Chapter One
The Marine radio operator positioned himself behind the blackened and twisted frame of an HMMWV, plasma bolts striking the opposite end, scaring it with slag. He had his headset pressed tight to his ear as he yelled into the mic. "Any station, any station! This is Hammer One-Three in the clear, the Irkens hold everything east of I-95, my sector is going to fall within the hour. They're using electronic counter measures and jamming. We-" A light erupted somewhere behind him with a magnificent boom, the concussive shockwave sending him onto his gut with an oof. He scrambled to his feet and slammed his back to the destroyed vehicle, took a moment to catch his breath and started again, his voice shaky. "Forty percent company casualties, three combat outposts over run. Irkens tanks, battle mechs, and mechanized infantry in the perimeter. Our lines of communication are either jammed or compromised. We're out of options and attempting to conduct a tactical withdraw at the supplementary positions-"
"It's coming around! Everybody-"
Staff Sergeant Dib Membrane never finished his sentence. The Irken ND-II on the opposite end of the intersection did it for him.
Dib slammed onto his gut hard, sliding across the rain slick pavement as the office building less than fifty meters to his front erupted in a brilliant metallic explosion of blue electricity.
Shards of glass, concrete and twisted pieces of metal shot into the air and hailed down upon the blackened and twisted frames of HMMWVs and a pair of eight wheeled Stryker infantry combat vehicles, behind which Dibs squad had taken cover behind, what was left of it. A thick black cloud of smoke backlit by fire plumed across the intersection, driven by a strong wind.
With a sudden lurch, the eighty-ton battle tank rolled forward, 180mm rail system scanning the area menacingly, tracks grinding over bodies laying in the street- the tanks first victims- who'd been hit by the triple barrel heavy plasma cannon mounted to the top of the tank.
Dib wiped the sweat and tiny amount of blood from his eyes, cleared his throat and spoke through the mic as he pressed the headset to his ear.
"Hammer one-two, this is Viper, over?"
His voice had cracked. Calm down. They just had to get the hell out of there. That was it.
But their exfiltration had gone to hell. No VTOL to swoop in, land on the rooftop and whisk them to safety.
Nothing.
And that tank wasn't operating alone. The rest of that platoon had to be near by, with dismounted forces from the DMOV-3 infantry fighting vehicles parked outside the gate.
"Hammer one-two, this is Viper, over?"
Where was the rest of the twelve man team? They had been right behind him, and the Lieutenant had been holding up in that doorway, which was now empty.
Dib planted his palms firmly to the ground and pushed himself up to his feet, he then darted to the back of the burning hulk of a Mercedes SUV, and suddenly raised his rifle, about to fire-
When he realized the squad sized force running down the alleyway were friendlies, easy to mistake due to the lack of sun hiding behind the dark clouds.
Heavy Weapons Sergeant Arkady Murov had already shouldered the FGM-148 Javelin antitank missile they had recovered from one of the dead infantrymen and was moving toward the street, about to put himself in a crouched position to get a bead on the enemy tank.
Dib rushed toward Arkady; never breaking cover, saying in the Irken native language, "Don't miss."
The Sergeant answered in English. "Right. But forget about the Irken, save that for when we need it."
Dib and his colleagues were United States Marines, fighting for their planet an their species survival, they would not be taken prisoner, there would be no diplomatic negotiation for their release, especially if the race invading their planet was manufactured for nothing but killing.
Hurrying farther along the wall, Dib found the Detachment Commander, Lieutenant Thomas McLeod, and the Assistant Detachment Commander, Chief Warrant Officer 3 Rico Vargas, speaking softly, McLeod was working his index finger over his pocket PC. Next to them were the teams two cammo guys, and farther back were the two engineers and assistant weapons sergeant, M8A2 assault rifles aimed as they covered the end of the alley. One of the two combat medics was positioned at the near side.
Somewhere in the distance voices lifted. The Irken dismounted mechanized infantry were drawing closer. And the drizzle was getting heavier, promising a downpour, Irkens made it a habit of bathing in paste before launching missions.
"Hey, Dib," the Lieutenant grunted. "Heard you on the radio, but I was on the Shadowfire with higher."
McLeod, a rugged faced man with more then fifteen years of service, smiled broadly.
"We have to fall back another half klick. Our friends across the street have pushed too far forward, and our bird can't get in here. She's already found a secure spot to land behind a garage near the old municipal airport."
"Couldn't be easy, eh?"
"Dib, we're United States Marines, in the middle of a full blown warzone. Operational Detachment Alpha. The entire planet is at war. Damn. If you wanted easy, you should've-"
"My sister's in the Air Force."
"I was going to say the circus."
"We got one right here. What the hell happened? They were waiting for us."
McLeod and Vargas just shrugged.
Dib swore under his breath "Let's move."
As team Sergeant, Dib was responsible for the fighting men during combat situations, which freed up McLeod and Vargas to maintain close contact with their Company Commander and coordinate team movements within larger battle plans.
At the moment, Dib was all about giving one order: Run!
He called to the others out of the alley, just as Arkady announced his missile was locked, his eye pressed against the command units night vision sight. A heartbeat later, he fired.
The missile ripped away with a terrific 'whoosh' while a massive chute of fire extended from the missiles tail.
Like a star in the night, the missile streaked up into the dark mantle of clouds. Even as Arkady ditched the launcher and scrambled to his feet, the missile abruptly changed course, coming straight down in top attack mode. It struck the tanks heavy plasma cannon mounted to the top with a powerful explosion that shattered nearby windows and, in turn, tore into the ammo/battery compartments, creating several more explosions, white hot shrapnel fountaining from the wreckage as plasma bubbled off the sides, leaving heavy amounts of slag.
As more tongues of fire rose from the dead tank, Dib signaled the others on down the avenue, then stole a glance at his wrist mounted GPS. The Lieutenant had already programmed in their destination. All they had to do was hop over the debris and dead bodies, connect the dots and be on their way home.
If they wanted easy.
The two medics, Robbiard and Cook, were in charge of keeping the "package" in shape, said package being one Chieftain Major General Zim, the extra terrestrial in charge of the entire invasion on Earth, that and the Special Forces Commander of the Irken Main Intelligence Directorate.
According to intel intercepted by Air Forces first recon division, Zim works for the big guys themselves, Tallest Red and Purple, co-rulers of the mighty Irken Empire. After they had intercepted the intel, they tipped off the nearest combat operational unit, being Dibs, to abduct the good General, before he had the chance to flee the planet and return to either the large station orbiting the Earth or one of the various bases they had stationed on the Earths moon.
Moreover, the team had wrapped their package quite nicely. They had bound his wrists, taped his mouth, and placed a ballistic assault helmet with a full visor over his head. They needed that head. What he had in it could prove extremely valuable. They had also fitted him with a Dragon Skin armored vest composed of coin shaped silicon carbide ceramic. The pieces overlapped like fish scales to help dissipate a bullets kinetic energy, or stop plasma from burning though. They could have removed his PAK and downloaded his memory data, but they had not the technology to do so. Zim was far better protected then any man of the team and, of course, a lot more worth to the US Government than they were.
The sound of Irken PRV-225 directed energy weapons suddenly erupted behind them, rounds of violet plasma burrowed into the wall a meter behind Dib.
He wanted to scream for the others to run, but the incoming fire from behind was more than enough motivation.
They charged forward, McLeod and Vargas in the lead, the medics, Zim and the rest of them closely behind. Dib was pulling up the rear.
Dib raced to the next corner, dodged behind a wall, then rolled back and opened fire as Arkady arrived at his side, adding more suppressing fire as the spent 7.62mm shells ejected from his M249 squad automatic weapon.
Four Irken Elites accompanied by six Imperial Troopers were hustling across the road about a block away, rounds discharging as they cut loose another salvo.
Dib and Arkady fired a few more rounds, sending the Irkens into crouching positions; then Dib urged Arkady back, the Heavy Weapons Sergeant nodded and took off.
The wind picked up, finally bringing the rain, hard and heavy, in time with Dib's pulse.
Meanwhile, the rest of the team ducked into another alley, heading for the next street, and a glance from his GPS told Dib that the Lieutenant was taking a shortcut, probably getting word from Detachment Bravo. That Special Forces team was back at the tactical command post, monitoring their Blue Force tracking screens and informing the lieutenant that more troopers were starting to surround them.
Dib got on the radio "Hammer one-two, this is Viper."
"Go ahead, Viper."
"We have a squad in pursuit, maybe more coming, over."
"Roger, there are at least a few what appears to be Elites coming from the west and a light armored vehicle coming from the north."
"I figured. We'll break off and intercept the dismounts. Buy you a little time, over."
"Do it."
"On our way. Viper, out."
Arkady, who had been listening over the channel, slowed as Dib caught up with him. They continued up the street, toward a two story factory or warehouse.
As they reached the corner, they jumped down into a loading bay area, where collected rain water reached their knees.
Arkady swore, slipped, fell face forward and Dib seized his arm and dragged him upwards. They trudged forward, out of the puddle, toward where flashlights- three of them to be exact- shone across the street from an alleyway that divided another two factory buildings in half.
Dib tipped his head in that direction, and they sprinted off, able to reach the wall near the alley before the Irken Imperial Troopers emerged.
There they paused, and in the seconds it took to catch his breath, Dib tapped his GPS, zooming in on his location to see if they could circle around the alley and come in from the back side or simply try a frontal approach.
A male sounding voice speaking Irken, heavy and burred, menacing, echoed off the walls. The Irkens were right there.
Arkadys expression grew empathetic with the need for orders.
Dib motioned for Arkady to crouch down, then he whispered into his mic: "I've got the first one."
"Okay."
The trooper reached the end of the alleyway, and Dib already had his Blackhawk Caracara knife in hand, a black talon of steel that would cut silently and effortlessly through flesh.
The trooper came forward, waving his light-
Dib sprang on him, drawing the blade across the Irkens neck in a fluid motion, cupping his hand over it's mouth.
Even as the light green, semi-transparent blood gushed from the Irkens severed neck, Dib gave the trooper a second punch- the kill shot to the spinal cord. He grew limp and crumbled.
One of the troops called out to his buddy.
Arkadys eyes could not grow any bigger then they already were.
Dib nodded, and Arkady whirled forward, into the alley, just as the second trooper drew near-
Yet even Arkady at point blank range fired into the Irkens head, the third and final trooper fired before Dib could.
It all happened so fast that Dib didn't realize what happened until...
The two Imperial Troopers collapsed to the puddles...
Followed by Arkady.
"Aw,no... No, no,no."
A harsh pang struck Dib at his core as he rushed to his friend, dropped to his knees, eyes already burning.
Arkady had taken a bolt to the head. He was already gone.
Dib froze. In shock. No time now. Just nothing. Emptiness. And suddenly, he thought of the day he and Arkady had been sitting in the barracks together, hearing about the news that he never hoped to hear of. People always asked: Where were you when the invasion happened?
I was with my best friend Arkady.
Dib reached out, wanting to touch the mans cheek, when the Lieutenants voice boomed into his ear: "Viper, this is Hammer one-two. We're nearing the pickup zone, taking heavy fire, over!"
Dib just breathed.
"Viper, this is Hammer one-two, over!"
"Uh, Hammer one-two, this is Viper.
"Taking heavy fire!"
"Roger that, Hammer one-two. We got those other guys, but we lost Brick, over."
The Lieutenants tone shifted. He swore then said, "Just rally on us now!"
Watching Arkady dying right there in the street got under Dibs skin, that impenetrable Marine skin. And suddenly, he wasn't thirty-two years old anymore but about ten, propelled by utter fear as he raced down the alley, wiping the tears from his cheek.
He came out, glanced around, and began to hear the heavy whomping of the extraction VTOL craft. But it was accompanied by another sound, a whirling alarm like noise that droned on.
He was at full sprint alongside the parking garage now, the MV-22 Osprey just on the other side, the alarm growing louder; and as he rounded the corner, he saw what was happening: an Irken DMOV-3 was rolling up and blasting the team with a long range acoustical device. The sound was so loud you couldn't help but cover your ears as the enemy gunned you down.
They hadn't opened fire with their big guns yet cause they wanted their general back alive. But that didn't stop five or six dismounts from discharging selective rounds at the team, just as they reached the VTOLs loading ramp.
The crafts door gunners did what they could, cutting loose the .50 caliber M2HBs, but they couldn't concentrate with the sound blaring in their ears. No helmets or plugs could help them.
Dib wasn't sure if he had taken a round or not as he came in from on the other side of the bird and launched himself into the air, crashing into the bay, someone shrieking in agony as the VTOL tipped its twin propellers forward and suddenly took off, plasma bolts still peppering the fuselage.
The DMOV-3s crew fired wildly with their twin heavy plasma cannons mounted on the top, deciding they'd take the chance and bring the bird down. But the teams pilot descended quickly to the other side of the garage, out of the line of fire, then suddenly banked right, headed back east, keeping low, weaving between buildings, heading for the front lines, for United States Military held ground, for safety.
As he looked around the bay, out of breath and bleary eyed, Dib realized that only McLeod, Vargas, one medic and one engineer were onboard, along with Zim.
"Where's everyone else? Where are they?"
The Lieutenant shook his head as his eyes plastered themselves to the floor. The Lieutenant was shaking and broken.
Vargas and the medic were no longer moving, the engineer was clutching his leg, shot in femoral artery and bleeding all over the bay floor.
Just then, McLeod released the quick release straps of his MTV armor and let it thump to the floor, he then pulled his bloody and scorched ACUPAT jacket open, revealing a pair of dark holes. He wouldn't make it, and neither would the engineer.
"We need help!" Dib cried out to one of the door gunners.
The guy ignored him, tending to his own shoulder wound.
Gritting his teeth, Dib pulled himself over to the Irken, wrenched up the helmets visor, and grabbed him by the neck "Are you worth it, you bastard?"
The Irken stared up with his vacant ruby eyes.
Dib glanced back to the remains of his team, then glared at the General once more and screamed, "Are you worth it!?"
(End Chapter)