Invasion

Invasion: Foothold
(© Aaron Dudenhefer 9-9-06)

(Author's note: If you're expecting to find sex in this, there isn't any yet. I'm still debating the fact for future contributions. Like any writer, comments would be greatly appreciated.)

The thundering boom of the jets zipping overhead sent a rush through ZemeZie’s body. He felt as if his entire body had been channeled with raw power as he saw the pair of super sonic aircraft broke formation and rolled into their practiced attack pattern. Even with his fully rotating 360° eyes it was next to impossible to keep track of their complex series of maneuvers.
It was a near ritual for him to watch these spectacles, and the sensation was only enhanced by the knowledge that he was one of the select few of non-warriors to witness such things.
As the exercise winded down, he rose atop his double-jointed legs in preparation. The lead jet decreased its altitude as its opposite went into a holding pattern above the base. ZemeZie’s tongue flapped against the roof of his mouth as he jubilantly shouted out the fiercest war cry possible as the jet vectored into final approach. The instant the landing gear slammed into the flat surface of the runway, he raised his two long, lanky arms over his head and waved.
Waiting at the edge of the hanger for the taxing aircraft, he felt both of his hearts pounding inside his chest. The fire of youth urged him to rush the plane, but discipline held him back as the ground crews rushed the jet the moment it stopped. Their four fingered hands worked tirelessly across both the interior and exterior of the aircraft in their search for any possible oddities.
The canopy of the cockpit slide back, and the pilot emerged. He was easily a head and half neck smaller than most of the ground crew members, but held himself in a manner that one twice his size would have. Ignoring the crew ladder, he leapt from the jet’s interior and landed solidly on his three talon feet.
Pulling the oxygen mask from his snout, he eyed Zie. The pilot was ZemeZul, sire of ZemeZie.
“Zie,” Zul spoke with might echoing from his throat, “did you enjoy the demonstration?”
Zie bowed before his father, exposing the pair of horns atop his head in a gesture of submission. “Yes father. It was everything that I hoped that it could be.”
Zul hooted. “Good, I am proud to hear that.”
“I can not wait until the day when I come of age. I want to be just like you.”
Zul brushed his claws over Zie’s horns. “That is a future that both fills my spirit and sets my mind with worry. I can not imagine what your mother would think of such things.”
Zie looked up at his father. “But SielaZeer is motherland to us all. She is the way of progress, of fairness. The shinning light of all that is good within our world, I would gladly bestow my life in her defense.”
The look in Zul’s eyes hardened. “Precisely what you learned from the academy, but do not think that is the way the world truly works. Nothing in the physical existence is truly good against evil.”
Zie was horrified. “But father, you are a warrior of SielaZeer. How can you speak of such things?”
Zul bobbed his head. “I shall tell you of such things when you come of age. Until then, let us return home.”
Zie was flushed with anger by what he heard. To speak in such ways of their beloved motherland was almost hearsay. Had he not unwavering devotion and absolute fear placed within him by his father, he might have opposed Zul’s view.
As it was, they returned home with nearly a word spoken between them. Zul did not bother to even remove his uniform, not with the standing of things. ZemeFee, Zie’s mother, and ZemeTi, his younger sister, had dinner almost ready when they arrived.
Fee looked at Zie wearily before turning to Zul. “Be honest, what did he think.”
“He wishes to become a warrior when he comes of age.”
Fee’s eyes darted about the room. “No. I do not wish him to join the armed forces.”
Zie felt as if he had been slashed across the bridge of his snout. “But mother!” he protested. “I’ve already taken the preliminary services tests. The data predicts that I can become just as good of a flyer as father, and…”
“No!” Fee roared. “My spirit burdens enough with worry for your father, it can not bear to worry about you as well.”
“But…” Zie began.
“Enough!” Zul cut him off. “Zie’s future is not set yet. This is a matter that can be discussed for another time. For now, let us eat.”
They took their respective places around the large block of stone from which they feed. Zie remained quiet throughout the entire meal, but always his eyes were constantly rotating back and forth from. After what seemed a very long time, his mother spoke.
“Is it true?” she asked his father. “Are you really going to have to spend your days in the compound?”
“Fee, we have discussed this many a times.” Zul replied wearily. “You knew that this was an expected outcome when you chose the life bond with me.”
Zie’s mother was motionless. He could see the scales around her eyes lifting slightly, and he knew that anger was beginning to overcome her.
“I am an air warrior of ZielaZee. And it is my duty to be ready to defend her at all costs.”
“But this is not like it was before. It is not about me now; this matter consumes our younglings as well.”
Zul’s turret eyes rolled to the back of his head and a great hiss of air passed from his snout nostrils. “If it was by my decision, I would gladly lose my eyes than have war. But the choice is not mine to make. Whatever happens, it will be in the hands of the Grand Bishop of WootRum. May all our prayers be answered that he heeds the path of reason.”
Zie’s mother cast her eyes down at her meal, and her mind appeared to fade within her head. Zie felt his tongue slavering within his mouth as he tickled the back of his pointed teeth for the right words to pry into what was going on in their world.
“Are the border skirmishes really escalating?” he blurted out.
Zul glared at him and his father’s body quivered as he fought to control himself. Zie wished at that moment that he could have just melted through the floor and vanish. “We should not be speaking of such things.” His father grumbled.
“But are they?” Ti asked in the simply question of her young life.
Zul hissed again, bowing his head. He collected himself for a moment and looked at both Zie and Ti. “I am afraid so. The Bishop’s zealot legions appear to be on the march. From what I’ve been told, they are moving to preliminary positions that can only be for an invasion. It would seem…..war is inevitable.”
“Zul!” Zie’s mother growled. “Do not tell them these things. You will frighten them!”
“Telling them lies will not change the present matters. They must know the truth, and so do you.”
“But why? Why now?”
“Because if a war breaks out between us and WootRum, it will be unlike any other war waged before. There are cannons that can fire shells dozens of kilometers. There are armored fortresses that can level entire city sections by themselves. And jets that can reach far beyond where we live now and strike us.”
“But…” Fee protested. “Their weapons are inferior. I have heard you state this yourself.”
“And yet, their zealot armies outnumber us three to one. Their soldiers are fearless, they live only to die in service of the Bishop and the church, there is nothing greater for them. And the Bishop, he will never accept anything other than an unconditional surrender. To the WootRum’s, all Zielans are heretics. They will give us two choices only, conversion or death. And then, if we are exceptionally unfortunate, the Emperor of DiSal will attack us when our southeastern front has been weakened.”
Zie’s father failed to realize that his voice had risen to a near growling. But everyone else was aware, particularly Ti. When she began to break down, and a long stream of fluids poured from her snout nostrils, did he stop. His harsh and uncaring expressions faded, and were replaced by sadness.
“Ti, I am sorry.” He said, reaching out for her.
“Zie.” His mother said softly. “Take Ti outside, I wish to speak to your father alone.”
Zie was all too happy to oblige. He took his younger sister to the open space in front of the dwelling. He placed her in the small steel seat under the tree beside the footpath adjacent to the road.
Ti continued to heave, and Zie did his best to calm her. It took some time, but finally, she seemed to relax a bit.
“Why,” she asked, wiping away the fluids from her snout, “why did father have to say such horrible things?”
“He only did it because he cares for us.” Zie told her. “You know father would never wish anything bad to happen to us.”
“I know.”
Zie smiled at her. He began pushing her, going slow at first. But soon he was pushing her in the seat so fast that she moved almost too fast for him to keep up. It warmed his insides to hear her cackle with joy. He admired that ability of hers, to forget the bad so quickly. Sometimes he wished desperately for that gift.
But then again, she always was able to enjoy the thrill of the air rushing over her, the way he used to when he was her age. Regardless of what his mother thought or wished from them, it was clear that they both had their father’s love of flight flowing through their blood.
“Greetings Zie.”
Zie twisted his left eye back and saw that it was TeelNou. She was almost a planetary cycle younger than him, but was by far one of the most aggressive females that he had ever known. It was only the lack of horns upon her head that gave her away for a female. Zie turned and bowed to her.
“Greetings Nou. How goes your day?”
“Bad.” She said, leaping over the small stone wall separating their dwellings. “My father left today for his unit.”
Nou was the only other youngling in the near vicinity that was of a warrior family as well. In many ways, he was comforted to know that there was another that understood his problems.
“I understand. My father is about to leave as well.”
Nou seated herself at the base of the tree and hissed. Ti waved as she swung past. “Greetings Nou.”
Nou bowed her head in return. Zie sat next to her. They both stared into the sky as the daylight began to fade.
“Do you really believe that war will come?”
“I do not know.” He said, trying to sound as if he could not have cared less.
Nou’s eyes rotated at him. “Are you not afraid?”
He averted his eyes from her. “I am not. I would welcome the chance to smash all of those that would do our motherland harm.”
Nou’s eyes remained motionless. “You lie very badly.”
Zie fought down a lump in his throat at her seeing his fear.
“But if it calms you, I am afraid too.”
Zie rotated his left eye turret at her. “I am glad. At least I am not alone.”
She turned her head to him, “As am I.”
There was a moment of stillness in which they both stared at each other, unable to swivel their eye turrets away. For the first time, Zie felt a great pressure upon his chest, and he felt his ear flaps vibrate from the rising temperature of his body. There was an urge to take her hand in his, and against all of his best knowledge, he found his hand sliding across the grass toward hers.
Before he could grasp her hand, the three of them heard a loud wailing coming from the nearby air compound. All of them looked towards it, and were motionless.
“Do not worry.” Zie said to both Ti and Nou. “Most likely another drill.”
An instant later, there was an intense explosion. Even sitting down, he was knocked back by the sheer concussion of the blast. Ti screamed as she fell from the swing, hitting the walking path. Nou sprang to her feet and was at her side in an instant. Zie sat back up in a daze. He stared out at the air compound, and was mortified to see the command and control tower, the very nerve center of the compound, little more than a pile of burning rubble. “It….it can not be.” He croaked in a broken voice.
“Zie! Ti!”
He looked back and saw his parents rushing out of the dwelling. His father stopped in his tracks at the site of the bombed air compound. “Impossible. How could WootRum get past the radar grid?”
Almost as if to mock his father’s question, a flight of three jets streaked over the compound unopposed. Zie didn’t want to look on, but something deep inside of him kept him from turning away. There were three bursts in the air, and moments later hundreds of tiny explosions ripped up the entire length of the jet way.
Even as Zie stared on in horror, he felt strong arms lift him up. His father shoved him roughly back to the dwelling. “Zie!” he shouted. “Take your mother and sister, go to the underground room and stay there until I return.”
“But father, is it WootRum?”
His father growled, looking in the direction the unknown jets flew off to. “I do not know. I have never before seen a jet design like that.”
“But…”
“No more discussions! Get into the underground room!” his father shouted.
Zie was roughly pushed towards the dwelling. He saw his mother taking Ti into her arms and rushing to him. “What about Nou?”
“Nou!” Zie’s father barked. “Get to your dwelling, take your mother and get to safety!”
Nou needed no further encouragement. She shot off in leaps and bounds that would have put an adult physical trainer to shame. Zie glanced once at her before she vanished into her dwelling before his mother firmly grasped his wrist.
“Zul!” his mother cried out. “You are not going to the compound? Please say that you will not go.”
“I am a warrior of SielaZeer. I have to.” He dashed to the auto and took off before any of them could protest.
“Inside, younglings!” his mother shouted, pulling them both into the dwelling. Just as she did, the sonic boom of jets again filled the air, then an explosion. Zie rotated his eyes behind him and looked back to the compound. The very air escaped his lungs when he saw a Siela jet, one of its wings missing and flames consuming its entire length, careen into one of the surrounding neighborhoods in a massive cloud of fire. He got to see no more, for his mother roughly shoved him through the door way that lead to the underground room. “What is happening?” he shouted to no one in particular as he was roughly pushed to the room under the dwelling.


Rebecca Terrance, age 20, throttled the afterburners and held her breath as the intense G-forces pressed against her body. Her F-16 flew perfectly under her expert hands as she veered the jet around for another pass. All the onboard diagnostics read out ok.
She kept a careful attention on both the electronic sensors and her own eyes. So far, the skies were clear of enemy jets and any effective AA defenses around the air base. A quick flyby the runway showed her that the objective had been achieved. The whole length of it was pocketed with hundreds of small holes from the scatter bombs her jets had dropped.
“Squadron 1113 reporting in, objective achieved. Air defenses and runway are incapacitated.”
“Ground forces?” the operator on the other end of the line asked.
“Minimal.” She replied, her voice muffled by her oxygen mask. “The deck is clear.”
There was a momentary pause. “Acknowledged, proceed to phase two.”
“Roger.” Rebecca opened the communication link to her two wingmen. “Taylor, Naomi. Sweep pattern alpha.”
The two didn’t need any more explaining than that. All three of them knew that their duties now involved protecting the assault ships. As she eased the stick back and gained altitude, she cast a longing glace back at the smashed air base. Somewhere on the ground nearby that mass of burning buildings was James Carson. He had been sent down a week ago to scout out all possible targets for her and her squadron. There was nothing official yet between them, but they were kind of an item, had been since they had both gone through boot camp almost three years ago. Then they had gone their respective paths of military service. She hoped that he was alright.
That momentary lapse of thought vanished. Rebecca returned her attention back to where it mattered. Her jet cut through the low layer of cloud coverage and came out into wide open, beautiful blue sky. A tiny speck in the distance showed through her crystal clear canopy, and she veered the F-16 to it.
The assault ship rapidly grew in size as her squadron closed into their patrol pattern around it. The ship was massive; easily ten times the size of an aircraft carrier back on earth. Despite the immensity of the ship, it was small by Overlord standards. It was, after all, a second rate, obsolete piece of junk to them. But compared to her standers of technology, it was light years beyond what she was piloting.
And on that ship, over five thousand men and women’s lives were resting on her planes to keep them safe. No sooner had that thought come through her mind, then a pair of blips appeared on her three-dimensional radar system.
“Heads up.” She called out to her squad mates. “We’ve got two targets heading for the assault ship.”
“Friendly?” Naomi asked.
“No. The have no friendly transponders. Hostile.”
Rebecca radioed a warning to the assault ship. She knew that its air defenses were powering up instantly after that. But even with its sophisticated AA systems, there was a chance that the enemy jets would get a shot or two off before they were destroyed. The only defense in this situation was a good offense.
“We’ve got to take them out before they get in firing range of the assault ship. Taylor, you’re with me. Naomi, take a holding pattern three thousand feet above us. Be ready to pounce on those bogeys if either of them manages to get on our tails.”
“Got it.” The two replied at the same time.
“Remember, their jets aren’t nearly as good as ours, but that’s no excuse to get sloppy.” She warned them.
With no more words needed, Rebecca raised her jet’s throttle slightly and dived towards the two streaking specks below. “Taylor, you get the wingman. And use your cannons; we need to conserve our sidewinders.”
Taylor didn’t respond, but she had a strong suspicion that he wouldn’t disappoint her. Relying upon her years of intense aerial training, Rebecca pointed her jet’s nose into an intercept course with the lead bogey. If all went well, it would bring her within cannon range right over the cockpit of the enemy jet.
The two opposing jets with their swept forward wings shot in a straight path towards the assault ship. Apparently neither of them seemed to have onboard radar systems. At least, she hoped they didn’t.
That assumption by Rebecca was quickly smashed as her and Taylor closed within two thousand feet of them. The two suddenly broke away, each diving in a different direction. Rebecca opened her throttle all the way and streaked after her quarry. Taylor jumped right into the fight after the other bogey, which Rebecca thought was foolish. Regardless, he opened up with his cannons and instantly scored a direct hit. The left wing of the enemy jet crumpled to pieces and the jet was sent spiraling towards the distant ground below. His jubilant cry of victory was admirable, but he would need a talking to later.
The remaining jet, the obvious leader, was far more experienced than his wingman. He kept his jet darting and diving in an attempt to keep her from getting a clear shot. That was a hopeless effort. The engines on the primitive alien jet couldn’t even hope to match the power that her own put out. As she chased after her target, she carefully studied his movements, and quickly established a pattern.
As he went into his next evasive maneuver, Rebecca pulled the stick sharply to the right and up slightly just before he moved. And true to her guess, his evasion brought him right into the path of her jet’s cannons.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered as she thumbed the firing button. A short burst from the nose of the F-16 hit the enemy jet midsection, and it exploded in a ball of flame.
A heavy grip came upon her chest as she watched the smoking remains tumble from the sky. Rebecca throttled the afterburners back and sighed. She couldn’t believe it, but she fought back a few tears that almost shed from her eyes.
“All clear.” Naomi spoke over the radio. “No more enemy aircraft detected.”
Rebecca quickly recovered herself. “Alright everyone, back to our patrol path, we did what we set out to do.”
There it was done. Her part of the invasion was over for now. She glanced at the assault ship in the distance. Now it was up the first wave to ground troops to make this invasion a reality.


Dean Reilly, age 23, leaned back in his seat as he let the sweet sounds of Mozart echoed through his tiny headphones. The MP3 player was a special treat to him, and he intended to carry it to the planet’s surface. It was surprising how much the symphony relaxed his thoughts, but he knew that wouldn’t last. The instant he was on that chopper to take that express elevator down, there was going to be plenty of fear. If any of the men in his squad said they weren’t afraid, they were damn liars.
All of them were on their toes as they waited for the green light in their deployment quarters. That was always the worst part, or so he thought. That terrible knowledge that you were soon about to enter a world of kill and be killed, and there was nothing that any of them could do about it except to sit around and wait.
With the little time he had left, Dean did his best to ignore the fear by trying to remember the details of the briefing an hour earlier as the assault ship had waited just outside the planet’s stratosphere. From what he could remember, there were three superpowers on the planet, with dozen of other little independent and satellite nations with affiliations to the three powers. And the section he was in was taking on the strongest of the three. SeilaZeer, or something of that matter.
From what he had been told, it was the only democratic based superpower of the planet. The other two couldn’t have been more different. One was suppose to be a religious based nation; another was a monarchical style of government.
Well, none of that mattered. Those two other superpowers were the Chinese and Europeans problems. Dean felt a great sense of pride swell up in him as he realized that the strongest force of the planet had been reserved for the armed forces of Great Britain and Americans like him, even though technically, America no longer existed. But a life time of national pride could not just be erased, no matter how much the Overlords tried to wash it away.
No sooner had that thought come across his mind the red deployment light flashed green. All of his men instantly stopped what they were doing. Dean ripped the headphones from his ears and tucked the player into a side pocket of his camo pants.
“Alright boys.” He said, “This is what we trained for. Just remember to stay together, stick with me, and we’ll all come through this alive.”
He picked up the M-16 resting between his knees and locked his helmet into place. It was completely enclosed with its own oxygen tube running from the back into a tank just behind his shoulders. As the compartment doors opened, and the mad gush of air rushed out, it became all too apparent that there was a good reason for the enclosed helmets. At such a high altitude, the oxygen was very thin. Sucking in a deep breath from within his enclosed helmet, Dean led his squad out onto the deck.
It was massive. His squad rushed out to join their assigned platoon, which in turn was attached to the four companies that were about to head down below. The section that they rushed to was bristling with UH-60 helicopters, otherwise known as ‘Blackhawks’. Dean didn’t know exactly how many there were and he lost count after he saw that the ones he first saw while rushing out were only the first line of several. Overall, there had to be easily a hundred of the machines. That was one hell of an impressive force.
But as his squad and him leapt into their assigned Blackhawk, he glanced out the side compartment, and whistled softly to himself. “Holy shit.” His said to himself.
Lifting off the deck about four hundred yards away from their staging area was a force of about thirty Apache attack helicopters. They flew over the length of the assault ship’s deck, and banked downward. Dean strapped himself to down in his seat, and thought about exactly just what those poor alien bastards were about to have come down on them. He almost felt sorry for them. Almost.
Then, all thought left his head as he felt the sudden push of gravity down on him as the Blackhawk lifted off the deck. This was it. No more thinking.
He hurriedly climbed inside and got himself firmly planted in his designated seat. The rest of his squad poured in right after. It took one deep breath after the last soldier leapt into the helicopter and slide the door shut before they took off. Dean felt a knot form inside his stomach as he felt that terrible sinking feeling in his just under him from the lift off. He really didn’t want to look out the window and see how high up they where. He hated heights. The truth be told, he was petrified of heights.
Despite his fear, he managed to keep his shakes under control and kept his eyes focus squarely ahead of himself. No matter what, his men needed believe that he wasn’t afraid and that he would look after them as they descended into what would most likely be a physical version of hell.
Dean cursed inside his head as he felt the Blackhawk’s nose began to dip. It wouldn’t be much longer now. He wished for more than anything that he could have listened to just a few more moments of Mozart’s symphonies instead of clutching his rifle.
But if wishes were real, then he wouldn’t be where he was at the moment. Doing his best to keep calm, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply into the rich oxygen that pumped into his helmet. He kept this up as they continued their decent.
As Dean took in another lungful, the pilot suddenly shouted. “Shit! Incoming fire!”
Dean’s eyes snapped open as the Blackhawk jerked sharply to the side. Dean went with the inertia and almost slammed into the side of the helicopter. Only by quick reflexes did he manage to grip his seat just before he went flying. The other men in his unit were not nearly as fortunate. Two hit hard into the Blackhawk’s sliding door, and one smashed into him. Dean cursed the universal laws of physics as he collected himself.
“Sound off!” he shouted. “Is everyone….”
Those words died inside his throat when he glanced out the window. The Blackhawk next to their own took suddenly pitched forward. Dean watch with stunned eyes as the cockpit, and the two men that occupied it, was shredded by a hail of heavy caliber rounds. Devoid of any control, the Blackhawk spun on its side and dropped like a rock to the ground not very far below.
Unable to look away, Dean felt a cringe of fear rush down his spine as the Blackhawk struck the runway and exploded in a ball of fire. Watching the flames consume the entire structure of the helicopter, Dean heard many anguished cries echo inside his head. Blinking away tears, he turned from the funeral pyre of his fallen brothers in arms.
As he saw four Apache gun ships release a barrage of rockets at the source of gunfire, his lips peeled back into a terrifying sneer. “Kill those bastards.” He growled under his breath. “Fry them.”
If any of his men noticed the look on his face, not one of them dared to say anything about it. Dean said nothing to any of them until he felt their chopper touch the ground. “Go, go, go!” he shouted to them. “Get clear of the chopper and find cover!”
They dispersed from the Blackhawk with the military precision that they had honed in the year of intense training that they had all undergone as a team. They found refuge in the bombed out shell of an air hanger as their ride lifted into the air once more.
Dean didn’t bother with watching any of the others come in. He kept his eyes sighted down the barrel of his rifle at everything in front of him. Nothing moved, and by all rights nothing should have lived through the firepower that had been brought down on this no name base. But Dean kept his head down all the same, appearances were very deceiving.
It was one of the reasons that he had been selected outright to be a sergeant; he was very aware and cautious of things around him. But he also knew that there was another reason why he had his position, and why he was in the first wave.
He didn’t dare to dwell on that fact. Instead, he gathered his men around him. Another squad moved up to join them. Dean quickly noticed that they were from another platoon. And worse, there was no higher ranking officer anywhere to be found.
With a snap decision, Dean and the other squad’s sergeant agreed to move out their men. His squad swept through the rubble in front of them, the other squad covered the area behind the wrecked buildings.
As they passed through the ruins, Dean and his men came across the remaining parts of a few creatures that had been inside when the buildings were struck. From the best he could tell, they were definitely the reptilian like beings he had been briefed on. Some of his men stopped in their tracks at the site of the red blood that was splattered all over the piles of broken metal and rocks. As red as their own.
Dean couldn’t have cared less. Other could worry and debate on such trivial things as blood. He was more worried about his own. And that paid off for him just a few seconds later.
As he climbed over one of the last pile of rubble before reaching the remnants of the outer wall to the hanger, he spotted a tiny blur of movement in the next hanger. Without stopping to even think about what he had saw, Dean leapt down from the top of the rubble. He gritted his teeth as his body impacted with many firm edges. The pain vanished from his mind as he felt a rush of air just above him, then followed an instant later by the sharp crack of gunfire.
Rolling for all he was worth, Dean took cover behind a small bit of the hanger’s wall that remained. He heard bullets impact into the surface on the other side, and a chill rushed through him. Shouts from his men on the other side were heard as they rushed to the top.
“Stay the hell down!” he shouted to them as he saw one or two begin to appear. The warning probably saved one of his men’s lives, for clumps of rubble exploded from the unseen gunman just about where his men would have been emerging.
Alerted of the threat now, none of them needed him to tell them what to do. They took cover and returned fire. Where ever the gunshots had come from, they stopped under the intense amount of firepower that his squad put out. From his hiding place, Dean glanced around the edge at the building. He watched as members of the other squad closed in under the covering fire. When they were close enough, they lobbed several grenades into the building.
The concussion blasts that echoed from inside rang almost as sweetly to Dean in that moment as Mozart did. A few high pitched shrills played followed, and were silenced by another round of the fragmentation bombs.
Experienced as he was, Dean aimed his rifle at the opposite side of the building that the other squad was attacking. Again, he had guessed right. A pair of little lizard like men lopped out, moving a lot like the dinosaurs he had seen in that movie long ago.
Fascination ended, and emptiness overcame him. He trailed his rifle just ahead of the two, and fired off two quick double taps. The two lizard like creatures both tumbled to the pavement in boneless sprawls. Dean smirked at that, he was still a good shot.
Moments later, his men were at his side. “Are you alright sir?” asked Larson, his squad’s machine gunner.
“Never better.” He replied, climbing to his feet.
“Enough chit chat, boys. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover, and not a lot of time to do it in.”
They left the remains of the building and swept out to cover the rest of the base. As Dean passed the lifeless bodies of the creatures he had just killed, he didn’t bother to even give them a second glance.



Hidden away in the surrounding forests, far from where any eyes could see them, lay two small clumps of grass. Or that was at least what they appeared to be. James Carson kept his breath slow and controlled as he continued to watch the spectacle of the battle that had unfolded before him. A massacre was a more suiting term for it.
He moved with a deliberate slowness that no one or nothing could have seen, even if they had been right in front of him. Years of learning how to hide were serving him well now.
James brushed his fingers against the mossy suit that covered his body. Underneath the suit and the multi colored camouflage that he wore under that, he felt the tiny cross he wore around his neck dig into the skin of his chest.
“Merciful God.” He whispered in a voice so low that not even his spotter could hear him. “How did we let it come to this?”