It was about a week later that Carla and Rael were to meet for prom. The young man donned his family uniform again and pat down his sash. His shirt, pants and all had been cleaned, pressed and were pretty much spotless. He tugged at the collar, which suddenly felt incredibly tight for him, before breathing a sigh as an Omni-Tool's camera function shutter 'clicked' audibly. He looked over at his mom, who was beaming, then his shoulders sagged as he smiled. He didn't have the spirit in him to tell her off about taking pictures.

His heart was racing too hard for that. He swallowed, felt his mouth was dry, then went to drink some water, making extra sure not to spill a droplet on his clothes. He breathed a sigh, scratched the top of his head, then looked over at his mom again. The woman approached him and put a pair of hands on his shoulder, stating, "Relax, Rael'Zorah. You're soon to be a man. School is almost over and you'll be going into the Service soon, too..." before sighing, "Are you sure you wanna join up now? Your dad and I can work something out, get you with Engineering..."

"I figure it's best if I see the Galaxy out there for myself, mom," He nodded, "Service may not be needed for citizenship, but I figure it's a good idea to help. Dad wasn't a soldier either and here he is, the first Ace the UNSC has had in years and he did it all in his and the Xen family's proto-suit..." before smiling awkwardly, "Plus, if I'm lucky, they'll just post me with the military on that new colony."

His mom breathed a little, her voice shaky, then she hugged him as gently as possible. He hugged her back, to which she said, "I love you, son. You are... Probably the best creation I and your dad ever made reality," then she caressed the boy's cheek as he smiled. "Now," she paused as she heard the wheels of a car in front of their home and smirked, "Go get the girl," turning him on the spot and pushing him toward the door.

He suddenly felt his heart beat a thousand times faster as he approached the door too quickly, all thanks to the push given by his mother. He staggered as his hand clasped the button. A knock on the wood-reproduction door and the door hissed as it slid to the side, revealing a beautiful young woman. The blonde stood before him in a brightly-colored, long, strapless dress that reached past the knees and a pair of high heels matching in color. In her hand, she held a purse and she'd put on just the right amount of makeup.

For a moment, Rael could swear his heart stopped beating. It was like he was staring at an angel. She, too, seemed to pause at the sight of him in his full, standard-issue uniform and sash. The two locked eyes, blushed, then snapped out of their momentary fugue when the moms started taking pictures. Mama Zorah waved to Mama Grayson, yelling out, "THEY'RE SO CUTE!"

"I KNOW!" The Marine veteran woman replied with a wave, grinning. She honked, then said, "C'mon, kiddos! We'll be late!"

The two breathed sighs of annoyance at their mothers, before looking at one-another. Rael then smiled, gently extending his elbow, which he'd bent, to her. She gave a gentle bow, then took his arm and the two walked toward the car, one of the new civvie models made by the Blake Motor Works company. It was a right limo, haptic interface and all. IT still had a physical wheel, though.

The two mothers waved to one-another as the kids got in the car, then the woman started driving. It was a hydrogen-based engine, but it was silent as could be, especially for the middle of the night in the cul-de-sac. The woman positioned her rearview mirror a bit to see the kids, then smirked and said, "Looking handsome, Rael," when she noticed both her daughter and the boy were shy as all hell.

"Thanks," He replied awkwardly, scratching his cheek and avoiding eye contact.

Carla took a moment to compose herself, then said, "I agree, honestly... Uniform suits ya, regardless of what anyone else might say," and offered a smile. The boy's face momentarily glowed red, but he managed to compose himself, too, looking at his partner for the prom. He stopped, rifled through his pockets, then pulled out a small container. He popped it open.

Carla's eyes went wide, while Rael stuttered a bit, stating, "W-While you're already beautiful enough..." and smiling at her. "Mom and I figured no girl's dress is complete without a brooch or flower. We went down the middle," He said, watching her retrieve the rose-shaped, glimmering gem-filled brooch from the box. The light reflecting from the lightpoles on the road into the brooch's gems glimmered in her enthralled eyes, while her mom simply smiled and gave a thumbs up to the boy.

Possibly having missed his compliment toward her, (or not, considering he saw the blush now), the girl stared into his eyes with a smile as she put the brooch on herself. Or, well, nearly. She yelped a little as she stabbed herself with the needle. He jumped to try and help her and the two wound up in a very awkward momentary hug. Soon, they separated, ever more turning into blushing messes.

The mom chuckled, then sighed and said, "Richard's gonna get a laugh outta this when he's back from the meeting," talking specifically about Papa Grayson. While the family themselves were fairly well known and most of the people who married into the UNSC's original scientific leaders retained the name, the Family had gone into multiple fields at the time. She giggled, then added, "Then again, so are your sisters."

"MOM!" Carla whined.

Three other sisters. Most were older than Carla. Two of them were currently Marines fighting out there. Rael knew as much because they kept up through correspondence, but they were thankfully more logistics units. Operating the cargo haulers and the likes. He sighed deeply, hiding his own blush in the darkness of the car until they rolled up to their school. Lightshows danced in the sky of the modular building as more and more crowds of students, partners or singles, gathered in the courtyard, marching toward the larger meeting hall. Mama Grayson said, "Have fun, kiddos~! But not too much just yet," though there seemed to be a sad undertone to what she said.

Carla nodded at that, seemingly a little down herself. She and Rael got out of the car, walking to join their classmates on the walk over. While the other boys and girls, both Quarian and Human, gossiped with each-other or just talked, the Zorah and Grayson remained relatively quiet, still awkward around each-other tonight. Carla held onto his arm, however.

They entered the hall, to the sound of light party music. It was neither random EDM/Electronic new-gen crap, nor any of the stuff that was older than their entire family trees combined. It was a smooth, kind tone that welcomed them into the wide, yet filled-to-the-brim hall as party streamers, balloons and ornate tables filled with food and drinks came into view amidst the crowds.

The two entered and found themselves a quiet table to leave their stuff, before Carla murmured, "At least the music's nice..."

"Miss class prez is surprised that she had Veto rights?" Joked the boy as they sat down. He looked over to see some people dancing, smiles on their faces and drinks in hand.

She stuck her tongue out at him, to which he stuck his tongue back out at her. Good, he thought, ice broken. Now what? He watched several of their classmates walking past, giving waves and the likes. A couple of the girls looked miffed. Quarian ones, surprisingly. Girls who hadn't so much as given him the time of day back during the start of school. Which was...

"... Eleven years ago, huh...?" Carla started. She caused him to look up at her, eyes wide. A melancholic smile painted her face. She told him, "Was just remembering when we all started being little shits in this school," and the filter was off without even drinking. A surprise. She told him, "Eleven long years since we've all known each-other. And for you and me, it was even longer, since both our families moved onto Rannoch due to work."

"Yeah..." He nodded, smiling, "We've sure been through a lot of stuff, huh?"

"Well, let's see-" She paused as a familiar song started playing. Jazzy tunes, slow, mixed with drum, keys and a female voice. She beamed and said, "Holy crap, they actually stuck with Dream Come True? Heh..." then she blushed. The boy took the hint rather quickly, standing to his feet and walking over to her. He offered his hand and smiled awkwardly...

"May I have this dance?" He asked. Despite what he expected(namely another moment of hesitation from her), she jumped to her feet, the two of them strolling toward the dance floor, much to the surprise and murmurs of the other people present. As they started dancing, ignoring the others as they moved hand-in hand(and only nearly tripping each-other a couple times 'till they got into the beat), Rael said, "Where were we?"

"Recalling our tomfoolery in class," She chuckled, "Like that one time we stole the whiteboard markers from miss Flannigan's maths class. Poor woman wound up writing with her Omni-Tool!" and that got a short laugh out of Rael.

Rael added, "Or the time some dumbass stole the urinal from our bathroom," which garnered a giggle out of his dance partner. He shrugged, then said, "Man really wanted something to decorate his bathroom, I guess. There was also that one time someone brought a dummy grenade into rifle training club..." before staring right into her eyes. She had some jokes.

Clara scoffed, "Hey, if they didn't wanna get scared..."

"It was a grenade, Cee..." He snorted, shaking his head, "Admittedly, I did some dumb things too, like in engineering class when I 'mistakenly' rigged the smoke alarm to ring at an exact moment so we can all get out of mister Zal'Verus's room. Dude hadn't showered for a week and even thought that's what the smoke detector was picking up. You saved my ass when they found out, too... Took the blame. Thanks," before the two of them giggled again.

Clara quipped, "Well, you know how it is, being friends with you since childhood and all..." and smiled... Her expression, softened soon after, her face bearing the weight of an incoming set of bad news. An apology. She looked him in the eye and knew he realized. So, she decided she'd say it, "... I'm moving to the new Colony near the Veil. Some system with the Turian name 'Arcaeus'. League leadership named it New Warsaw, apparently..."

"What...?" Rael asked, his heart dropping.

She sighed deeply, then said, "I would've waited to tell you until after the Prom... But dad got a job there. He's helping set up a planetary mine. A rich ore vein of Titanium was found recently nearby the Capital, right in the higher mountainous regions. They need him and his team to help with prospecting and he gets to take us there... So he isn't alone on jobs anymore for months. They also hired mom to train the local Planetary Defense Force."

"Oh..." Rael's shoulders sagged. He sighed deeply, bowing his head, considering what he was gonna do.

She told him, "Hey, chin up. You're going into Basic, aren't you? And you took the Military courses when we reached Secondary Education, so it'll be even shorter. Five months at most instead of the usual twelve," then smiled a little sadly, "They usually post the rookies and privates in the least dangerous zones, so they'll probably toss your ass to New Warsaw in five months..."

"Yeah. I said the same thing to mom," He sighed deeply, before looking up at her and adding, "Well... Remind me about this in five months, then," and, before Clara even had time to react, he grabbed her by the arm and stole a kiss. An awkward, bumbling, teenage kiss, but both their first. The two backed off in a second, hearing a few whistles and cheers from some of the classmates they were closer with, but both were too busy being... Well... Yeah, awkward teens.

Clara, face as red as a tomato, swallowed, then giggled. Her voice rose slightly as she said, "Duly noted, then, Rael'Zorah vas Rannoch," before the two turned back to dancing in each-other's embrace. Come what may, the two figured they'd always have each-other's backs. Even as kids. What was five months apart anyhow? It wasn't like anything bad was gonna happen.

New Warsaw

12:45 PM local time

Space Elevator facility Anchor-08

About a week later...

A crew officer, Navy Commander from the rank pins, sat at his station, looking a little disheveled as he stared carelessly at the screens ahead of him. The interface danced with a thousand pinpoint light pricks showing traffic to and from FTL. IFF tags presented themselves as various Civilian freighters coming to haul supplies. He arranged his unbuttoned uniform jacket and took a sip of his morning coffee, watching the traffic and listening to radio from the six frigates currently patrolling the system.

He sighed, then looked around at his fellow crew. Some of the rookies were still a bit up-tight about the situation, including the daughter of the Xens, Daro. She paced around the place, scratching the back of her neck, where the neural lace had only recently been installed. He called out, "Ensign. Calm your ass down. You're stirring the pot a little too much..."

She sighed deeply, then sat herself down at her station. Radio operations and contact with the flotilla of vessels providing escort. That was her job. She tapped a few buttons and murmured, "Ships are still on standard patrol pattern, three and three, split into groups. They're on their way back to the station..." before sighing and leaning her head on the keyboard. She felt it close and landed with her forehead firmly against the console's top.

"You really need to relax, Daro," An older Quarian said as she looked over the Geth-linked AI Console, tapping a few buttons to mark the beginning of checks. She looked past the transparent holographic screen at the young woman, whose black hair flowed a little loosely today, before telling her, "It's not worth fighting it. When the Mass Relay is shut off, we'll basically just be here to make sure some space trucker ain't trying to smuggle drugs."

"I know," The girl mumbled, "Doesn't mean I can't be bored and worried. That Relay is still linked to the Network," then she pointed out at the flashing blue star in the far, far distance, just opposite the system's own solar body from them. Below, through the windows, she could see the lush, beautiful greenery of the mountainous and jungle-filled planet down below. It had other minor biomes, but the heat, combined with other various climate issues, made the planet a perfect breeding ground for the alien jungle to take 'root'.

"Even if something comes through it, we're a call away from the nearest UNSC outpost..." The male officer quipped as he watched the daily Marine patrol roll through the place. He shrugged and said, "Added to it is that we're a backwater colony. What interest would they even have in hitting us?"

"Problem one is that we're a long way away from reinforcements," Daro replied, leaning back into her seat, "Due to even the reserves being far out, fighting in the Skyllian Verge. Problem two is exactly what you just said. We're a small, new colony. Easy pickings for anyone trying to make a mark on the League's record. Only thing giving me a degree of solace is the six heavy-duty Concord-classes we have on patrol."

"I heard that the Admiral is in some sort of meeting, too, Daro," The Quarian woman quipped, "Who knows? Maybe you're right. Maybe we should be worried," Which garnered a few laughs.

... Regardless of the jokes, though, deep down, everyone felt what Daro was saying. There were rumors spreading throughout FLEETCOM that the Turians were mobilizing for something. ONI had even warned and Admiral Kaine had listened, obviously. She even said that the moment Kar'shan would fall, they'd swing back around to the Core Worlds at maximum speed. Something was happening. The war wasn't gonna end easily, was it?

A moment and a heartbeat later, alarms blared. The sensor officers immediately got back to work, Marines scrambling as multiple new contacts appeared. The Sensor officer, mouth agape, stared at the contacts near the mass relay for a moment, then swallowed. He tried to utter out a word, hit himself in the chest, then barked, "New contacts, incoming from the Mass Relay! IFF codes are not ours!"

"Keelah," Murmured Daro. She radioed, "All crew, red alert! Unidentified ships have entered orbit. Battlestations!" switched channels and said, "Task Group Ghost, return to the Colony at flank speed! We've got incoming!" and then again, switched channels and barked, "Unidentified ships," her voice cracking. She grit her teeth, steeled her voice and demanded, "Unidentified ships! Provide IFF Codes and state your business, or you will be fired upon!"

... A moment later, a calm, steady voice filled the room's speakers. A man spoke, "This is General Septimus Fedorian of the Turian Hierarchy. I speak to you from on-board the Dreadnought Executor. I have a dozen warships and three of the finest Legions of the Hierarchy's military at my service. Strike your colors and surrender and I promise you, no harm will come to you or the colony you defend. We're here on orders to put an end to your war of aggression..." and he seemed almost sorrowful.

The command deck of the Anchor Station grew cold. The Quarians and Humans all looked to one-another, while the Geth platform that had just entered the room saluted and stopped, waiting to see what would come next. It and a dozen others like it had already grabbed their weapons, showing readiness to fight as the alarms now blared in the background, red lights flashing across the station.

"What do we do?" The Quarian woman asked, staring at their CO, "We can't let them take the Colony."

"... You all told us what the Turians fight like. That's an invading army out there..." The Commander replied, face grim. He looked over to the Geth, nodded to them, then breathed in deeply, scratching his chest. He buttoned up his shirt, then licked his lips, looking around at his people as if he was asking for permission for what they all knew they had to do. Each gave a grim nod, Geth included, before the man's eyes settled on a terrified Daro. She seemed to think for a moment, noting that this was supposed to be an unanimous decision.

Licking her lips and breathing a trembling sigh, she looked up at the Commander and gave a nod of approval. The man breathed a sigh, then nodded back at her. She quickly transferred over radio controls to him and he leaned against his console, activating his microphone. He leaned toward it, paused for a bitter moment as sweat draped his clothes and dripped down. He licked his lips, tasting the salt, then spoke, his voice steely, focused, "This is Commander Thomas Kowalski, of the UNSC orbital station Anchor-18, in overall command of the picket and orbital defenses of the planet of New Warsaw. Our ancestors did not surrender two hundred years ago worse than you... And we will not surrender to you, either..."

A deep, regretful sigh echoed in reply over the com. Fedorian spoke, "Very well. Fair winds, Commander. May the Spirits guide your soul," and the com shut off.

Alerts blared and the Geth presence finally vocalized, its voice female, "Enemy ships have charged weapons and are moving into combat formation. Direct intercept course ETA:Fifteen minutes. Communique from Task Group Ghost:COMBAT READINESS, ONE HUNDRED PERCENT. On your orders, Commander," its form materializing in a holographic pedestal next to him. He nodded, then grit his teeth, breathing slowly to try and still his heart.

He barked, "All ships, combat formation! All station defense systems, emergency power-up! Give me missile solutions and remove safeties off of SHIVA Tubes One through Fifteen! Launch every fighter and drone we have at our disposal! Send a message over FTL to the rest of the League, CODE:VERMILLION PRIORITY!" then he slammed his fist into the console, "And someone get the god-damned planetary Garrisons to action stations!"

Outside, a golden blanket soon wrapped around the station as its defensive railguns, laser turrets and plasma batteries came online. The shield soon disappeared in the light bathing it from the planet. The station's hangars soon opened and dozens of fighters launched under the power of magnetic catapults, followed by WINGMAN drones, Geth-run fighter craft connected directly to the fighters' central computers, providing linked combat strength for all units.

Task Group Ghost soon formed up into a ball around the station, the leading ship of the line at the rear. On board the Grey Ghost, captain Faen'Haaroll ordered, "Give me targeting solution for nukes. Prep to scramble our own drones," as he leaned back into his seat, surveying the area ahead. The fighter squadrons buzzed past them at high speed, moving to intercept the Turians' own deployed fighter squadrons.

They saw the blue flare of the Turian warships' engines and their sensors picked up their vessels. Their frigates were in battle formation, too, a claw specifically. Four prongs, with the leading frigate in the middle. The supporting cruisers and the two dreadnoughts were farther behind, preparing their batteries for long-range bombardment if one was to assume.

"Firing solutions achieved, sir. All ships in the picket are synched," The gunnery officer replied. Ahead, flashes of lightning appeared, followed by trails of tracers. The Turians' avian-like interceptors and the UNSC fighters and their supporting Drones engaged, plasma, magnetic cannons and missiles meeting the enemy head-on as a furball formed between the two fleets.

"Fire," The Captain ordered. The six frigates' main guns roared, followed by the hiss, decoupling and contrails of a hundred missiles leaving their launch system bays. Amidst them, nuclear payloads flew, arrows of death for the enemy due to their increased payloads. GARDIAN point-defense lasers greeted the missiles as they intercepted the frigates. Several Archers flashed and died under the point-defenses. Others, however, slipped through, striking the front armor and kinetic barriers of the Frigates.

... The Turian Frigates, however, did something unexpected as the nuclear payloads reached them. They powered their engines, flaring azure as the first missiles struck, anmd split the picket in two. Flashes of white filled the air and one or two contacts winked off the screen at first, but the other ships soon hit maximum throttle, charging toward the UNSC's own warships and station in a terrifyingly adaptive pincer attack that was soon to envelop the defensive cordon.

MACs fired next, meeting the enemy ships as the Frigates moved into better defensive positions. The station's railguns and plasma cannons opened up, flashing beams striking around and on the Turian vessels. The MACs struck, too, clanging against the Kinetic barriers and armor. One Turian ship took two MAC rounds. One collapsed its barriers and the other punched clean through, but unlike their Batarian counterparts, it still had fight in it.

Turian kinetic batteries soon opened up in reply. The weapons fired rapidly, though they were weaker. Two frigates focused on one enemy ship at a time, firing into them with their rapid-fire mass drivers. Shields flashed and flared under the barrages, but the UNSC ships, almost as agile as them, moved to counter. One frigate, the Woe Is Me, utilized its thrusters to maximum efficiency while also powering its Eezoo core. Reducing its mass by about 30% allowed it to move faster and more agilely than a Turian warship, whose side cannons still laid into it.

She fired her MAC again, striking the side of the Turian ship and clipping one of the 'wings' as the barrier failed. The warship tumbled a little and turned utilizing its own thrusters to return fire, letting out a volley of kinetic fire at the UNSC vessel. To its aid, came one of its sisters, who fired into the side of the UNSC Frigate. The Frigate's laser cannons and railguns replied, barraging the enemy warship with kinetic penetrators while the lasers cut lattices and deep gashes into the nose armor. One beam even caught one of the mass drivers, causing it to explode.

The station's mass drivers provided support while its own nuclear payloads were being saved for something else. Beams of plasma flashed and one shot caught a Turian frigate just as it was turning to engage the Grey Ghost, bisecting it amidships. Its crew still fired their mass drivers in response, the shields of the UNSC ship soon flaring and failing in a brilliant gold flash.

The Captain of the Ghost winced and ordered, "Bring us about!" as the ship fired her plasma lance at another Turian vessel that was barrelling right toward them and firing its cannons. Several shots impacted the top armor of the Frigate, one round puncturing through the MAC cowling. The man swore, "Fuck!" as he saw the MAC was down. The plasma lance fired again at the enemy ship while defense turrets laid into it as well. The beam cut into the maw of the Turian ship and slashed down through the belly.

The Captain ordered, "All ships, form up on me! Hit reverse thrusters and prepare Damage Control!" and he fired his other Nuke. The missile arched out from the launcher as laser cannons and his plasma lance fired again, supported by the Station's own guns. They cut through the body of the ship, disabling its defenses, but the missile went wide and started tracking one of the Cruisers, which was closing distance.

... On board the station, the Commander saw the Frigates were getting hammered, damage reports flooding in. The good news was that they'd taken a couple of the Turians' frigates with them, too, but-He paused. A bright, burning-white flash filled the room as one of the UNSC Frigates ahead broadcast a mayday signal. He looked up and watched as multiple ships, including a Cruiser that had just gotten into range, fired their mass drivers and secondary cannons.

The vessel was peppered by blasts, its shields failing. A burning gash was cut into its maw, followed by a strike to the ionization chamber of the plasma lance. The ship went up like a bonfire next, exploding, its crew's mayday cut short. The debris floated past and even struck the shields of Anchor-18. The crew stood, stunned for a moment, as one of their Frigates now lay in pieces.

The Commander grit his teeth, sighed, then ordered, "All frigates, scramble for cover in the asteroid belt and engage in harrassment operations! We're not losing another one of you when the Dreadnoughts get close! We'll hold the line!" only to hear a deep sigh in reply. As another UNSC Frigate was taken out of commission by focused fire, that left four to retreat. Powering their Eezoo cores, the ships 'jumped' away in various directions, disappearing off the tactical map for a minute. He then ordered, "All cannons, continue firing! Launch nukes!"

The station exploded in a flurry of fire. Plasma beams, lasers, kinetic tracers and nuclear missiles flew, filling the void between them and the encroaching Turian fleet in deadly fire. Flashes of nuclear detonation filled their viewports as the station started to shake. Magnetic cannons laid into the shields, making them flare. The return fire was deadly, catching another pair of Turian Frigates and slashing them apart via plasma and laser fire.

One of the plasma beams slashed across the aft section of the closest Cruiser. Tongues of flame lashed out from the cut-up armor as oxygen escaped. The armor plating had eaten a chunk of it, but there was still visible damage across multiple decks, causing the Cruiser to list to the right. It, however, fired its guns in retaliation, finally shattering the shields.

... Then, something surprising happened. The larger Turian vessels ceased fire as the Frigates opened up again. They sniped turret after turret, causing the station to sprout several flame geysers as ammo cooked off. When that ended and the crew on board were thoroughly thrashed about, Daro groaned, standing up as her console burned, the glass around them cracking enough to where the bulkhead armored doors came down to stop decompresion. She looked up and said, "Sir..."

"I see them," The man groaned, holding onto his gut, "They're deploying boarding craft..."

"Good thing I sent a warning to prepare for boarding earlier," The other Quarian breathed heavily, holding onto her side. She was bleeding. Kowalski scrambled to his feet, grabbing a medical kit off the wall and going to tend to her. Daro looked at the cracked screen showing enemy disposition again. They'd scored nearly half-a-dozen destroyed Frigates and a heavily damaged Turian Cruiser for two of their own defense Frigates. Not a bad trade...

Still...

She slowly stood up to her feet and felt her belt. Her hand landed on a self-molding plastic grip and the clip holding the weapon in place. Pulling back the clip and pulling the pistol out, she racked the slide, murmuring, "Never thought I'd have to fire this thing immediately after basic..." as the thumps of docking clamps filled their ears. She watched the Commander close her fellow Quarian's eyes, then draw his own pistol. He took the woman's ammo and spread it around.

"Hell of a First Week on The Job, eh, Daro?" The man quipped, though his voice sounded neither jovial, nor friendly. He fed a round into his weapon's chamber, before looking at the trembling girl. He told her, "I'll be damned if I surrender this place without a fucking fight... I can't ask you to do the same. Any of you..." and he looked at the other members of the crew, "... If push comes to shove? Surrender. Don't throw your lives away... Maybe you'll get lucky with how the Turians treat you..."

However, his reply came in the form of determined looks from his soldiers and staff. Each nodded, face a steel mask as they prepared their sidearms and anything they could use as a weapon as the thunder of gunfire soon echoed, though muffled, all the way up to the Command Room. He smiled, proud, then nodded and readied his pistol, taking cover behind a console and pointing toward the closest doorway.

On New Warsaw

01:45 PM

The muffled screams of air raid sirens filled Clara's ears. She'd only been here for a week, for Christ's sake. Were they really starting bomb training already? She stirred awake, however, then jumped when her mother yanked the blanket off of her and said, "Clara, let's fucking move! CODE BLACK!" words which caused the girl's blood to freeze in her veins.

She scrambled to her feet, quickly changed from her nightgown into whatever she could find and saw that her mom was donning body armor and carrying an ancient rifle, an MA5k. The woman extended to her a pistol, telling her, "Looks like this place ain't quite the vay-cay spot we expected it to be. C'mon," and leading her down the stairs of their prefab home. She handed the girl shoes and a bag of items. Her bug-out bag. They'd even searched her mom and her aboard the civvie transport that'd brought them over.

Exiting out into the street, the girls soon saw Warthogs rolling out onto the streets, followed by Oryx IFVs and Sun Devil anti-air batteries. On top of roofs, MG nests made up of sandbag walls had already been set up and were being manned by machinegunners and snipers. Anti-Air Artillery tracked the skies and, past the village walls, the thick canopy of the jungle they lived in was visibly being shaken by troop movements.

The girl looked up and gasped, watching as what looked like a meteor shower came down. She soon realized, however, that that was not a meteor shower. She realized it, in fact, about the time the bird-like shapes of unknown warships floated down around the central 'stalk' of the Space Elevator, its ring structure shaking under the weight of thrusters.

Clara's mom took her hand and lead her out to the same post where her dad was, manning an anti-air battery. He told them, "Word of mouth is it's them... The Citadel. Turian forces," in a quiet murmur. The SAM tracked the first enemy fighters to appear out of the hangars and the first missile launched into the air. He grunted as the gusts of wind nearly knocked them off their feet, then told his wife, "Get yourself and Clara as far away from here as possible! We won't be able to put a dent in those ships with our AAA, but we might take down some of their landers!"

"We're not leaving you behind!" Clara barked, gritting her teeth. She gasped as their planetary defense fighters, their last line of defense against flying hostiles, flew in in squadrons of seven. Twelve squadrons, scrambled from the nearest airbase. Aerodynamic and armed with missiles and gatling cannons. They were made like the old aircraft and were just as maneuverable and dangerous, even with little to no Eezoo tech.

Her father placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and said to her, "Don't worry, Clara..." only to give her a kind smile. He told the two girls, "Go. Get to the secondary Rendezvous points for the Military! Wait there for the Army and Militia to rally up and devise a plan of action! The 53rd Armored and us Air Defense Jockeys will hold the line here!"

"Dad..." She spoke, then choked up. He nodded to both of them, then turned back to man the weapon.

As they moved to depart, he said, "I love you both... Take care of yourselves," then gave a wave. Clara could swear she saw tears in his eyes as well. She was definitely looking at her crying mother now, however, as the two rushed off toward a HEMTT Truck that was loading up civilians and the local militia to depart the city. The planet's garrison was decently-sized, of course. And they knew the terrain somewhat.

Clara watched from the bed of the truck as their fighters engaged the enemy's with missiles and guns from both afar and up-close. Some would get shot down by the Turians' own fighters, but they, in turn, would shoot the Turians' beak-looking aircraft down, supported by plasma and anti-air batteries mounted nearby the mining village and within the capital of the planet. New Warsaw lay behind them, behind a curtain of grass and palm trees. Tracers filled the air and gunfire echoed from afar as the first enemy transports started to land in distant clearings.

They'd be back. They'd be back for her father and for their home.

And she'd get back to Rael, or hoped that he'd come to her...