Chapter Text
“War… War never changes…”
The zipping of bullets. Their forms fly past heads. Heads that were owned by bodies that frantically ducked behind clay and concrete debris. Though they have achieved that, they were now subject to a barrage that now began to dig or shatter against the little barrier of protection they have. Each one seemed intent, to find their target, to erase them from the tree of life.
Occasionally, a curious head moved to peek over the mound. A tragically fatal mistake, for all this dude was given the enemy a proper target to look at… and they were swiftly punished for it.
A bullet finally striking true on the person they just tried to wipe out. Splattering their heads to the winds and sending the body that remained to the floor.
… at least, that would have been the case. For a glow shimmered, surrounding the point of impact. Swallowing the damages, whatever the light was did what it could to protect its user. And it did it well, well enough for the person that no vital point was hit.
Shaken, yet alive, they were able to retreat back into cover.
“Is it true that war… never changes?”
BRACHTBRACHTBRACHT!
To the senders was the rapport. Bullets in horrifying rapport dashed through the air at horrifying, ballistic speed. They struck as true as their own rounds, but they were instead tearing apart the enemy that had sent the volley in the first place. Heavier, more girthy, more punchy bullets began to sail along as well.
Their purpose? To tear — and successfully doing so — apart any sort of defense that dares to get between them and their targets. Their end goal. Many of them even began to bore on through the concrete, charging on through the material and making a little bit of shrapnel. An extra amount of pain, just to tack on to the enemy.
An enemy who found these rounds striking them with the accuracy of the finest rifleman, but with the repetition and volume that would give the fastest machine gun a run for all of the money. Slicing through the enemy like a buzz saw, cutting on through them and poking massive holes in the bodies that were the target. That part of the body may as well have been reduced to a donut after that one.
”No… the feeling in war never changes. At its core… its all the same…”
”…but war evolves. Always evolves… never stagnates.”
KCH-BOOOM—!
Shells rained down from the skies and heavens themselves. Each one striking against the soil in terrible bursts, peppering the area around a little dug out. Soil, dirt, and other elements began to fly with each explosion that erupted from the impact of the munition.
The mess that flew began to slam back into the dark metal helmets that were within the dugout. Some had their backs, covered with the promise of powered armor, now caked on mud from whatever particles or blobs that had gone flying. The inhabitants of this dugout were keeping low, their heads fearfully down.
Rockets flew over them, not too long after, forcing them down further out of fear. Each munition’s great flame was roaring with incredible might and energy that could have threatened them a hundred times over. During a barrage, one had turned himself backwards to see what exactly the extent of the damage was.
He was then greeted by the sight of bodies that were now airborne. Their screams echoing to the little pocket they had. The little bit of safety, which was now acting as a front seat to the suffering of other forces that were in the area. He was then grabbed, yanked out of the way.
His comrades had a hold on the soldier, dragging him away.
Though, his eyes still watched the pain and suffering of his own men and women — the ones who got struck — they were dragging this soldier to safety. He was running with the ones who still live. The troops were moving from point to point. Their rifles unleash storms of bullets, with no hesitation.
Going down towards where the enemies are. Generous helpings, nobody was properly aiming. As long as they shoot in that direction, they are going to hit something. And to which, they succeedEd. Many foes began to be nailed, even if the aiming of some of the targets were less than optimal.
One of the soldiers was reloading his massive machine gun. He was swift, though a bit panicky. As he got the belt in, and had slapped down on the lid, he was quick to face back and return as much fire as he could. Down range filled once again with lead that aimed to try and get the enemy as whittled down as possible.
Even as they began to run, the amount of time it took for the skies to gradually start darkening was too little time at all. In fact, when it finally did happen, it was thought it was only a blink of a horrific eye. And yet in that same blink, the skies were blackened not by stormy clouds — though this may be close — but instead of bombers.
Waves upon waves of bombers, stretching as far as vision allows and undoubtedly further beyond that. Above, their engines screeched — like the heralds of death. A curtain call for this new, deadly force which had come onto the playing field to claim dominion.
And taking the red carpet laid out for it, they began to dive. With deadly, mechanical grace, they began to soar right on towards the forces on the ground. Their target was to the mass lines. The lines of heavily armored, forces in gray who have been entranced for Lucer knows how long now.
The enemy bombers were heading towards them. The gray mass who wasted not a breath. Wasted not a precious second. For when the enemy aircraft began to come right towards them, they had begun to disperse. They had begun their race for cover. Praying to their emperor, dearly and wholeheartedly, for his protection.
The protection came.
In the form of fighting vehicles — some who had crews, some who did not — began to elevate their guns upwards. Barrel reaching towards the sky. Their muzzles, their open ends facing the monsters that were beginning their dive.
Then, the fire began. Barrels kissed flames and spouted smoke and munitions. Each one screaming towards the monsters in the sky. Flak began to open up, fuses detonating and scattering explosives, force, and shrapnel all around.
These enemy bombers were forced to pick up the pace. Now dancing a ballet amongst a storm of debris, explosions, force, and storms of bullets. A brute force attempts to try and break through the fog of destruction. Many of them were shredded when just one shell exploded, the rest of them were being forcibly turned to scrap — a rapid, surprise disassembly — that sent these demons falling.
Engines revved, far behind the lines. A brand new surprise, an additional layering of explosions for these things. These engines belonged to the right and proper air defense systems. Numerous of them, who began to position. Working together, coordinating their positioning. Their own weapons are starting to face the sky.
And soon, just like the optionally manned vehicles, they raised hell.
A wall of fragmentation munitions began to blanket the sky. Tiny rods of death that began to further fill the mess of the skies with explosions that further continued to shred many of the enemy in the sky. Forcibly arresting them from flight and instead sending them pummeling to the ground.
Missiles began to join the party. From the vehicles and even from brave soldiers who brought up their own weapons. Utilizing the technology that was within their helmets, even the person buried deep in the trenches was joining the effort of air defense. His quad-tubed tool of annihilation unleashing an equal amount of missiles that immediately swarmed to the largest pockets of enemies.
The detonation that followed created massive holes in the formations of bombers. Big old gaps where enemy aircraft used to exist were now occupied by nothing but the air around it.
It still was not enough. Despite all of the munitions practically flooding the sky, it was not enough to totally cull the amount of enemy aircraft that was brute forcing their way through the pain and distraction. Something began to get through, something always had begun to get through.
Something began to drop, little projectiles that began to fall towards the Earth. Some weapons opened up to try and shoot them down, some of them succeeded, but there were too many that were coming down. Bombs that screamed at the top of their lungs — or whatever remained of them.
That is when… they landed.
…yeahhhhHHHHH HHHHHH—KBOOM—!
..aaaAAAAHHHh HHHGHHHH—KBOOM—!
Debris went everywhere. Mud followed, caking over the soldiers on the ground. The shockwaves, and whatever force from the bombs. The nightmare inducing screams only heralded more bombs, each boom across the battlefield knocking soldiers on their asses, or outright sending a few of them flying.
The few that went flying slammed their noggins. A daze befalling their person. When they recovered, they were looking over the top of whatever cover they had. Some of them, however, wished that they had not. For when they peaked over, it was not an empty field.
But instead… It was a tsunami.
An absolute tidal wave of monsters that had begun to pour over the frontlines and were rushing right towards them. It was tough as it was a reach rush, like the First World War. Silhouettes of bodies that did nothing but rush at the. Soaking up bullets, eating air strikes, and even shrugging off Artillery strikes.
For anybody from the realm of Earth, this was hell. This was an inconceivable nightmare in a gift basket. Something that would haunt the nightmares of any soldier or warrior who would be in their position. Watching as these nightmares come at them with terrifying, brute speed.
But these men…. These women… they were not of Earth, were they?
Just like the enemies in front of them. Just like the monsters that were coming upon them. They had no emotions. They… were too tired to allow themselves the feeling of being afraid. They were exhausted, eyes riddled with bags. But they will press on.
These emotions, while present, were only overshadowed by the fact that most of these soldiers were tired. That their brains were lagging too much to even comprehend being exhausted. And for those who were running on Adrenaline? They were going a bit crazy, desperate for something, for action.
They were hyper focused on the task. Filled with the literal drive to fight that chemical drug that was produced by their body in droves. They were not going to let a single bit of their fear show. They were not going to express it through any sort of emotion.
Instead, they were going to let their fury show through their guns. A storm that began to absolutely pour towards the enemy. Bullets, slugs, anything really that began to fly to punish the enemy for starting to come at them. In response to the wave, commanders and other officers started to call in artillery strikes. Long range strikes to try and break the wave that was coming.
But it may not be enough.
The enemy continued to creep closer. Discomfort, like somebody getting poked in the back, began to befall upon the warriors who were on the defending end of all of this. Discomfort, as though their own bodies began to feel for them entering their own souls. As though something had come in and began to suck the literal life out of them.
There was a chance it would have been unbearable. Incredibly so. But they were saved by technology. The technology that they were wearing on their backs and bodies as armor. It was the thing preventing themselves from going fully into the dark. They were able to regulate their temperatures to whatever the user thought to be comfortable. Whatever they desired.
But they watched as their bullets flew into the blob. Tearing through multitudes of enemy soldiers. A mass that continued to race forward. Each round did what they could, over penetrating and going through each part of this horde with ease. Rumbling was heard, and the silhouettes of armored fighting vehicles followed. Their mission to break the lines underway.
And yet, in the face of all this. The threat that was pouring right at them. The only sounds that came across the battlefield, echoing off the soil, dead bodies, or whatever have you. There were no screams, no cries of terror. The only thing that was there was the rapport of guns. The melody of automatic weapons. The marching of infantry.
Guns unleashing their angry song. Their targets being the angry mess of distorted infantry. Towards the warped silhouettes of enemy vehicles and armored fighting units.
Sharp eyes just then noticed what could be a flanking element. Sharp eyes pointing out a new development on the battlefield led. One that could have had the opportunity to complicate the front lines. They rushed to meet this new development. A squad that moved like lightning with their vehicles. Their task? To put down a new all of fire upon the hellish warriors coming to them. Laying down extensive amounts of hatred amongst them.
Accomplishing this without a single other noise breaking the song of gunfire and the artillery. However, one of the soldiers opening fire got the unfortunate pleasantry of being directly impacted by a sabot. A shell that went right into his arm and completely tore it off. He did not scream, he did not yell, he did not even whimper.
No, instead, he had placed a free hand and held his arm. He bent over and kneeled. Coping with what he just happened, he mentally blocked it out and began to move. The medic within his fire team immediately came on over with the mission to immediately administer first aid.
Foam was deployed over the wound. A substance that immediately began to harden. A medical applicant that immediately sealed the blood and prevented any more from falling out. It was a good enough measure, a genius enough one that allowed for 3 other members within this little fire team to begin to lay cover. Just enough for the medic to get to work.
She produced something. A little gift for what has happened to him. A robotic arm that she immediately gave to him and started to work on calibrating. Just something to ensure that he can fight another day. That he can live for just another day, to cull the tide against whatever that was approaching.
In another part of this endless prison they call a trench system, there was another soldier. He had his gun focused down the range of no man’s land. His muzzle flashing with the igniting of bullets that flew out at incredible speeds. Off in the corner of his eye, as he let that trigger go, he began to watch something that concerned him just a little.
A little number that was rapidly going down, down and down. Soon, it began to flash red as the number continued to drop. The number — as it appears — had corresponded to the amount of ammo that was in his current magazine, and within a second red number telling him how much ammunition he had left, and both of which, soon flashed zero.
He had finally run out, and now he had to move again. Not over the top, no he began to move further down the line. Towards comrades. He had left his magazine in the gun and had slinked on over to a medic who was working on another soldier who had been unfortunately wounded.
When he got there, he gave her a gentle tap on her shoulder. A soft one that told her that he was human. With her attention sufficiently grabbed, she turns her head out to him. She saw however, that he had his hand out, while his head was scanning the horizon for any new targets for neutralization.
However, she didn’t read that hand signal correctly. She just saw his hand out in a very specific hand configuration. So instead of passing him a much needed magazine… she just gave him her head, to form a heart. While her other hand was busy plugging holes that were in the body of the poor soldier she was treating.
The rifleman didn’t feel the magazine in his hand and as such, he turned to face the medic. Only, to be stunned by what he saw. Just a little beautiful sight in the horrible nature of this war. Hell, he even played along. Momentarily moving his hand up to hold it. Such a little action was enough to make the medic heat up, and let a little smile on the inside show.
Until, he pulled this hand down. The beauty ended there as he took out his magazine and gestured that he needed more of them. Embarrassed, and probably very, very red, she had taken out a bunch of magazines and gave it to him. She went back into the trenches, her gun back up and patient treated, and began to lay down some hit.
The soldier shook his head. However, he pulled off just a little part of his helmet as well as doing the same to hers. He bent down and began to… whisper something into her helmet. Her pink cheeks, ever so slightly revealed, had turned just a little bit more red.
The 2 then returned to combat.
And it was just in the nick of time as well.
For the wall of flesh was closing in, surrounding them slowly.
Their instincts were telling them to run , run for it.
Artillery shells rained down even heavier upon their positions, with bombs slamming down into the hole they called protection. The screams are intensifying as they really were planning on failing back, with the skies getting darker and darker.
And yet, there was more terrible news that was sent over the radio.
“Colonel’s down I repeat Colonel’s down!”
There was a moment of silence, as the second in command was at his post in the frontlines, and he was about to say something when he heard — from a voice that was practically screaming: “Company Alpha, Company Beta, and Company Echo has pushed to breaking point and Company Charles and Company Delta have been overrun! I repeat, Alpha, Beta, Echo breaking point, Charles, Delta, overrun!”
And with that, the new commander already can see what will happen, as everyone also knows what will happen, if they fall back. With no hesitation, he soon roared over the coms, “This is Beta Commander, I am assuming command!”
Everyone heard that and continued to hold as the rest of the companies held with baited breaths, wondering what would this young man do. The young commander stood up and stared out over the horizon, realizing what must be done as his radio became cluttered with the terrified concerns of soldiers, reverting back to the time of Mantle, fears now mounting as they tried to hold. He looked all around and saw his flanks being pushed back.
And that’s when he made the fateful decision. The ONLY one he could really make in this scenario.
“Broken shield! I repeat, broken shield!”
“Sir, we’re receiving transmission from Sergeant Major Jackson!”
“Sent it up, let’s hear-”
However as soon as the communications officer set it up, dread filled the room as they heard, “Broken Shield!”
The Frigate captain knew right away what must be done. What this sort of order really meant. The magnitude that a situation has to be at In order for that phrase, that Command to be uttered.
Without another word, he soon turned as everyone went to work right away, used to the tune of that word.
Fighters and close air support scrambled into positions as radio signals blared out everywhere, locating the location of the broken shield, and contacted every artillery and aircraft within a 250 km radius from the collapsing positions.
All along the front, pilots scram towards their aircraft, with their maintenance crew helping them gear up, with briefing happening while inside of the aircraft.
With great efficiency, the ground crews rapidly used robots to lock the missiles into the payload sections, refueling the aircraft, and making final minute check ups.
Each aircraft pilot understands the mission, as the fighters prepared themselves for the dog fight to come.
Meanwhile, the pilots of the Puma were double checking with their AI that all of the ground attack missiles are functional and prepped, hoping to not embarrass themselves if they require a Longsword to cover their role.
Soon, all of the pilots are readied up as their canopy begins to encase them. They all turned and saluted their ground teams who saluted them back, before all craft hovered above the ground, before they zoomed right out towards the location.
Above and within the skies, some pilots were returning home when they received the call. The leading pilot turned to his squad mate, who gave him a nod.
He turned to his left and saw the same thing. Seeing all of this, they double checked their autonomous wingmen, ensuring that they had enough fuel for a limited run.
They also double checked and see that they have the armament remaining for said run. Knowing they were in a good position, every single one of those pilots placed the location down upon their GPS, and rerouted themselves towards the frontlines.
Behind allied lines, a multi-launch rocket vehicle was standing still as the crews were working around the clock, working hard and fast while also being cautious.
The MLRS was lined up closely to its logistics truck, as it connected with it, allowing for the MLRS to take the missiles from the truck into each individual tube.
The crew members outside watched, making sure the missiles are aligned and pushed in safely, while a gunner was setting rough coordinates and setting a tolerance level for each missile, ensuring that it is ready to be launched as soon as possible.
And a long ways away, was a crew of soldiers hauling their ammunition magazines from the trucks and on to the sides of the self propelled artillery system,
A soldier on top grabbed it before slamming it down into its desired location, sending the shells into the internal mag, before ejecting the external mag, letting more go in as once again, the guns and shells are being programmed to their set locations.
Far in the rear, boots are being called for, as Planetary Guards Troopers and their robotic army are rapidly being prepared, getting into their vehicles and being briefed on their way towards the frontlines, as the robots are folded up and placed into a modified fighting vehicle, which rushed ahead of their human occupied counterparts, charging towards the scene.
BRACHTBRACHTBEACHT—!
The bullet exchange from both sides was one that nobody wants to be in the center ofas some of the Covenant managed to arrive at the frontlines, and begin to engage in melee combat.
One of them was attempting to choke out the gray armored soldier, forcing the soldier to elbow the Covie soldier in the ribs, cracking its demonic bones as it howled in pain before it got its head grabbed then ripped off.
And without wasting time, the soldier threw the head at full speed towards the nearest demonic being, shattering the bones of both the skull and the soldier, severely injuring the demonic being, and letting it bleed to death.
And this is just one of many examples of melee combat being used extensively, as bayonets are fixed, with soldiers brutally using anything they have, some even using shovels to combat their foes.
But while this is going on, on an open front, the new Battalion officer noticed something on the field.
Not a Covenant tank, or another wave of infantry.
No, surrounded by the hellish scene of flesh, marching towards a mechanical front, and the skies slowly bleeding, was a small child.
Just a poor little boy, running away from the horde, crying out as he didn't know what to do, with his parents now gone.
Taking a deep breath, the officer soon shouted towards his men a simple order, “ COVER ME!”
At first, they were confused. They were bewildered as he leapt over the trenchline.
Many wanted to ask him what he was doing, until they noticed the unicorn faunus in the middle of the battlefield. Everyone went up in arms, opening fire to suppress the enemy forces. At the sight of the little one, everybody immediately understood what their task was at that moment, and now they were going to accomplish it.
As for the officer, he just booted, using all of his might, opening fire upon those who seek death for the child, as he is on no man's land. As he continued to rush forwards, he saw that child got hit on the leg, cutting it off as the kid screamed and cried.
The poor boy was rolling around in the mud, as more soldiers arrived, with one of them being a brute. Its maw was foaming, and saliva flooded from his mouth as the sight of young flesh.
And the young child saw his life flashing before his eyes, as the monsters got closer, looking like they were ready to devour him, as he balled up, tears flowing as he didn't want to die. He didn’t deserve to die this poor little boy.
He closed his eyes and braced for the pain. He waited for what felt like an eternity, begging for a quick end. Just then, he felt a metallic hand grabbed him as he flinched, crying more-
KCHBOOM—-!
Went the grenade as now It was the monsters that were crying out in pain. Confused, he looked up only to see a helmet he used to idolize, a soldier’s faceless helmet, covering him with his body, using the bio foam that this soldier has, to cover up the wound.
He wanted to say thanks, but was losing strength, so he just hugged the titan of a man, who began to run back, not even caring about all the bullet rain as shells began to arrive in bulk. Not caring, not one bit at all.
The officer looked up and realized how dangerously close those shells are… wait they are heading his way.
The soldier soon began to spring as fast as he could, as he bit down his lip, feeling like he was about to limp his way back. Feeling as though his Achilles tendon tearing itself apart as the sheer speed he went, all the while, holding the child with both arms.
He was unable to protect himself, but all was null as long as he was able to solely focus on protecting this injured kid, entrusting his and thus kid's life in the hands of their holy uncle and to the soldier's subordinates.
He felt the recoiling of his armor from the shots he took on his back, with the shields rapidly depleting due to him not even running for cover, as multiple missiles rained down from the heavens.
At first, he does not know what those missiles are aiming. Were they coming for him…?
No, they were not. For the computer within his helmet showed him the trajectory, and my oh my it was towards the enemy. He was nearly overjoyed when he saw that amount of support coming.
But just as he was about to leave, he saw a suicider, suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and screamed its deathly scream. It’s blood curdling death howl that only heralded one thing. One thing that prompted the soldier to turn his body to take what was coming.
The screams then led to the blast.
The explosion was so violent, that it knocked him from his feet, sending him towards the ground. And yet despite this and being a bit disoriented, he made it.
He got close enough to the trench where the rest of his fire team pushed forwards a bit to retrieve their commanding officer and the child. Dragging him along even as he continued to protect the kid with his body, until they arrived at the trench.
Once back at the trenches, the commander ordered the medic to check up on the kid, and so she did as the others continued to open fire, even thought their commander is in pain, feeling his suit cooling and heating the pain locations, as he man up and just tough it out. Many tried to help him stand, but he refused, pointing towards the frontlines as he used his own strength to get up.
As they arrived at the safety of the lines and was recovering, their Air Force arrived, and had began to combat the enemy bombers, downing them by the hundreds. But there was no cheering yet, as hundreds of thousands of Covenant soldiers continued to swarm towards this, barely a thousand left Battalion, that is just trying to hold on.
But that is when they noticed a Hail Mary sent from the skies.
A frigate.
THEIR frigate.
It descended from the skies, and launched a missile, hurling down towards the massive wave of Covies, as they are now using their air defenses in an attempt to shoot down that missile. But that single missile only flew for a few seconds, before arriving near the targets, and bursted in the air.
A massive cloud in the shape of a mushroom was formed from the detonation, engulfing tens of thousands if not more, swallowing their logistics and spare manpower. All the while, the air was finally beaten back, firmly in Remnant hands, as close air support began to fly in, raining down shells and missiles towards the survivors.
The guns on those aircraft, begin to rev up, reaching speeds an eye can not comprehend before letting out its payload, striking the ground with high explosive payloads, creating multiple artillery shell sizes explosions, annihilating many Covenant tanks, that was reorganizing, before they rapidly banked to avoid enemy interceptors, letting the Airforce to continue to contest the skies, slowly turning the red skies bluer as the brrrrt was finally heard.
And yet despite this, a new offensive was launched by the demonic Covenant soldiers, charging into the frayl Covenant tanks begin to open fire, concentrating their firepower upon the optionally manned friendly IFVs, dwindling the numbers of heavy firepower that the frontlines can have, hoping to break the frontlines.
And still, despite the Gunships, the Covenant forces are closing in, getting nearer and nearer. But the Covenant air defenses are being attacked by a new wave of close air support that begin to conduct “Destruction of Enemy Air Defenses” or DEAD .
Ensuring that they can not reuse their platforms to strike more targets, and allowing for the third wave as well as artillery fire to begin to annihilate the Covenant artillery. They even went so far as to use drones to dive down, striking into the artillery systems so vital to pinning down Remnantian forces.
But there is still a massive wave incoming, so eager to break the nearly broken lines. Realizing this, the ground forces called the nearby AWACs, which are still working around the clock, as the crew inside was working around the clock contacting the air forces there, coordinating movements and attacks as they began to call for the United Kingdoms of Remnant’s most powerful aircraft.
An Attack Pelican was already in the air when they received the call from the ground teams, and began to tilt itself, aiming one side of its body towards the stragglers, and began raining down shells from everywhere. Artillery cannons, autocannons, missiles, the whole ordeal, now laying waste to those unlucky few who remained.
And that was when the campaign halted, as the Covenant forces begin to split up, with troops either abandoning the offensive, only to be shot, or continued the offensive.
They were now charging with barely the bodies needed to even damage the frontlines. A literal storm of bullets tore right through them, with officers on the Covenant side being brutally torn apart by sniper fire.
And then, the numbers game has turned, as reinforcements arrived as robots began to fill in the trenches, and opened fire with their rifles. It was successful in forcing the enemy to charge into a well defended position with superior numbers.
Realizing this, a general withdrawal was organized by the Covenant as they made a fighting retreat back to their lines, with many stuck in melee combat. They were being torn apart by both flesh and metal alike, unable to escape their fates, but escaped their existence.
But, the remaining forces are planning on launching an immediate counter offensive to drive the Covenant back further than they attacked, with the newly arrived Rapid Deployment Force arriving and waiting behind them, their formation more of an offensively minded one rather than the defensive one these soldiers had.
And the offensive would be very successful, if it were not for the Covenant's last ditch effort. They were sending out suicider officers to summon hordes of the class of units they commanded, charging towards the ground forces, screaming even as the red skies finally became fully blue.
But there was no real major combat from this, as all of them are taken out rather quickly, as the skies are reclaimed by the brave men and women of the skies. It was allowing for an unharassed artillery to rain down shells, and aircraft to smite the futile charge, before retreating to refuel and resupply as their sorties were practically completed.
While the Planetary Guard was happy, the Rapid Deployment Force was not, seeing their window of opportunity to strike back is now gone. Realizing this, they still stayed behind to await their reinforcements and new plans to conduct a new offensive here.
As for those who remained within the Battalion, they finally got the order to rotate with the newly replenished forces as they got out of the trenches, with the commander holding the wounded child, marching out.
As he passed an RDF Legionnaire, he felt that officer pats his shoulder and nodded, as the PG officer nodded back, as the two went their separate, solemn ways.
The robots took up position as the artillery continued to strike, now striking Covenant logistics and their prepared defenses, as everyone knew that the UKR will launch a new offensive here, just a matter of when.
The new commanding officer of the Battalion was sent to his regimental HQ where he shall officially receive his new ranking.
As much as he appreciates the new title, what he yearns for more now, is just a place to rest. Just a little somewhere, where he can lie down and nap.
Maybe go to a planet, a planet left untouched by the chaos of this war. A planet that was all the decadence and peace that he dreamed for…
But no such planet exists like this, not in this universe…
Right?