Gunfire rippled through the trees on the fourth day of the Turian invasion and occupation of New Warsaw. Platoons of advance Turian scouts screened for the main force of armor and infantry that was advancing behind them. The UNSC's forces, meanwhile, held the line to the best of their current abilities. With the planetary defenses scattered across so many axes of advance, the Turians had more of a reach than anyone though.

Still, Resistance crews like the one the Turian scouts currently engaged in their light vehicles were working overtime, trying to delay the enemy. Improvised explosives detonated as the first and last vehicles crossed over them, brilliant flashes of light followed by the deafening thunder of the explosions, the shockwaves rippling through the trees and the few bodyparts that survived the initial blast flying into the sky.

Maria ducked into cover, slamming a fresh magazine home into her MA5K, racking the bolt and poking out again. She fired and a Turian caught a full-on burst to the chest as his shields were recovering. Two shots shattered the recovering kinetic barrier while the third, fourth and fifth punctured his armor, toppling him. She ducked as rounds zipped over her head and replied with her own, though she was more-so firing to suppress the enemy units.

From ahead of the Turian column, two Jackhammer missiles arced down into the formation. Two more vehicles detonated violently right in the center of the mud-stopped formation. Maria barked over radio, "Targets destroyed! All troops, retreat back to rendezvous points, now!" before thumbing the safety on her rifle and running as gunfire erupted from the Turians' lines again.

Gunships flew overhead, hostile ones. Their cannons let loose in reply, cutting down several Army and a couple of Militia troopers as they retreated, but the reply was quick and decisive, bursts of 40mm twin-linked cannon fire from their Sun Devils erupted from the jungle, ripping through the barriers, then the armor of one gunship and causing it to smoke as the holes drilled burst aflame.

The second gunship moved to cover its sibling, guns suddenly turning away from the retreating gun infantry as a heat-seeking Jackhammer missile lanced out from among the trees. The gunship's guns rippled and the missile exploded mid-flight, but more forty-mil rounds ripped through the forest canopy and shattered the glass cover of the cockpit, raining shards and shrapnel onto the pilot and gunner.

The two gunships swiveled about, limping for their base of operations in the city. Turian forces, meanwhile, began a gradual pullback toward allied lines while their wirelesses blared to life with encrypted signals, probable orders for retreat. The rearguard of the Black League's troops opened up on them, nailing a few more retreating bastards before fully displacing and moving back out into the jungle.

Sergeant Grayson flicked on her radio and spoke, "This is Ghost-4. Enemy patrol disrupted due South-East of point Violet. Retreating to point Whiskey. Be advised, fifteen casualties sustained," her voice filled with bitterness. They'd been at this kind of crap for the past three days, stalling the Turians' unending advance into the jungle itself, deeper into the continent. She heard a doctor huff and puff while carrying one of their wounded, a Marine with a leg that had been torn off by the Gunships.

She grabbed the doc, pointed at the man's pale face and rolled-back eyes and said, "Leave him somewhere safe! We'll bury him later!" to which the Medic, tears in his eyes, nodded and dropped the dead man by a tree, propping him up quickly before they continued running. It hurt Maria's heart to have to leave the dead out in the open for whatever jungle predators were out there, but right now, it was the best they could do for them.

"Mark that as sixteen," She then mumbled over the radio. The groups made it to the checkpoint, where the mixed force spread out ammo amidst the troops. She ran over and picked up a few new magazines from the back of a Saddleback MRAP, slamming them into her rig and looking at the Colonel as he walked up to them. She told him, "Featherheads are rolling in hard. You got a map of the advance?"

"I do," He replied, pulling out a holoprojector and tossing it on a folding table in the middle of the makeshift camp. The map itself appeared, a topographical and three-dimensional display of the general area they were operating in. With a flick of a switch, it showed the three Turian axes of advance and the Army behind them. He told her, "Bastards really started moving fast. Defoliators, tanks with flamethrowers and mine-clearing flails, are punching clean through the thicket. 53rd's already met tanks in the flood basin crop fields as per reports from the Major leading them."

"Great," Maria sighed deeply, wiped the sweat and muck off her brow, then turned to fully face the table. She asked, "Any way we can slow down their advance by more than an hour? Because harassment campaigns are all fun and games, but we've been at it for three days and barely put a dent into their forces..." only to pause as she noticed and blinked. Tracing a path from the Turians' line of advance to the other side of the Continent, where a massive sea split it in two and left only a small isthmus to cross through.

The Colonel nodded, "It's a Race to the Sea... They're trying to split our troops in half, pin one group against the mountains and another against the flood basin, out in the open... Pincer us and kill us that way," and his face was grim. He told her, "We're a few thousand strong. The birds brought multiple times our numbers per reports of the forces trying to pacify NoWarStal and the rest of the city..."

"Fuck..." Maria sighed deeply, then leaned against the table. She pondered the choices they had, her eyes scanning the battlefields, both future and past. They hadn't missed anything major along the road to here, but the few outposts they managed to find where Army troops still were had been evacuated. There was a concerted effort to organize a defensive line, but the Turians were running some real Deep Battle doctrines, courtesy of their General. There was never any time to set up proper defenses...

She blinked, touched the haptic interface of the map and panned over toward the mountains. Right, that was a good natural barrier, but... She looked over the topographical display of a certain area. A drying riverbed leading up to... She pulled the map right and blinked, then smirked. A hydroelectric dam with a man-made reservoir. She pointed at it and said, "The Adams River Dam..."

"What?" The Colonel blinked, confused.

The woman rolled her eyes, then ran a blue line with her finger down the path the remnants of the river were travelling through. She said, "The Adams River, named for the guy who discovered this planet, was the largest river running on this continent 'till Colonial Command dammed it up to provide power for New Warsaw while we had the Fusion generators set up nearby the city..."

"I'm following so far, sarge..." The man replied, scratching his chin. He had a feeling...

"The River would've been a perfect natural barrier that could halt the Turian Army's advance, sir," She offered, then pointed at the river basin and said, "But it's barely a tiny creek now due to the reservoir holding up multiple thousands of cubic kilometers of water..." only to sigh deeply. She knew what they had to do, "It can still be that... And, hell, we might even thin the Featherheads' numbers."

The Colonel paused, his mind registering just what, exactly, his Sergeant was telling him. He swallowed, then spoke, "Sergeant, are you suggesting to me that we blow up the fucking dam?"

"Only bet we have to hold the line, sir. We cross all remaining forces past the river's original area, maybe even a kilometer behind the line, by fording the creek as it is now," She told him, utilizing the interface to zoom in on the thick river 'valley' that had been dug by the massive, then pulled over to the Flood plains and Delta of the River, noting that there were still tributaries along the way being used as cover by various units. She continued, "We don't have the armor to hold the full weight of the Turians' advance... We will be split in two and systematically destroyed."

"And if we do this we'll have to leave units in the rearguard to defend while the Engineers set up the charges and close the valves to make sure there's enough pressure for..." The Colonel replied, his voice grave, "You're asking that I leave behind good men and women to do this, Maria... Good men and women we could use in the fight, to set up some sort of defense."

"I'm not just asking, sir..." She replied, then looked over to her daughter as she and her newly-made core of young friends talked with one-another. With her heart heavy, she looked at the Colonel and said, "I'm staying behind. I'll be the rearguard for our unit, sir. Two platoons of Militia and one tank is all I need and we'll keep the rat bastards at bay until everyone's crossed on our side."

"Fuck no, Maria!" The Colonel replied, slamming his hand into the table, "Are you suicidal!?" and he saw several eyes on them. He leaned forward and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her toward her, "Your daughter and husband need you here. He's probably in some Turian POW camp. I don't want to be the one to give him the news his wife died in the line of duty."

"Do you have a better option, Jack?" She asked, a smile of acceptance on her face, "The few Army units you have are the experienced core of this resistance. You'll need them to set up a front line. Cross at the shallowest point in the riverbed and leave me and my Militia to guard the place. We have to stop this... Or there won't be a planetary force left to challenge the Turians by the time any reinforcements from home arrive. If they arrive."

The man sighed, "D'you think they won't make it?"

"We're a tiny colony. Barely two years old," She shrugged, "I don't know if the Admiral would even risk it. Khar'shan's only recently been pacified, far as I know..."

"Still..." He crossed his arms to his chest, "Sergeant, you're asking me to let you die..."

"My family has been fighting and dying since before we came from our home Galaxy, sir. Miridem, New Jerusalem, Reach... Fuck, I might have had a branch that fought on Earth during her last days," She told him, her face grim, but showing her determination, "I'm not going to dishonor them by just tucking my tail between my legs and surrendering the moment we get encircled. I want us to have a fighting chance against these flightless fuckers... And that means the core of the Army needs to stay alive. Which means the Militia has to pick up the slack."

The two looked at Carla, who was smiling and laughing with the girls and boys of her scout group, then the Colonel furrowed his brows and sighed. Swearing under his breath, he said, "I'll tell the other officers. Tell them to have their own crossings defended... Tell them the risks. This is gonna flood everything. We'll lose our crops and..." he scoffed, then laughed darkly, "It's gonna be one hell of a public works project going down the literal drain..."

"We'll rebuild, sir. We will," She smiled, "We have one hell of a next generation to pick up after us."

"Damn shame we're gonna leave them one hell of a natural disaster as a mess," The man sighed deeply, pinching the bow of his nose, "I can't talk you out of this, can I?"

"No," She shook her head, "I want my daughter not to have to live under the bootheels of an alien occupation, or fearing destruction. We'll make our last stand on the River, sir... You just retake this goddamn colony, alright?" and she extended her hand. He looked at the hand, gripped it, then shook it. He hated having to make the same kind of choices their ancestry made two centuries ago, but this was to be Humanity's and the Quarians' fate.

He radioed, "All command elements and troops, mount up. Prepare a radio transmission package to all allied units operating in the AO, Priority Crimson, encryption scheme Oxcart," and retrieved the holoprojector map. It shut down and he threw it into one of his pockets. He looked at Maria and told her, "It's gonna be a few days' trek and fighting to delay the enemy, still..."

"We'll make it work, sir," She smiled and saluted, then ran to grab a seat on the truck her daughter was on. She wouldn't tell her a damn thing. No point. It was better to just spend time with her, teach her what she needed to know. The Graysons were scientists and soldiers, like the Zorahs, she thought to herself with a small smile. She knew that Carla and Rael would make her proud.

She'd never see her grandkids, though...

New Warsaw

Occupied sectors

Vakarian had decided to take another trip down to the planet, to that quaint little pub that Fedorian had recommended to him. When he'd arrived in the elevator, he found the square had been cleaned of debris, with the only sign of the military occupation being the anti-air batteries set up by the Turian military, plus the tents and various other military prefabs.

Walking past Turian infantry and the local civilians, many of whom glared at them from the sidelines, their faces impassive even as they returned to a somewhat strange business-as-usual, the Admiral sighed deeply. These people didn't understand that the Turian Military would hopefully not be here long and that the League would cease hostilities and come to the negotiation table.

A small colony was projected to not have been worth the effort in manpower and equipment to retake for what seemed to be a spacefaring nation that was barely built up in the past few decades. He dreaded what kind of wars these folks must've gone through during the early days of their unification if they were anything like the Turian Hierarchy was. And from the Citizen Service, Militias still fighting them across parts of town and all, he wouldn't put it past them.

Entering the pub, the man walked over to the counter, where a Quarian bartender was providing drinks to his patrons. He looked over at the Turian and wore an impassive expression. With a hint of passive-aggressiveness in his voice, he asked, "What can I get one of our occupiers?" as all the eyes in the pub seemed to momentarily transfix on him and his escorts.

He cleared his throat, then said, "Just a Turian beer..."

The Bartender nodded, pulled out the bottle of dextro-friendly alcohol and uncapped it rather aggressively, before turning back to servicing other customers. Yeah, he felt real welcome here, to the point he utilized his omni-tool to secretly scan for possible poisons in the alcohol bottle. Thankful he found nothing, he took a first sip while his aide-de-camp brought him tablets full of reports.

He sighed and lifted the first one, starting to read through it. He had to be thankful the place remained relatively untouched, save for a couple bullet holes in the walls and a broken window that had been patched up with a wooden plank. The basic gist of the reports was that the Flotilla was still holding position while Fedorian's troops were on-schedule to divide and conquer the enemy's forces, if with a little issue regarding the enemy's own stubborn resistance and ambushes.

He heard a Volus's breathing as the fatbodied folk in enviro-suits waded in and handed a series of reports on supply acquisition to him as well. The Quarian bartender quipped, "Lotta work for you..." as he cleaned a glass. The Turian hummed, then sighed and sipped from his beer again. Best to wait 'till he was sober, he thought. No point in doing reports and req forms while drunk. The Quarian, however, looked over as footsteps filled the room, then said, "Oh, Viktoria! You made it!" with a ton of happiness in his voice.

A sultry female voice with a heavy, but familiarly Quarian accent spoke, "Come rain or snow, come night or day," before humming and pausing, "Oh. I see we have a Featherhead as a guest," which caused the Turian to turn around and face what... Well, Vakarian was not one to usually be attracted to other species entirely, but there was something here that just hit him like a hammer. Maybe it was the beer.

Or, maybe, it was the red-haired girl with full lips, green eyes and a beautiful, tight dress. She crossed her arms to her chest, stating, "Hello there, comrade. Don't suppose you came here to hear me sing, eh?"

"I-uh..." Vakarian could not exactly find words for the moment. He cleared his throat and said, "I mostly came to get a drink. Didn't expect there'd be a show on, though..."

She shrugged and chuckled, "Well, welcome to the Lucky Fox. I'm Mariya Oktiyabrskaya. Call me Mari," then extended her hand. The Turian shook it, a bit stunned, before the girl winked at him and said, "Hope you enjoy the song. It's a bit of a dedicated one in my great grandfather's home language," while she and her band walked over to a small stage in the back of the room.

The strange alien instruments soon started playing. Strings and drums were easily recognizable, but the keyboard with what looked to be hydraulic systems in it was not. It played a surprisingly smooth, if lightly irritating tune that matched very well to the other instruments. Mariya spoke into the Microphone, "Welcome to family night once more, ladies and gentlemen. Here's to our new guests, who'll hopefully stay only guests on our planet, and to our people..." And she began, "Kogda my byli na voyne... Kogda my byli na voyne, tam kazhdyy dumal o svoyey lyubimoy ili o zhene..."

The locale cheered, smiles spreading across the room while the Admiral stared at the woman, slightly wide-eyed, enamored by the incredibly beautiful voice and smooth, calm singing as she gently danced to the tune. He looked over to the Bartender and asked, "What song even is this...?" while the woman, her band and even some of the patrons got into singing it.

"'When We Were at War'," The Bartender replied, grinning, "Fairly fitting."

Rannoch, Fort Keyes

Maneuver warfare played out on a holoscreen in front of Rael and the other members present. UNSC Armored Battalions engaged distant alien figures in battle, plasma beams lancing through the air, bolts striking, tanks and infantry replying. In the sky above the forces fighting on the planet, alien warships, shaped like sea monsters from ancient tales, hovered and deployed troops.

Axes of the UNSC's advance, the pincer maneuvers being performed and the close-quarters combat played out with footage interspersed from Marines and Aviation fighting in the general AO. The UNSC Military teacher spoke, "The Battle of Actium was a pivotal moment in human history. It was where Colonel Mentieth's tactical genius helped with the Fifty-Third's advance into the Covenant's lines and secured them the greatest early ground victory up to that point. His tactics of mobile warfare are drawn from even earlier, six centuries in the past, when the great tank battles of the Second World War were fought through the overwhelming fire superiority of artillery and airpower, combined with heavy-weight thrusts with armor. The truest form of Combined Arms."

The woman continued, "The invention of the tank in the First World War and its subsequent developments during the interwar years and World War 2 were as pivotal a moment as the invention of the conical bullet in the 19th century, or FTL travel in the 23rd, for modern wars," and she walked over to the other side of the class, "And now, with the invention of the Highlander, the basis for all future HACS programs, there is a new stepping stone. There is no written book of tactics on how to use the suit. There is no known stratagem to counter it yet outside of other Suits."

"Colonel Raf'Zorah here was the first and only being so far to ever utilize these armored suits in battle," She motioned to Raf, who was sat to the side, hands behind his back, "He started writing the book you young ones are going to be stuffing full of new information. You will be developing the tactics of this new arm of mobile warfare as you go. Remember that there are no mistakes, only learning experiences."

"Note that I've only fought Batarians so far," The man added through his own microphone. He smirked and said, "Rather subpar military to test a new weapons system on, wouldn't you kids say?" and that got a few laughs out of the people around. The teacher nodded to Raf to take the stand, smiling. He continued, "I have learned quite a few things from this thing, though. Flying it into battle and all..."

"It's going to be like your second skin. Your second body," He told them, now dead serious as he looked around the room. He locked eyes with his son, watching him perk up for a moment, then continued, "It will move with you, like nothing else has before. The only thing I can compare it to is probably the descriptions of how our secretive Spartans operate in their MJOLNIRs. You will be your suit and your suit will be you."

He took a deep breath, sighed, then continued, "It's for this reason that you will all be undergoing a surgery to implant specialized Neural Laces," and he turned about, lifting the hair off his neck to show the attached foreign body, a tube built into his brain stem. Gasps echoed across the room as he turned around and said, "Relax. They're about as bad as the newest Neural Laces. That is to say, slight itching during the first week."

A few more laughs, nervous ones, filled the room. He continued, "However, they will allow you unprecedented connection to the suit's capabilities. A normal, unmodified Human or Quarian can operate the suit without these, obviously, but it will feel more like a piece of equipment rather than what I have been describing. Trust me when I say it's... A strangely magical experience."

Rael raised his hand and Raf nodded at him to go on. The boy asked, "Will we be able to operate at peak efficiency with them? And are the surgeries reversible?"

"Yes and yes," Raf nodded, "If you wash out of this program, you can go back to a normal Army Neural Lace, but you kids are already a week in out of the whole month," and he let out a light scoff, remembering that they had only a whole month to get them acclimated, before the operation to retake New Warsaw would begin. He continued, "So I doubt you wanna give up."

Rael nodded, "Thanks..." then quietened down.

Raf, to his credit, let out a deep sigh as he saw the nervous people ahead of him. He told them, "Look... I know this is scary. Being the ones to pioneer new equipment, regardless of its uses, is a terrifying thing. Being afraid is normal. What I don't want that fear to do is stop you from thinking, acting and reacting. We still have time to get you all ready... And you will be ready. Trust me. I can see it in all of you. You are brilliant young minds, strong-willed and driven. You have the best research base and equipment available to you and the best teachers," before motioning at the rest of the team present, "And you have my pure, unconditional belief that you will all make it."

He saw them perk up, smiled and said, "... So, use that fear. Shape it and mold it into the courage you need. Courage is not the absence of fear, after all, but acting against what it is you're afraid of, regardless of said fear," before locking eyes with his son again, "God knows, you kids have it in you. So go out there and make us all proud! Surgeries commence in six hours! Combat classes in twelve! Soldiers of the First Mechanoid Regiment, DO YOU WANNA LIVE FOREVER!?"

"OORAH!" They cheered, standing to their feet. Rael himself smiled proudly. He'd get to Carla and her family. Get them home before long. Then, they'd win the war, get a nice plot of land on Rannoch and settle down, have a few kids and just enjoy living their lives. Forget the damn War for good.