Chapter One Hundred and Eleven: And Now, A Word from Our General (Patreon)

The hardest part of a battle is the wait.

Over the course of the next hour, we checked and double-checked our equipment, tuned into the Stratospheric Guard frequency to receive updates, and familiarized ourselves once again with the map of London.

Organized columns of men in varying uniforms marched by us, some in the green of the Brits, some in African khakis, German black-and-greens, Aussie light greens, Irish tans, Indian olive-greens, and Bangladeshi green-and-greys. Tanks and trucks rumbled through the streets, each headed for unknown destinations.

Lumina and the other Tanisport heroes headed off on another assignment. We weren’t left to fend for ourselves, though, as a group of British heroes joined us shortly after.

Bulldog, Animus, Rhodia and Derry were a British superhero team called BARD. Bulldog was powerfully muscled, a strongman who could lift Doyle’s Hummer with one hand - and proceeded to do so as a demonstration, much to the officer’s annoyance. Animus was a Shifter who transformed into a sleek, blue-furred striped tiger. Derry’s gift of enhanced speed made him a deadly knife-fighter, and the man carried two ultra-sharp inventech blades with him - blades which Observe showed were normal in themselves, but took on a razor-sharp edge when in his hands.

Rhodia’s gift, however, was special. “I’m a cognitive,” she explained. “I can detect hidden enemies from a distance and find their locations.”

“That’s pretty useful,” I remarked. “How far does your range go?”

“Close to half a kilometre, so I can help spot snipers. Or hidden enemies.”

Which explained why she needed to be in the field, as opposed to sitting in a support team somewhere and giving coordinates to artillerymen. “You tell us where to shoot, and we’ll shoot.”

“Thanks,” Rhodia grinned. “Bulldog and I have heard a lot about you, by the way.”

“How’d it feel to take apart all those aliens, eh?” Bulldog grinned.

“I wasn’t thinking too much about it,” I confessed. “It was more along the lines of - kill them before they set up a defence grid and turn this place into another Turkmenistan.”

Rhodia nodded soberly. “We couldn’t make it to the rendezvous in time for Liverpool, but when they told us about London we said we had to be here.”

“Sodding bad time to be on vacation,” Bulldog grumbled. “Still, at least we got warned this time, you know? We grew up here, wouldn’t be right to not fight for it.”

“First alien defence?” I inquired.

Bulldog scowled at me, but Rhodia touched his arm. “He’s just asking, hon. Besides, he’s a top thousand ranker, we ought to listen.”

“Sure, sure. Sorry, me temper gets the better of me sometimes.”

“My apologies. This is only my third fight, anyway; I was exactly like you less than a year ago. You know the alien classifications, right?”

“Yeah. We saw the documentary.”

“Basically, try not to get hit, and let the troops and massed fire do the killing. Herculeans - and inventors like me - we pin down the Sarnak or the Raptors, make ourselves the targets and draw fire. Meanwhile, the platoon of troops behind us shoots at the enemy. If we can hold them in position for long enough, we can even call in artillery strikes.”

“Artillery? You mean drop shells in the middle of London?”

“We did it in Liverpool against an alien fighting vehicle. They’re not actually tougher than us, you know; we just have to pin them down and give our firepower the chance to bear. You can batter through any alien’s defences with enough time.”

The two British ultras nodded.

The next person I checked with was Maria. “How’re you feeling?”

“Nervous, mostly. No matter how much we’ve trained, it’s still a little terrifying to know we’re going to be face-to-face with the aliens anytime now.”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re in ten feet of powered armor.”

“And you’re in the same armor I wore for my first battle. Don’t worry about it. How’s ‘Nina’ holding up?”

“She’s actually pretty encouraging. Keeps telling dirty jokes to the girls, keeps their spirits up.”

“... Do I want to know?”

“No, you don’t. Some of those jokes even shocked me.” Maria gave me a look. “You two got something going between you?”

“We're sort of figuring that out.”

“Huh. You be careful, that girl has an incredibly filthy imagination.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You’re fairly athletic, aren’t you?”

“I suppose so, why?”

“No reason. That Sergeant Winford told us there’s almost a million soldiers in London right now, ready to fight the aliens. Will we need that many?”

“All previous alien attacks have been a few hundred Sarnak and Raptors. Best guess we have is that this one might involve thousands, plus maybe a Carnotaur. The Brits want to squash the attackers flat as soon as possible, so they’re hitting them with everything that can be brought to bear. Tanks, aircraft, ultras, everything.”

The communicator in my suit buzzed, the signal for an incoming transmission from the Stratospheric Guard command.

“Stand by,” the announcer said, “for a message from General Edgar Curry, GC, DSO, Chief of Army Staff.”

The dry, clipped tones of Edgar Curry filled the airwaves. “Gentlemen. Good morning to you all, both those who stand in defence our their nation, and those who have come to our aid from across the seas.

“England has stood unconquered for a thousand years, guarded by the valour of British soldiers, sailors and airmen. Today, we face an enemy from beyond the stars, an enemy that comes not to plunder but to enslave, an enemy that would force upon us their perverted system of government, and destroy all the institutions that have made us the nation we choose to be.

“Even as we speak, their ships have breached the shield above our skies, and their shuttles make their way towards London. So I say: Let them come.

“We have faced the Spanish Armada, Napoleon’s fleets, and the Blitz of ‘40. We still stand. We will face this foe, too, and we will continue to stand.

“Let them come. England expects every man and woman to do their duty, and I too shall do mine. I shall stand on this green earth and face the alien, with rifle in hand, as shall every soldier in the service of the United Kingdom, and we shall turn them back today.

“Let the six corners of the universe come in arms today, and we shall shock them. None shall make us rue.”

“Let them come. Trust in your officers and your men, do your duty, and we shall win this fight. Curry out.”

Silence prevailed.

Then, a cheer broke out across the field. First from the British troops standing near us, then from Alpha Platoon, as unit by unit, soldiers and ultras alike began to clap and chant. Gradually, we could hear a roar sweep across the city.

“Curry! Curry! Curry!”

“All right!” snapped Doyle. “Everybody, you heard the General’s orders. The aliens are expected in minutes. Recheck your ammo, and be ready to move at a moment’s notice!”

<Nanocloud>: Did you hear Curry’s speech?

<Belessar>: Yeah, they were chanting for him out here.

<Nanocloud>: In here, too. It’s amazing, everybody was clapping and cheering. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers across the city….

<Belessar>: He just made them believe they could win.

<Nanocloud>: Do you believe it?

<Belessar>: Of course. Let them come.