New Warsaw City

Street to street, the sound of gunfire rippled through the air. The Army Regulars defending the colony's capital were engaged with the Turian military's forces amidst ever-growing numbers of ruins, dust and debris obscuring their sightlines as their tanks fired while only guided by their thermal sights. The few autonomous drones operated by Geth Combat Programs present with the formations were firing their autocannons and railguns at anything that moved and wasn't friendly.

In the ruins, civilian militias ambushed the Turian military squads attempting to advance on them. Every house was a pillbox they needed to take out. Their gunships were flying almost minute-by-minute raids, their main heavy cannons ripping through the concrete and the prefab buildings' thin walls to take out a few soldiers of either Quarian or Human descent. In reply, Jackhammer rocket launchers with heat-seeking were fired at the gunships, forcing them higher up and into the line of fire of missiles from the planetary defense aerospace fighters.

The fighting in the city, however, was still uncertain. A Marine platoon who barely found gear engaged enemy forces as they advanced on them. Their Lieutenant, one Jacobs, dropped a spent magazine from his BR75 and slammed a fresh one home as one of their gunners laid hell down on an alleyway a squad of Turians was attempting to breach. Jacobs called out, "Pierce, Sorensen, take the right side with the Fifty! Don't let the avian bastards take another step behind us!"

"Sir!" The two MG gunners nodded, picking up their heavy weapon and fast-marching over to a platoon of Militia, plainclothes civvies wearing rigs and carrying rifles. They set the weapon down and racked the bolt, before opening fire. Sorensen shouldered the LMG and fired bursts, watching geysers of dust jump from the walls with each bullet's impact. He and his buddy had settled in beside an overturned truck, with Sorensen himself murmuring, "Fuck me, man, it's like there's no end to these bird shits!"

His co-gunner, Pierce, held up the belt as she said, "Yeah, no fucking shit! They got the Space Elevator! They can just keep dumping troops that way!"

"This is fucked! General should order a retreat!" The man barked before firing a burst that zeroed a Turian carrying a grenade. One of their tanks rolled up behind them and its high-caliber railgun audibly charged. They felt the magnetic charge cause the hair on their hands and necks to stand on-end, only to cover their ears as the railgun hissed, then a thunderous snap filled the air.

The HE shell struck a building in the distance. A prefabricated construct made up of metallic walls. It crumpled like a tin can and fell over onto an advancing Turian IFV just as it was traversing its gun to meet them. The tank zeroed on the immobile enemy vehicle, then charged its gun. A platoon of Army troopers pushed out from behind it just as an enemy gunship swept in and fired two missiles from its wings.

The missiles struck the tank, causing the Railgun to go off prematurely. Pierce barked, "MY FUCKING EARS!" before ducking as a second volley of missiles struck the tank, detonating its fuel supply in a burst of luck for the Turians. She felt herself get lifted to her feet by the scruff of her neck. Army troopers fired their rifles as they did so, but she couldn't hear jack-shit aside from ringing.

The tank was a husk, but the tanker managed to dismount from it, grabbing his own SMG and firing bursts from it at the enemy and taking cover behind the overturned car. She hit her helmet as the ringing started to slowly fade out, before looking at the squad medic as he ran up to her. He asked her, "How many fingers am I holding up!?" only to lift two fingers.

"Two!" She snapped back, "Is Sorensen alive!?"

"He is!" The Medic nodded, grinning behind his face mask. He pointed at the machine gunner laying down the hate with his long-barreled MG. Spent casings and links formed a pile beside him as he kept up the fire, while the Army squad's own gunner stabilized himself on the side of an overturned vehicle with his box-and-belt-fed SAW, firing bursts. The Turian rifles barked back in reply, with Turian assault units pushing up toward them.

Pierce scrambled to her feet and ran back to Sorensen's side, picking up the belt and stating, "You could'a fuckin' told'em not to toss my ass to the side!"

He replied with a machine gun burst first, pinning a Turian sniper down, then looked at her and shot back, "You yelled about your ears! You fine now!?" before turning and letting the MG rip. The SAW Gunner beside them took a round to the dome and collapsed, dropping his MG to the floor. Two of his buddies pulled him into cover and another plucked up the gun, shouldering it and firing it at the position the shot had come from.

"They're ringing like a fucking bitch, but I'm fine!" She shot back. The moment she saw a featherhead's two-toed leg appear from around a corner very close to them, she drew her sidearm, an M6, then snapped off two shots. The first snapped the bird's head back. The second splattered it across the wall behind. The soldier collapsed, rifle clattering to the floor beside him. She laughed and yelled, "I love these fucking things! Two hundred years later and not even God Himself could make a better gun!"

"Blessed be Misriah, ye designers of guns. Sons and daughters of Colt," The man laughed, too, firing his MG at advancing Turian units. He ducked as a round zipped right over his head, before murmuring, "Motherfucker," and calling out, "SNIPER! FIVE O'CLOCK, COLLAPSED BUILDING, RIGHT!" as he rolled to the side and into cover. She crawled over to him, narrowly avoiding a second ringing shot. She grabbed their machine gun and started checking it after sneaking a glance down the boulevard. She saw the silhouette of the Sniper in the dust and smoke.

One of their own countersnipers moved it up, aiming with his SRS-100 Sniper. He zeroed in on the bastard and squeezed, his round travelling at twice the speed of standard 14,5mm round of the UNSC. He saw the Turian's head pop clean off through the Thermals, then nodded and activated active camouflage, moving past them to a better fighting position. Pierce mumbled, "Remind me why that shit isn't standard for all of us...?"

"We're not Scout-Snipers, Pierce," The man replied, then slammed down the top of the machine gun and poked out again with it, firing a burst while she fed him ammo. A Militiaman beside them got shot through the head twice, followed by another taking a trio of rounds in the stomach and a third getting his arm ripped off by an enemy sniper that had probably taken the place of the other guy.

The Lieutenant barked from behind cover, "SORENSEN, PIERCE, GET YOUR ASSES OVER HERE! ARMOR'S ROLLING UP!" before waving them over. The two looked to one-another with incredulous looks, before both scoffed, picked up their tools of the trade and made the sign of the cross. They then bounded across the opening between them and the El-Tee under the ringing fire of enemy troops.

Sorensen shifted the MG onto his shoulder and said, "Sir, with all due respect, you just saw what happened to our fucking Armor!" pointing at the husk of the Scorpion and the dismounted crewman now fighting as infantry. The Lieutenant nodded, then jabbed a thumb back with a grin. A pair of Oryx IFVs rolled forward, their autocannons ripping into the enemy's front line with HE shells. A tank advanced behind them and let loose its cannon while Militia and infantry advanced behind them.

Overhead, a pair of Sparrowhawk Gunships swept the area with laser cannons and ATGMs. Beams drilled holes into the Turians' cover like small, angry suns while the ATGMs took out Turian support vehicles. Overhead, their aerospace superiority fighters still battled the Turians' own airpower for control. The airspace was contested like hell, but at least they were mostly keeping the enemy's gunships off of them. Mostly, going by the dead tank.

The other Scorpion's main gun fired and quite a few windows shattered thanks to the blast. In the distance, another building exploded, with Sorensen and the others joining the armored advance down the boulevard. The Lieutenant, meanwhile, spoke on the radio, "WARDADDY, This is EAGLE-2-Actual, mobile with Army AFVs toward Rendezvous point Lima! We'll be providing evac to the civvies trapped in the Industrial Housing sector! Roger, sir! Yes, we need Air Support in the AO! If the two Sparrows above us can be spared!"

Sorensen shifted the MG onto his back now, using magnetic locks and handing the remaining ammo in the box to Pierce. She slung it over her shoulder, clipped the two other spare boxes she had, then drew her MA40 off of her back as they pushed through with the Army. Walls collapsed ahead of them as the 30mm autocannons laid low anything that moved and the 120mm Railgun simply vaporized anything else.

Up above, the pair saw Sun Devil flak shells exploding amidst the fighting air forces. Pierce mumbled, "Fuck me, man, look at that clusterfuck..." before turning her head. She saw a pair of Quarian Militia advance toward them and waved them over, before asking, "What're your names and ranks?!"

"Vala'Mal vas Doran and Sarel'Mal vas Doran! We were engineers sent here from Rannoch! We're both Privates!" The leading woman, a black-haired Quarian beauty, spoke as she hefted her MA5k and fired a burst. The Turians replied in kind with bursts from their own assault rifles, with little regard for what they were hitting. The vehicles rolled past a series of shops nearby a hab block.

Pierce asked, "You have family over in the Industrial area?!"

"We do!" Vala replied, "Mother and father! They're probably already fighting the Turians themselves!" with worry in each word. Damned if Pierce didn't understand that feeling. She had family of her own somewhere in this clusterfuck to go find, but she and Sorensen had to make sure nothing squawked ahead of the unit without their permission, being team MG operators.

The tank's gun thundered again as the Marines, Army and Militia pushed, but the Turians fired at them from occupied buildings still. Craters pockmarked the surface of the road ahead and, finally, they could see corpses. From soldier, Marine and the poor people caught in the fight, not to mention Turians. An enemy gunship overhead exploded as an Air-to-Air missile scored a hit, while the Lieutenant was playing a nasty balancing act of calling out targets for their CAS on the BattleNet while making sure they weren't walking right into the fire.

The Sparrowhawk Gunships, lighter VTOL aircraft that could be armed with a variety of weapons, floated overhead, firing their laser weapon batteries at the advancing Turians. One of them strafed left as a Turian fighter swept in, trying to shoot it down, but a second managed to hit it with a burst. Its right VTOL engine caught ablaze, but it managed to stabilize itself and turn away, heading for any nearby airbase.

As the pilot and gunner swept over the city, they saw the dozens of flashpoints. Infantry fighting infantry in the prefab blocks on the southern side of town, sniper duels near Pioneer Square, the open-air mall acting as the position for their Mako 152mm artillery cannons and MLRS systems and the Turians' overall heavily-contested advances across the AO. Rising smoke pillars blotted out certain parts of the city, with the pilot even flying through one.

The Space Elevator and Dropships around them did not slow down, dropping troops into the fray to surround the city and press them from all sides, divide it and conquer it. Fighting on the outskirts somehow managed to be even worse as the troops battled amidst burning jungles and amidst destroyed temporary housing for newly-arrived civilians. The City itself was taking a hell of a beating, with no certainty over who was winning even as night began to fall.

The Jungle

The Colonel's staff stacked the dead Turians from the raid against their checkpoint nearby. Their own soldiers, Militia and the few dead civilians that were caught in the crossfire, meanwhile, were put in body bags and prepared for transport out of the place. Clara sat by the Colonel's radio, curled up in a ball and hugging her legs while listening to the ever-increasing reports of the firefights breaking out at various other Rendezvous Points.

The twin moons of the planet hanged high above the planet. They could still hear the distant gunfire even from where they were. Distant explosions flashed in the starlit sky, alongside burning fires. She rubbed her face, wiping Turian blood off as she did so. She sighed deeply and shakily as she stood to her feet, gripping the strap of her rifle as she turned toward the Colonel and her mom.

She was about to walk to them when she heard the radio crackle to life. The entire camp seemed to stop dead, turning to face it. It was a broadcast on all channels, the crackle of static filling the air for a moment as the troops and survivors turned to listen. The voice of General Espera echoed like a ghostly sound throughout the camp, mixed with gunfire from within the HQ. He was terrifyingly calm as he spoke, "Hello? Hello, hello! If you can hear me, this is General Francisco Espera of the New Warsaw Defense Front. Turian forces have entered the General Headquarters in the city. This will be my final message. I send brotherly greetings to all the troops currently fighting within the city and in all other parts of our beloved home..."

He seemed to gather his wits, the chilling noise of a cocking pistol filling the broadcast as the door behind him audibly thundered with kicks and gunshots. He spoke proudly, "Remember and keep up the fight! New Warsaw is not yet lost! Long live the Black League! To the Eternal Memory of Terra, our long-lost birthworld!" and the sound audibly cut to the Black League's ever-familiar, grim anthem of The Sacred War just as the enemy breached the doors.

Silence once more fell upon the camp as the transmission got cut off, followed by the distant thunder of the loudest explosion they'd heard so far. Clara breathed shakily, the grip on her rifle's strap tightening. She covered her mouth, then looked around at the soldiers and people around. The Colonel stepped up, stating, "Load up, people. We're moving out to RV Point Theta before the Turians start pushing us again. Seventh Company's waiting for us there..."

A momentary silence, then the people, regardless of how filled with tears their eyes were or how tired they'd become, complied. They loaded supply boxes and the dead into one of the trucks, then boarded the civvies in another and sent them forth under the escort of a Saddleback MRAP and their only Oryx. The tank and their Sun Devil prepared to move next, setting up.

There was a certain grim determination among them all. As they packed their kit and stole the enemy's very weapons from their corpses, they prepared. Carla herself swallowed air, then joined her mother, helping lift their weaponry and gear and setting it aside on board the MRAPs. Within five minutes, the camp itself had been dismantled and loaded up onto the other trucks.

She and her mother sat silently aboard the MRAP as it rolled down the dirt paths least-travelled, under the canopy of the jungle and cover of night. The gunner of the MRAP scanned the air nonetheless, watching as damaged fighters flew back to resupply and rearm, continuing the fight over the city for their own sakes and the sakes of the people still stuck below.

Clara tugged at her collar, feeling tears well in her eyes. Were they really done for? The General was probably gone, meaning the enemy now had uncontested tactical superiority. The bastards had a working top-down command chain while their divisions were left with nothing but local commanders, COs and NCOs. They were a decentralized Army, however...

And they had an order... Fight.

She gasped as she heard a young girl beside her, maybe no older than seventeen, her face grim, bloody, left hand gripping onto what seemed to be a bloodied pendant. The girl cradled an MA5B. She was Quarian, with black hair as beautiful as the night. She was humming. Humming a very familiar tune. The tune that had defined humanity's fight. An ironically old tune from the days of dictatorships, now sung by Free People, descendants of two kins of survivors.

The two young women locked eyes and for a second Clara could see fury burning behind those shining blue eyes, a fury shared by even her mother on the truck. A few others soon joined in the humming slowly, until the whole truck was humming. Someone had to break the ice, Clara thought as she saw the faces of the people aboard, afraid, angry, worried. So, she grit her teeth, then began, "... Let our righteous fury..." before the others vocalized in unison with her, letting their anger be known, "... Wash over them like a wave... This is the People's War...!"

This is a SACRED WAR!

On board the Moscow

The Admiral gazed upon the ebbing flow of Slipspace, though the only thing in the back of her mind was anger. Anger at the enemy for being audacious enough to actually keep to their promises and invade them. She'd have a few choice words for Sparatus the next time the man contacted her. There would be no surrender here. No capitulation to any terms.

She turned, marching over to the holographic table and looming over it, watching the Galaxy gently turn on its axis. Marks pointed out Citadel Space, colonies close-by to the Terminus and the home-worlds of the three Alien species at the head of this alien hegemony that had so stupidly declared war on them. She heard the Prime step up beside her and said, "... Tell me, what would your people have done against such brazen aggression?"

"I believe you know the answer to that, Admiral Kaine," The Prime replied, calm.

"Humor me..." She almost barked at the poor AI like he was at fault.

He nodded, "We would have defended ourselves. Aggressively," before noting that the woman was marking possible target locations as scouted by their Prowlers and other research vessels. He completed, "At least until the possible enemy would be removed from the Veil. Afterward, if we were to pursue further aggression, the Consensus would have required unanimity."

The Admiral sighed deeply, "As beautiful as that is to think about, we beings of flesh and bone and brains are beings of strange action," And she hit a button. New Warsaw appeared as a flat two-dimensional image taken by a nearby probe. Turian ships, debris and a damaged Anchor-08 station. She sighed deeply, then added, "Our emotions drive us. The easiest emotion to instill is fear... And I'm afraid that we will have to show the Citadel what that means if we are to start preparing them. That means victory in this war, or terms favorable only to us..."

"Your plans for a counter-offensive after the retaking of New Warsaw are sound, ma'am," The AI replied as he walked over to her, a towering machine intellect in a towering machine's body. With his hands behind his back, he stated, "However, I do wish to express the concern of all Geth over what you would plan to do to instill such a feeling as you seek."

"Simply put? Nothing too major beside proving to them that we were merely caught by surprise this time," She replied and checked the time for their arrival over Rannoch. Another few minutes. She continued, "It's why we're mobilizing your fleet as well," then walked over to the ship's observation windows with the mech. Scratching her chin, she murmured, "Hell of a first time to visit Rannoch, though... But..." and smirked. As the ship transitioned out of Slipspace, the sight of the Geth Fleet in all of its might, now modified to fit Human-Quarian co-design policies, appeared alongside other mustering units over the rocky world. She spoke, "I'd argue it might be the best, too..."

... Truly...