by Sean Robins
The last evening on the island, while we were drinking on the beach, next to a bonfire, and listening to the relaxing sound of the waves, I said, “I wish we didn’t have to go back.”
My wife, a bit drunk, asked, “You what now?”
“I’m so happy here, and all I want in my life is to be with you. We could just stay here, or even take the Firefly and go wherever we want. We’ll take all our friends with us, even Allen.”
“And Tarq?” asked Liz, playing with a lock of hair.
“Oh my God, no!” I feigned shock. “He’ll drive us crazy with his stupid pranks.”
“Okay. Let’s say Kurt, I, and the others decide to leave Earth and run away,” she said. “Will you go?”
I thought about it for a minute. “Nope.”
“Why not?”
I sighed. “You know why.”
She chuckled. “Sure I do. You aren’t going anywhere unless you can fit all the pilots under your command in this Firefly.”
“Not only the pilots,” I said. “The ground crew too. Anyone who is in the fleet is my responsibility, and they wouldn’t leave without their family and friends. We’d have to take all the forty-six thousand people in Winterfell with us.”
So just like Adam and Eve, we wound up leaving Heaven too. The difference was we left voluntarily. We returned to Winterfell as scheduled and were welcomed by my new in-laws and old friends.
I entered our quarters, followed by Liz, put my bags down, stretched and said, “Home, sweet home.”
I jumped out of my skin when I heard Cordelia said in her dulcet voice, “Welcome home, Jim.”
I gasped. “Cordelia! How? When? Where?”
“Kurt has asked me to tell you I’m your wedding present,” she said. “Congratulations to you both, by the way.”
“Thanks, Cordi,” said Liz.
“FYI, Lilly has upgraded me using Akaki technology. I feel I’m a sentient being now,” said Cordelia. “And fair warning: My tongue is sharper than ever.”
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” said Venom. “Can we send her back?”
“With Cordelia and Venom living with us, we have a family already,” I told Liz.
Chapter Eight
Earth’s Exosphere - April 13, 2048, 11:00 EST
The crimson Deathbringer appeared six thousand miles above Earth.
Maada looked at the blue planet in front of him and wondered how long it would take before someone detected his space fighter. This was an underdeveloped civilization, but their jet fighters, though outdated, did have the capability to interfere with the deployment of the Voice of God, which made a full-scale invasion necessary.
Maada unconsciously rubbed the burn marks on his face. He got those many years ago in a battle over another blue planet, which had looked like this one. He could easily have them—and the other scars and burn marks on his face and neck—removed, but he had earned them in battle and wore them as a badge of honor.
He had always enjoyed these solitary moments of just sitting there looking at his target. It had become a ritual for him. He lived for these moments, knowing what was about to follow. Since he was a child, he had known he was destined to do great things for his people, to change their world and ease their suffering. He could not have imagined he would end up conquering the galaxy, although now he did not see how it could have been otherwise. The galaxy was full of prizes his planet needed; what else was his life for? He had no wife, no children. A lifetime of military campaigns left no time for that, but his legacy, a Xortaag star kingdom ruling over the known universe, would last for thousands of years.
He felt sorry for the inhabitants of the planet. Unlike Mushgaana and most other Xortaags, who had convinced themselves they were indeed gods and would not spare a moment thinking about the other species in the universe, Maada regretted having to kill a whole sentient species off. He took no pleasure in it beyond the satisfaction of winning. He would have spared them if he could if there was enough wealth to go around, but sadly, there was not. His people were fertile. Twenty-five billion Xortaags lived on Tangaar. Without colonies, they would have all died a long time ago. A guilty conscience was a small price to pay for the survival of his people.
In a blink of an eye, the rest of the Xortaag fleet appeared behind him. Forty thousand space fighters, plus Mushgaana’s command ship, which was the biggest military vessel in the fleet by a large margin. Despite her impressive array of both offensive and defensive weapons, she usually stayed as far away from danger as possible.
Maada smiled viciously, his compassion locked away until the next time he let it out for an airing. People down there must be pissing their pants right about now, he thought.
He contacted his fighter pilots and simply said, “Happy hunting.”
The fleet started moving toward their target.
New York - 11.10 EST
Kurt was waiting with a group of new recruits hidden in an abandoned building to be picked up by a Firefly when Tarq called him and said, “It has begun.”
Kurt didn’t need to ask what “it” was. Based on the reports sent by an Akaki spy ship shadowing the Xortaag fleet, Tarq had predicted they’d arrive today.
Kurt was in an abandoned building that used to be a shopping mall. Some fifty new recruits were scattered in a big hall, some sitting on the dusty floor, some standing in groups or walking around. Allen and five other Resistance members were standing guard next to boarded windows.
“Jim is on his way to meet you,” said Tarq. “We might have a problem though: If you are still on the way when OMC-BOWS starts to work, there is no telling how the new people will react. They might turn on you.”
“Allen and I’ve already thought about that possibility,” said Kurt.
He disconnected the call and put his PDD in the pocket of his black trench coat. He’d expected to be anxious, but to his surprise, he was calm, even though his breath slightly quickened. The whole alien invasion thing still felt more like a movie than reality.
Plus, it was just another bunch of murderous madmen. He’d been standing up to these kinds of bastards for two years. Only this time he had an army behind him.
His footsteps echoing throughout the empty hall, he went to Allen. He was sharing the news when a tall, strikingly beautiful blond approached them and said, “Eh, Mr. von der Hagen?”
Allen rolled his eyes and growled, “Colonel.”
Kurt looked questioningly at the woman. She was dressed in blue jeans and a simple white t-shirt, but she looked more like a professional model than a Resistance fighter. “My name’s Oksana,” she said. “You don’t know me, but I tipped you guys about Palermo’s visit to The Harem.”
“So in a way, you’re the person who started all this,” said Kurt.
“What do you mean?”
“Long story,” said Kurt. “How did you find out about Palermo? He always managed to keep his movements secret.”
Oksana nodded towards another young blond girl sitting on the ground. “My sister and I were forced to work there. Palermo beat her to within an inch of her life. I couldn’t let him get away with it.”
Kurt was taken aback. He was about to say something like “I am so sorry” when the woman said, “All due respect, if you say anything patronizing, Colonel, I’ll break your jaw.”
Kurt didn’t show it, but he was pleased by her response. The woman was ready to throw it down with the strongest person in her new home. That showed character.
Allen snarled, “You have any martial arts training, girlie?”
“You want to see for yourself, old man?” Oksana countered.
“I like this one. She’s feisty,” Allen told Kurt.
Kurt tried to change the subject. “How did you end up with us?”
“My sister and I ran away from The Harem,” she said. “We went to someone who had connections with the Resistance. He helped us join up, and here we are.”
Allen checked his PDD. “Our ride is here.”
A f
ew minutes later, when they were all in, the Firefly took off. Kurt addressed the new recruits, “I just want to apologize in advance about what comes next. Please believe me when I say this is for your safety.”
Kurt and Allen put on gas masks and threw two gas grenades into the crowd.
An intense, primal fear seized Oksana. She’d come all this way to be killed in an ambush! At least she was with her sister in the end. She grasped Anastasiya’s hand and managed to say, “Love all, trust a few,” before she lost consciousness.
New York - 11.45 EST
General Zheng couldn’t believe his own eyes.
Along with his top generals, he was sitting around an oval desk in their operation room, looking at a giant wall-mounted screen showing a fleet of alien spaceships approaching Earth. Scores of junior offices and aides were running around. Everyone was talking loudly at the same time. The operation room was so noisy Zheng had a hard time hearing his own thoughts.
Zheng felt he was about to throw up. His muscles were so tight his back ached. This can’t be happening, he thought. All those years he plotted to be the most powerful man on earth, the waiting, the sacrifices—he thought briefly of the wife who had left him, her accusations about his ego and cruelty—just for this. To be helpless, made a fool of. The loser in charge when aliens invaded.
It was a big fleet, some forty thousand ships. The Air Force fighters had scrambled to meet this unexpected threat, but the fact that the enemy was flying in space was a clear indication of their much superior technology and capabilities. This wasn’t exactly news. It’d always been assumed if an alien species came to Earth, they’d be technologically more advanced than humans. Moreover, the combined number of all jet fighters on Earth was less than twenty-five thousand. The aliens had appeared so close to Earth that the armed forces had no time to form a strategic plan. Still, all over the world, every military unit with air-to-air or ground-to-air capabilities was getting ready to defend Earth.
Someone hopefully suggested, “Maybe they are peaceful?” which produced a few bitter snickers from the other officers.
No sentient species is peaceful, Zheng thought as the enemy fleet started shooting down the satellites orbiting Earth. The universe, the earth, a village, a family—all the same. The strong one takes the prize. Once that had been him. He’d beaten his brother, other boys, other men, generals, that idiot Von der Hagen. Now some jacked-up reptile or walking slime had come to town,
“There goes GPS,” Zheng murmured, trying to hide his terror.
“A few months ago, a bunch of Resistance fighters escaped in a spaceship,” said a general. “Then Jim Harrison attacked our forces in an advanced and untraceable fighter, and now this happens. There must be a connection.”
“Are you seriously suggesting the Resistance called aliens for help?” Zheng snapped at him.
The first man answered, “With respect, General, do you have a better explanation?”
“If these are von der Hagen’s allies, I might as well eat my gun right now,” Zheng whispered to himself.
As soon as the alien fleet reached the effective missile range of the air force fighters, a lieutenant announced, “Missiles away.”
The fighter jets shot thousands of air-to-air BVR missiles at the enemy fleet. Zheng and his generals watched despairingly as the spaceships either destroyed or dodged the air force’s most advanced missiles with such ease it was humiliating. Zheng covered his eyes with a hand. The mood in the Operation Room got even darker. Some of the generals panicked and started shouting at each other.
I guess I’m not the biggest shark in these waters anymore. Welcome to the bottom of the food chain, thought Zhang. Beads of sweat ran down his face. He gaped at various screens showing the battle and wondered if there was anything he could do to save humanity.
Winterfell - 11.50 EST
Watching the Xortaag fleet on a holographic display, Tarq felt a sense of déjà vu.
“This is just like Alora again,” he told Brook.
The Command Center’s door opened. Keiko and Sergey walked in. Keiko asked, “Would you mind if we join you?”
Tarq gestured towards the empty seats. “Not at all. Bring popcorn and let’s enjoy the show.”
Keiko gave him a sour look. “You’d better leave the comedy to Jim.”
They watched in silence as the air force jet fighters and the Deathbringers joined in battle. The Xortaag vessels opened fire with energy weapons. The biggest air battle in history ensued, with thousands of fighters involved in close-range dogfights, shooting missiles, cannon shells and energy beams at each other, filling the sky with brilliant explosions and shining pieces of metal. Hundreds of fighter jet pilots were incinerated in their cockpits, nothing left of their bodies. The air force had no chance of beating the enemy. The Deathbringers were much faster and more maneuverable, and their energy weapons were a lot more effective. The air force started losing jet fighters by the dozens. Out of pure desperation, some pilots tried to ram their fighters into the spaceships, but that didn’t work either.
Soon after, the enemy fighters started flying at low altitude and targeting the ground-based air defense systems. The anti-aircraft weapons’ crew fired millions of missiles and shells, lighting up the sky. Like the jet fighters, they had very little success, but it didn’t stop them from trying. The Deathbringers massacred them by the thousands, adding to the rapidly growing list of human casualties.
Despite having predicted this exact outcome, Tarq’s pulse raced, and violent tremors overcame his hands and fingers. Feeling his legs were too weak to support his weight, he grabbed a chair and sat down.
This is what will happen to Kanoor if I fail here.
The Xortaags were finally here, and I still had a hard time wrapping my mind around it. I half expected this to be yet another one of Tarq’s practical jokes. His people were all pranksters, so who was to say they wouldn’t send their entire fleet just to scare us to death and laugh about it later?
While flying to New York to pick up Kurt, Allen and some new people, I monitored communications between Earth forces and their command center—nothing as insignificant as military-grade encryption could stand in the way of Akaki technology—and followed the brutal battle raging all over the planet, involving thousands of jet/space fighters.
So it was real, after all.
It hit me like a fifty-megaton nuclear missile. I experienced an adrenaline rush greater by far than anything I’d felt before, even though as a fighter pilot I lived on adrenaline. This was what I’d trained for. After months of preparation, it was go time. I wasn’t afraid. I was focused.
On our way back to Winterfell I noticed a group of five F-46 jet fighters flying close to us. I intercepted their com and listened in to see what was going on.
Much to my surprise, two of them were my old buddies: Major Josef Hernandez and Captain John Taylor. We flew together during the war, and John and I’d chased women together—Josef was married—on more than one occasion.
From what I could put together, they’d engaged the Xortaag fleet a short while ago. They very soon realized what I knew already: BVR missiles were completely useless. The only chance they had was engaging the enemy at close range, which was a tall order given how fast the Deathbringers were and how effectively their laser weapons could fire. Between them, they’d managed to shoot down a grand total of two enemy vessels, but from twenty-four F-46 jet fighters in their unit, only these five were left, and they were winchester. Still, they had done better than some other squadrons which were completely wiped out. Now they were on their way back to their base to reload and get back to the fight, even though it was clear they had no chance of winning this battle.
My heart swelled with pride. Despite overwhelming odds, these guys weren’t running away from the fight. They were bruised and bloodied, but not defeated. What they lacked in technology, they made up for with heart. My kind of people.
Five Deathbringers showed up on the edge of my radar screen, movi
ng fast towards the F-46s.
I could feel the blood drain from my face. My instinct was to rush to my friends’ help, but our whole strategy was based on secrecy. If the Xortaags found out about us so early, the results could be catastrophic, for all humanity. I couldn’t endanger everyone to save five lives. But there was one thing I could do.
I shouted into my mike, “You’ve got hostiles on your six! Evade! Evade!”
The Deathbringers, just like our own Vipers, were invisible to F-46’s low-tech radar unless the pilots knew exactly where to look. Josef cursed and frantically ordered his remaining pilots to scatter and try to evade. I knew it was a lost cause. Even with ammunition, they wouldn’t have stood a chance.
Elizabeth’s voice spoke in my headphones. “What’re we waiting for?”
“What?” I said.
“There’s five of them and ten of us. Let’s go kill the sons of bitches.”
I really didn’t need this right now. “Out of the question,” I said. “Even if we could do this before any more Deathbringers show up, all it takes is for one of them to send a message out, and our existence will be revealed. Stay put.”
“We can jam their communications,” she countered.
Feeling an urge to rub my temples, which was impossible because they were under my flight helmet, I said, “We can, but there’s no guarantee we’d be completely successful. Stay put.”
She didn’t answer for an agonizing moment, then said, “I’m going in. You guys are free to follow me or not.”
