The Imperium, The Republic and The Guard

As Captain Hanson expected, it took only a short time before Imperial reinforcements joined the party in Research Outpost Delta.

Thirteen minutes after the Republic marines landed in the research outpost, 70 Imperial Sabertooth class combat dropships, escorted by several squadrons of Rattlesnake class starfighters, arrived at the outpost. Each dropship carried 15 fully armed and armored Imperial naval commandos. In total, three companies of commandos were deployed on the mission.

Due to the size of the shuttle bay, only a third of these dropships headed there. As soon as these dropships hit the ground in the bay, they were greeted with waves of explosions and scattered gunfire from hostiles who had already taken up defensive positions in the shuttle bay. This was, of course, to be expected.

Hundreds of Imperial naval commandos poured out of the dropships via the entrances on the two sides of the dropships. The sigil engraved on their black and red power armor was that of a large rectangular shield and a sword over the shield. The shield identified them as members of the Imperial Navy while the sword marked their designation as Imperial naval commandos. In the hands of many of them were Defender-66 scatter rifles, weapons designed to be particularly devastating to armored infantry targets at close range. Some of these men carried large, cumbersome shields.

Shrapnels and gunfire immediately resulted in many casualties among the Imperials, but the commandos simply rushed forward, their large shields serving as a layer of valuable mobile protection that complemented their own armor.

Despite the best attempt by the Republic marines, they quickly lost control of the shuttle bay to the much larger force of commandos. Most of the platoon in this area was overwhelmed while the survivors retreated into the outpost with the Imperials hot on their tail.

At the same time, the rest of the landing party landed at three landing zones within the perimeter of the outpost, bypassing the series of automated gun turrets and mines built to protect the outpost against a possible attack by the local wildlife. As the dropships lifted off to pick up a second wave of reinforcements, the commandos on the ground quickly breached the walls with explosive charges, formed several entrances, and made their way into the structure of the outpost.

Now inside the corridors of the outpost, these commandos started advancing toward the lab and quickly found themselves facing incoming fire from Republic marines.

Soon, gunshots, this time so much more intense than before, once again echoed through the halls of Outpost Delta.

Athena took a glance at the two Imperial legionnaires standing not far from her. She couldn't see their expressions since their faces were completely hidden from view, but she knew they must have heard the same thing she did. The gunshots. The explosions. Even if she didn't have her roaches still underground scattered throughout the base to act as her eyes and ears, she still knew one simple thing. Help was here. Finally.

The roaches fed information to her to the best of their abilities. They weren't exactly the smartest units out there, but it didn't take too much intelligence to simply state what they saw. After a while, as the battle outside raged on, Athena was able to get a basic idea of what was happening outside.

The Republic marines were making a desperate last stand in the outpost. They had no way out, and they had no leverage. While a small group of them were making a futile attempt to breach the gate of the lab, most of the marines did their best to delay the Imperials.

To their credit, these marines were definitely good fighters. Even in a scenario like this, they would rather go down fighting than surrender. The tight corridors of the outpost also served as a good battlefield for these marines. Given that marines were often stationed on warships and were well-experienced when it came to fighting in confined spaces, this was precisely what they were trained and equipped for. The limited resources these marines brought to the ground were used to their full potential. Large combat shields to serve as cover from incoming fire. Remotely detonated explosives to ambush the enemies. Grenade launchers and flamethrowers to bypass enemy shields. Even the limited number of short-range spy and bomber drones they brought with them were put to use.

Unfortunately for the marines, their foes were equally trained and experienced in this area of war. The commandos had everything the marines had, and they also outnumbered the marines by 3-to-1. This advantage wasn't something that could be changed by willpower or determination.

As minutes went by, casualties started to rise on both sides. Marines and commandos alike lay dead throughout the outpost. There was little attempt by either side to help their wounded. The marines didn't have the time or the resources, and the commandos were solely focused on their objective of capturing or terminating the enemies as quickly as possible. The adrenaline shot administered by their own armor could keep most of the wounded alive for the medics to arrive as part of the second wave. The few that couldn't last until then were simply the necessary sacrifice.

As her resource count continued to rise from all the death going on around her roaches, Athena couldn't help but compare the naval commandos to her own comrades in the Imperial Army. She was willing to admit that these commandos performed much better here than several companies of the Imperial Army would in the same situation. If it was the Imperial Army that was assaulting this position, they would likely suffer much more casualties and take much longer to win.

Then again, this was to be expected. The Imperial Navy, including the Naval Commando Legion, had always prioritized quality over quantity. The Imperial Army, on the other hand, had no such luxury.

Athena remembered a number of her former comrades comparing the Legion and the Army and debating which was the strongest of the two forces, but such discussions were ultimately meaningless. After all, the Legion and the Army served two distinct purposes.

The Legion's primary job was to perform or defend against boarding actions. This required them to be experts at fighting in close quarters and using relatively tame weapons. At the same time, since these commandos would remain on warships for extended periods of time, it was quite costly to maintain a unit of commandos. Navy personnel also had higher compensations to attract talent. Overall, commandos were expensive to hire and keep, so they had to be the best of the best.

Forces of the Imperial Army, on the other hand, were often tasked with attacking, garrisoning, or defending entire planets whose populations could be in the tens of billions. Often a planetwide campaign required the deployment of tens of millions of troops simply due to the ground that had to be covered and the number of people that had to be subjugated and watched. The Army couldn't afford to set the same standards the Legion did.

The strength of the Imperial Army resided in its ability to fight on more traditional battlegrounds. Divisions of the Army were equipped with air, artillery, and armored units needed to fight a ground war. The troops were drilled on combined-arms tactics. While the commandos usually see their battles settled in a few hours, the Imperial soldiers might find themselves in wars that would drag on for months and perhaps even years.

In closed battlefields like the outpost, the commandos excelled, but Athena knew that if the commandos were for some reason ordered to engage a unit of the Imperial Army on an open field, they would be easily demolished.

Even as the gunshots and explosions continued all around them, Athena knew everything was about to be over soon. As she was deep in her own thoughts, the marines trying to breach the lab had been flanked by the commandos. Most of the Republic marines in the base were dead or captured, and the remaining forces have been pushed back to the mess hall. Multiple commando units were converging in that direction.

Soon, the only ones alive in this outpost would be the Imperials and their prisoners. Thanks to her actions, she had secured her place among the former.

In the mess hall, after a series of skirmishes between his men and the Imperial commandos, Captain Sato gathered the rest of his marines for a last stand. There were only thirty or so of them left, and their resources were almost completely depleted. Even so, not a single one of them thought of surrendering. These men were the best of the Republic. For their whole lives, they had been taught that it was better to die standing than live kneeling. Plus, they all knew what the Imperium did to its prisoners. A quick death was their best outcome given the situation.

Among the marines in blue and white armor was a single man that stood out. A single unarmed and unarmored man.

Captain Hanson stumbled a few more steps before collapsing against a dining table. He wasn't doing too well. His weapon was nowhere to be seen. A single piece of shrapnel had buried itself in his stomach. They had neither the time nor the resources to remove the shrapnel and treat the injury. All the captain could do was try to stay awake for as long as possible, and it wasn't an easy task.

The shrapnel was the result of one of the many brutal close-quarter fightings that went down in the past few minutes. During one engagement, an Imperial suicide bomber drone came out of nowhere and dove into the group of marines and rebels. The drone, a model designed to be small and agile, didn't pack too much of a punch. Its shrapnels only took out two marines who were too close and injured a few others, but for the unarmored rebels, the explosion was devastating.

Captain Hanson remembered seeing a pair of his own bodyguards being cut down by pieces of metal. Captain Diaz was hit with a piece of shrapnel in the leg before being shot in the chest by a scatter rifle. He died instantly. These men were all veterans who had fought and survived for years, not that any of it mattered. The captain was lucky enough to walk away from the engagement, but not unharmed.

It was almost ironic how closely the battle in the outpost resembled how things were between the three factions. The Imperium and the Republic were going at each other with resources and elite troops fit for galactic superpowers, and then there was the Guard, siding with the Republic and unable to accomplish much after their cover had been blown and they were forced into a firefight.

As a puddle of his own blood started to form underneath him, Captain Hanson felt his head getting heavier and heavier and the world around him getting more and more blurry. Maybe it was the blood loss. Maybe it was the concussion weapons used by the Imperial commandos. It was no longer relevant.

The captain could see the Republic marines doing their best to put up a defense. After all, the Imperials were approaching fast. The commandos had the means to rotate weakened and exhausted units with fresh troops. The marines had no such luxury. He could see the Republic captain, whatever his name was, rallying his men for a last defense. He could see some of the faces of the marines. He wanted to pick up his weapon and joined these marines, but he simply couldn't.

As he lay there, dying, so many intense memories started going through the captain's head.

He remembered the day he signed up for the Imperial Army. The proud smile on the faces of his mother and father, both of whom were veterans. He remembered the fear that was worn by his two older sisters as they begged him to stay safe. He remembered stepping onto the battlefield for the first time and witnessing the hell created by countless missiles, artillery barrages, and bombs. He remembered watching his comrades change again and again while he himself survived long enough to climb the ranks.

Decades went by, and he remained a loyalist. He remembered the happiness he felt when he met his wife and the excitement he had when she gave him a son after they spent years trying and failing to have a child. He remembered watching proudly as his own son, after coming of age, followed the example made by his father and grandfather and volunteered for the Imperial Army.

That was when the happy memories ended, and memories of fear and anger took their place. The captain remembered his own shock and horror when he heard that the entirety of the armored division his son was in was abandoned on a hostile planet and wiped out in a disastrous invasion of the world. He remembered doing everything he could to find out what happened, only to hear from a close friend that the man responsible for the mistake was an officer in the Imperial Navy, a fresh graduate of a naval academy that was only given his command because of his last name.

Of course, thanks to his powerful family, his name would never be on any official report of this operation, nor would there be any investigations into wrongdoings. The death of his son and his entire division was, ultimately, meaningless. No one would be held responsible. Nothing would change. The same man who doomed tens of thousands would go on to live a life of comfort and influence as a high-ranking member of the Imperial Navy.

That was when his love for this empire turned into anger and he saw the truth of what the Imperium was. In this Imperium, despite the propaganda, civilians like him were just another resource to be produced and spent as needed by the upper class of the Imperium. The leaders and the nobles. The people belonged to the Imperium, and the Imperium belonged to its elites.

Gunshots started appearing all around him, and they were getting closer and closer. Captain Hanson bit his lips and tried to gather his strength. To get up. To fight. He wished to tear down this corrupt regime and give its people the fair and just society they deserved. He wanted to pull the Leviathan off his throne and drag him through the streets of his own empire to see the suffering of the people. He wanted to seize every corrupt noble and lord and burn them alive for their crimes. Unfortunately, it seemed like none of that would be happening.

In a universe like this, the fury of a man meant nothing if he didn't have the power to back it up.

The captain never stood up again. He died with fury in his chest, and all the while the naval officer responsible for the death of his son never knew he existed.

Three minutes later, the Imperial naval commandos seized the mess hall, destroying the last group of enemies in the outpost and reclaiming it in the name of the glorious Venya Imperium and the almighty Leviathan.