The year is 2561. In the years after the Human-Covenant Wars, events have set the stage for a confrontation between the United States, who are fighting for independence, and the UNSC Defense Force, who will stop at nothing to put down the rebellion.



Date: June 25th, 2561, 1927 Hours

At Norfolk Naval Base, Virginia, the pride of the UNSC Navy's sea and spaceborne fleet was in for maintenance. In the base's radar post, the operators detected a formation of around twenty aircraft inbound for Norfolk. "It's probably just some planes coming in late" their superior responded, and they thought nothing of it.

In his WSO station, Captain Maximilian Jameson looked out his window on the city below them. The pilot peeked in, and spoke to him:

"Captain, we got ten minutes ETA to the base. Prepare all munitions for the bomb drop, affirmative?"

"Affirmative" Jameson responded

In the city of Norfolk, there were sightings of low flying swing wing aircraft coming in at high speeds being reported to the authorities. But they incessantly simply stated it was just UNSC aircraft inbound from a patrol.

Over Norfolk, the B-1 Lancers prepared to release their weapons on the UNSC Navy fleet below them. Calibrating the bombs for ground-burst, Jameson waited until the pilot gave him the go ahead, and proceeded to drop the bombs.

On the ground, SPARTAN Blue Team was waiting for their transport, when they saw a column of flame shoot up into the dusk sky. Rushing to the base, they saw that Norfolk's naval base was aflame, and that 90% of the fleet had been crippled in the attack, along with almost all the fuel and supplies destroyed, causing even more chaos.

At nearby Naval Air Station Oceana, the 1st Marine Division rushed the gates. With the power of shock and awe, they quickly took down the UNSC MPs guarding it, and assumed control of the base. Landing there, the B-1Bs were quickly refueled and rearmed, ready to attack the UNSC defending Washington D.C.

Chapter 1: Our Restrictions Are GoneEdit

Date: June 15th, 1100 Hours-2200 Hours

Outside Washington D.C., the 101st Air Assault Division had landed, and was pushing against the UNSC defenses set up. Unslinging his AT4, Corporal Paul Jackson fired at a UNSC pillbox, punching through the concrete, sending shrapnel into the crew manning the position, hamburgering them.

Running over to an 82nd Airborne First Sergeant, Jackson greeted him and asked

"Sergeant, do you know where in God's name our Stryker brigade is?!"

"Hell if I know Sergeant. From rumors I heard they got misdropped all around the city, and no one knows where on this earth they are!"

"Jesus! So we're on our own?"

"Until those tin cans can link up, yes."

"And what's your objective Sarge?"

"About three clicks north of here is one of the main bridges into Washington, Arlington Memorial Bridge." The 1st Sergeant spread out a map, and began pointing to structures. "There are entrenched positions here, here, and here. They are all armed to the teeth with anti infantry and tank weaponry."

"Right, so how do we get them down"

"I'll requisition some B-1Bs from Oceana, and if all goes well, you'll see armor rolling down that bridge like a bat out of hell."

"Roger, well then let's get moving"

"Alright then, lead the way, Jackson, is it?"

"Yes Sergeant"

"My names Blackburn. We're gonna use our names from now on, too much of a chance of a sniper noticing military courtesies and then dropping us."

As the ragtag squad of twelve 101st and 82nd Airborne Division and Marine Force Recon troops kept moving, they saw plumes of dust being thrown up in the National Mall. Blackburn deciphered it was M777 Howitzers bombarding UNSC troops still in the city.

As they came up on the defense point, Blackburn grabbed a radio, and began squaking with the Southern Bomber Command, who delegated one B-1 Lancer to help them. Then came the dreaded words "ETA ten minutes", followed by a staccato of rounds whizzing over their heads.

The rounds threw a cloud of vaporized concrete over their heads. "Sonofabitch!" yelled Blackburn yelled as he took a slug in the shoulder. "Medic!" yelled Jackson, and immediately a Multicam clad soldier with a med reg haircut arrived. "Who do you want me to fix up?" asked the medic, Corporal Gomez. Jackson pointed over at the First Sergeant and said "Poor guy took a round, I need you to fix him up". "Done" replied Gomez, as he ran over to Blackburn, and started his work.

All during this, 12.7mm rounds from an M41 in a pillbox continued to fire on them. Once Jackson heard the gun crew yelling for ammunition, he and his squad popped over the Jersey barrier. Loading a Beta Magazine into his M16A4, Jackson laid down suppressive fire on the unprotected crew. In the distance, he heard what sounded like a large bomber inbound. Knowing it was the Lancer Blackburn had called in, he yelled out an order "Get down!", as he pulled down a USMC Corporal who hadn't heard him.

Looking up, he saw black canisters being released from the bomber, and they steadily grew larger, until they impacted the bunkers, vaporizing them on impact, leaving the road to the National Mall, and therefore the White House and the Capitol Building.

Looking with binoculars across the way, he saw Strykers unloading troops to take back the Pentagon, and Humvees driving across the bridge, taking the eastern part of the city. On the banks of the Potomac, Stryker MGSs continued their incessant hellfire on the city.

The squad continued moving into the city, and it was eerily quiet. There was no sign of resistance in the city. The only lights in the blackness were what streetlights had survived the bombardment, and the fires of UNSC positions set alight by the bombing.

It was getting dark out, and so the squad climbed into the back of an M3 Bradley, and got some rest, sleeping off the heavy lifting they had done that day. Just before he went into the Brad, Jackson looked over at flagpoles all across the city, where United Earth Government flags were being torn down, and replaced with the Stars And Stripes. Smiling, he climbed into the M3, and settled in.

Chapter 2: C130 Rolling Down The StripEdit

Date: June 16th, 2561, 0012 Hours-0300 Hours

In the back of the C-130J Super Hercules, Captain Vasquez, from the United States Marine Corps First Recon Battalion, was having his fellow Marines check over his gear, making sure nothing was loose, before he did the same to his partner.

As the C130 thundered down the asphalt road, his teeth shook in his skull from the four massive turboprop engines, combined with the bumpy makeshift runway. Looking out the window, he saw the aircraft get off the ground, and in tune with the RATOs firing, he was pushed into his seat, and the aircraft almost went ninety degrees straight up, gaining altitude as fast as the combined power of the RATOs and props would allow.

As the thrust and climb dissipated, and the aircraft leveled off, the aircraft went into formation, and the troops made sure to keep their MREs eaten before the flight in their bodies.

In Area 51, UNSC Defense Force personnel had heard the news of the takeover. Catching a wing of ninety-five aircraft inbound on their base, they sent up SkyHawks to intercept the aircraft. In his F-22, Lieutenant Adam Makosky caught a flight of around nine UNSC aircraft heading on a course for them and the transports. Informing his flight of this, they broke off and went on a collision course for the SkyHawks. Getting one in his gunsights, Makosky depressed the button on his stick, and the 20mm cannon burped as tracers flew out and hit the aircraft right in the cockpit, sending the aircraft going down in black smoke, in stark contrast to the beautiful blue Nevada sky.

As they reached the target are, the transports came under heavy anti aircraft fire, but held formation. As the ramp opened, the men of Marine 1st Recon jumped into the howling blast. Going into the spread eagle position, Vasquez, directed hi squad to link up with him, and at one thousand feet, they opened their chutes, coming down right in front of their target, the entrance to the underground bunkers at Area 51.

Producing a thermite canister, Vasquez had one of his men drill a hole for it in the door. He proceeded to stuff the thermite in the cavity, before pulling the pin and running. As the mixture ignited, it burned right through, allowing one of the Marines to open it from the inside.

Moving down the stairs, they encountered little resistance. That is, until a SPARTAN-IV popped out of one of the dorms, aiming a pistol. But Vasquez's aim was more true, and the 7.62 round from his M14 popped a clean hole through the IV's chest cavity.

Moving further down the hall, they secured the command center, and called for the echelon staff to head downstairs and take over. Heading back up topside, they jumped in their Humvee, bristling with guns, and began to burn rubber as they went full speed toward Nellis AFB, leading the charge there too.

After about twenty minutes of going whole hog, they finally reached the fence near the runway. Vasquez ordered "Fuck it, drive on!", and the Force Recon squad came crashing through the fence. Hanging a right, Vasquez ordered them down the runway. Getting on the Ma Deuce, one of his Marines began blazing away at a Pelican taking off in a conventional fashion. The last they saw of it was the dropship spiraling downward.

Heading onto the flightline, the Marines blazed away at men and munitions, setting the base afire, and overall wreaking chaos with the explosions. Eventually, the rest of the forces arrived, and continued to press the assault.

Meanwhile, Sergeant Houseman continued driving past the wrecked checkpoint into the now contested Nellis AFB. In his sights was a squad of Scorpion tanks. Firing the 120mm cannon at them, two shells hit his tanks, but failed to detonate, and his rounds blew the ammunition stores on the M808s up.

Behind him, the foreign 1st Panzer Division followed them into Nellis, mopping up. The 1st was made up of German sympathizers to their cause. Armed with Leopard MBTs, they were superior to Scorpions and even the fabled Grizzly in every way.

Meanwhile, In Las Vegas

On the Las Vegas Strip, firefights were erupting between U.S. Army Special Forces and the UEG Police. With their superior training and weaponry, the SF quickly won the city, allowing the 1st Infantry Division to occupy it. All across the nation, the scenes of United States troops marching down Main Street was now commonplace.

From Hawaii to Washington D.C., the United States Government now had full authority, and through patriotic posters and slogans, almost 95% of the population now supported the cause.

Chapter 3: Last ResortEdit

September 6th-8th, 2561

In the Aleutian Islands, UNSC General George Stryker was absolutely mortified that United States rebels had managed to gain control of the whole country. Knowing that a conventional invasion would be impossible, he called for one thousand SPARTANs, hoping that they would be able to overwhelm the U.S. garrison in California and gain a foothold.

At Edwards AFB in California, Captain Maximilian Jameson was preparing to fly on a massive bombing raid to Tokyo, knowing that the UNSC had likely retreated there, and that they were amassing a fleet to try and take back North America.

Climbing into the B1, he settled in and began to wait as he watched through his window as the aircraft took off and formed up with the rest. Bracing himself, the aircraft formation sped up, going faster than the speed of sound.

Sitting in his chair for hours, eventually they formed up with a group of KC-10 tankers, topping off their tanks before continuing the long journey. As the pilot signaled to him that they were nearing Tokyo, a group of AC130 Spectre gunships formed up as well, only a few hundred feet above them. As they reached Tokyo, Jameson began his checks for the bombing run, and the inevitable exchange between him and the pilot.

"Bomb bays open?"


"Bombs fused for airburst at 25 feet?"

"Bombs fused for burst at 25 feet"

"All systems green?"

"All systems green sir!"

"Roger, wait for my go, and then drop half of our munitions"

"Understood, why only half?"

"In case another aircraft has to abort, and then we have to take over for it"


But the contingency plan did not have to be implemented.; Looking around him, Jameson saw no other Lancers or AC130s. Releasing the munitions, he felt one jolt, and that, combined with the pilot's aggressive evasive action, either meant a SAM had been fired, or they had dropped a nuclear device.

Those thoughts, or at least the latter, was confirmed when the aircraft shook and a bright flash enveloped the area outside. Once it wore off, Jameson looked out, and saw a mushroom cloud rising above the city, and under it, nothing but dust and wreckage.

In the area around Tokyo, Corporal Ulan was driving his Abrams like he stole it. Air dropped from a C-5 Galaxy, the second the parachute was removed, he immediately hit the gas, rolling through the area. As he crossed into Tokyo's city limits, a ragtag group of M808 Scorpions tried to stop the American tanker. Firing the 120mm cannon, it rang through the M1A2 as the shells began to smoke the Scorpions, leaving the road open.

Inside the city, a cloud of dust enveloped the once proud city. Inside his NBC protected Abrams, Ulan was just fine. Assessing the damage, he fired out a specialized round designed to detect radiation and how long it would take for it to be inhabitable again.

The counter stated it would take years to be inhabitable again. Getting on the highway, he started moving the Abrams northbound. Hitting 60mph, he came to an armed checkpoint. Looking at the men, Ulan could see some breaking ranks as he came at them guns blazing. Smashing through the Jersey Barriers, he continued towards the main northern UNSC base.

Stopping there, he saw the whole place was flattened and nothing but ashes. Calling for extract, the Corporal's tank was pulled up and out of the area by an CH-47 Chinook. One of his crewmembers said

"Rumor has it that we've actually taken back the entirety of the United States, and that some Colonel Ryan's being awarded the Medal Of Honor for commanding the USS Bismarck against the UNSC fleet."

Ulan simply grinned to this, and waited for them to return home.

Chapter 4: To Hell And BackEdit

December 4th-25th, 2561

Off the coast of Seattle, Washington, the UNSC Marines were freezing in their landing boats, as they idled, waiting for the rest of the force to load up and get in formation.

At the defense wall, Corporal Murphy looked through his binoculars, and caught a glimpse of the force waiting out near the coast. Knowing what was about to happen, Murphy alerted the entire defense wall by sounding the bugle call to arms.

Within a millisecond, the entire mood of the base changed. Soldiers rushed to their positions, from pillboxes with machine guns, observation positions, to the massive shore guns. Murphy went to his shore gun, a 280mm gun mounted on a train car. Operating the gun's aim, the Corporal did the math, and took aim at the estimated position of the landing boats, before giving the order to fire, letting the gun kick back, and smelling the cordite from the shell.

In Hernandez-A219's rigid boat, he and his SPARTAN fireteam heard the rounds before they slammed into a heavy cruiser, splitting it in two, sending it to the bottom. Now that the U.S. knew that the invasion force was there, General Stryker ordered them to launch it prematurely.

As the boats began to close in on the beach, the fire grew thicker as they moved into the range of more munitions. Some boats caught afire from API machine gun fire, others were capsized from the shockwave of the big 280mm round, some were riddled with 30mm rounds, and only a few made it to the landing zone itself.

Sergeant Danvers, from the UNSC Colonial Marines, was on one of the few boats that made it to the beach itself. As the ramp dropped, 7.62 mm rounds from M240Bs in the bunkers chopped men down. Sprinting for all he was worth toward the blind spot for the guns, the Sergeant eventually reached it.

Looking behind him, Danvers saw the landing boats attempting to land, and the men aboard them being shredded by gunfire from the german Army.

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