While Antaria’s senses weren’t quite as sharp above water as they were below, she was still more than capable of taking in the all too familiar acrid stench of oily smoke and melted metal.

The sharklike Edixi woman felt her tail twist from side to side in contentment as she took in the aftermath of her regiment’s most recent victory. They’d caught the Imperials completely by surprise, and now the landscape was littered with the remains of their soldiers and machines.

Were it that I didn’t have to share my victory with others, she thought, grey skinned features twisting into a scowl as she watched a pair of Roach pirates scrambling over the still smoldering hulk of an Imperial IFV in search of possible salvage.

While she could well understand the reason for it, she still couldn’t quite accept the alien’s actions. The dead deserved respect. The enemy had fought and died with honor.

…Though as another unmistakable crackle of gunfire rang out from across the battlefield, she found she envied them that fact.

She envied them the simplicity of it. They had died with an enemy before them and their allies beside. A clear-cut division between the two.

Were that my own service were so simple, she thought.

“How is the mop up proceeding?” she asked, turning to her second.

The other woman, a fellow Edixi - the same as all her fellow soldiers that had joined her in this operation - stood crisply at attention.

“It proceeds at pace,” the Major responded. “Those units that escaped the initial engagement are quickly being run down by our exos or are expected to run into our other forces who have just reported seizing control of the other two landing sites with minimal losses.”

Antaria nodded. Just as planned. Still…

“I hear some hesitance in your voice, Major.”

The woman shuffled a bit in place, head tendrils twitching in place as she subtly shifted her weight from foot to foot - which was a signifier as great as any as to just how uncomfortable the other woman was.

Edixi did not shuffle. They stood straight. Proud. At all times.

“It’s the…” the woman paused as another crackle rang out, a frown twisting her features.

Not that Antaria blamed her for that. The lasers used by most species across the galaxy were all but silent when they fired. But the sound when they hit flesh? Well, the pop was rather unmistakable.

Still, they were soldiers and were more than accustomed to that particular nuance of warfare. If Antaria were to guess, it was the context more than the sound that bothered her subordinate. Which was a perfectly reasonable reaction.

It bothered her too.

Which was why she had no patience for half-words or subterfuge as she filled the silence that had grown between them. Skies above, her day to day duties were filled with enough of that.

“The executions,” she said simply, her tone as dry as possible to give no indications of her inner thoughts. “The soldiers find it upsetting.”

The Major nodded.

“Is it causing delays?” Antaria asked.

“Some,” the woman admitted.

Antaria sighed. She supposed she was fortunate in some ways. Had her regiment been composed of the usual multi-species ensemble, she might have feared outright refusals to the orders she had given. Fortunately for her, Edixi were more disciplined than that. Her people knew duty. Refusing an order just wasn’t done in Edixian society.

Still, a soldier dragging her tail to carry out an unpopular order is a form of protest as old as time, she thought.

“Nothing we can do about it beyond sending out another missive to our officers to remind the troops that our actions here might save billions of lives in time,” Antaria sighed. “A small sacrifice to our personal honor is nothing compared to that.”

Well, that and the knowledge that everyone present would likely face immediate execution should the Imperials ever get their hands on them. Executing prisoners of war tended to attract that sort of penalty. Even if the two member states involved technically weren’t ‘at war’.

The thought of it was enough to make her head hurt. It was moments like this that made her wonder why she ever signed up for Alliance Black Ops?

Oh yeah, because I was an eager young pup who thought she was hot shit? she thought. And that guys would be begging to fertilize her eggs when they heard she was an Alliance Commando.

Of course, it had never factored into her young sex addled brain that she would never be able to tell anyone what she did for a living. That had certainly been a disappointment.

And I’m still here ten years later because I’m a dumbass Edixi, and we get a collective cultural wet cunt for thankless duty, she thought. And because as much I hate this fucking job, someone has to do it.

She’d seen far too much of this galaxy’s dark underside to believe otherwise.

“Weak!”

Antaria frowned as a walking talking example of said ‘dark underside’ strode over to her.

The speaker was pretty much exactly what one expected when you said the words ‘Periphery Pirate’. The Roaches war suit was a mishmash of armor plating and vulgar imagery plated over what looked to have once been an old Consortium deep core mining suit. The only indication of the being within were the occasional tears in the synthetic-fabric through which Antaria could see the strange blue gelatinous creature that both inhabited and puppeteered the suit as if it were its real body.

“Klik, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Antaria asked dryly.

The surface of the suit fairly writhed as the Pirate Commander made its displeasure known. “We came to make our report on our efforts / Success. The allied-single minds hesitate / Weakness.”

Antaria frowned as she mentally parsed the words of the alien. A feat made slightly harder by the fact that the Roach echoing voice sounded more like something approximating random noises in a particular order rather than actual speech.

Still, there was an opportunity to spear two fish with a single thrust. “If you feel like my people are not showing enough enthusiasm in combing the field of battle for survivors, then we are more than happy to leave the task of battlefield clean up to you while my regiment moves on to our next objective.”

“We do / Acceptable.”

As expected it took barely a moment for the creature to answer, no doubt borne of a desire to loot the battlefield at its leisure as much as take over the task of searching for survivors.

Which was fine by Atraxia. Her orders might have mandated that she work closely with the pirates, but she’d be glad to see the back of them for a few hours. So it was with some relief that she watched the alien stomp off back to its own command post, loudly yelling commands to its fellows as it went.

“Ill disciplined cads,” her major spat to the side once the alien was gone.

Antaria couldn’t find it in her to argue. For her and her fellow Edixi war was a duty. For the Ulnus though, it was personal.

And when wars were personal, they got ugly.

What was worse, she couldn’t even really blame the slime-like creatures for being the way they were. Whatever culture they’d had before, it had long since been eroded by generations as galactic vagrants. Any sense of cultural identity had died when the Imperials destroyed their homeworld.

Now the only thing any disparate group of Ulnus could be relied upon to have in common was an almost genetic hatred for Imperials.

Storms, we barely managed to keep them from fighting between themselves over salvage rights while we were waiting for the Imperial task force to arrive on Raknos, she thought.

A task made all the more difficult by the fact that the three Alliance regiments had been hidden beneath the ocean waves the entire time. Which was part of the reason why only Edixi had been pulled for the operation, given their aquatic nature.

Still, as much as the Alliance Colonel sympathized with the aliens, that was as far as her feelings on the matter went. Pitiable or not, the Roaches were walking, talking examples of why she and the rest of the Alliance Special Warfare Group were doing what they were doing.

Because if the Imperial had their way, the Edixi – and every other race of the Alliance – would soon meet the same fate as the Roaches.

Or Humanity, she thought, mind returning to the task at hand.

“How long until 2nd company has visual on Mining Nexus Five?”

The Major straightened up. “Not more than a few hours, ma’am.”

Good. If the other two Alliance regiments on planet had imitated her movements, they’d have the Terran 1st effectively boxed in on all sides. Three alliance companies would be more than enough to hold the only remaining Imperial regiment in place until their parent regiments showed up.

The only reason she didn’t think her scouts would be able to wipe out the Imperials completely with that near parity in force, was because of the Terran’s performance in the ‘war’ thus far. Perhaps it was an overabundance of caution at the regiment’s success against what was merely a bunch of pirates, but she’d informed her people to only engage if the Imperials tried to perform a breakout.

Which they might attempt if they know we’re coming, she thought. Which they will.

Some units would have slipped through her encirclement. And while some of those would make for the other funnels and be swallowed by the Alliance regiments that had attacked there, at least one would likely head for the nexus.

Which meant that they had to expect the Terran 1st to be prepared for them.

Which, as much as it aggrieved Antaria to sound like a rear-echelon asshole, would likely be for the better…

After all, her people were here to test weapons and doctrines for eventual use against the Imperium. And some data for how those things performed against a dug in enemy without access to air support would be valuable to the people who would be analyzing this operation exhaustively once her people returned.

As callous as it sounded for her people to suffer more losses in the pursuit of statistics, a few extra deaths here could well save millions of lives in the war to come.

That was her burden and her duty.

Still, duty or not, it did little to make her feel any better about the fact that she’d be slaughtering thousands of Human men and women who were as much victims of the Imperium as anyone else.

Ones who by all accounts have proven exemplary warriors, she thought. And definitely not the ones I would have preferred to be forewarned of our arrival.

Their performance against the Roaches had definitely solidified them as something of a wild card in the minds of the Alliance commanders present.

Which was why, as another crackle rang out, Antaria momentarily considered sending a message to General Gabiia to rescind the ‘no prisoners’ mandate.

…Then she shook her head as Edixi discipline overrode that compulsion.

Damn the Imperium for making me do this, she thought as she clambered out of the rain and back into her command vehicle.

---------

Fucking Alliance, Gremp cursed mentally. Always sticking their snouts where it’s not wanted.

Rebellions. Pirates. ‘Accidents’. Some days it seemed like almost every burning pile of shit in the galaxy had the Alliance at the center of it. All in the name of desperately trying to stave off Imperial galactic dominance.

Not that they’d ever have the tits to come out and actually say that, she thought.

Then she might have been able to respect them. As misguided fools perhaps, but ones with principles. But no, they hid behind treaties and politics, all the while turning the rest of the galaxy into a volatile minefield of violence and tribalism.

Because they knew that if the day ever came where the Imperium and the Alliance went head to head – in a true battle, one that really tested the mettle of a nation – that the Imperium would come out victorious.

"Bring us up to date, Major," Cleff’s voice called out, returning Gremp’s attention to the holographic display in front of her.

Though she made sure to shuffle a little as she did, so that those officers behind her could also see. A requirement, given that the command room was positively packed with bodies. Not only was Cleff’s senior command staff present, but a good number of the regiment’s officer core was too.

It struck Gremp as a bit of an odd move on her Colonel’s part, but perhaps the woman felt it beneficial for all her officer’s to see first hand the information that was about to be conveyed.

…If only as a reminder of what they were up against – and what fate awaited all of them if they failed.

Puta gave an acknowledging nod before she began. "Based on information recovered from survivors of attacks that took place within the last twenty four hours and our own returning scout units' reports, we have come to the conclusion that for all intents and purposes, the Hundred and Ninety Eighth and Twentieth Divisions no longer exist as military entities or otherwise.”

There was a palpable intake of breath as each person absorbed the news. In the center of the table, the holographic display showed the two blue symbols representing allied forces positioned on or just outside the ‘funnels’ being caught between the familiar red symbols of the Roach forces and a number of new black icons. The blue icons shrunk in size massively, parts breaking off in varied different directions turning grey as an acknowledgement of those being their last known positions before contact was lost. A precious few of those blue icons made their way directly to the Terran 1st’s own position at Mining Nexus Five – which was now the only remaining blue icon on the map, and sat squarely between the three new black contacts.

“Empress,” someone muttered quietly behind her. “Two whole regiments?”

Gremp turned a stern gaze on the speaker – one of her own exo pilots, to her irritation – silencing the woman.

…Though it wasn’t as if she didn’t understand the sentiment. The Imperium wasn't accustomed to losses. One didn’t maintain or expand a galaxy spanning empire without them. Compared to the size of the Imperial military as a whole, two regiments amounted to less than a drop in the bucket.

Still, she found she couldn’t recall any occasion in recent memory in which two entire regiments had been lost in their totality.

Not since the early days of the Periphery Conflicts, certainly, she thought.

"…though unreliable, current casualty estimates range from somewhere between eight and twelve thousand,” Puta continued. “Including all accompanying vehicles and Exos. We anticipate more survivors with access to motorized transport to reach our position over the next two days, but any after that are likely to be cut off by Alliance fast movers that have been observed attempting to encircle our position."

Cleff’s talons tapped against the glass of the display. "Have we any guesses as to the composition of our foes? Not just these fast movers, but their parent regiments?"

Puta glanced at Avilla, who tapped a few keys on her omni-pad. Instantly the display switched to a number of different helmet cam shots – each one displaying a different machine or vehicle. To the right of each was a list of facts and figures, though Gremp couldn’t help but note that said figures were more than a little sparse on details, with wide deviations in details like assumed armor thickness and vehicle speed.

Avilla spoke up. "Three mechanized regiments of the ‘Guppy’ private military company. As an Alliance based – and assumedly backed – company with strong ties to the Alliance Strategic Warfare Group, it can be safely assumed that much of their equipment imitates that of the newly forming ‘Alliance Standardized Military’.”

“In simple terms please,” Cleff drawled.

The plant woman flushed a little before gamely continuing. “Assume Edixi small arms and infantry armor, Gren IFVs and Klek Exos.”

Great, the worst of all worlds, Gremp felt like muttering.

The ‘Alliance Standardized Military' had been a joke for a long time. To most Imperial onlookers it had seemed like the member states of the Alliance could barely decide on what uniform said military should wear, let alone get around to actually forming it. Well, it seemed the joke was on the Imperium now, because the bureaucrats had actually made some pretty decent choices.

Well, with the notable exception of the Klek Exos, she supposed. They haven’t updated that design in-

“And I am afraid it gets worse." Puta continued, taking over for Avilla. As she spoke, the holographic display changed to that of an Exo diving atop an Imperial IFV.

“That’s not a Swoop Heavy,” Cleff said, eying the machine that only had a passing resemblance to that of the ancient Klek Exo design.

"Meet what we have now designated the Swoop Heavy A-One. Clearly based on the Swoop Heavy Chassis, the Alternative One seems to be an altogether different beast. From what we have been able to piece together from footage from our survivors, the new machine possesses two 2mm lasers located in the torso, with another 5mm rotary cannon located in the right arm. Finally, it possesses two micro-rocket batteries in each shoulder.”

"Empress above,” Gremp hissed, a sentiment echoed by many of her fellow pilots behind her.

Her own exo was Imperial standard, which meant a single 5mm rotary in the right arm and a micro-rocket pod in the left shoulder.

"Fortunately, there does seem to be a tradeoff for the machine’s increased firepower.” She pointed at the picture. “Observe the noticeably thinner armor around the cockpit and legs compared to the base design. One of the pilots who managed to escape from the attack on the 198th claimed to have brought one down from up to three hundred meters away using her 5mm cannon with only a two second burn time on target. Our engineers have also theorized that the Alternate One will have a significantly shorter operational window compared to its predecessor.”

Gremp raised her hand to ask a question, only for Puta to pre-empt her. “You will be able to interview that pilot once this meeting is complete.”

Gremp settled back down satisfied. She wasn’t exactly happy that the Klek had apparently updated their Exos to fall in line with a more modern doctrine, but she was happy that the new Alternate wouldn’t be quite as much of a pain in the ass to peel open like the old Swoop Heavy was.

"Estimate of enemy strength?" Cleff asked.

"Anywhere from ten thousand to fourteen thousand Alliance troops, one hundred and twenty IFV’s, and one hundred and eighty Exos.

"Our strength?"

"Six hundred and seventy-two direct combat infantry, eight-three IFVs, one-hunded and five Exos and… thirty six tanks."

Cleff went silent for a moment.

“Well,” she said slowly. “It seems we’re in luck ladies. There’ll be plenty of action for all of us.”

The laughter that followed was more nervous than amused.