Zaa'Nabar, 12H.

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Duga-76.

The door is blown open, and as the SAW gunner lays down suppressive fire, sporadic small arms is returned. The room is surrounded by offices for different officials in the COC, cordoned off by glass, which shatters as the gunfire starts. From behind overturned desks and cubicle hallways the service uniform dressed analysts return fire with pistols and SMGs ineffectively, aiming around the corners and blind firing or shooting at muzzle flashes in the dark. The grenade goes off and tears apart the offices, a few analysts being thrown into the air. They are quickly suppressed and huddle into cover as their cubicles are torn apart, Slavnok chatter and screaming echo around the room. In the back of the room the commander secures a NOD over his head and fires a carbine in their direction, with the Spetsnaz giving accurate fire nearby.

Zeleniyan Orbital Defense Network.

The Zeleniyan Defense station is rocked, the communications array being completely obliterated, the bulkhead doors to it being sealed off, fire spreading throughout the station. The Red Fleet's missile pods retract into their hulls to begin the autoloading procedure, as the fighters and attackers move to cover the bombers, flying halfway inbetween the two fleets, firing their radar locking anti ship missiles, and breaking off.

The ZMiG interceptors shoot down one of the drop pods, but they are hard pressed to acquire a lock on the others. As the UCFP fighters swoop in, one of the ZMiGs is struck, their tail rudder and thruster being hit. It breaks off to the right and begins to spin uncontrollably. The second one engages its afterburners, the high speed fighter dashing away back to base.

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Duga-76, ‘Big Ear’, Kyburiysk Oblast, Zaa’nabar Surface.

A moment passes; all is quiet at the Duga-76 array. Then, the drop pods come. Fifteen to twenty drop pods impact in and around the Duga-76 compound. The members of the Drop Troop Regiment make their way from their pods and go about securing the area, clearing through the buildings on the top; a small team goes to reinforce the marines that made their way into the bunker.

The supporting team was fully stocked and not nearly as withered down as their SOC counterparts, they got the situational report from the warrant officer and joined the fight, the platoon sized element of troopers taking beads on targets and proceeding to engage.

"Sir, the companies are done securing the area, we have got a good perimeter and ready to start conversion and set up operations. After we beat back the Zeleniy fleet, the Colonel should be making his way down here."

The Major nodded his head to his S-2 and continued to make his rounds to the company commanders to get their own situational reports.

2nd Federal Battlegroup, Zaa’nabar Space.

With the loss of the Command cruiser, the animosity of the fleet was ramped up, the men and woman of the shipped worked to keep the warfighting systems of the rest of the fleet at an upwards of 200% efficiency. The electronic warfare teams were off standby and went to work, going after critical systems of the Zeleniy fleet. The large cannons on the attack cruisers were fired at a higher rate towards the life support systems of the Zeleniy carrier. Missiles were being loaded and point defense CWIS and rockets were working at full capacity for the fleet, only a handful of missiles slamming into the shields. Marine boarding parties were dispatched and sent forward with all the assets of the fleet at their disposal.

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Zeleniyan Orbital Defense Network.

The command station is in chaos as the damage control teams go to the upper levels to try to stop the fire, the burning magnesium and other exotic metals start to erode the bulkheads away. On the outside, the upper comms tower of the space station begins to chip away, hull panels and antennas ripping off and falling towards the planet. Two strange looking pods are launched from the ship's hangar and follow after the dropships at breakneck speeds. Four pods are launched from the top of its hull, and explode outward. At first glance it might have appeared to be chaff, but it was infact many little spider-looking robots, about the size of house cats, that begin to do emergency repairs. They hop about and use little thrusters in the center of their bodies to move from different damage areas.

The comms stations of the ships resist any further jamming from the UCFP, bouncing it back at a SHF frequency. Comms are maintained, but they are marred by static and breaks. The Zeleniyan carrier's shield is whittled down and broken by the cannons, starting to take direct fire from the attack cruisers. The men and women inside are rocked by the explosions, the lights turning from bright whtie to dark red as hull depressurization occurs in some rooms.

The Kravenkov missile cruiser's SS-N-88 missile pods reactivate, and raise out of their fixed hull positions. The bus-sized missiles are launched, heading for the attack cruisers, heading straight for the command bridges and offensive weapons.

The two battleships dual cannons open up on the attack cruisers as well, firing medium sized anti-hull shells at an extremely high rate of 12 rounds a minute. They close in towards the carrier, the fleet forming a phalanx with the carrier in the center. The Patrul frigate stood at the tip of the spear, its supreme CIWS capabilities taking down approaching missiles for not only itself but the fleet.

Lastly, the ZMiG interceptor air wing sweeps in to take out the dropships, pulling all sorts of crazy air maneuvers and showing off their speed as they fire missiles simultaneously.

Duga-76.

Inside the command building, the analysts and GRU are overrun. The untrained non-combatant SIGINT collectors are either dead, wounded, or have thrown their weapon down and hid. The two GRU operatives defend the commander, who takes cover behind and overturned desk and fires his carbine. With reinforcements, the SOC operatives are able to push against the Spetsnaz. One of them is struck in the neck, reaching up to grip it, his friend behind him rips his SMG from his hands and bashes him aside with his brute augmented force, firing both his machine gun and his SMG from his hip in a sweeping motion. He takes out a few marines before he is gunned down brutally, collapsing to the floor. And like every last one they killed he seems very reluctant to die, as he feebly reaches for his machinegun before he is gunned down again.

The commander, behind his desk, sits there with his legs splayed out in front of him. He looks down at his chest, a gunshot wound in his left lung and one in his left shoulder, then dazily back up to the ceiling. He takes his NOD off and stares up at the blackness, wheezing through his gasmask.

Down the hall, the radiomen and cryptos exit radio central, seeing the light that the BMPs fire was casting from the outside, they ran up the exit corridor. They stop in their tracks as they find UCFP marines holding rear guard at the entrance of the bunker. The two groups exchange an awkward stare, the poorly armed and trained spooks standing there, dumbfounded. One of the marines hauls his SAW around from the fixed position to face them, and as he does they begin to open fire. The analysts are gunned down in the hall, having no where to take cover. Many of lie dead, but a few groan and sob as they lay broken.

The churning of the heavy Tetrovka MBT's engine as well as the sputtering of the ZMP-2s and urals can be heard from down the hill, and they suddenly cut out. For a few minutes, nothing is heard. The silence is tense. The unusual animals of Zaa'Nabar's squaking and roaring dies out. The wind blows the trees lightly, and a large cloud blocks out the red moon. Suddenly, there is movement from the edge of the treeline.

Gunfire erupts from the treeline, as the Motostrelki QRF dismounts open up on the compound. In a semi circle around the compound, the treeline lights up with green and yellow tracers going to the compound and red and orange tracers going out. Revving engines are heard and the two ZMP-2s gun it up the steep hill, gaining a little bit of air as they jump off the roads. They load HEIT and begin circling the compound, firing 30mm HEIT into the walls and buildings. With a heavy churning, the Tetrovka MBT heaves up the hill, halting. Its gun sways up and down, the little radio antennas quivering as it stops. The tank's remote commander controlled 14.7mm KVPT machinegun opens fire, as the 188mm gun pelts the visible building tops with HE rounds.

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Duga-76, ‘Big Ear’, Kyburiysk Oblast, Zaa’nabar Surface.

The dismount open fire, they are met with the defending force posted around the compound, general purpose machine guns and long rifles firing every which direction. One of the fox holes exploded after a Zeleniy grenade was thrown into the hole, the occupants were sent flying. Fire was exchanged, the fire of the armored vehicles impacting the empty structures. The men in the AA were keeping the counter attack at bay, buying enough time for the mortarmen to setup their kits, three 170mm mortars were ready to go, the fisters in the field relaying coordinates. Fire missions where on the go, the first volley being a concoction of explosive and phosphorus to clear the jungle cover that the heavy infantry QRF would have, the next being a wave of H.E.

The men in the bunker made their way through the command cubicles, scanning for any targets, the corpsmen of the marine detachment working on the survivors. A BDA was conducted and the corpsman stayed behind, the rest of the marines moving up to repel the counter attack.

2nd Federal Battlegroup, Zaa’nabar Space.
All nonessential system power was diverted to the shields of the assault cruisers. Their missiles were loaded and at the ready, another volley was sent, to cover another nuclear strike. The nuclear strike was still focused along the defense station. The ship destroying missiles from the red fleet impacted their targets on one of the attack cruisers, the Pollonn was struck in the command bridge, and the ship’s blast doors coming to a quick close as its heavy cannons were repositioned to fire on the Zeleniy carrier, as well as the rest of the fleet’s missiles, medium, and heavy weapons. The missile and CWIS point defense were working well against the smaller missile barrages from the Red Fleet.

The ZMiGs attacking the marine drop ships had encountered resistance from a UCFP fighter wing after taking down two of the dropships. The dropships were gaining towards their intended targets, the carrier and the command station.

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Duga-76.

The infantry are hit hard, thrown about and pinned by the explosive rounds, and burned alive by the white phosphorous. Leytenant Polmir watches as a soldier runs out of the white cloud, burning alive, screaming at the top of his lungs through his gasmask,"YA V' OGNE! WABOGIL! AAUUUUGGHHH!" His gasmask lens are focused on the burning man, in a trance watching the man burn alive, when his radioman shakes his shoulder,"Tovarisch Leytenant!" He turns and ducks behind the fallen tree in front of them as more artillery fire comes in, taking the phone from the radioman's hands. He presses his finger down on his left ear, turning the volume all the way up on the phone and pressing it to his right ear. He screams his situation to his superiors over the gunfire, and he receives an order, acknowledging it."TAKTOSHNA, POLKOVINIK!" He hands the radio phone back to his radioman's hands, giving him an order as he pops smoke, throwing it with all his might at the edge of the treeline.

As his radioman spoke to his unit, the order went through. The QRF infantry pulled back out of the killzone, the tank backing down the road to the edge of the defilade, ready to go hull down at a moment's notice. The two circling ZMP-2s continued to suppress any infantry, circling the facility like sharks. They cut off and head down the road, driving down the defilade. The tank fires another HE round at the main gate, before rolling back as well. The QRF infantry reconsolidate about 300 meters away, creating a barrier between the UCFP forces and the nearest town. Unarmed VTOL Mi-100s came in, marked with big red crosses. They landed on the road, picking up the wounded at a shoddy CCP, and leaving as quick as they came.

In the distance, the two oddly shaped drop pods from the command station broke through the atmosphere. Two rockets underneath the drop pods thrusted upward with great force, slowing it down to a much safer fall. The drop pods split in two down the middle, and two VTOL Hinds appeared in the casing. Their VTOL activated mid flight and they flew off into a holding pattern around the Duga facility.

2nd Planetary Orbital Defense Battalion, Zhar-Zhun Province.

In the bustling streets of the planet's loyalist capital city, the propaganda switch has been thrown on. Masses of young Aranek are being turned conscripts, as evil images of UCFP forces, their destruction of the race of Helkions, and their imminent invasion, was projected unto the city. The normal day to day activities was now interrupted by this surprise attack. The lizards have been armed and a militia has been formed, the nearby airbase starts launching ZMiGs into the space battle, and Shilkas turn their guns and rockets skywards.

Inside the heavily defended province, spread out across the great farm lands and lush savannah, the 10 experimental ZIL-138 Mobile Orbital Defense Arrays lie in wait. For years they have sat without any real operation, other than standard upkeep and maintenance. The artillery trains are hidden in buildings, forests, with whatever camouflage that lie around them. Their drivers haul the large trucks out of the warehouses, the dense forests, and into the open fields. With them is a whole company's worth of protection. 3 air defense batteries as well as a platoon of mechanized infantry to protect an artillery train operated by 10 men.

Their large cannons heave upwards into the sky, and fire off anti ship missiles or anti ship gauss rounds, at anything within an orbit of 500,000KM.

Zeleniyan Orbital Defense Network.

The carrier takes withering fire from the UCFP fleet, its hull being torn apart. The repair systems cannot work fast enough, and it soon becomes combat ineffective, launching all remaining non-combat craft to retreat to the surface airfields. The Red Fleet's CIWS tore through the next barrage, but the nuclear package still went through to the orbital station, taking out the hangar bays and many living areas. The remaining ships engaged their reverse thrusters, retreating as they kept up the CIWS fire. The Patrul frigate launched several mines that rocketed out in many different directions and went off the grid.

The carrier's remaining squadrons fled from the battle to the airfields below. The dropships would have a hard time getting into the carrier or the command station, the only ways in would be the treacherous breaks in the hulls. The CIWS of the carrier and the command station was operating at minimum efficiency, very few guns still working. The few ASM batteries on the orbital defense station kept firing in vain, covering the retreat of the Red Fleet.

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Duga-76, ‘Big Ear’, Kyburiysk Oblast, Zaa’nabar Surface.

The battle was quiet and for that moment the UCFP forces took this time to set up their own CCP and tend to their wounded. The men on the line stood fast as they waited another communist push. The HINDs circling the facility presented another problem for the ground commander. The men posted around the compound waited and waited, a marksman and his spotter were perched on an elevated position.

"Did you see that, dude? I shot him right in the stomach and that other fucker came to grab him... BAM! Got them both, the pink mist, baby."

"Fuck yeah, man. That shit was awesome."

The two continued to scan their sector. In the meanwhile the ground commander was devising a plan to deal with the circling HINDs.

"Captain, have we got any SAMs down here, yet?"

"That's a negative, sir. Skystrikers never made it through reentry."

"You've got to be kidding me... A.T. Do we have any of that down here?"

"Yessir, about three launchers and their standard load."

Alaeri Temple, Zdrukyk Oblast, Zaa’nabar Surface.

An age old temple of the race that had almost destroyed humanity, the R&D team with their escort had been surveying the temple since the UCFP's initial push to free the Anarek from Zeleniy Tyranny. The R&D team had been working at the temple for quite some time, recently they had entrance into the main chamber. One of the scientists was going along the walls with an LED torch, reading the forgotten language off of the walls.

"Boss, I think there's something else to it. There's something about Larté on these walls. A stone of Larté to be more exact. Something about the Meld or something..."

The LBE clad man continued along the wall, his left hand pressing down on a small button, causing a ruckus within the temple. The walls begin to shift and turn, the ground quaking as the center chamber opens up, it reveals a stair case to the lower level. The scientists proceeds to go down the stairs, and that's where it lay. The stone of Larté sits in a glass container, suspended in the air by itself.

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Zhar-Zhun, capital city of the loyalist Zaa'Nabar.

8 months have passed since the initial UCFP invasion. The 2nd Fleet of the Zeleniyan Navy has been crippled and has long since retreated to Kuteznagrad, abandoning their countrymen on the planet below. The massive occupational satellite over Zaa'Nabar has been destroyed, and the 700,000 men and women of the 2nd People's Naval Infantry Group and the 6th Revolutionary Mounted Guard Corps have been pushed from every jungle, every swamp, every beach, every plain, village, farm, and city, all the way back to their proclaimed capital of the old regime. They number roughly 100,000, with over 350,000 dead, 200,000 MIA, and 50,000 as POWs. The 200,000 strelkistrofbat of the 1st Bastards Penal Corps have mostly deserted to the other side in the chaos, with roughly 30,000 remaining to be used in suicide attacks against the enemy. They are lead by tovarisch General-Leytenant Ibram Govornik.

Ever since the initial invasion and the defeat of the Red Fleet, the UCFP has played a minor yet vital role in the war, supplying and training the irregular Aranek people and army regulars of the 2nd Caliphate of Zaa'Nabar constantly, supporting them with surgical strikes and SOF operations when they really need it. The Aranek have excelled with their guerilla tactics, numbers, and sheer adaptability to new things such as modern warfare.

The capital city of Zhar-Zhun is the last bastion of the old regime. The beaten Zeleniyans are running low on resources, ammo, fuel, and morale. While the Zeleniyans have virtually no CAS, their air defense over the city is impenetrable. What remaining SAM sites and ZIL-138 ship cracker cannons there are in Zaa'Nabar reside in the open courtyards and bazaars of the massive city. The citizens itself are too afraid to evacuate, and the local loyalist defense forces have thrown down their weapons in anticipation of their vengeful kind cracking down on them in their inevitable victory. Insurgency inside the city is rampant despite the lack of trials and abundance of alleyway executions.

The vices of the UCFP and the 2nd Caliphate tighten on the crumbling city. The assault will mount soon. The last of the death breathers will be routed out, and the red banner will be cast into the dirt.

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Zhar-Zhun, Zhun Oblast, Zaa'nabar Surface.

The regular stream of distance gunfire was interrupted by the sounds of a rocket pod streaming through the air over the city's centre. The ZIL-138 made short work of the small rocket pod, and that's what the UCFP wanted. Out came hundreds, no, thousands of fliers. They slowly floated to the centre's concrete surface. Upon closer inspection, it was propaganda, the UCFP's Marine PYSOPs group was at it again. The fliers depict Zeleniy soldiers surrendering to UCFP and Anarek forces, the next pane being the surrenderees, they're all huddled around a fire, eating a warm meal. The text reads in Slavnok: "Surrender, and you will be treated well!"

Staging Area X-Ray, Zhun Oblast, Zaa'nabar Surface.

The mechanized brigade to make it to the surface of the planet was being staged for an assault. The commanders of the armored companies making sure that their Leopard 4A5 MBTs were properly PMCS'd and the maintenance was correct. Joes were sitting around atop their tanks, getting rest for the battle that was to come ahead. The groundpounders, the infantry, from the 542nd Orbital drop regiment were checking their gear, along with getting well needed rest. Artillery commanders were prepping their batteries for fire, running system diagnostics on their targeting computers.

The battle would soon be underway, forward observers were in place, and they were waiting.

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Zhar-Zhun, Zhun Oblast, Zaa'Nabar Surface.

The soldiers and marines at the front continue to fire down the line, ignoring the fliers for the moment. Further inward to the city, the combatants rushing to the front paused to grip the fliers, they pause there gripping their scavenged weapons and the fliers, considering this. From behind, their angered officer screams through his mask and points to the front with his weapon, the soldiers reluctantly move on at a slower pace to the front.

Zhar-Zhun, Grand Capital Bazaar.

The bazaar had been turned into a massive military compound for High Command. General-Leytenant Ibram Govornik stands over the hologram of the city, seeing the masses of Aranek insurgents, army regulars, and UCFP forces gathering on all sides. The command tent is in chaos, everyone moving from radio to radio to inform each other or to give orders. A radioman yells over to the officer,"Tovarisch General-Leytenant, an urgent transmission from out of the system!" The aged general looks over slowly, no one had contacted them in months. The tent fell silent for a moment, and the general somberly walked over and gripped the handset, bringing the phone up to his ear,"This is General Govorni--." He was cut off, and remained silent for a good 15 seconds, finally he responded without an inkling of emotion in his voice,"Horoscho." He handed the phone back to the radioman and made his way out of the tent, while his subordinates incessantly interrogated him on the subject of the call.

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Zhar-Zhun, Zhun Oblast, Zaa'nabar Surface.

The same sort of rocket pod as the last time are fired upon the city, the AAA making short work of them as they have before. More fliers fall from the sky, along with an audio transmitter. Each audio transmitter has the capability of resounding through several city blocks, they speak a prerecorded message in a feminine Slavnok voice: "Lay down your arms, join the UCFP foreign legion today! Be respected by your peers, your family, and your country!" the recording is on loop, playing until they run out of battery life, or are destroyed.

Staging Area X-Ray, Zhun Oblast, Zaa'nabar Surface.

1st Battalion 7th Field Artillery Regiment.

The GPS guided rocket artillery from the batteries of 1/7th where shifted into firing position, the final payload being loaded into the launcher on hard site delta, where Delta battery's two launchers were stationed. They were poised for attack, only waiting for word from higher.

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Zhar-Zhun, Zhun Oblast, Zaa'nabar Surface.

The sporadic gunfire from the front echoing in the distance, a small platoon of Revolutionary Motostreliki trudge towards the sound, in no particular hurry to get there. They pass by a crashed Hind, stepping over the rotor blades as the audio transmitters land around them. They pause, one of the squad leaders bending down to pick the transmitter up. The platoon CO marches up to the squad leader and snatches the device from his hand,"Tovarisch Serzhant!" He says in a ragged, husky voice. "Sir." The sergeant replies with a dull, grim tone. "We cannot stop to listen to this bitch, keep moving!" The squad leader stares at the PltCO, then nods once, turning away and leading his squad. The rest of the platoon follows, passing by a hunkered down Tetrovka MBT, it's tracks long since unrepaired and sandbags piled high. 12.7mm and 188mm shell casings surround it, and it's commander and gunner sit atop the turret, sharing a cigarette as they watch the platoon pass by slowly.

The front is constantly manned by strelkistrofbat, the remaining few penal warriors. They rarely return fire, and if they do it is inaccurate and ineffective. Their incompetent leaders keep them in this trench line unsuitable for defense, and their "morale officers" keep them in line. As the audio transmitters drop from the sky, the gunfire lessens, as several of the strofbat begin reading it. The morale officer exits his tent, wearing combat trousers and a tank top, he straightens his garrison cap, and pulls his pistol out from its holster,"Reading or listening to that garbage is grounds for a field court martial!"

The prisoners begin to break the devices, but one of the men reads it closely, his hands gripping around the audio transmitter, before he drops it and cries out,"Fuck this, I'm not going to die for you, pig! Come, brothers, this is our only chance!" The morale officer turns his head towards the sound of the noise, pulling the slide back on the pistol. The man climbs over the trench and begins sprinting away, glancing over his shoulder. The officer fires a single round and the pistol stove pipes, he curses, clearing the barrel and yelling,"Shoot him! Panicking coward!" The prisoners simply watch him run, the officer fires off another round, but he's far from effective range of the pistol now. The morale officer screams, throwing his pilotka down into the mud,"You fucking monkeys! I'll have you all hung! You lizard loving scum! Shoot the traitor, shoot him!" But they simply watch as his figure gets smaller, running into the no mans land.

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Staging Area X-Ray, Zhun Oblast, Zaa'nabar Surface.

1st Battalion 7th Field Artillery Regiment.

So it goes. The batteries were ready, and they fired. Comms chatter spoke "ICS to all batteries, cleared hot. Birds away." The four batteries all fired in unison, the 140mm HE rockets from three of the batteries rained downed on the line, the final firing battery, Delta; they were sporting an anti-radiation and C-Ban seeking missiles, meant to seek and fire upon the radiating AA batteries. The two pods from each battery sported 80 rockets, each launcher carrying two, and each battery sporting two launchers. Leaving a total of 480 rockets firing down on the line, and 160 down on the AA systems.

4th Armored Corps, infantry from the 542nd Orbital Drop Regiment and MARSOC attché.

Wheels and Caterpillar treads were on the prowl. Pumas and leopards were on the move under the air cover of the artillery. They made their way steaming towards the line, the supported Anaerk forces moving in under the cover the of the armored corps. The final battle of Zhar-Zhun was underway.

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Zhar-Zhun, Zhun Oblast, the Zeleniyan line.

The men of the front line scream and run into cover, ducking into their Z shaped trenches as the rocket artillery rains down on them. The trenchlines and the occupied civillian buildings overlooking the open, muddy no mans land are rocked by the artillery. The various shilkas and CIWS points on the city are peppered by the rocket artillery. Their operators run for cover as their vehicles and equipment are destroyed. The city is teeming with the last few Zeleniyan survivors, as they rush to the front line.

The front line is turned into a pockmarked, crater ridden wasteland. The shell shocked troops on the front line are stunned, sitting in their trenches with their heads down, they slowly come to to the sound of vehicles engines and Aranek roaring. As the assault bears down on them, their ineffective small arms and heavy machinegun fire is not enough to deter the assault. They pull back from the trenchlines and the occupied civillian homes on the edge of the city and run to the second line of defense, as they are shot in the back by the advancing enemy.

The 31st Heavy Artillery platoon, the last on the planet, with its two ZIL-135 MLRSs, fires a return salvo into the no mans land that the assaulting forces charge through. 256 120mm HE rockets fire into the vast, muddied, body-ridden expanse that the UCFP and Second Sultanate forces cross into.

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Zhar-Zhun, Zhun Oblast, the Zeleniyan line.

And there they are! The armored corps is steaming through the line with relative ease, that is until the artillery makes splash. An IFV is struck, being forced into the air, becoming a smoldering wreckage after colliding back with the surface of the desolate no man's land. Various groups of soldiers are hit as well, pink mist and body parts flying whatever which way. That didn't stop the armored train from breaking through the line.

As the MBTs and IFVs come through the line, the infantry within the carriers dismount, starting with clearing the structures that line the defensive line, taking prisoners should the opportunity present. A makeshift FOB is quickly constructed from the intact Zeleniyan bunkers, most of it serving as a prisoner detainment area, and MASCAL point. The bulk of the forces make their way into the capital of the occupied world, the Anarek taking point, vengeance the only thing on their mind.

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Zhar-Zhun, Zhun Oblast, eastern edge of the city.

Many backroads, alleyways, and smaller streets have been blocked off with wreckage, barbed wire, and visibly marked with AP/AT mines, choking the offensive into brutal block to block fighting and forcing the vehicles into 2 main MSRs watched by Zeleniyan tanks hidden in ambush positions such as parked inside buildings, alleyways, and disguised as wreckage.

The infantry are using their surroundings to their advantage as well, making sure any flanks the Aranek dismounts can take are well covered and watched by double barreled Dusha-ka HMGs.

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Near Staging Area X-Ray, Zhun Oblast
United Systems Navy Logistics Corps C-19 'Goliath' 1891

Having jumped in low orbit around Zaa'Nabar almost half an hour prior, the C-19/M 'Goliath' faster-than-light cargo craft had spent most of that time waiting for the de-orbit burn. Landing a spaceplane on a planet was one thing, but landing it in a tiny make-shift airfield in the middle of SAM territory took a lot of skill and, of course, copious amounts of fuel.

The C-19 had been designed to land on aircraft landing corridors with a length of at least ten kilometers, and while there were plenty of these in Europa, modifications were required to land such a massive spacecraft in most airfields. Hence the C-19/M variant: the military took the aircraft, moved the cockpit inside the actual hull, armored the entire thing and finally put a set of giant rocket boosters in its front, allowing it to use one fourth the landing space at the expense of fuel and cargo capacity.

The two Raptor strike fighters escorting the craft had been modified with a short range jump drive, allowing them to follow cargo vessels on long range supply missions, mostly for the purposes of intercepting Surface-to-Air Missiles before they could be a threat to the cargo. They flew on either side of the Goliath, using their active RADAR to scan for targets both in space and on the ground.

The ship's cargo had remained classified: not even the pilots knew what was onboard, apart from a squad of Marines and some spooky guy from the CIA. They knew it wasn't tanks or mechs, since those required specialized shipping containers, and the rumors circulating amongst the four-man crew mostly agreed that it was either a small arms shipment, a nuclear artillery cannon or a pair of TELARs.

Having finished the de-orbit burn, the Goliath finally contacted the tower on the ground.

<"X-Ray aerospace control, this is Coalition Goliath one eight nine one, we have finished re-entry and are coming in for a rocket-assisted landing with our fighter escort. Please confirm landing corridor is clear, over.">

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Zhar Zhun, Zhun Oblast, Zaa'nabar Surface.

40,000ft, Xan Class Bombers.

Zaa'Nabar, 12H. - Page 3 Su_chen_01

The formation of four high altitude bombers flew over Zhar Zhun, with the SAMs out of the way, this was an easy task. Two broke off for one of the forced MSRs, the other for the next. The bombers opened their bomb bays, letting loose a payload of 500 pound bombs, at least fifteen per bomber. This was in hopes of removing most of the threat before the infantry and armor had to make their way to the square.

Near Staging Area X-Ray, Zhun Oblast

<"Roger that, Goliath one eight nine one, this is X-ray airfield. Your landing corridor is clear and you're ready to touch down at heart's desire."> is what the woman in the air traffic control retorted with. Two Panavia Tornados were launched from the airfield to guide the transport in. The supply company at the airfield were getting their vehicles ready, and the marines on ground prechecking their vehicles for convoy operations.

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Near Staging Area X-Ray, Zhun Oblast
United Systems Navy Logistics Corps C-19 'Goliath' 1891

<"Copy X-ray, Goliath one eight nine one coming in for a landing now, landing gear deployed. Rocket boosters firing in ten seconds. Nine, eight, seven, six..."

The primary navigation screen flickered once as the assisted landing display came on, overlaying a set of waypoints for the aircraft to follow in its descent: in the distance, X-Ray Airport was highlighted in bright green. The crew inside the bridge braced for deceleration as several pieces of armor plating on the front of the vehicle slid away, revealing a series of forward-facing chemical rockets: the Goliath could not land itself in the small landing corridor without the devices, mostly due to its massive weight and impressive re-entry velocities, which reached Mach 9 when coming in for a landing. To reduce the chances of being intercepted, the craft had to move very fast and travel as short a distance from orbit to landing as possible, and for this reason, cargo capacity had been somewhat reduced to make space for additional landing assistance gear.

The distance between the aircraft's original position and the airport was reduced to virtually nothing in the few seconds the boosters took to activate, rapidly slowing the vehicle down while a set of precisely-placed RCS thrusters allowed it to maintain its aerodynamic stability. The craft's aerodynamics, and the massive weight of the supplies held in its cargo compartment, meant that during deceleration the nose could tilt upwards and put it into a stall. Within moments the massive wheels, a total of thirty two, made contact with the ground. Several drogue parachutes deployed from the back of the aircraft, which, combined with the breaks on the wheels, the rocket boosters and the instant tilting of the wing-like structures to a vertical position, brought the cargo transport to a stop a few meters from the end of the landing strip.

The crew quickly safed all systems and powered down the fusion engine, and, with all of these tasks complete, activated the rear ramp. The massive platform took almost two minutes to fully open, and anyone awaiting outside would be greeted by several Marines in digital woodland camouflage PA-22 Advanced Powered Infantry Armor equipped with ACMAS combat railguns. A single man slipped through the gap in the line of Marines: he was wearing just a UEDPAT-2 battle dress uniform, with white text on his back identifying him as 'CIA'. Behind him, hundreds of crates of all sizes were waiting inside the cargo section: all of them were stamped with serial numbers and short identifications, such as 'UNITED SYSTEMS RIFLE, 12.7MM, SG620' or 'CARTRIDGE, CALIBER 7.62, RSLAP, M948', but the largest of them all, with a size similar to that of a tank, was branded with the international warning sign for radiation. The words 'HOWITZER, CALIBER 155MM, NUCLEAR, M766' were labeled on it.