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“If its nature is of human origin, it will fail. But if it comes from God…It cannot be defeated”

Kudaarn Drop


Chapter 1: The Drop
The Sajuuk and Makaan floated above the Tiidani world, the Marine detachment onboard filing into their individual drop pods to be jettisoned to the surface, Master Sergeant Nylund among them. He strode into the pod and secured himself with the belt.
“Division 1,” a voice came over the intercom, then paused, ”Drop” The artificial gravity was lost as the pod fell from the flagship into the planet’s gravity well. Looking to his flanks, he could barely make out thousands of other pods streaking to the surface of the Tiidani planet for their assault. Re-entry was, as always, difficult. Flames licked at the hull of the pod and internal temperature slowly rose. The gray hull turned to a molten red as it was thrown closer still toward the planets surface, rumbling and shaking the whole way. Once the shaking mostly stopped, the altimeter read 43.5 thousand feet. At this exact point, a division’s worth or drop pods activated their personal cloaking devices and thermal signature screens, producing what appeared to be a massive glitch in the Tiidani radar network.
“Funny, ain’t it?” Gunnery Sergeant Arzt said through cross-com on the drop pod.
Nylund depressed the button on his seat and spoke to the air,
“What’s funny, Arzt?” He said, looking to his right, where the gunny’s drop pod was, streaking across the sky somewhere. He felt a piece of his uniform slip and pushed the olive nano-fiber fatigues back to where they should be. He checked his pants, which were fine, and slammed his sleek black combat boots against the pod’s bulkhead, making sure all of his clothes were secured. He then reached behind the pod’s seat and pulled out his olive combat vest and slid that on, fastened it, and sighed as the Kevlar weave constricted him. In all this, he noticed that Arzt hadn’t replied. He was still holding down the transmission button. He shook his head in embarrassment and let go just in time to hear the dull, monotonous voice again.
“Division 2…Drop” The guy must have been on FLEETCOM. The whole HPMC (Hiigaran Planetary Marine Corps) could hear him.
“The calm during these drops, right before we make surface contact and the clusterf**k begins, it’s the most at peace you can ever be.” Nylund shared these feelings sometimes; the thought of imminent death did wonders to calm a grizzled veteran’s soul.
Altimeters flashed, warning lights blazed red, and manual controls rose from the smooth panels. Soldiers grabbed the flight control yokes and guided the maneuverable pods into tight formations; squads banded together and angled the craft toward their designated drop zones. Nylund formed up with the rest of Sigma Squad and pointed the pods directly toward a glass-ceiling building, probably a museum or greenhouse. With only 7,000 feet between him and the ground, he activated his reverse thrusters and drag flaps. The drop pods speed decreased dramatically and Nylund was thrown forward by the sudden drop in speed. At 100 feet, the drag flaps peeled off and the pods crashed through the flimsy glass ceiling covering the building. Large panes of glass shattered into millions of tiny shards by seemingly nothing at all to the now scared civilians.
“Sigma squad has made surface contact, waiting on your mark.” Nylund spoke into the COM again.
“Roger that, Sigma. Engage. Weapons are free.” Nylund’s A.I., Deja relayed to him.
“Sigma squad, going out!” Nylund said on FLEETCOM before depressing the release button on the control console. The door was thrown off the pod and Nylund stepped out with his Diverian MK.2 Assault Rifle at his shoulder, the safety off. Civilians scattered and air raid sirens began to go off. The noises were soon squelched, however, as Theta squad, their espionage agents, sabotaged the power grids. Lights everywhere went out, until only the twilight sun illuminated the streets, along with staccatos of gunfire from building-to building firefights.
Nylund had the men form up, and they slinked down the streets, keeping close to the walls before converging on a building where radio chatter indicated some enemy militia had set up a light machine-gun. Nylund nodded toward Corporal Veritas, who aimed a breaching shotgun at the panel locking mechanism. With a dull thud from the 8-guage, the panel was fried and the doors slid open. The squad filed inside, covering flanks and clearing rooms as Nylund and Veritas moved upward. The two soldiers slid fiber wire out of their thigh holster compartments and pulled the nylon cables tight, wrapping ends around their hands. The soldiers came up behind the gunner and pulled the taught ropes around both his neck and his reloader’s. When Nylund no longer felt a pulse and the gunner’s body stopped flailing, he set the body down and motioned to move forward through the next building through a small walkway on the second floor. The soldiers took out their rifles and crouched down, moving onto the walkway and chancing a look out the small windows, down onto the streets where small firefights were going on, usually ending in the death of a few Tidaani. Nylund stopped for a second and clicked off the all clear using the status light, flashing it three times on his men’s HUDs(Heads Up Display). There was a clicking of boots as the men filed up the stairs and re-cleared the rooms Nylund and Veritas had already gone through before moving behind the two men and tapping them on the shoulder.
“We’re moving on this building, taking out the recoilless rifles so our LRVs(Light Reconnaissance Vehicles) can get through, and we can pound city hall.” The men nodded. “The LRVs can give us a ride toward city hall, but all the fire is going to be concentrated on us. The men acknowledged what he said and Nylund stood upright.
“Move” Nylund instructed, and the men surged forward into the next room. Small rifle bursts rang out some gurgling sounds as a Tidaani was struck in the neck and fell to the ground with a pool of blood gathering around his body. The men kept moving and a green light burned on his display. He nodded toward Veritas and the two men continued to move as radio chatter showed good progress.
“Sir, we’re at the guns, just tell us when.” As the private reported in, their IFF tags appeared on his HUD and he looked to see just how far away they were. “Sigma…” a voice came through on the radio, “Be –vised….-or….-vicinity” the garbled transmission informed him.
“What?” he asked?
“SIGMA, BE ADVISED, ARMORED VEHICLE IN YOUR VICINITY!” Just then, a large rumble rang out, a wall collapsed, and screams were heard over the COMs. Three of his squad’s tags went dark, and biometric meters flat lined. One man’s signal disappeared entirely. Nylund swore before regaining his cool. He pulled up a roster to see who had the MPAR in the squad.
“Jenkins,” Nylund said into the COM. “Hit that tank.”
“Roger that.” A PFC said before his tag flashed from blue to amber, signaling an imminent fire.
“Missile Away.” The PFC informed Nylund. A look out the windows and he saw an arc of gray smoke fly toward the tank, then, in a fraction of an instant, there was no more turret. All movement in the armor stopped, and Jenkins reported in.
“Sir, armor has been neutralized.” Nylund again pulled up his roster and checked off his three dead men: Garland, McCullis, and Braeburn.
“Roger that, Jenkins. Gather up the dead and move them to our drop zone with a signal beacon and deploy a stealth field around them”
“Can do, sir” There was a grunt as he and a couple other men hefted the corpses, then walked by Nylund as they moved toward the greenhouse they had landed in. Nylund checked how many people he still had: four men, a fire team. Three dead and three protecting the dead. As Veritas and Nylund moved toward the recoilless rifles, Nylund unwound a piece of det-cord from around his forearm and applied a coating of foam explosives around it, for that extra little bit. He took the cord, wrapped it around the barrel and loading mechanism of the rifle, and had his squad go back into the street, jumping down the small pile of rubble leftover from when the Tidaani knocked down the wall of a building to get a clear shot with the gun. The men dropped into the streets and made sure there were no Tidaani around as Nylund attached the detonator and dropped into the street as well.
“Fire in the hole.” He said as he flipped up the safety cover of the detonator and depressed the red button. There was a small thump and the explosives went off, and the rifle was no more than a memory.
“Wolfbite, you’re free to bring in the buggies.” Nylund informed the other platoon, who was in charge of the safe transport of the Hiigaran ground assets.
“Roger that, Sigma, Wolfbite inbound on your position.” The COM channel was switched off and Nylund’s team waited for both the Lynx buggies, and some sign of Tidaani reinforcements. Something just was not right about the miniscule troop concentration in the city. There was a clicking of keys as Veritas input their sitrep (situation report) and the Lynx rolled into sight toward the buildings.
There was a screeching of tires as the buggies rolled to a halt and small troop compartments opened up on the sides, two men to each compartment.
“Where’s your complement, Sigma?” asked a Lynx driver as Nylund walked by the driver’s seat of the buggy.
“Guarding the dead,” Nylund quickly replied as he climbed into the bay next to Veritas and the hatch, which silently slid itself shut. The buggy then lurched forward as it continued in the blitz on city hall.
Gunfire was hushed behind the metal plating and the buggy’s loud engine drowned out all thought. Nylund looked to Veritas, who kept a stone stare at the door. Nylund respected the man’s privacy, so he just referred to the small console on his forearm, where the A.I Deja was contained.
“Deja, pull up a map, please.” Nylund said to the computer.
“Certainly,” she said, a small hologram appeared of her and the small space glowed a cool emerald with the A.I’s body. She pulled up the global map, data streams of crimson ran through her body as she went through the frustrating authorized channels. Eventually, though, a holographic map of the city appeared in front of him. Deja also took care to show him both their current position as well as the location of city hall.
Nylund smirked just as the first shell hit.












Chapter 2: Boo-Koo Hostiles

The 120mm artillery shells pummeled the streets and Nylund swore as the buggy shook violently for the 12th time. He looked over to Veritas who’s eyes were plastered open.
“Constant beat of shells is anything but soothing, sir.” Veritas said as the buggy rolled to a halt.
“City hall, Nylund. GO!” The driver yelled into the radio as the compartments slid open to reveal a shattered city, buildings riddled with holes and artillery shaking buildings apart. Destroyed Beauty, some might say.
Nylund stepped out of the Lynx as it began rolling away to another hotspot in the city, and his fireteam bypassed the obvious command, took positions on the edges of the street, and began moving toward city hall, Nylund leading the way. He peeked out of his cover, currently a wall, and saw the advancing Tiidani Battalion, who broke fire discipline to hit the soldier. He blinked as a reflex as each bullet cracked on the wall of zinged past his head, every time they opened reminded him he was still alive. Nylund sank back into cover and primed a round into the Diverian, a satisfying click sounded as the round fed into the chamber. Keeping his index finger extended across the trigger guard, he melted into the building, semi-active camouflage on his suit diverted to match the eggshell color of the wall and he peeked out of his new vantage point. He took another length of det chord from around his forearm. He had drawn another bit from his pack. He tapped Veritas for a second can of C-12 and gripped the small can. He sprayed the cord and attached the explosives which began to harden to a shell around the cord, and Nylund inserted a detonator just before it became rock solid. He tossed out the cord and the advancing men stopped to eye the anomaly. A soldier grabbed it as per orders and slid it into his rigging before bringing it back to his C.O. to be inspected. Nylund counted his blessings that these guys knew nothing about the Hiigaran technology, and that they’re stupid enough to pick up a foreign object that randomly flew into their midst. As the device switched hands to the C.O. Nylund flipped the switch and pressed the red button again, a large, un-muffled blast and a spray of blood were the only evidence that Nylund could see of the blast. As the men were thrown into disarray, Nylund moved through the buildings to inspect his handiwork. The C-12 had coupled for a perfect explosion with the det cord, the C.O and the LAV next to him were nothing more than a bad memory, and quite a few men were also caught in the blast, men fired at non-existent shadows and Nylund chuckled a bit over COMs. For another bit of fun, he signaled for the men to apply their silencers. The squad all took the long metal tubes from their rigs and spun them onto the threading on the Diverian’s barrel, Nylund doing the same.
“Single shots only, go for center mass. Fire at will.” As he gave the order, there were a few puffs of smoke and an equal amount of puffs of blood as more men fell and more Tidaani fired in the confusion.
“Reloading,” Veritas said as he hit his mag release, and a magazine fell from the Diverian, making a clattering sound as it hit the concrete, but that wasn’t audible over the huge amount of gunfire. He slid another magazine into the well and pulled back the receiver, priming a new round into the rifle. The Corporal then returned to firing into the crowd of Tidaani as a few officers tried to regain cohesion in their troops, but were not doing such a good job at it.
“Come on,” Nylund said, tapping Veritas’s shoulder and moving farther away from the soldiers.
“Command, this is Sigma, I have enemy readings, and Deja is relaying them to you now.” Blue data streams passed over his forearm’s datapad as Deja informed the ground force advisor the information.
“Data received, thanks Nylund.” The advisor said into the COMs as he uploaded the information to the entirety of the shock troops on the ground.
“Sigma, this is Omikron team, we’ve hooked up with Delta, Beta, and Alpha, heading your way.” Arzt’s voice buzzed over the COMs.
“Roger that, Omikron, be advised, we are currently in the blown-out building due north-east of the Tidaani troop garrison.” Nylund answered into his headset as another artillery shell screamed through the air and collided with a residential complex, the first of a new barrage. Nylund’s teeth ground together as a shell hit a nearby street, stripping the concrete off the ground as it hit, leaving only a smoldering crater.
“HQ, this is Antares. Where do you want us deployed?” A Voice came over the radio, but he heard Deja giggle. She had tapped into a single beam COM.
“Antares, we need you to land near Sigma’s location, be advised, Sigma cannot know of your nature, much less your presence.” Nylund’s face took a look of surprise.
“Roger that, HQ. Launching pod.” The COM line cut out and there was a loud screaming sound as large, oblong, objects crashed into a nearby building, going too fast for any person to survive without blacking out and dying of internal bleeding, not to mention being crushed upon impact. There were some hissing sounds and he saw figures moving in the shadows, and at huge speeds, blue glowing lifeless eyes leaving trails against the dark of the building.

Chief Petty Officer Jericho Antares made landfall in Kudaarn at terminal velocity, and bruised his leg a bit. The safety cover on his drop pod launched itself off and he climbed out, activating his energy shield and bringing his Heads-Up Display (HUD) up, as the eyes on his armor glowed blue. He looked down the street, augmented eyes making his vision pristine, and it was filled with Tiidani troops.
“Hayter, Slavik, S’jet. Let’s move out, we’ve got our work cut out for us.” He ran through the building as he took his Discodia rifle off his back, flipping off the safety as he continued his advance. As he ran, he saw a single pair of eyes staring back at him: Sigma’s CO. He put aside the gaze and tore through a brick wall, right into the bulk of the Tiidani troops. He took out his knife off his lower back and severed one man’s spine with it, flowing right into another’s neck, as Hayter punched another soldier in the face, shattering the bones on contact. He quickly re-secured his rifle on his back and continued with the blade, driving it into another soldier’s forehead, the blade’s ultra-high frequency scrambled the man’s brains as he pulled the blade back out, kicking another man in the small of his back, snapping his spine. Surprisingly, the Tiidani had not even started to return fire yet. Slavik grabbed a private’s chin and bisected it from the rest of his body as the repetitive blast of S’jet’s shotgun brutally tore men apart. Jericho was almost stunned when a bullet finally struck his shield, harmlessly bounced off, and Jericho had an actual combatant now. He took his sidearm from its holster and pulled the trigger three times, the slide bounced back and forth as the bullets impacted on the enemy’s chest and punctured his heart in three different places, causing the unfortunate b*****d to crumple to the ground, obviously dead.

Tiidani screams filled the air, sending chills up Nylund’s spine, those men were being torn apart, from the sounds of things, He moved toward the fight, his men close behind, and looked around the corner to see four men, each around seven feet tall, ripping apart the contingent. He saw no identification, for Hiigara or the Tiidani, but he assumed they were friendly, judging by who they were killing, a squadmate, however, didn’t think so, he fired a shot at one of the men, who simply pulled out his pistol and shot 3 times, each bullet made impact and the corporal fell to the ground. Nylund swore and began firing into the crowd, trying to make the current fight end more quickly, but there were too many Tiidani.
“Winged Moon.” Slavik yelled over the COMs, spamming the vicinity, and one of the solders stopped and looked at him, eyes piercing into him, blue and lifeless. The thing holstered its pistol and charged his team, quickly knocking all four unconscious with speed Nylund had never seen before. His face displayed a look of shock as he fell to the ground and blacked out.

Antares administered the last of the drugs to the knocked out Hiigaran regulars, hoping they wouldn’t remember them as they came to.
“Sentinel,” Slavik said as he walked into the small room.
“Ooh-Rah” Antares replied to acknowledge the other soldier entering the room, waving over his back to the soldier.
“Whaddya think about these guys?” Slavik asked, nudging Veritas with his boot, then nudging the prone Nylund.
“They’ll be out of the war—and our hair—for a while, but there’s always a chance. I’m going to wave down Super 61 for a medivac, and then we can continue the mission.” Antares replied as he stood up and walked out of the room with Slavik behind him. S’jet looked up and nudged Hayter, who was cleaning his Tarsok sniper rifle. Hayter glared at S’jet before oiling the slide one last time and re-assembling the rifle. He then looked up to Antares with his rifle sitting across his lap.
“We’re going to continue as planned, warfare in the city until command fins anything else to give to us. Remember, we’re restricted on ammo so exploit everything you can, only use your rifle on what you need to. This goes especially for you, S’jet.”
“Hey, I still have 64 shells.” S’jet replied, completely disregarding the fact that the Sentinels were meant to operate planetside for as much as a week after the assault, far behind enemy lines.
“Whatever, man.” Antares said before taking the frequency blade from its sheath and poking his head from the door of the building.
“Sergeant Antares, command requests that you disable the enemy artillery, shall I comply?” Antares’s onboard A.I. Eva asked him.
“Tell them to send us the SPYSAT uplink and we’ll be on our way.” As he finished his sentence, a topographical 3-D map of the city appeared in the corner of his HUD, with an orange circle near a parking garage.
“Command, this is Antares, we’re currently inbound on the artillery position, keep us informed.” Antares said as he keyed off his COM and began on his way, not bothering to stay in the shadows. He found a Tiidani soldier and dropped him with a round from his rifle.
“Hi, Jericho,” a female voice came through the COMs. He remembered her from training, a constant itch he could never scratch.
“Kathryn. Where is your squad?” He keyed the COM system and entered a single beam transmission.
“I mis-dropped. Can I form up with you?” She asked, knowing Jericho would have to comply.
“Roger that, sending our co-ordinates.” Jericho replied with a sigh before closing the channel and holding up a fist. The men behind him immediately halted and flushed with a nearby building. After a few minutes, there was a clattering of heavy boots and another sentinel rounded the corner. Jericho chuckled seeing Kathryn again. She was only a scant 6 feet tall, appearing diminutive against her 7 foot brethren.
“Just form up behind me, okay?” Jericho asked, not wanting to get into a conversation with her. “And call me Antares” He added, hating his first name, along with its shortened version.
“Yes sir.” Kathryn said in her usual joking tone before the line of men shifted to allow her room, and Antares waved them all forward, passing by a convenience store, which looked quite peculiar to S’jet.
“Sir?” S’jet said uneasily as he continued to scrutinize the store. He suddenly realized what was so wrong about it.
“What is it, S’jet?” Antares asked, wanting to take out the artillery that has been bombarding them for the past hour.
“TANK!” S’jet yelled as the vehicle’s engine kicked to life and it plowed out of the convenience store, quickly firing a shot into the building, missing Antares by a few feet. The sheer speed, however, threw him to the ground and a gunner opened the hatch and pulled back the charging lever on the mounted .50 Cal. To Antares’s relief though, Hayter knew what to do and the marksman had disappeared from the fray. The other four sentinels rushed in close to the tank and just began punching the tank’s armor, hoping to distract it. Slavik punched the barrel and dented it, throwing it out of whack and making it unable to fire. Antares, as he regained his balance, took his rifle, quickly aimed and put a round into the gunner’s carotid artery, causing blood to spray everywhere as the soldier dropped back down into the tank.
“Move, Antares.” Hayter said over the COM. The sentinels all bugged out and there were four loud shots from Hayter’s Tarsok. The rifle’s magnetically charged rounds made it a miniature railgun, and each round punctured through the armor and into soldiers inside, then through them and into the engine block. S’jet sighed, and Antares knew why: the man had new anti-tank ordinance, but was under special orders only to use it when absolutely needed. S’jet regretfully agreed to the terms set by HIGHCOM. Hayter, satisfied, came back down out of the building and laughed a bit as he inspected his handiwork up close. However, he quickly regained his composure and fell back into the formation, which had changed to offer more coverage. Antares and Slavik were on one side of the street, and the others where they started. The sentinels again kept moving and proceeded to the artillery site as night took over the city, and sentinel eyes turned from blue to green as night vision automatically kicked in.
After a few minutes of navigating the street and weaving between buildings, there was a flash of light as artillery fired and their vision polarized to compensate for the flash.
“Well, I guess we found the pieces, huh?” Antares whispered as he examined the ordinance he had taken off that one soldier, Nylund.
"Why can’t we get this stuff?!” He said as he examined the det-cord, his eyes glowing behind his helmet.
“This stuff’s been specially modified, won’t detonate unless an electrical charge of the exact frequency of the detonator reaches it. It’s beautiful!” Antares had almost completely forgotten about the matter of the artillery, until a nearby shell knocked him from his reverie. He took a strand of det-cord from the cylindrical compartment it was stored in and compacted it into a ball, and placed a detonator receiver on it as he snuck up close to one of the pieces and tossed the ball into the air, right into the piece’s barrel. Antares flipped the switch on the detonator and right before he pressed the button, the though crossed his mind that he may have put a bit too much explosives in there, he decided against it and pressed the button as the Tiidani fired another shell. Needless to say, there was a crater where the emplacement once was, and Antares snickered to himself as other soldiers came to investigate.
“Antares, this is Hayter. I’ve found a forward observer who’s been dialing our shock troops in all day.” It seems that Antares wasn’t the only one who had been busy.
“Do you really need permission to fire?” Antares replied as he took another strand of det-cord from his pack and began moving toward another artillery piece, even though it was completely vacated of men. Nevertheless, he threw the det-cord ball into the barrel and blew that one up too. He liked this demolition tactic, so much nicer than that time-consuming C-7 Plastique that the Sentinels were using.
“And I thought we were the only ones who got the good stuff.” Antares muttered as he took his Discodia and pumped a silenced round into a retreating Tiidani’s aorta, dropping him instantly. Antares placed the rifle back onto his back and took another string of det-cord and repeated the demolition ritual, another artillery piece burst into flames. A few hours, and yards of det-cord later, the artillery and any Tiidani in the immediate vicinity were wiped out, and Antares called in command.
“Command this is Antares” He said into the COMs as Hayter slipped from his vantage point and S’jet put a pistol round into a wounded Tiidani.
“Antares, this is General Tukai. I’ll be issuing orders directly to you for the duration of the operation, no matter how long it may be. Is that clear?” A grizzly voice burst through that static, almost making Antares jump.
“Of course, general. What can we do?” Antares replied as his team formed up and checked their armor systems, Hayter activating and de-activating his cloaking device until the armor refused the command. S’jet punched him in the arm and he chuckled and waited until his armor would accept the command again.
“This one is gonna take you to the city outskirts. There is a now heavily guarded Tiidani production plant that has been working double-time ever since we went planetside on Hiigara. We don’t know what they’re doing, but they’re pumping out tanks too quickly for us. Take that plant out with an orbital strike beacon. The Sajuuk’s Phased Ion Array Cannon will be more than enough to wipe it from the face of the planet.”
“Understood ,sir. Eva has relayed me the co-ordinates and we are on our way. Expect a transmission in the next two hours. Antares out.” He said as he cut the line and brought up the NAV point on the HUDs of his team. Hayter de-cloaked again and picked up his Tarsok as S’jet took his pistol’s barrel from the base of Hayter’s skull, no longer threatening to blow his head off. Slavik picked up his SAW and put it over his shoulder as they began walking toward the waypoint. Antares reached into his pack and cracked open a can of almost pure caffeine water, recharging his system to make sure his mind was clear during the assault. He downed the can in a matter of seconds and crushed it before dropping it into a garbage can they passed on the empty street.

Chapter 3: Peace For Peace’s Sake

Senator Ethan Ross strode into the congress hall in the city of Tarkim, Hiigara. The congress had just passed a resolution for trading agreements with Khay-Tar and the Marines had “jumped the gun” in their assault on Kudaarn, causing turmoil in the senate as to what the next course of action should be. Ross had strict orders from the president on what had to be done: Extract all Hiigaran ground assets and charge any who couldn’t be extracted with war crimes. Hiigara was on friendly terms with Khay-Tar, up until Tukai assaulted them. Though the good general was under order to do so, the Hiigaran government higher-ups have decided that they would charge every included soldier with something, try them, and put them in prison so that Khay -Tar would not mistake it as an act of war, which it was supposed to be. He felt like 1 against 1 million, however. The senate was completely for letting the men go free, hiding behind the ‘morale issues of imprisoning men who acted under order of the president’, but Ross knew what the president really had up his sleeve. He had just hoped that they could get out of there before they stirred up a hornet’s nest.
“We need to avoid the possibility of war and try these criminals, maybe even send in some men to help. Khay-Tar must not know what really happened!” Ross rose and stated during the meeting, and to his luck, a vast amount of Senators began to see his side of the argument. Some argued, but in the coming weeks, they were all silenced by black ops. The president was really moving boldly in this matter. Within a short time, senators against the trying of the men got the message and withdrew their views before the vote occurred. It wasn’t televised, there were no press. I never happened, but it was official: 3,000+ men would be charged with war crimes.

Nylund woke with a start inside a strangely unfamiliar building, a chunk of his memory missing. He forgot just where ‘here’ was. The point was, however, that he was being shot at, and he had to get out of there.
“Where’s the evac point?” Nylund yelled over the noise. He took a shot with his rifle at a man, and missed.
“About half a click back. We don’t even know if anyone else is left.” Veritas replied as a Hiigaran helicopter screamed over and dropped off a contingent of troops onto a building, who also began firing on Nylund.
“WE’RE HIIGARANS, HOLD FIRE!” He yelled as he waved his hands in vain. The men continued to fire, as if they didn’t hear him, or see the Hiigaran flag he waved. Something was odd, and for the first time, the thought crossed Nylund’s mind that he wouldn’t be leaving here alive. There was a crack, and the building started to collapse around him.
Kuudarn Museum oof Natural History, Khay Tar
CPO Antares Mission Clock 23.27 Hours

Antares methodically cleaned another piece of his jet-black armor. He had all of it laid out neatly in front of it. He felt naked in his nanofiber fatigues, but he liked the feeling. He felt vulnerable. The chest plate, elbow pads, bracers, gauntlets, back plate, thigh plates, knee pads, shin guards, his pack, power core, helmet, respirator, and goggles. All sitting, cleaned, on the ground of the museum they were in. He sighed and looked at his handiwork before placing all the armor back onto himself and activating the systems, a half-hour job, but worth it for the incoming assault. He checked all the functions, and he found one ha hadn’t used in a while, voice enhancement. It was an overused but mentally crippling tactic, all more to the thought that Sentinels were more God than human. He ticked on the enhancers as spoke into the cavernous entrance hall of the museum. The voice was cold and inhuman, like something that would tear you apart before even thinking to shake your hand. However, if you were marked an enemy of the sentinels, this was very true. Through all this silence, Antares was lost in thought, but was ripped back into reality as the COMs were flooded with emergency.
“City hall just got vaporized!” One voice said, the speaker filled with fear of what had just happened.
“We’re picking up numerous hyperspace signatures! The Tiidani fleet was on the far side of the planet. The Sajuuk and Makaan are pulling out to Hiigara. The Sajuuk will launch all heavy armor prematurely to the surface. Keep a look out for any incoming ordinance, their trajectories are wild.”
“General Tukai, how many men are you leaving planet side?” Jericho quickly keyed on his COM and asked over the private line.
“50 Sentinels on the ground, another 50 about to infiltrate enemy ships in orbit, and about 3,000 shock troops. As long as you can stay out of any high troop concentrations, you shouldn’t get incinerated from orbit.”
“How comforting. Antares out,” Jericho turned off his radio and heard a large crash as a Hiigaran tank hit the ground. The Sentinels were now stranded on a foreign planet with no supplies, an enemy fleet above them, and an unknown amount of enemies before them. They’ve had worse odds before.
“Kathryn, where are you? And what are you doing?” He said, looking toward the wildlife portion of the museum.
“Something YOU probably haven’t done in around a month or two,” she replied, seeming more irritable than usual.
“Get shot?” he asked, mocking her. He started to walk into the wildlife section, listening for any indication of where she was.
“No, idiot. I’m—GET OUT!” Antares had rounded a corner and found her bathing in a fountain.
“Hey, I did that before I left for this op. this armor just smells horrible,” Antares said as he smelled the shoulder of his armor. Even though it was clean, it smelled like a decomposing body. But he shrugged, it was kind of a given in his line of work. He apologized and stepped back into the main lobby, wondering why she had reacted the way she had. They had to do that together all the time in basic. He just shrugged and dis-assembled his rifle to clean that too. It was not like they had any time restraints anymore. They had gone guerilla.

Dr. Simon Metz examined all the Styrofoam cups littered about his cramped workspace, manila folders of military intel scattered everywhere. He leaned back and sighed. After 31 years of smoking even that was raspy. He brought up his word processor and opened up the file marked with highest classification from ONI (Office of Naval Intelligence) and simply typed in a passcode, he was in. He looked over the file, its name, the recruits, the process, everything down to the genetic modifications and armor. Operation Olympus, he remembered it well. He garnered a collection of teenagers, usually around 18, because they had stopped developing, that had been displaced by terrorist attacks, enemy invasions and occupations. Quite simply, he looked for children that the Hiigaran army had found alive fighting in some way against the aggressors. Many of their candidates were found with an enemy assault rifle in hand, fighting in a choke point. He ever so casually erased all their memories, and stuck them in test tubes, when the rose, he told them they were his, that he had made them. They were genetically modified for enhanced strength, agility, vision, hearing, and durability, thrown into thousands of training exercises and slapped in Hiigaran top of the line armor, which further enhanced reflexes, agility, and strength, so much so that any un-modified soldier would be killed when attempting to walk. And thus they were called Sentinels, guardians of Hiigara. Every Sentinel was divvied up into 4-man teams, usually named after a God or Goddess of Hiigara’s adapted mythology, which was based off a human religion situated from Greece, which died out some time ago. Hiigarans saw something in the tales and epics of the Gods and took it for their own. He pulled up Ares Team, they were on the TNV (Tiidani Naval Vessel) Longinus. Zeus team was on the Tiidani home world, stranded on the Tiidani home world, along with all the others. Metz was told this was a time of change, and that Hiigara needed all it could get to achieve this. Metz gave them his Sentinels. Apparently Hiigaran brass thought it would go over more smoothly than it did, however. Hell Divers were supposed to immediately go into hiding upon landing, however, and General Tukai jumped the gun and deployed just about every Sentinel he had, 80% of them, to be exact.
“What?! Why?!” He exclaimed as he scrolled through team names and brought up the red-flagged Poseidon Team, led by Sergeant Antares. The team leader suffered serious mental damage during a training exercise, serving to “unlock” a few lost memories, though he showed no evidence of remembering anything, and it seems that anything he saw appeared in a sudden vision, or a scrambled dream, but Metz still ordered him under surveillance. He didn’t want anything slipping up and ruining cohesiveness in the Sentinels, if one of them knew what he did, he was done for. But Tukai, in all his infinite knowledge, ordered him out of the brig and into the firefight.
“Can’t blame him though, Antares is easily one of your best squad leads, not to mention his extreme knack for human anatomy. He can pick apart all your major arteries in a second.” A deep male voice said. An A.I appeared on his desk, a nobleman from olden days clad in fur and silk atop a throne.
“Gatsby, I told you to shut up last week. Never said anything about opening your mouth back up since then, have I?” Metz replied, hating hearing the droning A.I speak. He always wanted a female A.I. they usually had something better to say, not to mention that they didn’t sound so full of themselves when they said it.
“Well, sir, I see no reason why you flagged one of your best men, is all.” Gatsby said in an unusual sheepish tone. All traces of his usual pompous attitude were erased from Metz’s latest outburst.
“We don’t know what makes these memories surface. The last thing I need is someone from the other teams, someone who is familiar, from the same area, seeing him and triggering an outburst of erased memories. It would cripple his combat effectiveness, endanger his team, and maybe even jeopardize the entirety of Operation Olympus!” Metz yelled. He had brought his ‘children’ this far and he wasn’t about to slip it all up. He needed to get Antares back. With that, he scrolled to another classified file: Hades Team. They were escapee and traitor killers. He felt that he would need them to apprehend Antares, who knew that if Hades team was on his tail, even if he surrendered he’d end up dead or in prison for one reason or the other. He selected team lead Ardchur and opened a private COM Link.
“I have a need for your ‘talents’.”

Jericho leaned against the museum wall, looking at the night sky. It was pockmarked with lights from the orbital scaffolding that had hyperspaced in from the far side of the moon. He heard boots click ad he quickly unholstered his pistol and brought it to bear in one swift move, only to see Kathryn’s smiling face down the sights.
“Clear night sky can do anyone some good, huh?” She said as she sat down near him.
“Yeah, makes me wonder what we did when we were kids.” He said as he looked back to the horizon.
“We never were kids, Dr. Metz made us, the first successful genome soldiers.” She reminded him.
“Oh, yeah.” Jericho said. He knows what she said was true, but why didn’t the military make a higher amount of soldiers, or use it to make veritable clones of great generals. It just always nagged at him. Sunrises and Sunsets, dreams, they all made him think about his meager 6 year existence. Kathryn got up and rested her chin on his head.
“So, Jerry. What’s the plan of action tomorrow?” She asked playfully. Jericho looked up to her and shrugged.
“Take some time to gather ourselves, just stay hidden in the museum I guess.” He shrugged and looked at a nearby exhibit of Neanderthals.
“That hardly sounds like you.” She said in a confused tone. He smirked before laying down.
“I know, that’s what I thought too. So let’s not do that. I guess we will just move through the city until we find something worth doing. Maybe even demo the factories.” He said as he took another look at the Neanderthals, then he looked down the opposite hallway and saw S’jet looking around for him. He looked again at the Neanderthals; one was hunched over, scratching itself. He looked again to S’jet and saw him in the exact same position, just scratching away. He scoffed before shooing Kathryn off and waving at S’jet, who nodded and walked over and leaned on the crumbling wall of the building.
“Why not link up with the other Sentinels? Coordinate one massive resistance?” S’jet asked, wanting to wage all out war in the middle of enemy territory.
“If every Sentinel in the area formed up into a large force, we’d be a prime target for the Tiidani ships in orbit, speaking of which, those ships are sending down wave after wave of infantry, tanks, LRVs, the whole thing. Don’t worry, you’ll get plenty of action on this op.” Antares said with a hint of annoyance in his voice. S’jet had an irritating tendency of jumping headlong into a situation without thinking anything through, though he admitted his more positive aspects outweighed it.
“Well if that’s the case, why is it that we only fought that Tiidani troop concentration for a grand total of five minutes?!”
“Hiigaran ground personnel saw us and I had to rectify that, and I couldn’t exactly do that In the middle of an engagement.” Antares quickly brushed off S’jet’s contempt and looked him in the eye. “I won’t have the existence of the Sentinels
be so clear among our own men. Imagine being gawked at wherever you go, to always be relied on by any ground troops in the area to do tasks that slow us down on the primary objective set by HIGHCOM.” Antares loved the secrecy of the Sentinels, though he realized that they would have to reveal themselves eventually. It was only a matter of time. Priority now was to secure a base of operations, most likely the museum, or some captured Tiidani stronghold, and launch guerilla strikes from there. Scare the Tiidani out of their pants and maybe claw back the initiative and clear the city out for a second landing force.
“I still think we’re acting like a bunch of wimps.” Slavik cut in, and S’jet nodded in agreement. Antares looked at the two men and slowly shook his head. Deep down, he agreed with them, but the C.O. on the surface wanted to do the most tactically sound things, which isn’t to run in guns blazing; even if you are a Sentinel. He just waved the two men off and pulled up a tac-map, plotting different enemy placements that were relayed to him before the flagships pulled out. The entire city was crawling with Tiidani by now, and they had seized all the ground assets the Sajuuk had launched.
“You know, the obvious thing to do is-’’ Deja began, but Jericho quickly cut her off.
“Take back or destroy Hiigaran ground assets to prevent our enemies from stealing our tech. However, the smarter course would simply be to destroy them. A Lynx or Ixchel would be too bulky to discreetly transport.”
“You sound like an a** when you say it.” Deja smugly said. Jericho smiled a bit and checked the internal clock of his suit. It was almost sunrise, so they would have to strike before the bugle call. Some called it cowardly to kill men while they slept, but Jericho simply thought of it as a way of evening the playing field, what with the odds around 1,000 to one.

Tiidani Heavy Cruiser Devotion, Low orbit around Khay-Tar
PO Kyubrz Mission Clock 00.40 Hours

Kyubrz rounded a corner and quickly brought his gun up, seeing no one, he signaled and his two teammates emerged, dragging the fourth, whose legs had been shredded by a proximity grenade. The let the fourth man down and Kyubrz looked at him, almost with contempt for being so badly wounded so early on. Zeus team was performing poorly, considering the fact that they had achieved top honors out of the training program.
“Can you still fight, Gaz?” He said as he focused more on the hallway that led to the bridge.
“Affirmative, sir. Just leave me at the entrance to the bridge. I’ll cover your back.” Gaz said, his voice concealing his pain well. Kyubrz nodded and began to move forward as his two other squad members, Silverberg and Krisom picked Gaz up and began carrying him. Silverberg grunted under the weight of Gaz, but quickly shifted her shoulders to a more comfortable position before continuing onward. As they made it to the door without any further security measures going off, Krisom and Silverburg set Gaz down within a small service entrance for automated caretakers. Nothing from behind could slip in behind him and Gaz’s LMG (Light Machine Gun) could easily tear through just about anything on this ship short of hardened tungsten.
“Explosives ready to go, sir.” Silverburg chimed in. She certainly lived up to her nickname. Mattias Silverburg was the most renowned demolitionist in the Western Hemisphere of Hiigara.
“Okay, blow ‘em” He said as he took cover. The EMP detonations fried the door’s magnetic locks and static washed over his shield, dampening the pulse and saving his suit from complete power failure. Krisom braced against the bulkhead and pried the door apart as Gaz let loose a volley of rounds between Krisom’s legs. Tiidani bridge personnel screamed as their limbs were torn apart and some were killed by lucky shots. Bridge security, however, was already fortified inside behind their own kinetic shielding. The Tiidani had gotten their hands on some Hiigaran tech obviously. Rounds pinged off the fortified barrier that the captain, XO, and many other personnel had cowered behind. Kyubrz rushed in and immediately rolled to the left just as Krisom had jammed the door into the open position and Silverburg primed a pair of concussive grenades. She tossed one in, followed by another 2 seconds later. Twin thunderclaps wracked the bridge, then it was silent throughout and Kyubrz had finished navigating around the ops consoles and reached the cowering men. A quick series of blasts suppressed any slight movement the dazed men made. All they had to do now was de-pressurize the whole ship, set a self-destruct sequence, and just get out of there. A simple job for the right A.I., HIGHCOM said before giving him Kalmiya. Kalmiya was supposedly the best A.I. they had to offer, but to Kyubrz she seemed…quirky. He tossed his thoughts aside and he inserted Kalmiya’s chip into a data port. She interfaced with the system and her voice echoed throughout the COMs. She liaised with the ship’s systems and easily broke through the firewalls set in. She bounded through the ship’s systems, using every hacking code in the book and some that were thought impossible that she had modified and improved upon. She killed the last of the Tiidani security systems and initiated the self-destruct code. As she did this, a small sigh escaped her lips and Kyubrz retrieved her from the system. He put the data chip back into the data pad on his forearm and crouched as Silverburg armed the breaching charge on the bridge’s main view port. There was a small thud as the charge detonated and the Sentinels were whisked into the vacuum. Kyubrz angled his body the minute amount needed and slowly drifted next to pieces of debris. He looked to the next closest ship, a med vessel tagged as the Lazarus, and angled his body toward that, wishing he had a thruster pack. Gaz’s suit had sealed itself before the charge detonated, his legs continued to hinder him, however, waving around and throwing him off course. Gaz constantly had to counter the movement of his legs with his hands, clumsily guiding himself toward the vessel.
“Why are we headed for a support vessel?” Krisom inquired, kicking his leg a little bit to spin so that he was standing “up”. Kyubrz was about to shrug his shoulders before reconsidering, thinking of his current course.
“I want to take out as many of these ships as I can before we have to go groundside.” Kyubrz said as he looked toward the Lazarus.
“Speak for yourself, Chief. Low and zero-gee fighting never really meshed with me.” Krisom replied, resulting in Silverburg and Gaz’s status lights flicker green in agreement.
“Well, to get groundside ASAP, we would need to get to the closest vessel, from which we can launch the escape pods. That all right with you?!” Kyubrz said, annoyed with Krisom’s constant undermining.
“Yessir.” Krisom said before cutting the COM link. The four soldiers drifted closer and closer to the ship all the while.

Kuudarn Central Business District, Khay Tar
CPO Antares Mission Clock: 00.43

A series of hisses extinguished the lives of the Tiidani guards around the encampment. The thuds of their bodies were muffled by large gusts of wind that had been hitting the city for the past half-hour. Antares flipped off his night vision and the suit’s external eyes faded from green to the normal blue hue. Hayter finished spinning the abnormally large silencer onto his Tarsok and switched the receiver to be compatible with the smaller 14mm slugs he had found on the bodies of Tiidani sharpshooters he had taken down. He input the ammo size into the rifle’s computer systems and there was a slight buzz as the barrel shrank to match the size of the round. His status light blinked green on Antares’s HUD and he waved the other three forward. S’jet had ripped a leg off a stool outside a café, which he now had a grip on so tight that the metal was bent. Slavik took an old-fashioned bayonet from an antique gun store. He had offered one to S’jet, but was refused. Kathryn had a tire iron, and Antares had his blade, for graduating as a squad lead in one of the top squads. The blade had cost so much to make that only the leaders of the three highest teams got them. They were Kyubrz from Zeus, Ardchur from Hades, and himself from Poseidon. Ardchur was not up to the task, apparently, and went MIA on his first op. Kyubrz was up in orbit, where he worked best. As he silently reviewed his team’s weapons, Hayter sent Antares his coordinates, and gave ground markers to show where he would be able to cover them. Antares blinked his light green and continued forward.
“Sir, the encampment is still dark and I have zero activity on the parade grounds. No one is moving, and the commander’s house is going to be the first to go light. Suggest you take him out first.” Hayter said calmly as he internally meditated.
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” Antares replied as he waved the rest in. They kept a firm grip on their weapons and quickly moved into the base. They moved like quicklsilver all the way to the commander’s house, not making a sound despite the half-ton armor. As they entered the commander’s house, the commander’s alarm clock rang. He warily rose and looked around, seeing four glowing pairs of eyes.
“What the he-’’ he started to say before Antares slit his throat in one quick movement, cleaning the blade on his clothes as he fell to the floor.
“Commander’s dead.” Antares said to Hayter, flicking on his tag to show his location. A 07 lit up on Hayter’s HUD over a mile away.
“There are small crawlspaces under some of the barracks. Thought you’d want to know.” Hayter replied as Antares turned about and stepped out of the house, instantly seeing a crawlspace with the light of the rising sun. His NVGs automatically turned off and he got low, barely squeezing into the space. He reached for some det-chord, but only a couple inches spun out before it was empty. That must be why they didn’t get that stuff.