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Authors: Steven L. Hawk
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something."
Grant couldn't help but laugh. "Exactly, Chin. Take care, and kick some Minith ass. Keep me informed. Out."
Grant checked in on the infantry trailing behind the tanks. They had taken casualties, but not nearly as many as Grant had expected by this point in the battle. The Minith lack of air support, artillery, and armor was a blessing. It appeared as though they were primarily an army of foot soldiers.
"Titan, you there?"
"Just kicking some green alien butt, Little Man." Titan was his normal, pleasant self, but he sounded a bit winded.
"You sound tired. Everything okay?"
"You try keeping up with these big-headed maniacs for thirty minutes! See how well your lungs hold up."
Grant could imagine the Telgorans sprinting tirelessly back and forth across the open battlefield, wreaking havoc on the enemy. It was a pleasant vision. It was even better when he envisioned Titan trying to keep up their pace.
"Are you seeing anything unexpected out there?"
"Not really. We've lost a couple, but we're in good shape for the most part. We've been following a pair of tanks and have just reached the edge of the shipbuilding facility. It will be a street battle from here on."
"Keep the plan in mind. We want to concentrate our focus on four parallel streets. Make sure the other tanks and the rest of the infantry are ready before your team moves out."
"Easier said than done. You know how the Family is; when they get going, they don't stop. But I'll try."
"Do your best. Once you and the rest of the ground forces enter those streets, we'll be on our way. I can't see waiting any longer."
"I'm surprised you waited this long."
"Me too, my friend. Me too."
Grant changed channels again and passed the word to the fighter pilots in the air and to the pilots of the twenty carriers waiting in the mothership. It was almost time for the reserve forces to move out. When the ground forces entered the streets, the fighters were to concentrate on strafing the streets in front of and behind their forces. They were also to keep an eye out for and target any enemy forces on top of or inside the buildings they would pass.
When he closed his channel, Grant looked to Sergeant Conway. "Anything to add, Sergeant?"
"No, sir. Sounds like you've got it all under control."
"I wish that was true, Conway. I really do."
Five minutes later, they were out the bay door, speeding through the air toward the battle line a kilometer to their north.
* * *
Although she could no longer see the human forces on the ground—they were now directly beneath her on the street far below—Rala still caught regular glimpses of the angry flying birds. They had stopped firing at the airborne troop carriers and were now focusing on the individual soldiers as they exited the landing vessels.
On two separate occasions, the impressive enemy aircraft passed right outside her window. Each time, she was forced to cover her ears from the pain of sound, but she did not look away. The craft did not appear so little from a distance of only ten meters, nor did the humans piloting the vessels appear to be sheep.
She was just getting ready to cross to the north side of the building to continue watching the battle on the ground when a movement at the human mothership caught her attention.
The movement turned out to be twenty-one human aircraft. They were larger than the angry birds, but not nearly as fast, as loud, or as lethal-looking. She watched as they split up into four groups and entered the same four streets the human ground forces had entered just ten minutes before. Two of those streets passed to the immediate east of her building and two to the immediate west. She was surrounded, but strangely, felt no fear. She knew they weren't coming for her.
As before, she made another call to report the new activity, then jogged to the north side of the building.
When she reached
Grant couldn't help but laugh. "Exactly, Chin. Take care, and kick some Minith ass. Keep me informed. Out."
Grant checked in on the infantry trailing behind the tanks. They had taken casualties, but not nearly as many as Grant had expected by this point in the battle. The Minith lack of air support, artillery, and armor was a blessing. It appeared as though they were primarily an army of foot soldiers.
"Titan, you there?"
"Just kicking some green alien butt, Little Man." Titan was his normal, pleasant self, but he sounded a bit winded.
"You sound tired. Everything okay?"
"You try keeping up with these big-headed maniacs for thirty minutes! See how well your lungs hold up."
Grant could imagine the Telgorans sprinting tirelessly back and forth across the open battlefield, wreaking havoc on the enemy. It was a pleasant vision. It was even better when he envisioned Titan trying to keep up their pace.
"Are you seeing anything unexpected out there?"
"Not really. We've lost a couple, but we're in good shape for the most part. We've been following a pair of tanks and have just reached the edge of the shipbuilding facility. It will be a street battle from here on."
"Keep the plan in mind. We want to concentrate our focus on four parallel streets. Make sure the other tanks and the rest of the infantry are ready before your team moves out."
"Easier said than done. You know how the Family is; when they get going, they don't stop. But I'll try."
"Do your best. Once you and the rest of the ground forces enter those streets, we'll be on our way. I can't see waiting any longer."
"I'm surprised you waited this long."
"Me too, my friend. Me too."
Grant changed channels again and passed the word to the fighter pilots in the air and to the pilots of the twenty carriers waiting in the mothership. It was almost time for the reserve forces to move out. When the ground forces entered the streets, the fighters were to concentrate on strafing the streets in front of and behind their forces. They were also to keep an eye out for and target any enemy forces on top of or inside the buildings they would pass.
When he closed his channel, Grant looked to Sergeant Conway. "Anything to add, Sergeant?"
"No, sir. Sounds like you've got it all under control."
"I wish that was true, Conway. I really do."
Five minutes later, they were out the bay door, speeding through the air toward the battle line a kilometer to their north.
* * *
Although she could no longer see the human forces on the ground—they were now directly beneath her on the street far below—Rala still caught regular glimpses of the angry flying birds. They had stopped firing at the airborne troop carriers and were now focusing on the individual soldiers as they exited the landing vessels.
On two separate occasions, the impressive enemy aircraft passed right outside her window. Each time, she was forced to cover her ears from the pain of sound, but she did not look away. The craft did not appear so little from a distance of only ten meters, nor did the humans piloting the vessels appear to be sheep.
She was just getting ready to cross to the north side of the building to continue watching the battle on the ground when a movement at the human mothership caught her attention.
The movement turned out to be twenty-one human aircraft. They were larger than the angry birds, but not nearly as fast, as loud, or as lethal-looking. She watched as they split up into four groups and entered the same four streets the human ground forces had entered just ten minutes before. Two of those streets passed to the immediate east of her building and two to the immediate west. She was surrounded, but strangely, felt no fear. She knew they weren't coming for her.
As before, she made another call to report the new activity, then jogged to the north side of the building.
When she reached
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