The Origin of F.O.R.C.E.

by Sam B Miller II

  Looking for some way to escape the menacing crowd, Grr twirled in a slow circle, but he was surrounded. As the humans converged on him, he lowered his shoulder and tried to run through them like a football linebacker, but the hulking lizard couldn't break out of the closing ring of enhanced humans. With sucking snaps, his arms and legs were ripped out of their sockets by the angry men and women. As his mangled body lay on the Minsk-Arena plaza, life blood flowing in gushes from the gaping holes in his torso, Rasshur Grr looked upward toward the sky and offered a prayer to his Emperor for salvation. All he saw for his efforts was a boot slamming into his skull, crushing it to fragmented lumps. The last thing the Chrysallaman heard as he died were the cheers of the humans as they celebrated their freedom.

  ***

  Tuurket Axxdo scowled at his view screen as he watched the glowing blue dot representing the Orripazz turn into an orange cinder and then disappear, destroyed like the Luxxtunn.

  "Two saucers lost within a few minutes. Unbelievable!" he thought with a numbed ache in his gut.

  Flipping the toggle for ship-to-ship communication, he sent a world-wide urgent announcement, "All Chrysallaman craft. Warning! Activate your gravity drives and defensive navigation computers at once! The humans have some kind of aerial weapon capable of penetrating the gravity field. The only way to destroy the weapon is by ramming it! Cutter and heat rays are ineffective! Repeat. The humans have some kind of aerial weapon capable of penetrating the gravity field. The only way to destroy the weapon is by ramming it! Cutter and heat rays are ineffective!"

  Activating his gravity field and lifting his mother ship from the concrete pier so it hovered some 10 feet off the ground, Axxdo ordered his remaining scouts to dock with him. There was one thing Axxdo knew with certainty. Humans didn't have the ability to fight a battle in space. Acting quickly, his three remaining scout saucers completed their docking maneuvers, and large clamps clicked into place to hold them securely to the hull of the mother ship.

  ***

  Captain Carlos Chi Canul watched worriedly as first one scout saucer, and about 3 minutes later a second scout saucer, hastily took off, disappearing into the eastern sky at such tremendous speeds it was impossible to follow their flight paths even with his enhanced eyes. The plan was for his team to back up the F-35 Lightning fighter jet on an approach vector from the east in its mission to take out the mother ship squatting on the concrete shipping pier below his hillside position. The fast dispatch of the saucers in the direction of the F-35 Lightning's flight path was ominous, and the muscles in the back of Canul's neck tightened with tension as he fought the urge to open fire on the mother ship ahead of schedule.

  The K-wave transceiver clipped to his right upper chest chimed softly, startling Canul from his worried musings. Reached up, he flipped the toggle to acknowledge his readiness to receive orders. He and his men all wore K-wave earbuds for team communication, but world-wide broadcasts came via the broad spectrum transceiver.

  "All units, you are cleared to engage on my mark. Repeat. All units, you are cleared to engage on my mark," the calm voice of Major Amanda Kurstow announced.

  Captain Canul looked at the screen on his hand-held tablet computer and confirmed his MA Cannon was locked onto the mother ship and ready to fire. Suddenly, the mother ship's gravity field activated, and the ship rose into the air. Three scout saucers swooped up and began docking maneuvers. Captain Canul clearly heard the docking clamps snap closed with metallic clicks. He couldn't wait much longer to fire or the ship would disappear at light speed, and the F-35 Lightning was nowhere in sight.

  "All Units. Fire!"

  Captain Canul's finger was already hovering over the firing icon when the welcome authorization sounded from his transceiver. Quickly tapping the touch screen firing icon on his hand-held tablet, the results were instantaneous and breathtaking. A 6 foot wide beam of white light filled with sparkles and swirls of gray flashed from the end of the MA Cannon barrel. Following its pre-programmed instructions, the cannon swung the beam in a sweeping motion, lancing through the mother ship just above its engineering section, slicing through the immense structure and all the power conduits feeding from the four fusion reactors energizing the ship. Dropping instantly to the concrete pier with a loud bell-like clang, the heavy mother ship bounced once and slid to a grinding halt.

  Programmed to automatically fire on the Klotators planted on the scout saucers, the MA Cannon adjusted its firing trajectory and unleashed its power at each of the three saucers pinned to the mother ship by their docking clamps. Thinking quickly, Canul aimed one last shot at the upper area of the mother ship where he reasoned the control room should be located. Pleased with the 6 foot wide hole he drilled into the structure, Canul thumbed the fingerprint reader on his tablet and placed the Cannon in stand-by mode.

  Looking over his shoulder, Canul said, "It's time to clear the area of any hostiles. If you encounter any resistance, shoot to kill. I won't ask any questions later."

  Receiving confirming nods from his men, Canul jumped to his feet and leaped down the hillside.

  ***

  An alarm began its frantic bellowing, and Tuurket Axxdo watched in horror as a white, sparkling beam of light appeared to lance right out of his view screen toward his head from a hill overlooking his takeoff area. The angle of the view screen showing the beam coming toward him was so realistic Axxdo involuntarily ducked. The beam plowed through his mother ship directly above the fusion reactors, cutting all power aboard the spacecraft instantly. With a resounding bell-like clang, the powerless ship fell to the concrete surface of the pier, black smoke billowing from its ruptured hull.

  Four more times the white beam of energy sliced into the bowels of the mother ship, destroying the remaining three scout saucers locked to her hull by the unyielding docking clamps and plowing through the master control room. Looking out the 6 foot hole in the bulkhead his view screen had occupied just moments before, Axxdo watched a group of humans wearing camouflaged coveralls leap with astounding strength and agility down the hillside from where the white energy beam had emerged. Dejectedly recognizing his utter defeat was sealed, the Chrysallaman commander of the SSizz Group smiled as he took the step necessary to insure the humans wouldn't be able to pump any military information out of him. Placing the barrel of his cutter ray pistol to his temple, he calmly blew his brains out.

  ***

  Colonel Alexander Fields listened to the reports coming in from his field officers as Major Kurstow gave the order to attack. All fifty of his F-35 Lightnings were airborne and streaking toward their assigned targets. Sitting in his office with his eyes glued to his 50 inch wide hi-def monitor, he pulled up the image of the World Map. Green asterisks representing F-35 aircraft moved across the monitor toward large red circles with the letter 'M' representing mother ships scattered around the globe. Large digital counters at the bottom of the screen showed the total number of functioning mother ships, scout saucers and F-35 Lightning aircraft. The count stood at 50 mother ships, 248 scout saucers and 50 F-35's.

  Suddenly, several of the 'M' circles winked out, and Fields let out a joyous Whoop, pumping his fist into the air. Smaller red circles with the letter 'S' indicating scout saucers began to wink out, and Fields nodded his head in satisfaction. The combination of the F-35's, the MA Cannons and the MA Bazookas in a coordinated attack were devastating the Chriks.

  "This is actually working!" he thought and began to reach for the intercom to advise General Blunt of the good news when suddenly, four red 'S' circles converged on four green asterisks and all of them winked off the screen.

  A dull tightness clutched at Colonel Fields heart as six more red 'S' circles converged on six more green asterisks, and all of them winked to darkness.

  Thumbing the transmit button on his K-wave transceiver, Fields said in a demanding tone, "All observers report! I've got F-35's disappearing from my screen. What's going on out there?"

  After a short pause, the reports began flooding back t
o him.

  "Sir! The Chriks can't shoot down the F-35's with their cutter or heat rays, so their scout saucers are ramming them. The ramming saucer is destroyed along with an F-35, but the numbers favor the Chriks! The saucers' speed is so fast the F-35's can't avoid them!"

  Thinking desperately, Fields switched to the K-wave band for his F-35 pilots and said, "All pilots. Abort! Abort! Go to ground! I repeat. Go to ground! The Chriks are using a kamikaze attack strategy and ramming you out of the sky!"

  Keeping an eye on his monitor as he spoke, Fields saw green asterisks representing his brave pilots in their F-35's angle away from their remaining targets, but many of them didn't react fast enough. With horrified fascination, he watched as red 'S' circles pursued and joined the green asterisks in a deadly impact. Forty F-35 asterisks and 'S' saucer circles disappeared from the monitor before the destruction stopped.

  The digital counters now indicated functioning warships at 10 mother ships, 35 scout saucers and 10 F-35's.

  ***

  Sitting at the broad conference table in the Communications Suite in the Nevada facility, General Tom Blunt watched as red dot after red dot representing Chrysallaman mother ships and scout saucers disappeared from the World Map displayed on the giant computer monitor. Staff Sgt. Joe Beale stood in the pulpit on the platform behind the conference table controlling the display of a myriad of images moving about the globe. Digital counters located in the upper right-hand corner of the monitor showed the remaining mother ships and scout saucers still untouched by FORCE commandos. Active Klotators affixed to all the Chrysallaman craft transmitted their exact location on a second-by-second basis. Of the mother ships, only 5 remained, with 13 scout saucers scattered widely around the World.

  Blunt's blood ran cold as he saw the digital count of the F-35 Lightning aircraft piloted by irreplaceable humans.10. The F-35's were the fastest aircraft ever created by the hand of man with a speed of Mach 12, but in a flat out horse race with a scout saucer, the F-35's didn't stand a chance. The Chrysallaman saucers were lightspeed capable and outclassed the human aircraft quite easily.

  "The Chrysallamans began using a kamikaze style attack against the F-35's," Colonel Alex Field muttered sadly as he noted the losses.

  Looking around the table, he continued, "The Heinbaum forcefield bubble surrounding the F-35's was too effective."

  Spreading his hands in a helpless gesture, Fields said, "The bubble is so powerful it nullified the Chrysallaman cutter and heat rays. When the Chriks realized they couldn't stop our flyboys with their normal weapons but could run rings around them easily with their saucer speed, the suicidal jerks began ramming our F-35's under the mistaken impression the mother ships would be saved by the sacrifice of scout saucers. We lost 40 of our aircraft to the kamikaze tactics!"

  Suddenly, the digital counters dropped to one mother ship and five scout saucers, all located near Lubbock, Texas except for one saucer ensconced at the Nevada facility.

  "Looks like our ground troops were very effective," Blunt said in a relieved voice.

  "Yes Sir," replied Major Amanda Kurstow. "The K-wave transceivers permitted highly coordinated, simultaneous attacks by our troops at every location around the World, and the Klotator tracking system on the MA Cannons worked perfectly."

  At that instant, the intercom crackled with an urgent voice, "General Blunt!"

  Quickly tapping the receive button, Blunt said, "Go ahead."

  "Sir. The communication panel in the control room of the captured saucer just started squawking loudly. Something's going on!"

  Thinking hurriedly, Blunt ordered, "Find Whatsit and tell him to meet me in the saucer control room. On the double!"

  Pushing the intercom button to disconnect, Blunt peered around the table and said, "All of you come with me. I think the Chrik in Lubbock is ready to fly the coop!"

  ***

  Lounging in his quarters at the Nevada facility, Whatsit smiled as he watched the last scene of one of his favorite movies, 'The Good, the Bad and the Ugly'. Tuco Ramirez, the Ugly, was his most-liked character. He loved how the sombrero wearing bandito would try his best to be mean and evil only to reveal a twisted kind of friendship with Blondie, portrayed by Clint Eastwood.

  Based upon his personal preferences, Whatsit had insisted his room have a western motif. Wooden beams 8 inches wide and about 4 feet apart crossed the ceiling. The walls looked like they came from a log cabin, including the grayish-white caulking filling the cracks between each log. Area rugs with buffaloes and Native American designs and symbols dotted the floor. A large, dark oak armoire stood against one wall, and several highly decorated sombreros hung from pegs around the room. The end of the living room opposite the entry door was dedicated to an elaborate entertainment system. A 65 inch LED 4K Ultra HD TV and a long, high-tech soundbar with wireless subwoofer sat upon a dark oak TV cabinet. The very latest Blu-ray player with built-in streaming Wi-Fi filled the left hand side of one of the cabinet shelves. An X-Box, Playstation and Wii console with every peripheral controller, headset and accessory known to exist rounded out the tech-lover's dream. A tall, swiveling disc tower in a corner to the left of the TV cabinet held over 1,000 movies and games. Whatsit never lacked for something to watch or play while he lived at the base. A nicely cushioned, high-backed leather swiveling chair completed the arrangement.

  Whatsit marveled at how humans created multiple ways of entertaining themselves, as if life bored them. In fact, Whatsit had observed over his many years interacting with them that humans reacted faster and thought more clearly when under stress. His alien perspective had led him to think of humans as adrenaline junkies. Interestingly, as Whatsit had learned their English language and begun watching newscasts, movies and television, he had gravitated to the more action packed shows. After some introspection about what he liked for entertainment and how he felt during his military missions, Whatsit finally admitted he had become an adrenaline junkie himself.

  A loud knock at his door jarred him from his musing. As he opened the door and saw the excited look on Sgt. Beale's face, he knew the time had come for a showdown.

  "Grab your stuff and meet Tom at the Jasirac," Beale telepathically communicated with a glint in his eyes. "Looks like old Hisspat Zeck is going to make a run for it!"

  With a knowing nod, Whatsit walked to his armoire and opened its double doors. Quickly shouldering into his dark green trench coat, he donned his bolo tie with the Chrysallaman skull clasp and pulled his bandoleer over his head, straightening it across his chest. Checking to make sure his cutter ray pistol had a fully charged power module, he fitted his tan sombrero with the dark trim on his head. Looking at himself in the mirror on the inside of one of the armoire doors and satisfied with his appearance, Whatsit jogged out of his quarters toward the hangar.

  ***

  The loud, irritating shriek coming from the communications panel in the master control room of the Jasirac threatened to give them headaches as General Blunt and his staff ran up the entry ramp into the saucer. Whatsit arrived almost simultaneously and strode over to the control panel and pushed a blinking yellow stud. The noise stopped immediately, but in the silence, all of them could still feel their eardrums vibrating from the ear-splitting noise.

  "I must respond to the recall quickly, or Hisspat Zeck's suspicions will be aroused," Whatsit said.

  "Do it!" Tom responded. "You know the game plan."

  Flipping a toggle to open the radio channel, Whatsit answered, "Curtilact Kutlurr, Sir. Sorry for the delay."

  "Moron! What were you doing? Do you have any idea what's going on?"

  "I was outside with my crew mopping up a few dozen human animals skulking in an underground warren of rooms. I guess the depth of the caves must have blocked our radio reception."

  "The humans have rebelled against us!" Hisspat Zeck fairly screamed. "They have some kind of weapon capable of penetrating the gravity field. My mother ship is the only one left!"

  "What are your orders, Sir?"
/>
  "With all speed, rendezvous with my ship. I'm going to planetary orbit now for protection from these ever to be damned humans!"

  "On my way! Curtilact Kutlurr out," and Whatsit keyed the cutoff switch.

  Turning to look at Blunt and his Staff, he said, "We will need to take off at once so not to rouse further suspicion."

  "Are all our commandos on board?" Blunt asked.

  "Yes, Sir," Kurstow confirmed.

  "Then let's get moving," Blunt said.

  Activating the gravity drive field, Whatsit guided the scout saucer out of the hangar and set its navigation controls to dock with the mother ship, VrrSilliac Xur. At one quarter lightspeed, the journey required only three seconds. Keying the commands for automated docking, Whatsit and Blunt watched the view screen as their saucer quickly nestled into its bay, and the docking clamps clicked into position with an audible thunk. Whatsit powered down the fusion reactor to stand-by mode.

  Activating his K-wave earbud transceiver, Blunt said, "Remain hidden until Whatsit and I have been gone 3 minutes. Then proceed with the plan."

  Receiving acknowledgments from his team leaders, Blunt looked at Whatsit and said with a smile, "Let's do a meet and greet with the Fleet General. I hope he has the red carpet laid out for us."

  Staring back at Tom with a wry grin on his face, Whatsit replied, "Do you know it took me almost 50 years of dedicated study to begin to understand human idioms and metaphors?"

  "You poor dear!" Tom laughed, and he thumped his hand on Whatsit's back as they walked out of the control room.

  Whatsit strode the corridors of the mother ship as if he walked them every day. Blunt couldn't understand how the Chrysallaman knew which of the myriad of corridors to take until he opened his telepathic receptors and realized there were subtle telepathic tokens built into the walls giving clear guidance throughout the ship. Once you knew the tokens existed, even a child could readily find any area of the craft.

  At last they rounded a final bend and walked into the master control room of the mother ship. Hisspat Zeck sat in his command couch facing them as they entered. He was dressed in a gold colored robe fitted with gaudy red cuffs and matching epaulets. A tiara of diamond glass perched on top of his head. He looked like a combination of clown and fast-food huckster.