37 Drop! Drop! Drop!

The adjutant nodded, turning to relay the orders, but the leader grabbed his arm.

"Wait.

How many men do we have left capable of fighting?"

The leader's voice was stern, demanding an immediate assessment.

The adjutant swallowed hard, his face pale in the dim light.

"We have around 100 men left, my f*hrer, everyone else Is either dead or too injured to fight."

One hundred against a Terran assault. The odds were grim, and the leader knew it, their fiasco at the United Parliament proved It.

"Arm everyone. Distribute all the weapons and ammo we have left. Set up traps and barricades at every entry point. We'll turn this bunker into a death trap for the Terrans."

His voice was resolute, tinged with a desperate edge of determination.

"Understood, my f*hrer. What about you?"

The adjutant's question hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of their situation.

The leader's gaze hardened.

"I'll be at the front. I'll lead our defense personally. If this is our end, then I'll face it alongside my men."

The adjutant nodded, a mixture of respect and sadness in his eyes. He turned to leave, but the leader called out again.

"Wait. If... if it comes to it, ensure there's an escape route for you and a few others. The world must know what happened here."

The adjutant paused, torn between obedience and the urge to protest.

"But my f*hrer—"

"No,"

The leader cut him off, his tone final.

"The movement might survive through those who escape. Tell our story. Now go, prepare the defense."

As the adjutant hurried out to relay the orders, the leader took a moment to compose himself. He walked over to the large flag, running his hand over the emblem—a symbol of defiance that had fueled his cause.

He then turned and moved to a concealed cabinet, retrieving his personal firearm—a well-worn but reliable 50 cal pistol that had been his companion through many battles.

He checked its magazine and chambered a round, the familiar click echoing in the quiet room.

The leader then moved to a secure communication console. He intended to record a final message, a testament to their struggle and a call to those who might continue the fight in their absence.

As he began to speak, his words were firm, infused with a mix of defiance and an underlying sense of impending doom.

"To all who stand for humanity's sovereignty, this may be my final broadcast. We are under siege by the Terranum Imperium. Our movement has been decimated, but our spirit remains unbroken. If we fall today, let our sacrifice be a beacon for future resistance. Remember us, continue the fight, and never surrender your freedom."

He ended the recording and sent it through secure channels, hoping it would reach sympathetic ears but unbeknown to him it was all to no avail because the Terran dropship had already deployed Its communication Interference measures.

As he turned off the console, another series of explosions rattled the bunker, signaling the intensifying Terran assault.

The leader took a deep breath, steeling himself for the battle ahead. He knew the chances of survival were slim, but he was determined to fight to the very end, to stand for his beliefs, regardless of the overwhelming odds.

As he stepped out of his room, he was greeted by the sight of his remaining militants who were ready to fight. He gave them a solemn nod, a silent acknowledgment of their shared fate.

Together, they moved toward their defensive positions, ready to face the Terran forces in what would likely be their final stand.

...

A few minutes earlier.

As Echo-One approached the target, a hidden military base nestled in a dense forest, the three accompanying Wraith fighters flew In front of us. The silence in the dropship was palpable, every death marine Including myself poised for the impending assault.

The pilot's voice crackled over the comm.

"Target in sight. Initiating attack."

Both fighters and dropship pilots locked their missiles onto the targets Identified by their space crafts AIs.

The first salvo was a symphony of destruction, precision-guided missiles streaking towards the base.

Explosions blossomed below as the Anti-Aircraft installations and key structures, including vehicle hangars and barracks, erupted in flames and debris.

The pilots expertly navigated the dropship through the chaos, the Wraiths circling back for a strafing run, their 50 mm and laser gattling cannons blazing, cutting through enemy forces with deadly precision.

Tracers and red laser beams lit up the sky, painting a grim picture of the battlefield below.

Inside the dropship, I watched the unfolding destruction, analyzing the effectiveness of the airstrike. The Wraiths' ferocity ensured minimal resistance for our ground insertion.

"AA defenses neutralized. Ground team is clear for drop."

The pilot reported through our synced communication channel while he maneuvered the dropship directly above the heart of the burning base.

The interior lights of Echo-One shifted to green, signaling imminent deployment.

"Stand up! On my mark!"

I barked my voice amplified by my helmet speakers.

The Marines, including myself, rose in unison, our heavy boots thudding against the dropship's metal floor.

The adrenaline and synthetic stimulants produced and released by our cybernetic Implants were palpable among us, a collective readiness for the chaos to come.

The dropship hovered just above the treetops, the heat of the burning base below creating swirling currents of air.

The scent of smoke and burnt metal infiltrated the dropship, a stark reminder of the impending battle.

"Drop! Drop! Drop!"

The dropship master chief yelled, slamming his fist onto a button. The square hatches beneath us snapped open, and one by one, we dropped into the heart of the enemy stronghold.

As we descended, I activated my suit's Inbuilt thrusters, controlling my fall. Around me, my Marines did the same, their silhouettes outlined against the backdrop of fire and destruction.

We hit the ground with the force of a meteorite strike, our power armor absorbing the impact but despite that, we still felt the Impact In augmented and artificially Implanted our organs, the ground around us was a chaos of fire, debris, and disoriented enemy combatants.

While the dropship sides and ramp opened up with 3 laser gattling guns extending outwards that Instantly got manned by the dropship master chief and two gunners.

The moment they did their barrels started spinning and pouring out red thick laser beams that burned right through the unlucky militants who managed to survive the initial attack.

"Form up! Secure the perimeter!"

I commanded, my voice cutting through the noise. The Marines swiftly formed a defensive ring, their weapons trained on any potential threat.

The base was a mess of destruction, with remnants of buildings still smoldering and enemy soldiers scrambling to mount a defense.

The initial shock of our arrival gave us a momentary advantage, and we pressed forward.

"Move out! No survivors!"

I ordered as I started leading the squad forward. We moved through the base with lethal precision, each Marine a whirlwind of destruction.

Our weapons barked in unison, cutting down enemy militants who dared to oppose us.

The power armor's enhanced systems provided us with heightened senses and reflexes, making us unstoppable juggernauts on the battlefield.

As we advanced, I kept a keen eye on our surroundings. The objective was clear – eliminate the Humanity First leadership and dismantle their last stronghold.

Amidst the chaos, I felt a surge of exhilaration mixed with a cold sense of purpose. This was more than just a mission; it was a statement of the Terranum Imperium's dominance and resolve.

Every fallen enemy was a testament to our superiority and the futility of opposing us.

The base, now a battlefield, echoed with the sounds of gunfire and explosions. My Marines moved like shadows, their training and instincts making them efficient and deadly.