The Fusion of Fire- Part 3
Chapter 8
As told by the War Council Leader, John "Condor" Leeroy
I walked cautiously out the hatch, looking around at the barren Earth. No sign of life. Visual anyway. Damn. Not even the hardiest of mammals could possibly live here for long, and a gut feeling told me that no insects were here for reasons I don't have a clue as to why. No sign of structural creations or any cities or any-. Hold on. Wait a second.
"Amazon, could you tell me what you see there?" I asked rather stupidly while pointing towards a collection of feebily constructed tents and what seemed like houses made out of cardboard.
"A small encampment of tent-like structures and houses. Why? Oh, mirrage. Hopefully, at any rate," Amazon said. She was right. I thought it was a mirrage. The air almost told you that there could not be any being living here, but there had to be. Infested ones, probably, but one of the reasons why we were sent down here was to free some hosts using temporal statis fields to fight with us.
Incinerator soon came out of the TDS-1 with an electronic gizmo beeping rapidly and evidently flashed periodically. Him and his gizmos. How I wished I could stomp on every one of them. But then again, he had saved my life at the Swamps of Joiren, and I couldn't morrally get angry at him.
"What's up, Incinerator?" I asked casually, turning my head back towards the barren tent encampment.
The answer didn't come from him immidiatly. I turned around to see him almost ecstatic with glee while staring at his device intently. What the heck?
"What?" I asked again.
"You'd be happy to know, councillor," Incinerator began with that friendly mock-serious voice we always used with each other, "that some of our old, shall we say, aquantinces inhabit those dwellings." He started a muffled laugh, but then took it back.
"Huh?" I asked, mystified.
"Remember the One? The Animorphs made the transfusion, they said."
"What? Whoa, jeez, they're here?"
"Yessir, Mr. Councillor sir. They are here, sir. How would you like your steak done, sir? Medium or rare, sir? I, sir, would prefer the medium, sir, but it's all up to you sir."
"Shut up."
"OK, sir. Will do, sir. About your order, sir? Or would you, Mr. Councillor sir, rather sit around and do nothing, sir?"
"SHUT UP!"
"Yessir."
"ARRGGGHHH!!"
"Wait, shut up, you guys, look!" Amazon said.
I turned quickly around to see whateer Amazon wanted us to see. It was them, so the annoyingly intelligent "friend" was right. Although the last time I had ever seen them they were kids, it was a different story now. When the One fused the timelines, they must have somehow accelerated the speed in their timeline so they could become a whole lot older in half the time. Not anymore where they teenagers, but adults, and I kept telling myself that I should treat them that way. Flanking them came Aximili, standing far prouder and far taller than ever before, and twin humans, maybe in their late teens, came walking out. So, the One was right. They had added numbers to their ranks.
I started walking forward having my hand in here belt just incase it was a trick. Which I doubted, but just in case. Oh yea, I also charged my picket grenades. You might think now that I hav become a paranoid freak. I have.
"Condor! Amazon! Incinerator!" I heard the familiar voice of Marco call out to us as I rapidly drew my chaingun. Realizing that the voice had come from the people I was moving to, I just as quickly holsted the chaingun.
"Hey! Long time no see, eh?" I called back.
"No kidding. Listen, Condor, we gotta talk about some things."
"You took the words right out of my mouth, Marco. Come on over and we'll explain everything."
****************************
As told by the F/y 50 pilot, Quinton "Spilcer" Wheeler
"Enigma, I sure hope that you can hear this," I breathed, quickly sending a SOS beam in his direction. Primitive? Yes. Crude? Yes. But thank god that it was guarenteed to hit the intended target anyway it could. That's right. AI in radio waves. What will those blasted engineers think of next.
The bug fighters accelerated far quicker than I anticipated, which lead to a frantic punching of emergency buttons on my part all over the cockpit. Back-up cell B, on, twin MMU packs, set, heat shields, check, what the hell is G59A0016 Genome? Forget it, engage. 6 pack of holics? After the party's over. Yea.
Fourtunatly for me, in my frantic pushing of buttons, I accidently re-routed the proton-slicing energy of the quantum chambers back to the engines. Along with the fission power that I left on, the acceleration away from the bug fighters would be enormous. Almost as fast as half sublight. And that was fast.
"Bearing two-zero-five," I said to myself, trying to keep concentrated. The OBVP and the infared sense were to wear off soon, so I had to keep focused on the present. Taking the throttle, I banked slowly to the open space to the left of the oncoming squadron, nearly in dogfighting range. Good. Now, come closer, my dears, and you shall feel the rath of the human rebirth! Or at least Theta 2.
The trick in this maneuver was to shoot past the bug fighters as quickly as possible, and at the last moment fire the nukes straight at the formation of the squadron. The reason why I couldn't fire the nukes from my platform was that the OBVP wouldn't have enough time to kick in, the AI targeting sucked and they could just as easily evade the missiles. If I could get as close to them as possible and then fire the missiles, then it should work, provided that I travel fast enough to evade their dracon cannons. And I would, with the quantum AND fission power. Hopefully, anyway.
Wait, they are still coming, I told myself. The bug fighters were now in range of their cannons, but something, or someone somehow prevented them from firing. Bless them, or that. Just enough time to punch the ignition for launch. This is when Theta trives best. Let's put the pedal to the metal, people. Yes!
ZZZOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!! The combined power almost literally ignited my engines into a smoldering pile of metal slag, burning under the extreme acceleration pressures. My body wast thrust back into my seat as the g-forces within seconds turned from 0 to 8 in less than a second. A normal pilot might even break a rib from that experience. But I was a Theta, not a normal pilot.
Reflexivly, I launched the fusion missiles at the squadron the instant after I pressed launch, and two projectiles quickly jutted out from my missile bay. The sub-nuclear explosion was instant as well. Lemme ask you a question, have you ever been near ground zero of a subatomic detonation? I didn't think so. The meaning of exhileration is defined right then and there, before your very eyes. A sudden burst of revalation sears through your body, like a jolt sent from heaven. You are insignifigent during that one moment, and the unending wrath of god has seemed to fall upon you.
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" I screamed, bursting through a wall of eternal flame that surrounded me. The inferno enveloped around my F/y so quickly that the outer hull was already starting to melt into goo, and the puny heat shield had already failed me. All I could see was the heat of a thousand volcanoes erupting at once taking over me and my doomed fighter. The power of the sun was exploding around me. The message of undeniable power had been sent down towards my puny craft. A tital wave of It was hopeless. I knew it was over. I had become a martyr. A symbol of freedom. A symbol of peace. Let everyone know that I died for my people. Please. Just let them know of what I fought against..........
My last image was of the computer transmitting my brainwave analysis to be read by the War Council Officials. (WCO's) Then, when everything seemed to fuse itself with the chaos of the inferno, my mind hazed, and everything turned black.
[Lockheed F/y 50a Pilot Quinton "Splicer" Wheeler of Jupiter's moon Io, Theta Squadron 2, dead. Last brainwaves read as so: Let everyone know that I died for my people. Please. Just let them know of what I fought against..........]
Chapter 9
As told by the President of the Human Civilization, Peter Quin
Alpha Squadron Lead, Elation
"Whoa, got something here, Alpha squad," I said, looking in horror at the gieger counter that instantly went off the charts. Which was very hard to do.
"No kidding, near the Theta grounds, Mr. President. Contact Theta Lead," Alpha 2 told me.
Following the true Alpha lead's advice, I switched bio-mic frequencies for the head of Theta squadron. "Theta Lead, this is Alpha Lead, we have our sensors projecting what seems like a nuclear detonation. Can we have conformation of that?"
There was a pause before anybody relayed a message back to me. "You are right in saying that. We're sure that Theta 2 detonated the projectiles, any we can't get word of him. However," Theta Lead increased his voice proudly, "we can be sure that all bug fighters have been destroyed. A super squadron of 65 were gathering around bladeship 7 and 8, and he destroyed them in the explosion."
"It seems like Theta's aren't the kamakazi type, Theta Lead," I commented.
"Um, yessir. But there has been no conformation of 2's death yet, so you, um, can't quite call it a suicide. Yet."
"Whatever, Theta Lead. Alpha Lead out," I said, switching back my bio-mic frequency to Alpha squadron and decreasing throttle, knowing that most of the bug fighter threat had been qiped out by a suicidal Theta. Most of it, anyway.
"Lead, 2 squadrons o' boogies, bearing five-zero-niner. Musta launched from blade ship 9, Mr. President," Alpha 6 radioed in. Damn! I knew it was too good to be true. You can count on my to always jump to conclusions on all subjects, and that's not what one looks for in a good leader.
"Alpha team, we need to get this done hard and fast. Re-route all quantum and most backup fission engine power to chaingun and engage enemy by flanking maneuver. Keep shields at standerd power, and if you must, keep fission on engines. Let's bag these suckers, oh, and by the way, if we get into trouble, a B-204 should be nearby. We will emerge victorious, I can gaurantee you that, Alphas," I ordered.
"Roger that lead, we are good to go. Systems up and running on changes, permission to attack, sir?"
I followed my instructions carefully to make sure that the odd plan would work. Good. Super chaingun fire would easily blast through the comparitivly light hulls of the bug fighters, and no matter how quickly they evade our shots, we can simply go target sickness and hit them with OBVP. Easy.
"Permission granted. 2 targets for each ship are to be acquired. GO!" I ordered, getting two targets up on my viewscreen. Two, plump targets ready to get pumped full of shaft. MY shaft. The red and green triangles appeared over the slow-moving craft, and it seemed like the perfect shot.
I took my hand onto the control stick and hovered my finger over the fireing button. No, not yet. The shots would probably miss. And that wasn't good. I had to get each in one round, and in round only. No more. Come on, closer, closer! Yes, now it's good. Perfect. You die tonight, yeerks.
Tsewsewsewsewsewsewsew! Tsewsewsewsewsewsewsew! Two laser needles came racing through the particle acceleration chamber and out the front of my newly polished F/y 50a spacecraft. The lasers seemed to travel nearly at the speed of light, and in an instant, my target vaporized in a mass of smoldering vapors from the accelerated protons that my chaingun had caused. In another moment, there was nothing more. Yes! A hit, the first in about 10 years! You don't know how good it feels to score a kill until you do it.
This was going to be easy. I mean, come on, these are the species that took over nearly the entire known galaxy, am I correct? They should at least learn to create decent fighter for practical purposes. I mean, come on. You think of conquering races as far more technologically advanced in the ways of war.
Well, I was wrong about the part of "a fighter for practical purposes". No, the true ways of an out-gunned bug fighter are comepletly annoying, and deadly. The ways of suicidal and homcidal freaks with a vengence. The ways of the samurai warrior in Japan. The ways of my Col proffesser Mr. Teather (whoops, not supposed to reveal that). The one and only, the kamakazi.
***************************
As told by the War Council Leader, John "Condor" Leeroy
We had told them everything they needed to know withing almost 5 minutes. A miracle in that. About the fusion, the comeback, everything. They had too. They talked about how they somehow made their way to another world unlike their own in which the yeerks had taken over. They had never found a way to get back to their own home, and to survive long enough for help, they started a vast recruiting spree of resistence soldiers. All very intrigueing. All working to our indefinite advantage.
You see, the Animorphs had one goal. To go back to their own timeline to be kids again and fight the yeerks with knowledge of their strengths and weaknesses. Since humans were the only race with contact with the One, they could probably send the Animorphs back after they helped us fight off the yeerks and reclaim Earth. Either that, or try and give the Ellimist a buzz. Both work fine. But then again, I think that the Animorphs had already tried him, so it didn't work right.
The biggest new asset to us, however, is the resistence itself. I only thought before that the Animorphs had increased their numbers by 2 or 3, but I later learned that they created a huge underground system of networks that led to spy operatives and sabatoge operatives all across the work. MagLevs, I think they called them, were their main mode of transport. To this day, the human race hasn't found a faster mode of ground transport than the supersonic speeds of a MagLev bullet train on full throttle.
The resistence all over the globe could quickly come back to the headquarters, which I was told to be right undernieth my feet, and strike at the exact same instant as the SS's, GT's (Ground troops) and the AT's did. Even though the resistence had absolutley no weapons to base their assault with, they still had the morphing power (most of them) and could strike from anywhere at once with very powerful force. Which was a benefit because only the commando squads and Elite SS's could be granted genetical-forfieting power, and only about 5 of them were coming down on the strike.
"Marco, could you draw me up plans for any modified weapons in your arsenal?" Incinerator asked.
"Why's that?"
"Proofing them, and for another reason. Amazon?"
"Yes, well, it's quite simple. You know that with the escafil-style morphing that anything but skin-tight appearl goes to shreds, am I correct?"
"What's your point?" Tobias snapped somewhat angrilly.
"Incinerator is going to re-construct your weapons to fit my blueprints of a matter-edation X-dimensional transcript. You see, the biological changes must occur without the weapon to be replaced by excess matter, which would cause the weapon to be destroyed or lost. Instead, Incinerator and I will program your projectiles to sense through super-optical imagry of any genetical occurences on the body in which it rests on. The instant that happens, an ectodermic anti-plasma will cover it as it fades into anti-matter. When the being reconstructs it's native DNA, the projectile launcher should resume it's last position," Amazon said.
"In English, we can morph w/guns," Marco translated.
"How soon?" I asked.
"If we can see any prototype right now? We'll have them done within the evening."
"Good. Now, on to the attack. Before we land any troops, we need to know what kind of forces you control," I said.
The new late-teen that they introduced to me as Greg Skieth leaned over a crudely built terminal, "Well, sir, it looks like total of 349 total operatives," he reported staring over the terminal.
I thought about this. Jake had said something about spies, which wern't going to be that useful in straight battle, nor sabatoge, but might supplement the GT's perfectly. "Distribution?"
A confused look came across his face. "What do you mean, sir?"
"What troops can fill a certain position?" I asked patiently.
He leaned over the terminal once more. "We currently have, according to this, 23 spies, 105 sabatoge units, 13 data hackers, and 208 standerd soldiers."
"Hmmm, and what do you mean by standerd? What are their qualities that you need in them?"
Jake butted in, "Condor, we taught every one of our standerd troops after the way the ROTR fought. Guerrilla warfare mostly, but we also train in ways of deception. Our groups have mostly low, boggy condition training due to state of most of the planet."
"Good!" I cried out. "Perfect. And thank you, Jake. We need to know quickly what are the marshiest places one Earth that have important urban facilities?"
A smile crossed Jake's face. "Joiren again, eh? Turns out it is. For some strange and bizzare reason, the yeerks have habited northern Norway and for some bizzare universal anomoly, there has been named a place called Joiren with a gigantic resource mine within it. A mining city has developed there, and that is where we base our raids, but not many signs of action have been presented before us. Until now."
I smiled too, with the same malicious smile that Jake, Incinerator, Amazon and I had. "Boys, these party is going to the swamps."
A/N: Every time I type something about the notorious Swamps at Joiren, I get an annoying large feeling of deja vu. Strange. Very strange. So strange that I can't stop writing about guerrilla warfare in swamps. Ahhhhh! Anyway, please review, coming up next is the landing of the troops, and several more characters are (re-)introduced.
Chapter 8
As told by the War Council Leader, John "Condor" Leeroy
I walked cautiously out the hatch, looking around at the barren Earth. No sign of life. Visual anyway. Damn. Not even the hardiest of mammals could possibly live here for long, and a gut feeling told me that no insects were here for reasons I don't have a clue as to why. No sign of structural creations or any cities or any-. Hold on. Wait a second.
"Amazon, could you tell me what you see there?" I asked rather stupidly while pointing towards a collection of feebily constructed tents and what seemed like houses made out of cardboard.
"A small encampment of tent-like structures and houses. Why? Oh, mirrage. Hopefully, at any rate," Amazon said. She was right. I thought it was a mirrage. The air almost told you that there could not be any being living here, but there had to be. Infested ones, probably, but one of the reasons why we were sent down here was to free some hosts using temporal statis fields to fight with us.
Incinerator soon came out of the TDS-1 with an electronic gizmo beeping rapidly and evidently flashed periodically. Him and his gizmos. How I wished I could stomp on every one of them. But then again, he had saved my life at the Swamps of Joiren, and I couldn't morrally get angry at him.
"What's up, Incinerator?" I asked casually, turning my head back towards the barren tent encampment.
The answer didn't come from him immidiatly. I turned around to see him almost ecstatic with glee while staring at his device intently. What the heck?
"What?" I asked again.
"You'd be happy to know, councillor," Incinerator began with that friendly mock-serious voice we always used with each other, "that some of our old, shall we say, aquantinces inhabit those dwellings." He started a muffled laugh, but then took it back.
"Huh?" I asked, mystified.
"Remember the One? The Animorphs made the transfusion, they said."
"What? Whoa, jeez, they're here?"
"Yessir, Mr. Councillor sir. They are here, sir. How would you like your steak done, sir? Medium or rare, sir? I, sir, would prefer the medium, sir, but it's all up to you sir."
"Shut up."
"OK, sir. Will do, sir. About your order, sir? Or would you, Mr. Councillor sir, rather sit around and do nothing, sir?"
"SHUT UP!"
"Yessir."
"ARRGGGHHH!!"
"Wait, shut up, you guys, look!" Amazon said.
I turned quickly around to see whateer Amazon wanted us to see. It was them, so the annoyingly intelligent "friend" was right. Although the last time I had ever seen them they were kids, it was a different story now. When the One fused the timelines, they must have somehow accelerated the speed in their timeline so they could become a whole lot older in half the time. Not anymore where they teenagers, but adults, and I kept telling myself that I should treat them that way. Flanking them came Aximili, standing far prouder and far taller than ever before, and twin humans, maybe in their late teens, came walking out. So, the One was right. They had added numbers to their ranks.
I started walking forward having my hand in here belt just incase it was a trick. Which I doubted, but just in case. Oh yea, I also charged my picket grenades. You might think now that I hav become a paranoid freak. I have.
"Condor! Amazon! Incinerator!" I heard the familiar voice of Marco call out to us as I rapidly drew my chaingun. Realizing that the voice had come from the people I was moving to, I just as quickly holsted the chaingun.
"Hey! Long time no see, eh?" I called back.
"No kidding. Listen, Condor, we gotta talk about some things."
"You took the words right out of my mouth, Marco. Come on over and we'll explain everything."
****************************
As told by the F/y 50 pilot, Quinton "Spilcer" Wheeler
"Enigma, I sure hope that you can hear this," I breathed, quickly sending a SOS beam in his direction. Primitive? Yes. Crude? Yes. But thank god that it was guarenteed to hit the intended target anyway it could. That's right. AI in radio waves. What will those blasted engineers think of next.
The bug fighters accelerated far quicker than I anticipated, which lead to a frantic punching of emergency buttons on my part all over the cockpit. Back-up cell B, on, twin MMU packs, set, heat shields, check, what the hell is G59A0016 Genome? Forget it, engage. 6 pack of holics? After the party's over. Yea.
Fourtunatly for me, in my frantic pushing of buttons, I accidently re-routed the proton-slicing energy of the quantum chambers back to the engines. Along with the fission power that I left on, the acceleration away from the bug fighters would be enormous. Almost as fast as half sublight. And that was fast.
"Bearing two-zero-five," I said to myself, trying to keep concentrated. The OBVP and the infared sense were to wear off soon, so I had to keep focused on the present. Taking the throttle, I banked slowly to the open space to the left of the oncoming squadron, nearly in dogfighting range. Good. Now, come closer, my dears, and you shall feel the rath of the human rebirth! Or at least Theta 2.
The trick in this maneuver was to shoot past the bug fighters as quickly as possible, and at the last moment fire the nukes straight at the formation of the squadron. The reason why I couldn't fire the nukes from my platform was that the OBVP wouldn't have enough time to kick in, the AI targeting sucked and they could just as easily evade the missiles. If I could get as close to them as possible and then fire the missiles, then it should work, provided that I travel fast enough to evade their dracon cannons. And I would, with the quantum AND fission power. Hopefully, anyway.
Wait, they are still coming, I told myself. The bug fighters were now in range of their cannons, but something, or someone somehow prevented them from firing. Bless them, or that. Just enough time to punch the ignition for launch. This is when Theta trives best. Let's put the pedal to the metal, people. Yes!
ZZZOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!! The combined power almost literally ignited my engines into a smoldering pile of metal slag, burning under the extreme acceleration pressures. My body wast thrust back into my seat as the g-forces within seconds turned from 0 to 8 in less than a second. A normal pilot might even break a rib from that experience. But I was a Theta, not a normal pilot.
Reflexivly, I launched the fusion missiles at the squadron the instant after I pressed launch, and two projectiles quickly jutted out from my missile bay. The sub-nuclear explosion was instant as well. Lemme ask you a question, have you ever been near ground zero of a subatomic detonation? I didn't think so. The meaning of exhileration is defined right then and there, before your very eyes. A sudden burst of revalation sears through your body, like a jolt sent from heaven. You are insignifigent during that one moment, and the unending wrath of god has seemed to fall upon you.
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" I screamed, bursting through a wall of eternal flame that surrounded me. The inferno enveloped around my F/y so quickly that the outer hull was already starting to melt into goo, and the puny heat shield had already failed me. All I could see was the heat of a thousand volcanoes erupting at once taking over me and my doomed fighter. The power of the sun was exploding around me. The message of undeniable power had been sent down towards my puny craft. A tital wave of It was hopeless. I knew it was over. I had become a martyr. A symbol of freedom. A symbol of peace. Let everyone know that I died for my people. Please. Just let them know of what I fought against..........
My last image was of the computer transmitting my brainwave analysis to be read by the War Council Officials. (WCO's) Then, when everything seemed to fuse itself with the chaos of the inferno, my mind hazed, and everything turned black.
[Lockheed F/y 50a Pilot Quinton "Splicer" Wheeler of Jupiter's moon Io, Theta Squadron 2, dead. Last brainwaves read as so: Let everyone know that I died for my people. Please. Just let them know of what I fought against..........]
Chapter 9
As told by the President of the Human Civilization, Peter Quin
Alpha Squadron Lead, Elation
"Whoa, got something here, Alpha squad," I said, looking in horror at the gieger counter that instantly went off the charts. Which was very hard to do.
"No kidding, near the Theta grounds, Mr. President. Contact Theta Lead," Alpha 2 told me.
Following the true Alpha lead's advice, I switched bio-mic frequencies for the head of Theta squadron. "Theta Lead, this is Alpha Lead, we have our sensors projecting what seems like a nuclear detonation. Can we have conformation of that?"
There was a pause before anybody relayed a message back to me. "You are right in saying that. We're sure that Theta 2 detonated the projectiles, any we can't get word of him. However," Theta Lead increased his voice proudly, "we can be sure that all bug fighters have been destroyed. A super squadron of 65 were gathering around bladeship 7 and 8, and he destroyed them in the explosion."
"It seems like Theta's aren't the kamakazi type, Theta Lead," I commented.
"Um, yessir. But there has been no conformation of 2's death yet, so you, um, can't quite call it a suicide. Yet."
"Whatever, Theta Lead. Alpha Lead out," I said, switching back my bio-mic frequency to Alpha squadron and decreasing throttle, knowing that most of the bug fighter threat had been qiped out by a suicidal Theta. Most of it, anyway.
"Lead, 2 squadrons o' boogies, bearing five-zero-niner. Musta launched from blade ship 9, Mr. President," Alpha 6 radioed in. Damn! I knew it was too good to be true. You can count on my to always jump to conclusions on all subjects, and that's not what one looks for in a good leader.
"Alpha team, we need to get this done hard and fast. Re-route all quantum and most backup fission engine power to chaingun and engage enemy by flanking maneuver. Keep shields at standerd power, and if you must, keep fission on engines. Let's bag these suckers, oh, and by the way, if we get into trouble, a B-204 should be nearby. We will emerge victorious, I can gaurantee you that, Alphas," I ordered.
"Roger that lead, we are good to go. Systems up and running on changes, permission to attack, sir?"
I followed my instructions carefully to make sure that the odd plan would work. Good. Super chaingun fire would easily blast through the comparitivly light hulls of the bug fighters, and no matter how quickly they evade our shots, we can simply go target sickness and hit them with OBVP. Easy.
"Permission granted. 2 targets for each ship are to be acquired. GO!" I ordered, getting two targets up on my viewscreen. Two, plump targets ready to get pumped full of shaft. MY shaft. The red and green triangles appeared over the slow-moving craft, and it seemed like the perfect shot.
I took my hand onto the control stick and hovered my finger over the fireing button. No, not yet. The shots would probably miss. And that wasn't good. I had to get each in one round, and in round only. No more. Come on, closer, closer! Yes, now it's good. Perfect. You die tonight, yeerks.
Tsewsewsewsewsewsewsew! Tsewsewsewsewsewsewsew! Two laser needles came racing through the particle acceleration chamber and out the front of my newly polished F/y 50a spacecraft. The lasers seemed to travel nearly at the speed of light, and in an instant, my target vaporized in a mass of smoldering vapors from the accelerated protons that my chaingun had caused. In another moment, there was nothing more. Yes! A hit, the first in about 10 years! You don't know how good it feels to score a kill until you do it.
This was going to be easy. I mean, come on, these are the species that took over nearly the entire known galaxy, am I correct? They should at least learn to create decent fighter for practical purposes. I mean, come on. You think of conquering races as far more technologically advanced in the ways of war.
Well, I was wrong about the part of "a fighter for practical purposes". No, the true ways of an out-gunned bug fighter are comepletly annoying, and deadly. The ways of suicidal and homcidal freaks with a vengence. The ways of the samurai warrior in Japan. The ways of my Col proffesser Mr. Teather (whoops, not supposed to reveal that). The one and only, the kamakazi.
***************************
As told by the War Council Leader, John "Condor" Leeroy
We had told them everything they needed to know withing almost 5 minutes. A miracle in that. About the fusion, the comeback, everything. They had too. They talked about how they somehow made their way to another world unlike their own in which the yeerks had taken over. They had never found a way to get back to their own home, and to survive long enough for help, they started a vast recruiting spree of resistence soldiers. All very intrigueing. All working to our indefinite advantage.
You see, the Animorphs had one goal. To go back to their own timeline to be kids again and fight the yeerks with knowledge of their strengths and weaknesses. Since humans were the only race with contact with the One, they could probably send the Animorphs back after they helped us fight off the yeerks and reclaim Earth. Either that, or try and give the Ellimist a buzz. Both work fine. But then again, I think that the Animorphs had already tried him, so it didn't work right.
The biggest new asset to us, however, is the resistence itself. I only thought before that the Animorphs had increased their numbers by 2 or 3, but I later learned that they created a huge underground system of networks that led to spy operatives and sabatoge operatives all across the work. MagLevs, I think they called them, were their main mode of transport. To this day, the human race hasn't found a faster mode of ground transport than the supersonic speeds of a MagLev bullet train on full throttle.
The resistence all over the globe could quickly come back to the headquarters, which I was told to be right undernieth my feet, and strike at the exact same instant as the SS's, GT's (Ground troops) and the AT's did. Even though the resistence had absolutley no weapons to base their assault with, they still had the morphing power (most of them) and could strike from anywhere at once with very powerful force. Which was a benefit because only the commando squads and Elite SS's could be granted genetical-forfieting power, and only about 5 of them were coming down on the strike.
"Marco, could you draw me up plans for any modified weapons in your arsenal?" Incinerator asked.
"Why's that?"
"Proofing them, and for another reason. Amazon?"
"Yes, well, it's quite simple. You know that with the escafil-style morphing that anything but skin-tight appearl goes to shreds, am I correct?"
"What's your point?" Tobias snapped somewhat angrilly.
"Incinerator is going to re-construct your weapons to fit my blueprints of a matter-edation X-dimensional transcript. You see, the biological changes must occur without the weapon to be replaced by excess matter, which would cause the weapon to be destroyed or lost. Instead, Incinerator and I will program your projectiles to sense through super-optical imagry of any genetical occurences on the body in which it rests on. The instant that happens, an ectodermic anti-plasma will cover it as it fades into anti-matter. When the being reconstructs it's native DNA, the projectile launcher should resume it's last position," Amazon said.
"In English, we can morph w/guns," Marco translated.
"How soon?" I asked.
"If we can see any prototype right now? We'll have them done within the evening."
"Good. Now, on to the attack. Before we land any troops, we need to know what kind of forces you control," I said.
The new late-teen that they introduced to me as Greg Skieth leaned over a crudely built terminal, "Well, sir, it looks like total of 349 total operatives," he reported staring over the terminal.
I thought about this. Jake had said something about spies, which wern't going to be that useful in straight battle, nor sabatoge, but might supplement the GT's perfectly. "Distribution?"
A confused look came across his face. "What do you mean, sir?"
"What troops can fill a certain position?" I asked patiently.
He leaned over the terminal once more. "We currently have, according to this, 23 spies, 105 sabatoge units, 13 data hackers, and 208 standerd soldiers."
"Hmmm, and what do you mean by standerd? What are their qualities that you need in them?"
Jake butted in, "Condor, we taught every one of our standerd troops after the way the ROTR fought. Guerrilla warfare mostly, but we also train in ways of deception. Our groups have mostly low, boggy condition training due to state of most of the planet."
"Good!" I cried out. "Perfect. And thank you, Jake. We need to know quickly what are the marshiest places one Earth that have important urban facilities?"
A smile crossed Jake's face. "Joiren again, eh? Turns out it is. For some strange and bizzare reason, the yeerks have habited northern Norway and for some bizzare universal anomoly, there has been named a place called Joiren with a gigantic resource mine within it. A mining city has developed there, and that is where we base our raids, but not many signs of action have been presented before us. Until now."
I smiled too, with the same malicious smile that Jake, Incinerator, Amazon and I had. "Boys, these party is going to the swamps."
A/N: Every time I type something about the notorious Swamps at Joiren, I get an annoying large feeling of deja vu. Strange. Very strange. So strange that I can't stop writing about guerrilla warfare in swamps. Ahhhhh! Anyway, please review, coming up next is the landing of the troops, and several more characters are (re-)introduced.