Okay, so it's been a while, lets just say D-scythe had to go on an involuntary hiatus and that he's sorry. Here's the newest chapter and here's hoping there's still someone who wants to read it. Enjoy!
As the alien fleet grew ever closer to the station, the atmosphere had become choked and cramped. The air seemed stale and the silence in the corridors was almost brittle. Admiral Grapphin now spent all of his time on his own ship and delivered orders by way of gruff video comm reports. Gloval and his crew found themselves spending more and more time in the bubble, helpless and confused.
Despite the success of the first missile barrage, there had been no further assaults against the approaching armada. Everyone seemed to be in a state of apprehensive waiting, afraid to do something, more afraid of waiting to be slaughtered.
Gloval had taken to reciting morbid quotes and Jennessa had become quite religious over the past few days. She would sit at the table farthest from the entrance with a bible open in front of her. Only Gloval paid enough attention to note that her readings were all from the back of the book. The book of Revelations. The end of the world.
He wandered over to her, ever-present cup of coffee clutched in his hand. She looked up and nodded to acknowledge. He sat down and brooded over the steaming black liquid. "And there shall be a blooded moon in the sky, and all mankind shall be brought to harvest come Reap."
She did not look up as she responded. "Behold, the fourth trumpet was blown and God hurled a stone from the heavens. It's name was wormwood and when it came, it poisoned a third of the springs and a third of the seas and a third of the rivers so that behold, a third of all the waters on the Earth became bitter and men died of drinking it, as did their cattle and their fowl and their lambs in pasture."
"Your daily reading goes well, I see."
She shrugged and again did not look up. "It is a better way to pass the time than most."
"Why do you only read Revelations?" Gloval asked, all ready knowing the answer.
Now she did look up. "It's seems rather topical."
He snorted. "You believe these Aleraus are angels of God, bringing plagues to judge non-believers?"
She shrugged and shook her head. "I believe that I need something to believe. What about you Commander, where do you find your endless stream of dark quotations?"
"Literature of the 19th and 20th century. Stephen King, Poe, the like."
"Dark subjects," was her only comment before returning to her passage.
It was Gloval's turn to shrug. "Dark times."
They sat for a few more moments in silence before the PA system began to blare a klaxon followed by the recorded message; Urgent! All Senior staff must report to briefing theater at once! Urgent! All Senior staff must report to briefing theater at once!
Gloval was taking his feet tiredly when the message abruptly changed.
All Pilots to your fighters! Launch Patterns for capitol ship and fighter screens! This is not a drill! All Pilots to your fighters! Launch Patterns for capitol ship and fighter screens! This is not a drill!
"What the hell?" Gloval was bewildered.
"Oh don't worry," Jennessa began morbidly, still not looking up, "Hell will be here soon enough."
* * *
The missile emplacements that had been quiet since the first test roared their silent fury into the vacuum, hurling their plasma tipped messengers of death screaming across the void. There was no sound in space, but one could easily imagine the titanic roars these heralds of doom would make to announce their plasma tipped messages of destruction to their targets.
A group of five peeled away from the main mass and made a relative drop towards the deck of a giant destroyer that was grinding its majestic way through the airless abyss. Only two reached their destination.
The other three were intercepted by swarms of small needle-like fighters that boiled from swooped hangers in graceful columns of rapid moving war machines. Those fighters that intercepted the missiles made no attempt to evade or destroy the bombs, they merely crashed into the bombs and allowed themselves and the squadrons closest to them to be engulfed the all cleansing fires.
The first barrage of missiles was followed quickly by a second and a third, and while many capital ships were destroyed or disabled, there were many that were saved by swarms of small fighters, the survivors of which would then turn and hurl themselves towards the station, or more importantly, the Griffin class destroyer George Washington in front of the station.
The casualty count was about to rise.
Human fighters launched efficiently from their hangers and arced relative up, in hopes of coming down on the enemy formation. The humans were flying a variety of different space fighters. The fastest fighters, the I-17s, were the first to engage the enemy. The narrow and swift fighters arced down towards their foes and sent spiraling bolts of energy streaming towards the needle-like enemy fighters. Splinter fighters, as they would soon be identified in the slang of humanity's fighter pilots, began to disintegrate in balls of plasma and shrapnel. All in all, the I-17s had great initial success during the beginning of the skirmish.
Coming more slowly behind the I-17s were squadrons of Nimbus gun-ships. These three-man fighters bristled with four omni-directional beam turrets, one on the top and bottom of each wing. Unfortunately, compared to the I-17s, the Nimbuses were agonizingly slow. Splinters would break from their fierce dogfights with the I-17s to descend upon the lumbering craft in great swarms. It would not be long before a gun-ship's crew was overcome by the sheer number of attacking fighters.
As the last of the Nimbuses reached combat range, Admiral Grapphin ordered his bomber groups, which had not yet launched, to drop back into the asteroid belt, then descend below the solar plain in an attempt to come up under the enemy fleet and take some of their capitol ships by surprise. The bombers, which would have fared worse than the gun-ships, were Valkerie class. Slow, but bursting to the gills with plasma weaponry.
And so the battle commenced. The Nimbuses dropped back to the battle's perimeter and formed a picket line to slow the enemy advances. The I-17's did well for about an hour, before fatigue, sheer numbers, and rapidly dwindling fuel began to take their toll. Not to mention the sheer number of enemy craft. Finally, an hour and a half after the engagement began, Admiral Grapphin gave the order for all craft to return to their ships.
Grapphin sat in his command chair as the human fighters returned to their hangers. To his surprise and pleasure, the alien fighters were also withdrawing.
His pleasure was short lived however. With a growing sense of unease, he distantly heard the report that the alien fleet also appeared to be slowing and coming to a stop. Over the next hour, he and his crew watched the sensors as the alien ships rearranged themselves in a choreographed waltz of titans. A massive ship entered the sphere of sensor range. It was nearly the size of a colony. It almost appeared to be made entirely of crystal. Spires of crystal reflected cold starlight brilliantly and arches of gold throbbed with celestial power. After a time, this mighty work of art, a ship so inconceivably huge as to deny possibility, came to the front of the aliens line.
Every monitor in the station suddenly hummed to life with the image of a strange and beautiful creature. It had a sleek elongated face of radiant bronze skin. It's eyes seemed to be filled with pearly luminescence. Silvery hair cascaded down out of the screens view after sweeping behind arched ears that came to delicately fluted points.
For the first time since first contact, Humans would hear the actual voice of one of their attackers, not a psychic link. The voice was low and melodious, like honey and whisky. It spoke softly, yet had an instant and awesome command.
"Humans. I am the lowest servant of Aleraus. As such, I have learned your language and lowered myself to speak with you. We have come to cleanse you, accept your baptism in holy fire and know that you shall be reborn in a righteous glory, truly able to sustain the will of Rammah. Cease your foolish resistance and rejoice, that you will be among the first to receive bliss! Those that have gone before you are all ready being transformed into noble and holy creatures of light. Sing for joy that you may join them!"
The screens cut off abruptly and the air in the station seemed to grow dense with horrified anticipation.
Deep within the heart of the massive ship, a lance of pure light was forming. It pulsated with pure fusion plasma from the core of the mighty ship. The spires at the front of the ship began to glow even more brightly.
A beam of light, seeming so thin as to be powerless sprung from the largest spire. It struck the side of the George Washington and the two ships were connected by a beam of light that seemed no larger than a strand of spider-web. The light pulsed once, twice, three times. Over and over, faster and faster until it seemed to have grown immense.
Grapphin and his crew watched helplessly as their ship refused to respond to any commands. The ship would not, could not, move. And still the beam grew larger. A brilliant flash of life. Grapphin and his vessel were gone.
The alien fleet began to advance again.
* * *
The misty drizzle had become a lashing rain. Thunder boomed mightily from the sky and sheets of icy rain pelted the mud bound earth. Blue-white bolts of lightning arced across the sky in forks of furious power.
Heero had long since realized that they were not going to a safe-house, it was obvious they were going towards one of the private landing and launch fields operated by the preventers. He wasn't sure that Releena had realized this yet. She was still staring dazedly out of her window and staying silent.
Heero had also noticed that the only people that Duke had brought with him to guard Releena and Heero were members of his own division. Normal protocols, maybe, but they all looked a bit too hyped for combat, a bit too loyal to the head war-pig himself.
It hadn't seemed possible a moment before, but the rain began to come down even harder. It sounded like there might be some hail getting mixed in there as well. The phone in the driver's section of the limo began to beep. The driver punched the button. "Yeah?"
Dukes voice filled the compartment. "Pull over here. We'll do it here."
Heero instantly tensed but it took a few moments for Releena to realize they were slowing. The driver pulled a gun from his belt and stepped out into the deluge. The scene outside was completely hidden by the pouring rain. Heero glanced at Releena. "Do you still have your phone?"
She looked confused. "Yes. But you all ready know it's being jammed."
Heero shook his head, "Doesn't matter. Give it to me."
She silently handed over the cell phone and Heero popped the battery pack off with his finger nails. He then levered the casing against a bit of metal paneling until it popped free, revealing the power cells inside. He carefully pulled one free and reinserted it backwards. Then he teased out a bit of wire and twisted it around an opposite contact. He popped the casing back on and refitted the battery pack.
He turned to Releena. "Releena listen to me very carefully. They are going to unlock that door any moment, when they do, as soon as I'm out, follow, break left, and run as fast as you can."
"But why?"
"Because Duke plans to kill us, that's why. Just run."
"But Heero, you can't run, you were shot, you'll never make it." Her eyes filled with tears of fear.
He looked out grimly. "Don't worry about me." A shadowy figure loomed up outside the window. "Here we go, remember, cut left and run."
The door swung open. A burly man gestured with his automatic rifle, "Get out, both of you!"
Heero exploded outward and hit the ground rolling. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Releena bolting in the opposite direction. It was too late for the would-be executioners to turn towards her as they had all ready brought their weapons towards Heero. Heero jammed his thumb into the power switch of the cell phone and lobbed it towards the highest concentration of guards. There was a whine and the phone exploded into a bright ball of flame and metal shrapnel. Heero was all ready running in the direction his wife had fled only moments before.
General Duke was coming out of his own limo when the phone exploded a small bit of metal sliced his left cheek open. He saw Heero's shadow disappear into the gray ambiguity of the rain. Corporal Sam Cross, one of Dukes loyal lieutenants, stumbled towards him holding his guts in his hands. He had actually picked up the phone, trying to figure out what it was. He took a few more staggering steps towards General Duke before collapsing with a moan.
Duke ignored him and screamed. "Fuck! Only Yui would find a way to make a bomb out of a cell phone. Everyone who still has all your limbs, all your guts, and most of your blood, get back in the cars. We've got a schedule to keep. If Brays wants them dead so bad, he can kill the fuckers himself!" Within a minute, the cars were pulling back onto the road and speeding towards the launch towers only a few miles away.
Heero stood and helped Releena to her feet. "We've got to get in touch with Sally, tell the preventers that Duke's gone rouge, and tell them to send a team to visit Senator Brays to see what he's got to do with all this."
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Next Chapter- The Angels Cometh!
