A/N:

I am EXTREMELY sorry for the egregious delay between updates, folks!

I do have an excuse- AHEM I MEAN Reason!

You see, I've been having Computer Problems, ranging from blackouts to simple unhitching batteries. (Thankfully these problems seem to be over: I've got a new machine.)

One of these blackouts occurred when I was working on chapter ten,and the damn file got corrupted, and I lost all my progress. Worse still, my backup was only up to date as of Chapter Two, meaning I'd essentially lost the entire story.

This seriously demoralized me, as several other documents had been corrupted thanks to this blackouts, and as if the Batarians themselves were trying to ruin my day, my notes on THW's plot were included.

So demoralized, in fact, that my muse for this story effectively hung itself. I'd made some progress, but it was extremely slow, and very few and far between.

But - and god bless you all - a lot of fans of the story came to me and asked if I'd abandoned it, or if something had happened. The sincerest of messages was one of the more recent, and it was what helped spark my muse. So I locked myself in my room, and poured gasoline on my Muse until it sparked a raging fire, and thus, got me back in the game.

In other words, The Hopeless War is still being fought, just bear with me.

Chapter 3:

June 14th, 2013

"All forces in the city of Atlanta, missile launches have been detected!" Shouted a voice over the radio, that, despite its relatively low volume, seemed to permeate louder than every gunshot, every callout, every dying cry in the battle zone. "If you can hear this, brace for impact!" The voice shouted.

Christopher McGraw heard it, and had a moment to look to the sky, where he saw several flaming objects hurtling towards the Earth, at speeds that seemed far too quick for their small sizes. Not a moment after it registered what had been launched, did the first object slam into the ground, and did the ground start shaking. The shockwave was powerful, and as the several missiles slammed into the ground, and just before McGraw was propelled into the air, he couldn't help but wonder if they were American, or alien.

The silence just before the shockwave propelled forth, was immediately replaced by a deafening scream. McGraw tried in vain to hold on to the ground, going so far as to slam the butt of his gun into it, trying to use it as a shovel of sorts, to dig into the ground and stop him from moving. It didn't work, however, and he flew through the air, now without his rifle. He slammed into a stone pillar of the Capitol Building, and felt something pierce his abdomen. He had no time to think about it, because just a moment later, a Humvee, picked up by the shockwave, slammed into the pillar, and sent it toppling to the ground. McGraw tried to pry himself off of the pillar, but quickly found himself buried by rubble, and knocked unconscious by a wayward stone, slamming into his helmet.

"Impact detected, in downtown Atlanta!" Shouted a technician at the North American Aerospace Defense Command facility, in Colorado Springs, Colorado.

"Is it Nuclear?!" Demanded General Weston, one of the Commanders in charge of the facility.

"No sir, no radiation spikes detected." Declared another technician, "They originated from out of the atmosphere. It wouldn't be unwise to assume they came from the Invaders' vessels." She explained, that's what they'd been calling the aliens, 'Invaders', they'd never said what their species' collective names were, and it would be stupid to assume, given that they were clearly different peoples, so after one person had called them 'Invaders', it just stuck.

"So the Invaders are just shooting Earth?" Weston demanded.

"Yes sir… Looking over the reports, it looks like they decided that they'd have a better chance of winning the battle if they bombed the city, seeing as how their main source of air-power - the ship - was destroyed." She explained.

"Oh god…" Muttered Weston, as he rubbed his forehead in a mixture of frustration and sorrow. Just a few hours ago, all was well in the world, America was still up to its throat in debt, Europe was still silently chuckling at the less-than-three hundred year old nation's 'comeuppance', and he was sitting at NORAD drinking a coffee. Now, the US was at DEFCON 1, war was being declared world wide,Aliens were invading, and they'd just 'Clean Nuked' Atlanta. "What about their forces?" He asked, "Have they been killed too?"

"I don't think so, sir…" Said the technician, "I don't know what they did, but Satellite thermals are showing a lot of heat signatures emerging from the rubble… And unless Atlanta's been miraculously repopulated by the animal kingdom… They aren't Humans." She said.

"How did they do that?" Demanded Weston, "How did theirs survive the nuke, but not ours?"

"If I had to guess, sir?" Said another technician, "They must have a portable shield technology. Like their ships, but only personal."

"Like a Bubble Shield?" Shouted someone else.

"Ignoring the reference, yes."

"So they shielded themselves from the nuke, is what you're saying?" Said Weston.

"To say it's a 'Nuke' would be incorrect, but yes, that's what I'm saying."

Weston shook his head, and clenched the bridge of his nose. "Get the POTUS on the line…" He said, moving to his office, "We need an entirely different strategy." He muttered.

Aboard the USS John C. Stennis, the CIC was a buzz of activity.

America wasn't the only nation to be hit by the coalition of species, rapidly being called 'Invaders'; a worldwide invasion of every militarily powerful nation was being conducted. The Aliens seemed to have a rather enhanced knowledge of the Earth's military stance, because they were striking the ones who 'held the biggest sticks' with their most numerous forces, and the ones who had smaller 'sticks' weren't being hit as hard as the former, but still incomprehensibly tough. The President had been informed that the Invaders seemed to be focusing on the coasts of nations, in lieu of landing in the middle of their biggest city and beginning invasions, analysts had decided that this was to set up beachheads for invasions, which was smart, as it eliminated the possibility of the Invaders being surrounded on all sides by Human territory. So, with that in mind, the President was setting up for the most important of his admittedly numerous speeches.

The President gave himself one more sigh, before he was silently told that he was on air. Around him, were at least a dozen Secret Service Agents, several Marines, and many more politicians, all succeeding in making the room seem much more smaller. Behind him was the best 'backdrop' they could come up with in ten minutes: An American Flag. In front of him was a camera, a teleprompter, and a light fixture. The hand went down, and the camera started rolling.

"My fellow Americans…" He paused, "Humans." He stated, "Today, we've received the answer, to an age-old question… The age-old question: 'Are we alone?'… Today we've been told that that answer is a resounding 'No'… And today we've been told that, as well, we are not alone in war." He said, "As I speak, all across planet Earth, across our home, we are being invaded. Not from an enemy that came from this Earth, but rather from enemies beyond our shores. These Invaders came here, and told us, on no uncertain terms, that we are to lay down our arms and surrender to them." He paused, "We told them that we would never… And they responded with weapons."

He saw a naval officer enter the room, out of the view of the cameras, but didn't react, he continued reading from the teleprompter.

"So as of this moment, I, and I'm sure our allies overseas will agree to this - am declaring war upon the coalition of species that has invaded the Planet Earth, with the intentions of enslaving her children." He said, "I am instituting a draft, mandatory, for all males between the ages of eighteen and forty. For those that cannot go to war, or for those who are ineligible, we are instituting the War Economy. Our troops need weapons, vehicles, and ammunition, so we're going to give it to them." He said, "As well, any reserve forces are being called to active duty, and our Defense Condition has been placed to One." He added, being the first President to ever utter those words. "My friends… My people… The Invaders are going to fight us to the last man… We have to prove to them, that despite our faults, and in spite of our disadvantages, we will destroy any who attempt to harm our Earth, kill our people, endanger our race." He said, "God bless us… God bless the United States of America… And God bless the Humans of Earth." He finished, before the camera stopped.

The naval officer wasted not a moment in walking to the President, the latter almost immediately noticed the former's grim expression.

"What happened?" The President asked solemnly.

The officer shook his head, "They hit us harder than we could've predicted, sir. We just called our forces out. We've lost Atlanta."

"To all forces currently positioned in the city of Atlanta…" Said the solemn voice of the officer on the safe end of the radio, jarring the buried Ranger from his unconscious state. "The Invaders have launched a massive orbital strike against the city, and have reinforced their numbers. If you can hear this, the city of Atlanta is no longer to be considered American Territory, evacuate as soon as you possibly can, and regroup at your designated evacuation points."

Christopher McGraw opened his eyes, he was buried underneath the ruins of a fallen building, but above him to the left was the top of a Humvee, its roof open and ready to be crawled through. Chris attempted to move but was frozen when a jolt of pain shot through the left side of his abdomen. He lifted his head slowly, and looked himself over.

He was still in his uniform, but he could feel a warmness on his stomach that told him all he needed to know: He'd been injured, and if his light head was anything to go by, badly. Chris laid his head back on the ground, in a slight panic as he imagined the alien soldiers and infantry advancing on his position and looking for him.

With a groan, Chris reached over and switched on his radio, "… This… Ergh, this is Corporal McGraw, Dagger 2-1, anyone, who's out there?" He called, as he tried to find some way to move out of this tomb without killing himself.

"McGraw, keep your voice down!" That was Sanders, "We're evacuating, where are you?" He demanded.

"It's quiet, Sanders… What the hell happened, how long have I been out?"

"I'll tell you when we find you, we just dug up Allen, he's alright but we're running out of time! NORAD says we just got nuked, and the ET's bringing in the cavalry. Atlanta isn't American Territory anymore, we have to go!"Hastily explained the southern accented man.

"Alright… I'm stuck under some rubble. I can see an overturned humvee above me, but I can't move, I can feel something in my back."

"Damn it… Alright, is there anything else you can tell me?"

"I could fire my gun, or maybe pull a flash-bang, but that'd reveal my position."

"Hold that thought man, I can see a car." Silence for several moments, Chris heard the tinkle of dust and pebbles from inside the car above him. A moment later, three knocks from the vehicle. "Hear that?"

"Yes!" Shouted Chris.

Through the overturned military transport vehicle, ambled a United States Ranger, his uniform covered in hastily patted off layer of dust. Private Joe Sanders looked through the circular opening on the top of the vehicle, grimacing when he saw Chris' condition.

"Ah! Shit man, you look like… Shit." Said Sanders, as he looked around for a way to pull his comrade out of the rubble.

"You know how hard the Superpower'll fight for its territory." Chris chuckled.

"Alright, I think this is just a quick case, you can slip through this hole right here." Sanders patted the opening on the top of the Humvee, "gimme your hand." He extended his.

Chris clasped the Ranger's hand tightly, and as Sanders pulled him up, he pulled his arm down, generating both an upward and a downward force that, due to Sanders' greater pull, propelled McGraw onto his rear end, and his head and shoulders through the opening on the vehicle.

"Jesus, I'm going to have to get this looked at." Chris groaned, as he painfully followed Sanders through the vehicle.

"Need to wait for Whyte?"

"I'll be good. But when we get to the evac point, it'll have to be looked at." Chris didn't know how bad the injury was, but he didn't want to, not now.

When Chris and Sanders exited the vehicle, the veteran Special Forces soldier froze. The utter devastation he saw before him, the city that used to be Atlanta, the capitol of the United States State, Georgia, was simply gone. In an outward circle of utter destruction, dust, debris, and all kinds of rubble - from big enormous boulders, twisted metal, and glass shards, to the smallest pebbles and sheet-rock - covered the ground. Very few could say, when they visited an American city, they could see the horizon, the only way to do so would be to go to the outskirts and look far outward. But Chris was in Georgia's capitol building, it wasn't necessarily at the outskirts of the city, but it was far enough inward that it was difficult to see the horizon. But McGraw could, from his vantage point atop a hill of rubble, could see far beyond the outskirts of Atlanta, there were only a dozen or so buildings left standing, Chris could see the Bank of America building, the Centennial Tower, and the AT&T Midtown Center, amongst few others. Atlanta certainly wasn't Manhattan, but it was big, and to see that the aliens had gotten rid of almost all of it, it was almost too much to bear for the Ranger.

"I know… Man… We'll get them for this, I'm pretty sure NORAD, NASA, the ESA, everyone who has a space program, are all talking with their respective militaries, trading secrets… We're going to shove a nuke down these Invaders' throats for this…" Sanders vowed, clenching his fist.

A distant roar, and the sound of gunfire. Chris looked in the direction of the gunfire, he could just barely see some of the toad-like aliens shooting at what looked like American civilians. Chris just faintly could see the outline of a police officer, as he fired his weapon - the pitifully small Glock - at the enormous Toad, but the being just shrugged off the rounds and tore into the hefty man with his shotgun, ripping him apart before he even had a clue as to what had just happened.

Chris instinctually made to move, his hand going to his pistol, but Sanders' hand on his shoulder made him stop.

"We have to go, man. Atlanta isn't ours anymore."

"Those are civilians down there, man!" Chris nearly shouted, as he heard the crunch of boots on stone near them, one look confirmed it was his squad. "We can't just leave them!"

"We have to, Corporal." Said Sergeant Fuller, before he tossed McGraw an M4, "the harsh reality is… That's a cop, and a few civilians. We're Rangers… We'll just have to make them pay later." He said solemnly; Chris could tell that Fuller knew the simple immorality behind his statement, but it didn't detract from the reality and the honesty.

Chris caught the rifle, scowled and looked back to the distant fight. The more humanoid aliens had arrived, the four eyed ones, they were hauling the screaming civilians to their feet, and slapping collars onto their necks, which then proceeded to do something that the distance removed from detail, but elicited screams from the feminine voices, and caused them to flop onto the ground.

"Alright… Let's go." Said Chris, fighting the urge to simply lift the rifle and fire. He'd spent his entire adult life fighting for this country, the people in it, the ideals it and its people stood for, he was essentially pissing on all of them with this act, it disgusted him, and filled him with a horrible sense of guilt. "Do we have transportation?"

"Whyte found us a Humvee." Fuller's statement coincided with the roaring to life of a powerful engine, "its got a turret…" Fuller looked at Chris' gut, "Sanders… Why don't you take the gun?"

"Copy that." Sighed Sanders, as the squad descended the pile of rubble, and entered the dusty vehicle, with a large machine gun on its top.

Chris climbed into the back of the vehicle. Chris always liked traveling in Humvees, from the outside looking in, they simply looked powerful, and from the inside looking out, it - somehow - looked peaceful. Many a time, in Afghanistan, before Chris had joined the Rangers, he'd had to use a lesson he'd happily learned from the vehicle: It was easy to fall asleep in. The white noise from the engine drowned out the silence of the desolate city around him, the vibrations from the engine shook him enough to be noticeable, but not so much that they kept him awake. Very few actually knew how Chris was able to fall asleep so quickly in these vehicles, but sleep had always been a natural thing for him, all he had to do was close his eyes, steady his breathing, and tell himself 'alright, it's time to go to sleep now', and it would happen.

It took Chris only a few minutes to fall asleep, but his squad mates weren't.

"Err… Sarge, Chris -" Allen began, but he was interrupted by Fuller.

"Let him, Private." The Sergeant said, taking a quick look in the rear-view mirror to confirm that the injured soldier was, indeed, sleeping. "He's been through a lot, today."

"Haven't we all?" Allen asked, with a chuckle.

"Where are you from, Allen?" Fuller asked, his tone suggesting he had a point to make.

"Chicago… Why?"

"Whyte?"

"Washington State."

"Sanders."

"Austin, Texas."

"Chris was born and raised in the suburbs of Atlanta." Fuller supplied, "but his girlfriend…"

"Oh shit." Sanders deadpanned.

"His apartment was in Atlanta. Their apartment was in Atlanta." Fuller let the statement explain his suggestion.

"Do you think he knows?"

"Did you hear how he was talking, after we dug him up? He was in shock." Whyte said, "it probably didn't even register." He explained, as the vehicle finally crossed the Rubble City's threshold, and turned onto slightly less gravelly roads. The outward bound highways were jam-packed with abandoned vehicles, but the inward bound ones were emptier than they had been in apocalypse movies.

"Take that with the fact that he's been serving since he hit eighteen, the fact that he's been pretty much impaled, and that aliens exist, I say he deserves a nap." Fuller finished.

The ride was silent for several minutes, as they continued driving down the highway. Their extraction point was in Macon, but the radio was already filled with reports of gunfire in the many extraction points, the aliens were obviously moving quick.

"So… Sarge, when do you think this is going Nuclear?" Allen asked, innocently enough.

"Whose to say it already hasn't? Those North Koreans are some crazy mother fuckers… I'm surprised we haven't invaded yet." Fuller responded.

"You seriously think the aliens will see them as a military threat? We barely take them seriously!" Sanders laughed, along with the rest of the squad, sans McGraw.

The atmosphere was temporarily lifted, as the Humans of Earth made light talk and poked fun at the expense of the nations that divided their species. Five minutes passed by in a slight somber tone, but as with all things in the soon-to-be Battlefield Earth, it wasn't to last.

"Shit!" Whyte slammed on the brakes, jerking the Rangers forward.

"Sanders, get 'im up!"

"I'm on the turret!" Sanders shouted, standing up to amble onto the vehicle's fifty caliber turret, he kicked McGraw roughly in the shoulder to wake him up. Just as McGraw was startled awake, the bullets started flying.

"What's going on?" McGraw asked, ripping his rifle off of the ground and checking to make sure it was loaded and ready to fire.

"Alien blockade!" Fuller responded, as the Humvee was slammed into reverse, and tore off backwards, the aliens in front of them were already springing into action, leaping to cover and into their own BTR-like vehicles. "Whyte, we don't have time left! Slam right through them!"

"I'll need some speed!" Whyte shouted, before he slammed on the brakes again, shifted into Drive, and stomped on the gas. The tires squealed on the asphalt as the American Military Machine screamed forward, its engine roaring in approval as it greedily gobbled up all the gas it was being given.

"We're seriously ramming them?!" Allen shouted, as he tightly gripped his seat, bracing for the inevitable impact.

"HOOAH!" Whyte shouted, as they rapidly accelerated towards the aliens. The multiple shapes, sizes, and species of the aliens cried out in fear and surprise, before they leaped away to dodge the hot-blooded Americans in an armored vehicle. One alien - one of the bug-eyed looking ones, with the orange skin - was not fortunate enough to have leaped out of the way, and the Human vehicle slammed into it at high speeds.

The Humans could almost hear the alien's spine crack and break into a fine powder, as they kept going. The alien vehicles followed them quickly after they took off, and to make matters worse, their radios specifically were the ones that squawked as they began one of the first Alien-Human car chases, in Human History.

"North American Aerospace Defense Command to any available units from United States Army, First Battalion, Seventy Fifth Ranger Regiment in the area of Atlanta, Georgia. Please respond."

"Jesus Cow Humping Christ, is that NORAD?!" Shouted Allen, from his rigid position in the backseat.

"Shut up, private!" Fuller sounded off, before he grabbed the radio and hit the transceiver. "This is Dagger 2-1 Actual." He reported, "I copy, send traffic NORAD."

"Dagger 2-1 Actual, where are you in relevance to the Macon Evac Zone?"

"We're hurtling towards it as we speak, NORAD!" Fuller shouted over the roar of the turret atop the vehicle. "ET's got two tanks following us, but we're doing damage!"

Outside, Sanders was having an intense battle with the alien armored vehicles chasing them. His turret was eating through their armor, but it was thick in many places and it was obviously not Human-made, he'd tried destroying the engine, but the vehicle didn't have one where a Human engine would be, he'd tried shooting its gas tank, but the same thing with the engine, he simply couldn't locate it. Now he was simply trying to hit the drivers, but they were behind the thickest portion of the vehicles' armor, and when he suppressed one vehicle's cannon, the others' would fire. The aliens had scraped the Humvee many times, but no critical injuries had occurred yet and Whyte - under Sanders' direction - had engaged in a serpentine-esque driving pattern, the alien vehicles' cannons seemed to require a stationary, or far less mobile target than what the Humans were providing, and they seemed like they were incapable of leading the Humans, so the Rangers in the Humvee were doing everything they could to make sure they didn't get hit.

"Dagger 2-1 Actual, the Macon Evacuation Zone is in danger of collapse." The man at NORAD stated bluntly, "the nearest Delta Force and SEAL Teams are too far from the evac-zone to provide a quick response. How quickly can you get there?"

"Three minutes!" Whyte supplied, as he gunned the engine.

"Three minutes, NORAD."

"We need you to take over the battlefield. The Invaders can not breech that evacuation point, Satellite thermals show a mass of Civilian evacuees awaiting extraction."

"What can we expect by ways of support?"

"Army and National Guard forces, with a small contingent of vehicles, are all you've got Dagger 2-1 Actual. Air forces within the city are tasked to capacity with CASEVACS and civilian evacuations. Air Support from Robins AFB is still refueling and rearming, and the nearest carrier nearly emptied out her stock to try and retake Atlanta." NORAD responded, "you're going to be going in without any sort of immediate support, Dagger 2-1."

"NORAD, Dagger 2-1 Actual." Fuller responded, "you give us a corner of the map, the enemy won't take it!" He roared; his point was punctuated by the extremely satisfying sound of an explosion behind them.

"Kill confirmed!" Uproariously shouted Sanders, after successfully destroying one of the alien tanks.

"I can see the city!" Whyte shouted.

McGraw leaned right to see out the front windshield. Off in the distance, rapidly approaching them, was the skyline of the city of Macon, Georgia. Thankfully the Invaders - as NORAD had so eloquently called them - hadn't dropped bombs on this city, but it hadn't been completely spared their touch. The sky was bright red with the scene of war, in the air there were hundreds of alien Gunships tearing into the American forces below them, and a few dozen Human helicopters making hit and runs on the alien air forces. The air was filled with anti-aircraft and SAM Rockets, which were having minimal to moderate effect on the alien aircraft.

"Hang on guys, I'm going to try and lose 'em!" Whyte shouted, just before he began sharply turning the wheel.

"Godspeed, Dagger 2-1." Said NORAD, as the vehicle began brutally twisting and turning on the road.

Whyte was doing an amazing job of not losing control of the vehicle and tumbling into the woods on either side of him. The aliens behind them, however, were not as skilled drivers, and their vehicle was far bulkier. Resulting from that, it only took a few response turns for the aliens inside to lose control of their vehicle, its turret was crushed on its first tumble, and the vehicle itself was compressed and compacted as it spun through the air. Sanders stopped shooting the turret, its ammunition box significantly emptier than it had been when they found the vehicle, he whooped and cheered and hollered at the inevitable explosion that ushered forth from the dead in the water alien vehicle.

"Get ready, Rangers!" Fuller shouted, as he slammed a magazine into his rifle with a satisfying 'click', "we're here!" And with that utterance, the environment around them seemed to simply transform.

Where once it had been a semi-peaceful road with woods on both sides, now it was a horrific urban battlefield. Where once it had been the scene of a peaceful American city, which hadn't seen any sort of warfare in centuries, now it was a chaotic war zone in which alien and Human forces were fighting building to building, room to room, inch to bloody inch. Fuller wasted no time declaring over the radio their arrival, and within seconds it had been flooded with support requests. Fuller took in an entire minute of silence before he decided which situation was most pressing.

It was nearest the evacuation zone, there was a ring of buildings surrounding a large, flat, relatively clear area in which dozens of helicopters and other such aerial transport vehicles were landing, filling up on refugees and wounded, and taking off. The perimeter was largely secure except for one section, its southwest corner, it was being hit the hardest of all the sections, but none could spare the manpower to reinforce it, because of the pressure upon their ends. So Fuller made the call, they were going right into the Lion's Den, and were going to defend the evac-zone.

The American-Made Humvee roared through the city, Sanders atop it, firing its turret at the largest clusters of enemy combatants. He knew he couldn't fire indiscriminately, the battlefield was littered with Humans, aliens, and even some animals hopelessly confused at the current state of their habitat. Quick, deadly bursts were all Sanders could fire, as anything else risked him losing his accuracy and tearing into the wrong targets. It took the Rangers seventeen seconds to get to their destination, immediately they were able to see why they had been so desperate for help.

The alley made by the spaces between the ring of buildings were several dozen meters long, and two meters wide. As compared to the alley they'd entered, and promptly tore through, which was mostly under Human control, this particular one was swarming with aliens. Every possible inch where cover could be placed, and an alien could be hiding behind it, was taken, and the ever-decreasing in size no-man's land between the alien offensive, and Human defensive line, was as advertised: A no man's land. Any attempt by either side, the greedily advancing aliens, or the ferociously defending Humans, resulted in casualties. The Human bullets soared through the air, powered by their chemical reactions, and the alien slugs screamed through the alley, propelled by their own technology, which no Human alive could currently comprehend.

The Humvee squealed to a stop, just in the gap between two other Infantry Fighting Vehicles. There was space enough between the half-hexagon of Military Death Machines for other Humans to pass through, which was exactly what the Rangers in the Humvee wanted, as they slammed the vehicle into park, and exited it.

"Get down!" Fuller shouted, just as Sanders began eating through the turrets' remaining ammunition.

The four Rangers crouch-ran to the alley, Fuller found a Sergeant and pulled him aside. He made quick greetings and demanded to know what was going on, the Sergeant told him that this side was their weakest end, and the Invaders were pushing here the hardest. The Invaders were using a stacked approach, the Toads were the toughest to kill and they got the front-lines; the Bugs were the smallest, were the quickest, and fought far more savagely than the ferocious Toads, though this was balanced with their general stupidity, they were quite easy to kill, but were the most numerous. The Brutes were the most Human-looking of the bunch, and they were the smartest and second most numerous. They fought most like the Humans did, but they relied heavily upon their technology and tactics, thus, guerrilla moves on the Human end almost routinely bested them. Fuller didn't ask why which species got what name, the Toads were the big toad-looking aliens, the Bugs were the bug-eyed, insect like aliens, and the Brutes were the brutish humanoid-aliens.

Fuller inquired as to the available ordinance, and he was told they had a dozen rifle-mounted grenade launchers and a few crates of grenades. Fuller ordered Sanders to grab five and distribute them to the squad, and grab a few grenade belts for ammunition. Sanders shot the turret dry, and proceeded to follow orders. Fuller followed that up with requesting anything else that was of note, and the Sergeant informed Fuller that they had piled up their incendiary grenades into a cluster bomb, and were ready to detonate them all to seal off the alleyway, if they had to. Fuller understood how this would work and nodded, informing the Sergeant that, while that would not be necessary, they should be ready to throw the bomb on a moment's notice. With that, the Ranger told the Sergeant to rally his men behind the line of vehicles, the Rangers were here and they'd hold the line until reinforcements from Robins Air Force Base arrived. The Sergeant was hesitant, but when the Rangers passed out their M203's and put them on their M4's with a practiced ease and an instinctual uniformity, before loading the launchers and taking up positions, waiting for the signal to open fire, he realized that these soldiers were as good as the rumors had said.

"Rangers lead the way!" The Sergeant shouted over the roar of gunfire, before he fired off a salute and followed his men.

"Dagger Squad, open fire! Those aliens do not cross this line!" Fuller shouted, before he and his squad sprinted in to fill the void left by the retreating Human forces.

There was a large dumpster, some destroyed rubble, and two lines of sandbags dividing the Human evac-zone, and the alien advance. Fuller and McGraw took position behind the sandbags, Whyte and Sanders took positions on both sides of the dumpster, and Allen took cover behind the rubble. In seconds, the Rangers had taken control of the situation, they were breaking cover like the Special Operations veterans they were, bullets from the Human weapons arced through the alley, ripping through the Bugs that had taken the forefront of the advance.

"Chest shots aren't working on these guys!" Sanders shouted, after he fired a quick five-shot burst into the chest of one of the less-armored Bugs. The Bugs in question were definitely injured, the blood leaking out of the bullet holes were proof of this, but they seemed to simply shrug off the injuries a few moments later and go back to shooting the Humans.

"Those fuckers are quick healing!" McGraw reported.

"Damn it, Wolverine!" Came Sanders.

"Head shots, guys! I took one down!" Allen shouted, before he fired another burst and took another Bug out.

"Copy that!" Fuller crouched back into cover and reported their findings over the radio.

"Oh shit, we got toads, incoming!" Allen shouted.

"I'm launching a grenade!" McGraw roared, he broke cover and fingered the trigger on his grenade launcher.

A split second to take in the scene was all he afforded himself. Three enormous toads were barreling through the alley, slamming into and crashing through everything in their way. They all had enormous shotguns held in their hands, and their heads were bowed down to deal more damage. The Bugs in front of them either dived out of the way or were tackled out of the way, but the idea was made: The Toads were coming, and nothing would stop them.

Of course, the Toads had never met a 40MM Grenade launched from the under-barrel grenade launcher of an American M4A1 Carbine. The launcher's payload shot forth with an intensely satisfying 'thoomp!' sound, and soared through the air gracefully, before it slammed into the center alien and detonated. The massive, fiery explosion blanketed all three Toads, and shredded the shields and armor of everything nearby. Two of the toads - the center and left - fell to the ground, one's skull and brain simply missing and the other bleeding so profusely that it looked like water escaping from an upended water bottle. The third Toad continued charging, despite a limp in his leg, the United States Army Rangers almost laughed as they each pumped a debilitating five-shot burst into their heads.

McGraw could hear the aliens communicating in their multiple tongues, some guttural, some snake-like, some simply incomprehensible, but all seeming to make sense to each other. He assumed some kind of translator technology was at play here, especially since the Aliens could learn Human languages, as shown by the 'diplomat'.

"Give me cover fire!" McGraw shouted, eyeing the corpse that stopped sliding just a foot shy of his sandbag pile. "I want to grab that thing's gun!" He didn't know if they would make it out of here alive, but if they did, he wanted Tech for the boys at the NSA, or the CIA, or whoever the hell looked into this stuff, NASA for all he cared.

"Copy that! Suppressing!" Fuller shouted, and with that the other four Rangers broke cover and simultaneously began spraying walls of lead into the alley, suppressing the aliens and killing many.

McGraw seized his chance; keeping his head low, he darted forward to the alien corpse. The bullet-ridden hunk of immobile meat was incredibly heavy, but the tech in its armor was still functioning, as shown by the brief flares of violet blue as its shields were activated by wild enemy fire. McGraw fought the urge to haul the corpse in its entirety, instead he kicked the body onto its side and snatched up its weapon, a massive thing that extended into the vaguely recognizable shape of a rifle.

McGraw didn't try to find any sort of semblance of ammunition, the aliens didn't have tactical vests and therefor he couldn't search them. McGraw leaped backwards to his fellow rangers, and shouted loudly as his stomach flared in pain and resistance to his mad scrambling for the sand bags.

"I got one of their guns!" McGraw reported into the public channels.

"Toss it back here!" A Soldier broke cover and waved his arms for McGraw, who threw the rifle like a spear. The soldier caught it and explained himself, "helicopter's taking off for -"

"Stow that talk, soldier! We don't know if the Invaders are monitoring our comms -" Shouted Fuller, as he fired a grenade downrange, and enveloped several aliens in a fiery explosion. "- or if they understand our maps, but we are not going to make it easy for them!"

"Sir yes sir!" The man shouted, intimidated by the tone in which Fuller shouted at him.

"Fuller, down!" Whyte shouted.

Without hesitation, the Sergeant threw himself flat on his belly, an just a second later a jet of fire gushed over him. The jet slammed into their Humvee and detonated in a massive, super-heated explosion. It took just a second for the gasoline in the Humvee to reach its flash-point, and it ignited too, shredding the Humvee from the inside out, and showering the Human defenses with super-heated, inflamed shrapnel and debris.

"Jesus!" Shouted McGraw, observing the spectacle.

"McGraw, on your six!" He heard Sanders yell out.

McGraw whipped around and saw one of the enormous Toads staring at him, rifle in hand.

"Surrender, Human... It will be easier for -" McGraw interrupted him by doing the first thing that sprang to his mind, he fired his rifle.

Fortunately for McGraw, the bid worked, and the alien was shredded by the conventionally accelerated lead. Unfortunately for the alien, half of the magazine's ammunition had soared straight into his groin, where, unbeknownst to the Human, he had four testicles to the Human's two, effectively doubling the amount of pain any Human would feel when hit there. McGraw's rifle bucked as the bullet continued exploding forth, and eventually they soared through the fleshy part of the Toad's head, killing it.

But McGraw had no time to recover, because almost immediately afterwards he was crouching behind cover and reloading, as the alien ammunition raked his position. Worse still, the aliens seemed to be realizing that thiswas the point to fight for, this was the weakest position, and thus were practically funneling troops to fight it. For every alien that went down, two took its place.

Worse still, was the message that came through the radio; "Dagger Squad, Fall Back! Our Snipers have eyes on alien aircraft heading right for your position!"

McGraw didn't look to Fuller for guidance, he let his actions speak for themselves, as he broke cover and fired more at the advancing aliens. McGraw's scowl was one that would make any lesser man cower in fear, the bullets flying from his rifle were ones that would putany man on his rear on the ground, and the men next to him formed a unit that would put the fear of God into any self-respecting Human being. As Fuller watched McGraw, he knew exactly what this man was thinking, and one look at the others confirmed their thoughts too.

Joseph Sanders was firing at the advancing aliens, focusing on their heads as he coordinated suppressing fire and incapacitating shots with Jack Whyte, right next to him. Jeff Allen was roaring loudly as his SAW chewed apart the aliens into small bits of hamburger meat. He himself was working on auto-pilot, reloading his rifle, chambering a round, and immediately sending that round downrange.

"Negative, soldier!" Fuller began, after he crouched into cover.

"Hooah Sergeant!" He heard Allen over the roar of his light machine gun.

"Sergeant Fuller, you'll be torn apart!"

"We've still got civilians that need to evacuate. I told NORAD that ET wouldn't be taking this corner of the map, and by god, I meant it!" Fuller shouted. "You load up those last helicopters and get an update on our fast movers! Until then, my men and I aren't moving!"

McGraw roared his acceptance of this plan as three more bullets soared from his rifle and into the alien he'd been firing at. One weakness of Wave Tactics was that it gave the defenders so many targets that they simply had to aim their weapons in the general direction of their enemies, and they would hit something. McGraw fired another few round burst before he felt that odd feeling in the back of his head, the very same one he always felt when a gun was being pointed at him. He acted on the impulse and crouched back into cover, but he wasn't quick enough, and several sand grain sized slugs tore across his strong arm. The cuts themselves weren't deep and weren't wide, but they were bleeding and they hurt, but thankfully for McGraw, the testosterone and adrenaline was pumping, and the natural painkillers were doing their job, so McGraw could keep fighting.

One thing the aliens that were blindly rushing the Human warriors didn't seem to understand was the simple, raw, resolve that was emanating from the five Rangers. To the aliens, they were simply fighting for a pay check, or for territory and subjects to rule, or simply because they wanted to fight something no one had ever fought before, but to the Rangers, to the Special Forces Warriors that the Human Race had spent thousands of years perfecting, they were fighting for something far more valuable. To the aliens, everything they were shooting was impersonal, it wasn't theirs, so they didn't care if they broke it, but to the Humans, everything that they were shooting was theirs, their buildings, their territory, their planet, their people. The Aliens were fighting to conquer, to enslave, the Humans were fighting to survive, to defend, and it showed, as the corpses began piling up and slowing the alien's assault.

Unfortunately, as with all things, nothing good stayed so. After thirty more seconds of intense firefighting, the alien aerial vehicles arrive in force, and a strafe run was immediately wrought upon the Humans, who dived for cover. Fortunately for the Rangers, they escaped largely without injuries – Sanders and Whyte took some shrapnel in their shoulders and their chests, but that was the worst of it. The soldiers behind them, in the evac-zone, however, were far worse off. Over a dozen had been killed by the vehicles that had exploded, due to the cannons on the alien fighters, and many more were injured with varying degrees of lethality, many bled out in seconds, many in minutes, many survived but in great pain.

But to continue to show their never-ending resolve, the Humans that could still crawl, limp, and drag themselves to a rifle, were. The casualty evacuation helicopters containing the wounded warriors were very quickly emptying themselves, the soldiers that could still walk and still pull a trigger decided that they were still fit for battle, so they leaped off of the helicopter and grabbed a gun. The only soldiers that weren't fighting were the ones that were too injured to fight right now, were unconscious and therefore couldn't fight, or were dead.

The alien fighters came in for two more strafing runs, chewing apart several more soldiers in several more alleys. The Human defensive line was falling apart, and McGraw, now sporting a bullet in his leg, was not going to have it any more.

"Do we have any SAMs?!" He roared at the first National Guard he saw.

"Negative!" The man desperately responded.

"Rocket Launchers? Turrets? Machine Guns? Anything we can use as an anti-aircraft weapon!?" The veteran Ranger demanded, ducking his head as more bullets rained down from the sky. The Humans were now effectively suppressed, if they broke cover they were shot by aliens, and if they didn't hide they were torn apart by the alien aircraft. Everyone present, the civilians included, were quickly learning just how desperate the situation was.

The Guard shook his head, "nothing! We've got the grenade launchers, but -" That was the only cue McGraw needed.

"Fuller, Whyte, Allen, Sanders! I need suppressive fire!" McGraw called out, checking to see if his grenade launcher was loaded.

"Copy that." Came the universal response.

"McGraw, what are you thinking?" Fuller asked.

"Sanders, there's a door to my three o' clock, fire a grenade at it on three!"

"Grenade on three!"

"McGraw, what are you thinking?!"

"That I might be getting a real pretty dishonorable discharge on my record, after this stunt. Three!" McGraw called out, inhaling deeply. "Two!" The Rangers got ready, not a one could predict what the man was going to do.

"ONE!"

As one, the five United States Army Rangers broke cover. Fuller, Whyte, and Allen both began firing at the aliens, who had slightly wised up by now and took cover when they saw the Human weapons pointed at them. Sanders aimed his rifle-mounted grenade launcher at the door McGraw had specified and fired, creating a massive hole that tore the building a new entrance.

"Moving!" And with that, McGraw vaulted over cover and into the no-man's-land. He felt bullets and alien slugs zip past him, as he sprinted faster and harder than he had ever in his life. A few tore across his arms, one across his injured leg, but he kept running.

McGraw made it inside but didn't stop, the door they'd blown open was the emergency exit, which meant the emergency stairwell was right here. Like clockwork, McGraw began thundering up the stairs.

"McGraw, I don't know what you're doing but watch out, three toads, two bugs, and a Brute just followed you!" Came Fuller's voice.

Confirming the man's words, McGraw heard the loud, guttural calls of the aliens as they followed him up the stairs. Literally thinking on his feet, McGraw withdrew his incendiary grenade and pulled the pin, all the while thundering towards the roof. McGraw waited two seconds and dropped the grenade down the staircase, it detonated and while it didn't catch the aliens, it made a barrier that separated them from him, proven when they resorted to firing up the staircase.

McGraw pressed against the wall to avoid stray fire, as he sprinted up the staircase. His legs felt like lead, but the feeling of heavy legs was all to familiar to him, so he ignored it like he did in the past. He did a quick pat-down, keeping his M4 shouldered with one hand while the other hand patted himself down. He felt that he had two magazines left for his rifle, plus the one in the weapon already. He hadn't used anything for his pistol just yet; he had five grenades plus the loaded one for his grenade launcher, and he had three flash-bangs and two fragmentation grenades.

McGraw highly doubted it, but he prayed that his available ordinance would be enough to do what he was planning. It took him forty seconds to climb the never-ending stairwell, and when he burst out onto the empty roof, he immediately put his plan into action. He eyed down one alien gunship and started whooping and hollering, he waved his arms around, did everything to gain its attention. He did, and miraculously, it actually decelerated to a halt several meters in front and above him.

"Are you here to surrender, Hu-" The alien didn't finish, McGraw launched his grenade at the fighter and pumped his entire magazine into it.

The explosion, combined with the gunfire was enough to send the gunship into a spiraling free-fall. McGraw didn't pay attention to it, but it fell into one of the alleys, blocking it off from alien assault. The radio immediately lit up as forces from that alley were delegated to other ones, though the Rangers' alley was still under heavy assault with no reinforcements.

McGraw reloaded and looked for another fighter. He found it, it was flying horizontally to the left, relative to McGraw. He was no sniper, but he knew enough about the basics of leading your target to feel confident enough in his skill, so he led the target and waited a moment to make sure it wasn't going to dive or climb, when he was certain, he fired the grenade launcher. The gunship sped straight into the grenade, which detonated and tore apart the alien death machine, prompting its return to obeying the forces of gravity.

"Sniper Team, this is Dagger 2-2, how many fighters did you see?!" McGraw called into the radio, as he reloaded his grenade launcher.

"Seven, Dagger 2-2."

"McGraw, whatever you're doing keep it up! The aliens are pissing themselves!"

"See if you can do it to our alley, too!" He heard Sanders joke, "we need rest!"

"Bullshit!" McGraw laughed, as he took aim at another gunship.

This gunship was flying straight for him, they had obviously identified him. McGraw fired his grenade launcher and at the last second the aircraft entered a steep dive. McGraw initially was angry, but when the ground shook and a fireball came up, he truly couldn't believe what he'd just seen. The alien had unintentionally kamikazed itself into his building, which groaned loudly as its insides were torn apart and set ablaze by the alien chemicals and fuel. McGraw shook off the notion and looked around for another gunship.

"Dagger 2-2, on your Eight!" He heard the Sniper's voice call out.

McGraw's head snapped to his left, just in time to see an alien fighter hurtling towards him. McGraw knew the alien was trying to turn him into road kill, so McGraw did the only sensible thing and ran the other way. He reached the edge of the roof just as he heard the sound of metal scraping on stone. McGraw leapt off of the roof just a second before the alien ship reached him, and unfortunately for the soldier, he didn't fall fast enough, and when the alien ship hit him, he went with it.

"Argh!" McGraw shouted in pain, he felt his stomach wound flare and his back muscles scream in pain.

McGraw shook off the shock and the pain as he felt himself sliding off of the fighter's cockpit. Doing the only sensible thing, he grabbed onto the closest object that would halt his advance. Immediately the pilot started to try and shake him off, and McGraw realized that the four-eyed Brute was paying more attention to him than he was paying attention to the sky.

"Damn it, man!" McGraw roared, as he flipped himself around and got himself to a position where he could get to his feet. "Watch the fucking road!" He roared, bringing his rifle to bear with one hand. The alien realized what the outrageous Human was doing just as he did it, and he practically poured his ammunition into the canopy.

McGraw was close enough to the ship that its shields weren't an issue, and while the glass was thick, it was obviously designed to protect against rounds that were far, far smaller than 5.56 NATO Ammunition. The result was McGraw shredding the alien inside his own ship. Immediately after the pilot went limp, the ship began dipping down. McGraw knew in his heart that he was going to crash, but in his mind he knew something else, something far, far crazier than dying by the hands of an alien being, at the cause of vehicular manslaughter.

McGraw ambled inside the cockpit of the fighter and took hold of the first thing that looked like one of those sticks he found in Human jets. It was an extremely tight fit, thanks to the corpse he was sitting on top of, and the rifle strapped to his body, but somehow he managed it. He yanked hard on the stick and the gunship immediately climbed upwards. McGraw shoved his feet down and felt two pedals, he tried the one on the right and the ship began accelerating. Thankful that some things were universal, he slammed on the brakes and whipped the ship around. This thing was obviously alien, because any other Jet would have been torn apart by the turn McGraw had just done, but this one did not.

With a sadistic smile on his face, McGraw floored the accelerator and hurtled towards the battlefield he'd just left. He had absolutely no training with jets and fighter craft, but he tested the trigger and it worked, so he knew he could tear into the aliens on the ground.

"Hey y'all, check this out!" He roared in his best red-neck impersonation.

Immediately afterward he let loose the alien cannons, and tore into the aliens in the Rangers' Alley. He narrowly pulled out of the hairpin dive and climbed into the air.

"Jesus, McGraw!" He heard Sanders call out over the radio. "You're a soldier, not a pilot!"

"You complaining, Dagger 2-3?" The Veteran Ranger laughed.

"No, I – LOOK OUT!" Sanders roared before something slammed into McGraw's gunship.

McGraw tried desperately to regain control, but he couldn't and after two seconds, he slammed into the ground, joined by the American Osprey that he'd collided with. Everything went dark before McGraw could even realize he was upside down.

A/N:

I know it wasn't too terribly long, and I left you on another cliffhanger, but unfortunately I can't sacrifice pacing just because it's been a long time since I've put out an update.
Rest assured, however, that if you're reading this around the same time it's been published (1/6/14), I'm already hard at work on the next chapters.

Thanks so much to those who've been supporting me and have been waiting patiently for the next chapter, to keep up to date on the status of my stories, please check out my profile! I'm constantly updating it with news as to the status of the next chapter on an already published, or the status on concepts for soon-to-be published stories.

Thanks for reading, folks!

-PFB