05.54 Hours, June 11th, 2187
Grid location: Proxima System, Planet Tethlis, Super Earth Space.
The aftermath of the orbital assault left the battlefield scarred and smoldering, a grim testament to the ferocity of the fight. In the dim light of dawn, Jack surveyed the scene from a makeshift lookout, his silhouette sharp against the reddening sky. He was silent, the weight of command heavier than the rifle slung across his back.
Behind him, Maria approached, her steps hesitant on the rubble-strewn ground. "The orbital platform is holding steady for now," she reported, her voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to break the solemn morning stillness. "But it won't last forever without maintenance."
Jack nodded slowly, his gaze still fixed on the horizon where the enemy had retreated. "It bought us time, nothing more. We need a longer-term solution."
As the soldiers regrouped, Elena and Carlos met in the remnants of what had once been a bustling market square. They leaned against a wall pockmarked with blast marks, exhaustion lining their faces.
"We pushed them back, Elena," Carlos said, pulling a dented flask from his pocket and offering it to her.
She took a swig, grimacing at the bitter taste. "At a cost. We can't afford another wave like that. Not without help."
Carlos nodded, his eyes scanning the makeshift encampments rising around them. "Maybe it's time to consider alliances."
Elena's eyes narrowed. "The other factions?"
"Yeah," Carlos replied. "They hate the Terminids as much as we do. Maybe it's time to put old grudges aside."
Back at the command center, Jack and Maria were already on the same wavelength. They pored over communications and intel, searching for any hint of willingness among the disparate human factions to unite against their common foe.
"We need to broker peace," Jack mused, tapping a communication line into activation. "Or at least a ceasefire among ourselves."
Maria lined up the contacts, her fingers hovering over the console. "It's a delicate dance, Jack. These factions haven't spoken without gunfire in years."
He met her gaze, firm and resolute. "Start with those most affected by the Terminid advances. They'll have the most to gain."
Meanwhile, on the field, Elena took charge of reaching out to the nearby faction leaders. She set off with a small team, each member selected for their diplomatic skill as much as their combat prowess.
In a bombed-out cathedral serving as a neutral meeting ground, Elena sat across from two rival leaders, their faces hard and suspicious. The air was tense, filled with the history of bloodshed between them.
"We've all lost too much to keep fighting each other," Elena began, her voice steady. "Our real enemy thrives on our division."
One leader, a grizzled veteran with scars tracing his face, leaned forward. "You expect us to just forget the past?"
"Not forget," Elena countered. "Learn from it. We can either die fighting each other or try to survive together against the Terminids."
Silence hung heavy for a moment before the other leader, a younger woman with fierce eyes, spoke. "What do you propose?"
Elena laid out the plan, emphasizing the success of the orbital platform and the potential of combined forces. "Together, we can end this. Divided, we'll just continue to be pawns in their game."
The leaders exchanged glances, the weight of her words settling between them. Finally, the veteran nodded slowly. "Let's talk terms."