Episode 21: The Breaking Storm
It is March of After Colony 206. In the eight months since the Aresian Military Service captured Vulkanus, they have done nothing but reinforce its defenses, use its onboard automated construction facilities to build an invasion army, and raid Preventer shipments of war materiel. On Earth, the Preventer Corps has begun producing a new type of mobile suit, the Pegasus, equally capable of fighting on the ground or in the air, all the while casting nervous glances skyward. The Lunar Base has been repaired, and its garrison includes Excelsior and Knights of the Realm Squadrons. Lately, however, after so long without any sign of aggression, Earth's level of watchfulness has started to slip, providing the AMS with exactly the opportunity they had been waiting for.
In Vulkanus Central Command, the AMS operations officer looked over her shoulder at the man sitting in the command chair and said, "General Remek, the carriers are loaded and ready to launch. The escort forces are also ready."
Edmund Remek cleared his throat. "Very well, Lieutenant. You may pass the word along to Brigadier General Bernett that Operation Caesar is to commence immediately."
"Yes, Sir."
In hangars throughout Vulkanus, carriers moved forward, each accompanied by a squad of Medusas.
Meanwhile, in Lunar Base Central Command, the sensor officer suddenly sat up straighter at his console. "Sir," he said over his shoulder to the officer of the watch, "the satellite net has just reported the launch of approximately 75 carriers from Vulkanus. It looks like they're headed for northeastern Eurasia."
"Shit," the officer of the watch said grimly. "So they finally decided to launch Operation Caesar. Figures that they'd wait till we were on the opposite side of the planet. Good thing we anticipated that they might try something." He turned to the operations officer. "We have a Code Blue Echo Victor. Scramble the interception units, and wake up Commander Clauson." As the ops officer began talking into his headset's microphone, the officer of the watch turned back to the main display, smiling humorlessly. Operation Caesar, hmph! Sorry, Julius, but there's a tollhouse on the Rubicon now.
Operation Caesar: the codename for the Aresian Military Service's plan to invade and conquer the Earth Sphere. The Intelligence section of the Preventer Corps had discovered the existence of Operation Caesar, but had been unable to learn any of the details. To guard against another one-shot coup d'etat like the Mariemaia Coup, the Preventer Corps stationed several hundred mobile suits, the new PC-05MS Pegasus and the PC-01MS Taurus II alike, in Brussels and in the area around the Earth Sphere Unified Nation's capital city.
"Right then, Lieutenant. What's the situation?" Lieutenant Commander John Clauson, commanding officer Lunar Base, strode into LBCC and took his seat in the command chair.
"Well, Sir, just a few minutes ago, the satellite net detected multiple carrier launches from Vulkanus. I immediately declared Blue Echo Victor and ordered the interception units to be sent out ASAP. We estimate that the first of them will engage the enemy in just over half an hour, thanks to the slingshot effect of Earth's gravity," the officer of the watch, returning to his normal duty of tactical officer, summarized.
"Good. Have you informed Headquarters?"
"Uh, no, Sir," the communications officer replied.
"Do so now," Commander Clauson instructed.
"General, we're detecting some objects approaching at high speed. They appear to be Taurus carriers from the Lunar Base."
The recently-promoted Brigadier General Odel Bernett nodded. "I see," he replied. "Signal our escort forces to engage at once. There's nothing we can do about them ourselves."
"Yes, Sir."
"Sir, their escorts are coming right at us. I make it a good 375 Medusas."
"I copy, Vanguard Eight. Detach from your carriers as soon as you are in range," Lieutenant Hans Heinrichsonn said in a thick German accent. "Stand by... NOW!"
The ten Taurus IIs of Vanguard Squadron detached from the Taurus carriers they had ridden into the battle. Two of them held beam cannons; the rest wielded beam rifles.
"ATTACK!" Heinrichsonn bellowed, firing his beam cannon as the first squadrons of Medusas let fly a volley from their beam bayonets. For a moment, explosions lit space with the fire of young stars before they were snuffed out.
"General Bernett, the escorts report that they have destroyed the first squadron of Tauruses; however, more Preventer mobile suits are approaching and they are requesting further instructions."
"Tell them to stand and fight. They must stop or at least delay the Preventers long enough for us to enter the atmosphere."
"Yes, Sir."
LBCC's tactical officer spoke up. "Sir, we have confirmation on the composition of the enemy escort force. It appears to be made up of approximately 37 squadrons of Medusa Is. Since our squadrons are engaging in ones and twos piecemeal," the tactical officer continued, "they're facing slightly worse than 18-to-1 odds at best. Under those circumstances, we're getting defeated in detail, even though our suits are individually superior to theirs." He paused before adding, "I've already passed down orders to stagger our launches. That should give our troops a better chance of survival."
Lieutenant Commander Clauson nodded. "Good thinking, Lieutenant."
Brussels
The telephone rang in the darkness.
Stirring groggily, Lady Une raised her head from her pillow. Reaching out, she picked up the handset. "Hello?" she said muzzily.
"Lance Corporal Parks, Ma'am. Sorry to wake you, but the Lunar Base just contacted Headquarters. It seems that the AMS decided to start Operation Caesar ahead of schedule, or at least ahead of what we thought their schedule was."
Lady Une was much more awake now. "They have, have they? Right. I'll be at HQ momentarily." She hung up and got out of her bed. The readout of the digital clock on her bedside table read 5:11. What's today? March 15? she wondered as she dressed. A wry smile appeared on her face. The Ides of March. I hope that's a bad omen for them and a good one for us.
The lead Martian carriers deployed their heat-shield ballutes as they entered the atmosphere. Inside one of them, Coruscos Gundam stood, gleaming in the dim light. In the Gundam's cockpit, Odel Bernett looked at a picture of his dead wife and son. "Tricia… Mark…," he said softly, tears threatening to fall. "I'm on my way to begin the destruction of those who allowed your deaths to occur. I know you know why I'm doing this, though I know you wouldn't approve. Forgive me, Tricia, but I must do this before I can join you and our son. I must see justice done, and this is the only path that seems right.
"Tell Mark that I love him, and he'll see me soon. I love you." Odel's tears were falling freely, and his next words were a whisper: "Please, watch over me."
"General," the voice of his operations officer said over the com, "the vanguard is making its final approach on the target."
Odel cleared his throat. "Thank you for informing me. Spread the word to the troops, as well, and prepare to drop us as soon as we reach position."
"Yes, Sir."
"Commander Clauson, the first twenty-five carriers have deployed their ballutes and entered the atmosphere. They're on course for the Siberian Base," LBCC's tactical officer announced.
"Inform the base at once, and notify Headquarters as well," Lieutenant Commander John Clauson replied. "What about the other fifty carriers?"
"They appear to be aiming at the area surrounding the base, Sir."
Siberian Base Central Command, 12:14 local time
"What? The Martians are headed here? Why here?" General Aleksandra Ivanovich, the commanding officer of the Siberian Base, wondered. She continued, "I can understand why they didn't go straight for Brussels, but the capital has to be their ultimate objective, and it's halfway around the planet from here."
"Actually, it's only about a quarter of the way around, Ma'am," the communications officer corrected.
Ivanovich waved her hand. "Whatever. The point is that it's a substantial distance away."
"Ma'am, they're sending twenty-five carriers directly at this base, and another fifty will be touching down around it. That's a force of 750 mobile suits, all told. Do you intend for us to stay and fight them?" the com officer asked.
"Not to the death," Ivanovich answered, "but we have a force of sufficient size to reduce their numbers. I don't intend to waste lives in futile resistance against overwhelming odds, but neither am I prepared to let them have this base without a fight. Prepare the long-range SAMs for firing."
The tactical officer began typing commands on her control panel. "Long-, Mid-, and Short-Range Surface-to-Air Missiles armed, Ma'am. The computers are running targeting solutions for the leading carriers now."
"Good." Aleksandra Ivanovich leaned back in her command chair, a predatory gleam in her eye. "Send word to our squadrons on patrol that they are to engage the enemy once in range. They are to exercise their own judgement in deciding when to retreat."
"Retreat to where, Ma'am?" the comm officer inquired.
"Wherever they can," Ivanovich said grimly.
"Message sent, Ma'am."
Lieutenant Cyrus Faulkner, commanding officer of Stallion Squadron, reacted immediately when he received the message from SBCC. "Stallion Squadron, this is Leader. The Martians have decided to attack Earth, finally, and they've picked our lovely Siberian resort as their beachhead. Fully one third of their force will be attacking the base itself, and the other 66 will be landing in the surrounding area. SBCC's instructions are to engage the enemy and take out as many of them as we can, then retreat." He paused before continuing to address his squadron. "As you all know, we were supposed to be on a long-range aerial patrol before Five's engine trouble forced us to land. The problem appears to be minor, but by the time it is repaired, the Siberian Base will have fallen into enemy hands. That being the case, and given that we are so lightly armed, I intend that we carry out a hit-and-run strike on the base, hopefully acquiring some heavier weaponry, and then retreat to the base near Ulan Bator. Are there any questions?"
"I have one, Sir." It was Faulkner's executive officer, a young junior-grade Lieutenant by the name of Joshua Bradley. "What if some of our Pegasuses are too damaged during the attack to retreat to Mongolia? Will we be leaving them behind?"
"Yes, we will, Six. And let me emphasize to all of you who might find yourselves in that situation that I want no glorious, self-sacrificing acts of heroism. Wait until the rest of us are safely away, then surrender yourselves. Understood?"
There was a chorus of affirmatives.
"Good. Now, let's get Five's engine fixed."
"Ma'am, their leading carriers are coming into range of our LRSAMs now. Our on-base mobile suits are coming online, and the Taurus II squadron we sent out on short-range patrol reports that it is holding position and ready to engage."
"Excellent," General Aleksandra Ivanovich replied. "You may open fire at will, Lieutenant Braun."
"General Bernett, the Siberian based has just opened fire on our leading carriers with LRSAMs. What should we do?"
"Launch the Vulturises and instruct one squadron to target the missiles. The other squadron is to approach the base under stealth and destroy the enemy's missile launchers."
"Yes, Sir." The bottoms of two of the AMS carriers opened up and the Martian mobile dolls dropped out. Ten of them immediately blinked off of the flagship's scanners as they activated their hyper jammers and went into stealth mode; the other ten fired their engines and flew up to land atop the leading carriers, their AIs already tracking the incoming missiles.
"Sir, the staggered launches are working, to a certain extent," LBCC's tactical officer announced. "Our people are going out two or three squadrons at a time, now. We're still losing almost all of the units we send, but they are lasting long enough to take some enemies with them. It's become a battle of attrition."
"Have they received any reinforcement from Vulkanus?" Lieutenant Commander Clauson asked.
"No, Sir. Nor have they made any move to retreat to Vulkanus. I'd wager that they're waiting until all 75 of their carriers have made it into the atmosphere before retreating. They might not get the chance, though, if they use their fuel dogfighting with our forces."
"Mmmmm." The Lunar Base's commanding officer pondered something for a moment, nodded decisively, and asked, "Out of the thirty-two squadrons we have here, we've sent out ten, correct? And another five are on standby, moving to battle-ready status?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Very well. I want the five on stand-by and the rest of our squadrons moved to battle-ready status on the double. As soon as they're all ready, we'll launch all of them at once."
"All of them, Sir? Including Excelsior and Knights of the Realm?" the operations officer asked.
Considering, Clauson said, "Those two are in maintenance, I believe. Knights is having the vulcans put in, as is Commander Peacecraft's suit, while Altron is having its flamethrower fuel replaced. I understand that the original mixture produced flames that were too weak. No, they are to be excluded; the situation really isn't dire enough to justify pulling them out of maintenance."
"Very good, Sir. I'll sound the bugle then, shall I?" the ops officer inquired with a smile.
"Carry on, Lieutenant."
"Ma'am," the sensor officer of the Siberian Base reported, "two of the enemy carriers have dropped their suits. One group we have positively identified as their mobile doll design, the Vulturis. The other group must have entered stealth immediately because or sensors lost them almost before picking them up. Intelligence reports indicate that stealth systems are standard on Vulturises, so I'd guess that's what we're seeing now."
"They did equip a couple squadrons of Tempests with detachable stealth packs for the diversionary attack on the Lunar Base during Second Vulkanus. All the intelligence reports I've seen suggest that those were specially made for that particular operation, but there's no reason that the AMS couldn't mass-produce the things if it wanted to," Braun put in.
"It does seem unnecessary for them to equip stealth packs for a straightforward assault," General Ivanovich mused. "While I think they're probably Vulturises myself," she said, "we'll play it safe and assume they're stealthed Tempests. I want two squadrons of Pegasuses equipped with heavy weapons and stationed centrally. The rest of our mobile suit force I want to form a perimeter."
Bullets spat from the gatlings of the Vulturises standing on the leading carriers to shred the incoming missiles. Far below, the other group of Vulturises sped toward the Siberian Base and its missile launchers.
"Ma'am, our first missile salvo has been destroyed. The enemy appears to be using one of its Vulturis squadrons for counter-missile fire. I expect the second to arrive at its tar—Wait," Lieutenant Braun pressed a hand over the earpiece of her headset and turned partly away. Her eyes widened and he turned back to face Aleksandra. "We're losing our launchers, and not just the LRSAMs; our MRs and SRs are being destroyed as well. The destruction is occurring in a systematic manner. I'm sending mobile suits to guard our remaining launchers."
"Alert the central heavy-weapons squadron that they may have to move at a moment's notice."
"Done, Ma'am."
"So," Cyrus Faulkner asked, standing at the feet of Five's Pegasus and wearing the fur-lined parka which was standard issue for Siberian troops, "have we found the problem?"
"Oh, yeah," Stallion Three, Sergeant Hoshi Liang, answered. "Turns out the problem was a faulty fuel distributor. It's a fairly minor repair job as long as you have a replacement, which we don't, but I've jury-rigged a fix that should last until we can get this suit to a base with a replacement part. We're good to go anytime, Sir."
"Good work, Three," Faulkner nodded. Raising his voice, he ordered, "Stallions! Get to your suits and prepare for take-off!"
"Commander Clauson, all twenty squadrons are reporting battle-ready status," LBCC's tactical officer said.
"Launch them," the lieutenant commander answered. "Let's show those AMS bastards what happens when they don't have overwhelming numbers."
Two hundred Taurus IIs on sixty-seven Taurus carriers launched from the lunar surface and sped through space toward the waiting enemy force.
Gemini Seven was surprised when the Martian mobile doll appeared a mere twenty meters from her Pegasus. Its gatling fire slammed into her suit, but did not penetrate the Pegasus's thick armor. Seven raised her double gatling and returned fire, destroying the Vulturis. Then she opened up a comm channel. "Central Command, the is Gemini Seven at MRSAM Launcher Yukon-12. I've encountered and destroyed one AMS-04MD. Over."
"So they are Vulturises," General Aleksandra Ivanovich said. "Good to know. Are the carriers within the range of our MRSAMs?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Lieutenant Braun answered.
"Flush the launchers. I don't want a single missile left on the racks," the general ordered.
"General Remek, the last of the carriers just made it into the atmosphere. Shall we send out ships to retrieve the escort force?" the AMS operations officer asked in VCC.
"No," Remek answered. "The escort force must continue to delay the Preventers until the carriers are too deep into the atmosphere to be intercepted." He sighed heavily. "I'm afraid that the escorts will have to be sacrificed."
"Y-yes, Sir."
"Xerxes Squadron, detach!" Lieutenant Xavier Jackson ordered. The mobile suits of Xerxes Squadron separated from the carrier they had ridden from the Lunar Base. "We may be outnumbered by three to two, but remember, we're in Taurus IIs, and we will give as good as we get!" The scene was repeated over and over again, with slight variations, in each squadron of the twenty sent out from the Lunar Base, and when the last squadron commander had finished exhorting his troops to courage, the Preventers, as one, flew into the teeth of the AMS formation, while on the main viewscreen of Lunar Base Central Command, Lieutenant Commander Clauson watched the flashes of beam weaponry and fusion explosions from afar.
"MRSAMs away, Ma'am, and the enemy should be within range of our SRSAMs momentarily," Braun announced, a predatory note of anticipation in her voice.
"Hold the SRSAMs in reserve," Ivanovich ordered. "They'll be more effective against the enemy mobile suits."
"Yes, Ma'am. Our pilots have reported the destruction of a total of ten Vultruises. I don't think we have to worry about any more mobile suits until the carriers start dropping theirs."
"Good. Have the squadrons on perimeter and launcher patrols cycle through the Armory. I want as many units as possible to have heavy weapons when the Martians do launch their suits."
"Of course, Ma'am."
Even in the cockpit of Coruscos Gundam, Odel could feel the flagship shudder from an impact. He opened a channel to the bridge. "This is General Bernett; what's going on?"
"The enemy flushed their MRSAMs at us, Sir. There are too many for the Vulturises to shoot down."
"How many more hits can we take?"
"I'd say tw-" Another shudder cut the man off. "Make that one," he said grimly.
"Drop us now," Odel ordered. "Signal all carriers to drop their mobile suits now."
"Yes, Sir."
The bottoms of the AMS carriers opened, and 230 mobile suits, not counting Coruscos Gundam, spilled out: 50 Tempests and 180 Medusa IIs.
"They're dropping their suits," Braun said.
"Damn," General Aleksandra Ivanovich cursed. "Do you have targeting information?"
"The computer has identified the composition of their force and it's running solutions as we speak. We're facing five squadrons of Tempests and 18 of Medusa IIs. Do you want me to stop cycling squadrons through the Armory?"
"How many squadrons can we have re-equipped before they arrive?"
"I'd say… two, maybe three."
"Stop the cycle after the third."
"Roger." Braun nodded at the communications officer, who began speaking into his headset. "Ma'am," Braun said, turning back to her console, "we have targets."
"Fire at will."
"General Remek, the escort force has been wiped out," VCC's AMS ops officer informed her superior solemnly.
"I see," the general replied quietly.
"Our sensors indicate that our troops inflicted heavy casualties before being destroyed," the ops officer continued.
Remek nodded. "Make sure to record the names of all our pilots who died, and dust off the standard letter. I'd take the time to write the letters personally, but with so many dead…" He trailed off.
"Yes, Sir."
"Commander, our forces report total victory, but we've taken 30 casualties in the process."
"Order our remaining troops to return and instruct all remaining commanding officers to see to the letters for their units personally. I'll take care of the letters for any COs who fell."
"Right away, Sir."
"Medusa IIs, deploy defensors immediately! Tempests, configure micromissiles for counter-missile function! All suits, configure fire control for anti-missile fire!" Odel barked out orders over the comm as the Siberian Base's SRSAMs raced toward his force like a tsunami. Dozens of missiles detonated in midair as they ran into countermissiles and anti-missile gatling fire. Still other missiles wasted their warheads against the barriers of the Medusa IIs' defensor fields, but some of the SRSAMs found their targets.
"How many did we lose?" Odel asked urgently.
"Five Medusas didn't get their defensors up in time," the tactical officer aboard the flagship reported; "they're gone. So is one Tempest that got hit by two missiles, and three other Tempests were hit by singletons and are damaged but still functional."
"We got off more lightly than I expected," Odel muttered. "All forces, attack!"
"Damn! Our missiles were next to useless!" General Aleksandra Ivanovich swore as she slammed her fist into the arm of her chair. "Instruct our soldiers to stand ready for combat."
"General Bernett, this is Stheno Leader," a voice said over Odel's comm. "We've engaged a squadron of Taurus IIs that were lying low to our rear. Sorry that we won't be able to help with the main assault."
"Roger that, Stheno Leader. I am dispatching the three damaged Tempests to support you. Good hunting," Odel replied. Coruscos Gundam's white and silver coloration gleamed brightly in the Siberian dawn, blinding against the snowy ground. Odel fired Coruscos Gundam's thrusters, jumping up and over his forces toward the base, where his leading squadrons were already engaged with the enemy.
Unlike the Tempest prototypes used for Operation Maelstrom, which had wielded megacannons, the standard Tempest design was equipped with a less-powerful beam cannon. The beam cannons were still quite powerful enough to destroy a Pegasus in one hit, however, as Gemini Seven became the first to discover. Unfortunately for her, the realization came far too late to do her any good as her mobile suit disintegrated in the destructive yellow light. The other members of her squadron concentrated their fire on the Martian suit, achieving with massed firepower what they could not do with a single shot.
A squadron of Medusa IIs advanced toward the armory/hangar and blasted the door open. However, they were woefully unprepared for the reception that awaited them. The Pegasus closest to the door raised the large weapon held in its left hand. The weapon looked for all the world like a gigantic squirt-gun bazooka connected to a large tank on the suit's left shoulder. The AMS pilots had only seconds to wonder what the weapon was before a jet of highly corrosive acid sprayed from the weapon's nozzle and began melting through the Martian suits' armor.
"General Bernett! The Preventers' new suit, the Pegasus! It's got some sort of acid cannon! Defensor fields stop it, but the acid just melts through the defensors… Aaaaagh!"
Odel fired Coruscos's thrusters again, leaping high into the air and landing a short distance from the armory/hangar. The acid cannon-wielding Pegasus's squadron had moved away from the armory, and Odel saw that the other suits were wielding bazookas, beam cannons, and doberguns. "ENGAGE PX!" he shouted, seeing them turn in his direction. The blade of the shining Gundam's beam bracer ignited, burning silver, and Coruscos darted toward the one with the acid cannon, driving the argent blade through the Pegasus's torso. Ripping his bracer out and jumping up and away from the detonation, Odel fired the double gatling concealed in his Gundam's large shield and triggered a burst of missiles from the same. To his astonishment he saw the leg casings of the Preventer suits split open along the seam, revealing dozens of micromissiles, which exploded from the Pegasuses' legs in clouds of smoke. He fired his double gatling and his head-mounted vulcans continuously, destroying the micromissiles before they could hit his Gundam. As he landed, he sliced through one of the Pegasuses, destroying it in a single stroke, and then darted away, charging another of the heavily-armed suits, which he dispatched with equal ease. Turning to face the remaining seven suits, he let loose an animal battle cry: "RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
When Coruscos was standing surrounded by the remains of ten Pegasuses, Odel opened a comm. Channel. "SBCC, this is Brigadier General Odel Bernett. I control your armory and hangar, and my troops have the upper hand. You are outnumbered and outgunned; surrender."
On the viewscreen in his cockpit, the face of a woman in the uniform of a Preventer general appeared. "General Bernett, this is General Aleksandra Ivanovich.
"I surrender this base to you."
"General Remek, Brigadier General Odel Bernett just reported from Siberia. The first phase of Operation Caesar has succeeded."
"Excellent," Remek said. "Send word back to Mars at once."
"Yes, Sir."
"I think the fighting just ended," Lieutenant (JG) Joshua Bradley said as the Pegasuses of Stallion Squadron rushed through the Siberian skies.
"It looks that way," Cyrus Faulkner agreed. "Right, Stallions, remebmber: we hit the armory, grab some heavier weapons, create some chaos, and hightail it outta there for Ulan Bator."
"Roger," his subordinates chorused.
"General Bernett, our radar is detecting ten flying mobile suits approaching the base. Based on what our engineers have said about the equipment in the Armory, I'd bet that they're Pegasuses. Unfortunately, none of our remaining missile launchers have been reloaded yet. What are your orders?"
"Put a squadron of Tempests on alert."
"Yes, Sir. Wait! They've landed… at the Armory."
"Move the Tempests there, now."
Faulkner led his squadron into the Armory, where they discarded their machine guns for the slightly more powerful beam rifles and double gatlings, which were the heaviest weapons a Pegasus could carry when on flight duty. Then, through the open door, a burst of gatling fire destroyed Faulkner's flight backpack. Shedding his suit's wing shields in favor of the larger shield for ground combat, Faulkner picked up a double gatling.
"Sir, what are you doing?" Bradley asked.
"I can't fly now," the older man smiled grimly, "so I'll stay behind while you get away."
"Those are Tempests out there, Sir. Remember your order about glorious, self-sacrificing acts of heroism?"
"I'm countermanding it in my personal case. Get going, Bradley. That's an order." The automation of the Armory was attaching planet defensors to the shoulder of Faulkner's suit. "You have command of the squadron now."
"Yes, Sir." Bradley turned to the rest of Stallion Squadron. "Listen up! Since Lieutenant Faulkner's flight backpack has been destroyed, he'll be staying behind while the rest of us escape. Move out, Stallions!" he shouted, and the nine Pegasuses blasted off into the sky.
"Now, you Martian pansies," Faulkner said to himself, deploying his defensors, "show me what you've got!"
Lieutenant (JG) Joshua Bradley, commanding officer, Stallion Squadron, did not look back at the flashes of battle taking place in the middle of the Siberian Base. Not even when the final explosion heralded the death of his mentor. He kept his eyes fixed resolutely ahead, refusing to let his tears fall.
To be continued in Episode 22: Descent to Earth