"Any station, any station, this is FOX-12! We're engaged with a battalion of X-Rays at our current location! They've got Gunships backing them up! I've lost my JTAC and am in need of Fire Support!" One panicked cry among many filtered through the radio of the truck Carla, her mother and several soldiers were riding back to an RV point. Gunfire echoed in the distance as more and more friendly vehicles from Oryxes to tanks rallied up with the convoy.

Carla braced and mumbled to herself, "I'm gonna wake up in my bed, it's gonna be tomorrow, graduation day, dad decided we ain't leaving..." sort of like a prayer. Her fingers ran over the grooves on the pistol slide, one thumb flicking the safety on and off. Her index hanged off the side, though, far away from the trigger, the barrel being pointed at the floor. This was insanity.

One of the Militiamen that her mother had been training looked to the older Grayson woman and asked her, "Is she gonna be alright, ma'am?"

"Yeah, she's just... Spooked," Mama Grayson replied, looking over her MA5K. She racked the bolt of the weapon, making sure a round was fed, before looking back. She watched an Oryx's turret traverse, its 30mm autocannon soon lighting up. Carla screamed, covering her ears, while her mother leaned over, grabbing the radio transmitter from the front cab and demanding, "SHADE Four, what the fuck are you engaging!?"

"Enemy fast air!" The man replied in a hurry as the 30mm autocannon thundered steadily. The Warthogs and Saddlebacks also joined in on the cannonade, bursts of autocannon fire mixing with the whirr-pop-snap of a Gauss cannon and the hiss of SAMs. One of the enemy Fast Air birds, shaped exactly like the head of an avian, took the first burst of 30mm fire on the nose and snapped in half. Both parts of its husk landed around the convoy in balls of flame that lit the jungle ablaze.

Two aircraft's fusion jet engines roared overhead, followed by the drone of missile motors. Allied aircraft engaged the enemy's other upcoming support aircraft with missiles, striking them and entering into a dogfight. The pilot spoke, "We'll keep them off your asses, Shade. Watch your vectors, though. The bastards have a landing vessel nearby," as she turned her plane to engage the other enemy air assets.

The people felt some relief now as they rolled past the destroyed enemy aircraft. It wasn't long after that they reached the RV point. Getting off the transport, the girls soon came upon the sight of other refugees, soldiers from the Militia and the Army and Marine units stationed on the planet. A series of tents and camouflage nets had been set up within this part of the jungle, specifically cleared out for this RV point, with a lot of defensive positions nearly hidden in the jungle and already manned.

The mountains flanked them on both sides, thankfully, meaning they only had to worry about whatever would come from the city. Carla was still stunned, watching more and more friendly vehicles pouring in. MEDEVAC trucks carrying wounded, ambulances with doctors, transports with ammo and more people and a few tanks and the likes. Many of the vehicles were travelling through this temporary RV point and heading out to other positions, though.

She looked back to try and find her mom, only to watch her marching toward the command tent. She ran after her, stowing the pistol(with the safety on. She made sure) in her coat as she ran. She and her mother entered the place, pushing past the flaps and finding a human Colonel running the show with his staff all around him. He spoke over radio, "Send in FOX-09 to support twelve and get HAMMERHEAD on-station. I want their squadron running CAS Missions as much as possible from that hidden little airbase they have in Prospector's Reach. Someone get me reports on that landed Turian transport nearby us and prep a counter-response while we filter Civvies."

He looked up from his desk and nodded, "Maria, Carla. Good to see you two made it alive," before sighing and scratching the back of his head, "It's a shitshow out there. Bastards struck us across the LZs, found a couple of the RV points we had set up. Fighting in the City's going every-which-way... Hell, I think we surprised the Turians more with the basic training every Civvie shares."

"The mining outpost?" Carla asked, hopeful.

He nodded, "Air Defense is holding... Don't worry, your dad's fine," and he smiled. Both Graysons breathed a sigh of relief, before the man said, "We're trying to get to other outposts. Thank fuck for the Airbase the Air Force set up within the mountainside at Prospector's Ridge. Damn thing's providing as much of our air support as every other Airstation and OP nearby."

"What about this RV point?" Maria asked, shouldering her rifle, "How bad's the situation here?"

"Refugees are streaming in from the city and we're mixed in a nice cocktail as far as units go. I got armor from the 53rd, Marines from the 1st Regiment that were here on leave, 2nd Division units that were reassigned to us and about every color of Militia platoon under the sun. Chain of Command's still holding, but the General's in the city, coordinating the defenses near the Elevator," He told them, then pointed out on a topographical map the exact location of the city:in a massive plateau surrounded by kilometers of mountain and jungle on each side. He told them, "We're working on filtering through every report, like I said... But it's hectic."

"Every first day of an invasion usually is," Maria stated, then looked to Carla and told her, "Go find the armory. Grab a rifle, ammo and some armor. You'll need the protective gear, hon... I pray you won't have to use it, but just in case," she offered a kind smile, then patted Carla on the shoulder. The girl swallowed, pale as bone, but nodded and scrambled out of the tent, looking for the armorer.

She gasped, watching as medics unloaded wounded from the Ambulances. Soldiers that hadn't gotten their armor on, wearing only webbing. Gut wounds, slashing wounds, missing limbs. She covered her mouth, gagged and hunched over, throwing up on the mud. The same mud these men were laying in while being triaged. She shook her head, pulled her canteen from her bugout bag and doused her face in water, before running to the armorer and ignoring the pleas for help and screams of the wounded.

He looked over at Carla, nodded and pulled an MA5 out of an old box. He handed it to her grip-first, alongside webbing, a chest rig and armor and asked her with a sardonic smile, "Know how to use it, kid?" only to get a grave nod. She fumbled, nearly dropping the first magazine into the mud, but caught it just before. She slammed it home and, with trembling hands, racked the bolt, letting it slam forward. She gripped the weapon and ran back to her mother, noting the fact that it had had its cowling and ammo counter removed in favor of the rail on top, on which iron sights were mounted.

She flipped them up and prayed they were zeroed... Then paused as she heard a whistle overhead. She screamed, "MORTARS!" before falling into the mud and covering her head as the first impact came. A muffled thump followed by ringing filled her hearing. She gasped, her heavy breathing barely audible as she looked around, to see the crater was mere meters from her.

Army and Militia scrambled to defensive positions as tracers began flying. A Medic to her right helped her to her feet and slapped her right cheek twice, gently. As her hearing cleared, she started hearing the callouts from the troops. Enemy platoons were moving up to them. The Medic, whom she recognized as Richard Stauffer, the local clinic's kindhearted younger doctor, shook her, taking her attention to him, before ordering, "Carla! Listen to me! You gotta move! Get to cover and move fas-"

Carla screamed again, scrambling back as the man's head exploded in a flash of gore. She tasted his blood in her mouth and felt it on her skin. Visceral as it was, it woke her up properly. Her heart raced like a machine gun on full auto as she scrambled to her feet, grabbing her dirty rifle out of the mud. She watched her mother run out of the tent and immediately pale. The girl choked, then shook her head, pointing at the blood with broad strokes and saying, "N-Not mine... M-medic Stauffer..." while pointing at the corpse, her voice weak, quiet.

Her mother breathed a visible sigh of relief before dragging her daughter into cover behind an armored vehicle. The Oryx's turret motors whirred as it turned the cannon to meet the targets coming through the treeline. Machine guns and rifles were soon joined by the repeated thunder of the cannon as it fired HE. The jungle ahead exploded repeatedly and rhythmically.

Carla hyperventilated as she heard tracers zing over their heads, striking the Oryx's own shields. It fired in bursts of three, muffling Maria's voice, but the woman spoke, "Look, Carla, hon! We're gonna have to move fast the moment Colonel Blake gives the go-ahead for us to evac! We're gonna be fine, okay!?" and she cupped her daughter's chin, "It's gonna be alright, okay?"

Carla nodded quickly, praying mentally that Rael would not get to see this type of warfare. She and her mother stood up and looked over toward the jungle as the Oryx shifted to face the enemy with its forward armor. They saw them. Tall, lanky, armored and Avian-featured, the Turian soldiers advanced, leapfrogging from cover to cover, providing each-other supporting fire as they did so.

They were working like a well-oiled, cohesive unit. Behind them, their own armored vehicles seemed to be slowly pushing to try and support against the Oryxes and tanks that were now stirring awake. That was the thing that had fired mortars at them. It was aiming again, pointing at the Oryx. Maria screamed, "OH, SHIT! MOVE!" as she pushed her daughter out of the way. The tank's gun fired, striking the forward shield of the IFV and collapsing it.

The Oryx replied with its belt of APFSDS rounds. The necked-down depleted uranium rounds struck the bow of the enemy 'tank', a lightly armored tracked vehicle similar to its UNSC opponent, dead center, coring it. Flame gouts shot out from the belly of the tank as its turret aimed again. Despite the damage, it fired, the round surprisingly missing, but shaking the Oryx's crew.

A Scorpion MBT fired its railgun at the tank, coring it in one hit. The infantry continued advancing, however, pouring into the camp and fighting the UNSC's troops up-close. Rifles and pistols chattered and knives swung. Shotguns barked, tearing chunks of armor and the bodies of the bipedal aliens apart. Maria herself shifted her position as they got into cover and aimed over a sandbag wall, lighting the bastards up with AR fire.

Carla breathed, gripping her own weapon tightly as her mother and people she'd got to know over the last week started mounting a strengthened defense against what seemed to be an unending tide of them. She grit her teeth, then gasped as she saw one advancing from behind. She yelped, aimed, then, with the instinct drilled into her by her mother, took the safety off the gun off and fired a burst.

Armor-piercing rounds ripped through the enemy's barriers and through the weird armor they were wearing. One round punctured their face, ripping the left mandible off and sending the corpse tumbling to the floor, the oddly-colored blood spewing onto the mud. Carla barked, "Fuck you, Featherhead!" as she felt her fear change into fury for a moment, her adrenaline surging as her voice cracked. The Marines, her mother included, laughed heartily.

She didn't, though. She just killed something sentient. Killed him or her in cold blood and her first instinct was to swear...

She wanted to throw up again, but the firefight around her was more important.

Over Kar'shan.

Admiral Kaine watched surrendering Civilian vessels of the Batarian fleets. Destroyers and support craft flew up to them, stopping them and boarding them with Marines and ODST Contingents while the woman watched aboard the Moscow. The defenses on the planet were supposedly stubborn, but the Spartan teams she'd deployed ahead of time had done their jobs and disabled the sole 'threatening' issue. The surface-to-orbit mass driver.

She sighed, turned to face the League's civilian and military representatives on the Quantum Entanglement Communicator, then stated, "Kar'shan should fall within the next three days. Precision orbital bombardment is ready to destroy surviving Batarian surface bases..." before rubbing her eyes, "About fucking time we're done here. Did you people listen to my warnings?"

"About the Turians?" A female Quarian representative asked. The Admiral gave a nod, to which the woman replied, "We have. Much of our industry is currently gearing up in case they decide to try something. Similarly, we've discussed with Hanshin, Sakamoto and other important technological giants including Ingalls about providing the services of a refurbished Geth Fleet for defense duty. To supplement the Navy."

"We'd appreciate that," The woman sighed deeply, then leaned against the holographic table, watching their ships move into position on the display. She scratched her chin, feeling her heart weighed down by concern. Something was going wrong already, but it wasn't the final steps of this operation. She swallowed her own spit, then looked back and ordered, "Tell the Fifth Flotilla to prepare and provide us escort home."

The Zorah family matriarch asked, "Something the matter, Admiral?"

"I have a bad feeling. A bad one," She replied, a bit aggressive. She stared straight at the hologram of the woman and told her, "Like someone or something fucked up exponentially. Not our own, but somebody else. And my gut feelings usually aren't wrong," and she started pacing, wondering deep within the confines of her mind just what the hell suddenly got her jumpy. She sighed and asked, "How's your kid, madam Zorah...?"

"Rael?" She raised a brow, "Just went into Basic proper, not the standard training classes you guys put in."

"Shame," Kaine sighed deeply, "Kid's a good egghead, but if soldiering's what he wants to do, it's his pick," then grabbed her canteen from beside her seat and downed a swig of water. She licked her lips, her mouth feeling dry due to the concern. She approached the table again and asked, "And the 'new' colony? New Warsaw or whatever's its name. It's only been online for a little over a year now..."

"Last report was a few hours ago. They were about to shut down the Mass Relay," The Minister of Economics replied as he looked over the details on his datapad. He told her, "Nothing since, but the QEC system on the Anchor-18 has been on the Fritz for the past couple of days, so it's only natural. Speaking of the Relay," he then looked around at his compatriots, "I didn't get a reason for shutting it down. It was our way into the Galaxy once this war was over, for discussion and starting trade. Starting to brief these people about the Reapers."

"It was specifically because of the War..." The Admiral told him, "Because the Turian Councilor's warnings are actually being listened to."

"We're doing them a favor," Another Human from the Ministry of Defense quipped, crossing his arms to his chest, "Cleaning out the Batarians while they don't even have to lift a fucking finger. Birdface was probably just being coy with you, ma'am. Trying to bluster and bluff about the Turians attacking if we don't behave or some crap like that, but they'll just leave us alone."

The woman shook her head, then replied sarcastically, "I wish I had your fucking optimism, Mahmoud," as she turned to look at her bridge crew. One of the communications officers handed her the rejected peace proposal they'd sent to the Batarians. She pinched her brow, annoyed, then ordered, "All ships are clear to begin orbital bombardment. We've sent our ultimatum and they refused it... The Batarian Hegemony ends today."

Despite the salutes and quiet cheers, the crews seemed to mimic their commander's mood, their faces grim as they considered whatever was coming. It'd been a couple weeks since the Turians gave their warning. She checked the readiness reports from various defense pickets across the Colonies of the League and double-checked the production reports, noting the rising spikes in productivity at the ammunition plants, weapons factories and even the Shipyards. More and more Destroyers, Frigates and Corvettes were being deployed with Geth assistance, not to mention the Geth's own fleet had been retrofitted to combine with and operate in the wide BattleNet of the UNSC.

Not to mention the first production models of the Highlanders coming off of the assembly line. An entire battalion of mechs, ready to be brought over and deployed with their armaments. They'd be good for a morale-boosting parade if nothing happened in the next few days. They'd return home within a couple of weeks as heroes, victorious over the first enemy within the span of a month.

Gasps echoed over the com, from the Rannoch line. Everyone looked at the mother Zorah as her husband came into frame, looking haggard. The two whispered to each-other, before the woman covered her mouth. She was handed a tablet as murmurs filled the air, with the Admiral and everyone else staring at her. She scratched her cheek, grit her teeth, then sighed.

"What is it?" The Admiral asked with an edge to her voice.

"Reports should be hitting your datapad now, too, ma'am..." The Zorah mother spoke. She lowered the tablet and stated, "By request of the Citadel Council, the Turian Hierarchy has sent their official declaration of war almost a day ago," And everyone gasped save the Admiral, who knew this was coming. She furrowed her brows and urged Zorah to continue. Zorah did, her voice low,"... In that time... They have assaulted and occupied the Colony of New Warsaw."

The Admiral's face darkened considerably. She spoke, "I warned you all... Where's the closest available force?"

"Currently, fleets are still being mustered, ma'am..." Mahmoud replied, pale.

The woman growled, grit her teeth, then slammed her fist into the command console. She turned about and barked, "Get the Flotilla with us ASAP! Recall ALL Spartan Fireteams from the planet alongside Major Reegar's ODSTs! I want us underway within the next twenty-four hours back to the Core Worlds! I don't care if it takes us a day, a week or a month, I'm gathering every available warship and heading in to liberate our world!"

Affirmative replies, filled with fury, echoed. Many had family on the new colony, too. The first joint foray into Human-Quarian colonization and the bastards dared attack it. The Admiral would make them pay for every inch of soil, she swore to herself. She then ordered, "Guardian, report to the bridge," as her fury slowly bubbled down into a cold, calculated anger she was already using to make decisions.

The shipboard Geth Prime appeared in its holographic form next to the Admiral, giving one of its standard salutes, "At your service, Admiral. All Combat Forms of the Geth await your orders and will meet you at Rannoch for combat operations,"

"I want the Rayya underway with us, too," She nodded, then looked to Zorah, "Can it be done?"

"... My people are afraid. The Citadel made us Personae non Grata before for one reason or another... Left us to die when the Morning War came, despite some of our own begging them to help us..." She replied, but her hands clutched her tablet tighter, her voice filled with determination, "But I'll get them on our side. You'll have the Rayya and the Rannoch Marines at your service. Our rendezvous is above our Keelah."

Everyone else murmured to each-other. Then, to nobody's surprise, Civilian and Military unanimously agreed with grim faces and nods of approval. A fervor filled the air and void, one felt amidst the entire fleet. Like the Ghosts of two-hundred thirty years past suddenly came around them, boiling the air with a desire for vengeance. As the com system shut down, the Admiral's requested forces formed up with the Moscow and the ship began its departure...

To Rannoch, then to Warsaw... Then...

To the fucking Citadel...

On Rannoch

In three hours, the Zorah family had called up a meeting with all media across the League and in the Autonomous Republic of Rannoch itself. Government heads gathered around the family, while crowds of soldiers, officers, politicians and mixed crews of cadets and troops. Rael was amidst the crowd, too, clad in his green cadet's uniform. He'd heard rumors of the situation that had occurred, but prayed they weren't true. The fear in the room, however, told him said prayers were for naught. He felt a pit in his stomach...

His mother. He could see her and his dad, both of them on the stage with other heads of the government, talking as cameras flashed and film cameras recorded the event. His mother seemed to tense for a moment, swallowing emptily. She turned to face the room and the murmurs that had until now filled the place suddenly silenced themselves. The room was deathly quiet, only the light of Tikkun shining through the skylights above.

The woman arranged the microphone on the stand, looked back at her husband and smiled. The man smiled back and gave a nod of approval, before looking amidst the crowd to notice his son. The two locked eyes for a moment and his father smiled at him, proud, though with a certain sadness behind his gaze. His son smiled back, but the worry bubbling up in his chest grew. He saluted back, then straightened his posture.

His mother, donning the sash, uniform and brands of the Zorah family proudly, leaned forward and spoke, "Greetings, my dear people," her voice filled with focus. She spoke on, "I and the rest of the Government of Rannoch are well and truly aware of the fear you all must feel at the events that have occurred within the past twenty-four hours. I will not sugarcoat my words or attempt to make light of the situation. For those of you who do not know yet... The Black League has been invaded by the Turian Hierarchy. Our first joint Colony, New Warsaw has come under attack by a Turian Expeditionary Fleet..."

A few gasps filled the room, including those of fellow cadets and recruits of Rael. The young man felt his heart drop at the news, well aware that that was where Carla was. She was stuck with an entire army of Turians and a fleet hovering over their heads like an executioner's ax. He was never much of a religious man, not even when the League reintroduced some of their old religious books, like the Bible and Torah, to libraries, even allowing churches to be open. Yet today? He was praying... Praying Carrie was okay...

"Reports are scarce, but what we know is that the Defense Fleet scored several kills against the enemy fleet and the Army, Marines and PDF are engaged in combat operations. Have been for the past days," She spoke, then licked her lips as she looked at the photo of Carla and Rael in their prom outfits on her tablet. She narrowed her lips, then continued, "The heavens know how many of our people are fighting. Amidst them, I know for a fact a family close to mine is in the crossfire."

She put up the image on a holographic screen, that of the Zorahs and Graysons together, before leaning against the stand and stating, "We've lost family and friends to this assault. We will sadly lose more before this war is over, but will this foreshadow our defeat? After we've spent so long running, praying, surviving!?" and a fire started to burn in her heart. Her son's, meanwhile, felt like it nearly broke. He needed to have a talk with her about this.

"I look upon you all, so afraid of our Old Enemy, of the people who've left us for dead... And I say that, no, this is a new beginning!" She told them, her voice now strong, burning with that same fire that began to erupt. To the gasps and surprise of her people, "Compared to the Citadel Council and their lapdogs, the national resources of the Black League and Rannoch may be small! Barely a fifth! Despite this, the League, in their infinite strength and wisdom, have brought us to their side! They've put an end to a hundred-year conflict between us and our beloved creations, spawned out of misunderstanding and fear!"

"Despite them coming here as refugees nearly two centuries ago, their civilization, our civilization, flourishes! Their own Old Enemy tried to murder them, to extinguish the light of our Human brothers before they came here! That light burns brighter now than ever before, a flame fueled by both their will and that of the Quarian People, reborn upon our union with our beloved allies!" She recited, her voice filled with pride as the cameras rolled, "That same flame that allowed us to return to Rannoch! That same flame that brought us together with our creations!"

"And in this cruel war, this war against the Batarian Hegemony, a slaver state, a righteous war of self-defense, the Citadel Council dares walk in and demand that we surrender! Afraid to fight in a head-on battle, because they know our goal is a righteous one! It has been a little over a century since they've left us all for dead, left our ancestors to rot on the Migrant Fleet in squalor and fear while they stood in their ivory towers on the Citadel, trampling over us and calling us dirty beggars! The contempt they held for us should not be forgotten!"

She slammed her hand against the stand as her heart welled, eyes aflame metaphorically speaking. She spoke, "Our war was near its end! Perhaps many of us had become complacent... The Citadel has remained a stagnant autocracy masquerading as a Democratic union. We've done their job for them. The League and Rannoch have expended great resources to prepare ourselves for the Great Cataclysm while they stay on their great Station in the Serpent Nebula, stuck in their and political machinations."

She paused for a moment's breath, looking at the enraptured crowd around her. Her own son stared, amazed at how well her mother spoke, which made her smile a little. Regardless, she pushed down the happiness and put on her poker face again, "Many of our friends and families have perished thanks to the disregard and contempt of those who were supposed to be higher than us, helping the more youthful. Many more will certainly perish now under the Turians' brutal occupation, but do not let that discourage you. Your fury! Your will! Like those upon which we've molded ourselves, focus upon them, USE THEM!" as cheers slowly began to fill the room...

"And when you face our enemy in battle, SHOW THEM THE NEW WILL OF THE QUARIAN PEOPLE! THE STRENGTH WE'VE FOUND IN OUR ALLIES AND IN THE RETURN OF OUR HOMEWORLD!" She smiled, raising her hands high, "LET VICTORY BE THE GREATEST TRIBUTE WE CAN GIVE TO THE DEAD! RISE, RISE AND WIELD YOUR FURY AS A SWORD WITH WHICH TO DEFEAT THE FOES AND ESTABLISH THE MIGHT OF OUR KIN NOW AND FOREVER!" before snapping a salute, "TO VICTORY FOR THE BLACK LEAGUE! SIEG RANNOCH!"

The room erupted, balled fists raised into the sky and cheering, "SIEG RANNOCH! SIEG RANNOCH! SIEG RANNOCH!" with even young Rael crying out the battle cry. He was still unsure, angry at his mother for implying that Carla was gone, that her family was gone. Part of him didn't want to even comment on the fact they'd adopted possibly the most 'problematic' way of saluting their homeland from that goddamned show, but alas. It was all in the name of victory and patriotic fervor meant to repalce the fear they'd felt when the news of the development first broke.

Upon the crowds being dismissed, Rael walked over to the backstage area as his parents and the rest of the Government walked off the stage. He entered the room, finding them sat there, with his mother suddenly looking up. She smiled apologetically at her son, "Rael... I'm... I know what I said. We don't know if they're dead yet. It's been a day and we're barely getting reports, but I needed something to help embolden the people..."

"... I'm hoping you didn't..." He bit his tongue, wanting to say that he hoped to hell and back that she didn't just predict their deaths. He then sighed and saluted, "I got word I'll be deployed ahead of schedule due to my advanced secondary education military training, Ma'am. Sir. I'll be on New Warsaw within the month," only to see both his parents suddenly fearful. Better to be honest, he thought, telling them, "Don't worry... I've got good battle buddies out there. I'll be fine."

... He left the room, then released the fist he'd balled in anger. He needed to get there. Fast. For Carla. Damn it all to hell, for her and her family.

Please, Carrie... Be safe.