Orbit of Euphoria

The PRF fleet didn't stand a chance, they were completely annihilated. Although the few of the remaining enemy medium and heavy ships have withdrew to the dark side of the planet, small pockets of resistance still existed, mostly from lighter vessels. The battle was partially won, with the enemy crippled in orbit, the Army and Marines below may have a better chance at eliminating the PRF ground force.

8 years ago, the CATO was outmatched and outnumbered 7 to 1. Today, the USF Navy fields the largest and most powerful fleets in human space. Combined with the other navies from CATO, the combined force of Earth outgunned and outnumbered the PRF to the point where their orbital docks could not rebuild enough ships to sustain their dying fleet.

Underneath the dim blue battle lightings, Johnson held his arm behind his back as he watched giant metal debree of the enemy fleet float across his view. The Euphorian star hit his face with its confounded glare, stinging his eyes. The distant main sequence star burned bright despite the chaos, painting everything around it with vibrant warm colors. But he hated it. Johnson viewed the sun like an all-seeing eye. You can never outrun its sight, no matter which angle you stood.

As the Stormbringer squeezed through the deepest part of the debree field, long sharp screeches could be heard across the hull as the metal scratched against one another. The Stormbringer was tasked to provide close reconnaissance, BDA (Battle Damage Assessment) and to recover the remains of the destroyer USFS Greenville, who's captain lost contact while conducting recon operations nearby. The Greenville was presumed destroyed by an ambush.

The PRF was well known to use corvettes as small skirmish vessels that employed hit-and-run tactics against larger vessels. It would be unsurprising if one just showed up from behind a large debree. Although corvettes are significantly weaker compared by a single Excalibur-class destroyer, they still posed a major threat against unwary ships.

"Sir," Richard stepped in beside Johnson, "Do you think Greenville just lost its way back, somewhere in this sector?"

"Unlikely," Johnson replied, "Captain Sanders doesn't wander off into the dark like that."

"What if their comm module got knocked out in battle? Maybe that's why we aren't getting any readings from him."

"He would've activated the ship's emergency transponders, if that's the case."

"But we aren't receiving anything back from him," Richard said.

"Exactly."

"I'm sure Sanders would be fine sir," Richard said, "he's a good captain."

"I hope s-"

"Sir, enemy fighters, starboard side!" Jenkins announced.

Johnson looked to his left, and two fighter wings appeared from the behind the ruins of a Kunloy engine thruster. Eight red triangles marked the incoming jets. All of them were reading weapons red.

Johnson tapped the window twice with his left palm to magnify the incoming threat. As clear as day, he could see the fighters. They were a flight of eight JS-7 multi-role fighters headed directly towards the Stormbringer.

"Arming CIWS," Jameson said.

Within mere seconds, the 25mm Phantom gatling guns swiveled towards the starboard side and unloaded a volley of high precision rounds. Hundreds of orange tracers flew towards the enemy fighters in unison.

Four of the red triangles vanished as yellow flashed within the blackness.

Two missiles shot up from the VLS, and headed towards the fighters.

Flares shot out from the remaining. JS-7s, until two of them werr struck by the missles.

The Phantoms continued their bursts at regular intervals, until the remaining fighters were no more but a part of the vast debree around them.

For moment, a smile formed on Johnson's face, until the Stormbringer's shield flashed blue.

Suddenly, the light of the sun was blotted out by the shadow of a massive PRF corvette to the portside. Their guns were already trained on the Stormbringer, as if they already knew the destroyer would come straight into their sights, as if they anticipated her arrival.

The shield flashed again.

And the corvette opened fire again.

Fortunately, the shields were more than capable of sustaining the pathetic firepower the corvette was dishing out.

"Corvette! Portside 3-3-0! " Jenkins announced.

"Return fire, NOW!" Johnson yelled.

The 120mm guns fired in unison. A volley of rounds first slammed into the corvette's shields, then into right through its hull. Almost within milliseconds, the corvette burst into flames, setting off a chain of explosions that blew it into smithereens.

"Cease fire, cease fire," Johnson said.

"Cap, I'm picking something ahead," Jameson said, "it doesn't look good."

"What is it Jameson?" he turned towards the Weapons Officer.

"Something massive is moving within the field."

Johnson walked towards his station and stood behind his seat. Jameson and his 12-man team had their hands on the fire controls, each of them staring into their scopes with intense concentration. Jameson leant back against his chair, "Take look, sir."

He leant his face into the scope. A red horseshoe reticle occupied most of the view, with the ammo counter on the bottom left of the display and turret integrity on the right. Ahead was nothing, just the blackness of space and useless metal floating about.

Johnson took his eye off the scope, "I don't see anything-"

"Enemy ships! Vector 0-0-0," Jenkins said again.

Johnson looked outside and what he saw almost made his jaw drop.

A Karak cruiser rammed through a cloud of metal at full steam. It's thrusters burned orange hot as it tilted its shiny brute hull towards the Stormbringer. Following behind it was two Kunloy destroyers.

Together their weapons flashed. They unloaded their armaments on the Stormbringer; guns, missiles, thermobaric scatterguns, everything.

Then the shields lit up as if it was 4th of July.

-------

"Keep moving!" Jackal yelled under the noise of gunfire as he yanked me up to my feet.

I held my rifle to my chest and ran towards an empty cab ahead of me. Quickly, with the additional power provided by the exoskeleton, I vaulted over the its bonnet, and landed on my feet. I leant against the car door, lungs breathing heavily and heart pounding rapidly.

"Holy shit," I muttered.

The PRF were right on our tail. There were almost thirty, if not fifty guys after us. I guess the first lieutenant wasn't kidding went he mentioned 'heavy resistance'.

"Two guys moving across to the left!" Lee relayed.

"Copy that." Jackson replied.

I popped my head up to have a good look at the enemy.

Countless armed, green men could be seen moving between covers. There was a ton of them, maybe a platoon or two, maybe an entire company. They held up both sides of the street. Their ranks were split between the firing element and the maneuver element. Half of them would advance and the other would provide cover fire. But if we kept up our current rate of fire, the enemy would be completely wiped out. Unless, they decided to show up in an IFV.

Some of the enemies were cut down by precision fire, but others were still closing in. I couldn't tell whether they were stupid, or just downright insane. The fact that they relied heavily on massive numbers made it easier to decimate their ranks. Usually they would blindly charge into our general direction, hoping to overrun us. In reply, we would gun them down, but as soon as one of them gets killed, another three will take his place.

Suddenly, one round struck the surface of the bonnet, and ricochet harmlessly into the air above.

"Shit," I cursed as I ducked back down.

"Frag out!" Amber said.

Four seconds later, a loud thump sounded, followed by a mix of screams.

Midnight, who was across the street, rose up and fired two rounds before falling back down to cover. Beside him was James, who fired his carbine in full automatic. Empty spent cartridges showered Midnight.

"For fucks sake," Midnight mouthed as some casings slipped between his combat uniform and body armor.

"How many of these fucks are out there?! " James shouted into the radio.

McCord said, "Twenty plus or so."

I stood up and focused on the front sight. With my rifle trained to the right, I put down suppressive fire to keep the enemy at bay. The smell of gunpowder stung my nose as I tapped the trigger rapidly. With every shot until-

Click.

"Goddammit." I crouched. First I anchored the rifle's butt to my armpit and ejected the empty magazine. Then, I slid a new one into the well and thumbed the bolt catch, pushing a new round into the chamber. A distinct chk-cha followed. I probably had two more magazines to spare, and a grenade, and a trusty sidearm.

Suddenly, Jackal hopped down right beside me.

"There's bloody lots of them, eh?" he asked under the symphony of bullets striking the other end of the car.

A round shattered the glass above my head, "Yes sir," I agreed as sprinkles of sharp fragments rained over my helmet.

McCord suddenly yelled, "GRENADE! Fucking move it Jackson. MOVE-"

BANG!

"Bollocks," Jackal said. He stuck his head above the roof of the car, "Private?! Private? McCord, Jackson, you hear me?"

"Still alive Sarge."

"Too damn close."

"Stay clear of that vehicle and find cover," Jackal said.

"Affirmative, sarge." Jackson replied.

I stood up again. Ahead was McCord and Jackson, helping each other to get back on their feet as they moved away from the burning cab they once took refuge behind. The rest of the squad laid down covering fire until the two were clear of the open.

For a second, the street was empty, until someone decided it was a good idea to dash across the street. However, a bullet through his face cut short his journey. The two who were following behind him immediately turned back. One of the men stopped and fired, until a hail of precision fire smashed him towards the ground.

"They're running out of bodies," the sergeant said, his rifle also trained on the street ahead, "I think we should-Wait, target. You see him? Left side."

On the left side of the street, one of the enemy soldiers stepped out from cover. He looked as if he was ready to sprint.

"Slot that bastard." He fired his weapon.

The moment he sprang up, I put five rounds in his general direction. Several more gunshots joined in.

He jerked to the left and crashed on his side. One of his companions ran out, and dragged his lifeless body back to where he came from.

"McCord, the TacHo, now," Echo relayed.

"Copy, pulsing, now," McCord replied.

The M-55 TES (Tactical Echolation System) is a hostile detection equipment issued to every squad. With an effective pulse range of 100 meters, this cube shaped device is able to pinpoint the exact location of hostile targets. Our HUDs were always synced to the M-55, so whenever a scan is performed, the targets will be highlighted red. It was perfect for urban warfare and COIN operations. Every modern military force has some sort of echolation device, even the PRF.

Almost a second later, six red glowing figures appeared downrange. Three on the right, three on the left. Some of the men looked as if they were ready to run, and some looked as if they were ready to fire. I curled my finger around the trigger and waited for-

"Suppressive fire!" Echo yelled, "Suppressive fir-"

A disarray of gunfire cut his voice out. Oblivious to their purpose, each round rips into something, be it inanimate or living, crashing into metal, concrete and blood with equal unfeeling.

One by one the red figures disappeared from view as they fell.

"Cease fire!" Echo yelled again, but the firing didn't stop, "Cease fire goddamit!" he waved his arms in the air.

Then the sounds of empty cartridges tumbling followed.

"I think we got them," Jackal said.

"Ok, let's move out!" Echo yelled.

One by one, we lowered our guns and fell into formation, as we headed towards the general direction of Sword Base.

Until we heard what sounded like a military hummer.