Disclaimer: I don't own the term 'Jet Force' but I own Jet Force Libra, Rob Miller, Tom, and Adam.



"Ahhh." Rob Miller relaxed in his chair, sipping a cup of coffee. He nonchalantly typed on his computer, not really doing work, mostly sending some e-mails to his friends. He began to sing some songs from the new CD he had got as a present. Suddenly, a window popped up on his window. Rob looked at it and instantly spat out his coffee.

"Holy shit!!!" He set his cup on the desk and took off down the hall. He skidded around a corner, sending a stack of papers flying. "Hey, watch were you're going, buddy!" a man yelled.

Rob ignored him and kept running. He punched in a code on a keypad next to a door, and it opened. He stepped out onto a balcony, as hundreds of operators and computers in rows spread out before him. Ringing phones and processing computers filled the air. Rob flailed his arms wildly, screaming, "We have a Code Blue Niner Niner!!

The sound in the room erupted. Everyone was frantically typing at their computers. The intercom boomed. "Everyone, please remain calm. Remain calm."

No one listened. It was pandemonium.

Meanwhile, in the Jet Force Libra Troop Center..

A solitary commander paced back and forth on a stage. The Jet Force Libra flag was hung behind him. It was a picture of the ancient constallion Libra, with lines spreading out from it.

The commander barked out, "We have received a distress signal from the planet Goldwood. They have word of a new wave of attackers, description unknown. Our mission is to eliminate the attackers. You will report to your designated docks in 0.100 hours. Deeemissed!" The soldiers evacuated the room, and ran to their barracks.

In the barracks.

One soldier flung open a chest at the foot of his bed. In it was a machine gun, laid on a golden silk cloth. It had kill tarry markings on it. The soldier behind him pulled out a knife and a sniper rifle.

"Been a while since I used this baby," said Tom, the one with the machine gun.

"I just wanna get myself some bugs," said Adam, the one with the rifle.

Tom grinned. He walked through a door in the barracks to another room. In the room, there was a large capsule. Tom stepped in it, and heat-detecting sensors automatically closed the capsule's door. A bright beam of light filled it, and disappeared. Tom was in his own custom armor. It was the same as the others, except he had painted black lines on the side of the helmet, like war paint. He had also added spurs on the boots.

Adam did the same. His armor was the same as the usual, except for the helmet. Instead of a visor, it was a clear rectangle across the face, revealing only the eyes. It had a built in heat-sensor and sniper scope.

Tom and Adam stepped to the Molecular Transport Units. They typed in the coordinates for the docks, and stepped inside. When they came back out, they were at the docks.

At The Docks..

Tom and Adam ran down a catwalk to their assigned ship. The exited off a ramp, and stepped onto a platform. A bar raised the platform to the ship. Everyone had a different model ship, for everyone was best at certain missions. Tom and Adam's was a flat triangular shape, with short but sleek triangle wings. It was modeled after the ancient A-22 Blackbird, built by his home planet, Earth. Tom hopped into the cockpit and sat down. Adam stepped into the cargo hold. Tom began to rev up the engines, and set the coordinates for Goldwood. He lied back and waited.

30 Minutes Later..

Tom lied in his seat, asleep. Just then, the radio crackled, and an operator spoke. "Unit Libra 009, you have permission for take off." Tom flicked on the radio and spoke back. "I read, iniating take off sequence."

The engine thrusters lit up. The mechinal arms holding the ship in place were removed. Tom turned the plane to the right, facing the opening. He lifted up and out, leading the charge for Goldwood.