Sirius was busy scolding his sister. Alistair only responded by pointing out and then correcting his pronunciation mistakes. Sirius knew she was getting under his skin. Due to his, frankly, irrational attention to order, everything was "orderly" in his everyday life, and Alistair knew that. But just as quickly as Sirius got angry, the hate quickly dissipated, a side-effect of the rigorous mental training. While not exactly humane, some officers at boot camps subject their rooks to "mental training", churning out people that automatically dampen any emotion when it's too much. Sirius shuddered. He never wanted that, he was much better letting his emotions take over him. Then again, how many situations have being calm saved him? Countless times, he surmised.
He seriously considered dropping out and then going to another, more humane, boot camp. But it was already too late, if he dropped out now, all his effort will be wasted.
With the snap of a familiar finger, Sirius was literally snapped back into reality. "Oi! Camelot to Sirius!" Alistair said, annoyingly snapping her fingers in front of Sirius. Sirius grasped her hand tight, letting it go a moment later. He cleared his throat to speak.
A shrill scream reverberates through the hanger bay, both siblings turn to their right sides, to the source. A large piece of cylindrical metal, perfectly capable of flattening a man, was falling onto a scared female technician. Immediately, they both ran as fast as they can, adrenaline coursing through both of their veins, making it seem like time slowed. Alistair was ahead of Sirius, thanks to her exo-suit. They both widened their eyes. The metal was already only a few meters above the girl. Sirius reached out his right arm at her, more in desperation than to actually save her.
"NO!"
Suddenly, a figure burst forth from the crowd, faster than even Alistair, and carried the woman bridal style. The siblings looked at the mysterious saviour dumbfounded; he/she had a black overcoat with silver, Plasteel pauldrons and gorget, a nano-vest in his inner plate, armored boots, and a helmet with no eyeholes or slits, similar in form to the Diclonious Restraint Helmet. The man was a fair distance away from the metal, which upon closer inspection, was actually a jet engine.
Applause ruled in the crowd, even the Star Siblings, often bickering amongst one another, stopped momentarily to applaud the stranger. The crowd looked at the jet engine, and they were shocked again. The jet engine was...floating, seemingly unperturbed by gravity. The man was reaching out to it, seemingly willing it to stay afloat. A moment later, he eased his arm, and so did the jet engine; it crashed into the ground harmlessly, only sustaining minor scratches.
This time, the crowd was too shocked to applaud him, they had just seen the impossible happen before their eyes, the manipulation of the law of gravity. The crowd roared in awe at the man, shocking even him for a moment. The man momentarily glared at the foolish mechanics that dropped it, said mechanics flinched at the cold glare of the man. Even though they couldn't see any eyes, the sheer killing intent that radiated from him made even their bravest flinch. Many, especially from the teenagers, flocked to the man to ask for a selfie or an autograph, to which he politely declined, even Alistair was gleefully joining them. Sirius looked at Alistair then at the man, dumbfounded. Was he really that majestic to warrant that behaviour from her? He thought, a sliver of envy welling up within him, before he swatted the thought like any other fly.
Of course, she would act like that, during this devastating war, public perception on the psychics changed drastically. From dangerous criminals and cursed children to their knights in shining armor, cleansing the universe of filthy Voidborne. Psionics were shortly "discovered" after a nature broadcast about creepy worms on Atrius Prime were released to the masses. Since then, sudden cases of "awakening" of psychic powers were reported all over the Imperium's worlds. At first, they were scorned for their unknown and dangerous powers; such was the nature of Humanity.
But after the surprise war of the Voidborne, which we call the Great Interstellar War, The Round Table was forced to acknowledge the supernatural powers of the psychics, giving them their own Task Force made up of psychics from all the IAFs departments and corps. They usually wore black overcoats and robes for mobility, as opposed to the Alloyed Ballistic Vests the IAF wear. They also have various psychic and physical augments on them to maximize their potential. The normal way in the Imperium to get augments were to prove yourself worthy in battle or in the backlines of Command.
After all, at least the psychics are humanoid, unlike the 8-legged Skitters the Voidborne often used as scouts, or the 3km frame of the behemoths of Reila. As the younglings were busy ganging up on the poor psychic, Sirius sneakily trotted to the Marine Section and came upon a door with two plaques that said [すいｔ] on the top and [Suits] on the bottom. Sirius briefly looked at the plaques, before entering the room. He stood upon an average-sized room, with several futuristic alcoves housing majestic dark-blue armors. The harsh LED light bombarding his eyes. He looked around. There was no one here, and most of the armors were taken already, only two remain. The armors vaguely looked like Iron Man's breastplate except it was blue, and had pauldrons that jut out more. Sirius looked at the remaining two armors, the first was a simple V. Marine Alloyed Layer Armor, the second, Sirius surmised, was Prestige Armor.
The Prestige Armor was much like normal Marine armor, except the helmet had a golden crest in the middle of it, much like the Spartans. There were also gilded parts on the vulnerable sides of the armor, being both practical and educational. Those included: clavicle, waist, shoulders, and knees. Like the augments, you needed to earn the armor to get ahold of it. Sirius awed the craftmanship of the armor for a brief moment, before shaking his head and putting on the Marine Armor. The Marine Armor had a built-in exoskeleton, allowing the user to travel long distances with heavy gear. When you put on the helm and activated it, there would a HUD displaying your name, status, BPM, and ammo reserves.
As Sirius put on the helmet, which was similar to a biker's helmet, the display inside activated, showing an azure theme.
[Sirius Ichigawa]
[Rank: Sergeant]
[Age: 20]
[BPM: 114]
[Hydration: 87%]
[Consumption: 68%]
[Current Ammo: Stable]
[No messages while you were gone]
Sirius sighed in his helm, his mother hadn't messaged him for five months now, which was odd considering her behaviour. Why was she doing this? Did she ghost me? What happened to her while I was gone? Is she okay?
Before Sirius could get deeper into despair, he shook his head. No. 'Worrying about that would only hinder myself and my sister, I'll cross that bridge when I get there.' he thought. Once Sirius was done with the armor, he proceeded back into the Hangar Bay. When he was out, he saw that the teenagers where still hounding the psychic, much to his dismay, and also a familiar face.
"Rian!"
The homosexual perked his ears up and looked behind him, seeing Sirius in full Marine Layer Armor, waving at him. "How's my Dronemaster?" Sirius teased the chartreuse-hair man. Rian grinned at his tone, before replying: "All good, Sirius, how are you?"
"I'm fine, dude. Who knew we were gonna be assigned to the same squad?"
"Yeah, you can say the same thing to those guys too." Rian pointed to the left side of him, Sirius followed until his eyes locked upon a familiar duo; a blonde, blue-haired man, and a sheepish, tall, red-eyed man. Both have normal hairstyles. They were the ones who tried, and critically failed, at wooing Alistair.
Immediately, Sirius slowly and sternly walked towards them, the boys seemed to notice this, the black-haired one discreetly retreated to the back, while the blonde took point.
Sirius was now only a hair's breath away from them, all sound seemed to drown out, only focusing on the their vicinity. Sirius reached out one hand in a handshake, the blonde looked at the hand with caution. "Hi, my name is Sirius, I hope we can we can reconcile our past and look to the future." Sirius honeyed his words, the blonde seemed to mull it over for a moment, before clasping his hand to Sirius. Sirius pulled hard on the young man's hand, almost making him stumble, and once he was right next to his ear he said this.
"Don't hit on my sister again. Or else, that particular injury won't be your last."
The man shuddered in fear, and he weakly nodded. Sirius evilly grinned, before releasing the young man from his grasp. The man timidly retreated to his friend who was a bit shorter than him, looking down.
*BEEP*
The PA brimmed to life with a distinctive beep, like second nature, all the personnel looked to the upper corner of the hanger bay, where the speaker sat. [All personnel, we have breached the atmosphere of Forge and are now on top of it's Fortress City. May the Marines please board their respective Eagles and dock at the designated areas. May the Founder be with us.] An alluring voice said over the speaker, with a slight German accent.
"MAY THE FOUNDER BE WITH US!". That phrase reverberated throughout the hanger bay, it was a salutation to the one who created this great yet equally despotic empire, Arthur Pendragon, aptly named the Founder after his death. All the people saluted; by thumping their closed fists on their hearts.
[-]
As Sirius got on the Eagle; a descendant of the American Osprey, he looked back to the hangar. Dozens, if not hundreds of Marines, swarmed to their Eagles from the alluring order, men and women of all sizes swiftly ran to their helo, while the technicians waved goodbye and wished them luck. One particular technician blew an imaginary kiss onto a black-robed man, which he responds with a simple wave. Sirius smiled, he really loved seeing people be united, and this scene was no exception, those smiles and happy faces...
Inwardly, Sirius promised to himself to protect those smiles. After all, that's what he came here for, right? "Oi, Retard. Get the fuck up here or I'm leaving your sorry ass!" A brunette crassly said to him. "Yeah, yeah." Sirius didn't even try to retort, for him, this was almost a daily occurrence.
Sirius stepped up on the Eagle, the strings of Fate already aligning for him. This would be a start of a story that shakes the entire galaxy, and beyond...
[-]
It was heavily raining by the time Sirius and Co. got to their destination. The Osprey lookalike dampened it's thrusters, slowing it down into a crawl, the backside ramp was exposed to see more than a dozen people waiting to be dropped off. Some were crouching, some were still sitting on their chairs, while some just stood despite the heavy turbulence.
Men in blue armor came out of the ramp, intensely scanning the perimeter, then more distinctive boot sounds from their back thumped upon the steel helipad. A man and a woman, both in easy-to-spot armors came out of the Eagle. The man, wearing a gilded version of their armor and a crest in the middle of his helm, slowly looked at the condition of his squad. He had words across his breastplate that read; [アンダース] [Anders] .The woman was wearing an exo-suit that made clear her dainty body, she had also wore a similar helmet to the man, though without the gild and the crest.
"Alrighty, everyone, form up, I don't want any discrepancies in the cadence, you hear me?!" Major Anders, the man with the gilded suit, said from the private frequency–shouting was costly in the heavy rain, especially on a middle-aged man like him. "Sir, yes, sir!" The men and woman practically screamed at his eardrums, but that was okay. 'It showed their potent enthusiasm.' Anders thought, in his fourty-one years of life, this squad was the best men–and woman–he had.
"All right, gents, let's make Arthur proud! Oorah!" ; "Oorah!" the men and Alistair whooped, before forming up in vertical lines and beginning their march. "We'll regroup with the others in the Inner Sector plaza, make sure to be wary of your surroundings." He warned.
A few clicks of walking later, the men and Alistair started to feel that something was off; the place, was barren. The cars were seemingly abandoned, the weapons taken somewhere and the personnel gone from the base, like they were never there. It was a ghost town, figuratively speaking. Sirius especially was peeved about the matter, since he expected the roaring cries of welcome from the base's inhabitants, but there were none. All the men–and woman–were anxious, Anders can tell that, they expected to be met with the drill sergeants hollering, the unwavering cadence of conscripts, and the background noise of various vehicles, but none were heard. He gulped, what the hell is the Captain thinking these days? Maybe he was being controlled by that vixen, Kara Von Reicksland. 'Like roses, they all have thorns.' Anders quoted. That was directly sampled from a popular playwright a few centuries ago, before the Great Collapse, by the name of 'Janus_37734' or more commonly known as Janus The Playwright. It couldn't be more true now, Anders had seen a lot of women, and he can tell anyone that he had not had a good experience with any of them. He gulped, 'Women are really terrifying' he inwardly thought. If any women heard that, he would be pummeled, which was kinda hypocritical of them.
Back to Sirius, he was busy thinking of something, anything that can explain the barren state of the Fortress City, he sighed, all this thinking was getting him nowhere, he should be investigating physically, but his orders forbid him to that. So he walked while thinking, the rain now had been reduced to a light drizzle. Sirius would occasionally look up at the sky, to calm himself from stress, but when he looked up he saw strange formations in it. 'What...the hell?' Sirius momentarily stopped, making someone behind him bump into him.
"Hey! I'm walking here!" The man shouted, he sounded sharp and had a very distinctive New York accent. Sirius phased his complaints out of his mind, and then looked at the sky, something was...
*WARNING!*
*UNKNOWN WARP BUBBLE DETECTED!*
The alarm on his helm blared, and so did many others, but just as he processed what it said, the bubble finished it's job and it belched out it's maker.
Dozens, maybe hundreds of steel behemoths all over 300+ meters in size, the biggest one being 8500 meters, a Pendragon-class. All eyes were agape at the majestic and harrowing site before them, Sirius squinted his eyes to take a look at it's insignia; a black-outline shield with an anchor inside, with two golden lions on both sides of said anchor, on a crimson background. Sirius raced in his mind to know what that is, it felt vaguely familiar to him. His mind went through a hundred possibilities, then ten thousand, until he finally found what he was looking for. A flashback of his father, now a veteran of the Great Interstellar War, saying to his five-year-old self of the greatest example of human ingenuity: Grand Fleets.
He was sitting on a rocking chair, retelling his story of the battle for Mankind against the Voidborne: Karnea C. Sirius, a ten-year-old at the time was eagerly listening to his father's story, while Alistair was busy at her homework.
"And then, a *BOOM* resounded in the battle field, and we all looked up to rhe sky, where dozens of our nation's prized ships were in orbit, DECIMATING the xenos!"
His father looked to be in his sixties, yet his deceivingly youthful face and vigor betrays that. He was Grant Ichigawa, the man who cleverly named the Star Siblings. He had a Pakistani beard style, all of it grayed, and his hair was slicked back, also gray.
"Once it was all over, we looked at OUR planet, a tear rolling down my face. It was a tear of joy, my son. When I looked up at the sky, I saw the symbol of my saviours: an anchor inside a shield, guarded by golden lions on each side!" Grant said, clearly displaying his nationalistic views.
"Who are they called, Dad?" Sirius, always the inquisitive child, asked his father. "Son...um...What were they called again?", Grant said, trying to recall the shady memory.
"Ah! I think they were called a..."
"...a GRAND FLEET?!" Sirius, Alistair, Rian, the blond and the red-eyed man all said in unison. Anders looked at the group, dumbfounded. 'What an impressive display of coordination.' he thought and applauded inwardly, before looking up at the Grand Fleet.
"B-but that's impossible! Grand Fleets are only allowed in Calradia or on the failing fronts of the Frontier! Why is there one here?!" the blonde man questioned, incredulous. Sirius looked at him, and then his breastplate to see two words on top of each other reading; [コール] [Cole].
"I don't know, but at least this confirms my suspicions." Alistair said grimly. The red-eyed man turned to her "What suspicions?", he said in an almost demanding tone. Alistair looked at the man's breastplate, reading the two words on it; [サム] [Sam]
"That we are involved in something bigger than we can even imagine." Alistair said darkly, making everyone shudder near her.
Sirius and Co. all collectively looked up at the sky, and all collectively had the same thoughts;
"What the hell did we get ourselves into?"
In the Inner Sector...
"Finally, they're here!" A tall man said, seemingly tired of waiting, his overcoat fluttering because of actual winds. He had been waiting for the fleet for hours now, on this courtyard, alone. You could tell he was disgruntled.
"Oh no~, has the usually stern captain fallen to grace~?" A teasing voice said behind Jayden. Jayden turned around to see a girl with an average height, middle-tier bosom, hollow crimson eyes and long jet-black hair. She was wearing a custom-version of the Alloyed Vest; a special multilayered regenerative nano-ablative armor, only focused on the shin, lower face, clavicle, thighs, feet and hands. Prioritizing mobility instead of the damage done. Her armor looked sinister and ready to kill. Black with gilded crimson, her pauldrons had patterns similar to scales, so did the rest of her armor. In between those scales, were a red, glaring glow, not enough to be seen afar, but enough to be noticed when she's close. She wore a shoulder strap spanning to her right collarbone to her left waist, all filled with knives.
She approached the Jayden and looked to the horizon to the Grand Fleet, a sadistic glint in her eyes and a hollow smile on the outside. "Don't worry, Ilya, I won't fall." Jayden sarcastically said. The girl, named Ilya, giggled like a child, "Anyways, you can let go of that fake smile now, I already know your true colors, and there's no one really here." Jayden briefly looked around the courtyard. Honestly, there was barely any notable fauna here, only flat grass, some small bushes and a dying oak tree decorated it. He silently cursed whoever was managing this garden.
Jayden looked at Ilya again, an impossibly wide smile present on her face, she looked at the incoming fleet before her. "Say," she started. "I wonder how many prey are bottled up in here, ready to be eaten by a hungry predator..." ; "Command said it was about 150,000 men in reserves, what about it?" Jayden casually remarked. "150,000..." she paused, letting that sink in. If possible, her twisted smile grew even wider. "All of those men and women, served on a silver platter...Ah~, I'm getting chills just thinking about it..." The girl shuddered, hugging herself tightly.
Jayden gulped, remembering Creo, or rather, what was left of Creo. 'I pray to whomever meets her.' Jayden silently prayed. "Ilya, you shouldn't do that to your own comrades, I'm sure there are plenty more on the other side." Jayden assured, trying to keep her off the Fleet's crew. Ilya glared at him, pouting like a child who had her forcefully taken away. Jayden glared back in response. The two stood there for a minute or two, glaring at each other. Suddenly, the tension eased when a third voice barged in; "Oi! Stop that!" a young man barked at them, in a delinquent voice, no less. Both glares then landed on poor Flameheart, who freezed instantly when their eyes locked, only easing when one of those pairs' eyes eased and turned back to the fleet. After a few minutes, Ilya's glare ceased too, pouting and softly muttering about, "Unfair advantages..."
Slowly, more and more steps resounded in the courtyard, after five minutes all of Nova Squad 47 had gathered at the courtyard. Jayden looked at the men and women before him, and genuinely smiled. 'Their world will surely tremble before the Imperium's might.' Jayden thought, like many, he was also a nationalist, although to a more dampened extent.