Terran Ingenuity (Starcraft x Mass Effect)
- Thread starter Xeno Major
- Start date
-
- Tags
- mass effect starcraft
doorcf the first and only
I'm gonna cut you down
- Location
- Lost in a BROB
com'on the Son of Mira and Horner would be an unstopable badassImage said:
not only his mother is a mercenary queen/leader and his father is the closest thing to admiral Raynor have, but ALL the crew of the Hyperion is going to teach him something
just look at the posibilities
Qwaar
Jesus Christ how horrifying
Nope. Part of me just died on the inside.Mercsenary said:
How much of me must you kill spacebattles!
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
Tarkus threatened court-martial for using the Cupola-mounted guns, which are these things:Felius said:
Basically, he was telling the crews to not get cocky, in his own brash way. Using a cupola-mounted gun would be the height of folly, and Tarkus arrogantly believed that his troops might be too tempted by the 'small, unarmored targets' to resist opening fire.
As for the very good point about being unprepared for the mines, I'll have to go back and tweak the snip to show just how many spider mines are attacking, and how fast.
My thought was that the turians were surprised at the number and speed of the mines - evidently I didn't showcase that enough.
Thanks for the help, I'll go back and try to fix it up.
"Mines don't move!. Except when trigger."
Man, why do I imagine all aircraft repurpose as a spider bomber?.
Bomber pilot:"BE FREE LITTLE MINELINGS!. BE FREE!."
Man, why do I imagine all aircraft repurpose as a spider bomber?.
Bomber pilot:"BE FREE LITTLE MINELINGS!. BE FREE!."
Hell, we've got bombs and artillery shells that disperse mines that deploy tripwires upon landing.edukated said:
Spider mine deployment for Starcraft-tech should be a goddamn piece of cake.
"SIR!, THE FUCKING SPIDERS CAN FLY NOW!. NUKE THIS SITE FROM ORBIT, JUST TO BE SURE!."
They aren't flying.LONE WOLF 666 said:
They're falling, with style!
Spider mine ODST?. Now if there is only appropriate cadence for them.
(Marine)"DOWN BY THE RIVER!"
(Spiderlings mines)"Down by the river!)"
(Marine)"WE TOOK A LITTLE STROLL!"
(Spiderlings mines)"we took a little stroll!"
(Marine)"WE RAN INTO SOME ZERGLINGS!"
(Spiderlings mines)We ran into some zerglings!"
(Marine)"AND BLOW THEM TO SMITHERINGS!"
(Spiderlings mines)"And blow them to smitherings!"
(Marine)"DOWN BY RIVER!"
(Spiderlings mines)"Down by the river!"
(Marine)"WE TOOK A LITTLE STROLL!"
(Spiderlings mines)"We took a little stroll!"
(Marine)"WE RAN INTO PROTOSS!"
(Spiderlings mines)"We ran into protoss!"
(Marine)"WE SHOW EM WHOSE BOOSSS!"
(Spiderlings mines)"We show em whose boosss!"
(Marine-"THEN WE RAN INTO TURIANS!"
(Spiderlings mines)"Then we ran into turians!"
(Marine))"WE LAUGH AS THEY RUN AROUND!"
(Spiderlings mines)"We laugh as they run around!"
"????????????...must have smoke something."
"Tevos?."
"Nevermind, let's just go to the negotiation site."
(Spiderlings mines)"Down by the river!)"
(Marine)"WE TOOK A LITTLE STROLL!"
(Spiderlings mines)"we took a little stroll!"
(Marine)"WE RAN INTO SOME ZERGLINGS!"
(Spiderlings mines)We ran into some zerglings!"
(Marine)"AND BLOW THEM TO SMITHERINGS!"
(Spiderlings mines)"And blow them to smitherings!"
(Marine)"DOWN BY RIVER!"
(Spiderlings mines)"Down by the river!"
(Marine)"WE TOOK A LITTLE STROLL!"
(Spiderlings mines)"We took a little stroll!"
(Marine)"WE RAN INTO PROTOSS!"
(Spiderlings mines)"We ran into protoss!"
(Marine)"WE SHOW EM WHOSE BOOSSS!"
(Spiderlings mines)"We show em whose boosss!"
(Marine-"THEN WE RAN INTO TURIANS!"
(Spiderlings mines)"Then we ran into turians!"
(Marine))"WE LAUGH AS THEY RUN AROUND!"
(Spiderlings mines)"We laugh as they run around!"
"????????????...must have smoke something."
"Tevos?."
"Nevermind, let's just go to the negotiation site."
SneakyWalrus
Is the Water Free?
You see, now I'm imagining seven little spider mines marching along with tiny fake beards, silly hats and miniature pick axes, beeping out a very similar song.
Beep beep, Beep beep
Its off to mine we go!
Beep beep, Beep beep
Its off to bomb we go!
With a chest full of bombs and digging claws!
Beep beep, Beep beep
Its off to mine we go!
Beep beep, Beep beep
Its off to mine we go!
Beep beep, Beep beep
Its off to bomb we go!
With a chest full of bombs and digging claws!
Beep beep, Beep beep
Its off to mine we go!
That just makes it authentic. They're soldiers, and robotic mines, not musicians.Chargone said:
Except that military marching songs tend to have at minimum a rhytm that works well, as a rhytm that works well is a rhytm that you can work with even when you are doing some demanding physical excercise without it tiring you out harder.Oni said:
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
In any other thread, all the jokes about spider mines would be part of some elaborate April Fools prank.
Not Terran Ingenuity, though. We take that shit seriously.
Not Terran Ingenuity, though. We take that shit seriously.
InsaneCat
It ends in Fire?
It's Military, Human!Wank, Explosive, Cute and part of universe we all love. How can we NOT take it seriously?Xeno Major said:
Chargone
Invisable operator
- Location
- New Zealand
"How many turians does it takes, to screw in the light bulb?."
"3"
"First one, to give up his sanity. Second one to run around clutching his head. And a third one so cynical, question if there is a light bulb."
"3"
"First one, to give up his sanity. Second one to run around clutching his head. And a third one so cynical, question if there is a light bulb."
Cyanios
Advice Eldar.
You forgot the fourth that begs the Terrans for help.LONE WOLF 666 said:
Turians don't beg.
Now I can't get this song out of my head:
"He was just a rookie mine and he surely shook with fright, He checked off his explosives and made sure his pack was tight; He had to sit and listen to those awful engines roar, "You ain't gonna explode no more!"
(CHORUS) Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die, Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die, Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die, He ain't gonna explode no more!"
"He was just a rookie mine and he surely shook with fright, He checked off his explosives and made sure his pack was tight; He had to sit and listen to those awful engines roar, "You ain't gonna explode no more!"
(CHORUS) Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die, Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die, Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die, He ain't gonna explode no more!"
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
Chapter 2 (Snip 3)
"What's the status on that armored column?" Raynor asked, as he typed away on the command interface.
"Looks like around sixty percent casualties, with the remaining tanks in full retreat." Colonel Benning reported, swiping at a bead of sweat as he consulted the map. "The retreat's well coordinated, so I don't think we got the CO."
"That's fine," Raynor replied with a shrug. "The birds aren't gonna try another rush like that anytime soon. Jax, how's that infantry push near the east doing? Are those reinforcements there yet?"
"Our boys are holding 'em off, Marshall." Fred Jax called out, shifting his cigar around in his mouth. "Third and fourth platoon are bein' pressed hard, but those reinforcements are half a minute away. Plus, Sergeant Joss said that she found a few of her ol' friends in a bar that might be able to lend a helpin' hand."
"What exactly does that mean?" Benning asked, quirking an eyebrow in a highborn gesture of confusion. "How do a few drunks help our situation?"
"Well, when those drunks are members of the War Pigs, they help out a fair bit." Raynor chuckled. "Am I right, Jax?"
"Right on the button, Marshall." Jax drawled.
"I've heard about the reputation of the War Pigs, but how useful are they now?" Benning doubted, unconvinced. "Drunk soldiers aren't worth the risk."
"The 'Pigs fight better when they've got a little buzz, Colonel." Jax replied lightly, humor in his tone. "Besides, Joss ain't that stupid. She left the real drunks back at the bar."
"The Pigs are damn good soldiers, Colonel, drunk or not." Raynor assured the doubtful man. "Which means that the birds' infantry push is handled. Combine that with the retreat o' those tanks, and we're in a pretty good spot."
"Just… one question…" Benning mentioned hesitantly. "How did those men get into their armor so quickly?"
"Hell, don't you drink in your armor?" Jax questioned, puzzled.
There was a slight pause as Benning, clad only in his thin fatigues, glanced at Jax, who still wore his bulky and battle-worn CMC armor.
The ex-Dominion aristocrat and the ex-Confederate redneck regarded each other with identical expressions of bewilderment, making Raynor struggle to contain a smirk beneath his layer of professionalism.
"Colonel," Raynor answered, his amused tone tinged with exasperation. "Best not ask where they got their armor, 'less you want them to go back to the bar."
"U-understood, Commander." Benning replied uneasily, returning his gaze to the map.
"So, when are we gonna crush the damn birds?" Jax questioned. "We've got the momentum on our side now, so what are we waiting around fer?"
"It's better to wait and stay on the defensive." Benning answered.
"But why?" Jax asked again.
"Remember Chau Sara? If a fleet has orbital superiority, that fleet controls the entire planet." Benning explained. "Well, unless they have a defensive anti-orbital battery, but-"
"Now, now, no need to think about 'what ifs'." Raynor said. "If Matt and the fleet can beat off the birds up in space, then we can use those ships to win the battle on the ground."
"And if we lose in space…" Jax started to say, before hesitating and falling silent.
Nobody spoke, as the implications of such a scenario were easy to understand. Jax and Benning grimaced at the thought, while Raynor thumbed on his comm.
"Tell me you got some good news, Matt."
Xxxx
Matt Horner winced as the Hyperion shuddered once more.
"Shields at fifty percent!" Lieutenant Hall cried out.
"Could be better." Matt Horner admitted, as Raynor scowled. "We've been pounding on them pretty hard, but they've got a lot of ships."
"How's the fleet holding up?"
"We've lost the Redoubtable to a reactor breach, and the Valiant's a cripple." Matt told him, his voice tense. "Cade! Cut starboard thrusters, over-compensate with port, roll the shields."
Lieutenant Cade typed away furiously at his console, cycling fresh shields into place as the Hyperion twisted in space, presenting her well-armored belly to the bird fleet as she weaved and twisted to avoid enemy fire.
By the time Matt glanced back up at Jim's holographic portrait, Jim had cut the signal, his holographic portrait fading away quickly.
Matt let out a quick breath of relief at Jim's understanding – multi-tasking while in combat was a bad idea, and Jim could see that Matt needed as few distractions as possible.
Fighting the birds was different from normal Terran naval tactics, which usually took place at distances ranging from one light-second to five hundred kilometers, which was considered knife-fighting range, due to the range of laser weaponry.
The birds had clearly realized that, because they were pressing at extremely close range, with their fleets barely one hundred kilometers apart, to deny the Terrans that advantage.
Worse, Matt couldn't increase that distance without giving the birds orbital supremacy, which would spell death for Jim and his ground forces.
Inspecting the chart again, Matt looked at the intel report on Tango-Four, the largest enemy vessel. It was a long, hulking thing, easily a kilometer long, with a truly massive spinal mount.
From the power of the kinetic strikes it was putting out, Swann had thrown out a ballpoint guesstimate that the spinal mount ran the entire length of the dreadnought, as Swann had hesitantly classified it.
The Redoubtable had tried to move closer and draw its fire away from the Hyperion, only for the damn thing to move around like something a tenth of it's mass and blast the Redoubtable to pieces with incredibly precise strikes, until it had destabilized the Redoubtable's reactor, resulting in a catastrophic detonation.
Captain Henderson hadn't even managed to start evacuations before the core destabilized, and the few escape pods that had jettisoned were caught in the blast wave.
The Redoubtable had gone down with all hands, eight thousand personnel.
"Bombardment arrays are to target Tango-Four when they come into range. Normal batteries are to continue hammering Tango-Three and Seven." Matt ordered, as the enormous Tango-Four fired again.
The bombardment arrays were one of Swann's modifications, and were purpose-designed for orbital bombardment. In a pinch, they could be used for extremely close-range combat in space, though their energy output wasn't as high as the batteries.
"The Shogoki just ionized Tango-Eight!" Lieutenant Cade reported. "They're stuck on a ballistic course, heading away from Shanxi's orbit."
"Tango-Three just went to FTL!" Hall called out, as Matt caught one last glimpse of the damaged and fleeing cruiser before it vanished via the birds' version of FTL-travel.
"That makes ten." Matt murmured to himself, as he keyed open the comm. "Swann, can we pull off another tac-jump?"
"Yeah, Matt, but I wouldn't risk a second one," the heavy-set engineer replied, his brow gleaming with sweat. "We just replaced one coolant line, and we don't have any more spares in storage. It's your choice, flyboy."
Matt thought about it for a second, while another shudder ran through the ship.
"We're doing it. Swann, get your engineers to keep that reactor stable, no matter what. Hall, give me a link to Bucephalus, Ragnarak, and Jackson's Revenge."
Three faces flashed into existence above the chart, but Matt didn't bother to look at them as his gloved hands poked at the hologram, designating positions around the dreadnought.
"David, Louis, Sebastian, we need to take out Tango-Four immediately." Matt explained, as he transmitted the coordinates.
"We're going to pull a tactical warp-jump, then fire everything at that dreadnought. That spinal mount won't be of as much of a threat if we can get around it, but you'll need to do a lot of fast maneuvers to keep out of its firing arc. Understood?"
"Understood," they repeated, the two male voices not able to disguise the unmistakable third voice, a female one.
Matt glanced up, seeing a woman's face in place of Louis's.
"Captain Martin's dead, sir," the woman reported with a grimace of pain, a line of blood dripping from a cut on her head. "We had an internal explosion when one of the old Confederate power couplings failed, with three casualties. We're still combat-capable."
"Understood." Matt nodded. "Do him proud, Captain Shepard."
"Ragnarak's hungry for revenge, sir." Shepard replied, her face set in harsh determination. "We won't let you down."
"Jumping on my mark." Matt announced, shifting his gaze to his antique wind-up wristwatch. "Three, two, one, Mark!"
Reality bent and twisted, stars streaming past the Hyperion's viewing screens as Matt's stomach lurched. The sensation enveloped his body, until Reality reasserted itself with a snap of acceleration as the Hyperion reappeared in space aft of the dreadnought.
"All batteries, open fire!" Matt barked. "Status of the Yamato Cannon?"
"Ninety percent charged, sir!"
"Good enough – Fire!"
Matt watched, breath held tight in his chest, as the Yamato blast slammed into the enemy vessel, ripping a searing gash into the hull, right around the midsection, and leaving an ugly scar on the alien ship's plating.
"We've got him!" Matt whispered to himself, clenching a fist.
But then the dreadnought shifted, its silhouette stretching out for a split-second, before it vanished. The few remaining alien vessels followed suit, fleeing into FTL.
"Skipper, all enemy vessels have fled the system!" Hall reported quickly, as Matt stared at the tactical chart, his fists now clenched in rage. "The ionized cruiser is still present, but it'll take thirty minutes of sub-light to decelerate enough to catch up to it."
Matt didn't respond, instead watching as the twin Yamato blasts from the Bucephalus and the Ragnarak soared in space, without a target in sight.
Sighing, Matt unbuttoned the top clasp on his stifling greatcoat and reached for a flask. He lifted it up to his lips, but paused before he could drink, setting the flask aside as he stared at the tactical chart. With the press of a few buttons, he signaled every ship in the system, plus Jim.
Six holo-portraits greeted him, every face looking relieved save for Captain Abernathy, who was stuck aboard the crippled Valiant.
"You've all heard it by now; the birds have left." Matt stated directly, charging straight into the conversation. "Priority is on the ground forces they left behind, so I'm splitting up the fleet. Bucephalus, Ragnarak, and Shogoki, you're to descend to the planet and provide close support for Jim. Katsuragi, I want you to park that oversized dropship of yours inside the starport, drop the invasion ramp, and take that starport."
"From what our infil specialists are tellin' me, that's where the birds transmissions are comin' from." Raynor chipped in. "David, Sebastian, transfer whatever ground forces you have left over to the Shogoki, those troops'll be better used taking our their high command."
"In the mean time, I'll take Swann and the Hyperion over to assist the Valiant. Sebastian, you're going to secure that ionized cruiser. Board it, and secure as many prisoners as you can." Matt ordered, as he felt long delayed fatigue start to set in.
"I'll keep my ground troops, then." Sebastian commented, making Matt shake his head wearily.
"Sorry, I didn't think about that." Matt admitted, rubbing his forehead. "You're right, of course. In that case, I'll transfer over whatever troops I have left to you. The Valiant and the disabled cruiser are on roughly the same heading, so I'll send the shuttles over en route."
"Boys an' girls, we've done good work today." Raynor said. "We've lost a lot of people, and while we can't forget that fact, we've also got to keep our heads up. Sebastian, tell your boys that I want those birds alive. No executions, no beating surrendering prisoners. You read me?"
"Understood, Commander."
"Well then, let's get to it."
Xxxx
It was silent in the command post. The rapid-fire click-clack of talons on keyboards had stopped, and nobody said a word.
General Kuril just stared blankly at the main display, which had a small red dot in the corner, indicating a priority message.
Quietly, Kuril stepped closer to the display, gently pushing aside the aide who normally manned the control board.
As his talons stretched out to play the message, another taloned hand stopped his.
"Sir," Captain Denarius whispered, his face downcast. "You have to play it in private, sir. You know the regulations – priority messages are for the commanding officer only."
Kuril tilted his head, indicating that he had heard Denarius, but he pressed the button anyway.
Turian regulations listed a number of good reasons for that restriction: possibility of infiltrators, possibility of moral loss, need-to-know information, and so on.
Of course, like any rule, there was always a way to exploit it – due to the regulations, that meant that General Oraka's explanation about why he had abandoned Kuril and his men would not be heard by the men he had left to die on this Spirits-forsaken world.
It meant that Oraka's shame wouldn't be exposed to the men.
So Kuril pressed the button, expanding the image of Oraka's nervous face, and played the message for the entire command center to hear.
"To General Kuril, Commanding Officer of the Twelfth Division of the glorious Turian Hierarchy, I hereby pass formal Command Authority concerning the affairs of the Relay 314 incident to you."
Every single turian in the room was still, muscles tightened in distaste at the legalese that Oraka had employed.
He even dreamed up a name for this cluster-fuck, Kuril thought to himself distantly.
That sanctimonious asshole.
"To prevent the loss of the entirety of the Sixth Expedition Fleet, I must withdraw from this Theater of War. As Commanding Officer of the Sixth Expedition Fleet, I must warn you that the unknown species identified as 'Terrans' will take no prisoners, and so you must give them no prisoners."
Captain Denarius stared, horrified and dumbstruck, at the recorded image of Oraka's face.
At the starport's Terran control panel across the room, Adrien Victus tightened his grip on the back on his commandeered Terran chair, his talons stabbing viciously into the seat, though his face was emotionless.
"To that effect, I am hereby forced by extenuating circumstances to Order you to Give no Surrender, as the Terrans will not Accept it. I will pass on the dreadful news to the families of your soldiers. Fight on, knowing that I will return will the full force of the Turian Hierarchy to avenge the loss of you and your men. For the Hierarchy."
As the message ended, Kuril let out a protracted sigh, aware that every eye on the room was on him.
"Commander Victus, prepare to transmit a response." Kuril said, his words tight and controlled.
"General Kuril, the Fleet has left the system. They won't be able to receive the message." Commander Adrien Victus stated, his voice similarly controlled, though Kuril could detect Adrien's unstated plea of please, don't do this.
"Message starts," Kuril stated, ignoring Victus. "To General Oraka: message received, and refused."
The aides and technicians in the room gasped, jaws dropping in shock as Kuril continued speaking, untouched by their shudders of horror at what they were witnessing.
"You have killed enough of my men today, Oraka. I hereby declare you unfit for duty, and charge you with cowardice, incompetence, and high treason." Kuril continued, his voice calm and unhurried. "Message ends."
As the soldiers in the room stared at Kuril, only one of them moved.
Laying his hand on Kuril's shoulder, Adrien Victus nodded to his General.
"As General Kuril's second in command, I agree with his assessment, and endorse his decision."
Turian discipline was too tight for the men in that room to start shouting like a gang of rowdy children, but Kuril could tell that his men's discipline was about to snap.
"Get me a blanket comm. signal." Kuril demanded, the bark of command in his voice snapping his men out of their shock. "I want everyone on this rock to hear me."
"Done, sir." the comm. technician said, saluting formally.
"Forces of the Turian Hierarchy, as your Commanding Officer, I hereby order you to stand down and surrender. I repeat, stand down and surrender to the Terrans, in as large groups as you can gather. There is to be no resistance to the Terrans, or I fear that we shall all be killed."
Finishing his broadcast, Kuril dropped his comm. unit and took one last look around the room, at all the disheartened turian troopers slumping at their posts.
Officers were supposed to encourage their troops, not dishearten them.
And even if he was soon to be branded the biggest shame in the history of the Hierarchy, General Kuril was still an officer.
"Commander Victus," Kuril said, turning to his loyal second in command. "Make sure my broadcast goes down correctly on the official record, please. I'd hate for history to get it wrong."
Victus chuckled, and after a moment of pause, Kuril joined in, followed shortly by the rest of the men in the command center, all chuckling at something that wasn't funny at all.
Across the city, turian soldiers began to lay down their guns and surrender before the Terrans, ending the long day of fighting for the little dirtball called Shanxi.
"What's the status on that armored column?" Raynor asked, as he typed away on the command interface.
"Looks like around sixty percent casualties, with the remaining tanks in full retreat." Colonel Benning reported, swiping at a bead of sweat as he consulted the map. "The retreat's well coordinated, so I don't think we got the CO."
"That's fine," Raynor replied with a shrug. "The birds aren't gonna try another rush like that anytime soon. Jax, how's that infantry push near the east doing? Are those reinforcements there yet?"
"Our boys are holding 'em off, Marshall." Fred Jax called out, shifting his cigar around in his mouth. "Third and fourth platoon are bein' pressed hard, but those reinforcements are half a minute away. Plus, Sergeant Joss said that she found a few of her ol' friends in a bar that might be able to lend a helpin' hand."
"What exactly does that mean?" Benning asked, quirking an eyebrow in a highborn gesture of confusion. "How do a few drunks help our situation?"
"Well, when those drunks are members of the War Pigs, they help out a fair bit." Raynor chuckled. "Am I right, Jax?"
"Right on the button, Marshall." Jax drawled.
"I've heard about the reputation of the War Pigs, but how useful are they now?" Benning doubted, unconvinced. "Drunk soldiers aren't worth the risk."
"The 'Pigs fight better when they've got a little buzz, Colonel." Jax replied lightly, humor in his tone. "Besides, Joss ain't that stupid. She left the real drunks back at the bar."
"The Pigs are damn good soldiers, Colonel, drunk or not." Raynor assured the doubtful man. "Which means that the birds' infantry push is handled. Combine that with the retreat o' those tanks, and we're in a pretty good spot."
"Just… one question…" Benning mentioned hesitantly. "How did those men get into their armor so quickly?"
"Hell, don't you drink in your armor?" Jax questioned, puzzled.
There was a slight pause as Benning, clad only in his thin fatigues, glanced at Jax, who still wore his bulky and battle-worn CMC armor.
The ex-Dominion aristocrat and the ex-Confederate redneck regarded each other with identical expressions of bewilderment, making Raynor struggle to contain a smirk beneath his layer of professionalism.
"Colonel," Raynor answered, his amused tone tinged with exasperation. "Best not ask where they got their armor, 'less you want them to go back to the bar."
"U-understood, Commander." Benning replied uneasily, returning his gaze to the map.
"So, when are we gonna crush the damn birds?" Jax questioned. "We've got the momentum on our side now, so what are we waiting around fer?"
"It's better to wait and stay on the defensive." Benning answered.
"But why?" Jax asked again.
"Remember Chau Sara? If a fleet has orbital superiority, that fleet controls the entire planet." Benning explained. "Well, unless they have a defensive anti-orbital battery, but-"
"Now, now, no need to think about 'what ifs'." Raynor said. "If Matt and the fleet can beat off the birds up in space, then we can use those ships to win the battle on the ground."
"And if we lose in space…" Jax started to say, before hesitating and falling silent.
Nobody spoke, as the implications of such a scenario were easy to understand. Jax and Benning grimaced at the thought, while Raynor thumbed on his comm.
"Tell me you got some good news, Matt."
Xxxx
Matt Horner winced as the Hyperion shuddered once more.
"Shields at fifty percent!" Lieutenant Hall cried out.
"Could be better." Matt Horner admitted, as Raynor scowled. "We've been pounding on them pretty hard, but they've got a lot of ships."
"How's the fleet holding up?"
"We've lost the Redoubtable to a reactor breach, and the Valiant's a cripple." Matt told him, his voice tense. "Cade! Cut starboard thrusters, over-compensate with port, roll the shields."
Lieutenant Cade typed away furiously at his console, cycling fresh shields into place as the Hyperion twisted in space, presenting her well-armored belly to the bird fleet as she weaved and twisted to avoid enemy fire.
By the time Matt glanced back up at Jim's holographic portrait, Jim had cut the signal, his holographic portrait fading away quickly.
Matt let out a quick breath of relief at Jim's understanding – multi-tasking while in combat was a bad idea, and Jim could see that Matt needed as few distractions as possible.
Fighting the birds was different from normal Terran naval tactics, which usually took place at distances ranging from one light-second to five hundred kilometers, which was considered knife-fighting range, due to the range of laser weaponry.
The birds had clearly realized that, because they were pressing at extremely close range, with their fleets barely one hundred kilometers apart, to deny the Terrans that advantage.
Worse, Matt couldn't increase that distance without giving the birds orbital supremacy, which would spell death for Jim and his ground forces.
Inspecting the chart again, Matt looked at the intel report on Tango-Four, the largest enemy vessel. It was a long, hulking thing, easily a kilometer long, with a truly massive spinal mount.
From the power of the kinetic strikes it was putting out, Swann had thrown out a ballpoint guesstimate that the spinal mount ran the entire length of the dreadnought, as Swann had hesitantly classified it.
The Redoubtable had tried to move closer and draw its fire away from the Hyperion, only for the damn thing to move around like something a tenth of it's mass and blast the Redoubtable to pieces with incredibly precise strikes, until it had destabilized the Redoubtable's reactor, resulting in a catastrophic detonation.
Captain Henderson hadn't even managed to start evacuations before the core destabilized, and the few escape pods that had jettisoned were caught in the blast wave.
The Redoubtable had gone down with all hands, eight thousand personnel.
"Bombardment arrays are to target Tango-Four when they come into range. Normal batteries are to continue hammering Tango-Three and Seven." Matt ordered, as the enormous Tango-Four fired again.
The bombardment arrays were one of Swann's modifications, and were purpose-designed for orbital bombardment. In a pinch, they could be used for extremely close-range combat in space, though their energy output wasn't as high as the batteries.
"The Shogoki just ionized Tango-Eight!" Lieutenant Cade reported. "They're stuck on a ballistic course, heading away from Shanxi's orbit."
"Tango-Three just went to FTL!" Hall called out, as Matt caught one last glimpse of the damaged and fleeing cruiser before it vanished via the birds' version of FTL-travel.
"That makes ten." Matt murmured to himself, as he keyed open the comm. "Swann, can we pull off another tac-jump?"
"Yeah, Matt, but I wouldn't risk a second one," the heavy-set engineer replied, his brow gleaming with sweat. "We just replaced one coolant line, and we don't have any more spares in storage. It's your choice, flyboy."
Matt thought about it for a second, while another shudder ran through the ship.
"We're doing it. Swann, get your engineers to keep that reactor stable, no matter what. Hall, give me a link to Bucephalus, Ragnarak, and Jackson's Revenge."
Three faces flashed into existence above the chart, but Matt didn't bother to look at them as his gloved hands poked at the hologram, designating positions around the dreadnought.
"David, Louis, Sebastian, we need to take out Tango-Four immediately." Matt explained, as he transmitted the coordinates.
"We're going to pull a tactical warp-jump, then fire everything at that dreadnought. That spinal mount won't be of as much of a threat if we can get around it, but you'll need to do a lot of fast maneuvers to keep out of its firing arc. Understood?"
"Understood," they repeated, the two male voices not able to disguise the unmistakable third voice, a female one.
Matt glanced up, seeing a woman's face in place of Louis's.
"Captain Martin's dead, sir," the woman reported with a grimace of pain, a line of blood dripping from a cut on her head. "We had an internal explosion when one of the old Confederate power couplings failed, with three casualties. We're still combat-capable."
"Understood." Matt nodded. "Do him proud, Captain Shepard."
"Ragnarak's hungry for revenge, sir." Shepard replied, her face set in harsh determination. "We won't let you down."
"Jumping on my mark." Matt announced, shifting his gaze to his antique wind-up wristwatch. "Three, two, one, Mark!"
Reality bent and twisted, stars streaming past the Hyperion's viewing screens as Matt's stomach lurched. The sensation enveloped his body, until Reality reasserted itself with a snap of acceleration as the Hyperion reappeared in space aft of the dreadnought.
"All batteries, open fire!" Matt barked. "Status of the Yamato Cannon?"
"Ninety percent charged, sir!"
"Good enough – Fire!"
Matt watched, breath held tight in his chest, as the Yamato blast slammed into the enemy vessel, ripping a searing gash into the hull, right around the midsection, and leaving an ugly scar on the alien ship's plating.
"We've got him!" Matt whispered to himself, clenching a fist.
But then the dreadnought shifted, its silhouette stretching out for a split-second, before it vanished. The few remaining alien vessels followed suit, fleeing into FTL.
"Skipper, all enemy vessels have fled the system!" Hall reported quickly, as Matt stared at the tactical chart, his fists now clenched in rage. "The ionized cruiser is still present, but it'll take thirty minutes of sub-light to decelerate enough to catch up to it."
Matt didn't respond, instead watching as the twin Yamato blasts from the Bucephalus and the Ragnarak soared in space, without a target in sight.
Sighing, Matt unbuttoned the top clasp on his stifling greatcoat and reached for a flask. He lifted it up to his lips, but paused before he could drink, setting the flask aside as he stared at the tactical chart. With the press of a few buttons, he signaled every ship in the system, plus Jim.
Six holo-portraits greeted him, every face looking relieved save for Captain Abernathy, who was stuck aboard the crippled Valiant.
"You've all heard it by now; the birds have left." Matt stated directly, charging straight into the conversation. "Priority is on the ground forces they left behind, so I'm splitting up the fleet. Bucephalus, Ragnarak, and Shogoki, you're to descend to the planet and provide close support for Jim. Katsuragi, I want you to park that oversized dropship of yours inside the starport, drop the invasion ramp, and take that starport."
"From what our infil specialists are tellin' me, that's where the birds transmissions are comin' from." Raynor chipped in. "David, Sebastian, transfer whatever ground forces you have left over to the Shogoki, those troops'll be better used taking our their high command."
"In the mean time, I'll take Swann and the Hyperion over to assist the Valiant. Sebastian, you're going to secure that ionized cruiser. Board it, and secure as many prisoners as you can." Matt ordered, as he felt long delayed fatigue start to set in.
"I'll keep my ground troops, then." Sebastian commented, making Matt shake his head wearily.
"Sorry, I didn't think about that." Matt admitted, rubbing his forehead. "You're right, of course. In that case, I'll transfer over whatever troops I have left to you. The Valiant and the disabled cruiser are on roughly the same heading, so I'll send the shuttles over en route."
"Boys an' girls, we've done good work today." Raynor said. "We've lost a lot of people, and while we can't forget that fact, we've also got to keep our heads up. Sebastian, tell your boys that I want those birds alive. No executions, no beating surrendering prisoners. You read me?"
"Understood, Commander."
"Well then, let's get to it."
Xxxx
It was silent in the command post. The rapid-fire click-clack of talons on keyboards had stopped, and nobody said a word.
General Kuril just stared blankly at the main display, which had a small red dot in the corner, indicating a priority message.
Quietly, Kuril stepped closer to the display, gently pushing aside the aide who normally manned the control board.
As his talons stretched out to play the message, another taloned hand stopped his.
"Sir," Captain Denarius whispered, his face downcast. "You have to play it in private, sir. You know the regulations – priority messages are for the commanding officer only."
Kuril tilted his head, indicating that he had heard Denarius, but he pressed the button anyway.
Turian regulations listed a number of good reasons for that restriction: possibility of infiltrators, possibility of moral loss, need-to-know information, and so on.
Of course, like any rule, there was always a way to exploit it – due to the regulations, that meant that General Oraka's explanation about why he had abandoned Kuril and his men would not be heard by the men he had left to die on this Spirits-forsaken world.
It meant that Oraka's shame wouldn't be exposed to the men.
So Kuril pressed the button, expanding the image of Oraka's nervous face, and played the message for the entire command center to hear.
"To General Kuril, Commanding Officer of the Twelfth Division of the glorious Turian Hierarchy, I hereby pass formal Command Authority concerning the affairs of the Relay 314 incident to you."
Every single turian in the room was still, muscles tightened in distaste at the legalese that Oraka had employed.
He even dreamed up a name for this cluster-fuck, Kuril thought to himself distantly.
That sanctimonious asshole.
"To prevent the loss of the entirety of the Sixth Expedition Fleet, I must withdraw from this Theater of War. As Commanding Officer of the Sixth Expedition Fleet, I must warn you that the unknown species identified as 'Terrans' will take no prisoners, and so you must give them no prisoners."
Captain Denarius stared, horrified and dumbstruck, at the recorded image of Oraka's face.
At the starport's Terran control panel across the room, Adrien Victus tightened his grip on the back on his commandeered Terran chair, his talons stabbing viciously into the seat, though his face was emotionless.
"To that effect, I am hereby forced by extenuating circumstances to Order you to Give no Surrender, as the Terrans will not Accept it. I will pass on the dreadful news to the families of your soldiers. Fight on, knowing that I will return will the full force of the Turian Hierarchy to avenge the loss of you and your men. For the Hierarchy."
As the message ended, Kuril let out a protracted sigh, aware that every eye on the room was on him.
"Commander Victus, prepare to transmit a response." Kuril said, his words tight and controlled.
"General Kuril, the Fleet has left the system. They won't be able to receive the message." Commander Adrien Victus stated, his voice similarly controlled, though Kuril could detect Adrien's unstated plea of please, don't do this.
"Message starts," Kuril stated, ignoring Victus. "To General Oraka: message received, and refused."
The aides and technicians in the room gasped, jaws dropping in shock as Kuril continued speaking, untouched by their shudders of horror at what they were witnessing.
"You have killed enough of my men today, Oraka. I hereby declare you unfit for duty, and charge you with cowardice, incompetence, and high treason." Kuril continued, his voice calm and unhurried. "Message ends."
As the soldiers in the room stared at Kuril, only one of them moved.
Laying his hand on Kuril's shoulder, Adrien Victus nodded to his General.
"As General Kuril's second in command, I agree with his assessment, and endorse his decision."
Turian discipline was too tight for the men in that room to start shouting like a gang of rowdy children, but Kuril could tell that his men's discipline was about to snap.
"Get me a blanket comm. signal." Kuril demanded, the bark of command in his voice snapping his men out of their shock. "I want everyone on this rock to hear me."
"Done, sir." the comm. technician said, saluting formally.
"Forces of the Turian Hierarchy, as your Commanding Officer, I hereby order you to stand down and surrender. I repeat, stand down and surrender to the Terrans, in as large groups as you can gather. There is to be no resistance to the Terrans, or I fear that we shall all be killed."
Finishing his broadcast, Kuril dropped his comm. unit and took one last look around the room, at all the disheartened turian troopers slumping at their posts.
Officers were supposed to encourage their troops, not dishearten them.
And even if he was soon to be branded the biggest shame in the history of the Hierarchy, General Kuril was still an officer.
"Commander Victus," Kuril said, turning to his loyal second in command. "Make sure my broadcast goes down correctly on the official record, please. I'd hate for history to get it wrong."
Victus chuckled, and after a moment of pause, Kuril joined in, followed shortly by the rest of the men in the command center, all chuckling at something that wasn't funny at all.
Across the city, turian soldiers began to lay down their guns and surrender before the Terrans, ending the long day of fighting for the little dirtball called Shanxi.