Chapter One Hundred and Eighty-Two: Clearing the Air (Patreon)

When I announced the numbers on the command channel, there was a moment of quiet.

Pemberley was the first to speak up. “Two million aliens.”

“Yes.”

“At London there were only a quarter of a million.”

“I suppose it’s our lucky day, then,” chuckled Devlin Heath. “We are about to enter a target-rich environment.”

“That’s our people over there!” snapped a voice. “Your target-rich environment is full of American citizens!”

“Colonel Butler, please calm down.” Pemberley’s voice was soothing. “The Stratospheric Guard will send reinforcements as soon as possible. Messages are going out to all your allies, and full Traveler capacity is being earmarked for Tanisport.”

“We just have to hold them off for a few hours,” Donald Green said. “The 121st is ready to take it to the enemy.”

“The enemy outnumbers us twenty to one,” Butler snarled. “And that damn ship crashed in the middle of the city - thousands are trapped nearby. I’ll have to divert troops for search and rescue.”

“Right now we need every soldier focused on containment, Colonel.” Heath’s voice was firm. “Belessar, any count on tanks, rovers, heavy weapons?”

“Not yet…” I stopped in mid-air. “... Except they have Strikefighters.”

“Your sources?”

“My eyes. One just launched from the battleship.” I paused. “Make that three… four…”

“Moving to engage,” Pemberley announced. “Where are they?”

“Radar shows eleven contacts, Colonel!”

More Strikefighters… just what I needed.

I radioed Mahotsukoi. “You okay to get down there yourself?”

“I’ll be fine,” the Japanese ultra replied. “Fast as wind, silent as forest.”

I acknowledged her with a nod, then dived.

In retrospect, that might not have been the best idea.

The Wolf Armour wasn’t aerodynamic. At all. Streaking down from the sky at a speed intended for aircraft generated a lot of heat.

If the Strikefighters had used infra-red missiles, I’d have been a dead man.

Instead, the aliens had fallen prey to the usual mistake made by ground-based species. As Pemberley’s choppers moved to engage them, they looked forward. Not up.

Eight Starfall missiles streaked downwards, each aimed at a different target.

Eight spectacular explosions.

YOU HAVE LEVELED UP! 1 ATTRIBUTE BOOST AVAILABLE.

Absently, I upgraded Perception.

+1 PER. AP INCREASES TO 1720. PP INCREASES TO 2080.

AT 40 PERCEPTION YOU HAVE UNLOCKED THE SKILL ‘DETECT ENEMY’.

PASSIVELY WARNS YOU OF THE PRESENCE OF AN ENEMY.

FOR 1000 AP, 1 HIDDEN ENEMY CAN BE REVEALED.

That would be useful if I needed to spot another Gellatoid, at least. Given its cost, I didn’t see it helping in combat.

My moment of reflection nearly cost me, as a green blast of energy shot by my side. Another Strikefighter had spotted me and climbed to engage.

Which would be less of a problem if I wasn’t out of missiles.

The alien craft fired again, missing by a wider margin as I pushed the thrusters to their max. Still not enough, and the ship was closing fast….

Ooh, a cloud.

I dived in, the white mist obscuring my form slightly.

And then I activated the Stealth Field Generator.

The Strikefighter slowed in mid-air, as if uncertain. Then it started firing at the cloud.

Green beams of light sliced through the water vapour, leaving massive holes in the cloudbank. Without a target to zero in on, the fire was wildly inaccurate, but I couldn’t count on my concealment for long.

Fortunately, I had another option.

A portal opened in front of me, and I dived through.

Emerging right above the Strikefighter.

Gravity asserted itself, and my boots crunched down on the alien craft’s upper surface. At that angle, the ship’s guns couldn’t target me.

The shields of any moving vehicle were usually only a few inches from the body. Less surface area to cover, more effective shield power, and it had the additional advantage of preventing any enthusiasts from accidentally opening a hatch in mid-battle.

However, the designers hadn’t planned for someone to land on the ship mid-flight.

The pilots seemed to take a second to realize what had happened. Then they flipped the craft.

Would be tricky if I didn’t have Levitation.

As I drew the Nanothorn Kukri and started to chip away at the shield, the Hierarchy Strikefighter began to pull off increasingly desperate moves. Rotations. Spins. Flipping over end-to-end. Accelerating, then decelerating.

Sadly for them, I had activated Anchor.

Bucking like a wild bull, the Strikecraft careened across the sky, trying to throw me off while I burned through the shield.

Being anchored, however, wasn’t a perfect defense.

YOU ARE IN CONTINUOUS, RANDOM MOTION. AS LONG AS THIS EFFECT LASTS, YOU WILL BE SUBJECTED TO A VITALITY TEST EVERY 5 SECONDS WITH INCREASING PENALTIES. FAILURE WILL RESULT IN YOUR NAUSEA TANGIBLY EXPRESSING ITSELF.

VITALITY TEST #1: PASSED.

YOU HAVE AVOIDED THROWING UP.

The nausea was getting worse every second. If only something would go my way for a change….

YOU ARE ATTEMPTING TO BREACH AND ENTER A COMBATANT LARGER THAN YOU.

CHEST BURSTER ACTIVATED.

400% INCREASE TO BREACHING DAMAGE.

About time that stupid title was of some use...

In one second, the base damage of the Nanothorn Kukri shot up to 13,800.

And my next Deadly Blow pushed that to 69,000.

Two blows later, the shield was down. The third blow smashed into the Strikefighter’s armour, breaking what I hoped were important things.

HIERARCHY STRIKEFIGHTER: PRIMARY SENSOR SYSTEM OFFLINE.

More blows smashed into it, shattering armor and sending splinters flying all over. Seconds later, the ship had begun to wobble dangerously across the sky, smoke billowing from cracks across the surface.

HIERARCHY STRIKEFIGHTER COOLING SYSTEM OFFLINE.

With another massive blow, something vital seemed to break.

HIERARCHY STRIKEFIGHTER: ENGINESS OFFLINE. CONDITION INFLICTED: CONTROL LOSS. CONDITION INFLICTED: STALL. CONDITION INFLICTED: ANTIGRAV FAILURE.

The ship plummeted downwards, heading for Tanisport a lot faster than I was comfortable.

I released Anchor as the aliens streaked downwards. They reached the city pretty fast.

Admittedly, the spectacular crash was probably not how they planned to make their entrance.

HIERARCHY STRIKEFIGHTER DEFEATED. +100,000 XP.

I stabilized myself in mid-air. The urge to throw up receded.

CONDITION NAUSEA: REMOVED.

"Nine strikefighters down," I radioed in. "Any more targets?"

WARNING: ENEMY DETECTED.

A split second was all I had to throw myself right, as another green bolt sizzled past me.

Two more Strikefighters emerged from the cloud bank.

Not good, not good, not good….

Something slammed into the alien craft, sending it careening.

"Belessar!” a laugh erupted from my radio. "Leave some for the rest of us!"

A blue suit, red cape, and obnoxious attitude….

Supreme had arrived.

Another bodyslam, and the second Strikefighter was in a tailspin of its own. Meanwhile, a massive explosion rocked the first.

"Mongoose here. Target one confirmed hit."

More explosions rocked the alien craft as the missiles of the Rapid Response Division smashed into spinning, out of control strikefighters.

As Supreme slammed into the strikefighter again, it slid into the path of another missile, leaving great, billowing plumes of smoke.

"You're pushing them into the line of fire," I gasped.

Supreme chuckled. "Iron Joe sends me a direction, and I push." A loud crash sounded in the background, as the flying ultra rammed into the strikecraft again.

"Nice."

"Hey, we can't all take out battleships." Supreme grabbed the strikefighter’s shell and pulled, tearing the fuselage apart. “Although this is pretty satisfying itself.”

The broken strikefighter plummeted downwards.

"If you two are done gawking," Pemberley's voice broke in, "we could use some support."

“On my way,” I replied, smiling. It was time to get back on the ground.