Pelicans and Droneships moved into the atmosphere of the Slavers' planet now, a dozen craft, a quarter of which were medical craft. The Marines, Quarian and Human alike, eyed the camp ahead while their escorting fighter-bombers flew circles over the targets. Smoking craters remained where once whatever light triple-A had been used to keep them at bay, with the camp itself being a surprisingly sprawling complex.

Ethan gripped his own rifle closely as he watched gusts of wind blow blades of dust and sand around the tents and cages in which the people were being held. He radioed, "This is Ethan to Commander Reegar, target is in sight. You ready down there, ma'am? Cuz we're seeing plenty of smoldering wreckage," and he looked to the other Marines aboard his dropship.

"All green here, Ethan. We got our people ready to load up, though tell the docs the wounded might need a lil' extra care," Zeva sounded surprisingly cold that time. Ethan tensed, if his hydraulics-based musculature could do that, then braced as the Pelican shifted belly-down and powered its thrusters alongside the rest of the company's vehicles. The group dismounted the moment skids touched sand and the Marines and Ethan moved to escort the Medical Androids and Red Cross staff.

Entering the camp, the group saw Humans and Quarians piling high the corpses of the Raiders that had stolen their people, letting them fester and rot in the blazing light of the system's stellar body. Several of the corpses had bullet holes in the backs of their skulls, meaning executions. They were all clad in raider outfits, black with red stripes and Batarian skull marks.

Ethan walked up to the Major and snapped a salute her way, stating, "Reporting with Med Corps, as requested, ma'am."

"Good," She replied with a nod, then showed him to follow. Her rifle hanged off of her back as they walked forward, with Ethan noting that the cages people were being held in were very cramped. Reegar told him, "Good news is, we got here before the Scientists could apparently be stuck with slave chips. Bastards really thought we weren't gonna help our own..."

They passed by a squad of Marines and heard the gunfire. Spent casings piled into the sand below and black blood oozed from the bullet holes. Two more dead Batarians lay pinned against the wall of a prefab building. The League intended to send a couple messages to each Batarian slaver, probably 7,62mm. Ethan watched as another pair of heavy-duty combat androids picked the corpses up, threw them over their shoulders and walked them to the pile.

Zeva then sighed as she led the way into the Camp's command tower. Inside, five human and two Quarian corpses were being put in body bags. Zeva scratched her cheek and said, "Couple of the Eggheads we didn't manage to get out. Leader of the camp fled on board a transport truck of some kind, due North-East of here. I'm gonna need you on board a gunship to locate him. Link with the Wombat drones we're deploying and if you see him, take the shot."

"Understood, ma'am," Ethan replied. She motioned for the automaton to follow along again and the group descended back down into the slave camp's courtyard as the medical staff began to triage the survivors, among which were other aliens, not just Humans and Quarians. Major Reegar noticed a couple of Asari women and called out to the crews, telling them to take care of the girls quickly.

A few Batarians seemed to try and slip through by wearing the clothes and cloaks of other captured individuals. They were gunned down on the spot once they were discovered, with little remorse. By the time the Armed Forces were done, the place was a husk, stripped of all valuable intelligence and left with only the piles of burnt Batarian Corpses. The Civilians had been evacuated, too, taken on board support ships that would head back home and drop them off.

It didn't take long for the Drones under Ethan's control to find the enemy leader. His vehicle had broken down about a mile out from the outpost. A single rocket destroyed the vehicle and the Camp's Commander. When he returned aboard the Dreadnought Sarajevo, the Starship rejoined the formation of UNSC vessels in orbit as they left the planet for dead, temporarily disabling the Mass Relay.

The next jump over brought them into contact with a more populated alien world. They could see the gleam of a city's lights on the far side of the rocky world ahead. Shining against the planet's form, however, were the forms of dozens of Batarian vessels of varying sizes. Corvettes, Frigates and light cruisers, from the looks. The Major stood on the bridge, her lips curled into a smile as she watched the shipboard AI calculate split-second adjustments to MAC and plasma battery firing solutions.

The Batarians fired first, however. Wildly did their antiquated mass drivers' shots go, some scraping armor, others narrowly missing. Two shots struck the shielded bow of the Sarajevo and another still hit the shields of the Autumn-class cruiser God Willing across its side, causing its shields to flare. The pulse laser batteries of the ships replied first, flickering beams of multicolor light flickering in the darkness of space, cutting marks into the hulls of the light Batarian corvettes.

Fighters swept in next as the main fleet maintained distance. Released from their bellies, HAVOK Nuclear payloads lanced forward and struck the hulls of the larger Batarian Cruiser group that was trying to engage them. Two of the Cruisers felt six separate quakes as eight HAVOKs detonated in their proximity or right on top of them. The Second Fleet jumped in to support the UNSC's forces, advancing on the Batarian Naval contingent from below.

Plasma batteries from the bows of frigates lit the night a burning azure, cutting into the bellies of their reviled Batarian counterparts like high-intensity scalpels, before a pulse of energy shot down the main plasma 'beam' and punched clean through into the reactors. Coolant lines shattered across the hull of the ships, heat sinks glowing and detonating in moments. The fusion core destabilized and detonated on the first ship, washing its brethren in radiation.

Four Halberd-II Destroyers swept in next. While they retained the same length and Stiletto Dagger-like shape of their older siblings, these Destroyers had been almost fully automated. Manned by a crew of forty technicians and hundreds of droids, not to mention a central commanding AI and millions of co-operating Geth 'programs' upgraded to UNSC Military Standard, the Halberd-IIs were the epitome of the UNSC's new design philosophy:Reduction of casualties while maximizing reliability and combat capability.

For this reason, they also acted as a centerpiece of the Fleet's Electronic Warfare suite. Pulsating energy signatures, sensor ghosts, decoys and various other digital combat measures ensured total superiority over whatever came for them. And what came was a single Batarian Cruiser that had been dislodged from the formation to desperately try and halt the enemy's advance.

Zeva watched with muted awe as the main batteries of the Destroyers let loose. Years ago, her father had told her of how their weapons were nothing compared to the UNSC's standard armaments. Their frigate Mass Drivers did as much damage as the standard Turian Dreadnought's MDCs. It was terrifying at first, but now that she was here, on the deck of one of the greatest warships their people had ever devised, the latest of the Titan-Class Dreadnoughts to be built and the first built at one of Rannoch's new Shipyards, she smiled.

The deck guns of the vessel tracked Batarian Frigates trying to flank them on both sides. Sarajevo's gunnery AI let loose the guns and the kinetic cannons mounted in the superfiring three-barrel turrets shot blinding flakes of light at the enemy's ships. The first volley struck kinetic barriers and caused them to flare like crazy, to which the Batarians responded with their own rounds, striking shields.

The Dreadnought didn't need to fire its second volley, however. The Highlander suit appeared from beneath, firing its anti-ship launcher right into the belly of the enemy vessel on the left. The HEAT warheads punched clean through the soft belly of the small minnow and tore its reactor and crew compartments to shreds. The Suit utilized its agility and the mobility afforded by the thrusters mounted in its feet to surge toward the next ship while dodging what little GARDIAN-based anti-air defense it had, only to put a rocket clean throguh the ship's bridge.

The pilot, one of the Zorahs, gave a quick salute to the crew, then powered his engines to afterburner and surged back into the fight. Zeva said, "Raf always wanted to be a pilot when he was a kid," as she leaned onto the ship's holographic table. The captain in charge of the ship snorted. He was a human, elderly, with greying brown hair and piercing, black, almond-shaped eyes. Isoroku, she recalled.

"He seems to be having fun in his Prototype," He offered as he watched the unfolding battle from the Tactical View, "I think he's got a winner."

"We agree," She nodded, "Damn thing's pretty good for Ground Combat, too. Hell, it performed a pretty nice vehicle stomp... Nah, that doesn't sound right," she shook her head. Then, she grinned, "How's 'Highlander Burial' sound, sir?"

Approval was swift from the officer, but that didn't matter right now. A plasma turret on the Sarajevo tracked another cruiser and fired. The plasma struck like a blowtorch, cutting through the ship's hull and leaving a nasty gash that bled atmosphere in its side. The Cruiser careened right, firing its secondary armaments at the UNSC ship as shields flared.

It was finished off by the MAC of one of the other Dreadnoughts, the round tearing through the body like a hot knife through butter. When the last of the enemy's fleet was either a smoldering wreck overhead, or was being chased down by their fighters and the Geth-run support ships, the Major was on the deck with the 501st and Ethan again, prepared to deploy.

Passing through the hangars on her way to the drop pod area, she saw Albatross dropships being loaded with tanks and IFVs, as well as unmanned ground vehicles called 'Armatures'. The Geth's own personal weapons, the Armatures were modified to resemble tracked Infantry Fighting Vehicles. They were run by a series of Geth Programs tantamount to an AI, as per Durandal's own promise. The Geth were still a ways away from achieving sentience, but they were on their way. Meanwhile, their own promise was given. UNSC AIs lived long lives, but could live longer ones.

Both sides were still working on it, obviously...

After receiving a quick briefing about hostile defensive positions on the planet below, the UNSC's Finest deployed. Gunships, dropships, Drop-pods and Geth-run droneships flew down toward the planet like a swarm or locusts. Their warships fired main batteries down with the help of AI Guidance and satellite imagery. The invasion was gonna be nothing more than a mop-up.

As they breached atmosphere, the Major spoke to her subordinates, "All pods, synch on me and follow me in. Hostile anti-air defenses are currently being turned to glass by orbital, so that leaves us with very little to do down there beside mop-up. Tanks will be supporting us and that means we have to support them. Clear out buildings block by block and watch out for possible IEDs as well as possible use of the Slaves themselves as weapons. We got one hell of a ride ahead of us, boys and girls. Let's make it fun, oorah?"

"Oorah!" The Shock Troopers and Marines cheered over the com. The Major then looked out through her drop-pod's viewing ports, watching as MAC rounds and missiles rained from above at specific spots. Down below, through the thick layer of clouds, she could see the rocky surface and the settlements on it. These Batarian bastards really loved settling crappy worlds, didn't they?

Didn't matter, she thought. She felt the turbulence of orbital flight and saw that some of the bastards were firing up at them, rifle rounds zipping past their pods. It wasn't long, then, that the ground came closer much faster than previous. The pod slowed down, then slammed into the floor. Release charges kicked the door away and the woman jumped out of the pod, drawing her rifle from her pod and aiming for the first Batarian.

She hosed him down, feeling the ground crunching under her boots as she ran. Rallying her Command Squad, Ethan included, the woman pushed forward into the cover of rock outcroppings and the sight of an enemy military base up ahead, barely stirring awake under the assault. Damn, were these bastards sloppy, she thought as she scanned the base with her VISR.

Tall walls, defense turrets that weren't active yet and could be taken out, three gatehouses and a couple of towers, plus the central buildings. Batarian Sentries that were awake and on the walls managed to return fire as UNSC snipers set up, but their bursts were sporadic. She looked to Ethan and said, "Radio the Bullfrogs and tell them to rally up. They'll jump, take the North-Eastern gatehouse and let us in."

"Roger, ma'am," Ethan replied, then activated his com, "Bullfrogs, Bullfrogs, this is Talon One-Actual, requesting air support to take out a hostile base at Crossroads-03, main highway," all while Gunships up above descended on the station.

The Major radioed, "Chaperone Four-Four, your targets are enemy fuel and resupply points. Four-five, you take out the troops on the walls," as she watched the pair of Pelicans loaded for bear descend on the enemy positions. In the distance, Drone Fighters fired High-Speed Anti-Radiation Missiles toward enemy defensive sites and AAA that remained operational.

Forty millimeter coilguns mounted in the noses of the gunships let loose, volleys of explosive-laden ferrous slugs cratering the defense walls, detonating Element Zero and fuel supplies and eviscerating enemy troops that were now piling out of their barracks. Survivors organized themselves and fought back, but the ODST unit she'd requested was the first one in.

Powering their jetpacks, the Bullfrogs leaped over the cover of the walls and landed in the base, the gunships overhead retasking immediately to provide cover as a dozen or so elite Jumpers of the 501st kicked the door on. The Major checked her TACCOM, looking at the maps and updated unit positions and calling out, "BASEPLATE, BASEPLATE, this is TALON One-Actual, first enemy base has been seized. Defensive ring has been breached, you're clear to bring the tanks in. CASE OVERLORD."

"Roger that, Talon. CASE OVERLORD confirmed, armor en-route. Have a nice day," Replied the shipboard officers in charge with commanding the allies' drops. Scorpions and UGVs were dropped by pod or by Albatross, divisions of automata and infantry disgorging onto the battlefield. The Scorpions, now armed with high-caliber railguns, let loose a volley at an advancing counter-charge of Batarian light vehicles and prototype hovercar technicals.

"This is Geist Two-Seven-Actual. The 23rd Armored Division is on the ground, I repeat, the 23rd is dirtside at checkpoint Alpha. Moving to Checkpoint Beta to secure Highway Seventeen," A male Quarian spoke over the com as the entire division's engines roared simultaneously. Autonomous mechs surged forward first, quadrupedal machines, wheeled tanks and tracked combat vehicles firing autocannons, missiles and even plasma beam lances.

The Major breathed a sigh, smiling as she watched the spearhead of armor rolling past formerly-enemy bases, now occupied by the ODSTs. She patted Ethan on the shoudler and said, "Not a bad first drop..." before she showed him to follow down from the rock outcrop. As they descended down into the open gatehouse base, the Bullfrogs' Lieutenant snapped a crisp salute, stating, "Major. Base is secure. Five casualties..."

"Damn," She sighed deeply, "Well... To be expected. We're at war, not in exercises."

The base itself looked like a bunch of Prefab buildings set within the confines of a weirdly-shaped series of concrete walls. The Bullfrogs had managed to take it in under ten minutes, to the point even their defense turrets were still cold. She still watched sadly as the five dead, three humans and two Quarians, were brought out of the base's insides in bodybags.

"This keeps going like this, ma'am," Ethan started as his mind was making the calculations, "We might be at the enemy's homeworld in less than a month. Knock on wood and cross my mechanical heart just in case I jinxed us," and that got a short, awkward laugh from the entire squad. It wasn't a 'we'll laugh just because'. It was an 'it was funny, but we're worried' laugh.

As they joined the others on the IFVs, the companies started rolling forward toward the Batarian capital city on the planet:a surprising skyline of brutalism combined with some prefabricated buildings. The suburbs were the main target for now, a staging area. A staging area occupied by enemy artillery, surviving enemy troops of the defense garrison and probably whatever they were using for 'living' weapons. Suicide bombers.

Zeva and the others probably didn't wanna know.

Rannoch

Zorah home

Rael called out, "I'm home!" and tossed aside his backpack. School today had included the standard military training regimen, but the UNSC had taken their usual 'DIs' for combat duty. Soldiers during peace-time operated as teachers in such a militarized society as their own. He checked his Omni-Tool, which was surprisingly becoming way more ubiquitous among the ranks, but with added UNSC security measures. The holographic gauntlet glowed blue instead of orange, its concentric rings over the palm.

"Welcome home, Rael," His mother greeted. She smiled, but seemed tired. News from the front had been streaming in for the past couple of days, with the new Suit, the HACS, being tested. The Highlander, his father's apparent design, had become a sort of pseudo-War Hero weapon. And if Rael knew anything about his father, Raf, was flying it. Former military and all that.

Rael smiled awkwardly, then stepped inside and set his combat boots and training rifle aside, too, then walked over to the living room, to the holo-vision to watch the news stream. The UNSC's fleet had already 'liberated' the first outpost. Less than a day after they hit it. Now, they're hitting the next planet of the Batarians and probably splitting the Fleets to engage-

"... In other news, medical research has confirmed that, despite the difference in aminoacid relations, it is confirmed that human and Quarian interbreeding is possible..." The newscaster spoke, only for Rael to blush and hide his face from his smirking mom. How did life synch up for him to walk in exactly at the time that was broadcasting? He wanted to know how the fight was going, not this.

"Well, looks like you and your little human girlfriend are gonna be able to-" Mama Zorah started, grinning.

"MOM!" Rael barked, causing the woman to giggle. He had to thank God he didn't come over with Carla this time, lest the two of them be stunned by the sheer will of his mom to embarrass them both. He sighed deeply, then looked at the news broadcast switching back to updates about the war. Images taken by Prowlers and independent News teams on various warships showed images of the Navy's work.

Images from Marines in the hangars and some light planetside images. "... And we're with the UNSC's 23rd Armored and 501st ODSTs as they push into the Batarian City of Bahit! Artillery's still raining from Batarian defense positions within the suburbia as night's falling and the UNSC's troops maintain their advance. We'll keep bringing you updates from the Front Lines! This has been Thomas Asher with Rannoch General News! Good night, morning or midday to our people!" The reporter spoke as live images from the groundside deployment on the newest planet proceeded.

Distant were the sights and flashes of tank guns letting loose. It reminded the young man of the sights in history books from school. Desert Storm was a single unit, a single class for history, but the aesthetics were something he could recognize anywhere. Even the Marines and troops engaged in warfare on the rocky planet reminded him of it, the distant lights of flying jets, the thundering explosions and the burning fires.

She sighed deeply, then asked, "Did dad manage to contact you?"

"He did. He's fine," The woman replied as she set the table for them to have dinner. She watched a pair of UNSC Fighters taking off from a ship and diving down onto the planet through the atmosphere, cutting through it like hot knives through butter. Another series of images played of up-armored Warthogs, called Saddlebacks, carrying equipment, supplies and such.

Logistics and equipment deliveries, damage control, the crews in the engineering decks, Doctors and staff. It was showing the UNSC working together to try and win them the war that the Batarians had unwittingly started like a bunch of morons. The people back on the mythical 'Earth' would hopefully be proud of them. The boy calmly started eating his dextro spaghetti while watching the news.

His mom was worried. The boy was interested in the military industrial complex. Then again, it came with his family's place of work. She leaned her chin on her hand, watching him watch the news. She sighed and said to him, "I'm switching channels, kiddo. You don't even know what you're eating..." before thumbing the remote's switch. He nodded, a bit disappointed, then turned back to eat. She said to him, "Your dad's fine, kiddo."

"I know..." He replied, then sighed, "I just..."

She put a hand on his shoulder and said, "I know. I'm his wife, kiddo, I'm worried..." before taking his hand, "He's gonna be alright. Your father's a tough guy..." and she smiled, "Plus, he's piloting one fine mech if he made it, so, don't worry. They'll be alright out there. The Batarians are fairly easy," before patting him on the head. She told him, "So, relax."

"Okay," He nodded. He looked back at his food and started eating, all while the HoloVis was going off in the background. He looked over at the TV and watched some talk-show. His mind wandered, however, toward Carla. Her mother's giggles and stares notwithstanding... Carla was his childhood friend. If she accepted his request for Prom, maybe they could actually get together at some point.

Mm... Nah, no way she would accept him. He was too much of a dork. Sighing, he continued eating, wondering just who she'd go with to prom. He'd seen her in training today and she looked amazingly cool in her uniform. She even excelled at training, while he wasn't even close to her in terms of score. He was a nerd, honestly, so it made sense. He was there to research stuff, like his family before him, meaning he was probably gonna providing her weapons. Maybe. Would've been cool to see her using something he designed and build...

... He hoped that she'd accept the Prom thing, honestly...