Without exception, the pilots elected to focus on the airborne threats headed their way.
Within seconds of leaving the ship, missiles were on their way to their targets.
The battle for their lives, and for the freedom of every human on Earth, had begun.
* * *
Grant watched the vid feed from the lead pilot on a monitor. What he saw from the camera showed minimal enemy troops surrounding the mothership. That view was confirmed by the reports being communicated by the other pilots in the force. All reported the same thing: minimal ground forces. Masses of incoming enemy carriers.
He opened a link to the armored vehicles and initial infantry units that were just beginning to exit the craft.
"All ground forces, proceed north at top speed along the planned route. Fight when necessary, but remember, we don't need to kill them all—we just need to punch past them. Speed is what we need here."
* * *
From the height and distance from which Rala viewed the battle, the human flying vehicles appeared to be a small flock of angry birds. Although massively outnumbered by a much larger flock—no, not a flock, but a swarm—they were ingeniously equipped with efficient, lethal stingers. She grew angry as she watched the toxins spit from those stingers reach out again and again to knock the incoming Minith troop carriers out of the sky. As each one exploded in the air or crashed to the ground, she couldn't help but think of the lives lost. She wondered if one of these angry little birds had provided Treel with a similar death.
Suddenly, she no longer wanted any of these humans captured. She only wanted them eradicated.
* * *
Titan exited the ship at a sprint, but quickly fell behind the much-faster Telgorans. Patahbay and his fellow warriors entered the fight at once and, within minutes, scores of the Minith defenders fell. The hate amassed by the Telgorans over decades of Minith invasion had obviously not abated, despite the elimination of the giant green aliens from their planet.
That was good, because Titan's hate was still just as strong. He hurried to catch up and join the Telgorans as they pushed north.
* * *
Grant saw the problem at once.
Although the Minith did not appear to possess jet carriers similar to his own, the number of incoming Minith troop carriers they were facing was too great. For the moment, his forces enjoyed the advantage on the ground, but the ammunition required by his fighters to keep that advantage was not sustainable for long. Their basic missile loads had to be nearly depleted already. That would leave them each with several thousand high-powered ballistic rounds and full charges for their less-effective pulse weapons. The ballistic munitions could easily knock down the incoming carriers; the pulse weapons, probably not.
Very soon, the enemy would be able to land their carriers wherever they wished and deploy their foot soldiers at will. At that point, the battle would shift from one of air superiority to one of ground superiority. And that was a battle they could not win.
Grant considered ordering his own troop carriers, still massed inside the mothership, to proceed directly to the governor's residence. The four hundred infantry might be sufficient to storm the place and accomplish their objective. But that would abandon his ground troops already engaged to their own fates. That was not a decision he wanted to make—at least, not until he had no other choice.
For now, he would stick to the plan and hope for the best.
* * *
It was now obvious that the humans were headed in the direction of her building. She doubted that was their final destination. There was nothing spectacular about it that could interest the humans. She mulled over the problem and, within seconds, a moment of clarity provided the answer.
Within seconds of leaving the ship, missiles were on their way to their targets.
The battle for their lives, and for the freedom of every human on Earth, had begun.
* * *
Grant watched the vid feed from the lead pilot on a monitor. What he saw from the camera showed minimal enemy troops surrounding the mothership. That view was confirmed by the reports being communicated by the other pilots in the force. All reported the same thing: minimal ground forces. Masses of incoming enemy carriers.
He opened a link to the armored vehicles and initial infantry units that were just beginning to exit the craft.
"All ground forces, proceed north at top speed along the planned route. Fight when necessary, but remember, we don't need to kill them all—we just need to punch past them. Speed is what we need here."
* * *
From the height and distance from which Rala viewed the battle, the human flying vehicles appeared to be a small flock of angry birds. Although massively outnumbered by a much larger flock—no, not a flock, but a swarm—they were ingeniously equipped with efficient, lethal stingers. She grew angry as she watched the toxins spit from those stingers reach out again and again to knock the incoming Minith troop carriers out of the sky. As each one exploded in the air or crashed to the ground, she couldn't help but think of the lives lost. She wondered if one of these angry little birds had provided Treel with a similar death.
Suddenly, she no longer wanted any of these humans captured. She only wanted them eradicated.
* * *
Titan exited the ship at a sprint, but quickly fell behind the much-faster Telgorans. Patahbay and his fellow warriors entered the fight at once and, within minutes, scores of the Minith defenders fell. The hate amassed by the Telgorans over decades of Minith invasion had obviously not abated, despite the elimination of the giant green aliens from their planet.
That was good, because Titan's hate was still just as strong. He hurried to catch up and join the Telgorans as they pushed north.
* * *
Grant saw the problem at once.
Although the Minith did not appear to possess jet carriers similar to his own, the number of incoming Minith troop carriers they were facing was too great. For the moment, his forces enjoyed the advantage on the ground, but the ammunition required by his fighters to keep that advantage was not sustainable for long. Their basic missile loads had to be nearly depleted already. That would leave them each with several thousand high-powered ballistic rounds and full charges for their less-effective pulse weapons. The ballistic munitions could easily knock down the incoming carriers; the pulse weapons, probably not.
Very soon, the enemy would be able to land their carriers wherever they wished and deploy their foot soldiers at will. At that point, the battle would shift from one of air superiority to one of ground superiority. And that was a battle they could not win.
Grant considered ordering his own troop carriers, still massed inside the mothership, to proceed directly to the governor's residence. The four hundred infantry might be sufficient to storm the place and accomplish their objective. But that would abandon his ground troops already engaged to their own fates. That was not a decision he wanted to make—at least, not until he had no other choice.
For now, he would stick to the plan and hope for the best.
* * *
It was now obvious that the humans were headed in the direction of her building. She doubted that was their final destination. There was nothing spectacular about it that could interest the humans. She mulled over the problem and, within seconds, a moment of clarity provided the answer.
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