by Ballan, Greg
As Ross issued his order, an alien ray vaporized the lone M-1 that had so bravely attacked the advancing forces. Two alien machines pointed their long tentacles at the rock barrier and fired. Their ten greenish white rays covered the rockslide for three seconds and then ceased. The rocks continued to glow and then vaporized bit by bit as the alien energy plasma simply ate away at the molecular structure of the rocks.
The alien vessels advanced again in eerie silence. They reached the end of the gully that led toward the Groom Lake facility.
Anderson pointed to one display. “The heavy EMP batteries are opening up.”
The heavy batteries fired their armor-piercing shells at staggering speeds. Two rounds tore through the lead alien probe. It exploded in a violent ball of greenish blue plasma and flame. The remaining craft hovered through the firestorm, oblivious to the destruction of the lead ship.
Four alien ships paused, then reformed in an offensive wedge in front of the others. The air around the four craft shimmered momentarily and an opaque blister materialized over the lead craft.
The EMP batteries fired once more. The projectiles impacted against the alien force field that wavered and shimmered under the bombardment – but then held firm. The batteries fired again, adjusting their fire to a patterned volley instead of random shots. The first series of projectiles were deflected but the shield wasn’t able to regenerate fast enough to deflect the entire second volley or any of the third volley of EMP fire. Two of the four leading craft toppled over as their engines failed. Another two vessels moved in to the gap created by the destroyed craft.
“Keep firing!” Ross screamed into his headset. “If we let up we’re done for. Don’t give them time to regroup!”
Overhead the fighter jets began their first attack run. Kinetic energy missiles and high yield Maverick missiles slammed into the alien shielding with only a negligible effect. The F-22s were able to bank after their first pass and fired a volley into the unprotected rear of the enemy ranks, wreaking havoc on two spider-like probes.
The two remaining M-1 tanks launched an attack at the enemy’s flank, constantly firing rounds into the tightly packed group of alien hardware. Bill Anderson’s deployment was truly a work of genius. He had allocated the limited forces with such perfection that Groom Lake was able to keep the alien forces hemmed in, inside the shallow rock gulley and not allow them ample time to gather their strength to effectively deploy their superior offensive force.
The fighter bombardment continued as each F-22 dove at near supersonic speed and strafed the hemmed in craft with missiles and kinetic energy rounds.
“We just might hold ‘em, Art!” Anderson said, caught up in their stunning success so far.
The Observers counterattacked with lethal force. Upon some issued command the forward machines raised their tentacles and fired simultaneously. Twenty beams of destruction washed over the Groom Lake defenses obliterating everything in their path. The bunkers and the EMP batteries withered into oblivion and the sand beneath them fused into glass.
The deployed squadron of F-22 Raptors was vaporized on their next strafing attack run. Angry blobs of red energy engulfed each aircraft, vaporizing them in mid flight. The spider-like probes moved toward the two remaining M-1 tanks that tried to outrun the dispatched deadly energy weapons. But they could not flee fast enough and were quickly melted into molten slag by the alien’s deadly ocular-beam weapon.
Colonel Ross’s mouth dropped open in stunned dismay. He watched as the aliens advanced with only one ion cannon standing in their way. He turned to Anderson.
“What do I do, Bill? How in the hell do I stop these invaders?”
“I don’t think we can, Art. Call off the other air strikes; we’ll only get more good pilots killed.”
“I’ll call Washington. They’ll have to nuke this entire facility.” Ross reached for a phone.
Anderson put a hand on Ross’s arm. Ross turned to him and Anderson said, “Art, they can’t. That big mother ship is still in orbit, out of our reach, and God only knows what other horrors they can throw at us in retaliation for launching a nuclear strike.” Anderson shook his head.
Ross sighed heavily and released the phone nodding. “You’re right, Bill. Officer of the watch, get me NORAD.”
Just as Ross had requested the connection, the alien force commenced another attack. Their remaining sixteen large craft and their probes slowly and methodically circled the base. When the outskirts of Groom Lake had been surrounded, the alien force headed toward the center of the base wiping out anything in their path.
A few brave soldiers managed to fire three bursts with the Tesla ion cannon, each burst effectively destroying a large war machine but the soldiers simply didn’t have enough time; three green lances of energy touched their battery, destroying it along with several buildings next to the cannon.
After only ten short minutes, Groom Lake was awash in a sea of fire. The only protection left was in the command facilities and in other sections housed several stories beneath the desert floor.
“There’s nothing left topside,” the only female technician in the command center reported, as tears fell down her face. “They’ve destroyed everything. It’s all one big mass of fire and debris.”
“How many personnel made it below ground into the shelters?” Ross asked.
“From the last report, sir, only sixty percent of our personnel have been accounted for,” the female technician answered as she studied the data display on her terminal.
Ross wiped the sweat from his brow and ran his hands through his hair. “Damn it,” he swore. “I didn’t want this.”
“What did you expect, Art?” Anderson slumped into a nearby chair. “You started this war. You gave this race of beings no other choice but to attack.”
“I was saving our planet, Bill. I thought that a show of force would keep them at bay.”
“You have a child of theirs prisoner, and they know it. Did you expect them to just give up?”
Ross looked over at the monitor as it displayed the absolute destruction of the Groom Lake facility then shook his head. “I just don’t know anymore,” he said, sighing heavily.
“Colonel Ross!” the radar operator screamed. “We have one F-22B Raptor entering our airspace.”
* * * *
The Raptor pilot banked his jet and viewed the flaming wasteland that was once Area 51.
“Holy shit, there’s nothing left,” the pilot reported into his headset.
Erik’s stomach knotted as the jet made another low altitude pass. “Shanda,” he whispered. He detected her presence, but recognized the fear-laden weight within her essence.
“Can you land somewhere?” Erik asked the pilot.
“The runway’s been blown to rubble. But this bird is armed, and I’m going to blast our friends back into orbit.”
“No! You’ll only get yourself killed.”
“What do you suggest then, Agent Knight?”
“Aim the jet to crash into one of those things, lock the controls and then bail out.”
“What about you?” the pilot asked with a concerned tone.
“Don’t worry about me,” Erik replied. “Get yourself down there and stay hidden.”
The pilot shrugged. “It’s your ticket, but Uncle Sam’s not gonna be too happy about losing the plane.” The pilot prepped the controls.
“Uncle Sam has bigger fish to fry right now than the loss of one plane. It’s my call and my responsibility. Make it happen and get the hell outta here.”
“You’re the boss,” the pilot replied as he locked the jet’s coordinates on the nearest alien craft.
Erik focused his mind on the elemental molecules that surrounded the swiftly moving jet. He ionized the air mass around the jet and waited. The canopy blew off and the pilot ejected.
“It’s show time,” he muttered his hand grasping the sentient staff. “I am the warrior!” he shouted as his body grew, splitting sutures on his flight suit and snapping
off the restraining harness.
Erik Knight, the hybrid, focused harder on the ionization he’d created around the aircraft. By force of will he bound the ions together in a dense tight packet around the falling plane. The alien craft fired an energy beam toward the plane. The greenish-white beam collided with the ionized wall and dissipated. The jet slammed into the craft with an explosive force that wiped out two other constructs within a hundred feet of the explosion.
As the blast dissipated, his seven-foot silver frame stood unscathed within the blast’s core. He still held his staff that glowed with angry aqua radiance. When Erik looked up at his ominous opponents there was no fear in those burning eyes. He had the look of a being that needed to exact a long-overdue punishment and had selected the large craft to be on the receiving end of his discipline.
Erik pointed his staff at another floating craft as it moved to attack. A jagged blue lance of lightning leapt from the slender cylinder and tore a massive hole through the alien hull. The ship stood still in mid air for a single heartbeat, then came crashing down onto the desert floor. Three other vessels moved in and retaliated. Fifteen emerald beams fired in sequence toward him.
Erik raised the slender cylinder and it changed into a flat disc. He raised the makeshift shield in front of the alien hostility. The beams collided with the shield and embraced both shield and warrior with their eerie green glow. Erik surmised the aliens operating the craft were likely stunned when their energy beams faded but he hadn’t been harmed.
Erik shook his head as if shrugging off a punch, then held out his massive forearm. The limb began to glow and crackle with unknown energy. He pointed his finger at the closest ship, and the energy raced toward that vessel, guided by his hybrid will.
The alien ship swiftly erected an opaque shield and the incoming energy blast slammed into the barrier. The force of the impact knocked the construct back several meters, collapsing its shield. The ship slammed into the desert sand and flailed like an upside down turtle.
As the silver warrior, he leapt into the air, covering half the distance that separated him from the fallen ship. When he landed, his powerful leg muscles contracted, sending him higher into the air. As he fell, his cylindrical staff became bulkier. One end of the weapon had an ugly sharp edge while the other end was blunt and heavy. Erik somersaulted and twisted in mid air to avoid several oncoming lethal beams, then he landed atop the fallen ship, struck a blow against the alien hull metal that echoed like a thunderclap, then using his staff he filleted the damaged craft like one would a massive trout. The enraged warrior tore through the ship’s armored plating like paper, using only his fists.
They’re drones! The thought came to him as he tore through the hull metal and circuitry. They’re being controlled remotely.
He grabbed two of the large tentacles with his hands, crushing the alien metal in his powerful grip. He dragged the alien hulk across the sand and twisted his upper torso. His momentum lifted the alien craft from the desert floor and he spun the vessel like it was a giant discus. On his second rotation he hurled the battered platform several hundred meters into the approaching vessels, eradicating another several war machines.
Erik wasn’t concerned about keeping his power in check at this point; he was only interested in stopping the Observers’ onslaught.
Another large craft advanced toward him, firing several energy beams. Erik ducked and dodged the alien fire then charged that enemy craft. He ran, ignoring the beams that struck near him or grazed him. He leapt the last hundred meters separating them. As he flew toward the alien craft, he put all of his strength into a single blow.
His armored fist pierced the shielding and collapsed the machine’s armored hull. The momentum of his leap and punch propelled him through the main section of the vessel and out the back of the craft. He fell on the sand, barely avoiding the battered craft as it toppled backwards, missing him by inches.
* * * *
Before he could react, two spider probes attacked him. Energy tendrils wrapped around his massive body and squeezed him tighter and tighter. He focused his strength to snap the bonds. As he felt the energy bands breaking, his senses alerted him to another danger: A tentacle was coming at him like a giant baseball bat.
Aw crap, I’m gonna feel this one. He stopped struggling against the energy rope and let his body go limp, leaping in the direction of the blow as the massive tentacle smashed against his frame. The force of the blow launched him over a hundred feet in the air. He absorbed the massive strike and twisted his bound body in the air like a gymnast. With a burst of superhuman strength he snapped the energy strands and landed gracefully over two hundred meters from the battle. Erik rubbed his side, and as he looked down to the site of impact, he saw the discoloration of his silvery armored flesh. Then he realized that he’d let go of his staff. He closed his eyes and extended his hand, his mind calling out to his weapon.
Like a faithful hound the weapon heard its master’s call and moaned as it flew through the air toward its master. The sentient staff settled in Erik’s outstretched palm buzzing and purring contently. Erik gripped the staff with powerful silver fingers prepared to enter the battle once again.
“I’d say that makes us about even, but I intend to finish this,” he spoke in Esper hisses to his weapon.
NO ERIK, THERE IS ANOTHER WAY. His other voice rang inside his head.
Jakor!What do you have in mind?
YOU CONTROL THE VERY FABRIC OF ALL THE ELEMENTS OF THIS WORLD. DO NOT THINK AS A SINGLE FOOTSOLDIER. THINK AS A COMMANDER; MARSHALL THE FORCES UNDER YOUR COMMAND AND LET THEM FIGHT FOR YOU.
* * * *
“Holy shit! Did you see that?” a technician asked in stunned amazement. “He just gutted that thing like a fish.”
“Damn!” another remarked. “They just whacked him the length of two football fields.”
Both Ross and Anderson watched the confrontation in silence.
Anderson stared at the colonel with an ominous look. “The second father has come for his child.”
Keeping his attention on the remote cameras’ feeds, Ross responded, “It would appear that all the pieces are now on the playing board. All we can do is sit tight and see which force walks away the winner.” Ross observed the remote cameras, showing the hybrid landing gracefully and snapping the energy bonds that held him.
“Let’s hope that Knight is the victor. If not, we’re in a pile of dog shit,” Anderson reminded the colonel.
“We’re in a pile of dung either way, Bill,” Ross pointed out with a ‘we’re-in-this-together’ look.
Anderson sighed heavily and nodded. “Yeah, but I’d still rather deal with Knight than an unknown species that we’ve unduly provoked. The hybrid is our pony in this race.”
* * * *
Gray paced silently.
“Gray, what’s the matter?” Phelps asked, concerned.
“My father’s forces have decimated this facility. Many innocent lives have been lost because of our aggressive acts.”
“It’s not your fault, or your father’s. Ross is responsible for all of this, and rest assured, he’ll be held accountable if he survives.”
Gray paused and his black eyes bulged in surprise. “One of our probes has reported that a silver warrior is attacking the drone ships. Four drones have been disabled.”
“Erik!” Shanda shouted out, elated.
“I do not wish my father and your mate to be enemies, Shanda Knight,” Gray said, sadly.
“Nor do I,” Shanda agreed. “Let’s just pray that things can somehow work themselves out.”
Shanda placed a hand on Gray’s shoulder. “We need to have faith, Gray. Both of the good guys are here. Our dear colonel must be shaking in his boots right about now; at least we can take some comfort in that.”
* * * *
More alien craft had dropped from the sky to replace those that had been destroyed.
Erik counted fifty vessels moving about the surface of Groom Lake. The drones scan
ned the ground, looking for isolated pockets of resistance. The military was either unwilling or unable to launch any further aggression against them. He could take out several of them, but he was simply outmatched by the fifty to one odds. Eventually, they would get the better of him, no matter how powerful he was.
While he was busy tearing into two or three of them, the rest could shoot at him or attempt to cocoon him again. Jakor was right; he could make his own lethal army and command it remotely just as the alien invaders were doing.
Erik retreated deeper into the desert; he needed more space to create his soldiers.
He focused his energy upon the desert winds first. They would serve as his primary attack soldiers, the backbone of his force. He created a swirling wind that formed behind him and grew as he fed the natural forces into a deadly twister. The dust devil was now over one hundred meters wide and nearly half a mile high. The wailing of the vortex became deafening. Satisfied with his first soldier, Erik created another to match it.
With arms outstretched, he summoned the electrical energies that inhabited the higher altitudes. The atmosphere for hundreds of miles around altered its molecular composition as free flowing electrons were diverted and enhanced by his will. High overhead the sky blackened as a massive thunderhead formed over a desert that hadn’t seen rain or cloud for generations.
Within the expanding monolithic darkness angry jagged arcs of electricity sparked. The massive storm expanded until it blacked out the entire sky for miles in every direction. Hailstones the size of grapefruit rained down upon the desert, and as the storm blocked out the sun, the temperature dropped sixty degrees in a matter of minutes.
* * * *
“Colonel Ross, we have extreme pressure gradients building up around the base. There’s a massive electrical storm front forming over Groom Lake. Wind sensors have detected two class-four dust devils less than one kilometer away from our position,” a technician reported. “You’ve gotta see this, sir. I see it but it can’t be true.”