The Titan Order:Prologue

                 "Titans, gather round!" Ser Berristan's voice boomed, cutting through the chaos of the battlefield. The acrid stench of smoke and burning metal hung heavy in the air as he addressed his fellow knights. "We are going to cover the retreat. The empire's forces will be over the crest of that hill any moment. We have to hold this line, give the boys on the ground enough time to get on the transports and evacuate. Our extraction can only come after every last man is on a transport and off this damned planet. I don't have to tell you that some of us might not make it, but we will do our damned best to make sure they all do."

Ser Tristan scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, screw it. I like dying as much as the next guy. If someone's gotta get shot, I'd rather it be my tin can than some greenhorn with shine still on his boots."

The third knight, Seria, remained silent. She swiveled her suit towards the hill, the sound of grinding gears filling the tense silence. With one hand gripping her shield and the other holding a massive rifle, she exuded an unwavering determination.

Ser Berristan and Ser Tristan stood shoulder to shoulder, creating an imposing shield wall. The massive shields covered most of their bodies, revealing only their feet at the bottom and a single glowing optical eye at the top. Their tank-like rifles rested on specially designed edges, ready to unleash devastation.

As the ground rumbled beneath them, the deafening roar of engines and the crunching of rocks reached their ears before the enemy tanks came into view. Four tanks emerged over the crest of the hill, their monstrous forms angling down towards the trio of titans. In perfect synchrony, the tanks unleashed a thunderous volley of shells, their explosive impact shaking the earth. But the shield wall held firm, deflecting the onslaught.

The knights swiftly coordinated their counterattack, each focusing their fire on the tank furthest to the right. The rounds tore through the enemy's armor and shields, causing ammunition to detonate. The tank's turret was ripped from its body, hurtling through the air in a fiery blaze of destruction.

Breaking their formation, the knights discarded their shields and rifles, drawing forth colossal swords specifically crafted for their gargantuan suits. As their hands gripped the superheated blades, a low growl echoed through the air, the energy coursing through the material with a fierce intensity.

The knights surged forward, their armored forms closing in on the menacing tanks. The enemy's machine guns rattled, a storm of bullets pelting the titanic suits, only to ricochet harmlessly off their impenetrable shells. With a flourish, the knights closed the distance, their colossal swords slashing through the air with lethal intent. Blades of tempered metal, their edges superheated to a searing glow, extended from their grips, pulsating with power and purpose. As the swords connected with the tanks' armor, metal screeched and shattered, leaving behind a trail of destruction and stunned operators.

Amid the chaos, Ser Tristan wiped a sizzling film of oil from his gleaming blade, his eyes darting over the desolate battlefield. But his momentary relief was shattered as the very earth trembled beneath his feet, as if the planet itself rebelled against the approaching onslaught. Startled, he peeked over the crest of the hill, his heart sinking at the sight before him.

A vast battalion of empire tanks rumbled forward, their numbers stretching as far as the eye could see. Hundreds of mechanical beasts, accompanied by an overwhelming wave of infantry, surged towards them with relentless determination. Tristan's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening at the sheer magnitude of the encroaching force.

"Uh, guys, I don't think we have enough seats for this much company," Tristan quipped, a mix of awe and incredulity lacing his voice.

Without hesitation, Ser Barristan retrieved his shield and rifle, securing them back onto his shoulders with swift precision. He tossed Tristan his armaments, the weight of the responsibility palpable in the air.

"We will hold this line, no matter the cost," Barristan declared, his voice carrying the weight of unyielding determination. "We must ensure the soldiers' escape. Titans, together we stand!"

The battlefield lay shrouded in a thick haze of smoke and swirling dust, the air heavy with the scent of destruction and the bitter reminder of lives lost. Among the desolation, the Titans stood, towering figures of unyielding might amidst the wreckage. Lifeless machines, their once formidable frames now reduced to twisted scrap, lay strewn across the scarred earth, testaments to the fury of the battle. Countless fallen infantry, their life forces extinguished, painted a grim tableau of sacrifice and loss.

Sir Berristan, his armor bearing the scars of the harrowing clash, stood tall even with a leg off his suit missing amidst the devastation, an arm draped around each of his weary squad mates. The three knights moved with an unspoken understanding, their steps heavy and their hearts burdened with the weight of the fallen. In silence, they made their way towards the awaiting exfil transport, its ramp beckoning like a portal to sanctuary. Each breath was labored, each movement etched with the haunting memories of the relentless struggle they had just endured.

As the Titans ascended the ramp, the transport crew stood in stunned silence, their eyes wide with awe and reverence. They witnessed the trio, their armor worn and battle-scarred, emerge from the depths of the battlefield, a testament to the horrors left behind. A collective hush fell upon them, broken only by the rustling of salute as hands rose to foreheads in a gesture of silent respect. No words were spoken, for none were needed. The metal-clad soldiers, their sacrifice and unwavering resolve evident, passed through the threshold of the transport, leaving behind a scene of devastation that would forever be etched in the memories of those who bore witness.