HOME | DD

Description
Playing Offense.

The world was a blur of light and muffled sound. I could hardly feel my fingers, let alone figure out what had just happened. In the span of a couple seconds, the world had gone all fucked up. My entire body ached, and every movement sent lashes of pain up my spine. Echoes of color danced across my eyesight, like a hellish wonderland.

"Hanks! Hanks!"

The muffled shouts and chatter of gunfire slowly started to chase away the deafness and blindness. The light slowly readjusted itself into a hazy red sky, and I realized I was lying on my back. There was a voice calling me, vaguely familiar. It repeated again and again, a mechanized voice letting me know time was standing still as it called me back. The pain reverberated through my entire body, muscles threatening to tear at any moment.

"Hanks!"

The blur faded every time the voice spoke to me. Slowly the world came into focus, the sky faded to orange. My arms and legs slowly came to life as if by clockwork, moving without direction. I staggered to my feet, and looked over, to the voice calling me. There was a man there, wearing a black suit, he was carrying a rifle, that glowed blue around the barrel. The mechanized voice screeched at me again, filtered sound through the mask and helmet he wore.

"Get into cover you fuckhead!"

He screamed, and a peppering of gunfire made me duck behind a nearby concrete barrier.

I remembered now, a missile strike from a passing gunship. Blew us to pieces, I was on the outside of the formation, made sense now why I was still breathing. Smith, he was the man shouting at me, bringing me back after the hit.

My eyes darted rapidly back and forth, taking in the street around me. Blown out storefronts gaped black and menacing in the coming dusk, shadows hidden from the slowly darkening orange sky. Around me the street had been obliterated. Cars were scattered across the road in various states, some perfectly pristine, some blackened husks. Concrete barriers and what looked like construction markers were scattered everywhere, attempting to direct the now empty cars away from the war-zone.

I was suddenly myself again, recalling everything. As I pieced together the last minute of my life, Smith exchanged fire with something further up the street. Bright blue flashes from his plasma rifle lit up the dark storefronts for brief moments, bolts of blue energy arcing away beyond my vision past the barrier. Every so often he'd be forced to duck back as gunfire would come back at him, bullets or blue plasma slashing into the planter on the sidewalk he was hunkered behind.

Nearby, behind us, the rest of our squad lay in various states of death and dying. Only Smith had escaped completely, noticing the Gloria before it had wheeled about to fire. I watched a young man named Jason bleed out as he grasped vaguely at the air above him. I don't think he even knew he was gone before it was too late. He stopped moving and I winced as he went prone, rasping in one final breath into tattered lungs and then gently sighing, the same breath slowly leaving his form in a final moment.

I risked a glance out where Smith was firing, realizing I was weaponless at the same moment.

The G.O.D. Shocktrooper squad that had deployed from the gunship, the same Gloria that had fired the missile, was now advancing up the street directly ahead of us, and with only me and Smith in fighting condition, it didn't look good from my angle. The Gloria lifted off and vanished over the rooftops, but the fact that I had neglected to grab my rifle before I ducked into cover didn't make things any easier. Their white armor was easily visible in the lingering light, and the bright green eyes on their menacing combat suits only enhanced their forms as they advanced.

I noticed a bigger form hidden behind their formation, but didn't have time to verify what it was, as another burst of gunfire, bullets this time, arced my way from the frontrunners.

"Tactical this is Eclipse-Thirty-Six, we have engaged an enemy Gloria on cross streets Wallington and Trutch! Only me and Hanks are left, and he's fucking shellshocked! Please advise!"

If there was a reply, I couldn't hear it, as my helmet was gone. I had opted for a full headcover helmet, an advanced piece of technology with a full heads up display and assorted targeting and computer equipment. Smith had been smarter, taking just the visor and gas mask. While I was now near useless without comms, friend or foe, or even head protection, his visor and gas mask were strapped to his head firmly, and he had better vision to boot.

Weaponless, Helmetless, and without a gre....

"SMITH! Get down! Grenade up the street!"

Smith instinctively hunkered down behind the planter he was huddled behind, and I pulled the tag from the red and black colored ball I had pulled from my belt. It began beeping and I hurled it up the street towards the soldiers moving towards us as hard as I could.

There was a muffled cry as the soldiers noticed it flying towards them, and they scrambled for cover in the crowded street. A couple managed to hide behind abandoned cars, but as the grenade detonated in a flash of red light and force, the enemy squad was easily cut in half.

"Hanks, grab your fucking gun!"

Smith yelled at me, and took the chance to throw a grenade of his own, not quite as effective at killing the Shocktroopers, but enough of a distraction that it gave me a chance to move.

"Down to one!"

He shouted my way, letting me know his energy cell supply, and I bolted to where I had been lying, scraping my damaged plasma rifle off the street and slamming into cover behind a car with tinted windows. One energy cell would easily last him hundreds if not thousands of rounds, but Resistance infantry like us only usually carried a maximum of 4 of the tiny blue canisters. I checked my own supply: 2 of the cells carefully packed and sealed in pockets on the left side of my hip.

Above us, the sky flashed and ignited, enormous battlecruisers duking it out over air superiority. Luckily for us, none launched any attack groundward. The city itself was apparently too valuable to risk damaging.

The soldiers advanced again, catching my attention, and despite their reduced number, I now saw the reason for their determination. A lanky Seraph powersuit, obviously the squad leader, the form I had seen previously. It relentlessly pounded plasma bolt after plasma bolt our way from a lethal looking high tech rifle it wielded with only it's right arm, steadily advancing and now in the front of the survivors, leading the remaining Troopers.

"Smith! I have no helmet! Give me a Tango count!"

Normally our G.R.A. Shocktrooper suits would track enemy targets as well as friendlies in the field, marking them with green and red indicators based on eye movement and firing patterns. But without my helmet synching to the suit, I had no way of seeing the indicators, or even knowing if somebody had replied to Smith's calls for help. I was now centuries behind in terms of soldier efficiency.

"Five Troopers! One Seraph!"

Shit. Two to Six, and the latter of that number was probably capable of taking out an entire squad of Troopers like us WITHOUT help.

"FUCK!"

I screamed, and began wildly blind-firing, determined to both stop their advance and attempt to survive by whatever means possible. My rifle complained against the action, sparking and sending small arcs of blue energy down the barrel. The missile strike had hit it hard, and there was no guarantee it would work for much longer.

The action itself was futile, apparently. With a carefully targeted round, the Seraph opened fire on my exposed weapon after it moved out of the way of the inaccurate shots, and by the time I had yanked it back, the barrel had been warped and twisted by the superheated plasma he had launched back. My only weapon had been rendered effectively useless.

"My weapon's out!"

I yelled over to Smith, and primed my last of the two grenades, flinging it up the street in some attempt to stall the inevitable.

They were prepared this time though, having taken sufficient cover, and after the explosion rocked the street and the chaos had subsided, they advanced again, pushing their way ever closer. They were now within a hundred feet, and they took advantage of their range, picking shots more carefully.

A few of the G.O.D. Troopers were using kinetic weapons, and steel slugs began chipping away at my cover, forcing me to lunge to my right, behind a newer model car. It wasn't long before the windows on this one were gone as well, matching many others on the street.

Smiths began getting flanked, and he got to his feet and started falling back, only to be shot in the chest three times, the plasma bolts burning through his armor and causing him to scream out in agony before collapsing in a heap.

Knowing I had no weapon now, and assuming I had used up all my grenades, they moved in for the kill. The Seraph led the way, pushing forward and charging my position. I staggered to my feet, wincing at the pain that suddenly shot through my left shoulder, and noticed blood trickling down my arm.

"FUCK!"

The bullet had pierced right through the vulnerable joint piece, and exited out the other side. I kept running, weaving in and out of the now motionless traffic as the entire enemy force hailed plasma and gunfire down the street towards me.

I kept running, but knew it was too late. There was a thudding of heavy footsteps, and something heavy slammed into my back, sending me sprawling onto my stomach on the hard concrete.

"No prisoners."

The voice behind me was mechanical as well, although it was a deeper more altered sound. I rolled onto my back, gasping for air through the pain that now shot through both my back and my shoulder. My matte black armor glistened with the fresh blood coating my entire left arm and most of my torso, and I stared up into the form of the Seraph, the power suit's 6 glowing green eyes piercing into me.

I froze, as he pulled a long handle off his back, casually grabbing it with two hands and slapping a tab  near the hilt. Energy flared from the handle, a long simple beam of glowing white light.

"You killed my men with that grenade, and now I get to kill you up close and personal."

He raised the plasma weapon over his head, the Seraph armor's servos softly whining, and I closed my eyes, listening to the far off chatter of artillery and gunfire. If I was going to die, I was going to die with dignity, not screaming for my life like some coward. It's the least I could do.

The thought crossed my mind why I had even chose to join the Resistance, but just as I was starting to consider it, there was a sharp hiss, and my eyes snapped open, to see the plasma weapon fall from the Seraph's hands and sink itself into the street on my right side, terrifyingly close to my shoulder.

Protruding from the Seraph's torso was a long curved metal blade, wreathed in blue energy. It hissed loudly as the energy helped the blade slice through the heavy armor plating, technology, and flesh and bone of the man inside, working it's way upward to the Seraph's throat, and then withdrawing.

The Seraph gurgled, the suit distorting it into a mechanical blur, and a large metal hand shoved the enormous figure to the side, letting it collapse in a heap, blood seeping from the clean cut at it's center.

"Good to see I'm not too late."

The cyborg spoke the words calmly, his right robotic lens flickering briefly as it registered my wounds.

"Sir... I..."

He smiled a beleaguered smile.

"It's okay Hanks, you did what you could."

I wondered how he knew my name, but I suddenly answered my own question. To him and his half technological body, the friend and foe network would have labeled me as a green marker, with my name and rank easily shown. My lack of a helmet had set me back.

"Let's get you patched up enough to move, Hanks, you can get me up to date as we do."

I looked around for the other enemies, but they had all but disappeared, except for the body of one that lay about 30 feet distant, a smoking hole in the middle of his stomach. They must have fled rather than face down the leader of the Resistance.

To many he was known as X-1, the first of the Xex project, a top secret and highly funded G.O.D. Initiative to build a creature capable of assassinating Xex, the defected god of control and leader of the Black Armada. Not to say the G.O.D had the wrong idea, but apparently gifting a test tube grown and cybernetic equipped warrior with a conscience had been a bad idea on their part. It wasn't long before the newly renamed Precaution chose to defect himself, forming a Resistance army backed by those hoping to get rid of the tyranny of both superhuman groups.

Part of my choice to join the God Resistance Army had been based on stories I had heard of his actions, how he would fight with the last lines of defense if it meant saving his soldier's lives. I doubt Serania or Xex would ever do that for their underlings. And now he was here in person, saving my sorry ass from an otherwise unavoidable execution. I was shocked to say the least.

He salvaged what medical supplies he could from the bodies of the fallen, and wrapped my shoulder loosely in enough medical glaze to stop the blood loss while my combat skin started pumping healing and painkilling drugs into my system. As he patched me up, I filled him in on the attack, mentioned my lack of weapon, and requested orders. I tried to do this with as straight a face as possible, but failed at several points, wincing or gasping. The painkiller in the medical glaze was good, but not good enough to completely eliminate the pain from a gaping hole in my shoulder.

"Well, looks like that Seraph was packing some nice gear, you can grab his gun, although the polearm looks to be too heavy for you. No offense, but a Grah Shocktrooper isn't quite melee weapon material. Use two hands."

He looked up at the sky, his gaze locking on to one of the G.O.D. Ships floating over the city.

"As for orders... We still need to push the Guardians out of the entertainment district and secure the Warehouses and industrial areas along this side of the river. It's why the G.O.D. Still has air support, they're using the riverside shipyards as a secure landing zone to offload heavies. Hopefully without anywhere to land troops, they'll get the hell out of the skies, and we can take any ground encampment out with our fliers without worrying about interference."

I nodded, and staggered over to where the Seraph had fallen. The lanky power armor was lying in a pool of blood, but aside from the clean slit in it's abdomen, none of the gore was visible. I glanced down the street at where my dead squad lay, often in several pieces, and grimaced.

The Seraph's rifle was lighter than I expected, and I easily hefted it with both hands, popping out the nearly spent energy cell and replacing it with one I scavenged from the fallen. Precaution too had scavenged a couple energy cells, loading them into small ports on his forearms. The cyborg was tough, but despite his weaponized design he still needed ammo to fire his guns with.

I moved to him after I had grabbed Smith's visor, relatively unscathed from his body. I didn't grab his gas mask, though. It had filled with blood after Smith got shot. Obviously a result of the three blackened gaping holes in his chest.

I hobbled over to Precaution, and he looked me over, smiling at my exhausted posture but stern expression.

"Thank you, Sir. I'd have been dead without your help."

My words came easily for one who had been staring down death only a few minutes prior, and he smiled again politely in return, patting my shoulder with an enormous metal hand.

"I'm not the kind of commander that sits on the rear lines waiting for his men to win the war for him Hanks. I'm out here doing what I can. It just makes sense in my head to be out here."

I glowed at the statement, full of admiration for the man, vowing to thank him properly somehow if I survived this invasion. Doubt flickered through my mind: The G.O.D. Wanted this world, Bellis, badly as a major source of production and industry. The fighting had been restricted to the capital, Fairview, thus far, but if the Gods got desperate, there was no telling what they might attempt. I managed to push the doubt out of my mind with questions about Precaution as we moved through wartorn streets and looted shopping malls.

Bellis was a large world. The urban gangs had pushed back when the G.O.D. first occupied it, and were dealt with harshly as payback. My squad had already passed several rotting corpses before the attack, and me and the commander passed several more as we moved. The corpses were posed crucifixion style, an attempt to deter further uprising. In my mind's eye I had expected to see ghastly images of crows or ravens feasting on the bodies, so to see pigeons pecking away at faces and fingers was unsettling at least.

I never asked any of my questions out loud, but somehow Precaution managed to answer them anyways at every opportunity. We encountered tens upon tens of refugees, forced from their homes due to the fighting, and every time I expected him to be cold and callous, he proved me wrong, showing nothing but compassion to them. When they were repulsed by his partially robotic body, he prodded them into conversation, asking them where they had come from, telling them where they could seek shelter, and which routes were safe, cleared by the G.R.A. Forces attempting to retake the city. He would watch them as they dragged their last few worldly possessions back the way we had come, making sure that as long as he could do so, they would be protected.

I finally had to pipe up after the umpteenth group.

"Sir, I know this is a Resistance support world, but you don't owe these people anything. Why are we wasting time helping every single group we come across? Don't we have somewhere to be?"

He looked at me with indifference for a moment, and then sighed.

"The whole reason we're fighting this war is to free these people from the tyranny of both the Gods, and from Xex. Every time we open our mouths and say something, we're talking to another human being, somebody who loves, thinks, feels, and acts Hanks. We can't treat them as obstacles in all this. The minute we start treating them merely as resources or mindless slaves like the Armada, or gullible puppets like the G.O.D., we're making them distrust us. You have to win trust."

The more he talked, the more I liked him. He seemed to have a valid reason for everything he did, as if he had been contemplating his actions for years. The more he explained, the more I felt obligated to follow him. By the time we reached the red light district, I was sure I'd die for him if I needed to. He had completely rekindled my faith in the cause which had been on the verge of oblivion along with myself only a few hours earlier.

"The city is relatively unscathed in terms of infrastructure."

Precaution noted as the last few minutes of daylight wore out, and the red light district flared to life. Streetlights slowly snapped on, bathing us in a yellow-orange glow, and neon signs of all shapes and colors surged into being on the buildings above us. Every manner of commodity and service was advertised around us, from shampoo to fast food to high scale prostitution.

The refugees had grown in number now, fleeing from the adjacent residential areas; and were funneling through the pedestrian only streets we currently walked on. We were the only two figures walking towards the bright flashes of artillery and the beams of searchlights in the opposite direction. Luckily for us, people gave us a wide berth, fearing any interaction with two military operatives clearly on the opposite side from that which had driven them from their homes. The looks on their faces said it all. Something horrific was chasing them, and I could only wonder in terror at what G.O.D. Force could make them flee so quickly.

As we moved, the crowds thinned, but we got closer to the center of the Entertainment district. The neon signs were thicker, the storefronts were untouched, and some people were openly looting as much as they possibly could even while their peers fled for their lives. Every so often we'd catch a glimpse of a shape rustling in an alley, and once we noted the crunching of bones and tearing of flesh coming from behind a dumpster.

"Looks like the G.O.D. Is using first stage beasts to scare the civilians away from their military centers."

The way Precaution mentioned it so casually made me question my own fear, pondering if I might be stupid for fearing the genetically engineered monsters. Beasts were the epitome of horror, the offspring of a purely organic bio-weapon originally intended to be Precaution's replacement. While the original X-2 was fully sentient, it's newborns evolved in stages depending on drugs introduced during term inside normal humans, and thus both the G.O.D. and Armada after capturing and breeding the initial children had capitalized on their voracious hunger and savagery, deploying them in open warzones.

The commander was fearless, it seemed.

"Beasts are hardly the least of our worries. Despite some of them being evolved to the second stage and becoming a tad more intelligent, the vast majority of them are just dumb animals. They prey on anything and everything moving for breeding and feeding, but they're not smart enough to focus in on a tough meal when there's easier prey. Just so you know though Hanks, we're saving anybody we can from being attacked outright."

I shivered, but nodded my consent. Luckily for me, we failed to see any more attacks, and as the crowds lessened, so did the sounds and evidence of beasts. What Precaution said was true, it seemed they were more fond of the easy to catch refugees than well armed soldiers moving through the middle of an open street.

"Alfred checked the sat images, he's marked two G.O.D. Troopers guarding a checkpoint up ahead Hanks, you ready for combat?"

I gave a thumbs up, and we went silent, me checking the high tech rifle I had been packing for the second time. It glowed green on several parts in designs I understood, but the sight was calibrated for  too little zoom for my tastes. Obviously the loosely dangling fiber optic cord from the stock was designed to integrate into the Seraph's power armor, and the rifle was stuck on the zoom the previous owner was using earlier. I'd be a long range support, apparently.

It made sense.

I didn't have light plasma shielding like my cyborg superior, and plasma weapons, despite being weak against some targets and having a slower firing rate, were definitely quieter than their kinetic bullet spewing counterparts. A plasma based sniper weapon could be deadly in the hands of a professional.

We took to the back alleys and storefronts, keeping mostly to the shadows and masking our approach as best we could. The sounds of battle were drawing nearer, and I knew the Resistance forces must be closing in on the Guardians now attempting to fall back to their Landing Zone. We had been behind our own lines before, but now we were drawing dangerously close to the enemy line. Hopefully it meant we could regroup with other squads from our side, rather than the opposite, being overwhelmed by G.O.D. Defenders.

"There they are, a security checkpoint. One Shocktrooper scanning the fleeing refugees, the other watching for anything coming from our side. We'll need to take him out first before he or his partner can let the rest of the G.O.D. know we're headed their way."

Precaution was obviously fully capable of picking up on the simple implications of alerting the enemy, something I had just completely blanked out on, assuming we'd just run in guns blazing. Basic training was just a blur when faced with an enemy unaware of our position.

"The bulk of our Resistance forces are nearing the entertainment district. The area is about to become a hostile open fire zone as the G.O.D. Moves to intercept."

This voice came from Precaution, but it was synthesized, a fake male voice from somewhere inside Precaution's body. No introduction was needed, I guessed it's identity by the rumors I had heard.

Alfred, the only class 7 A.I. In existence who called Precaution his home. In exchange for somewhere to keep himself, Alfred acted as a constant data hound for his host, sifting through enormous amounts of information on the battlefield situation, cybernetic threats, and other jobs Precaution's organic brain simply couldn't keep up with. He streamlined the process, feeding the G.R.A leader only what might be useful or urgent.

"I've put out a bulletin to nearby squads noting Commander X-1 as operating in the district, but neglected to give our location due to possible intercept by the enemy."

I shook my head, bringing me back from daydreams about what it might be like to have another personality or another being sharing a body with me. I checked my weapon for the third time, and carefully followed as Precaution took point, weaving his way through any and every piece of viable cover he could use. When he was within range of the two Shocktroopers, he wasted no time.

"Sir?"

I whispered over comms, but he chose not to reply, simply vanishing from view as he engaged his personal cloaking device. I sighted the two enemies, ready to take a shot if need be, but it was pointless. Before I could blink, the two Shocktroopers lay dead on the ground, quickly dispatched by his two curved energized blades.

His capability in the battlefield was making me admire him far more than I probably should. I decided to be more aloof in my actions for fear of letting it show.

"Echo-Three-Seven, all Resistance on Yeming St., this is EXO team Fringe, making our way directly towards the Guardian lines. We could use some infantry cover to blow a hole in the blockade."

The comms was filtered to my visor by Alfred, making me wonder how much control he could have
over our forces, but a quick wave forward by Precaution immediately changed our course.

"We're going loud Hanks, I think that EXO team might be our best bet at cracking through the Guardians quickly. All our other heavy options are still a half hour behind."

Precaution had obviously heard the message too, as we made a break for Yeming St. a few blocks over. No sooner had we jogged to a stop into the intersection than the rhythmic thudding of heavy machinery footsteps came into earshot. The EXO team was careful, sweeping every alley and intersection, as if expecting an RPG to fly from anywhere. When they spotted us up the street they quickened their pace, coming to a halt just a few feet away from where we stood.

"Lieutenant Kenning, Commander. We saw Alfred's bulletin, didn't expect to see you so soon into playing offense."

Precaution moved over to Kenning's Exoskeleton and patted his armored hand against it's leg plating.

"Well we're the infantry cover you requested Lieutenant. You and your three man cell are going to let me and Hanks here take point, to make sure there aren't any Sentinels, snipers, or other surprises waiting for you."

The twenty foot tall Exoskeleton straightened up and saluted, an awkward motion, and we started off again down the street.

No sooner had we traveled exactly 4 blocks than the first MTG round slammed into the thick armor plating of the EXO on the left of our formation. It staggered backwards, a hole blown deep into it's left breastplate.

"SENTINEL, 4TH FLOOR! FIRE ESCAPE!"

Precaution had spotted the thick power armor the minute it's shimmer cloak had dropped to let it fire the round. The sentinel was an enormous bulky thing, with a weapon so massive it dwarfed even the arms of the Sentinel itself. The damn gun was easily the length of my entire body, and almost twice as thick.

"MTG! EXOs, take cover in the alleys!"

An MTG was a bad sign. The damn thing was in essence the same technology of railgun that most starships used. Despite being a smaller scale, the thing could easily punch right through the Exoskeleton's thick armor plating. Only G.O.D. Sentinels used them for the most part, stationary cloaked and heavily armored sniper suits. The recoil of the gun alone was enough to throw anything else back a couple feet.

"OPEN FIRE!"

Lieutenant Kenning's order came miliseconds after I had begun to pull the trigger, peppering the fire escape somewhere between the third and fourth floor with bright lime green plasma. The rifle bucked viciously even as I fired it with both hands, and where the plasma connected with the metal of the escape, it melted away, groaning and twisting red hot.

My rounds were soon followed by fire from Precaution, both arms raised and blue bolts of plasma streaming from the twin barrels on each forearmm previously retracted into mysterious storage cavities. The sentinel flashed as it returned fire, and the already wounded EXO on the left found itself punched full of more holes from railgun rounds.

The Sentinel pilot's aim was true, and the last round from the Sentinel proved itself pointless, as the pilot's remains became visible through the gaping hole in the center of the chest. The final round pierced through the Exoskeleton's upper thigh, bringing it to a lurching halt.

The two other EXO suits pulled into the alley on the right side of the street, leaving their dead comrade where he remained.

The Sentinel, having dealt with one out of 5 possible targets, chose to deal with us: the infantry support. Even as the green plasma bolts from my stolen Seraph gun peppered it's heavily armored form, melting away it's plating, it continued to dish out punishment our way. MTG round after MTG round forced me to duck and weave from car to car and streetpost to streetpost. Precaution barely seemed to move, as Alfred calculated every round headed his way, only making him sidestep to the sides as he escaped the Sentinel's eerily accurate fire.

My plasma bolts finally seemed to force the Sentinel into submission, as the green energy melted through the final layer of armor and cooked the soldier inside. The Sentinel flickered into view, sparks bouncing from the new hole leading from the street to the inside of the unit.

The two remaining EXOs emerged from their hiding place as the enemy target disappeared from their friend and foe systems.

"Hence why we asked for Infantry support commander, we're too big of targets for any cloaked defenses we run into. And it's not like we can take the rooftops like any light infantry can. We'd fall right through."

Kenning's suit turned slightly, observing the still form of his subordinate.

"Let's keep moving, and not let Frank's death be in vain."

The sound of other Resistance meeting G.O.D. Defenses came into earshot all at once, and mortars and anti-aircraft fire lit up the sky as we progressed deeper into Guardian territory.

Alfred shifted his focus from hiding our position with the nearby friendlies masking our presence, and suddenly comms dialogue filled my hearing.

"Aggies C-33 and FD-32 seeking friendlies for secure LZ"

"Fireteam Zulu moving up Detroit and Mississippi. Pressing hard!"

"Exosekeleton teams and airborne friendlies, this is Bertha D-98, watch the rooftops, god damn Sentinels are everywhere, almost got scuttled by RPG fire."

"The G.O.D. Line is steady at Charment and Sealine, requesting help to push their artillery."

"Echo-Thirty Eight, shoutout to all Resistance playing offense. Sensor lines from Jennings street onwards, they're watching us roll in Grahs."

"Eclipse Thirty-Six, about to push the line at Sealine, backing Echo-Three-Seven Fringe. All Grahs that can, move to assist."

The most recent comms dialogue was from Commander Precaution, his actual voice simultaneously echoing the refracted transmission of the bulletin. When he spoke, my visor lit up with an orange outline, implying it was a high ranking command.

"Didn't know you had that rank Eclipse, but this is Fireteam Jericho, we're about to hit Sealine and Detroit with Zulu, we've got your back."

Precaution sent them a confirmation, and we rounded the corner, finally finding a full on crossfire situation. I took cover behind Kenning, and the commander ducked behind Jake's EXO, the other survivor of Fringe. We pressed up, drawing intense amounts of infantry fire and the odd RPG.

"Rounding the corner now sir!"

Zulu and Jericho charged headlong into the fight, emerging into the open street and immediately ducking into the shattered sex shop on their left.

"A Machinegun nest on the hotel fork building directly ahead, and a heavily defended plaza exists beyond this line of apartments. Sandbag and other fortifications are numerous."

Alfred's bulletin was global, and soon other Grah units emerged, helping to thin the defenders. While their numbers generally consisted of Shocktroopers occupying the windows of the various apartments, and the machine gun nest was quickly dispatched by a heavy explosive round launched from Kenning, Several Seraphs moved through the building to counter us, blocking access to the streets ahead. The Seraphs took far more damage than their less equipped Troopers, and proved immovable to the point where even the two EXOs were forced back for fear of grenades or other explosives damaging their legs.

"Target painted, Grahs hold for strike."

There was a fearful moment where every Resistance fighter ducked for cover, and then a roar of engines sprang into being, quickly followed by a bright flash. The hotel building that had formerly housed the now defunct machinegun nest cracked and collapsed, broken by a missile strike. Within a couple of seconds, the engine roar was gone.

"J-44 heading back to the skies, good luck Eclipse."

The Justice pilot's voice clarified the explosion, and as the cloud of dust enveloped the street from the collapsing building, cutting power to many of the flashing billboards and bright neon lights, we pressed, pushing through the haze and towards the plaza now visible through the twisted rebar and broken concrete of the hotel. The apartment buildings on either side sagged from collateral damage, and bright rocket flashes overhead brought them down as well, further scattering the Seraphs and Shocktroopers still fighting.

I moved up, wincing at my wounded shoulder. I was scared, having lost sight of the commander and fearing that any minute Kenning would have his EXO blown to pieces by the Seraphs who could easily have thermal vision. In my haste, I stumbled right into the struggling upper torso of a Seraph. It was a woman, her helmet lost somewhere in the cloud and her lower half buried under an enormous piece of re-bar studded concrete.

I could tell some of the re-bar had pierced her suit, as her lips were tinged with blood, and her eyes were moving in rapid frantic movements. Even despite the gunfire all around us, she began screaming oaths against me and the Resistance, and cursing her failing power armor for not moving how she commanded it to.

I watched as she slowly realized how damaged she was, and as she tried feebly to heft the enormous concrete slab off her legs. By the time her armor had failed completely, she was thrashing her head around, sucking in air, ignoring the thick dust motes highlighted by the bright lights.

I watched as she coughed up fresh blood, shuddered, and finally went still, frozen in place as bright green, blue, and white flashes lit up the dust cloud around me.

A voice called me back to the world for a second time that night and a G.R.A. Shocktrooper emerged from the haze, pushing me to the side as he shouted for me to move out of his way.

I snapped to, firing haphazardly into the cloud and covering our advance. The Shocktroopers took note of my stolen gun and let me lead the way as the cloud settled, giving us our vision back. I quickly unloaded a steady stream of green plasma bolts into the head of another Seraph, reducing his head to a soupy mess, and dispatched a Shocktrooper perched at a 3rd floor windowsill, before my aching shoulder forced me back into cover.

Only a few enemies remained, a Seraph firing at us with a plasma rifle from a second story window, and a couple Shocktroopers desperately pouring round after round into our advancing line. They scored several kills, Resistance soldiers slumping over as rounds pierced or burned through their bodies, but were quickly put down themselves and the street went eerily quiet for  brief moment before the first mortar screamed over the debris pile of the hotel and hammered itself into the street, sending several men flying and spraying men more distant with rubble.

Some moved to tend the survivors, but others lay still, their limbs sprawled at impossible angles.

It was the commander who took hold of the situation again by roaring at those of us still breathing to press forward, and our air support began braving the anti-air and artillery batteries, Justice fixed wings striking where they could as before. An Agatha moved in over the rooftops behind us and slowly descended, both side doors locked open. The wounded were loaded into it, and a second followed, this one quickly boarded by the commander.

"HANKS! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!"

The commander was yelling at me to join him, and I sprinted to the Aggie, fearing more mortars would arc over the hump of the fallen building. Able bodied men began climbing the piles or circling around the streets to engage the Plaza, but Precaution motioned to the turret facing off out the right sliding door of the Agatha.

"You're going to covering our approach Hanks, and give me the opportunity to drop behind their guns. Don't be afraid to waste ammo, this bird just came down from The Tympanium."

He was referencing a battle-cruiser in the formation floating far overhead, and it made sense as to why the air support was suddenly becoming more available. The Agatha waited for a couple more troopers to hop in, one of them taking the left side gun, and the other moving to the rear to spot, and then slowly lifted off, gaining height and moving over the rubble pile.

"Beyond the plaza is the commerce building, and not too much farther after that are the dockyards and ports the Guardians are using to unload their armor. If we can push the commerce building it'll give us a hole to push our own heavies through and take their LZ. It'll fold inwards from there!"

As we cleared the rubble pile, flak guns and mortars suddenly began exploding all around us. Other transports and gunships were following our leads, and several took immediate hits, but it looked like we would easily overwhelm whoever was taking aim at us with sheer numbers. There would be no way that they could possibly fend us off.

"We're losing transports, sir!"

The pilot was a little worried, to say the least, as fellow Aggies and Tabbies exploded into flames across the skyline. The city center, a towering mass of skyscrapers, lay to our close east, separating the bulk of the two fleets from each other, but the G.O.D. Knew it was starting to lose the defensive. Battlecruisers were moving across Fairview, all converging on our location.

"Our forces are bunching up, we're about to break the line."

Plasma bolts streamed across our opposite side suddenly, and the gunner yelped and lost his grip on the gun that was keeping him steady as one connected with his forearm, burning half through it. The trooper spotting us pitched out a hand, but it was already too late, as the man slipped off the edge of the Aggie, falling to the ground several stories below.

The commander looked away from where the man hit the ground, but took the man's turret himself, gritting his teeth and motioning for the two pilots to gain altitude.

"Oh fuck..."

The spotter murmured, and suddenly the sky erupted in the loudest sound I had ever heard.

The Battlecruiser closest to us had angled itself slightly, and with an intense light, had unleashed it's secondary weapons downwards into the city itself.

Our fleet's response was almost immediate, and the sky suddenly became a secondary battle zone, as the fleets moved to engage each other in-atmosphere.

"The G.O.D. Is pulling a scorched earth!"

The pilot's words were hardly necessary. The Guardians knew they had lost the ground battle, so instead of wait to recall their troops and attempt a retreat, the religious-bent admiral of this fleet had ordered his fleet to kill both their own men and ours in an attempt to achieve some bloody equivalent of a draw.

The air reverberated and a bright blue beam suddenly sent our air forces spiraling out of control as it sailed past us several kilometres distant and connected directly into where the commerce building had once stood.

The resulting creation of a crater several blocks wide in all directions shook the earth and sky, and forced our pilot to jerk the controls wildly back and forth as the force of the attack, even so far away, forced the Agatha to fail. Just as he was struggling to regain control, the Agatha dipping and diving in a ugly dance, our comms were filled with a steely voice, with a G.O.D. Enemy tag attached.

"This is Admiral Bastion of the Guardian Navy on all open channels.. You Resistance dogs have retaken Bellis, despite me refusing to believe it. But I know your precious traitor of a leader is somewhere on the ground. And I will sacrifice this entire fleet and this entire world if it means killing him, to show you traitors what happens to those who defy the council. You dogs will burn like the heathens you are under our holy wrath!"

Even as our fleet picked them out of the sky, the enormous kilometer long battlecruisers crashing to the earth below and throwing up immense plumes of earth and dust, they continued firing downwards, annihilating the world below them as they fell to meet it. A few ships mutinied, attempting to escape up into orbit, but their comrades turned on them, directing railgun rounds and plasma weapons into their fleeing forms. As Fairview was obscured with dust and flaming debris, a few of our own ships fell, scuttled by the enemies' vicious and wildly targeted attacks. Grey shapes filled the city and surrounding suburbs, dotting the cityscape with the husks of starships.

I watched the catastrophe happen, disbelieving that I was on the ground only ten minutes previous at what was pretty ground zero for the first attack.

I looked to Precaution for guidance, for some soft words of support, but his face was contorted in grief, and his fists were clenched.

The Agatha pilot changed direction and moved towards our surviving fleet that had moved to float above the city center with it's numerous skyscrapers.

"Engines are running rough commander."

Smoke was indeed billowing out from us from somewhere behind where I was perched, but Precaution neither seemed to notice the pilot's words, nor the smoke that trailed lazily along as we flew. The lack of anti-air fire was welcome by me, but the shock of the last few hours was just starting to set in, and it wasn't until we docked and the emergency medical staff carted me away to stitch up my shoulder that I realized how serious the events were.

The Guardians were willing to sacrifice entire worlds for the sake of killing a single person.

"I'm not going to let that happen."

I murmured out loud to no one, and the combat medic who was working away at my shoulder with surgical needle and thread gave me a sidelong glance. Obviously used to this kind of inane babble.

Precaution would later have me promoted, but I hardly saw him again after that. Regardless, I still vowed that if I ever was given the chance, I'd pay him back the favor for giving me the chance to fight another day. And despite several more close calls, I've been in the Resistance ever since.

Description
Playing Offense.

The world was a blur of light and muffled sound. I could hardly feel my fingers, let alone figure out what had just happened. In the span of a couple seconds, the world had gone all fucked up. My entire body ached, and every movement sent lashes of pain up my spine. Echoes of color danced across my eyesight, like a hellish wonderland.

"Hanks! Hanks!"

The muffled shouts and chatter of gunfire slowly started to chase away the deafness and blindness. The light slowly readjusted itself into a hazy red sky, and I realized I was lying on my back. There was a voice calling me, vaguely familiar. It repeated again and again, a mechanized voice letting me know time was standing still as it called me back. The pain reverberated through my entire body, muscles threatening to tear at any moment.

"Hanks!"

The blur faded every time the voice spoke to me. Slowly the world came into focus, the sky faded to orange. My arms and legs slowly came to life as if by clockwork, moving without direction. I staggered to my feet, and looked over, to the voice calling me. There was a man there, wearing a black suit, he was carrying a rifle, that glowed blue around the barrel. The mechanized voice screeched at me again, filtered sound through the mask and helmet he wore.

"Get into cover you fuckhead!"

He screamed, and a peppering of gunfire made me duck behind a nearby concrete barrier.

I remembered now, a missile strike from a passing gunship. Blew us to pieces, I was on the outside of the formation, made sense now why I was still breathing. Smith, he was the man shouting at me, bringing me back after the hit.

My eyes darted rapidly back and forth, taking in the street around me. Blown out storefronts gaped black and menacing in the coming dusk, shadows hidden from the slowly darkening orange sky. Around me the street had been obliterated. Cars were scattered across the road in various states, some perfectly pristine, some blackened husks. Concrete barriers and what looked like construction markers were scattered everywhere, attempting to direct the now empty cars away from the war-zone.

I was suddenly myself again, recalling everything. As I pieced together the last minute of my life, Smith exchanged fire with something further up the street. Bright blue flashes from his plasma rifle lit up the dark storefronts for brief moments, bolts of blue energy arcing away beyond my vision past the barrier. Every so often he'd be forced to duck back as gunfire would come back at him, bullets or blue plasma slashing into the planter on the sidewalk he was hunkered behind.

Nearby, behind us, the rest of our squad lay in various states of death and dying. Only Smith had escaped completely, noticing the Gloria before it had wheeled about to fire. I watched a young man named Jason bleed out as he grasped vaguely at the air above him. I don't think he even knew he was gone before it was too late. He stopped moving and I winced as he went prone, rasping in one final breath into tattered lungs and then gently sighing, the same breath slowly leaving his form in a final moment.

I risked a glance out where Smith was firing, realizing I was weaponless at the same moment.

The G.O.D. Shocktrooper squad that had deployed from the gunship, the same Gloria that had fired the missile, was now advancing up the street directly ahead of us, and with only me and Smith in fighting condition, it didn't look good from my angle. The Gloria lifted off and vanished over the rooftops, but the fact that I had neglected to grab my rifle before I ducked into cover didn't make things any easier. Their white armor was easily visible in the lingering light, and the bright green eyes on their menacing combat suits only enhanced their forms as they advanced.

I noticed a bigger form hidden behind their formation, but didn't have time to verify what it was, as another burst of gunfire, bullets this time, arced my way from the frontrunners.

"Tactical this is Eclipse-Thirty-Six, we have engaged an enemy Gloria on cross streets Wallington and Trutch! Only me and Hanks are left, and he's fucking shellshocked! Please advise!"

If there was a reply, I couldn't hear it, as my helmet was gone. I had opted for a full headcover helmet, an advanced piece of technology with a full heads up display and assorted targeting and computer equipment. Smith had been smarter, taking just the visor and gas mask. While I was now near useless without comms, friend or foe, or even head protection, his visor and gas mask were strapped to his head firmly, and he had better vision to boot.

Weaponless, Helmetless, and without a gre....

"SMITH! Get down! Grenade up the street!"

Smith instinctively hunkered down behind the planter he was huddled behind, and I pulled the tag from the red and black colored ball I had pulled from my belt. It began beeping and I hurled it up the street towards the soldiers moving towards us as hard as I could.

There was a muffled cry as the soldiers noticed it flying towards them, and they scrambled for cover in the crowded street. A couple managed to hide behind abandoned cars, but as the grenade detonated in a flash of red light and force, the enemy squad was easily cut in half.

"Hanks, grab your fucking gun!"

Smith yelled at me, and took the chance to throw a grenade of his own, not quite as effective at killing the Shocktroopers, but enough of a distraction that it gave me a chance to move.

"Down to one!"

He shouted my way, letting me know his energy cell supply, and I bolted to where I had been lying, scraping my damaged plasma rifle off the street and slamming into cover behind a car with tinted windows. One energy cell would easily last him hundreds if not thousands of rounds, but Resistance infantry like us only usually carried a maximum of 4 of the tiny blue canisters. I checked my own supply: 2 of the cells carefully packed and sealed in pockets on the left side of my hip.

Above us, the sky flashed and ignited, enormous battlecruisers duking it out over air superiority. Luckily for us, none launched any attack groundward. The city itself was apparently too valuable to risk damaging.

The soldiers advanced again, catching my attention, and despite their reduced number, I now saw the reason for their determination. A lanky Seraph powersuit, obviously the squad leader, the form I had seen previously. It relentlessly pounded plasma bolt after plasma bolt our way from a lethal looking high tech rifle it wielded with only it's right arm, steadily advancing and now in the front of the survivors, leading the remaining Troopers.

"Smith! I have no helmet! Give me a Tango count!"

Normally our G.R.A. Shocktrooper suits would track enemy targets as well as friendlies in the field, marking them with green and red indicators based on eye movement and firing patterns. But without my helmet synching to the suit, I had no way of seeing the indicators, or even knowing if somebody had replied to Smith's calls for help. I was now centuries behind in terms of soldier efficiency.

"Five Troopers! One Seraph!"

Shit. Two to Six, and the latter of that number was probably capable of taking out an entire squad of Troopers like us WITHOUT help.

"FUCK!"

I screamed, and began wildly blind-firing, determined to both stop their advance and attempt to survive by whatever means possible. My rifle complained against the action, sparking and sending small arcs of blue energy down the barrel. The missile strike had hit it hard, and there was no guarantee it would work for much longer.

The action itself was futile, apparently. With a carefully targeted round, the Seraph opened fire on my exposed weapon after it moved out of the way of the inaccurate shots, and by the time I had yanked it back, the barrel had been warped and twisted by the superheated plasma he had launched back. My only weapon had been rendered effectively useless.

"My weapon's out!"

I yelled over to Smith, and primed my last of the two grenades, flinging it up the street in some attempt to stall the inevitable.

They were prepared this time though, having taken sufficient cover, and after the explosion rocked the street and the chaos had subsided, they advanced again, pushing their way ever closer. They were now within a hundred feet, and they took advantage of their range, picking shots more carefully.

A few of the G.O.D. Troopers were using kinetic weapons, and steel slugs began chipping away at my cover, forcing me to lunge to my right, behind a newer model car. It wasn't long before the windows on this one were gone as well, matching many others on the street.

Smiths began getting flanked, and he got to his feet and started falling back, only to be shot in the chest three times, the plasma bolts burning through his armor and causing him to scream out in agony before collapsing in a heap.

Knowing I had no weapon now, and assuming I had used up all my grenades, they moved in for the kill. The Seraph led the way, pushing forward and charging my position. I staggered to my feet, wincing at the pain that suddenly shot through my left shoulder, and noticed blood trickling down my arm.

"FUCK!"

The bullet had pierced right through the vulnerable joint piece, and exited out the other side. I kept running, weaving in and out of the now motionless traffic as the entire enemy force hailed plasma and gunfire down the street towards me.

I kept running, but knew it was too late. There was a thudding of heavy footsteps, and something heavy slammed into my back, sending me sprawling onto my stomach on the hard concrete.

"No prisoners."

The voice behind me was mechanical as well, although it was a deeper more altered sound. I rolled onto my back, gasping for air through the pain that now shot through both my back and my shoulder. My matte black armor glistened with the fresh blood coating my entire left arm and most of my torso, and I stared up into the form of the Seraph, the power suit's 6 glowing green eyes piercing into me.

I froze, as he pulled a long handle off his back, casually grabbing it with two hands and slapping a tab  near the hilt. Energy flared from the handle, a long simple beam of glowing white light.

"You killed my men with that grenade, and now I get to kill you up close and personal."

He raised the plasma weapon over his head, the Seraph armor's servos softly whining, and I closed my eyes, listening to the far off chatter of artillery and gunfire. If I was going to die, I was going to die with dignity, not screaming for my life like some coward. It's the least I could do.

The thought crossed my mind why I had even chose to join the Resistance, but just as I was starting to consider it, there was a sharp hiss, and my eyes snapped open, to see the plasma weapon fall from the Seraph's hands and sink itself into the street on my right side, terrifyingly close to my shoulder.

Protruding from the Seraph's torso was a long curved metal blade, wreathed in blue energy. It hissed loudly as the energy helped the blade slice through the heavy armor plating, technology, and flesh and bone of the man inside, working it's way upward to the Seraph's throat, and then withdrawing.

The Seraph gurgled, the suit distorting it into a mechanical blur, and a large metal hand shoved the enormous figure to the side, letting it collapse in a heap, blood seeping from the clean cut at it's center.

"Good to see I'm not too late."

The cyborg spoke the words calmly, his right robotic lens flickering briefly as it registered my wounds.

"Sir... I..."

He smiled a beleaguered smile.

"It's okay Hanks, you did what you could."

I wondered how he knew my name, but I suddenly answered my own question. To him and his half technological body, the friend and foe network would have labeled me as a green marker, with my name and rank easily shown. My lack of a helmet had set me back.

"Let's get you patched up enough to move, Hanks, you can get me up to date as we do."

I looked around for the other enemies, but they had all but disappeared, except for the body of one that lay about 30 feet distant, a smoking hole in the middle of his stomach. They must have fled rather than face down the leader of the Resistance.

To many he was known as X-1, the first of the Xex project, a top secret and highly funded G.O.D. Initiative to build a creature capable of assassinating Xex, the defected god of control and leader of the Black Armada. Not to say the G.O.D had the wrong idea, but apparently gifting a test tube grown and cybernetic equipped warrior with a conscience had been a bad idea on their part. It wasn't long before the newly renamed Precaution chose to defect himself, forming a Resistance army backed by those hoping to get rid of the tyranny of both superhuman groups.

Part of my choice to join the God Resistance Army had been based on stories I had heard of his actions, how he would fight with the last lines of defense if it meant saving his soldier's lives. I doubt Serania or Xex would ever do that for their underlings. And now he was here in person, saving my sorry ass from an otherwise unavoidable execution. I was shocked to say the least.

He salvaged what medical supplies he could from the bodies of the fallen, and wrapped my shoulder loosely in enough medical glaze to stop the blood loss while my combat skin started pumping healing and painkilling drugs into my system. As he patched me up, I filled him in on the attack, mentioned my lack of weapon, and requested orders. I tried to do this with as straight a face as possible, but failed at several points, wincing or gasping. The painkiller in the medical glaze was good, but not good enough to completely eliminate the pain from a gaping hole in my shoulder.

"Well, looks like that Seraph was packing some nice gear, you can grab his gun, although the polearm looks to be too heavy for you. No offense, but a Grah Shocktrooper isn't quite melee weapon material. Use two hands."

He looked up at the sky, his gaze locking on to one of the G.O.D. Ships floating over the city.

"As for orders... We still need to push the Guardians out of the entertainment district and secure the Warehouses and industrial areas along this side of the river. It's why the G.O.D. Still has air support, they're using the riverside shipyards as a secure landing zone to offload heavies. Hopefully without anywhere to land troops, they'll get the hell out of the skies, and we can take any ground encampment out with our fliers without worrying about interference."

I nodded, and staggered over to where the Seraph had fallen. The lanky power armor was lying in a pool of blood, but aside from the clean slit in it's abdomen, none of the gore was visible. I glanced down the street at where my dead squad lay, often in several pieces, and grimaced.

The Seraph's rifle was lighter than I expected, and I easily hefted it with both hands, popping out the nearly spent energy cell and replacing it with one I scavenged from the fallen. Precaution too had scavenged a couple energy cells, loading them into small ports on his forearms. The cyborg was tough, but despite his weaponized design he still needed ammo to fire his guns with.

I moved to him after I had grabbed Smith's visor, relatively unscathed from his body. I didn't grab his gas mask, though. It had filled with blood after Smith got shot. Obviously a result of the three blackened gaping holes in his chest.

I hobbled over to Precaution, and he looked me over, smiling at my exhausted posture but stern expression.

"Thank you, Sir. I'd have been dead without your help."

My words came easily for one who had been staring down death only a few minutes prior, and he smiled again politely in return, patting my shoulder with an enormous metal hand.

"I'm not the kind of commander that sits on the rear lines waiting for his men to win the war for him Hanks. I'm out here doing what I can. It just makes sense in my head to be out here."

I glowed at the statement, full of admiration for the man, vowing to thank him properly somehow if I survived this invasion. Doubt flickered through my mind: The G.O.D. Wanted this world, Bellis, badly as a major source of production and industry. The fighting had been restricted to the capital, Fairview, thus far, but if the Gods got desperate, there was no telling what they might attempt. I managed to push the doubt out of my mind with questions about Precaution as we moved through wartorn streets and looted shopping malls.

Bellis was a large world. The urban gangs had pushed back when the G.O.D. first occupied it, and were dealt with harshly as payback. My squad had already passed several rotting corpses before the attack, and me and the commander passed several more as we moved. The corpses were posed crucifixion style, an attempt to deter further uprising. In my mind's eye I had expected to see ghastly images of crows or ravens feasting on the bodies, so to see pigeons pecking away at faces and fingers was unsettling at least.

I never asked any of my questions out loud, but somehow Precaution managed to answer them anyways at every opportunity. We encountered tens upon tens of refugees, forced from their homes due to the fighting, and every time I expected him to be cold and callous, he proved me wrong, showing nothing but compassion to them. When they were repulsed by his partially robotic body, he prodded them into conversation, asking them where they had come from, telling them where they could seek shelter, and which routes were safe, cleared by the G.R.A. Forces attempting to retake the city. He would watch them as they dragged their last few worldly possessions back the way we had come, making sure that as long as he could do so, they would be protected.

I finally had to pipe up after the umpteenth group.

"Sir, I know this is a Resistance support world, but you don't owe these people anything. Why are we wasting time helping every single group we come across? Don't we have somewhere to be?"

He looked at me with indifference for a moment, and then sighed.

"The whole reason we're fighting this war is to free these people from the tyranny of both the Gods, and from Xex. Every time we open our mouths and say something, we're talking to another human being, somebody who loves, thinks, feels, and acts Hanks. We can't treat them as obstacles in all this. The minute we start treating them merely as resources or mindless slaves like the Armada, or gullible puppets like the G.O.D., we're making them distrust us. You have to win trust."

The more he talked, the more I liked him. He seemed to have a valid reason for everything he did, as if he had been contemplating his actions for years. The more he explained, the more I felt obligated to follow him. By the time we reached the red light district, I was sure I'd die for him if I needed to. He had completely rekindled my faith in the cause which had been on the verge of oblivion along with myself only a few hours earlier.

"The city is relatively unscathed in terms of infrastructure."

Precaution noted as the last few minutes of daylight wore out, and the red light district flared to life. Streetlights slowly snapped on, bathing us in a yellow-orange glow, and neon signs of all shapes and colors surged into being on the buildings above us. Every manner of commodity and service was advertised around us, from shampoo to fast food to high scale prostitution.

The refugees had grown in number now, fleeing from the adjacent residential areas; and were funneling through the pedestrian only streets we currently walked on. We were the only two figures walking towards the bright flashes of artillery and the beams of searchlights in the opposite direction. Luckily for us, people gave us a wide berth, fearing any interaction with two military operatives clearly on the opposite side from that which had driven them from their homes. The looks on their faces said it all. Something horrific was chasing them, and I could only wonder in terror at what G.O.D. Force could make them flee so quickly.

As we moved, the crowds thinned, but we got closer to the center of the Entertainment district. The neon signs were thicker, the storefronts were untouched, and some people were openly looting as much as they possibly could even while their peers fled for their lives. Every so often we'd catch a glimpse of a shape rustling in an alley, and once we noted the crunching of bones and tearing of flesh coming from behind a dumpster.

"Looks like the G.O.D. Is using first stage beasts to scare the civilians away from their military centers."

The way Precaution mentioned it so casually made me question my own fear, pondering if I might be stupid for fearing the genetically engineered monsters. Beasts were the epitome of horror, the offspring of a purely organic bio-weapon originally intended to be Precaution's replacement. While the original X-2 was fully sentient, it's newborns evolved in stages depending on drugs introduced during term inside normal humans, and thus both the G.O.D. and Armada after capturing and breeding the initial children had capitalized on their voracious hunger and savagery, deploying them in open warzones.

The commander was fearless, it seemed.

"Beasts are hardly the least of our worries. Despite some of them being evolved to the second stage and becoming a tad more intelligent, the vast majority of them are just dumb animals. They prey on anything and everything moving for breeding and feeding, but they're not smart enough to focus in on a tough meal when there's easier prey. Just so you know though Hanks, we're saving anybody we can from being attacked outright."

I shivered, but nodded my consent. Luckily for me, we failed to see any more attacks, and as the crowds lessened, so did the sounds and evidence of beasts. What Precaution said was true, it seemed they were more fond of the easy to catch refugees than well armed soldiers moving through the middle of an open street.

"Alfred checked the sat images, he's marked two G.O.D. Troopers guarding a checkpoint up ahead Hanks, you ready for combat?"

I gave a thumbs up, and we went silent, me checking the high tech rifle I had been packing for the second time. It glowed green on several parts in designs I understood, but the sight was calibrated for  too little zoom for my tastes. Obviously the loosely dangling fiber optic cord from the stock was designed to integrate into the Seraph's power armor, and the rifle was stuck on the zoom the previous owner was using earlier. I'd be a long range support, apparently.

It made sense.

I didn't have light plasma shielding like my cyborg superior, and plasma weapons, despite being weak against some targets and having a slower firing rate, were definitely quieter than their kinetic bullet spewing counterparts. A plasma based sniper weapon could be deadly in the hands of a professional.

We took to the back alleys and storefronts, keeping mostly to the shadows and masking our approach as best we could. The sounds of battle were drawing nearer, and I knew the Resistance forces must be closing in on the Guardians now attempting to fall back to their Landing Zone. We had been behind our own lines before, but now we were drawing dangerously close to the enemy line. Hopefully it meant we could regroup with other squads from our side, rather than the opposite, being overwhelmed by G.O.D. Defenders.

"There they are, a security checkpoint. One Shocktrooper scanning the fleeing refugees, the other watching for anything coming from our side. We'll need to take him out first before he or his partner can let the rest of the G.O.D. know we're headed their way."

Precaution was obviously fully capable of picking up on the simple implications of alerting the enemy, something I had just completely blanked out on, assuming we'd just run in guns blazing. Basic training was just a blur when faced with an enemy unaware of our position.

"The bulk of our Resistance forces are nearing the entertainment district. The area is about to become a hostile open fire zone as the G.O.D. Moves to intercept."

This voice came from Precaution, but it was synthesized, a fake male voice from somewhere inside Precaution's body. No introduction was needed, I guessed it's identity by the rumors I had heard.

Alfred, the only class 7 A.I. In existence who called Precaution his home. In exchange for somewhere to keep himself, Alfred acted as a constant data hound for his host, sifting through enormous amounts of information on the battlefield situation, cybernetic threats, and other jobs Precaution's organic brain simply couldn't keep up with. He streamlined the process, feeding the G.R.A leader only what might be useful or urgent.

"I've put out a bulletin to nearby squads noting Commander X-1 as operating in the district, but neglected to give our location due to possible intercept by the enemy."

I shook my head, bringing me back from daydreams about what it might be like to have another personality or another being sharing a body with me. I checked my weapon for the third time, and carefully followed as Precaution took point, weaving his way through any and every piece of viable cover he could use. When he was within range of the two Shocktroopers, he wasted no time.

"Sir?"

I whispered over comms, but he chose not to reply, simply vanishing from view as he engaged his personal cloaking device. I sighted the two enemies, ready to take a shot if need be, but it was pointless. Before I could blink, the two Shocktroopers lay dead on the ground, quickly dispatched by his two curved energized blades.

His capability in the battlefield was making me admire him far more than I probably should. I decided to be more aloof in my actions for fear of letting it show.

"Echo-Three-Seven, all Resistance on Yeming St., this is EXO team Fringe, making our way directly towards the Guardian lines. We could use some infantry cover to blow a hole in the blockade."

The comms was filtered to my visor by Alfred, making me wonder how much control he could have
over our forces, but a quick wave forward by Precaution immediately changed our course.

"We're going loud Hanks, I think that EXO team might be our best bet at cracking through the Guardians quickly. All our other heavy options are still a half hour behind."

Precaution had obviously heard the message too, as we made a break for Yeming St. a few blocks over. No sooner had we jogged to a stop into the intersection than the rhythmic thudding of heavy machinery footsteps came into earshot. The EXO team was careful, sweeping every alley and intersection, as if expecting an RPG to fly from anywhere. When they spotted us up the street they quickened their pace, coming to a halt just a few feet away from where we stood.

"Lieutenant Kenning, Commander. We saw Alfred's bulletin, didn't expect to see you so soon into playing offense."

Precaution moved over to Kenning's Exoskeleton and patted his armored hand against it's leg plating.

"Well we're the infantry cover you requested Lieutenant. You and your three man cell are going to let me and Hanks here take point, to make sure there aren't any Sentinels, snipers, or other surprises waiting for you."

The twenty foot tall Exoskeleton straightened up and saluted, an awkward motion, and we started off again down the street.

No sooner had we traveled exactly 4 blocks than the first MTG round slammed into the thick armor plating of the EXO on the left of our formation. It staggered backwards, a hole blown deep into it's left breastplate.

"SENTINEL, 4TH FLOOR! FIRE ESCAPE!"

Precaution had spotted the thick power armor the minute it's shimmer cloak had dropped to let it fire the round. The sentinel was an enormous bulky thing, with a weapon so massive it dwarfed even the arms of the Sentinel itself. The damn gun was easily the length of my entire body, and almost twice as thick.

"MTG! EXOs, take cover in the alleys!"

An MTG was a bad sign. The damn thing was in essence the same technology of railgun that most starships used. Despite being a smaller scale, the thing could easily punch right through the Exoskeleton's thick armor plating. Only G.O.D. Sentinels used them for the most part, stationary cloaked and heavily armored sniper suits. The recoil of the gun alone was enough to throw anything else back a couple feet.

"OPEN FIRE!"

Lieutenant Kenning's order came miliseconds after I had begun to pull the trigger, peppering the fire escape somewhere between the third and fourth floor with bright lime green plasma. The rifle bucked viciously even as I fired it with both hands, and where the plasma connected with the metal of the escape, it melted away, groaning and twisting red hot.

My rounds were soon followed by fire from Precaution, both arms raised and blue bolts of plasma streaming from the twin barrels on each forearmm previously retracted into mysterious storage cavities. The sentinel flashed as it returned fire, and the already wounded EXO on the left found itself punched full of more holes from railgun rounds.

The Sentinel pilot's aim was true, and the last round from the Sentinel proved itself pointless, as the pilot's remains became visible through the gaping hole in the center of the chest. The final round pierced through the Exoskeleton's upper thigh, bringing it to a lurching halt.

The two other EXO suits pulled into the alley on the right side of the street, leaving their dead comrade where he remained.

The Sentinel, having dealt with one out of 5 possible targets, chose to deal with us: the infantry support. Even as the green plasma bolts from my stolen Seraph gun peppered it's heavily armored form, melting away it's plating, it continued to dish out punishment our way. MTG round after MTG round forced me to duck and weave from car to car and streetpost to streetpost. Precaution barely seemed to move, as Alfred calculated every round headed his way, only making him sidestep to the sides as he escaped the Sentinel's eerily accurate fire.

My plasma bolts finally seemed to force the Sentinel into submission, as the green energy melted through the final layer of armor and cooked the soldier inside. The Sentinel flickered into view, sparks bouncing from the new hole leading from the street to the inside of the unit.

The two remaining EXOs emerged from their hiding place as the enemy target disappeared from their friend and foe systems.

"Hence why we asked for Infantry support commander, we're too big of targets for any cloaked defenses we run into. And it's not like we can take the rooftops like any light infantry can. We'd fall right through."

Kenning's suit turned slightly, observing the still form of his subordinate.

"Let's keep moving, and not let Frank's death be in vain."

The sound of other Resistance meeting G.O.D. Defenses came into earshot all at once, and mortars and anti-aircraft fire lit up the sky as we progressed deeper into Guardian territory.

Alfred shifted his focus from hiding our position with the nearby friendlies masking our presence, and suddenly comms dialogue filled my hearing.

"Aggies C-33 and FD-32 seeking friendlies for secure LZ"

"Fireteam Zulu moving up Detroit and Mississippi. Pressing hard!"

"Exosekeleton teams and airborne friendlies, this is Bertha D-98, watch the rooftops, god damn Sentinels are everywhere, almost got scuttled by RPG fire."

"The G.O.D. Line is steady at Charment and Sealine, requesting help to push their artillery."

"Echo-Thirty Eight, shoutout to all Resistance playing offense. Sensor lines from Jennings street onwards, they're watching us roll in Grahs."

"Eclipse Thirty-Six, about to push the line at Sealine, backing Echo-Three-Seven Fringe. All Grahs that can, move to assist."

The most recent comms dialogue was from Commander Precaution, his actual voice simultaneously echoing the refracted transmission of the bulletin. When he spoke, my visor lit up with an orange outline, implying it was a high ranking command.

"Didn't know you had that rank Eclipse, but this is Fireteam Jericho, we're about to hit Sealine and Detroit with Zulu, we've got your back."

Precaution sent them a confirmation, and we rounded the corner, finally finding a full on crossfire situation. I took cover behind Kenning, and the commander ducked behind Jake's EXO, the other survivor of Fringe. We pressed up, drawing intense amounts of infantry fire and the odd RPG.

"Rounding the corner now sir!"

Zulu and Jericho charged headlong into the fight, emerging into the open street and immediately ducking into the shattered sex shop on their left.

"A Machinegun nest on the hotel fork building directly ahead, and a heavily defended plaza exists beyond this line of apartments. Sandbag and other fortifications are numerous."

Alfred's bulletin was global, and soon other Grah units emerged, helping to thin the defenders. While their numbers generally consisted of Shocktroopers occupying the windows of the various apartments, and the machine gun nest was quickly dispatched by a heavy explosive round launched from Kenning, Several Seraphs moved through the building to counter us, blocking access to the streets ahead. The Seraphs took far more damage than their less equipped Troopers, and proved immovable to the point where even the two EXOs were forced back for fear of grenades or other explosives damaging their legs.

"Target painted, Grahs hold for strike."

There was a fearful moment where every Resistance fighter ducked for cover, and then a roar of engines sprang into being, quickly followed by a bright flash. The hotel building that had formerly housed the now defunct machinegun nest cracked and collapsed, broken by a missile strike. Within a couple of seconds, the engine roar was gone.

"J-44 heading back to the skies, good luck Eclipse."

The Justice pilot's voice clarified the explosion, and as the cloud of dust enveloped the street from the collapsing building, cutting power to many of the flashing billboards and bright neon lights, we pressed, pushing through the haze and towards the plaza now visible through the twisted rebar and broken concrete of the hotel. The apartment buildings on either side sagged from collateral damage, and bright rocket flashes overhead brought them down as well, further scattering the Seraphs and Shocktroopers still fighting.

I moved up, wincing at my wounded shoulder. I was scared, having lost sight of the commander and fearing that any minute Kenning would have his EXO blown to pieces by the Seraphs who could easily have thermal vision. In my haste, I stumbled right into the struggling upper torso of a Seraph. It was a woman, her helmet lost somewhere in the cloud and her lower half buried under an enormous piece of re-bar studded concrete.

I could tell some of the re-bar had pierced her suit, as her lips were tinged with blood, and her eyes were moving in rapid frantic movements. Even despite the gunfire all around us, she began screaming oaths against me and the Resistance, and cursing her failing power armor for not moving how she commanded it to.

I watched as she slowly realized how damaged she was, and as she tried feebly to heft the enormous concrete slab off her legs. By the time her armor had failed completely, she was thrashing her head around, sucking in air, ignoring the thick dust motes highlighted by the bright lights.

I watched as she coughed up fresh blood, shuddered, and finally went still, frozen in place as bright green, blue, and white flashes lit up the dust cloud around me.

A voice called me back to the world for a second time that night and a G.R.A. Shocktrooper emerged from the haze, pushing me to the side as he shouted for me to move out of his way.

I snapped to, firing haphazardly into the cloud and covering our advance. The Shocktroopers took note of my stolen gun and let me lead the way as the cloud settled, giving us our vision back. I quickly unloaded a steady stream of green plasma bolts into the head of another Seraph, reducing his head to a soupy mess, and dispatched a Shocktrooper perched at a 3rd floor windowsill, before my aching shoulder forced me back into cover.

Only a few enemies remained, a Seraph firing at us with a plasma rifle from a second story window, and a couple Shocktroopers desperately pouring round after round into our advancing line. They scored several kills, Resistance soldiers slumping over as rounds pierced or burned through their bodies, but were quickly put down themselves and the street went eerily quiet for  brief moment before the first mortar screamed over the debris pile of the hotel and hammered itself into the street, sending several men flying and spraying men more distant with rubble.

Some moved to tend the survivors, but others lay still, their limbs sprawled at impossible angles.

It was the commander who took hold of the situation again by roaring at those of us still breathing to press forward, and our air support began braving the anti-air and artillery batteries, Justice fixed wings striking where they could as before. An Agatha moved in over the rooftops behind us and slowly descended, both side doors locked open. The wounded were loaded into it, and a second followed, this one quickly boarded by the commander.

"HANKS! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!"

The commander was yelling at me to join him, and I sprinted to the Aggie, fearing more mortars would arc over the hump of the fallen building. Able bodied men began climbing the piles or circling around the streets to engage the Plaza, but Precaution motioned to the turret facing off out the right sliding door of the Agatha.

"You're going to covering our approach Hanks, and give me the opportunity to drop behind their guns. Don't be afraid to waste ammo, this bird just came down from The Tympanium."

He was referencing a battle-cruiser in the formation floating far overhead, and it made sense as to why the air support was suddenly becoming more available. The Agatha waited for a couple more troopers to hop in, one of them taking the left side gun, and the other moving to the rear to spot, and then slowly lifted off, gaining height and moving over the rubble pile.

"Beyond the plaza is the commerce building, and not too much farther after that are the dockyards and ports the Guardians are using to unload their armor. If we can push the commerce building it'll give us a hole to push our own heavies through and take their LZ. It'll fold inwards from there!"

As we cleared the rubble pile, flak guns and mortars suddenly began exploding all around us. Other transports and gunships were following our leads, and several took immediate hits, but it looked like we would easily overwhelm whoever was taking aim at us with sheer numbers. There would be no way that they could possibly fend us off.

"We're losing transports, sir!"

The pilot was a little worried, to say the least, as fellow Aggies and Tabbies exploded into flames across the skyline. The city center, a towering mass of skyscrapers, lay to our close east, separating the bulk of the two fleets from each other, but the G.O.D. Knew it was starting to lose the defensive. Battlecruisers were moving across Fairview, all converging on our location.

"Our forces are bunching up, we're about to break the line."

Plasma bolts streamed across our opposite side suddenly, and the gunner yelped and lost his grip on the gun that was keeping him steady as one connected with his forearm, burning half through it. The trooper spotting us pitched out a hand, but it was already too late, as the man slipped off the edge of the Aggie, falling to the ground several stories below.

The commander looked away from where the man hit the ground, but took the man's turret himself, gritting his teeth and motioning for the two pilots to gain altitude.

"Oh fuck..."

The spotter murmured, and suddenly the sky erupted in the loudest sound I had ever heard.

The Battlecruiser closest to us had angled itself slightly, and with an intense light, had unleashed it's secondary weapons downwards into the city itself.

Our fleet's response was almost immediate, and the sky suddenly became a secondary battle zone, as the fleets moved to engage each other in-atmosphere.

"The G.O.D. Is pulling a scorched earth!"

The pilot's words were hardly necessary. The Guardians knew they had lost the ground battle, so instead of wait to recall their troops and attempt a retreat, the religious-bent admiral of this fleet had ordered his fleet to kill both their own men and ours in an attempt to achieve some bloody equivalent of a draw.

The air reverberated and a bright blue beam suddenly sent our air forces spiraling out of control as it sailed past us several kilometres distant and connected directly into where the commerce building had once stood.

The resulting creation of a crater several blocks wide in all directions shook the earth and sky, and forced our pilot to jerk the controls wildly back and forth as the force of the attack, even so far away, forced the Agatha to fail. Just as he was struggling to regain control, the Agatha dipping and diving in a ugly dance, our comms were filled with a steely voice, with a G.O.D. Enemy tag attached.

"This is Admiral Bastion of the Guardian Navy on all open channels.. You Resistance dogs have retaken Bellis, despite me refusing to believe it. But I know your precious traitor of a leader is somewhere on the ground. And I will sacrifice this entire fleet and this entire world if it means killing him, to show you traitors what happens to those who defy the council. You dogs will burn like the heathens you are under our holy wrath!"

Even as our fleet picked them out of the sky, the enormous kilometer long battlecruisers crashing to the earth below and throwing up immense plumes of earth and dust, they continued firing downwards, annihilating the world below them as they fell to meet it. A few ships mutinied, attempting to escape up into orbit, but their comrades turned on them, directing railgun rounds and plasma weapons into their fleeing forms. As Fairview was obscured with dust and flaming debris, a few of our own ships fell, scuttled by the enemies' vicious and wildly targeted attacks. Grey shapes filled the city and surrounding suburbs, dotting the cityscape with the husks of starships.

I watched the catastrophe happen, disbelieving that I was on the ground only ten minutes previous at what was pretty ground zero for the first attack.

I looked to Precaution for guidance, for some soft words of support, but his face was contorted in grief, and his fists were clenched.

The Agatha pilot changed direction and moved towards our surviving fleet that had moved to float above the city center with it's numerous skyscrapers.

"Engines are running rough commander."

Smoke was indeed billowing out from us from somewhere behind where I was perched, but Precaution neither seemed to notice the pilot's words, nor the smoke that trailed lazily along as we flew. The lack of anti-air fire was welcome by me, but the shock of the last few hours was just starting to set in, and it wasn't until we docked and the emergency medical staff carted me away to stitch up my shoulder that I realized how serious the events were.

The Guardians were willing to sacrifice entire worlds for the sake of killing a single person.

"I'm not going to let that happen."

I murmured out loud to no one, and the combat medic who was working away at my shoulder with surgical needle and thread gave me a sidelong glance. Obviously used to this kind of inane babble.

Precaution would later have me promoted, but I hardly saw him again after that. Regardless, I still vowed that if I ever was given the chance, I'd pay him back the favor for giving me the chance to fight another day. And despite several more close calls, I've been in the Resistance ever since.