With Hearts of Steel

Prologue
August 11th, 2554

Above Soyuz, bridge of SSRS Blyskawica

0143 Hours

"UNSC destroyers within range!"

"Fire all munitions at the lead ship! Sink the Bismarck! I repeat, sink the Bismarck!"

"Aye sir!"

Turning to his bridge crew, Commodore Francis Gregson yelled "You heard the man, fire the Archers! Prepare the guns for close combat! Navigation, full ahead into the UNSC formation once the Archers are launched!"

"Sir, are you-" one officer interrupted.

"Yes I'm sure damnit!"

"Aye."

Placing a key into the appropriate slot, weapons officer William Edwards turned it, launching the Blyskawica's store of seven Archer Missiles toward the UNSC Navy formation. As soon as the white trails of the missiles appeared against the darkness of space, NAV officer Juliet Samuels, as per Commodore Gregson's orders, on a collision course for the UNSC formation. Gripping his command chair, Gregson flinched slightly as the Second Soyuz Republic Navy flagship, former UNSC Paris-Class Heavy Frigate SSRS Grom rushed directly over the Blyskawica, charging towards the UNSC formation.

"UNSC ships have fired their return volley! Deploying countermeasures! yelled Edwards as a veritable wall of UNSC fire streaked towards the rebel armada. Although Edwards' countermeasure deployment confused some of the missiles, the advanced electronics saw right through them, and a volley of missiles slammed into the ship's hull. "Reactor at critical levels!" Samuels cried. "Put us on a collision course for the lead ship, prepare reactor for overload!" Gregson responded. If it hadn't been evident to the crew before, the fact they were going to die was now, as the bridge became deathly quiet as Samuels maneuvered the Blyskawica towards its new target.

More Archer Missiles impacted as it approached the UNSC ship. Then the lighter impacts of the enemy point defense guns added in. "Collision in three, two-". Samuels never had a chance to finish her sentence.

First Contact
August 11th, 2554

Northcoast, colony of Soyuz

0452 Hours

"Lieutenant Bernard, wake up!"

In his rack, Second Soyuz Republic First Lieutenant Marcin Bernard slowly came to as a rebel infantryman shook him awake. "Hm, what is it?" he mumbled, having gotten to sleep only three hours before.

"Sir, the UNSC's here! They've annihilated the SSR Navy, and are landing troops now!"

"You have proof, or is this just another false alarm?" Bernard asked. False alarms were not out of the question. Most of the time, a picket ship would engage a UNSC Navy scout ship, and people would run around as if the UNSC was attacking. He himself had had to man the Northcoast defensive line seven times due to false alarms.

"Sir, this is no false alarm! Follow me, I'll show you!" the rebel infantryman responded. Throwing on his shower shoes, Bernard walked with the infantryman, who was clad in full combat gear, feeling a bit naked only wearing a pair of shorts and a white tee shirt. Walking up the steps of the barracks to the upstairs offices, Marcin knocked twice on the door of the Northcoast garrison commander, Colonel Johan Bachmeier.

"Come in." the Colonel said in his distinctive German accent. Slowly opening the door and walking in, he saw Bachmeier was talking over the radio with someone. "Yes sir, I'll get the line up and running immediately. Understood sir, best of luck to you. Liberty forever!" Bachmeier said as he put down the radio handset. "Sir, is the UNSC actually here, or is this just another false alarm like before?" Bernard asked, as a lump in his gut formed. The only person above Bachmeier would be a General, and he never spoke to Generals unless something very good or very bad was happening.

"Lieutenant Bernard, I'm sorry to say that those reports are not false alarms. The UNSC has indeed attacked. The SSR Navy has been totally annihilated, and advance forces of Orbital Drop Shock Troopers have already landed."

"What are our orders then?"

"Get your men together, send a courier into the town ordering them to take up their positions at the line. Your defensive line may very well be the difference between victory and defeat. The only reason I allowed you to build it was because in those mountains is our secondary headquarters, which is where our leadership has escaped to from New Kiev."

"How long are we to hold?"

"As long as you can."

"Yes sir."

At Bachmeier's final statement, Bernard's heart sank. He knew his bunker line was not going to be able to hold against the UNSC. This was going to be where he faced his death. It was surrender or die now. Quickly saluting as Bachmeier picked up the radio, Bernard made his way downstairs, and flipped open his footlocker. With violently shaking hands, he fitted on his motley equipment, the fatigues left behind by a UNSC Air Force airman, the helmet of a UNSC Army MP,the armor of a SWAT officer, military surplus web gear, and his MA3A assault rifle. Closing his footlocker for what he knew was going to be his last time, Bernard moved outside, where his unit that lived in the barracks were milling.

"Sarah!" he said, turning to his girlfriend, "Get some civilian clothes, grab a Spade, move into town, collect the rest of the unit." he continued. "Rest of you, pile into the APC's!"

A few "Yes sir!"'s resounded from the fighters, but not many. Bernard knew many of them were not prepared for this. Some of them were as young as sixteen, who had joined the SSR because they thought it was the right thing to do, and here he was, asking them to die for the cause. Following the rest of his fighters, he jumped into the back of one of the elongated Warthogs. "Let's go!" he yelled to the driver, and the vehicle lurched forward, heading for the mountains.