Aboard UNSC Harvest Moon

The Harvest Moon, a Halberd-II, maintained her patrol pattern around occupied Batarian Worlds. Said patrol pattern had brought her and the crew into conflict many times over with hostile stragglers. Usually Frigates and fighters that had remained to protect old positions or emerged to attempt to harass the support fleets of Cradle-class rearm, repair and resupply ships, not to mention the cargo vessels.

The Moon was one of a dozen Destroyers tasked with escorting these ships or outright sweeping ahead of them to clear the guerrilla warships of the enemy navy. IF they could even call what remained of the Batarian forces a 'navy', that was. To that point, the warship herself prepared to scour the asteroid fields around herself and her sisters, the Greenlight and Silver Ghost, for hostiles. It was gonna be fun!

Now, normally, a warship would not think about things being 'fun'. They should not think at all, some would have said. The AI retained her scanning capabilities, examining the area around them. Operating near an asteroid field, the squadron of three moved forward, forming a wedge ahead as their sensors picked up the distant contact of friendly resupply convoys and their escorts.

The captain on board the ship stared at the tactical map displaying allied positions across this specific solar system, noting the concentration of forces was above Balahok itself, where UNSC forces had managed to seize the planet's orbit with impunity. He sighed, then brought his hands gently forward and together, before moving them apart diagonally and zooming onto the position of his small task force.

He spoke, "Send a report to the Flagship. CODE:EMERALD. Area of operations remains free of any hostile stragglers and surviving small task groups, but we will continue our patrol around the Kuiper Belt... End report with added inquiry:Updated request on planetary invasion, please?" then rubbed his eyes. They'd been on this patrol for over two days since the battle over Balahok, having spent a good chunk of said two days awake with timed shift changes. His wife was planetside on Balahok, fighting it out with what seemed to be increasingly-desperate Batarian Pirates.

The Captain sighed and said, "Display sensor details on the holo-map. Continuous updates. Link to the local BattleNet and also display the data from the rest of our picket. I want all data links between our vessels continuously active..." then he leaned onto the table. He watched the three blue dots floating around the local Kuiper belt, his eyes locking onto the changing trajectory updates, vectors and speeds of the various asteroids.

Intermixed with ice asteroids, there were platinum, gold and even other metal-filled rocks around the place. Some Titanium, too, if the scans were right, meaning that the moment they seized this chunk of territory, they could probably institute some proper mining. He was also worried, however. Some of these rocks could be decent Faraday Cages for something waiting to hit them.

His XO approached, handing him a tablet with data streaming on it. He requested, "Status on our weapons systems? Ammo count, missile stowage, nukes and MAC rounds. I want it in percentages..." while reading through the report on what seemed to be planetside action.

The XO, a young Quarian woman, nodded, saluted, then replied, "Per reports, we've expended approximately fourteen percent of our missiles in the first in-system engagement and over twenty percent of our MAC rounds. The SHIVA stowage is still full, however, as we haven't had any targets to use a full nuclear payload against. CIWS systems are at one hundred percent. No enemy ships got close enough for the railguns to be used."

She saw him furrow his brow, his shoulders sag, then a frown appear on his face. He set the tablet aside, put his hands together and his his mouth, closing his eyes. He breathed deeply and, after a moment of seemingly taking in the report, he nodded. Standing up straight and walking to his seat, he said, "Maintain patrol pattern..." in a lower voice.

The Executive Officer knew what the report said. She had had to read and vet it before bringing it over. It was still heartbreaking to her, as someone who'd basically worked with them before. She arranged her sash, then walked back to her station, which was right beside him, then sat down and brought up more data screens on her haptic interface, streaming information from the sensors to his console.

The AI was about to say something. She paused, however, then 'looked forward', out of the main armored windows of the warship. Squinting, she hummed and said, "Transient contacts off our bow. They're fading in and out, sir, and they're not being picked up by our IFFs. There's interference from the Asteroid Field due to the makeup of Asteroids at Points Twelve through Forty-One"

The man seemed to snap out of his grief at that very moment. He stood up and ordered, "All ships, go to yellow alert. Ensure shields are charged and prepare to engage. Ping the unidentified contacts and give them a warning to strike their colors and surrender. If they don't respond..." and he let that hang in the air. The AI smirked and nodded, then began the procedures. The ship's 'horn' blared once, calling crew to Action Stations.

Crew immediately turned from whatever conversations they were having to manning their stations. Reports started flooding in both vocally and via the Captain's station as the man sat down. All stations reported combat readiness and their allied vessels sent text-based messages to confirm they were ready for battle, too. He saw the two ships move to Harvest Moon's flanks on the display while the transient contacts kept flashing on and off.

The AI reported, "No response. First vessel is emerging from asteroid cover, weapons charged."

"Red Alert. Battle stations. Send a report to the Fleet, CODE:RED," The man ordered over the PA.

"Hostile fighters, on approach!" The radar operator reported. Maybe three enemy squadrons flashed on the screen, black-clad starfighters that swept in, firing their forward-mounted twin kinetic cannons. The shots flashed and struck the UNSC ships' shields and two fighters buzzed the bridge of the Destroyer. The Captain stared, impassive, at the hostile ships.

The Transient Conctacts began to resolve. Hostile corvettes and makeshift warships modified in nearby shipyards floated out of cover and fired their kinetic batteries at the UNSC vessels, projectiles striking shields or narrowly missing. The vessels shook, with crew reporting, "Shields are holding," while another volley struck them. The three Destroyers maintained formation, though, their CIWS opening up and filling the void with what was tantamount to proximity fuse HE rounds that acted as FLAK.

Gunnery called, "Acquiring targeting solutions is proving tough, sir. Bastards are using the Asteroids as cover..."

"Fire a volley of Archer missiles," The man ordered, watching the enemy's fighters sweep in for another attack. His ship's laser point defense started tracking whatever was making it through the curtain of flak. Flashes of light filled the void. A beam lanced from the turret and cut one of the enemy fighters in half, causing it to detonate as its engines and fuel supply caught ablaze.

The bow missile silos of the Halberds opened. VLS cells loaded with Archer missiles enough to saturate space ahead of them. Their MACs remained quiet for this run, targeting solutions proving obnoxiously hard to get even with a shipboard AI providing Datalinked targeting. The missiles shot out of each silo on white trails of smoke. One puff was enough to get them out of the silos.

Their directional thrusters, mounted just below the nose cones, kicked in, causing the missiles to immediately shift to a horizontal position, locked right onto the wide target area ahead. Their tracking suites engaged as their main motors powered again and they shot forward, all within the span of maybe a half-second. The enemy corvettes ahead continued dipping in and out of the cover of their asteroid field while fighters dived down on the UNSC ships.

The enemy had maybe a dozen Corvettes still left ahead, plus whatever they scraped together. When the missiles struck, even with some degree of inaccuracy, their detonations shattered several asteroids and punched massive holes through the bodies of a quarter of the enemy's ships. Following up, plasma and pulse-laser turrets caught them in their tracking arcs as the UNSC ships powered their engines to quarter speed, pushing into the hostile ambush.

Strobing light filled the window as their point-defense pulse lasers cut lattice-pattern marks across the hull of one of the Corvettes while searing the pilot of one of the fighters and bursting the cockpit window, sending the fighter careening into the shields of the Silver Ghost to the right. The Corvettes, however, seemed to redouble their effort at that very moment.

A full volley of kinetic rounds suddenly impacted the bow shields of the Harvest Moon, crew reporting, "Shields just took a nasty hit! Enemy's focusing fire on us, sir!" only for a second volley to strike the shields again. Despite them losing Corvettes left and right, whatever remained of this Batarian strike force seemed to have wisened up to a good tactic. The Captain grit his teeth and said, "Utilize maneuvering thrusters and lower our mass by half! Let's start dancing with the bastards! All ships, break formation and fire at will!"

The AI's grin grew, her elven ears twitching as she snapped a salute, "SIR!" before taking control. She took the helm and started feeding power from the fusion reactor into the Element Zero core, suddenly halving the vessel's mass and allowing her maneuvering thrusters to propel the ship into what must've looked like a dogfight stance with the enemy. As her shielding was being hammered by Corvettes that were trying to surround them, she moved her bow, tracking one of the leading ones.

She grinned, extended her left hand out and pointed at the enemy with a straight index and lifted thumb. Pressing the thumb against her index and moving the hand back in the mimicked motion of firing a gun, she yelled, "Bang!" before the ship's MAC shuddered the warship. The ferrous slug left the rails and shot clean through the kinetic barriers and armor of the Corvette.

Said Corvette exploded moments later, while the other two Destroyers that'd broken formation utilized similar tactics. They danced with the much smaller, nimbler corvettes now, their multitude of weapons tracking the enemy. The last of their fighters soon exploded, shot out of the sky by the Orbital Action Group's Point-Defense. The plasma turrets, meanwhile, fired brilliant ribbons of energy that sliced the bodies of the enemy's remaining warship's in half.

It wasn't long after that the Batarian Flotilla that had engaged them became another field of debris, though it now mixed with the system's asteroid belt. As the ships returned to formation, the Captain breathed a deep sigh, leaning back into his seat, ordering, "Stand us down to Yellow Alert and keep your scanners open for escape pods," and murmuring, "That was cutting it close. Any smarter an enemy and we might've actually taken severe damage there..."

"Any smarter an enemy and they might've figured out mobbing single ships earlier and actually given us proper naval casualties," The AI quipped, grinning. She crossed her arms to her chest and asked with a joking undertone, "Good thing the Four-Eyes ain't particularly bright, eh, sir?" to try and lighten her Captain's already dour mood. She, too, had read the report. She was the ship's AI, after all. And she did wanna help him, like the Geth on board did.

"True," He nodded, pinching the bow of his nose. He mumbled, "Bright enough to snipe Eileen, sadly..."

After that line, the AI and XO both decided to let the captain grieve in peace, taking over bridge duties while he went off to get some damn sleep.

Rannoch

Rael and Carla both watched news reports from the War. The seizing of Balahok was another victory for the League's forces, obviously. The last defense ring between their forces and the enemy was breached. Carla smiled, curled up under a blanket, then said, "Looks like the war's about to end. And with way fewer dead than projected. Dad's friends in the MoD told him that casualties are at a tenth of what was expected."

"That's still a bunch of people who won't see their folks anymore," Rael murmured, a little sad, "Heard Klaus's dad was killed just yesterday on Black Harbor, trying to deal with a bunch of smugglers that were hauling bombs into refugees' luggage," and he sighed deeply, leaning back. He mumbled, "Why did the Batarians have to be morons, honestly?"

Carla could immediately tell what this was about. She looked at him and asked, "Any news from your dad?"

He nodded, "He did send a couple telegrams, yes. Finally," then he smiled a little, "You know the whole Totally-Not-Mobile-Suit we keep seeing on the news? The one with a double-ace at this point and like two destroyed enemy warships?" which caused the girl to take a moment to remember. And yes, she did in fact recall that magnificent piece of joint human-Quarian-Geth technology.

"The Black Star? That Ace in the Mech Suit?" She nodded, "Yeah, it was some sort of secret super-project the military decided to start developing."

He nodded, "Dad just admitted via letter that he worked on it. And is currently piloting it," before grinning. Carla's eyes seemed to light up almost immediately. He snorted at that, then breathed a sigh, stating, "I know, I know, it's cool, dad's a Mobile Suit ace and all, but please don't tell anyone else. Word is they're gonna start mass production of the Highlanders soon enough, too, meaning Dad might come back home to supervise it..."

"That's good, ain't it?" She smiled, "Y'know, less risk for him and the designers."

"Yeah. I just hope he's... Y'know, alright mentally when he gets home," He replied, a bit wary. Carla frowned at that, then nodded in understanding. Yeah, that made sense. War damaged many of the men and women who served in it. They had heard of it all while in school, how some soldiers were mistreated back on what was now a planet of legend among all denizens of the League:Earth. Their human allies' homeworld, so long ago presumed lost to the Covenant.

She took his hand into hers, surprising him a little, then said, "I'm sure he'll be alright..." before smiling again, "I mean, he has you and your mom to get back to," only to pause as she saw him suddenly flustered, his face red and eyes wide. He avoided eye contact for a moment, while she paused for a sec to understand what she did wrong. Looking down, she saw that she'd almost instinctually taken his hand, which caused her to freeze in place, red-faced and surprised now, her heart racing.

"W-Wanna watch a movie instead...?" He asked, trying to show as little as possible of how awkward he was feeling, though it wasn't exactly successful. She nodded in kind, still shy, too, though a bit more open about it. He shifted his left hand and looked at it, watching as the haptic interface of his Omni-Tool formed around his arm like an armored gauntlet, then pulled up the remote for the TV and switched over to a new movie. The re-release of 'Die Hard'.

Carla seemed to almost immediately perk up at the sight, smiling and stating, "Yo, holy crap, you have 'Die Hard'!?" which garnered a smile out of the young Zorah boy. He gave a thumbs-up, to which the girl giggled and leaned back to watch it. The door to the house clicked, then hissed open and Carla called out, "Heya, miss Zorah!" to which Rael's mom audibly giggled.

As the movie started rolling, displaying actors that had died centuries ago playing characters that also probably died centuries ago doing the classic cool stuff, Rael quipped absentmindedly, "The true Christmas Movie experience," which garnered a laugh out of Carla. He looked upon the young woman with a smile. Yeah, miss C. Grayson would forever be someone he held close to his heart.

So, why not risk it. As they were watching John McClane go about his business on the screen, he took a deep breath and looked to Carla, "Hey, Cee... Quick question," to which the girl looked at him. He looked a little paler as his mind started to worry. What if she'd say no? What if she'd laugh in his face? What if their friendship would end then and there?

No, Rael'Zorah vas Rannoch, that was a stupid worry. He swallowed, tugged at his collar and asked her, "Look, the Prom's coming up at school and... Well, I know for a fact neither of us has a partner... Do you, maybe... Wanna go together?" only to see the girl visibly pause... And her face turn red from her ears to her nose. She looked around, then pointed at herself which caused him to blush harder, too. He nodded.

What came next was either a series of screams that were muffled by her closed mouth or the happiest series of non-word noises Carla had ever let out. He'd go for the latter, considering the way she pounced on him and wrapped him in a hug. His mother audibly cheered, "YES!" from the kitchen while Rael, though embarrassed, smiled and hugged his long-time childhood friend back, feeling all tension in regards to this little question leave his body.

Thank the Maker...

Balahok Ground ops

UNSC MBTs rolled forward again in wedge formation while Sparrowhawk gunships flew in low from above, their magnetic gatling cannons spun and firing at the enemy formations on the planet's largest slave camp. Dust and debris marked impact zones, craters drilled into the concrete of the massive wall by artillery and dropships slowly collapsing. Enemy anti-air defenses were no-factor, courtesy of HARMs that had taken out the towers on which those had been positioned minutes before the massed air offensive had struck.

The only thing the artillery of the Army wasn't doing was shooting over the walls. Too high a risk of killing any of the civilians stuck within the camps ahead. Balahok had, against all odds, been an enemy's raw materiel and mining planet, industrial towers choking the air with acrid black smoke being proof as Acid rain poured down like a wall on the advancing troops, all of whom were clad in HAZMAT gear.

Aboard one of the Pelican transports now flying over the wall, radio chatter filled the ears of the troops. "Contacts on the top of the wall have been neutralized. PHANTOM Teams, open the gate. SLEDGEHAMMER Actual, direct armored fist to halt and deploy all mounted troops and Combat Drones for city-wide sweeps. MOLERATs, your AO will remain the Mines. Retrieve any slaves within and eliminate Batarian Resistance."

The troops aboard could barely see from the Blood Tray the hell that was waiting for them down below. A combination of tent city and makeshift, ragged slums mixed with the industrial park that they'd been built around like a bad photo taken at Hanshin's south pole expeditions. There were a few open areas currently being cleared out by a First Wave of ODSTs, callsign 'EAGLE', and their supporting UGVs.

The Unmanned Ground Vehicles of the Black League had become sort of similar to the Armatures and Colossi of the Geth Military. Quadrupedal and hexapedal machines, operated by Geth Programs and armed with the latest in terms of UNSC-developed weaponry, with an undeniably UNSC design. Even their Pelican, callsign SLEDGEHAMMER Six-Six, carried a Colossus-class UGV. It was a six-legged beast of a tank, standing at over three meters tall and armed with twin forward-mounted gatling guns on an articulated head, plus a heavy railgun on its back. It had shields and redundant barriers on top of its armor and was sharply angled, fat and dangerous.

As the Pelicans swept in and touched down to support PHANTOM, the troops dismounted from within. Batarian resistance immediately greeted them as their UGVs were unloaded. The six-legged machines unfolded their propulsion systems and stood up, marching out from underneath the magnetic grabbers on the back of the Pelicans and into the blinding acid rain.

The leading unit of these machines activated its FLIR, the high-fidelity infra-red heat detection cameras located within the sensor suite at the front of the armored head. Enhanced Threat Detection Systems engaged as well, scanning targets for weapons as they stomped their way forward to support the Marines. Civilian slaves scrambled out of the way of the machines. From amidst the crowds, however, enemy shooters fired their rifles.

The Machines did not fire into the crowds for fear of civilian casualties, simply marking the shooters on the VISR system for their human and Quarian allies. Said allies pushed forward and took cover behind the mechs, whose shields flared and flashed with each impact from the enemy's weapons. The pouring acid rain also caused the shields to glow a dirty gold, same as the barriers worn by most of the troops.

Behind the advance force making a Front Line, the gates were opened and the ground teams poured in, advancing with weapons at the ready into the grid-like squares of the place. One of the UGVs aimed and charged the railgun on its back, then fired. A flash of light and kinetic energy split the rain in two for a moment, followed by a direct impact against the bow of an enemy dropship trying to flee. Fire erupted from the side of the aircraft as it lost altitude, crashing near-by the Marines, into one of the huts.

"This is fucking nuts!" A human Marine called out as they pushed forward with the help of the UGVs and sniped at enemy troops in the crowds. He saw his Battle Rifle was starting to turn white from its usual black due to the rain, then said, "This is some corrosive shit they must be mining in here! Someone warn the docs they'll have a lot of work ahead of'em!"

The man stumbled over the corpse of a Batarian. It wasn't one they shot, though. He looked at it and saw that the Four-Eyes male bore the marks of slavery on his skin. Lash scars from whips and the chip scars that they'd found on so many others. His body was half-melted, left to rot out in the darkness of the boiling planet. His HUD flared with a warning about the toxic nature of the planet, then he yelped as a round skimmed just past him and struck another UGV in the formation, stating, "Good fucking Christ...!"

"Thank god we got the Hazmat gear with us, or else..." A Quarian quipped as he fired his DMR at the rooftops. He gasped, however, when a Civilian ran at them through the rain and his finger slipped, the round nailing him dead in the chest. He gasped, staggering back, before being caught by one of his friends, his eyes wide behind his own personal hazard suit. He called to the corpse, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Tove, calm down, brother!" Another Marine called out as he pushed him back into cover, "He came running at us! It's not your fault!"

"I should've PID'd him! The sensors-"

"Doesn't matter right now! We'll figure it out when we're not knee-deep in caustic shit with thousands of slavers among the crowds!" The squad Lieutenant replied as he motioned for the unit to move forward. Beside them, Geth Platforms advanced with their personal rifles, firing at the enemy. He heard a Marine in an Exo-Suit push up as well, then ordered, "Team, spread out among the buildings! Secure them and shoot to kill only once you've confirmed they have weapons!"

"Sir!" The group chorused, though Tove, the Quarian, was quieter as he still stared back at the corpse they'd left in the dirt. His battle buddy shook him awake and the two took the lead of one of the breaching teams, kicking doors in on the sides to sideswipe the Batarian defenders as they tried to flee. Slaves and their families were surprised, afraid, then jubilant when they saw that it was their liberators. Some pointed them to the fleeing Batarian fireteams, others were too afraid. Many were wounded, choking, riddled with diseases from the world's hazardous atmosphere...

It was a nasty sight for any sane soldier. Army and Marines pushed and persevered regardless. They were putting pressure on the Batarian forces in the Slave City, pushing them back to the Industrial Sectors and the Mines, where the Molerat squads and their own tiny combat drones would deal with them. Air Support from above was flying in choppy winds, though, needing to retreat to the ships above the cloud layer for maintenance. There was no wonder some Marines and Army Troops were having trouble PIDing.

It was hell down there.