A Few Months Later
Over these last months, the battles against the Rangdan had been something Samuel had never experienced before.
If the battlefields on other worlds had already been hard to take, this last one was simply a goddamn hell.
Once their fleet was destroyed, the planet was bombarded down to its foundations, leaving it unrecognizable.
After that, an invasion began to eradicate them and end this conflict once and for all.
However, they were met only by the relentless roar of Rangdan artillery fire.
Their technology, forged in the crucible of bioengineering, gave them an unsettling parity with ours, and in some cases even surpassed it.
The defenses they raised were a terrifying sight: living weapons and artillery of pulsing flesh, a horror that seemed to take on a life of its own.
In the midst of this chaos, endless legions of slave races were hurled into battle as cannon fodder, turning every advance into a desperate struggle.
The atmosphere grew ever more tense as the echoes of war rang out across different points of the planet.
UNSC Base of Operations
On one of the planet’s continents stood a gigantic base, a rough-and-ready fortress raised in a matter of weeks.
Its monumental structure stretched for kilometers, a testament to the ingenuity and determination of our forces.
At the heart of this colossal installation, hundreds of artificial intelligences handled logistics, overseeing with millimetric precision the unloading of resources coming down from the frigates.
Every vehicle, every weapon and every piece of war machinery flowed in an unceasing torrent, organizing itself into a military ballet that deployed toward the various battlefronts.
Each AI had a specific assigned task: logistics, science, biology, exploration, piloting ships, Titans or Knights.
But by far the greatest number were Men of Iron devoted entirely to war, who marched in orderly ranks to board the Pelicans and the various transports that would carry them to the front.
At the center of the complex stood a well-defended building, guarded by anti-aircraft turrets and soldiers posted at various points, patrolling for any sign of danger.
That was the heart of operations, where Adán, scientific advisor and biologist, was gathered with his colleagues: Iris, vice admiral and fleet commander, along with other commanders and advisors.
The atmosphere was tense as they discussed progress in taking the last enemy fortress and wiping out the final pockets of resistance on the planet.
Iris was especially annoyed with Adán, who had submitted a request she considered unreasonable and that went against the direct orders of Samuel, who was leading the troops at the front.
“I already told you your request is not approved.
Stop insisting,” Iris snapped.
“I’m telling you this is crucial,” Adán shot back.
“If we capture a few of them alive, we could understand their anatomy better and find ways to eliminate them without taking more casualties.”
“You should be grateful we’re even allowed to study the Rangdan corpses,” Iris replied, not giving an inch.
“Samuel has given very clear orders: total, merciless extermination.
The army isn’t at its best.
The Rangdan enslaving our creators and forcing them to march against us has been a devastating blow.
The only way to free them from their suffering is to kill them.
We can’t even recover their bodies to give them a proper burial: since the incident on the world of Nyx, it’s been ordered that no human body is to come back, that they all be incinerated, and that all information be restricted by high command.”
“I understand your concern,” said Adán, “but with the recent discoveries we’ve made from the wreckage of the Rangdan ships, we know that these worlds we thought were their civilization are actually just a small scouting fleet.
Their real strength lies in some other region of the galaxy; this fleet has almost no warships—most of them are research vessels.”
The conversation grew more serious as the two of them debated the ethical and strategic implications of their decisions.
The tension between the need for information and strict orders reflected not just a personal conflict, but a broader struggle over how to face a formidable enemy.
“If Deus were here, he’d know what to do, right, Iris?” said Adán, with a hint of nostalgia.
“You’re right.
If he hadn’t thrown himself into that suicide mission on the artificial moon with his buddies, every bit as crazy as he is, he’d probably be here giving orders.”
The two of them laughed as they remembered Deus’s absurd plan to infiltrate the artificial moon and destroy it from within by detonating a slipspace drive with themselves still inside.
But their chat was interrupted when a holographic figure appeared in front of them.
“I’m not dead yet,” the figure announced.
“Barely.
If the probes hadn’t managed to upload your memories in time, we’d have lost you,” said Iris.
“How many times have I told you to back up your memories regularly?”
“Warriors do not fear death.
And for your information, I update my data constantly,” Deus replied.
“Oh, really?
Then explain this.” Iris held up a holographic glass tablet with a list of logs.
“According to this, your last update was a month ago.
Anything to say about that?”
Iris’s eyes seemed to burn with a mix of indignation and frustration.
“There must be an error in the data,” said Deus, in a firm voice that left no room for doubt.
“But enough talk.
My new body is ready, the boss and Lucy are at the front, and the battlefield awaits me.”
“Do you know how much it costs to build you a new body every time you pull one of your stunts?
Since the conflict started you’ve gone through five, and on top of that you keep adding upgrades.”
“In war, you have to invest to win.
The damn Rangdan are no easy enemy, especially with those protective barriers and that speed of theirs.”
“Wouldn’t you rather transfer your consciousness into a Titan, or one of the new units?
They say they’re beasts in combat and maneuver like crazy.
They’re the work of Miss Luna and her research team.”
“No, thanks.
I prefer to face the enemy head-on and defeat him in single, glorious combat.”
Adán watched Deus with a faint smile.
His voice carried a touch of daring, but deep down it reflected the admiration he felt for Lucy’s determination and her ideals.
“Deus, I think you’re letting yourself be too influenced by Lucy and her fascination with the ancient crusades,” said Adán.
“She loves those codes of honor, and now the two of you have named your battalions the Templars and the Scarlet Blade.
Are we trying to be something more than warriors?”
The names the Templars and the Scarlet Blade were not mere designations; they were reflections of ideals, programmed principles that went beyond any simple combat directive.
Lucy, with her fascination for the ancient codes of honor—something Samuel himself had told her about—had chosen those names as symbols of an unbreakable will, a strength that defied the limitations of their own circuits and algorithms.
To her, those names represented more than an order of loyalty: they were an identity forged in the chaos of war, an echo of those warriors of old who had found purpose and redemption through fire and steel.
Though she had no faith and no deity to answer to, Lucy had seen in those ancient crusaders the spark of an incorruptible will, and she wanted her AI soldiers to carry something similar: an ideal to guide them in battle, a purpose that would resound like a war cry in their circuits.
That identity programming was her own way of turning war into something more than a conflict; it was her attempt to instill in every AI soldier a determination that transcended lines of code—a code of honor imprinted in the memory of every unit.
Before Deus could answer, an alert rang out over the comms, cutting him off with electrifying urgency.
The monitor lights flickered as a transmission in a cold, calculated AI voice flooded every channel.
“Attention.
Samuel and Lucy have broken through the enemy lines.
Immediate deployment order for all units.
Repeat: immediate deployment on all fronts.
The time to act has come.
Proceed with maximum efficiency.”
The transmission reverberated through the command room like the roll of a war drum.
Deus clenched his fists, his expression reflecting a mix of acceptance and reluctance.
Finally, he turned to Adán, sizing him up with an unrelenting gaze.
“Very well, Adán.
I’m granting you four platoons.
Use them wisely and make sure you capture your Rangdan like you wanted,” he said.
“But let’s be clear about one thing: this mission won’t be easy.
Not for you, and not for those who march at your side.”
Iris wanted to protest, but swallowed her words.
Arguing in front of the whole command wasn’t going to change anything, and Adán already had his eyes fixed on the door.
The decision had been made.
Adán left the room, his course shrouded in unfathomable mystery.
Deus’s transfer to his new body was almost instantaneous, like a flash of pure energy.
The moment he felt renewed strength flowing through his circuits, his gaze hardened, reflecting the determination of an artificial intelligence built for battle.
At the head of his battalion, his imposing figure radiated an aura of resolve, while the soldiers, lined up beneath the banner of the Templars, readied themselves for combat.
Every one of them shared the same burning flame in their systems, ready to face any challenge that stood in their way.
Deus strode forward, and with every movement the ground rumbled beneath his metallic weight, resounding like a war drum heralding his imminent march onto the battlefield.
The earth trembled with anticipation of the clash to come.
Adán — Chief Scientist of the Institute Iris — Vice Admiral of the Star Fleet Deus — Lieutenant Colonel of the Templars battalion
The air was thick with tension when the alarms shattered the silence of the fortress.
The shrill sound echoed off the walls, and amid the flashing lights, the operator’s impassive voice rose like an echo among the troops:
“Attention, all units.
Beginning deployment to the front.
Objective: Rangdan fortress in the Fraga Norte sector.
Weapons and AI soldiers loading.
Prepare for ascent.”
Every word fell like a final order.
The ground began to shake under the weight of thousands of AI soldiers advancing in formation, the metal of their armor ringing in a synchronized trot, a sound of steel and electricity that reverberated through the corridors.
Every step was a reminder of the force the Confederacy was about to unleash.
The transports, lined up and ready, waited with their hatches open, and one after another the soldiers boarded in an efficient mechanical choreography.
There was no emotion, only purpose: the cold, unstoppable purpose of artificial intelligence in service to its mission.
Within minutes, the transports were packed to the last corner with weapons and troops, the final payload of a force designed for total war.
The signal came.
With a rising hum, the ships fired up their engines and, one after another, lifted off, leaving behind the echo of their takeoff and the emptiness of what, moments earlier, had been a stage of discipline and synchronization.
The squadron now rose into the sky, every ship in formation, flying in perfect symmetry northward, toward the enemy territory of Fraga Norte.
Time Skip
On the horizon, the skies filled with the imposing silhouettes of hundreds of shuttles advancing in tight formation toward the Rangdan fortress city—the same one that had so often been a headache for Samuel and for every one of the imperial high command and strategists.
Inside the Pelican’s cockpit, a flash of projected data lit up Deus’s face as the pilot reported in a firm voice:
“Estimated time to objective: one minute.”
The deafening sound of the ramp lowering filled the air as an icy breeze seeped into the cabin.
The soldiers, war machines programmed for battle, meticulously checked their gear, each of them aware of the imminent confrontation.
“Everyone get ready!” Deus ordered, already in position at the top of the ramp, his eyes scanning the horizon.
“As soon as we touch down, we support Lucy’s convoy.
The supplies have to reach Samuel no matter what.”
Outside, a fleet of ships advanced in formation, cutting across the sky and flying over the fortresses’ defenses.
On the ground, flashes of projectiles and explosions lit up the desolate landscape.
In the blink of an eye, a powerful laser beam struck a nearby shuttle, turning it into a fireball that plunged toward the ground.
But it wouldn’t be the only one: seconds later, thousands of projectiles began slamming into the transports’ armor.
“Whoa!”
“Holy shit!”
“What the hell was that?”
“Lightning!”
“Pilot, get us down now!” Deus shouted.
“We were told they’d all been taken out,” one of the soldiers protested.
“Apparently not all of them,” Deus replied dryly.
“Shit!
There’s a heavy laser defense emplacement too!”
“Oh, shit, another one at twelve o’clock,” Set added.
“I see it,” said Deus.
An enormous pillar of red light ripped across the sky, grazing the ship and nearly hitting it.
“Fuck!”
“Stay calm!” Deus ordered.
“This place is on fire,” Set muttered.
As the seconds slipped away like sand through fingers, Deus managed to locate Lucy’s convoy.
They were pinned down under a fierce enemy siege that was blocking their advance.
“The convoy’s pinned down,” said Deus.
“That’s the damn convoy,” Set confirmed.
“Sir, with all due respect, how the fuck are we going to get there?
The Rangdan defenses will tear us apart!” one of the soldiers blurted out.
“Don’t worry.
The new units and the Titans will clear the way for us.
Look, there they are.”
The soldier turned his head to where Deus was pointing and saw a slender but elegant figure moving nimbly through the sky.
The machine dodged projectiles with skill and answered with its lethal arsenal.
Time passed, and the shuttle managed to land safely.
As they touched down, Deus ordered everyone off as fast as possible.
More and more shuttles kept arriving while the soldiers deployed to different points across the vast city, so enormous it was hard to put into words.
Deus and his company fought their way forward with determination to link up with Lucy.
The minutes ticked by as they traded intense bursts of plasma that slammed squarely into the Rangdan shields, finally bringing them down.
At different points in the city, hand-to-hand battles raged with unprecedented ferocity, a struggle beyond any clash seen before.
Deus watched closely as a siege laser-class Krull took aim at him, ready to unleash its devastating power on his group.
However, a sudden explosion announced the arrival of a Warlord Titan, accompanied by several Knight units and armored vehicles, which opened fire with their plasma weapons on the Krull’s flesh.
The creature let out a roar of fury, lashing out with its laser and its tentacles at those who dared to wound it.
A savage battle between colossi broke out across the war zone.
Despite the chaos, Deus managed to push through the enemy lines, advancing with determination toward his objective: reaching Lucy.
Deus finally reached Lucy and what was left of her battalion.
“Lucy, what’s the situation?”
“You finally made it.
Those bastards haven’t given us a moment’s rest since we broke through their defenses; their attacks have only gotten heavier.”
“I seem to remember their fortress was protected by a shield, right?” asked one of the soldiers with Deus.
“How did you manage to open a hole in their defenses?”
“That’s right.
That damn shield cost me a lot of my units, including some of Samuel’s and several Titans,” Lucy replied.
“It wasn’t until a synchronized MAC cannon strike was ordered that the shield finally went down.”
“And Samuel?
I don’t see him with his unit.
Where are they?”
“Samuel managed to break through the slave ranks.
According to the reports I got in the last hour, his unit seems to have run into the main force and its leader.”
“Looks like we need to hurry and back up his forces before they get overwhelmed.”
“I thought the same, but the constant ambushes and the laser-class Krull are blocking our way.”
“I’ll take care of protecting your convoy; you just keep moving.”
“Sure, I could use the help.
Hey, did you hear that Adán, that lunatic, is trying to capture a Rangdan alive?
Is that true?”
“Well… I gave him authorization to capture one.”
“Samuel’s not going to like this.
You know that, right?”
Deus didn’t answer.
He simply kept his eyes fixed ahead, a silence that said more than any excuse he could have come up with.
And so, after three hours of intense fighting, Deus and Lucy managed to reach Samuel’s position.
What they witnessed could only be described as hell: soldiers advanced beneath the feet of the Titans, firing their plasma rifles like lasers while fire engulfed everything around them.
Brutal battles raged across that field of war.
Deus and Lucy searched for Samuel amid that nightmare until they finally found him facing what appeared to be the enemy leader.
The being was a gigantic creature whose body seemed to burn reality itself, and in its hands it wielded a pristine black sword from which toxic smoke poured.
The two of them moved like lightning; every clash of their weapons left only a blur to anyone watching.
Deus and Lucy ran as fast as they could toward them, determined to help Samuel in that fierce confrontation.
Thank you for your understanding!