by Sean Robins
The Volvo started moving. Kurt grabbed an STG 666 and joined Sergei, Oksana, and Matias who were pouring fire on the Xortaags. He found Oksana and Matias perching next to each other, counting loudly every time each of them dropped a Xortaag. He looked at them and said, “Really?”
Oksana, something dark and primal flickering in the back of her eyes, answered, “We’re still short of seven hundred million!”
The trucks sped up, hurrying toward the fleet base exit, leaving a trail of death, hurt and mangled bodies covered in dark purple blood.
Xortaag’s small arm energy bolts hit the Volvo from all directions but caused little damage. His mouth set in a hard line, Kurt scanned the truck’s surroundings, forcing calm. He aimed at an enemy soldier shooting at the vehicle and pulled the trigger. The Xortaag’s face disappeared behind an explosion of blood. Kurt shot another one, and a third, and a fourth, using his STG 666 with such precision it could’ve been a sniper rifle. This carnage partially satisfied the need for revenge that had been gnawing at his soul since the fall of Earth. He told Oksana, “You’re right. Way short.”
Now it’s all up to you, Jim.
I was flying a gold Viper.
Tarq had some of our fighters painted in different colors. He explained to us that he believed in this stupid superstition that coloring senior officers’ space fighters differently would bring good luck, with gold showing the highest rank. Keiko’s fighter was dark green, and Liz’s—after her recent demotion, she was a major and third-in-command—was light blue. We had a few captains whose fighters were painted silver.
I was as excited as a teenage boy on his first date, and not with just any girl, with a girl he’d been secretly in love with for a long time. Unable to contain myself, I contacted Liz and said, “Today is a good day to die.”
Annoyance in her voice, she only said, “Seriously?”
I hurriedly tried to make up for my error. “I love you.”
“I know,” she said. Quoting Han Solo was her way of getting back at me for making inopportune jokes.
Tarq contacted me. “Jim, we have a problem. One of the laser turrets is still active.”
“Which one?”
“A-3.”
I consulted my PDD. It was good news that there was only one left. This meant Kurt’s mission had been mostly successful. I spoke over my mike. “A Squadron, you’re with me. Everyone else, proceed as planned.” I thought about adding something meaningful and inspirational on the verge of our first battle with the Xortaags, but all I could think of was, “Give them hell.”
What would I do without worn-out clichés?
I put my Viper in a sharp nosedive, followed by Liz, Keiko and the rest of the A Squadron. Behind us, a hundred Vipers fired their Phoenixes at the target. The laser turret came alive, shooting down all the missiles in quick succession. This gave us time to get closer and fire our own missiles. A Squadron veered off, with only Liz, Keiko and I pushing forward. Our missiles streaked towards the laser turret. It stopped the new threat with ease, but now I had it in my effective weapon range.
My heart racing, I firewalled the throttle and flew in, energy bolts flying from all three of my Viper’s cannons. The laser turret was hard to miss—it looked to be the size of a small mountain. My laser bolts impacted the turret. Flames erupted and smoke belched from the giant weapon. Its crew tracked me and started shooting. It fired thick bolts longer than my Viper in very rapid succession, but I wasn’t one of the best pilots on the planet for nothing. I swerved right in a sharp curve and kept avoiding its fire with evasive action. With each passing second, enemy fire was getting closer and closer to my Viper.
I was focused on not getting vaporized, but I had one eye on my display monitor, following Liz and Keiko’s space fighters. Keiko came in right after me, spewing out a stream of laser bolts, scoring several hits. She swerved left and, zigzagging between massive laser bolts, took the enemy’s fire and attention with her.
And Liz flew in on her heels, letting go of her Viper’s full weaponry.
The colossal weapon exploded in a red ball of fire, big enough to cover the whole turret.
Beside myself with exhilaration, I bellowed, “Yes! That’s my girl!”
“Why, Jim, I’m flattered, but you really aren’t my type,” answered Keiko.
Milan - 16:00 EST
Allen was crouching behind a tree, looking at the images on his through-the-wall surveillance device.
Since this was probably the only chance to mount a surprise attack against the Xortaags, Kurt and Allen had decided to use this opportunity to hit the Xortaag leadership. Maada lived in SH-2 and was out of reach, but Mushgaana lived in his private mansion, guarded by a small security force. This was where Allen and a strike force of thirty Commandos were right now. The plan was to capture Mushgaana alive if possible, assassinate him if not.
Allen’s second-in-command, Tanaka, the ex-leader of Japan’s Resistance, looked over his shoulder. “Is everything in order?”
“Looks like it,” answered Allen. “Around fifty servants and guards, as always. You see this room here with someone inside? This is Mushgaana’s office, so this should be him.”
“Let’s go then,” said Tanaka.
Allen put on his night vision goggles and trotted toward the mansion. Tanaka followed him. They jumped over the mansion’s wall and entered through its main entrance. Allen shot the three men in the first floor’s living room using his suppressed STG 666 and ran upstairs. The two guards stationed outside Mushgaana’s office were alerted by the noise from downstairs, and one of them was talking to his PDD. Allen shot them both in the head.
He opened the door of the office and cautiously peered inside. He was welcomed by a hot energy bolt hitting the door frame a couple of inches from his head, burning a black hole into the frame. He growled, “We don’t have time for this,” and sprayed the inside of the room with bullets. A man screamed in pain, and a body fell to the floor.
A minute later Allen and Tanaka were standing over a dead man in Mushgaana’s office. The man was tall, muscular and bald. “Well, this definitely isn’t him,” said Tanaka.
Allen heard another Commando’s nervous voice in his earpiece. “Colonel? We have a problem. Look outside the window.”
Allen approached one of the room’s big windows, and with a heavy feeling in his stomach, saw five Deathbringers hovering mid-air right outside, slightly higher than the mansion’s roof.
Allen’s mouth twitched. He told Tanaka, “This can’t possibly be good, eh?”
SH-2 - 16.30 EST
Maada ran to the other side of the control tower. In utter disbelief he saw both turrets destroyed, with the trucks speeding away, killing everyone in their path.
Trembling with uncontrollable anger, he contacted the officer in charge of the Quick Response Force and shouted, “Get the fighters in the air!”
A faint sound caught his attention. He looked up trying to find the source of the sound, and his mouth fell open when he saw hundreds of missiles racing toward the hangars and the Quick Response Force fighters’ revetment. The fighters were just beginning to get off the ground. If they had already been in the air, they could have easily avoided the incoming missiles, but they were sitting ducks now as they started their ascent. The missiles hit, and most Deathbringers in the Quick Response Force were annihilated by thunderous varicolored blasts before they got the chance to take off. Some of the hangars were also hit.
The worst was still to come.
Maada saw hundreds of triangular craft approaching the now defenseless air base at a low altitude.
Xortaag pilots were running towards the hangars that had survived the missile attack while the hangars’ rooftops were being retracted so slowly it was agonizing to watch. Maada knew it was too late. Savage desperation crept over him. The enemy space fighters were so close. Without the laser turrets, there was nothing between them and the hundreds of Deathbringers in the hangars.
There were some fifty men
and women on duty in the control tower. Maada turned to look at them. His despair was mirrored on their faces. He rubbed the scars on his face and made a decision that he knew would doom them all.
He softly said, “Join me.”
No one hesitated. They all rushed out and stood next to him on the balcony. “Draw your weapons and wait for my command,” said Maada.
The Xortaags followed his order.
The enemy craft opened fire on the hangars. Energy bolt after energy bolt landed, causing explosions that killed countless Xortaags and destroyed their space fighters. The ground shook beneath Maada. His ears pounding, he witnessed people under his command slaughtered, feeling utterly helpless. Some Xortaag soldiers were shooting from the ground, but the enemy pilots dispatched them with ease.
If I survive this, I will find and kill all these motherfuckers, vowed Maada.
The enemy fleet got closer to the tower, destroying everything in their path like an unstoppable hurricane.
It was fifty of them against a thousand space fighters. It was desperate. It was hopeless. It was suicidal.
It’s magnificent.
A young, beautiful woman to his left said, “General? It has been an honor, sir,” and performed a perfect salute. Everyone else followed suit.
Maada knew the woman, just like he knew all the other fighter pilots under his command. She was an off-duty Deathbringer pilot whose name was Arminaa. Maada wondered what she was doing in the control tower. His mouth curved into a sad smile. He returned the salute and aimed his weapon. “Target the silver craft in front.”
A minute later he shouted, “Fire!”
They all opened fire in unison, and with satisfaction, Maada saw thick smoke pouring from the silver fighter’s engine. The fighter started losing altitude.
“The one to its left,” ordered Maada. He took aim and fired his weapon.
Several enemy space fighters fired back.
The last thing Maada saw was a red and yellow explosion engulfing the control tower.
SH-2 - 16.50 EST
Josef couldn’t believe his bad luck.
He’d gone toe-to-toe with the Xortaag fleet during the invasion of Earth. Not only that, he was one of only a handful of humans alive who had shot down a Deathbringer. He’d done all that, just to get hit by ground fire during their first mission.
He told himself, “Aviate. Navigate. Communicate.”
He tried everything he could to save the space fighter, but all in vain. He contacted Winterfell. “I’m going down. I’ll parachute out in a second.”
“We are sending a Commando team to pick you up,” answered Tarq.
A few seconds later, he heard Jim’s voice. “Josef, take care of yourself. We’ll have a beer when this is done.”
Josef chuckled. “I don’t drink, but I’ll have one with you.”
“Welcome to Martin-Baker Fan Club,” Jim said.
A few minutes later, Josef parachuted from his Viper.
Milan - 15:30 EST
Mushgaana, sitting in his office, was pleased with himself. He was looking at a holographic map of Kingdom of God on his desk and evaluating their progress. The construction was ahead of schedule. Soon the first phase of their colonization would complete, and he would be off to a new conquest.
All of a sudden, he sensed a group of thirty humans moving towards his residence. What got his attention was that they were moving in close formation and were obviously trying to avoid attracting attention. He reached out for their minds and saw the intention to harm him.
This was impossible. These people should have thought of him as a god. Something had gone terribly wrong. Mushgaana tried to get control of the humans’ minds, but he failed. If he concentrated on each individual, he could sense their thoughts—rage and a desire for revenge, recognizable but subtly different from how a Xortaag would think—but he could not exert any control over them.
Time to think on your feet, he thought.
He ran out of his office. On his way out, he telepathically ordered one of his men to go to the room and sit behind his desk. He ran downstairs, opened a hidden door and entered a secret passage that led to a small underground military base right next to his residence. Nobody knew this place existed because Mushgaana had had it built in complete secrecy to protect himself from a possible attempt on his life by his brothers, or even worse, Maada staging a coup d’état. The general was too loyal and honorable to do such a thing, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. On the way, he contacted the commander of the base.
“We have got company,” said Mushgaana.
Milan - 16.14 EST
A screen on Mushgaana’s desk came to life. Allen and Tanaka heard a voice say, “You guys speak English?”
Allen approached the desk and found himself staring at the crown prince’s image on the screen. Mushgaana said, “You know who I am; you have obviously come here to kill me. The problem is I have no idea who you are, and since I am getting reports of a widespread attack against my people all over the planet, I am eager to get to know you. Can you make it easy on all of us and just surrender, or do we have to come in guns blazing?” He wiggled his index finger at the screen. “I am going to count to three. There will be no four.”
Allen wanted to say something snappy and shoot the screen, but something on Mushgaana’s desk caught his attention. This is interesting, he thought and leaned over to study what he had found on the desk more closely.
Mushgaana counted to three. When he saw no response, he said, “This is just awkward,” and the screen went blank.
“Can we call out?” Allen asked Tanaka.
“All communications are jammed,” Tanaka answered a few seconds later, “and even if we could call for help, there won’t be enough time for anyone to come.”
Allen said, “I wasn’t thinking about calling for help. Come have a look at this.”
I said, “Bandits at two o’clock low.”
On my display monitor, I could see nine enemy craft that had somehow survived the attack and managed to get off the ground flying away from the fleet base.
“Let’s go get them,” I added.
We followed the Deathbringers. The pursuit only lasted a few minutes. They noticed our fighters, did the math and turned around to meet us.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins, and my heart vibrated with anticipation. I’d been fangs out for a while.
Laser bolts bursting from all our cannons, we zoomed in and closed the distance. I caught a fighter in my targeting scope and fired. The enemy vessel vanished in a blinding explosion. I swung my golden Viper up and around in a sharp curve and found myself behind two Deathbringers. They flew away in different directions.
I had to make a split-second decision. I said, “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe” and followed the one to my left. The gomer threw his space fighter all over the sky to shake me. I lined up my shot and squeezed the trigger. The Deathbringer disintegrated under my continuous fire.
The second Deathbringer was making a sharp curve, trying to get on my six. It lashed out at me with its cannons. Laser bolts streaked past my fighter. I released four Sparrows that made an almost 180 turn and went after it. The gomer twisted and turned and managed to avoid all four, but now I was on top of their fighter. The Deathbringer went on a twisting dive. I followed and kept firing. It erupted in angry red flames.
Sierra Hotel!
I throttled back, pumped a fist and thundered in my mike, “Are you not entertained!”
Caroline said in my ears, “First time I watch you in action. Gotta admit you’re a lot more badass than what I’d thought.”
I looked at my monitor to see what was going on with Liz and Keiko. What I saw made my eyes bulge and beads of sweat appear on my face.
On my nine o’clock high, Liz was hot on a Deathbringer’s tail, spitting a deadly stream of laser bolts at the bandit. She was so focused on her target she didn’t see another enemy vessel sneaking in right behind her.
I shouted, “You
’ve got a bandit on your ass! Break right!”
Liz probably heard the urgency in my voice and immediately rolled right. The laser bolts fired by the Deathbringer on her six missed her by inches. I snapped my Viper’s nose into a hard-climbing turn and gave the gomer who had almost killed my wife all I’d got, laser cannons and missiles. I obliterated the Deathbringer and then shot a few more bolts into the wreckage to make sure.
I stayed motionless for a few seconds, allowing the relief to sink in. Liz broke to the left and gave chase to her original target. “You are welcome!” I said after her. No answer.
“I got four kills,” I announced.
With the tone of a teacher reproaching an overly enthusiastic student, Keiko said, “Jim, we are a team. This isn’t a competition,” and then she cheekily added, “At any rate, I got four too.”
Oh, for crying out loud!
SH-2 - 17.18 EST
Coughing, Maada regained consciousness. His lungs were full of smoke, and he felt he was about to suffocate. Half of his face, as well as his left arm and shoulder, were drenched in blood, but he managed to sit up and look around.
Most of the control tower had collapsed, and the rest was on fire. There were blood and body parts everywhere. Maada recognized the burned bodies of some of the people who were standing next to him on the balcony before the attack and barely managed not to throw up. He also saw Arminaa, lying on the floor, her chest moving with shallow breaths.
At least this one has survived.
He weakly stood up, leaned on the balcony railing and looked around.
The fleet base was destroyed. The hangars were burning, and it was obvious only a miracle could save a few of the Deathbringers inside. From where he was standing, he could see hundreds of dead bodies, and he had no doubt the actual number of casualties was far greater. He had never suffered such a comprehensive defeat in all his life. It caused more anguish for him than all his injuries.
