Hold the Line

No one knows exactly when this war began.

Only that it has been going on for a long long long.... pissin! long time!.

Bloody being the best and honest way of describing it.

There is no one left alive who were present at the start.

They all are dead and long buried, cremated or left in no mans land.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, this story is the tale of how a great Federation was forced to turn every planet into a fortress, every building into a bunker, every field to lines of trenches and gun emplacements.

My name is.... well What is my name.... Crap I forgot my own name..... aah it doesn't matter anymore, I only go by my rank these days, Chief Lieutenant.

But most call me Chief or L.T.

Chapter 1: A History of the War

Well here's the thing, not much is recorded about the start of the war, or what life was like before it.

Our Federation consisted of three separate species, the Huan, who you might recognise as mostly Human, excluding the complete Lack of Hair on any part of our bodies.  The Chin, a humanoid peoples with crustacean like armour plating covering their bodies and no visible mouths, instead small filter mouths beneath their chins. Then there were the Aton, a race of insect like creatures who had a knack for digging. They were similar to us when it comes to their torso, just covered in those exoskeletons, their heads are like those you would call an Ants, with long mandibles, but most of all those long pointed four legs of theirs, which were good for digging, climbing and of course killing.

Each of us Adapted for the Environment of our home worlds. For Huan, we are humanoids yes, similar to you, but like I said without anything resembling hair, we are mammals after all. For you see, to us Hair would have been a difficult thing to evolve with, our planet is rather hot, with strong weather conditions. Weather where body hair doesn't have any use. We need our bodies to be able to cool down very rapidly.

For the Chin, they come from an ocean world where the most nutricious source of food is microscopic or very difficult to see. So instead of forming powerful jaws and teeth, they had adapted to filter the food with their "Mouths". The armour for their bodies is useful in a variety of ways, occassionally they needed to go to the surface, onto small Islets to heat up or scavenge the beaches for dead animals, but when up there the radiation of their sun is dangerous, so the armour gives them some added protection. And of course it is useful when defending themselves from threats.

The Aton on the other hand, they have the hardest world you can imagine. Their planet, no their civilisation is built underground. 

Their world often circles very close to their sun, so the temperatures on the surface of their planet can sky rocket very quickly. So when those temperatures are present they are forced underground. So they obviously built their culture down there, only come to the surface for a few hours at a time to avoid being literally cooked to death.

For Generations we have all been forced to war. my Great Grandfather was present during the enemies great invasion, when hundreds of worlds fell within a matter of days. Our fleets decimated within minutes and our armies lying dead on the field in hours.

In desperation an order of conscription was given to everyone capable of fighting, With a Billion already dead, it took another billion before the lines slowed. When that happened the conscription was removed but still an order of volunteer was held onto, requiring people to have at least one term of active service in the army or navy.

And even then it took desperate measures. About a Hundred of your Human years later I was born, never knowing who my Great Grandfather was by experience but journals, Never knowing who my Grandfather was except by Journals and never knowing a father except by a journal and a Killed in Action notification which came the month before my birth.

Four whole Generations have fought this bloody war against an enemy we know nothing about, except they like to use machines to fight. Now every world on the front line is covered in fortifications in the style of endless trenches, gun positions, artillery dug out, mortar pits and bunkers. This is the great plan, to hold the line.

For we here at the front know that for every minute we hold here, then those behind us at the next line have an extra minute to reinforce their trench or build up their bunkers, add another pit for a mortar or even an extra Artillery piece, or even further back allow another transport filled with civilians . And not just on this Planet, we may be fighting for it but that doesn't mean that we've lost it, every minute we hold out on this world means another can do the same, build defences, add anti air guns and prepare their Orbital Cannons. Or in some places build an extra tank, build a fighter bomber or even a whole new battleship.

And that's it. That's the war.

Oh wait I forgot my part.....

Well I am a part of a very special operation force, we call ourselves Strikers, others however call us the Suicide Corps, the Mad House. All Because we go beyond No mans Land, we go out beyond the trenches and engage the enemy in their territory.

Yep you heard me right, me and other Strikers go behind the Mortem Line, And that name is literal. Because usually when the line advances nothing alive survives behind it. And even when it does, it doesn't last long, the enemy are finicky about allowing people to live behind their armies.

Chapter 2: Strikers

I remember that day like it was yesterday, I awoke like I usually do.

Looking up at the metal ceiling and walls of the dug out that was the quarters for my team, we all had to share this place, about 8 sleeping spots in the form of bunk beds, so two bunks beds on either side and two at the back but those at the back we used for storage to hold all our stuff, instead of sleeping. The Room was barely large enough for us all to sit in, hell the only thing in the bloody place was the beds, we were expected to sleep, eat and drink here when not on active missions.

Its difficult but at least here we don't have to watch our backs or have someone on guard. We get relatively hot food except the bloody stale rations we are forced to shove down our throats when behind the Line, We even get drinks like tea, coda, seeda.

But these days that is getting harder and harder. Pulling myself up slowly I had to avoid banging my head against the bunk above me as well as the bars that held the whole bloody thing up. As I placed my feet down onto the rusted metal floor, I began to feel through my boots the vibrations of the Mortars and Artillery firing from our side and the rockets coming in from the enemy. Even when we were about three trenches away from the actual front, I could still feel it, this was an average day, they would fire rockets from behind their line and we would respond with artillery and mortars.

I decided that I needed some relatively fresh air, I mean for crying out loud four Huan, A Chin and three Aton crammed together in a small room leaves very little for refreshing air. As I came out from the few steps that lead to the covering door I felt the sudden blow of sun light against my face, it was a rarity now days to get sun light most of the time debris from the countless explosions make the clouds much denser.

As my eyes got used to the glare and brightness, I noted the missiles zipping across the sky all coming from the direction of the Mortem Line. Alongside the popping of smoke and fire far above in the clouds, that was the marker that our anti aircraft guns were still firing and preventing the enemy from Sending aerial drones to bomb us from above. But those rockets were a very important clue.

It was going to be busy here soon. For those of you who don't understand, the enemy use missile launchers far behind their line to pummel us, at the same time the enemy launch another wave of their drone forces, big and small to try and break through the line. Something that had failed so far at this line.

Trench Line no.16 on this planet but as the number suggests it had worked 15 times before, and an untold number of times on other worlds. But for the moment the line was holding and no thanks to the untold number of people who had given their lives for every inch of it. 

Its always been easy to think it as such, easy when you sit in a trench and wait for the enemy to come to you. But not for us Strikers, we need to go out, we need to go to the enemy. We gather intelligence on the enemy strength, what kind of drones are coming our way and more importantly how many are coming our way.

Now some would say that everyone in these trenches are soldiers, but not us Strikers. We have a sort of unofficial code, that you are only a soldier when you have earned the right, and because we go where death is almost certain then you become very pessimistic about your chances. This I was taught by my predecessor, the original Chief.

I still remember him, he was like a father for us in the Team, My greatest memory was after my first mission, when he took a piece of rock no bigger than my pinky finger, made some line into a necklace and handed it over to me, saying "Congratulations soldier" when before that moment he only ever called me Reg as in Regular or Kid. That's when I had earned the right to be called soldier in the eyes of the Strikers.

And it goes even further than that, we Strikers tell our new recruits a simple thing, that they will die but the question is how quick. The Official record for a rookie dying on mission was 32 minutes. Yep that individual was dead after only 32 minutes behind the line, the shortest was 17 seconds, so now we tell those that survive, that by surviving their first mission, they are no longer rooks but instead Veterans.

All of us are veterans even those who only had one mission on their belt, all Veterans because regardless of age whether they be 20, 30, 50 or even 16 they survive, then they are Veterans. And yes I am serious one member of my Team is only 16, hell you'd never see any Striker over the age of 21, we don't get a long life if you get my meaning.

Chapter 3: No Air Cover

As I moved through the world I remember much, but the Command post was my priority, but on occasion my attention was taken by the ruins that the Trenches and defences had been built around or within. Some of them were small, shops, six stories turned Two. Some huge, several levels but very little flooring. I often wonder what life was like before the world burned, before when there must of been green fields and great cities where people could walk around without having to watch what their doing or constantly scan the skies for incoming missiles.

These buildings had use for us though, some of them had the mortar positions embedded atop them, others had heavy calibre weaponry on multiple floors ready to fire down on the enemy should they make a move against us. All of our weapons are better than what you Humans use, projectile weapons are a thing of the past, and are pretty much useless when your enemy only ever use combat drones with metal armour plating. No we learned very quick to use more powerful plasma based weaponry which is incredibly hot on impact burning its way through the armour, or in the case of the enemy burning its way through our bodies.

But as I moved the mangled, broken battle scarred remnants of the streets and defensive positions and trenches, I began to notice something wrong, the air was still filled with grit from the constant explosives going off. But the air was becoming a little more quieter, as if the battlefield was moving further away.

That is something that never happens here, the sounds only get closer or ease they never stop and they never ever move away. As I looked up I saw the reason, the missiles were still flying through the air from the enemy, but the constant patter of smoke and fire from our Anti Air defences had stopped, this was very bad, they were the only things keeping the enemy heavy aerials from strafing our positions or dropping high explosives from up high.

I immediately began to run in the direction of the Sector Command. Buried beneath the remains of an old warehouse, they had converted the old sewers and basements beneath the location into a fully functional sector station, a place where the defence of the whole sector of the planet was coordinated. As I charged through soldiers from all species began moving out and running in the direction of the front, troops outside began setting up more positions for firing but this time from above, meaning they were pointing all their guns and rockets upwards to fight any enemy that might come above.

In other words something was wrong with our Anti Air guns.

I charged through with greater importance than before, into the mess of the near endless passages of tunnels and emptied sewers, with various attached rooms. All of them marked out obviously from the largest room being the medical wing, where I could hear the abysmal screams and cries of the poor soul suffering from the plasma burns or metal shards from the rockets, all the way to the armoury where I spied several engineers passing out rifle after rifle, launcher after launcher, High Cal after high cal. 

But my priority was the command centre, where looking over paper and holo-maps over our sector of the planet. The peered over every inch of ground they had mapped out, like they were searching for something, something that mattered more than anything at the moment.

I made my presence known "Commander" I stood too and at attention.

"Ah L.T" the Commander identified himself, a Aton of age, one of the few left from his generation. "I take a guess that you've seen"

"Yes sir" I stood at ease and relaxed "The Anti Air are not firing at anything flying around...... we've already got small scout drones zipping around"

The Commander looked up from the maps "Aye.... already their sending more and more across No mans Land..... it won't be long until the heavier ships move in and start dropping their payloads of high ex bombs or worse" He of course was referring to the drop pods that the enemy use to deploy units from the air usually the standard humanoid infantry units but sometimes they like to drop Craboids.

"With the amount of standard Crabs.... one pod carriers we'll be overwhelmed in minutes" Another officer stated "And I bet... they'll launch a simultaneous attack on the front to catch us in a pincer.

"L.T... I'd hate to ask this but we need the Strikers to move out now......" The Commander muttered "We have managed to identify a signals jamming tower in this area" He pointed out on a map, to a spot just on the other side of the Mortem Line, where no doubt they'll be a lot of heavies moving around ready to slaughter us should we make a move on them. "We believe the signal jammer is preventing our A.A guns from targeting the enemy air craft.... we need the Strikers to go out and take out that Jammer......."

I paused for a moment because of one unmistakable fact "Sir..... we Might be able to take out the target.... but the matter of getting there is suicide...... without A.A cover our Drop-ships won't be able to get past the enemy Aerials"

"I know..... but we've no other choice..... you and I both know that every minute we hold gives the others sectors a chance to prepare" The Commander declared "Get you team ready...... you leave in as soon as your ready"

Chapter 4: Fire from the Skies

Don't really remember much about the fly over, I can only remember that the so called jolly fly over the endless trenches and defensive emplacements was very quick to turn into an emptiness of an ash covered landscape, endless ruins and half buried defences that we had left behind from the last retreat over a decade ago. Believe me I know I got left behind. I'll tell you that story later.

But as we passed over the trenches I peaked out the open door at the back of the drop-ship, Plasma rifle in hand, watching for anything that might come at us as we fly around their territory. But that wasn't a concern after a while. Because soon the air became peppered with small explosions of smoke and fire, all of which was coming from below and ahead of us. We all knew what it was, Enemy Anti Aircraft fire, their first line of defence against us Strikers, first they would pepper us with anti Air fire to try and shoot us down before we got beyond no mans land. Then if that failed they would engage us on the ground with their drone forces, we would fight our way past the smaller buggers they would throw at us, then of course at some point they would bring in an aerial or a heavy tank to butcher us, followed up by standard humanoid drones to pick off the survivors and ensure that we were all definitely  dead.

The sky was filled with these little peppered spots of smoke though, but this time because all striker teams were on this mission, our drop ships were all in the air, meaning we had little room to manoeuvre. Soon over the radio I began to hear the cries of the poor souls who were burning alive in drop ships that had gotten a direct hit, From other drop ships I heard their calls for extraction as they began to fall to the ground.

Our ship was lucky though because as the other ships got hit or blown to smithereens, our pilot was able to find room to weave and jink, allowing him to avoid the worst of the anti air, he also increased our speed to full throttle. The advantage of this was that we got to the target quicker and could move faster than the anti air could get a lock on, the disadvantage was that we had to close the ramp door, so when we got there we would have to slow down, land and then lower the ramp so we could get out, thus giving the enemy time, to get ready to kill us all.

We just had to sit back and hope that we made it through alive, after all if the line was to hold we needed to take out that signal jammer, else the line will be, not could be, Will Be, broken.

The second we got close to the target, was very clear, the Pilot gave us the warning by a light in the section we had sat in the whole time, a single red light pointing out we needed to get ready. So we did, we got off our arses and checked all our equipment, everything had to be certain, weapons, comms, explosives.  I gave out the word "Check!"

Then one by one the replies came "Check....Check.....Check....Check...Check......Check.....Check"

This meant that everyone had looked at everything and had confirmed that they were set and ready to go, with all their equipment as it should be. We stood side by side, a column of two lines running down the ship, waiting for the word, waiting for the green light.

We felt the clonk of the Drop ship landing, then with that second, the rush came, the ramp dropped not lowered, dropped adding another dent into the metal framework. We instantly charged out to the hail of plasma shots zipping around us, the enemy were ready for us as they always are, one of the lads was unlucky, one of the Huan boys got a plasma shot straight into his chest, scorched its way straight through his internal organs. He died in an instant, thankfully.

But there was no time to grieve, we kept up the fight, returning fire against the Humanoid Drones we called Walkers. We took them down easy enough and pushed on, moving to the Jamming tower. 

As we got closer I looked up and saw the attack beginning, the sky was filled with an untold number of enemy aerials. Some of them bombers ready to reign fire down our line, others carrying drop pods and Craboids, which they'll drop from the sky behind our lines. This was a queue for us to hurry the hell up, I gave the word to push forward, our Chin member moved up with a heavy weapon and began to provide us with covering fire, whilst one of our Aton friends began to dig, it was his favourite move to dig a small tunnel for themselves, he would go under the enemy and pop up from below.

The rest of us moved forward with this covering fire, but it was still a tough fight, trying to push through the enemy that were entrenched and ready to fight against anything we brought up. Then the real threat came when from above the enemy brought in reinforcements, one of the Aerials above dropped down a Craboid, a medium sized drone archetype, who had four legs, a strong armoured body and two heavy rapid fire cannons for arms.

This was a real problem for us, we were here on a quick smash and run op. We were not ready to fight something like that. I mean Craboids are not invincible, but without heavy weapons it takes a lot of concentrated fire to put them down. Thankfully for us, one of our Aton friends was underground and collapsed his little tunnel, beneath the legs of the Craboid, so it fell on its side, unable to get back up and return fire and wipe us out, one team member managed to get a grenade inside the armour plating.

With this last threat dealt with, we finally was able to get to the actual tower. Half of the team, got themselves into a defensive perimeter whilst the rest of us covered the bloody thing with explosive charges. 

And we needed to hurry, because all I could was watch as the Aerials got closer and closer to the our Line. Once they got past the front, they would undoubtedly unleash their cargo of bombs and drones. 

Something I knew for certain was that back at the line, there would be everyone capable of fighting getting ready, fighters getting themselves set up, with weapons of all kinds, rifles, rapid fire heavy cannons, launchers, whatever they could use. All of them no doubt aiming up into the air, ready to fire every shot they had against the incoming.

I could only imagine their fear as the aerials got closer and closer, until they were almost over head, thinking of only the inevitable death that was coming in that moment.

From what I know though, such watton death that was to be expected upon that day. But it never came, from what I've been told from those who watched it all happen, the Aerials were on the brink of sending down the drop pods or unleashing the explosives down upon them, when all of a sudden they pulled away and turned around, just as once again the air began to pepper with anti aircraft.

We, the Strikers had fulfilled our mission, at an great cost as always, but no one really cared. After all this is what we do, we fight and we die, just so someone somewhere can build something or prepare something, or even get something to fly.

But right now those of us who are still alive have a place to go. To honour the dead.

Chapter 5: In this Room and in this War

That mission was a bad one. 

I didn't know it until We got back safely that over all 22 striker teams that went on that particular job, only 2 made it out alive. Including ours, the other team got shot down in no mans land and had to crawl back under heavy fire from the enemy Mechatanks.

This made things bad for us, with only two Striker units on our little section of the line it means that we were in a bad spot. Strikers do more than just go behind the enemy and cause trouble, but more importantly gather intelligence and collect information on what is coming, where the strong points of the enemy installations are and if our artillery can reach them.

Now we needed more of them, command couldn't spare them from other sections along our sector line, but instead we would be forced to train them from the freshest batch of recruits who wanted to join up for a while. Ordinarily the possible recruits would be sent through various phases of training and preparation before being assigned to a unit. Now though they were only getting the training, and instead of being assigned they were being formed into entirely new units, with almost no veterans or true strikers among them.

My first introduction to one such team came in the Striker Dug out, a little place we carry with us you could say from line to line. At least on our planet anyway. Its a tradition going back to the beginning of the war, where strikers when not resting or on mission would come together and enjoy hard liquor, music and songs with those who had earned the right to enter. 

Dug into an old basement we had expanded over the months, it was originally a bar cellar but it was now the bar. We had moved the bar line itself down underneath alongside a variety of instruments that could still be used, alongside of course all the stools and chairs we could put back together. But the piece of importance was a single board of chalk held on a roof beam exactly 5 steps in.

The board is of great importance for all of us in the Striker Corps, for it identifies who has earned what. Divided into three columns, each with a word above, the first on the left is Rookie. Those who have yet to go on their first mission and come back to tell the tale, Second Veterans, those who have survived at least one mission but have not been confirmed by the other members of the Corps to be true Strikers.

And Finally Strikers, those among us who had done enough in this war to be granted that right. For obvious reasons that list of names has been shortened a great deal. When only a day ago there would have been well over 30 to 40 names among the Veterans and the Strikers, now though there are only 17 Strikers and 9 Veterans. But the list of Rookies is well over 50.  Personally I don't see them as Rookies, not real ones anyway, they got a free pass into the corps as far as I'm concerned.

One of these Rookie Teams came in expecting to join the fun, thinking oh yeah we'll go in and be treated as equals among the Suicide teams. Not a chance.

They got as far as the entrance to the basement, barely three steps inside before they were stopped by the Chin of my team, we don't really have names, you should have guessed that by now. Instead we refer ourselves by our rank, but in his case he's the only Chin on the team so we call him that..... He doesn't mind. 

Anyway, he stopped them in their tracks, "I am afraid young ones that we cannot allow you entrance into this establishment" He blocked their path and declared "This place is reserved for either Veterans or Strikers.... you are neither yet"

One of the Rooks made a back quib "We are Strikers.... We're all in the Fight"

That caught everyone's attention, the Music stopped, everyone put their drinks down and stood up to confront the new comers. This got them a little bit scared, after all these kids had only just joined the corps and they had the nerve to call themselves Strikers!. Chin really took offence after all in our team we are the only family we have left and we were trying to honour the loss of a brother, a true striker.

And as much as I would have loved to let the those who had earned the right to enter, beat the pissin hell out of these pretenders. But this was meant to be a night of peace for us all, so I gave my opinion. "Stand down the lot of you.... go back to your drinks before they go off".

Out of respect they all slowly began to amble back to their places and placed their respective hands/claws around their drinks, but none even considered taking a drink. No they just stared ominously at the "Pretenders", whilst I got up from my very comfortable half broken chair, one of the few with actual cushions still attached.

I eyed up the "Pretenders", looking over them all very carefully, they were kids for crying out loud, the youngest was 15 years the oldest at a guess 18. And they were calling themselves Strikers!.

"You see that board up there" I pointed back and up towards the the list of names, "Do you see where your name is on it"

"Rookies" One said

"Thats right" I replied "And do you know the record for the longest time a rookie survived their first mission before being killed" None of them answered "32 minutes...... until you survive your first mission you are a Rookie...... and until then you are not granted access here....."

"Why not?" another asked "We're all in this fight aren't we" 

That really grilled me "We are not the same kid...... my team have 23 successful missions beyond the line...... you have none...... and until you actually do anything your not in this war...... Let alone the Strikers" I stared them down with this comment, then pointed to the door.

Chapter 6: Years Later

Lets see If my memory serves me right, I was around 18 when I started this story, Or at least I think I was.

Ah it doesn't matter, no one celebrates their birthdays anymore. Hell I don't even remember when mine is, after all that sort of thing no longer matters in a universe where you can literally die at any moment. These days we celebrate every moment we are alive, we still have the bar, only.

Its no longer in the basement of an actual bar.

No we had to move it, at least a year of two ago, about 6 months after I last told this story of mine, The enemy managed to break through the front. We were overwhelmed by the sheer numbers again, but we put one hell of a fight.

They sent forward thousands of their Humanoid Infantry units supported by hundreds of the Craboids, alongside the larger heavy tanks which reigned fire down on our heads, whether that be High Ex Rockets or high concentrate Plasma shots.

Within a matter of hours we were forced to abandon the forward lines, our defences took down a good number of the heavy tanks and crabs, but the sheer number of the assaulting forces, made it impossible to stay. Believe me I remember it, the trench where me and my guys once had our personnel dug out for our sleeping quarters. We had to abandon that as well during the assault.  We left some little surprises for them of course, a few booby traps and mines to buy some more time for the "Tactical Withdraw".

For the better part of four maybe five days our entire section of the line kept up a fighting retreat, ensuring that the enemy could not simply ride right over us. But we knew that we weren't going to last long once the last unit still fighting, was wiped out trying to defend the Anti Air Batteries, once we lost them, the order came for all units to abandon their positions and get the hell out of there before the enemy began to send in drop pods or fire bombs.

Now here we are on the second to last line on this planet, after this there is almost nothing stopping the enemy from being able to move on to the next planet. We all had a choice to make.

Now ordinarily the Federations High Command would consider evacuating as many troops as possible before the enemy launched another offensive of some kind. But there was something else going on, and I knew it was going to be not a last Evacuation.

But Our LAST STAND.

Chapter 7: The Reason and the Plan

Six weeks..... Six pissin weeks of nothing but waiting. Usually when the Mortem Line advances, command sends us out beyond No Mans Land to try and gather intelligence, salvage equipment and search for any possible survivors that might have survived the onslaught and took shelter underground. But no, they have had us just sit here waiting for orders.

Its gotten so boring that our bar is running low on everything, from the simplest booze to the hardiest Liquor, usually they have time to "Resupply" when most of the teams are out on mission, but since no one is going on missions, they are finding it hard to give the Mills a chance to produce the supply.

I remember, because I was sat in a chair, looking over an empty glass. I had spent an Hour looking over that empty glass, despite the numerous attempts people kept offering to give me a refill, I would just shake my head and stare into the emptiness. When from almost no where, a soldier stood before me and saluted.

"Sorry sir... but the Commander wants to speak to you" She Said.

I just grunted and pulled myself up, as I shuffled my way to the exit, I looked back to our board, still hanging high up for everyone to see. I looked at the names, the list of Rookies was empty, not a single name, The poor sods who had gotten an easy transfer into the corps had as with most of them Died on their first mission or had lived and earned the title of Veteran. But what struck me was the number of names, barely enough for three maybe four teams at full strength.

I knew for sure that we had lost this world just like we had lost hundreds of others. This war has been pissin long like I have already said, I highly doubt that the war will end before my time comes.

When I got to Command, things were all over the place, troops were rushing around that wasn't really strange, but what I did notice was that there were a great number of pilots rushing out of the building. That was something that was a very clear hallmark for an up and coming mission, and from the number of them meant something very big and important.

I entered the command centre and there in the middle was the new Command in Chief of this whole planets battle. A Huan no more than a few years older than me, but someone who had very clearly see a great amount of combat every semblance of skin that could be seen was covered in battle scars, this was someone that we Striker could follow, and it turns out we were going to do so.

He looked from his holo table map and I could tell that was not a place I had seen, I knew from the look it was no where near where we were in that moment. That Meant only one thing, we were going well beyond the line, I was right but not in the way I could ever thought possible.

The Commander stared me in the eye and I finally plucked up the courage to ask what was happening, and with great care to mark out the detail, he explained what was happening and why we needed so many pilots.

"This L.T is the most important mission we have ever undertook in this whole war" He stated "Intelligence has pin pointed that the enemy are planning on unleashing of great power against us..... something we have dubbed the Purifier"

"Purifier?" I questioned

His look shifted to one of almost fear and terror "A Super weapon.... a device capable of wiping out all life on a planet with a single blow..... A Doomsday Device for all intent and purposes....."

This made me terrified as well for all the destruction we had faced before, I could imagine what this weapon could do.  "One blow and we're all gone"

That wasn't the worst part though "That isn't the most devastating point though..... We believe the weapon is portable, capable of being transported from one planet to another..... Our world is the test site" He paused and took a strong breath before continuing "If successful they intend on using it on every planet that they still fighting on and then on those they haven't invaded yet"

That meant all the years of holding the line so other somewhere can build better defences or bigger ships, larger guns, deeper trenches, thicker walls and trained troops. It would all be for nothing. The only option was clear, make sure that thing never leaves this planet. That was why there were so many pilots around the place, we were going to need every drop ship, everything and anything that can carry troops across great distances.

"That's why we need to make our first offensive" The Commander Declared "For too long we've been on the defensive... now its time to make a move that hopefully we give us a chance"

He returned to the Holo Map, "Now the plan is simple.... but hopefully give us time...... All our reserves are being brought forward......" The map shifted as the emblems of different battalions and platoons moved to the front "They and the troops already there, will launch a counter attack with the support of artillery and mobile anti air batteries...... whilst the enemy focus on this, we should have enough transports to get a least four battalions of troops across the line and to the actual site of the weapon..... once there we launch an all out offensive....... no retreat...... its all or nothing......no matter what that weapon cannot leave this world"

I could feel a question was coming from him "So here's why I asked you here...... for this attack I am asking only for volunteers..... I've already got enough troops ready but..... What I'm asking is if you and the other strikers are willing to come with us........" He paused again "Are you all willing to sacrifice your lives so that others may have a chance of life"

That was a stupid question after all...... Our entire lives have built up to this moment, there was no going back, our parents, grandparents, great grandparents all died so that others could live. We were going to be no different, if it means we hold the Line here for another minute..... We'll definitly come along.

Chapter 8: Our Last Stand..... NO RETREAT

We flew over the emptiness of the world once more, every striker still alive on this once beautiful world. I remember stories I was told as a kid, of how this planet was once a green world, full of endless fields and even forest, vast oceans of H2o. But as the war spread across the landscape, the Oceans either froze deep beneath the surface or evaporated in the endless fires, the beautiful landscape turned to red and brown ash and sand.  Once great cities were now empty or just rubble, some were now only resembled rocks and mountains.

Over the comm links I could hear the endless messages coming from the troops at the front, the screams and the cries of pain. But above all I could hear them shouting the same thing over and over again "NO RETREAT!". That was the battle cry for this mission, not Hold the Line, no, No Retreat. This was it, either we win in this battle or the war will be over for everyone.

I could only imagine the endless death that was being brought upon them, having to push or try and push through the endless crabs and Infantry units never mind the heavy tanks that they would roll forward to wipe out any tough resistance.

But for us the mission was clear..... we needed to be ready. We landed a reasonable distance from the target, about a good two miles to try and make a forward post for us to co-ordinate our efforts. The Commander wanted me to take my team and one of the platoons and supporting mobile Anti air Straight up the middle, through the meat grinder, it would be tough but we were strikers and we were made for this. 

After all We were the Suicide Corps. According to some.

Our job was to die for others to live..... or in this case we were to fight and die so that death cannot come so easily for others.

Together with my team we moved up past the supporting elements that were to hold position, protect the support, meaning the mortars and anti air batteries. Without them it would be even harder to get through. After these guys though it was the brutal world we had been born too, every step that lead us closer to the enemy central core where the weapon was to be found, lead us closer to the enemy troops. Closer to the weapons fire from enemy defence turrets and their already incoming reinforcements.

Barely a quarter of the way there, we had lost half of the platoon accompanying us, there bodies stretching from the support troops to the spot I was hunkered down from plasma fire. We had no choice we had to keep moving it was all or nothing, I instructed the Aton to start digging, the Chin to provide covering fire, whilst the Huan of our units moved up and flank the enemy fire.

The Aton were successful, they popped up just the way they like, appearing just behind the enemy drones and turrets. But it did come at a cost, I could only watch as the next enemy to come along, A Crab mowed them down, as if they were nothing, not sentient beings, not living creatures, not even the lowest form of life. But just Nothing. I had been raised alongside those Aton, they were my brothers and now I had lost them. I will see them again.

But their sacrifice had given a small glimmer of a chance to break through, for as the Crab was mowing them down, we managed to direct Mortar fire in support, giving us a small hole to get through.  Charging up the hill I turned back and saw the support units coming under heavy fire, it was clear that any support we had before was now focused on supporting itself. We were well and truly on our own.

I turned my attention to the overwhelming look of the great fortress before us, the monstrosity was the home of our Doom, a great dome built from the strongest metals and stone. All of it to seal in the greatest weapon ever created, something that some would call a planet Killer.

But me it was death, and we needed to stop it and make sure no one could ever use it again. Weapon in hand I charged, head on towards the closest door. Small enough to ensure that the crabs couldn't follow us, but that also meant that a certain Brother couldn't. Chin, the only member of his species on our team wouldn't get through thanks to his natural armour and size.

He looked back at us and nodded, He knew what he had to do. He closed the door and even with the thickness of the metal I could hear the constant spray of plasma fire coming from his weapon, He was going to fulfil his mission, Hold the line.

I swore in that moment I would ensure that his sacrifice would be worth it, we will ensure that the mission will be a success, that weapon will not leave this planet. We pushed through the endless corridors, following row after row of power cables that we knew were feeding the weapon, yet for every twist and turn, we found ourselves having to fight off more and more infantry units. That was a clue we were getting closer, after all why waste units against a small number of opponents unless your desperately trying to defend something.

We got to it in the end but it was just us, the remnants of my team, just the four of us.

At the entrance I was entranced with the size of the weapon itself, It looked like some giant Fusion Reactor, with massive and small cables connecting it to the walls. I gave the word, "You lads wait outside and hold them off.... I'll plant the charges"

They did as they were ordered, moving straight out the door and then, I heard and Clang. They had locked it, I knew instantly what that meant for me, they were going to do the exact same as Chin, hold off the enemy long enough for me to plant the charges and set them off.

As I placed carefully each and every charge onto different points of the weapon, yet as I was doing so I heard another clank and then a clunk, I noticed the wires were unlocking themselves and dropping to the floor, still attached to the walls but not the weapon. I realised then it was a power line, when the weapon reaches a certain power level it must dissattach the power lines in order to prevent an overload.

Finally set I heard the crash on the door, I readied the detonator, but then a shot rang out and I felt a surging pain across my right shoulder. I dropped the detonator and turned around, falling to the floor I hit the metal floor and rolled for cover, Peaking around I saw a standard Infantry drone standing in the open door, advancing slowly towards me weapon in hand.

I crawled all the way around the weapon to try and flank it, but it followed me, then I heard a crack and crunch. Peaking again I saw my downfall, the Drone had stepped on and crushed the Detonator. There was nothing left now. Grabbing my rifle I unleashed every shot I had to take it.

But in the end it was for nothing, all the sacrifices we have given to get here, and now it was gone, without the detonator, there was no way for us to set of the charges, hell even if I was to shoot at them with a plasma rifle it won't set them off. 

But then I saw them.

Chapter 9: No Choice

I saw the Electrical Wiring leading from the walls to the weapon, they had all detached from it, meaning it was at full power. But then I wondered what would happen if I reattached them, surely the weapon would overload and destroy itself in the process.

With great pain I pulled myself up to my feat and feeling my scorched skin pulling and breaking from the extent of the charring on my flesh. I pulled one wire at a time and plugged them back in. 

But by the end of it I had the last two, "L.T we are out of time you need to do something and now" the Commanders voice went.

With a groan I replied "I can overload the weapon..... but it will still kill us all.... I have no choice....... Its been an honour sir". I Drove the last two wires back in, but the feeling of the power surge tried pushing back, I had to stand firm and keep pushing, if I let go then the wires would go flying and the weapon won't overload.

"No L.T..... the Honour was mine....... See you on the other side" 

Then bang, the electrical power surging through the wires, starting pushing through me. I could feel my own nervous system being overloaded in its self. All the way to my brain, My fear and Sub concious was demanding I let go and save myself.

But the Conscious mind said no and not only because the surge of electricity was preventing me from moving but because for everything we have done we needed to make it all worth it. I held on.

With the Fire coming from weapon. I began to lose my sight as the weapon unleashed its power.

Then.....

Well that's it...... I mean isn't it rather obvious I died...... We all Died.... the weapon overloaded and destroyed itself but in the process it destroyed everything on the planet. 

All life whether it be us or them were destroyed and obliterated. And as the years went on the endless sands and dust of the planet began to cover it all up like we were never here.

But I don't care 

Chapter 10: Nothing But a Rock

We did our duty.... We committed ourselves to the mission at hand.... our Mission was to hold the line and we Fulfilled that mission...... We were sent in to ensure that the enemy could not threaten us with extinction by using a Purifier Doomsday Device.....We Dealt with that Threat..... for it what was what we were born to do......

I don't know If we won the war.... if we survived the war...... If we Held the Line as we Swore to do.....

All I know is that its been about a hundred or two of your Years and now here you are looking upon me and thinking I am nothing but a rock in the sand, On a Red Planet you Call

MARS!