July 3 15,000(ATS)
-2 years after formal declaration of war-
It rains heavily on the muddy field. Rainwater pooling on the littered craters. Bullet casings and weapons stick out of the mud among the wreck of tanks, ruins of homes and other buildings while maggots and crows eat the rotting flesh of decaying bodies, their smell mixing with the petrichor as sounds of violent thunder echo with flashes of light illuminating the grey clouds.
Confederate artillery bombard the federation trench line as their infantry battalions charge in the millions together with tanks painted in dark grey providing fire support. Each battalion carrying their banner.
The federation soldiers on the other side with their dirty brown and green armor and uniforms, fire back at the incoming invaders, killing them one by one only for ten more to take their place.
"Hurry lads we need to hold this sector!" A sergeant shouts. Rallying troops at his position. "Radio! Where is our air support!?!"
"They're occupied in sector nine and three sergeant!" The radio man says, his radio still at his ear. "Fucking connies are advancing on all fronts!"
Two shells land near them, ripping apart some soldiers near the explosions. A soldier runs to them nearly slipping and almost getting decapitated by laser fire. Grabbing the sergeant on his arm with a frantic look.
"Sarge the connies are getting closer to the line!" He yells. "We cant hold them for long!"
Tracer rounds whizz and crack inches above the defenders head. One bullet bouncing off of the sergeants helmet.
Confederate infantry and tanks move closer. Their tank guns nearing point blank range. The federation soldiers struggle to take out the tanks with TOWS and laser cannons but are blown up instead.
"Get us our fucking air support now!" He barks. Holding the radioman by the collar. "I dont care if its them pointy ears flying!"
"But sarge!"
"Just do it!" The sergeant lets go of him and faces the soldier that grabbed him.
"This is Alpha Z-9 to any air units do you read!?!"
"Lad!" He holds the soldier on his collar."I want heavy weapons focusing on those tanks! We have to hold at all cost! Understood!?!"
"Y-yes sergeant!" The soldiers responds.
"Good. Double time!"
As the soldier runs to the heavy weapons team to their East, the radio comes to life, catching the attention of the radio man.
"Alpha Z-9 This is 'Warhammer'. We are armed and combat ready. What's our targets?"
In orbit. A Federation Blomkamp class carrier launch drop pods in the dark side of the planet. The drop pods firing its rockets to decay orbit and change course straight down the planet.
•••
Jenna wakes up with a yawn, the sun's rays lighting up the room. Rising from her bed she looks around her bedroom. The room's wall's painted in blue gray and laptop on her table with lots of papers and documents.
Wearing only a shirt and short shorts, she grabs a jacket hanging from the door. With another yawn, she walks out.
Arriving at the living room, she turns on the holo screen mounted on the wall. Changing the channel to the newsfeed.Two news anchors telling information about yesterdays events.
Yawning again, she walks to the kitchen and takes a mug and instant coffee packet. Pouring water into the thermos from the sink, she notices a note pinned on the refrigerator door. 'Left for work early. Emily' written on it.
Checking Emily's room from the door she see's that the place is a mess. The study table is unkept with papers all over it. Emily's clothes hanging out the drawer and a panty on the floor. The trash can too full. And the bed not fixed with a pink bra hanging at the edge of the bed.
"Did she grow up or not?" Jenna says to herself.
Sighing, she tries to ignore the mess but notices a yellow piece of paper underneath the blanket. Moving aside the blanket, the paper reveals to be a leaflet. A military recruitment leaflet with a list showing recruitment stations in the Rhombus Colony Cluster.
•••
Rhombus colony cluster. A cluster of giant space habitats located in the Rhombus star system's asteroid belts and scattered space stations, with only one planet.
The local government has been very busy since since the war began, now acting as a military and refugee hub because of its proximity to the frontlines. Day after day refugee ships would arrive fleeing from the carnage. What made it unnerving was the small number of people aboard.
Instead of millions, they were either in the thousands or in the hundreds.
Or none at all.
Even with the refugee crisis, the people of the cluster continues life normally. Simply ignoring the war exists and that it will never reach them. And see's refugees as new colonists to populate the rusty planet called Rustleton.
Local shops, malls, restaurants continue business as usual, people bonding in the parks enjoying the view of the clean rivers and healthy plant life.
Freighters and galleon class cargo ships arrive with resources, food, and wealth to trade with the people of the cluster. Both for its civillain sector and the industrial sectors which include factories, shipyards, and various other economic necessities. Including the military garrisoned in the system.
Currently, a squadron of navy corvettes is being repaired in one of the shipyard's repair hangars. One of the corvette engine's. Ship 115, is being repaired by an engineer dressed in a blue industrial coverall with a patch with the words "Merlot Shipwright Industries" on the engineer's back. And a tag on the left chest with the name Emily.
Two other engineers, a tall stocky man, is working on the ship's crew berth repairing the wirings and computer consoles. And a female faunasian with deer ears scanning for other damages on the ship assisted by a drone.
The fifty meters long ship looks like a flying cigar with radiators for wings, when the radiators are deployed off course, along with various antenna's pointed towards the ship's fore.
Exiting the engine compartment, Emily takes off her helmet and goggles, her ponytail falling down and grabs a tablet to view the engine she is working on.
Damaged parts of the engine projected as red in the 3D model.
While on the tablet, the tall stocky man exits the ship's crew area and walks up to her.
"Hey Emily, you finished with the engine?" The man asks, pointing at the ship. "Navy wants this ship back in action quickly."
"Not yet. But Im almost done" She answers.
"The ship's engines are fine but lots of electrical components are ripped apart including automatic controls. The fuel pumps, compressor and coolant pipes are undamaged. The crew is lucky the manual controls still works." Emily says wiping away the sweat from her brows since the inside of the ship is very hot without the cooling systems and ship's air conditioning unit turned on.
"Thats still alot of work if you ask me."Felicia walks up behind them with her drone beside her. Its tentacle like manipulators hanging below its squarish body and spherical sensor as it hovers.
"This ship's been attached to the Cerenian Relief Fleet fighting for six months without R and R. Off course it needs alot of work." Thorn says to Felicia and Emily.
"Well other than that." Felicia pauses as she fixes her glasses and looks types on her digi tab to project a Holographic model of the ship from the hovering robot. "We still need to give it new armor, structural supports, life support, radiators, sensor units. And after that. The usual diagnostics test." Felicia adds as Thorn writes down the necessary repairs on his notepad.
"Thorn, we have digi tabs for that." Emily says looking at the notepad she and other people see as ancient.
"I know. But I'd rather go old school. Cant delete these notes easily."
Swiping the screen to the ship schematics, Emily's smiles. Especially at the ships classification. 'Fighter class Gunship' and the many weapon systems eqquiped.
Eight lasers. Eight autocannons. Four 25 round external missile pods, four 15 internal missile pods and a gauss cannon. The ships is armed to the teeth.
"Still cant believe a ship this small is this well armed." Emily says zooming on the ships weapons schematics with her fingers.
"It aint nicknamed the 'Cigar of Death' for nothing." Thorn points at the decal on the ship's hull. A grim reaper with the cigar and the words 'Cigar of Death' written above the reaper with its number. 115 Written below. "It's one of the best gunships in service."
"Goes to show how good of a crew this ship has." Felicia says to them.
"Don't all ships get nicknames and decals?" Emily asks.
"No. Only the most skilled and long surviving crew are allowed to have decals like these when they earn it." Thorn explains.
"Thank the navy boys for explaining it to us old crayon loving jarheads."
"whats with the crayons thing?" Emily asks.
"When you enlist you'll get used to our language." Thorn says to her pulling out a melted screw with his pliers.
Felicia enters the crew compartment. As soon as she steps inside, a piece of metal falling in front of her and color coded wires dangling.
"And yes, the inside is still ugly."
"What's the marine corps like?" Emily asks Felicia.
"Fifty percent Brutal. Fifty percent Boring. Most of the time we just fight aliens and only fight other humans when the army cant handle it from planet to planet. The boring part is being on the carrier for months on end. Were basically a tool to drive a nail that cant be driven by a hammer."
For another few hours, the necessary repairs are quickly done with the help of repair drones and the advanced tools they possess. Felicia using aluminum gel and welder to secure the armor for the life support systems buried beneath layer upon layer of titanium and composite armor plates including the crew area.
Thorn in the crew area fixes and replaces the wrecked life support and CO2 scrubbers and atmosphere generator responsible for the air the crew is breathing. Parts of the ship's computer servers and parts lay in the floor.
Emily continues to work on the circuits connected to the engine and the avionics. When the circuits are all connected in one area she ties and organizes them with some ziptie. And for the tenth or twelfth time, she inspects the fuel tank and oxidizer tanks for any damage.
'Better safe than sorry'. A lesson taught to her to always remember.
With the engine section done she works on the radiators. The radiators are relatively easy. The problem thoigh is the amonia. Wearing a gas mask, she holds a gallon and drains the amonia with a pump.
Two other engineers. A young girl like Emily albeit with yellow eyes and an old man, fixing a pipe inside a panel on another corvette. Ship 116. Just beside Emily and the ship they are incharge of repairs. The old man Sees Emily working on the drive cone. One of them sighing.
"Sir. Are you alright?" The young woman asks.
The old man fixing the pipes looks at Emily again and back at the engineer standing beside him.
"Im alright. Its just the little woman over there. The one with the pony tail?" The senior says pointing a wrench at Emily.
The woman looks at Emily as she chats with her two companions on the ship, having finished removing the amonia. She feels at awe with her beauty when Emily removes her mask even with a smudge of grease on her cheek. Making her smile.
"What about her?"
"Your new here right?" The old man asks. As if changing the topic.
"Yes sir. Im an OJT sir."
"Dunkirk University?" He points his index finger up.
"Yes sir. What does my university have to do with her exactly?"
"She's a Dunkirk University graduate. Unfortunately she graduated only because her homeworld was massacred by the connies a day before they're finals."
The young woman's smile curves into a frown. Realizing what he means. Looking at Emily again, she see's only a normal smart girl working in the docks. Not a hint of sadness on her face.
If what the old man says is true, it feels surreal how she can still smile.
"She's lucky though. She got an apartment and a decent enough job up here in the cluster." The old man closes the panel. "Those on Rustleton have to make due with cramped tents and space inside old crumbling dome cities. Not to mention the local's attitude to em."
The senior then closes the panel and grabs his tools, gesturing the assistant to join him.
Emily's phone chimes. Taking it out of her pocket she opens her phone to see notifications from the local news station reporting Marine Corps forces in Cerenia. And the current battle taking place.
Another notification. An Email, is also present in her screen about her being approved for enlistment in the Marine Corps and requires her to go to the nearest recruiment station. Emily smiles, not noticing Thorn and the drone peeking at her phone and asks.
"Why are you enlisting for the Marines again?"
•••
The confederate trooper howls as a federation soldier thrusts his bayonet into his belly through the gaps of his body armour. Pulling the trigger, the condederate trooper's armor melts and his insides boiled away from the constant fire of the federation soldier's laser rifle.
"We cant hold for long!" He shouts, pulling his bayonet off his kill.
Another federation soldier smacks a confederate trooper with a shovel to the face, and shooting another with a pistol, blowing a chunk off of the trooper's head and shooting the trooper he smacked with his shovel earlier.
A heavy weapons team with an autocannon firing at the intruders behind him.
The confederate troopers have reached the trenches just as the tanks were disabled or destroyed by the heavy weapons teams just on top of their trenches which the confederates used as cover to get closer.
"Sergeant!" The radio man shouts to his superior."In two minutes avenger will arrive. They got napalm on the ready!"
The sergeant, having just killed a trooper with a shotgun, walks calmly towards the radio man. Blood and gore dripping from his helmet.
"What did you say!?!" The sergeamt asks.
"Sarge, the avenger is about to cook the area!"
Just as he finishes, five confederate troop carriers bursts through the metal carcasses, shooting at the defenders with their heavy 30mm autocannons. Ripping and tearing through their armor and flesh. Providing support fire for their squad of heavy troopers and regular infantry dismounting the troop carriers.
The heavy weapons teams fires at them only for the heavy troopers to vaporize them with their laser cannons with deadly precision.
"Ahh shit they took out our heavy weapons teams!" The sergeant says to himself and turna on his helmet mounted radio. "Men! fall back to the second line!"
The soldiers fighting barely hears his order but without hesitation follows, covering each other as they left the trench one by one.
In the sky kilometers away from Alpha Z-9's position, three avenger gunships of Warhammer squadron, fly through the thick clouds towards their location. Bombs and rockets ready to be unloaded down to the enemy.
The shadow of their anhedral forward swept wings giving the silhouete of an eagle catching the attention of federation artillery men as they pass by. Their engines roaring and echoing.
In the second line, an MG team with a prepares their machine gun as they observe above in a destroyed temple. Using the thick rubble as cover from the shelling
The gunner pulls the gun's bolt, the assistant gunner ready to guide the gunner.
The radio suddenly comes to life, the sergeant shouting, hurting the ears of the corporal with the MG team and other soldiers.
"The line has fallen were coming out the choke point, get ready!"
The corporal nods and acknoledges the sergeant, looking at the only pathway just below and in front of them. An intentionally made choke point just in case the confederate forces have breached the first line. Which they have already done.
"The line has been broken theyre coming through! Get ready to let your guns sing!" The corporal says to the gunner and the soldiers with them. Cucking their weapons and positioning themselves on the flanks of the choke point.
The shelling stops. The feeling of safety returns and starts smiling, but only temporarily. The gunfire and screams gets louder and louder as they wait for the retreating soldiers.
Getting closer and closer.
The men grip on their rifles like sliping from a rope. Fingers on the trigger twitching.
Out of a corner, a squad runs with wounded in stretchers. Fear all over their faces. One of the soldiers in the left flank asks where their sergeant is only to be ignored. The sergeant he asked for comes to him instead.
"Sergeant how far back are they?" He asks. The confederate heavy troopers appearing a hundred meters behind them.
"Very close!" The sergeant grabs the soldier and takes cover as the heavy troopers open fire. The beam from the laser cannon grazes the sergeants backplate and hits a soldier standing in the middle. His arm and head vaporizing.
The corporal gets hit in the helmet from the laser fire. Thanfully he survives, his helmet having deflected the laser.
And also very pissed off, yelling at the MG team to open fire at the heavy troopers. The soldiers in the flanks openning fire with the MG team.
Bullets and laser shots bounce off the heavy trooper's armor but eventually piercing through the gaps killing the heavy trooper. The rest takes cover and shoot with their laser cannons. The lighter armed troopers moving to other pathways to attack the federation soldiers from another angle. Others climbing above the trench and shooting their assault rifles at the MG team.
One of the trooper's gets shot in his helmet and chest only to shrug it off. Another trooper dying from a round hitting the goggles of the trooper's gasmask and denting the helmet from the inside out. The trooper's body splashing on a puddle of water.
As they fight, a confederate AFV moves above the trench. Opening fire at the temple. A federation soldier on another part of the temple, notices the tank and opens a crate with a rocket launcher. The MG team busy with the infantry.
Fliping the sights of the rocket launcher, the soldier aims the rocket slightly up to account for gravity. And cheking the rear before firing. The back blast kicks up the dust and vibrating the soldiers body.
The rocket hits the turret top and explodes. The AFV stopping dead.The soldier reloads the rocket launcher, seeing another armoured vehicle, this time a tank. But the tank fires first before she can.
The shell lands beside the MG team. Shrapnel and rubble hits the corporal's eye's causing him to scream. Blood trickling down his left cheek.The MG team continues to fire but now on the tank damaging its optics. A scream sounding together with the machine gun fire.
The assistant gunner checking the man behind him and calling for the soldier.
The soldier from the other room runs to check on the corporal. Getting the dust off of him and seeing a piece of metal sticking out his face.
"Carmine!" Dawes shouts. "Is that you!?!"
"Yeah its me." Carmine tries to pull Corporal Dawes out of the room. Only to see the tank aiming at them again as the cloud of dust clears. More tanks and infantry behind it. The ground rumbling. The assistant gunner curses and they close their eyes.
But the tank doesnt fire. The confederate troopers stop firing looking up at the sky. The grey clouds glowing bright white-ish orange.
The federation forces look up at the sky to see the sky glowing. Some with confusion. Others. With shock and awe.
Out of the clouds. Drop pods appear. Thrusters adjusting and slowing down as they fall. Piece by piece each pod jettison shell after shell. Five kilometers above the ground the pods explode into four pieces revealing fully armored men and women with masks like a knight's visor. Numbers and squad insignias painted on the shoulder armor. Some holding various melee weapons, most of them being poleaxes and halberds.
They were Marines.
The sight of the falling armored marines terrifies both factions. The confederates open fire at the new foes falling from the sky.
Bullets and laser fire ricochet off their armor. Missiles missing them from all the debris acting as chaff and jammers in the pods falling with them.
The marines orient themselves using the rocket jets on their armor to have their legs facing the ground and fully slow down and in doing so, aim their arm mounted guns down the confederates and launching micro missiles from two missile pods mounted on their backs.
The bullets rain down and explode upon contact of the heavy troopers and infantry. Turning them in chunks. The micro missiles penetrating tank armor through a plasma explosion, melting the armor and igniting the ammunition.
Casualties in the confederate forces mount in an alarming rate. Causing a retreat.
One confederate trooper enters the temple gunning down three soldiers and shrugging off shots from Carmine's and the assistant gunner's laser pistols before running low on energy.
Carmine unsheaths her standard issue tomahawk and stands in between the corporal and the trooper. The trooper charges at her with the bayonet on the trooper's rifle.
She tries to parry, but a sudden gust of heat and dust blinds her, shielding her eyes with her arms followed by a very heavy thud.
Slowly lowering her arms she sees a marine eight feet tall holding the trooper's head. Slowly crushing the trooper's head. Creaking metal and crunching of flesh and bone echoing in the temple. The marines fist fully closes. Blood and brainmatter splashing on the floor. The trooper's body falls as the marine lets go of the crushed head.
It terrifies her and the MG team. The corporal shouting what the hell is going on.
The marine turns around making her flinch. The marine walks towards her, the visor retracting up the helmet revealing a young looking man with stubble. He observes them before speaking.
"Are you alright soldier?" He asks with a gentle voice. Surprising Carmine and the people behind her.
"....Uhhhhh." Carmine couldnt speak. Still processing what just happened.
"Yup you're alright." He looks out into the battlefield and sees his fellow marines in the middle of combat. Other marines still landing with their rocket jets.
"Tell your superiors to fall back immediately. Other forces are retreating due to the confederates number's. We will hold them until all forces have retreated"
Carmine doesnt respond. But nods having proccesed what he just said. The marine walks towards the edge of the room but Carmine stops him.
"Wait! whats your name?" She asks
The marine turns around. His visor lowering as he readies his rocket jets. And answers her.
"Alador." He says, his voice now digital. Before kneeling and launching himself with a burst from his armor's rocket jets into the battle.
The sergeant enters the temple with a medic, tending to the corporal and checking the bodies of their brothers in arms.
"Private Carmine. What did that marine do?" The sergeant asks. The radio man just behind him observing the marines in the distance rip apart tanks and mow down the confederate infantry.
She doesnt answer staying silent as she stares at the sergeant. Tomahawk still at hand.
Out on the distance, they hear the roaring jet engines of gunships. Their air support arriving late.