff as it did, nearly coming to a halt in the air. The missile skipped past the hull, nearly missing the craft.  Unfortunately, a flare set off its warhead as it passed the rear thrusters.  

The explosion tore open the hull and shredded the thrusters.  The rear of the dropship fell as the front rose, the forward thrusters sending it nose skyward.  It hit the ground rear first, and, with flames already licking at the engines, they exploded.  A geyser of flames burst into the rear compartment as the dropship flipped, landing gear pointed to the blue sky above.

The final dropship managed to dodge the third missile, the projectile exploding harmlessly behind it.  It landed on our side of the complex, doors already open as it touched the ground.  At least three dozen Federation troops disembarked, moving away from the ramp and dropping to the ground, taking cover from the gunfire we sent their way.  The moment the last troops had left the ramp, the dropship began to climb back into the sky.  Res, having reloaded, took aim and fired our last missile.

Too close to dodge, the missile struck the dropship in the side, punching into the hull before exploding.  The blast tore it apart; one wing was shorn free and the tail broke into several pieces, plummeting to the ground below.  The main hull rose up a little further before the thrusters failed, and for a moment it seemed to hang motionless in the sky.  Then it fell, straight on top of the soldiers it had just disgorged.

I lost sight of the soldiers below the dropship as it hit the ground; they disappeared in a wall of fire.  “Good kills folks,” I said, my tail giving a single wag of satisfaction.  I picked another target and fired, but missed as the enemy hit the ground.  Beside me, the machine gun chatter paused, before quickly starting again.

Several bullets and a plasma bolt hit the wall behind me, and I involuntarily flinched as fragments and heat pelted my back.  I heard a grunt, and spared a glance to my side; Eris had fallen back against the bunker wall, weapon discarded, one paw pressed to her chest while the other frantically dug for their IFAK.  I stared at her as she did her best to treat herself, and felt something within me, something I’d long felt fraying, finally break.

I forced myself to look away from my wounded comrade, taking aim at another approaching enemy, my paw now trembling.  Seeking Eris on the ground against the bunker wall, blood having begun to pour from beneath her paw, was the arrow that finally found a chink in my armor.  My earlier resignation at death was replaced by the crushing sense of failure.

Too many, I thought, eyes darting between targets.  There’s too many of them to stop; we’ve taken too many losses.  We can’t stop them.  We can’t save Wishful Hope.  The weight of everything finally crashed into me like a wave; the deaths of Laris, Poli, and the others; our desperate attempt to buy time for reinforcements to arrive; the rapidly approaching, inevitable death of myself and the woman I loved.  

Despite everything we’d done, everyone we’d lost, it hadn’t been enough.  I felt tears begin to form in the corner of my eyes as everything hit at once.  We failed, came the thought crashing through my mind.  We failed everyone.

There was a sound beside me; a wet wap.  Hasti’s head fell forward atop the sandbags as her body went limp.  Beside her, Res pulled her backwards and she slid off the sandbags, crumpling to the bottom of the trench.  Part of her face was missing, a bullet having torn through her snout, and blood and brain matter leaked from the wound.

I blinked rapidly to clear my eyes and took aim at another enemy; they fell into cover before I could fire, and then was forced to seek cover myself as a plasma bolt hit the ground in front of me and peppering my face with tiny fragments of fused soil.  I knelt, a shaking paw wiping at my face, feeling blood from small cuts across my snout.  Beside me, Marik continued to fire her machine gun, now one-pawed; blood stained the fur of her left paw, a tourniquet tied tight above the elbow.  I felt a surge of fear seeing her bloody, knowing I’d failed her too…

Error… Error… Memory interrupted… extreme emotional distress detected…

Attempting recovery… recovery successful…

Resume playback…

Pleads for help, cries of pain, and the wet rattle of the dying's final breath filled my ears, the radio telling me the fate of the other defenders.  I rose again, firing my pistol again and again at the Federation troops who’d surrounded us, bracing it atop the sandbags to steady my aim.  Behind the forward attackers, I saw the shape of flamethrowers as their bearers moved up.  I leaned against Marik, tail against hers, and felt her press into me as well.  

As we shared a final, silent goodbye, I keyed my mic for what I knew was the last time.  “Take as many with you as you can!” I said, giving my final order.  I swallowed the lump in my throat.  “It’s been an honor, Chaos Company!”

Several bullets hit the sandbags in front of me, now shredded by the volume of fire they’d endured.  I felt an impact against my abdomen as something made it through the degrading barrier, as if I’d been punched in the gut; Marik flinched beside me too, but kept firing.  I let out a grunt of pain as another bullet ricocheted off the bunker wall and buried itself into my calf…

Error… Error… Memory interrupted… extreme emotional distress detected…

Attempting recovery… recovery successful…

Resume playback…

I leaned against the sandbags, forcing myself to stay upright.  I grit my teeth against the pain, focusing on the warmth of Marik beside me and the last Federation soldier I’d kill in front of me.  I leveled my pistol, hot pain filling my grip as the weapon overheated, and sent a bolt of plasma burning through their chest, dropping them in their tracks.

Then I saw lights come to life in front of us, blurry through the tears that filled my eyes.  The flamethrower troops, finally in range, ignited their weapons and took aim.  I turned my pistol toward the nearest one, flames bursting forth.  I fired again, time slowing as the wall of fire neared.  I felt the heat, felt my fur begin to scorch…

The air filled with rapid thunder, and the heat disappeared.  The flames cut off as blinding light erupted in front of me, and I found myself forced to look away.  The thunder drowned out everything; my heart pounding in my ears, the gunfire, the screams, the fire.  I looked back towards the approaching Federation troops as the light began to dim.

Fire covered the ground where fuel from burst tanks had showered the earth.  Soil rained down from the sky, smoke hung thick in the air.  Colorful objects lay scattered across the ground; it took a moment for my mind to recognize them as bodies.  Past them, Federation soldiers reeled, weapons now pointed skyward.

There was a roar, and suddenly geysers of dirt and flames erupted amongst the enemy troops, quickly joined by flashes of color as their bodies were torn apart.  Then a fighter drone, its silver finish scorched by the heat of reentry, shot by low overhead, banking with a turn so tight it would have killed a living pilot.  Another followed on its heels, sending up another line of impacts across the Federation troops as it strafed them.

In my ear the radio crackled, and I made out words I’d nearly missed, so focused on the flames meant to cook me alive.  “…close, repeat, danger close!” A voice shouted.  “Keep your heads down!”  The fighter drones made another pass, sending dozens of light railgun slugs slamming amongst the enemy forces.  

Then another voice broke in over the radio.  “Cannon Turquoise, this is Scimitar Platoon, [redacted] Void Rangers,” a voice suddenly announced.  “We are inbound on your position!  Hold on; help is here!”

I looked up, the shock of the sudden reversal paralyzing me.  In the sky above, their noses glowing red from their rapid descent, a pair of dropships appeared, hurtling towards us like fallen angels.  They were not alone; like a shower of meteors, dozens of dropships, gunships and shuttles plummeted towards the ground trailing fire.  I could see them beginning to spin, thrusters firing as they reoriented themselves towards their objectives.

And above them, barely visible against the brightening sky, were warships.  Like enormous whales, several swam through low orbit, their weapons flashing as they fired at unseen targets.  Missiles burst forth from the behemoths, drawing trails of vapor across the sky.  And above them still, where the blue sky melted into the black of space, lights darted back and forth, and flashes of orange fire dotted the distant heavens.

I stared for a moment, then left out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding.  I backed up until I met the bunker wall, collapsing against it.  I slid to the ground, suddenly unable to stay on my feet.  Marik joined me on the ground, leaning close with her face on my neck.  I could feel wetness against my neck as she pressed her face into me; blood or tears, I wasn’t sure.  We held, I thought, pulling her close, letting the tears fall freely.  

Nearby, Eris lay still, her head back, chest rising and falling unevenly.  Res sat on his haunches, staring at the ground blankly.  Hasti’s body lay where it had fallen, the blood that had flowed from her fatal wound having congealed in the dirt.  Marik beside me still bled from her arm, the tourniquet having loosened while fighting.

We watched approaching dropships pull their noses up as they grew closer, their thrusters igniting to slow their descent.  I closed my eyes, letting the exhaustion overcome me as I listened to them land.  We did it, I thought. We held.  At long last, reinforcements had arrived.  

Nurses at UMass have been without a contract for over a year, and the Hospital Management have ignored everything the staff have said in support of safer patient ratios. If you can, please support them!

Memory encrypted… override key enabled… begin decryption…

Access code Epsilon-Zeta-2328-AP
Unauthorized redactions removed… original data restored…

Addendum: Data restored under Article 2.09 of the UNOR by order of the Secretary General.  Original, unaltered transcripts restored and entered as evidence in the Bronwen Report.  -Chief Investigator Andrea Powell, UN Office of Reconciliation

Memory accessed…

Memory Transcription subject: Major Somtak, United Nations Special Operation, Free Legion Command
Date [standardized human time]: March 9, 2137, Forge Academy, Wishful Hope

I ducked below the window, hearing the impacts of bullets on the opposite side of the wall I hid behind.  I gave a silent prayer to whoever had decided that quality was worth the price when they’d raised this building.  If this was one of those cheap, build-in-a-day prefabs those rounds would have torn me apart, I thought.

I waited for the gunfire to slow then rose again, rifle leveled, and let loose a burst of gunfire.  From my second story perch, overlooking the road that separated the administrative areas and the academy buildings, I saw the Fed trooper who’d attempted to cross the road fall, limbs thrashing in pain.  I fired again, bullets hitting the pavement beside them before dropping back into cover.

Their comrades used the brief interruption in my fire gave the rest of their team across the road the chance to unleash a hail of bullets on where I hid.  “They’re moving,” a voice said in my ear, and I unconsciously flicked an ear in acknowledgment.  Covering fire while they retrieved their wounded, I thought.  Effective, but I’m not the target they should be watching for.

From a few windows to my left, I heard a sudden, deafening rattle as the heavy machine gun, hidden in the shadows of the dark room beside mine, opened fire, sending dozens of heavy rounds into the Federation troops position.  As expected, their suppressive fire abruptly ended.  The machine gun rattled for a few more moments before it too fell silent.  Cautiously, I peeked over my cover.

Two more bodies had joined the trooper on the road, all three shredded by the heavy rounds.  Across the road, the walls that surrounded the entrance to an office were missing huge chunks of the exterior siding and the concrete beneath.  Slowly spreading out from just inside the entrance was a pool of blood.

 “One more probing team down,” I muttered, louder than I’d intended, moving back from the window as I stood.  “Gods know how many more to go.”

“Fine by me if they want to feed themselves into our guns,” [Human-1] Sergeant Summer said from down the wall.  “We’ve got the bullets to spare.”

“It’s not the bullets that worries me,” I replied.  “But the time we spend firing those bullets.  Both us and the Feds are buying time; and they’ve got a larger purse than we do.”

The majority of the Federation forces, on this continent at least, were concentrated in the attack on Forge and Forge Academy.  Upon landing, their efforts hadn’t been to attack the eastern battery or even the orbital defense cannon inside the Academy grounds.  Instead, they’d worked to isolate different parts of the Academy from the other and pin its defenders in place.  They’d landed to the southwest, the northeast and the east, cutting us off from the town, the orbital defense cannon complex, and allowing them to force their way through the center of the grounds.

And it’s easy to see why they wanted us cut off, I thought, looking towards [redacted] Forge Cannon, the orbital defense cannon just north of the Academy proper.  Its barrel was visible over the roof of the lecture hall across the road, glowing white from the heat of its bolts it sent skyward.  This cannon is probably the best manned and best defended one on the planet, I thought.  And the one they really want to bring down.  

While the Feds pinned us down, trading a dozen lives for every extra minute, more of their forces had surrounded the defense cannon.  From the reports of the defenders, delivered over their landline, they’d repelled multiple attacks but were starting to feel the weight of attrition.  There were only so many defenders, and they had only so many bullets.  And with the way the Feds seem to be willing to spend lives, it’s only a matter of time before they fall.

I left the room from where I’d been shooting, Sergeant Summers at my tail, nodding at the Guardsmen who took our place.  As I walked down the corridor, I waved my tail through the door of the room from where the heavy machine gun fire had come from.  The Arxur within, now hefting the weapon over their shoulder to relocate, gave me a nod in return.

We entered the next interior room, and joined Aaron at the table over which he stood, several pads spread out in front of him.  Around us were several others; a few Legionnaires standing guard, two speaking into handheld receivers leading out from what appeared to be a splice in the building's phone line, and others patiently awaiting Aaron’s orders.

“Another probe’s been dealt with,” I announced, setting my rifle on the table, and wrapping my tail around his waist.  It’s nice to not care to hide us, I thought, as Aaron ran his fingers through the wool between my ears.  “That’s four in the last half-claw,” I continued.  “I think they’ll probably try to make another go soon.”  And get promptly smashed, just like last time.

“More than likely,” Aaron agreed.  He pointed at the screen of his pad, face up on the table.  On it was displayed a map of the academy proper.  Forge Academy was laid out in a neat grid, two blocks across and four long, oriented north to south.  Structures surrounded the main area with various degrees of density, suggesting the directions of future expansion.

“We’ve got no reports of probing attacks from [Human-2] Lieutenant Reed, holding in the admin area,” he said.  “And it doesn’t seem like the Feds between them and the cannon have any interest in moving.  Same with the ones here, in the industrial district between us and the town.”

“No need to move if all you’ve got to do is hold your ground,” remarked [Arxur-3] Drex, one of the new Legionnaires from the second class.  He’d been selected by his classmates to lead one of the ad hoc units formed during the activation of the class due to the Nightfall Contingency.  

He leaned close, examining the map.  “Major, those probing attacks came from the northeast, right?  Towards Second Road?”  I nodded in confirmation, ears flicking as well.  “So they’ll probably try their luck there,” he said.  “Further isolate our forces.  Any reports on massing units?”

“Ten points to Drex,” [Krakotl-1] Nula, whose dark navy feathers almost made her blend into the shadows, said as she entered the room.  She held up a pad, handing it over to Aaron.  “Just got back from my recon,” she said.  “Thermals show Feds massing for a push across Second Road.”

I looked at the images on the pad, and the orange shapes of Federation troops, seen from above.  They’d launched several attacks since the fight had begun, each starting with probing attacks to get a feel for the defenses before they massed troops and made a push.  Their attacks don’t accomplish much in terms of taking ground, I thought.  But taking ground isn’t the point.  They just want to keep us occupied.

“Good work,” Aaron said, giving her a nod before looking back to the rest of us around the table.  “The Feds have continued to put pressure on us from all sides,” he said, eyes moving between each of us at the table.  “Not enough to commit, but just enough to hold us in place.  They’re buying time for themselves to take out the defenses; the longer they can keep us pinned, the longer they have to break the defenders.  And they’ve got the bodies to spend to do it too.”

And they sure  as hell are spending those bodies, I thought.  From our observations about the enemy soldiers, as well as information extracted from the single prisoner we’d taken so far, the attacking forces were dedicated to destroying us, even if it cost every one of their lives.  Guess a few hundred is more than worth it to remove our particular thorn from their paw, I thought.  Even the sole prisoner, once they’d seen the opportunity, had activated a suicide device in their translator, killing themselves before we could learn anything more.

“The longer we allow the Feds to force us to be reactive rather than proactive,” Aaron continued.  “The greater chance the cannon complex falls, and Wishful Hope along with it,” he said.  “Now that the shock has worn off, and we’ve gotten some kind of organization together, it’s time we go on the offensive.”

“Our objectives are the AA battery and the orbital defense cannon,” he continued, pointing at the map for emphasis.  “Those are the only things keeping the Feds from drowning us in anti-matter.  Our goal is to relieve and reinforce them, and continue to hold out until our reinforcements arrive.  And we can use the Feds own attack to do that.”

“[Gojid-1] Yulin reports that they’ve been able to push south from the barracks,” he said, pointing again to the two southernmost blocks of the academy.  “And have dug in at the rifle ranges.  While he leaves a few troops to keep up appearances, he’ll be taking the rest through [redacted] Blackwater Swamp.  The Fed's southern flank ends at the waters edge, so if he can avoid drawing any attention he’ll find himself at their rear.  He’s got orders to wait for my orders before he engages; we don't want him to commit too soon in case it makes them call off their attack.”

“Sergeant Summer,” he said, turning to the DI.  “You’ll have the troops who meet the Fed attack.  Each time they’ve come for us they’ve hit a brick wall.  We dig in our heels, they push, we push back harder until they move.  This time, we’re going to do something they won’t expect; we fall back.”

Summer nodded in understanding.  “Fallback and draw them onto the street,” he said.  

“Correct,” Aaron said.  “First, have your troops set up some IED’s where we know we can trap the Feds.  Nula’s going to be waiting with her unit on either side of the road; once the Feds have been drawn down the road far enough, she’ll close the trap, and you blow the explosives and counterattack.  We trap them in a pocket and annihilate them.”

“Drex,” he said, turning his attention to the Arxur.  “You’ll be bringing your unit into the admin area, and start hit-and-run attacks against the northern blocking line.  While you’re keeping them occupied, Reed will bring his troops to the northwest corner of the admin area.”

“Once the Feds attack, you and Reed will attack in a pincer north towards the cannon complex,” he continued.  “Clear the way, because Somtak and I will be right behind you.”

“We’re going to be using this attack to relieve the defenders at the cannon,” he said.  “But we’re also going to use it to work on getting help to the eastern AA battery.  Once the path is clear, Somtak and I will bring fresh troops and supplies to the cannon.  Then we’ll break off and circle north, around the Feds in the industrial district.  We’ll enter Forge, and head straight to the battery.  We’ve already lost one; any more and we leave an opening for bombers to do what the ships in orbit can’t.  Questions?”

“When do we get started?” I asked, and was rewarded with a smile.  

“Right now,” Aaron said.  “This is our chance to turn things around, and blunt the knife the Feds are insistent in stabbing into our heart.  We keep those cannons alive, we keep those ships at arms length.  And we only have to do that for a few hours more, at most.  Once our reinforcements arrive, we’ll show the Feds why they don’t mess with the Legion.”

Memory Transcription subject: [Arxur-1] Sarkis, The Free Legion, “Free Arxur Commando”
Date [standardized human time]: [Redacted] March 9, 2137, Forge, Wishful Hope

I lowered my rifle, smoke rising from the now open chamber.  Wordlessly I dropped the empty magazine, pulling another from its place on my harness and slamming it into place.  I pulled back on my charging handle, chambering a round, and finally let myself take a breath.

Ancestors what a mess, I thought, looking around the now calm battlefield.  Before me was the two-story tall structure that housed one of the anti-air batteries that protected Forge Academy and the surrounding settlement of Forge.  The battery itself was a squat, reinforced concrete bunker, with a reinforced cube beside it that held its emergency generator.  Atop the roof were the weapons of the battery itself; two heavy dual laser repeaters and a missile launcher with a magazine of five long-range missiles.

Behind me in the distance was the spaceport, the night lit by the fires that burned in the terminal.  The runway was covered with smoldering debris from enemy dropships and the shuttles who’d had the misfortune of being on the ground when the attack began.  And scattered on the ground around me were the bodies of the Federation troops who’d attacked the battery, who I and my fellow Arxur Legionnaires had so rudely surprised.  

Following the defense of [redacted] Serrus, myself and a small contingent of the [redacted] Free Arxur Commando had come to Wishful Hope with the wounded and the dead, as well as defectors from the Dominion force.  We’d already screened them; each had passed the empathy test, and now they’d move on for further screening before being inducted into the next class of the Free Legion.  While I wouldn’t mind adding the new potentially recruits to the Commando itself, I knew that the more Arxur we integrated into the Legion, and the more herbivore species saw that we weren’t all monsters, the better the post-war galaxy could be.

I’d planned for a few days of administrative work; ensuring the wounded were being treated, the dead interred at the Legion's cemetery or repatriated to their world of origin, the new recruits processed, and our share of the spoils from the Serrus operation properly assessed and documented.  I’d also been asked to meet with some of the newest Legion graduates as well; apparently several would be attached to the Commando in order to better facilitate our relationship with Legion Command.  

Not sure why we need an attachè or a liaison or whatever they are from Legion Command, I remembered thinking.  It’s not like we don’t work closely with them already; we’re probably the group most closely tied to Command as is.  Whatever the reason, I’d been looking forward to the new faces, curious about the second class of Legionnaires.  Apparently there’s been some changes to the training, and I’d wanted to see what those changes were and if they’d be something I could take back to the Commando.

A group of the [redacted] Custodians of the Living Chains had joined us on the trip to Wishful Hope as well, for the same reasons as us.  We’d bunked together in the guest billet in the [redacted] Gentle Waters Spaceport, named for the wide but meandering river that bordered the spaceport to the west.  And other than some complaints about their loud, early morning prayer services, we’d been getting along better than usual.  Of course, the Custodian officers' ban on religious debate with the Commando members probably helped.  In the end, I’d expected a few days of paperwork, meetings, and R&R.  Instead, we’d been awoken by the sound of sirens and the Nightfall Contingency; Wishful Hope had been discovered and was under attack.

Nightfall Contingency, I thought, making my way to the fence that surrounded the battery, walking towards the break in the razor wire that lined both the base and top of the fencing.  I remembered learning it in the academy, but I never imagined it’d actually happen.  Much less that I’d be stuck here when it did.

We’d armed ourselves when we’d learned of the Federation attack; we’d kept our kits with us out of habit, and had been about to move out to find our own trouble when Major Somtak had contacted me.  Just how the Federation had found us was unclear; how they’d managed to get enough ships into orbit to deploy soldiers en masse was not.  Our tactics have come back to bite our tails, I’d thought.  You can do something only so many times before your enemy starts taking notes.

From what she’d told us, the Federation appeared to be working to destroy the anti-air and orbital defenses that protected the planet.  Every installation on the planet had come under attack, and they’d already managed to knock out the AA battery to the north of Forge.  Obviously, they couldn't be allowed to destroy any others, unless we wanted to sun ourselves in an anti-matter glow.  

We’d been tasked to move to the southern AA battery to assist the forces there, but as we moved out of the spaceport, the nearby western battery had come under heavy attack.  Before I could contact the Major to notify her that we’d diverted, the battery had sent up a red flare; the signal that they were about to be imminently overrun.  Seeing that, we’d made haste across the river, where the battery stood on the opposite bank.  The Feds attacking the battery had prepared for a counterattack once the flare had gone up; they hadn’t expected it to be led by Arxur.

A Venlil walked up to me, paws stained with various shades of blood, a medic bag over their shoulder.  “Welcome to Battery Forge-West,” the Venlil said.  “My name’s Sergeant Tudi, 1st Company, Wishful Hope Planetary Guard.”  Her tail waved behind her, and even I could tell she was exhausted.  “Thank Solgalick that you arrived when you did; I don’t think we could have fended them off for much longer.”

“While I prefer to give people the benefit of the doubt,” I said, looking down and nudging a dead Kolshian with a clawed foot.  “I unfortunately agree.  It’s been awhile since I fought the Feds, but these ones definitely aren’t your typical Fed soldier or exterminator.”  I looked at her.  “You guys did a hell of a job holding them off before we arrived.  You should be proud.”

“My name is Sarkis, [redacted] 1st Free Arxur Commando,” I continued, turning to face Tudi and a few of the Guard behind them.  “My apologies for getting here so late; we were delayed on our way out of the spaceport.”  My arm still aches from that graze, I thought; we’d had to fight past several Federation units attacking the spaceport itself in order to leave its grounds.

“Better late than never,” Tudi replied, tail twitching nervously and ears moving back and forth.  “Glad to meet you, and even gladder you’re on our side.”  I noticed her eyes drift to the scene behind me; not all of the Feds we’d killed had been with bullets.  Tooth and claw still had their place in battle, and we were much better at CQC than the Feds.

She’s got a bit of a tremor, I thought, observing the Venlil Guardsman.  I took a deep but subtle breath, letting my mouth hang slightly ajar.  And she smells terrified*.  Fantastic.*  

“Several of us were part of the first class of the Legion,” I said reassuringly.  Just not the defectors fresh from the Dominion; better to not mention that.  “And I would have been considered ‘defective’ even before I escaped from the Dominion.  Myself and those under my command are very much on your side,” I assured the scared Venlil.  

“And pardon the creepy factor, but I can smell your fear,” I said, and she straightened with a start.  “Save it for the enemy, not me or my men.  I understand there are many herbivores who still do not trust us; decades of fear isn’t an easy thing to forget.  But we are your comrades, whether you believe it or not.”

I cocked my head to the side.  “I understand that your own protocols dictate that you fall under the command of the ranking Legionnaire when working with us,” I said.  “That would be me.  I also understand that many of the Guard were once refugees who settled here on Wishful Hope, and may have a wide variety of backgrounds.  Will you or your Guard have any problems following my orders or the orders of my subordinates?”

Tudi looked from side to side, as if searching for the answer to my question.  Finally she looked back, this time meeting my gaze, and brought a clenched paw to the center of her chest in salute.  “No, Legionnaire,” she replied, with certainty in her voice.  She bowed her head.  “My apologies if my behavior suggested otherwise; I’ll admit this is the first time working so closely with Arxur, but you are a Legionnaire before me all else.”

“Thank you,” I said, bowing my head in return.  Thank the Ancestors, I thought, holding in the sigh of relief.  Major Somtak had warned me that some of the Guard may be wary of us; despite exposure to Humans and some Arxur, years of trauma and lies did not go away overnight.  I was thankful that it would not interfere with our job; not here at least.

“Now, I can see your unit suffered casualties before we arrived,” I said.  “Unfortunately, we’ve been tasked with relieving the southern battery; we only diverted here for your flare.  That being said, I’m not leaving you empty-pawed.” 

I spied my unofficial second in command, and waved them over.  “This is [Arxur-2] Zirax, Knight-Monk of the Custodians of the Living Chains,”  I said, introducing the two.  Tudi flicked an ear in greeting, while Zirax gave a short bow.

After a moment, Tudi awkwardly mimicked the Custodians bow, and I couldn’t stop myself from chortling at her attempt.  “You don’t need to bow back,” I said, stifling my amusement.  “That’s more of a Custodian thing.  They don’t mind the rest of us not following suit.”

“The attempt is appreciated though,” Zirax replied warmly.  He turned to me.  “Captain, what can I do for you?”

“Just Sarkis is fine,” I reminded him.  You’re way too formal, I thought.  Unlike the Custodians, the Commando had a much less rigid hierarchy, and failing to address someone by their rank wasn’t uncommon.  Plus, I’m not saying ‘Knight-Monk’ anymore than I absolutely have to.

“We’re moving out,” I said.  “We’ve been delayed from the south battery long enough.  But we’re not leaving these Guardsman without help.”  I turned to the Venlil.  “Sergeant, how many do you have left?  

Tudi’s tail drooped, and her ears flattened against her skull. “There’s five of us left,” she said softly, pain evident in her voice.  “They hit us hard at the beginning there; we didn’t even see them coming.  Honestly, I don’t think the five of us would be able to hold off another attack, but with a couple extra paws, it might be possible.”

I nodded, tail swishing.  Shit, I thought.  That’s not enough to hold this place.  “Fortunately for you, even wounded we’re as tough as we look,” I said, deciding on a plan.  “We’ll still be able to put up a fight.”  I turned to Zirax.   “Unless they can keep up, secure the wounded here; otherwise they’ll slow us down.  Plus, they’ll have an easier time holding a static defensive position.  Assign three non-wounded troops to assist as well, random selection.”

“Understood Captain,” Zirax replied.  “I’ll check with the medics and have the appropriate troops left here, then pull a few unlucky bastards out of line to make themselves at home.”  With that he turned and moved to where a pair of medics crouched over a few Arxur lying supine on the ground.

“It’s not much, but it’s the best I can do,” I told Tudi.  “I wish I could do more.”

“That’s more than enough,” she replied, thanks clearly evident in her body language.  “With them we might have a chance.  And if not…”  She fell silent for a moment.  “If not, then we’ll be sure to make the bastards earn it,” she finished.

She extended her paw, and I took it in mine, noticing just how small she really was.  “Good luck Captain,” she said.  “Give them hell.”

“Good luck to you as well, Sergeant,” I replied.  “And don’t worry; I intend to.” 

First

Previous

I’ve been looking to prep a field for planting garlic in November, but have gotten behind because I’ve also been helping negotiate a union contract for 1800 nurses (and there’s a risk of a strike).

It’s become overrun with jewel weed and Lady’s Thumb (or smartweed) that I plan on cutting before clearing some rocks and tilling. Would solarizing with clear plastic sheeting for a few months be a good idea after?

Memory encrypted… override key enabled… begin decryption…

Access code Epsilon-Zeta-2328-AP
Unauthorized redactions removed… original data restored…

Addendum: Data restored under Article 2.09 of the UNOR by order of the Secretary General.  Original, unaltered transcripts restored and entered as evidence in the Bronwen Report.  -Chief Investigator Andrea Powell, UN Office of Reconciliation

Memory accessed…

Memory Transcription subject: Major Somtak, United Nations Special Operation, Free Legion Command
Date [standardized human time]: March 9, 2137, Forge Academy, Wishful Hope

I slammed the receiver down, letting out a frustrated huff as I considered our options.  Hearing the sound of the door open behind me, I turned to see Aaron enter the command room, dressed as I was in full kit, a rifle hanging from a sling around his chest.  He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around me, planting a kiss on my forehead that I returned with a lick along the side of his neck.  

No point in bothering to hide it now, I thought as we broke apart.  From the faces of some of those around us, our relationship wasn’t a surprise; most actually seemed to take it in stride, apart from a disappointed officer who discretely passed a handful of credits to a beaming Legionnaire.

“The Nightfall Contingency is proceeding as planned,” I started.  “We’ve established contact with the local installations and units, and they’ve begun defending their assigned positions.  Data is being transferred to the ‘black box’ servers buried beneath relevant sites, and once complete the links are being severed and the boxes buried.  Any remaining hard dives outside those boxes are being purged, and any remaining paper records are being burned.  We’re not leaving a scrap of intel for them to find.”

“What do we know?” Aaron asked, nodding in approval at my brief report.  He moved to my side, joining me to examine the map of our local area displayed on the screen in front of us.  Beside it was another displaying status updates on the local defenses.

“Federation forces have found us,” I began, before pointing to several areas where red symbols marked the map.  “They appear to have landed a large number of troops on the surface; we’re still not sure just how many, but it’s enough that they’re giving our forces a fight.  If I had to guess, at least two or three battalions worth.”

“How’d they get so many here?” Aaron asked, eyes tracking across the screen.  “That’s no small number.”

“Whatever ship they managed to get close didn’t just have a jammer, or a series of jammers aboard,” I said.  “They also had several FTL disruptors, which they deployed in several places in orbit.”  My ears flattened.  “They used them to pull multiple capital ships out of FTL, bringing them right to our doorstep.”

“They copied our trick,” Aaron said, letting out a low whistle.  “Don’t know they had it in ‘em to try something so ballsy.  I guess they are capable of learning a trick or two.”

“That’s not the only one they learned,” I said.  “The newly arrived ships dumped ground forces once they exited FTL; we’ve multiple deployments of Federation forces across the planet.  While the majority are centered on us, smaller forces have engaged defenders at every settlement, and they all appear to have the same goals.”  

I brought my tail up, and tapped a few places on the screen.  “Federation forces are focusing their attacks on both our AA batteries and the orbital defense cannons,” I said, pausing to let it sink in.  “We have four AA batteries and one defense cannon protecting the Academy and Forge,” I continued.  I motioned to the status display beside the map, where one installation read ‘offline.’  “They appear to have already taken the northern battery; we’ve been unable to raise them on the landline.”

Once they’d been detected, the Federation had dropped all pretense of stealth and had enacted blanket jamming of all frequencies.  However, every installation and bunker on Wishful Hope maintained a backup landline; you couldn't jam a cable unless you cut it, and the cables were deeply buried underground.  And per the Contingency, any defensive installation is required to  frequently update their status, I thought.  If they aren’t reporting anymore, that means they aren’t there anymore.

“The other batteries and the defense cannon all report they’ve come under attack,” I continued.  “The strongest of which are being mounted against the defense cannons.  They’re trying to eliminate our defenses; destroy the AA to let bombers overhead, or kill the cannons to let them bomb us from orbit.”

“And have their ships tried to brute force their way into position to drop their anti-matter payloads?” Aaron asked.  “That’d be the easy way to end this.”

“They have,” I replied, giving myself leave for a satisfied tail wiggle.  “And they immediately regretted that decision.  We don’t have a great idea of what’s happening up there, obviously, but from what the cannon crews report, and the fireballs we could see from down here, we’ve shown them that getting within range is very undesirable.”  

Thank the Gods we upgraded the coolant systems and power generators, I thought.  Without their ridiculous fire rate, those ships would have ended this already.  Instead, reports suggested that no fewer than a dozen enemy ships had been destroyed attempting to close with the planet.  The rest now kept back, just out of range of our cannons.

“So it’ll be a ground game until they either take our defenses offline or we get help,” Aaron said.  “What are our forces looking like?”

“Not bad, all things considered,” I said.  “But it could be better.”  I indicated the green symbols on the map, some right beside the red.  “The second class and the part of the third class that had to return to the Academy have been activated, and have engaged enemy forces moving on the Academy itself.  They’re keeping them occupied while the fourth class and the noncombatants make their way to the bunkers.  The rest of the third class at the pole have been directed to scatter and hide.”

“We’ve got a few additional Legionnaire units scattered across the planet, and they’re coordinating with the [redacted] Guard to hold onto the AA and orbital cannons,” I said.  “As well as protect civilians as they make their way to shelter.”  

My ears dropped again at his questioning glance, and my tail began to thrash angrily.  “The bastards are targeting civilians,” I said, anger spilling into my voice.  “I don’t know if it’s because they want to or if it’s to try to draw our forces out to protect them, but it’s stretching our forces.”

“Thank God for the Guard,” Aaron muttered.  I flicked an ear in agreement.  As we’d grown, and with the majority of Legionnaires sent out into the galaxy to fight, we’d needed a way to protect ourselves at home.  We’d supplemented the Legion with recruits from the various resistance forces our cells had set up; the [redacted] United Grallan Resistance had bolstered our numbers with several dozen new Legionnaires, and recently many promising soldiers had arrived from the [redacted] Relvoh’s Guard and the [redacted] New Warsk Sapient Alliance.

When these were not enough, we’d recruited from the refugees who’d settled Wishful Hope.  After some training they’d been organized into the [redacted] Wishful Hope Planetary Guard, a volunteer planetary defense force and security service.  This not only supplemented our manpower, allowing us to station forces at critical installations across the planet, but also made the refugees a part of the Legion.  A lot less chance of betrayal if that means throwing a family member under the bus, I thought.  And thanks to the Feds programming, we’ve got the advantage of loyalty to ‘the Herd.’

“Without them we’d probably be overrun,” I said.  “But as things stand, we’re mostly holding our own.”

“Mostly?” Aaron asked.

“Mostly,” I repeated.  “With our forces tied up and spread out as they are, we don’t have the numbers necessary to launch counterattacks on our defenses that are under attack,” I said.  “Most of them should be able to hold their own, but there are several that desperately need assistance if they’re going to survive.”

“Judging by your tail, you’ve found a way to solve that problem,” Aaron said, batting at my wagging appendage.  I whacked his hand with it, and flicked my ears.

“That I have,” I said.  “We recently had a few visitors show up, and we’re going to make them earn their keep.  Some of them are back from a campaign they just finished, while some others were just paying us a visit after the [redacted] Serrus operation.  And finally,” I waved my paw around the room.  

“The Secondary Command Bunker has come online, but they’re in the middle of nowhere,” I said.  “They can’t do much but coordinate the defense.  But we’re right beneath the Academy, and well within reach of several of the defenses under pressure.  The secondary bunker can take over our role; we should do what we can to make sure there are still defenses left to coordinate.”  

I stopped for a moment, letting out a soft sigh.  “And this is our Legion; those are our Legionnaires, our Guard who are fighting and dying to defend our planet,” I said.  “I don’t feel right sitting safely in a bunker while there’s something we could be doing to help.”

Aaron looked at me, and I met his gaze unflinchingly.  In his dark eyes, I saw the same thing I felt; a reluctance to stay back, and a determination to help.  “Neither do I,” he said finally.  “And you’re right; if we can do something, we will.”  He looked around.  “Any volunteers?”

Immediately hands and paws shot into the air, and he turned to me with a grin.  “That’s settled then,” he said.  “Now what about these other visitors who’ll be helping out?”

Beside me the receiver crackled, and a familiar voice came over the speaker.  “Legion Command, this is Chaos Actual,” [Yotul-1] Rel’s voice said.  “I hear things are a bit too calm and you need things shaken up; how can [redacted] Chaos Company assist you?”

There was another crackle before another familiar voice spoke.  “Dagger One calling in,” [Arxur-1] Sarkis said.  “I’ve got a mixed bag of so-called defectives eager to remind the Feds why they're so scared of the Arxur.  Just point us to where we need to go, and we’ll make sure they regret attacking our world.”

Memory Transcription subject: [Yotul-1] Rels, the Free Legion, “Ralchi’s Raiders”
Date [standardized human time]: March 9, 2137, outside Turquoise, Wishful Hope

The minute the alarms had sounded I’d rolled out of bed, popped some painkillers and pulled on my kit, despite [Yotul-2] Marik’s protests.  She hadn’t protested for long; she knew me well enough to know that there wasn’t a chance I’d stay behind, no matter how my injuries limited me.  

The Zurulian doctors had done a good job patching me up; my shattered upper arm bone had been put back together, and the hole in my side had been fixed.  However, despite the advances of modern medicine, they were still bullet wounds, and while the healing time had been dramatically shortened, it’d still be awhile before I was back to top shape.  I flexed my arm beneath the brace, feeling the pain from the mended bones and stitched together muscles.  Next time just take the narcotics, I admonished myself.  Don’t be a hero and try to tough it out with just OTC’s.

Ahead, a paw rose into the air and our formation stopped, dropping into a crouch amongst the ferns and trees that we moved through.  My ear twitched as I listened, the sounds of gunfire having grown louder as we approached the orbital defense cannon we’d been tasked to relieve.  I shifted my grip on my plasma pistol, taken from one of the Federation occupiers on [redacted] Relvoh’s Rest.  While I preferred ballistic weapons, I couldn’t use a rifle or carbine with my injuries, and the lack of recoil or the need to reload made it the obvious choice.

I swept my gaze around me; the forest was shades of dark greens and black, while my fellow Legionnaires stood out with the pulsing infrared lights attached to their harnesses.  In the distance north of us, a collection of bright lights that made my goggles dim each time I turned towards it stood out against the night, with muzzle flashes and plasma bolts trading back and forth around its base.

[redacted] Cannon Turquoise, I thought.  Once the Federation had  launched their attack, it had become clear that they meant to destroy the defenses that protected Wishful Hope from aerial and orbital attacks.  So far the defenses had demonstrated their effectiveness; I’d seen several distant flashes against the field of stars overhead that indicated the death of Federation ships that had come too close, and had seen two of the Feds stealthed dropships blown out of the sky by the AA guns.  

However, the defenses were under attack across the planet, and we’d already lost several AA batteries.  And each one we lose thins our AA coverage, I thought.  Too thin, and their bombers will be able to start getting through.  To prevent that, my company had been tasked with defending both the defense cannon and the AA battery around [redacted] Turquoise where we’d been staying; while [redacted] Chaos and Havoc platoons had gone to the cannon, [redacted] Anarchy and Mayhem had gone to the AA battery.

Most settlements have only one or two AA batteries at most, I thought.  It won’t take much to start opening corridors for their bombers.  And even if they don’t manage to take all the guns out, they’ll probably be willing to risk losing a couple bombers if that means getting their payload on target.  Just a few bombers would be enough to lay waste to whatever they targeted.  And everyone around them.

After we’d returned to Wishful Hope, we’d gotten the chance for some well deserved R&R after several weeks of heavy fighting.  I knew that not every cell gave themselves the chance to take a breather, especially not one as long as I planned for my unit, but I was convinced it was the right thing to do.  It allowed us time to decompress, heal the physical wounds that hadn’t had the proper attention, talk to therapists for the mental and emotional wounds that we each no doubt carried from what we’d seen, and  prepare for our next operation.  In addition, it would give me time to properly bring every member of Chaos Company up to the Legion standards.

And it gives us the time to actually be more than just Legionnaires again, I thought, a warmth on my snout letting me know I was blooming.  I shot a glance to the side; Marik was crouched nearby, having taken command of the company in light of my injury.  She’d made her feelings for me known in the closing hours of the fighting on Relvoh’s Rest, and I admitted that I felt the same.  

I’ve got more reasons than just beating the Federation to fight now, I thought.  Now I’m fighting so we can have the future we want.  The future we’d never have had if Humanity hadn’t come back.

There was movement ahead of me, and I saw the slow approach of [Yotul-3] Laris and the team leaders of Havoc Platoon.  I made my way to meet him, Marik and my own platoons team leaders beside me.  I came to a stop, with  [Yotul-4] Ulfa and [Yotul-5] Eris beside us, and felt a pang in my heart at [Yotul-6] Sedi’s absence.  He’d been severely wounded in the attack on the [redacted] Rola City Spaceport’s orbital gun, and remained in an induced coma.

He wasn’t the only one; [Yotul-7] Tasx and several other members of the platoon had been killed or wounded, and in all the company was at about sixty percent strength.  I flexed my arm again.  Well, maybe fifty-nine percent, I thought with a snort.

“Enemy forces up ahead,” Laris reported.  “They’ve got the complex surrounded, but it looks like they’re concentrated to the north, trying to push over the Hesco wall; they’re over the razor wire and trenches.  I don’t see any sentries on lookout; they’re throwing everything at the cannon.”

That’s not good, I thought, careful to keep my body language from reflecting my concern.  But it explains why the mortar isn’t firing; they don’t want to hit our own troops.  But if the Feds are already against the wall, then they’ve cut through a lot of the defenders already.

Unlike the cannon we’d taken on Relvoh’s Rest, ours had dedicated defenses in place.  First, the cannon was built into a circular, reinforced concrete bunker, with six firing positions around the exterior, a light plasma repeater to deal with close-range anti-air, and a mortar pit.  Next was a hesco barrier wall with covered fighting positions and razor wire at the base, followed by reinforced trenches and finally a ring of razor wire two rolls deep behind that.  Finally, the entire complex was located on a low hill, the bunker overlooking the rest of the defenses from above.  Unless attacked in force, it was designed to hold out against a determined raid.  And with geothermal power generators buried beneath it, as well as an emergency liquid fuel generator, it would keep firing until the crew within was killed or the cannon destroyed.

But it’s not built for a siege, I thought.  And this is more than a raid.  They won’t hang on forever.

“Then we get to stop them,” Marik said.  “Laris; your platoon has got more troops than ours, so you’ll be the assault element.”  She turned, quickly examining the ground ahead, then looked back.  “Take your forces around the left, past that cluster of fallen trees,” she said, pointing.  “Stay concealed within the tree line.”

“I’m going to take the rest of us straight ahead,” she said.  “Send a runner once you’re in position, and we’ll open up with everything we’ve got.  Standard hammer and anvil; we’ll pin them in place, and you advance to hit their flank.  If they’re already at the Hesco’s then they’ve probably already cut or blown their way through the wire, but make sure whoever’s in the lead has wire-cutters just in case.”

Laris flicked his ears in agreement, and Marik looked back to the rest of us.  “With luck, we’ll break their forces on this side, then force the rest back outside the wire.  To start, let’s at least get them off the walls and buy us some breathing room.”

“No matter what, we need to get inside and help the defenders hold the line,” she finished.  She glanced at her watch.   “The distress call went out a little over a claw and a half ago; the nearest reinforcements are a whole paw away.  That means we’ve got a couple hours to hold out before help arrives, so try not to be heroes.  Questions?”

When no one responded, she flicked her ears.  “Then move out,” she ordered.  “Keep your heads down and shoot straight.  We didn’t fight all over Relvoh’s Rest to lose the heart of the Free Legion; let’s make sure it doesn’t happen.”  With a clenched paw to every chest in reply, we split up and began to close the distance with the defense cannons complex up ahead.

I kept low, crawling through the dirt and fallen leaves that blanketed the ground, ferns passing overhead as I crawled beneath them.  My thoughts went back to training, when I’d spent an entire day in the dirt and mud to plant an IED to kick off a new phase of our education as insurgents.  That was only a couple months ago, I realized.  It feels like it was so much longer.

I crawled over a log, scraping the moss from the top as I kept low.  Finally, as we neared the tree line, I saw Marik raise her paw, just above the ferns she sheltered below, high enough we’d see.  I moved a few more tails forward, taking cover behind a weathered rock.  To my left I saw [Zurulian-1] Iska and [Tierkal-1] Poli, with [Yotul-8] Res to my right, his launcher already loaded and slung across his back.

I observed the enemy ahead, pistol braced on the ground before me.  Several tails ahead of us the tree line thinned then ended where we’d cut the brush back.  There was a wide open space beyond, where I saw several Federation attackers taking cover or treating their wounded in shallow foxholes.  Past that were the two lines of razor wire, severed in several areas, and the trenches beyond.  Muzzle flashes lit the top of the Hesco walls, while Federation soldiers answered below them in turn.  Worryingly, the fire from the defenders was far outnumbered by that of the attackers.  

They’re starting to get spent, I realized.  They’ve been fighting outnumbered and outgunned; the Guard sounds good from what I’ve been told, but they’re no Legionnaires.  And unless they’ve got prior training, there’s only so good they can be.  I shifted, taking aim at one of the Federation soldiers laying in a foxhole ahead of me.  Hold on guys, I thought.  Help is here.

I heard a low rustle, and saw one of Havoc Platoon join our line, tail signing -ready- to Marik.  She flicked her ear in acknowledgment, then swung her tail low.  The meaning of the motion was clear; get ready.

I looked down my sights, lining up a shot at a Kolshian whose rifle peeked over the edge of their hasty fighting position.  My heart pounded in anticipation, and I forced my tail to stop its nervous twitching.  Then Marik let go with a burst of gunfire, and the night exploded.

I pulled my trigger three times in rapid succession; the first shot took the Kolshian on the left side of their back, jolting them forward before the other two hit.  These ones burned into the center of their back, through the light armor they wore, through their body, and into the damp ground beyond, sending up a small puff of steam.  The others fared just as poorly; bullets or plasma found each of the enemy troops in their rear position, sparing none.

“Covering fire!” Marik shouted.  I shifted my aim, sending several bolts soaring above the demolished wire barriers towards the enemy troops approaching the Hesco walls.  I saw several of them drop before they realized they were under attack from the rear.  By then, the defenders within had intensified their attacks and Havoc had begun to move in.

They advanced quickly from their concealed position, catching the Feds attacking from the south in a withering crossfire. They tried to return fire, but while I saw a few members of Havoc fall, they didn’t stop.  By the time they reached the wire, moving through the breaches made by the Feds themselves, the attackers had had enough.  First one, then two, then a dozen broke and started to retreat down the line towards friendlier forces.

“Chaos, move!” Marik shouted, rising to her feet and charging forward.  I followed her lead, moving from the thin brush in which we hid into the wide open space between us and the friendly defenses.  

My feet pounded the ground as I ran, firing plasma shots towards the enemy forces as I did.  I probably won’t hit anyone, but I can keep their heads down, I thought.  The rest of the platoon shared the sentiment, as did Havoc ahead of us.  A hail of fire filled the air near the Federation forces, forcing most of them to stay in cover.

Not all did, however.  There were muzzle flashes from where the Feds had taken cover, and ahead of me Poli gave a grunt and stumbled, then hit the ground.  I hooked my plasma pistol to my vest and grabbed the back of his vest in a smooth motion, pulling against his weight as I continued forward.  The weight eased, and I nodded to Eris who’d taken the other side.

Together we dragged him the final distance, through the breech in the wire then down into the first trench.  We hit the duckboards that lined the bottom with a thud, and Eris and I lay Poli against the side.  “Medic!” I called, rolling the Tierkal onto his back and running an eye over their chest, finally getting a look at the injury.

Bright yellow blood oozed from a wound just below the bottom of their vest, painting their legs.  “Fuck,” I swore, yanking their IFAK off their vest and tearing it open.  Gut wounds are bad, I thought, pulling the syringe of trauma foam from within.  “Sorry,” I muttered to him, 
 meaning it.  Then I pushed the tip of the syringe into the wound and injected the contents.

He let out a howl as the hemostatic foam filled the wound, pressing the ruptured vessels within closed.  Then the medic arrived, joining me as we finished stabilizing Poli.  A self-sealing dressing over the wound, a shot of pain medication in his arm, and he was as good as we could expect for the moment.

“I’ll finish up with him,” Eris said, on her knees beside the Tierkel.  She motioned with her tail.  “Head inside; we’ll be right behind you.”

I gave her a nod, then turned to my wounded team member.  I gave Poli a reassuring pat on their arm.  “Just a scratch,” I told him.  “You’ll be fine.”

He wagged his ears at me.  “Tis but a flesh wound,” he joked through gritted teeth.  “I’m invincible!”

I waved my tail in amusement before rising and pulling myself up over the edge of the trench.  Ahead of me, I saw several Guardsman atop the wall frantically waving me forward.  I obeyed, stepping between two posts that anchored the end of a strand of razor wire; staring down the funnel ahead of me was the barrel of a machine gun, a rope ladder hanging beside it.

I climbed the ladder and was helped over the top of the wall, finding myself in the main section of the complex.  Guard towers stood at each of the four corners of the Hesco battlements, two having already been destroyed.  A few tails ahead, Marik stood beside a frazzled looking Venlil, the light blue vest of the Planetary Guard bright in my goggles, and Laris.  I joined them, nodding a greeting to the Venlil.  “Rels, Chaos company,” I said.  

“Lieutenant Vysa, 3rd Guard Company,” she said, her tail flicking out.  “Thank Solgalick that you guys got here in time.   I don’t know how much longer we could’ve held them at the walls without your help.”

“You did the heavy lifting,” Marik said.  “And now we’re here to add some hands to that burden.  Where do you need us?”

“The north needs more guns,” Vysa said, pointing.  As she did, I could see several bodies laid out behind that section of wall.  “And I need more people spread out on the east side,” she continued.  “Are we expecting anyone else after you?”

“No,” I said.  “The rest of the company were tasked with protecting the local AA battery; we’re it for help until the distress signal gets answered.”

Vysa nodded.  “Quality trumps quantity,” she said.  “And I look forward to seeing how the Legion punches the Feds in the face.  Definitely the north and east side.”  

She let out an exhausted sigh.  “They took the trenches faster than we’d expected; just flung themselves over the wire faster than we could shoot the bastards,” she said.  “If they do the same to the walls, we’ve got charges rigged to blow the entire perimeter, but that’ll mean we’ll have been pushed back to the bunker.  Last stand ground.”  Her ears flattened against her skull.  “These Feds are fanatics,” she said.  “The only thing they care about is taking this cannon; to hell with their lives.”

“Well too bad for them,” Marik remarked.  “But we’re not going to let them have it.  But I’ll gladly accept however many lives they decide to throw at us.”  She turned to Laris and I.  “Laris, spread out along the north side; get them away from the wall.  Rels, to the east.”

I nodded and turned back to the wall, brushing her with my tail as I did.  She flicked her ear in reply as she began to walk towards the bunker with Vysa, asking about the status of the defenses in total.  

I helped pull the last few members of Chaos Company over the wall before the ladder was pulled back up and a few Guardsman took their place.  To the east, gunfire began to pick up.

“Chaos platoon!” I shouted.  “East side, move!  The Feds didn’t seem to get the message Havoc so nicely delivered them; let’s drive it home, shall we?”

I ran towards the assigned wall, the rest of the platoon around me.  As I ran though, I couldn’t help but feel an icy finger of fear run itself down my spine.  There’s a lot fewer Guard left than I was expecting, I thought, eye glancing at the laid out bodies around the complex.  And not nearly enough of us.  

I shot a look to the dark sky above.  We’ll hold until relieved, I thought.  But if those reinforcements don’t arrive in time, then I guess we’ll see how long that really is.

First

Previous

Trying to collect the grass as I cut it for the chicken run, but the clippings just gets caught in the first “pipe” of the bagger. Any suggestions?

Does anyone know where I can learn more about the Kolshian Ethnic Cleansing Relocation? What year did it occur, who did it, etc?

The final battle for Aoja begins, and we open with a special unit…

Memory encrypted… override key enabled… begin decryption…

Access code Epsilon-Zeta-2328-AP
Unauthorized redactions removed… original data restored…

Addendum: Data restored under Article 2.09 of the UNOR by order of the Secretary General.  Original, unaltered transcripts restored and entered as evidence in the Bronwen Report.  -Chief Investigator Andrea Powell, UN Office of Reconciliation

Memory accessed…

Memory Transcription subject: Yomus, Captain, 1st Auxiliary Mechanized Infantry Division, Delta Company, “Recel’s Raiders”
Date [standardized human time]: March 6, 2137, Asoa, Aoja (Kolshian Republic Colony)

It started with a roar as the thrusters fired, and I tightened my grip on the restraints that held me in my seat.  Then with a rough jerk followed by weightlessness, the UN lander dropped from the carrier’s bay and threw itself into the upper atmosphere of Aoja.  Outside, I knew the hull would be glowing red as it hurdled at breakneck speed towards the ground far below.

“This is one hell of a ride,” Dilo, my gunner said, looking back at me from his seat at the front of our IFV’s turret affectionately named “Gray’s Gambit.”  “I hope they don’t charge us for tickets after it's done; I hear that Humans actually PAY to experience things like this!”

“That’s because they’re crazy,” Gelus, our driver, said from beside him.  “Why you’d want to do this for fun is beyond me.”

“Come on,” I joked, settling back in my seat.  “It’s a little fun.  Minus the risk of exploding, of course.  And dying in a furnace falling out of orbit.”

“Sure, real fun sir,” Gelus said.  “If I didn’t know predator disease wasn’t a crock of shit, I’d think you were infected!  But I know better; you just got dropped when you were young.”

That drew a shimmer of amusement across all of us, our tentacles shifting color.  “Don’t quit your day job,” I replied.  “But you’re getting better at this humor thing.  Maybe one day you’ll be able to pass for a normal person instead of a weirdo.”

The lander rocked, hard, and over the radio the pilot announced, “We’re entering the low atmosphere; winds are picking up from the storm.  It’s going to be rocky the rest of the way down.  We’ve reached the max operational height for surface AA; brace yourselves in case we start taking flak!”

My limbs tightened their grips around my straps, bracing myself for what felt like the inevitable ground fire from the Aojan loyalist guns below.  They had ringed the Capital with plasma repeaters and missile batteries; a good hit of either would be enough to knock the lander from the sky.  And with how much weight we’ve got on this lander, one good hit would be enough to knock it out of control, I thought.  I don’t think the pilots are that good that they’d be able to recover.

One moment passed, then another, and another, before I finally relaxed.  We heard nor felt any ground fire; just the wind buffeting the lander outside.  Guess it's our lucky day, I thought.  “No ground fire?” Dilo asked.  “Well cook me and call me calamari; the rebels did it!”

“Probably not just the rebels,” I said, relaxing the grip on my straps and releasing the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.  “I hear this [redacted] Free Legion group has been doing their fair share of the heavy lifting on Aoja these past few months.  If there’s anything important, they’re the ones who’ll take care of it.  Remember to buy them a drink when you see them; and none of that weak-ass Human swill.”

“I’d love to know where those folks came from,” Gelus wondered aloud.  “They aren't part of the UN from what anyone can tell.  They’ve got people from every species fighting with them; even Arxur I hear!  And if you dig deep enough they seem to be in a whole lot of places.”

I groaned, knowing where he was going.  Not this again, I thought.  He’s got to stop reading those articles.  “You think that maybe the Shadow Caste isn’t the only secret government around?” He asked.  “Or maybe there’s another hidden group of species trying to pull some strings?” 

“Enough with the conspiracy theories,” Dilo remarked.  “Gelus, you spend too much time on the Net.  There’s no secret other multi-species government out there, there’s no second Shadow Caste, there’s no whatever other crazy theories you’ve been reading.  Just because there’s been one, huge, millennia long and galaxy shattering conspiracy doesn’t mean there’s more than that!”

Gelus’s reply was drowned out by a shrill alarm, and I heard the landers’ stabilizing jets fire.  Thank the Spirits, I thought, glad for an out to their daily argument.  “Touch down in thirty seconds!” the pilot announced over the radio.  “Get ready to roll Raiders!”

Wordlessly, Gelus started the engine of our M234-K ‘Puma’ Infantry Fighting Vehicle, and Dilo ran through the pre-fire checks of its main cannon.  I ran through my systems checks, then turned and shouted back into the carrier compartment behind me.  “Get ready marines!” I ordered.  “Thirty seconds to dirt!”  Carried within our IFV was a team of six UN auxiliary marines, all Kolshians, in the rear compartment of the IFV.

I heard their team leader begin barking last minute instructions as I turned my attention to my final tasks.  I checked the targeting system of the mounted machine gun atop the turret, confirming our units radio frequencies, and checking the different sensors that fed into my command console.  As I did, I couldn’t help but think about how unreal this whole thing was.

The galaxy has changed so much so fast, I thought, finishing my checks.  A few months ago I wouldn’t have even dreamed that my home would rebel against the Commonwealth, or that I’d be leading part of a force to liberate it!  I looked down at the symbol on my harness; the white “UN” on a light blue patch.  Or that I’d be a soldier for a government of so-called predators.

After Nikonus’s admission that our species and the Farsul had genetically modified our closest friends, it wasn’t just those species who were justifiably outraged.  Myself and plenty of other Kolshians had been as well; but trying to right that wrong, especially under a government at war, was a surefire way to earn a cell in a PD facility.  We were tired of the growing numbers of the Commonwealth's lies, horrified by their crimes against the galaxy, and all wanted to do our part to help right those wrongs.  

That’s why, starting just after the Battle of Earth, myself and hundreds of Kolshians had braved our way to the territory of the UN and its allies.  Some of us had come on our own; others were helped by Human friendly governments, the UN itself, or some of its clandestine groups.  Some were refugees, others came looking to join the fight; many were accepted.

Like many others, my crew and I had enlisted as UN Peacekeepers, and from there had formed the core of the first Kolshian UN fighting unit.  We had humans in our unit, but they were mainly in the support roles; it was us who were the frontline and the face of our unit.  We’d been trained in “mechanized warfare,” a concept new to most of us.  Equipped with IFV’s modified for our particular limb setup, we’d be tasked with liberating Federation worlds from the shadowy cabal who’d run the galaxy behind the scenes, bearing the name of the Kolshian who saved the Human Marcel at the beginning of the war.

I shot a look at the old-fashioned picture taped to my console, brushing the tip of a tentacle over it.  We were so wrong about so many things, I thought, feeling a stab of deep regret in my hearts.  And there was so much suffering, so much loss because of it.  I’d believed the lies like everyone else; predator disease this, tainted that, evil, evil, evil.  

We’re all just people, I thought.  Who need different things to survive.  Who’ve suffered and been lied to.  Who just want to live.  I looked again at the picture of my partner and I, taken the day before I’d deployed.  We just had to get to know one another to see it, Sakura-chan.

I forced my gaze away from the woman waiting for me at home at the pilot's shout.  “Ten seconds!” They shouted.  “Good luck Raiders!”  The lander’s jets fired loudly and for a heartbeat it hung suspended in the air.  Then with a jolt its landing gear hit the ground hard, and the front ramp dropped.  Here we go!

“GO GO GO!” I shouted over the radio.  “Clear the lander! Delta-2 and Delta-3, right flank!  Delta-4, follow us left!  Weapons free!”

With a roar, Gelus pushed the IFV forward and down the ramp, the tracks rolling over the ramp and onto the spongy surface of the standard Federation style road.   Dilo primed the main cannon, and shouted excitedly over the roar of the engine, “Cannon primed!  Just give me a target!”

I took in our surroundings quickly as the lander shot back into the sky.  My platoon had been disgorged in the center of a shopping mall's parking area, where abandoned buses had been pushed aside to make room.  In the parks around the mall I could see the rest of Delta Company deploying through the falling rain, their IFV’s racing from their own landers.

I noticed that several buildings which overlooked the landing area had been leveled; recently too.  Someone lost their homes to give us a safe place to land, I thought.  Bet that saved us from being hit the minute our tracks left the ramp; those would have been a perfect place to hit us from.  The Aojans had made sacrifices to ensure my unit would make it here; now it was our job to make that sacrifice worth it.

“Marines, give us some security,” I ordered, as the Puma came to a halt.  I heard the rear doors open with a clang, and the sound of our marine complement thundering down the ramp.  I saw them spread out and surround the IFV, dropping into cover and scanning the area around us.

My radio crackled, and a voice I didn’t recognize came over the mic.  “Attention, UN forces, this is Lt. Chrus of 3rd Aojan Infantry, Sela Company.  We are approaching from your west; hold your fire.”  I saw motion from the indicated direction, and radioed my unit.  “All forces hold fire,” I said.  “Aojan forces approaching from the west.”

As each of the marine teams and other IFV commanders acknowledged my command, I saw a pair of Kolshians emerge from around a pile of rubble, weapons over their heads.  Each wore the green and gold armband of Aoja.  A fire team of marines approached and intercepted them, then brought them alongside my IFV after confirming their identity.

Reaching over my head, I unlocked the top turret and pushed the armored hatch open.   Fresh air flowed into the Puma, and rain splattered my uniform.  Gripping each side of the opening, I pulled myself out of the turret; I took a deep breath, savoring the moist air of my homeworld.  Then I looked down, facing the Aojan infantry who had come to meet us.

“Captain Yomus, 1st Auxiliary Mechanized, Delta Company,” I identified myself, waving a limb in greeting.  “Nice to meet you; even nicer to be home.”

“You’re one of ours?” asked one of the Aojans. I nodded.  “Got offworld before the fighting kicked off; wanted to find a way to make up for the shit our people did.  Joined up to help take her back, and right some of our ancestors wrongs.”  I looked around, at the towering smoke and distant explosions.  “Hell of a job you’ve done so far,” I said.  “I’m glad I made it back to finish it.”

“Thank you,” the lieutenant said.  “It’s been a fight, that’s for sure.  But we’re so close to the end; and thanks to you and the UN we can end it that much sooner.”

“Agreed,” I said.  “So, you’re the guys who’ll help us get through to the Capitol?”

“That’s us!” Chrus confirmed.  He pointed behind him.  “We’ve got Ada and Vil Companies spread out across Sector Ida; they’ll do what they can to keep most of the Feds off our route.  Sela Company will help cover you as best we can as you move up; lots of AT hiding in the rubble.  My platoon is with you, and we’ve got some guerillas headed over to help.”

“Glad to have you,” I said.  I activated my radio, switching frequencies.  “Command One this is Delta Lead,” I said, checking in.  “We’ve made contact with Aojan forces and are proceeding onto the assigned route.  Will update as necessary.

“Command One to Delta Lead, we read you,” a voice replied.  “Good luck down there; give them hell.”

“That’s what we’re here for Command,” I said, patting my Puma’s cannon.  “Delta Lead out.”.  I looked back at the Lieutenant.  “Delta is going to be moving north from here towards the Capitol,” I said.  “Where we should link up with Alpha and Beta Company in the Government District.  Do you know of anything between us and the Capitol?”

“There’s a few loyalist positions between here and the Capitol,” Chrus said.  “And by now they’re heavily dug in.  Your guns are gonna get a workout.”

“Looking forward to it,” I said.  “Let’s get a move on; with luck we’ll smash a hole in their lines and be finished by nightfall.”  I retreated back into the turret as Chrus rejoined his platoon.  After the marines boarded the IFV, I keyed my radio.  “Delta Company is on the move,” I said, and Gelus started us forward.  

Our tracks clattered as we rolled through the empty, rain-soaked streets of Asoa; first through the suburbs, where most houses sat dark and empty.  While most civilians had been evacuated, some had stayed, too stubborn to leave.  Others had wanted to help; we saw civilians manning outdoor kitchens or roadside field hospitals for soldiers and civilians alike.

At first they shied away from us, probably expecting Human troops.  They’re all back on the ships, I thought.  Command wanted us to be the first UN troops these people would see.  The rest of the unit, with most of our Humans, would be landing to set up a base for us near the spaceport.  

“They probably think we’re Human,” Gelus remarked, gaze sweeping over the people scattering at our approach.  

“Probably,” I agreed, keying the radio.  “Delta, let’s show these people who've come to help them finish the fight.  Keep your eyes on a swivel though; this area should be clear but you never know.  Then, despite the rain and the danger, I pulled myself up through the hatch, giving the civilians a friendly wave.  For a moment the civilians alongside the side of the street stopped and stared; shocked to see Kolshians serving beneath the UN flag.  Then, like a rolling tide, a cheer went up that followed us as we passed.

“That’s better,” I muttered, glad I was able to assuage some of these people’s fears.  Behind me, I could see the other IFV commanders similarly waving.  Reaching down I grabbed a pouch from within the vehicle, reached inside and started tossing the contents towards the civilians.  Food and water, I thought, seeing cameras flash as civilians gathered the supplies we threw their way.  

The Colonel said we’ve come not as conquerors but liberators, I thought.  I hope we show these people that’s true.  My fellow Aojans had been at war for months; I couldn’t imagine what they’d faced.  I knew that following behind us were both UN and Zurulian relief ships who’d spend far more time here than we would, but I was glad to contribute in even a small way.

Eventually we left the suburbs, and after our PR task was complete we buttoned up once more.  We reached the Terrun district next, where the buildings grew taller and the streets grew narrower.  I recalled that this is where many of the offworld corporations had their offices.  We passed the stock exchange, Aojan troops standing guard outside, and had to climb over the ruins of the tram line.  It had collapsed, blocking the road, and now served as the line separating the front and the rear of the battlefield.

We turned onto Highway One, where we first started encountering signs of combat.  Gunfire sounded from all around us; some close, some far.  We could see muzzle flashes as we passed side streets, where rebels and loyalists exchanged fire.  In the distance I could hear the thud of artillery.  I instinctively tightened my grip on my weapon.  Shouldn’t be long now, I thought with growing unease, hearts racing.

Ahead of us I saw the sign for Primus Avenue.  I glanced at my map.  Government District is a few blocks further, I thought.  As we neared the intersection, I saw that the opposite side had been barricaded; buses lined the road, blocking the road.  I felt a pit in my stomach, and was about to call for a halt when I saw movement inside the buses.  “Contact!” I called, swiveling my gun towards the movement.

Gunfire erupted from the barricade, peppering the front armor of the Gambit.  Outside, I saw a pair of Aojan soldiers fall, and the other IFV’s screeched to a halt.  “Scatter!” I ordered, and the IFV’s split up, spreading out through the intersection.

Outside, the Aojans took cover where they could, returning fire at the ambush.  “Marines, give them a paw!” I ordered, and barely heard the reply as I opened fire at the barricade.  I felt the thud as the rear ramp dropped though, and the gunfire from our side increased.

Squeezing the trigger, I sent a stream of heavy armor-piercing rounds into the barricade, shredding the sides of the buses.  I spied another muzzle flash to the right and above the barricade, and shifted my fire to the second-floor apartment it had come from.  The heavy rounds shredded the building facade, and chunks of shattered concrete crashed to the ground below.

“Incoming!” came a shout over the radio.  I caught a flash in the corner of my eye, and turned to see a rocket coming right for me.  Shit! I thought, swiveling my gun.  There was a deafening bang and a flash of fire outside, and the Gambit rocked.  Head ringing, I put my crosshairs over where I thought it had come from and fired.

“Gambit took the hit on the reactive plates,” Gelus announced, more calmly than I felt.  “Surface plate destroyed, armor intact.  Looks like it came from the third floor, building directly to the left of the barricade.”  I looked, and saw gunfire from the floor he’d indicated.

“Dilo, HE, straight into that building,” I ordered, sending a burst of gunfire into what appeared to be an office.  That should make them keep their heads down, I thought, firing again.  The IFV’s turret swung to the side, and after a moment to acquire his target, Dilo fired.

There was a whine before the cannon thundered, sending a 30mm shell shooting from the railgun at several hundred miles an hour.  The impact was almost immediate; the side of the building disappeared from the force of the impact of the tungsten shell.  Then it detonated, blowing out windows and filling the floor with fragments and fire.  The gunfire didn’t start again.

Outside, the rest of the enemy gunfire had ended as well, the loyalists and Fedds withdrawing at the failure of their ambush.  “Delta-2 and 3, get to work on that barricade,” I ordered.  “I don’t want to miss any of them stuck around, and we need to get through there.  HE, make us a hole.  Marines, mount up.  Once the Puma’s have finished clearing a path, we push on.”

It took only a few rounds from Delta-2 and Delta-3 to blow apart the buses blocking our path, and our small convoy continued down Highway One.  We began to encounter the positions Chrus had mentioned earlier, clearing them with cannon and gunfire.  Over the radio, I could hear the rest of the Raiders making progress as well, supported by rebel infantry, militia, and others that sounded too professional.  Those must be the Legionnaires, I thought.

After what seemed like forever, we finally broke through into the central Government District.  Through the slowing rainfall, past a series of low office buildings I could finally see the Capitol.  The intricate building, its exterior marred by artillery and fire, stood at the center of an open park, scarred by lines of trenches, shell craters, and dugouts.  Ahead of us stood another barricade, made of rubble piled up between two office buildings.  As we approached, exterminator units burst from concealment and opened fire.

“Take cover!” Lt. Chrus shouted over the radio, and the infantry outside dove to take cover.  I opened fire, drawing attention away from the infantry as I identified the forces attacking us.  Four APC’s, I thought.  Plenty of ground troops.

“Delta, advance, and take out those APC’s!” I ordered, as a few rockets started landing around us.  Beside us, Delta-2 moved forward, pushing a destroyed car aside.  Suddenly they were rocked by an explosion, reactive plates exploding as their left track was blown off.  Their turret swiveled, when suddenly a bright green bolt of plasma hit their side, burning deep into the armor.  A second plasma bolt hit just below the cannon, jolting the vehicle once more.  

“Brakh!” I shouted, sending a stream of heavy rounds in the direction of the rocket, while I searched for the plasma launcher.  “Delta-2,” I said, watching as several shapes on the top floor of the leftmost building disappeared.  “Status?”  Nothing.  “Delta-2, come in!”  Come on, show us something! I thought.  If you’re alive, get out of that wreck!  The left tracks were a mess, black smoke rising as dripping oil ignited.  The cannon was still, and I saw an ugly molten scar where the turret met the body.

I let out a sigh of relief as the rear hatch swung open, and I saw three Kolshian’s pull themselves out of the smoking vehicle.  The commander helped the gunner limp along, while the driver seemed to be cradling their arm.  Worse for wear, but alive, I thought.  Thank the Spirits.  The vehicle had been disabled, but I’d prefer to lose a vehicle over the crew any day.

Ahead of us, the Exterminator APC’s were being torn apart by the cannons of the rest of Delta.  I watched one of the exterminator APC’s explode, its turret shooting skyward on a pillar of flame as its magazine exploded.  Another was rocked back on its wheels by a direct hit, our armor-piercing shell punching through the vehicle and exploding.  

The third began to reverse backwards, towards the safety of one of the buildings when a marine scored a hit with an anti-tank launcher.  The projectile hit the drivers compartment, punching through and exploding. As fire erupted from writhing, the APC veered off to the side, out of control.

The last Exterminator APC reversed at top speed, and I saw it disappear from view as they reversed around a pile of dirt and sandbags, Delta-3 moving in pursuit.  Another plasma bolt hit the ground in front of them, and they wisely reversed.  “Delta, did anyone see where that plasma came from?” I asked.  I’m 

After a moment, the radio crackled, and Delta-4 said, “Looks like it came from the fifth floor of the Capitol, sir.  Third or fourth window to the left of the last column.”

“Thanks Delta-4,” I replied.  “3, 4; move up to support the infantry. We’ll deal with that plasma.”  The rockets are bad enough, I thought.  But that plasma will burn a hole straight through us; nothing the reactive plates can do.

I looked down at Dilo.  “See those windows, fifth floor, below the rotunda?” I asked.  “4 said the third or fourth window to the left of that last column?”  Another plasma bolt spat from the window indicated, and Gelus reversed out of its path.  I swore.  “That one?” I asked.

Dilo turned his gun, the autoloader clanking as it set another round in the cannon's breech.  “I see it,” Dilo replied, and Gelus shot forward as another bolt hit nearby.  Either Gelus is a better driver than I give him credit for, I thought.  Or they’re terrible shots up there.

“Good,” I said, turning back and sending a stream of fire in that direction.  “I don’t want to anymore.”

Archivists note: While it was primarily Human Peacekeepers who fought for the UN during the Orion War against the Federation, other species would join their ranks.  Venlil, Yotul and Zurulians were the first species who would ‘wear’ the UN blue and fight beneath Earth’s banner, but others would follow.  Gojid, Krakotl, Kolshian, Farsul and many others would enlist with the UN and fight for Humanity as citizens of Earth during and after the war.

The question of non-Humans, especially originating from hostile governments, initially caused intense discussion within the Peacekeepers.  There were numerous concerns; questions of dual loyalty, the possibility of enemy infiltration, and even blue-on-blue attacks.  In addition, bias against certain species couldn’t be forgotten, especially those who’d done the most harm to Humanity.

All of these concerns together spurred the creation of specialized “auxiliary” units.  The members of these mixed-species units were official UN Peacekeepers, but had the choice of dual citizenship; maintaining their native citizenship while becoming a citizen of Earth.  In addition, while aliens would be the bulk of forward facing units, Humans would still make up a good deal of the logistical and support personnel.

These units provided several benefits.  The first was obvious; they provided additional manpower with which to fight an enormous, galactic arm-spanning war.  The rest were a mix of practical and public relations.  The auxiliary units allowed Human units to rotate off of occupied worlds; instead of “predators,” Federation civilians would be overseen by their fellow “prey.”  And during operations undertaken to liberate Federation worlds, their people would see familiar aliens leading the way.  Finally, a variety of species “doing their part” for the UN was hoped would counter xenophobia in the Human population following the Battle of Earth and resulting fighting.

Among the most accomplished of these criminally unknown units was the 1st Auxiliary Mechanized Infantry Division “Recel’s Raiders.”  This primarily Kolshian volunteer unit was at the forefront of several planetary invasions, such as that of Aoja, Tiasa’s Gulf and Drejkas.  During the invasion of Aafa, they were one of the first units to make planetfall, and secured a major military base outside the capital.

Since the conclusion of the Orion War, the Raiders have persisted, eventually losing the auxiliary title and integrating its ranks with a greater variety of species.  Kolshians remain the dominant member species of the unit, however, as many Kolshians who enlist with the Peacekeepers seek to carry on the legacy of both the unit's namesake and their predecessors.  -A. Piers, UN Office of Reconciliation.

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