op2024
Cyberlad
Half Pint
Ezekiel
PatientBean
Mao Mao
Retired
Qia
Festive
mickilennial
Much Later...
It was horrible, Dennis was muttering barely coherently. The Vigilante kicked the bottom of the door until the old man finally opened up. He carried the younger man with his torn flight jacket, who was covered in cuts and abbrasions.
"mmm-mmm mmm-oo mmm-t..."
The Vigilante put the new Aquilifer down on the lounge in Alan's living room.
"mmm-mmm mmm-oo mmm-t..." He muttered again.
"Sssh-ssh... It's alright. You rest for now, Dennis. You've been out there for hours." Coghlan said, his concern for his grandson shining through, before turning to the man in black. "You too, can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?"
"I'm fine. My rest was carrying him here. You just watch him til he can get back out there. This is a long way from over." With alien ships still filling the Lost Haven skies, he stated the obvious. He stretched his back with a crack and then walked back out the front door.
"mmm can't mmm-oo it..."
"What was that?" The old man rushed to his grandson's side. "What did you say, Dennis?"
A tear ran down a swollen eye that was lightly blackened. The younger man rolled gingerly away on to his side in shame, turning his back to his grandfather.
"I'm not ready. You were right. I can't do this... I'm not ready." He mumbled, giving voice to one of the older man's greatest fears. In a few moments he would pass out from exhaustion.
The Golden Rod would fall from the unconscious young man's grasp.
Now...
"It's... *HFF* ...the last... *PFF* ...one now." Dennis grunted, as he lowered the last car onto the stack, blocking a side street.
"Great. Just in time. Because we have incoming..."
The three stood in the middle of the road as an onslaught of flying alien vessels whistled past from overhead, shooting up the street and cratering the bitumen with energy weapons.
"So... any kind of plan?" Dennis asked nervously, as he shielded them from the first pass with a construct from the Golden Rod.
"Always." Smirked the Vigilante. "Protect the building where your grandfather used to work..."
"Got it!" Flux looked at the man in black quizzically.
"And I don't think it'll be necessary, because they'd hit too many of their own people, but..."
"But what..?"
The Vigilante sighed out of concern for if it came to it. But contingincies. Always contingencies.
"But if they decide to drop any more rocks from above, I don't want you making out like Icon. Don't try and catch the thing. Use that fancy metal spoon of yours and just deflect them out to sea, 'Kay?"
Dennis just nodded, and watched on with more than a little panic as a stream of flying ships broke from the mothership far ahead and down towards the street ahead of them.
"I'm assuming you just nodded to me even though we have our backs to one another..."
"Ye-- Yeah. Sorry."
"It's OK. But you're going to have to speak up. Communicate. We're all going to need to if we're going to last. That goes for you too, Chrissy. Same page."
"I'm sorry. I'm still not very familiar with many of your world's books yet..."
"That's fine. You'll undoubtedly get on fine with this one then..." The Vigilante jerked a thumb to gesture at the Aquilifer.
"Hey! I'll have you know I was an English Major!" Dennis yelled back defensively.
"Fantastic, you simultaneously proved a point to me, and made me feel you have less chances of making it out of this fight alive..." He riffed through his voice modulator.
"Have you two been great enemies in the past?" The friendly Arlaaekian asked, a look of concern crossing her face.
"It's called banter. It's what experienced heroes do to take young people - who happen to be out of their depth -'s minds off of the fact they're going to die."
"STOP TELLING ME I'M GOING TO DIE!"
"Then stop arguing with me and prove you're not."
"YAAAAAARGH!" Dennis took three steps forward and set a solid construct, which half of the first wave of flying ships plowed into. There was a loud rending of alien metal screeching, and wreckage bursting into flames, before many ships were left falling impotently to the street below.
"That half's yours, I'll take care of these!" The younger Aquilifer rushed forward to continue his attack on the ships, in various states of disarray.
Isaac turned to Flux and offered a wry knowing grin.
"He's also a whiner." The Vigilante explained his actions to Chrissy as if anyone had asked. "So if I needle him a little it'll get him to speak up and communicate. Even if it's just to complain. You take those three, I've got this bigger one that's coming." The Vigilante pointed to three ships tearing down the right side of the wide street. Chrissy flew off to find a way to stop them, looking back over her shoulder to see what the strange one in the black clothes was going to do about his. He seemed to be picking up a stone from the street.
Chrissy concentrated and rode his anger once more, letting it wash over her she timed a jump perfectly with a furrowed brow and landed on the front of a ship. Red lights flashed in the cockpit as the ship seemed to suffer in a way not unsimilar to being caught in a gravity well. The Arlaeekian pilot panicked, and was shocked at the appearance of one of his own kind thrashing at the machinery with her bare hands and unbridled rage. As it started to be pulled down, she telekinetically dragged a second ship into the first whilst jumping clear of the explosion in her wake, onto the third and final ship behind the first two.
The pilot tried to scream, there was no time. A large teal fist punched straight through the avionics and tore the guts of the machine out. Chrissy jumped clear, trying to make it to another rooftop but fell short, managing to instead grab hold of a fire escape. She looked back to see the one in black staring down his ship with some kind of strange amateur gun under one arm. What was he doing?
The Vigilante gave a knowing smirk and tossed his grapple gun to the side. He watched as the larger ship started to bear down on him, small hatches with some kind of laser weapons opened up on the wings as it prepared to arm itself. The Vigilante wound up and hurled the stone in his right hand, tapping his gravity gauntlet with perfect timing as the small stone was hurled with increased mass. The kind of force you would expect if a man could throw a truck like skipping stones.
Chrissy gasped as the tiny stone crumpled the front of the ship. It began to sway, red lights blaring within the cockpit. The ships shielding did not anticipate significant force to be able to be generated from such an action.
"Well if these two humans could do this..." Chrissy thought to herself. "Maybe... Perhaps... Do we dare have hope?"
Admiral Keelan stood in the Operations Center aboard the Bridge of the mothership, closely observing the changes on the most recent three dimensional holographic Battle Assessment feed. It took the form of a massive, user friendly hard-light globe, that could be turned and manipulated, and displayed orbital ships and attack formations. To his right were live feed screens of numerous points of interest, one from the perspective of the Golden Rod itself as the new Aquilifer looked to try and take the fight to the preliminary rank and file Arlaaekan force, alongside some lowlevel human of little importance and someone else of considerably more interest.
Keelan twisted the globe to give a better angle of North America.
This place. Here where they were believed to be a "Superpower", here is where he would break the earthmen's spirit.
<"Sir! The initial push seems to have been remarkably effective, Admiral Keelan, sir!">
The Admiral grimaced at the unwelcome interruption, his face curling into a sneer which was enough to silence the bombastic underling and his unwanted praise.
<"LEAVE US!"> Barked Commodore Bayla, entering the room with two ceremonial glasses and a bottle of J'un'J'nna mead. A refined delicacy of fermented nectar from one of the earlier conquored worlds. The underling scurried away with little idea of the wrath the Commodore had spared him from Keelan. He abhored being interrupted in the middle of planning a campaign, particularly for prattling praise with no suggestion of appreciation for strategy. He seldom had time for sychophants, and never at times such as these.
<"What news from the front, Admiral? And what adjustments need we make? Let us discuss such things over a glass or three.">
Keelan glanced over his shoulder and considered the offer. <"J'un'J'nna mead? I thought we finished your last bottle during the celebrations over the fall of the Chlorostrians?">
The Commodore grinned and began to pour a glass. <"We did. This bottle belonged to a Lietenant-Commander whose son was... not going to pass muster. An arrangement was made. Now his son was transferred to the Southern contingent - I believe he's part of a unit securing the South pole, an assignment I doubt even he could screw up, and his bottle is here quenching our thirst. But enough of such trivialities, what news of the initial incursion?">
The Admiral checked the screens, and turned one off as he walked to the Commodore and took the first poured glass, waiting for the second to be filled as etiquette dictated.
<"Initial bombardment was 97.5% effective across targets. The one they call Icon, that Rod Intelligence informed us about, intercepted the one targeting their city Lost Haven.">
<"But you'd anticipated this possibility, correct Admiral?"> The Commodore asked.
<"I'd anticapted the PROBABILITY."> Admiral Keelan corrected. <"The likelihood that he would spare his home city and divert a lengthy gravity-based ranged attack from an asteroid, was estimated to be about 85-95%. It was a mere shot across the bow, more intending to produce a response than to remove a significant target from the field.">
<"Well, of course. Bombardment has never been the beginning and end of our strategy. There is neither glory nor riches to be had in smashing the prize.">
Keelan downed the glass and placed it on the table awaiting a refill.
<"Exactly. We have scattered their forces to the four winds. Captured their attention, made them watch as meaningful historic locations lie in rubble. Now, we apply pressure. Then, we crush their hope. And then... the final push.">
Commodore Bayla began refilling both glasses, starting with the Admiral's. <"But first, manouevers and applying that pressure.">
Keelan picked up the now full glass and walked back to the holographic display. He murmured and mused, considering the action in the field to date.
<"I'm going to call in extra forces to support the Lost Haven contingent, there appears to be some of this world's splinter-species metahuman "superheroes" amassing in the city center. Likewise, we'll be pulling an additional carrier for more aerial and infantry support from their "New York" region to take care of a situation on a specific street also in Lost Haven. New York has been less trouble than we initially suspected."> Keelan ran his hands over the globe despatching select units.
<"A street?!"> Commodore Bayla could barely contain his amusement.
Keelan murmured again. <"Not just any street. Rod-Intelligence has it marked as the street where the former Rod-Wielder worked for several decades. It's presently being defended, not only by the current Rod-Wielder, but also some human who seems to be armed with some kind of weapon reverse-engineered from rod-technology. Given the strengths of the current Rod-Welder and the previous ones, we assume that weapon was created by the initial Rod-Wielder.">
<"Worked?"> The Commodore seemed stuck between shocked and amused once more.
<"Yes, for some reason the initial Rod-Wielder chose to work and win the adulation of the rest of his species from other means, rather than merely by seizing power and commanding it. It's not the first time Rod-Wielders have done this, many seem bound by the shortcomings of their peoples' customs.">
Keelan finished the drink once more and continued.
<"But that's missing the point. We have a Rod-Wielder who appears to be reverse-engineering the technology of the Rod, and the place where he used to work is now being defended from our forces by another human using one of those reverse-engineered weapons, and the current wielder of the Rod.">
Now it was Commodore Bayla's turn to murmur and muse, as he got to his feet and refilled the Admiral's glass once more.
<"So you're thinking Weapons factory? Some kind of "super-weapon" to use against us which he had long been working on?">
<"I am.">
<"So why not move in Destroyer forces?"> Bayla pointed to reinforcement large ships still kept in orbit and their vast plasma cannons. Ideal for obliterating ground force targets, major ground to air missile sites and the like.
Keelan pondered how to describe the enemy combatants' teal ally. <"Two reasons. First, there's an additional piece of strategic value in the region. This needs to be a precision strike. Secondly, consider me overly sentimental, but it has long been tradition to remove the current Rod-wielder at the Invasion's conclusion. At this point, their destruction has been... almost ceremonial to me.">
"REGROUP!" The Vigilante cried out as the trio saw off yet another wave of aliens.
Dennis was flagging, starting to get tired more from fatigue than specific overexhaustion.
"So how are you going?" The Aquilifer asked their newest ally between deep breaths.
"I feel fine!" Chrissy answered merrily with a big goofy grin.
"Hopefully not too bloody fine..." The Vigilante grumbled through his voice modulator, as he returned to his starting position. Looking both ways down the street and seeing no more alien ships coming he walked down a sidestreet, opened a car door, and with a well timed gravity-affected punch broke the door clear off. He picked it up off the streed and carried it back to his spot.
"Geez, you really do feel fine, don't you?" Dennis said, noticing that Flux had not a drop of perspiration on her brow despite all of this fighting.
Chrissy kept the grin and just offered a shrug as an explanation.
"No, I mean it. I mean she's handling them just as well as we are. If she's one of them, how's she making such short work of them?" The Aquilifer asked, perplexed.
"She's different from them." Was the only answer the Vigilante offered. "Leave it at that. We don't have time to get into it."
"Oh you don't mean..."
"Yeeeep. Here they come." The man in black confirmed as more fighters swept forward from the horizon, and a carrier ship appeared in the distance, presumably dumping alien infantry for the trio to deal with eventually as well.
"Are you kidding me, they don't even give you time to go get a gatorade..." The Aquilifer complained, before flying ahead to drive a solid construct into the first wave of fliers as they's break through the road-block of cars ahead. Making best use of the situation to further bottleneck the street with fallen alien ships.
A few slipped through, squeezing around his construct and scraping against the building's wall. The Vigilante grabbed Flux and put the car door between them and the ship. He heard the screech of their "cannon-fire" and tapped the gravity gauntlet to try and put the weight of a truck behind the fibreglass and steel door that stood between them. It tore through the fibreglass and scorched much of the door, but somehow stopped before teaming through the pair of them. Relief washed over the Vigilante and his joy inspired the ability of flight in Flux once more. He took the scrap metal that was what was left of the door and tried to hurl it at the ship.
This was completely ineffective. He bellowed in frustration, and it's what prompted the rage that allowed Flux to do what came next.
Anger seethed within the teal alien and a diving attack from Arlaaekian ships in tight formation was swiftly terminated as they found themselves caught in a gravity well, pulled into each other and were grounded, with the screech of twisted metal and fiery explosions.
But how long could the three keep this up?
