Chengdu, China
With a triumphant spirit, Huang Yu watched as the latest batch of the alien barbarians surrender from the shattered building in which they were hiding. A large number of soldiers from the People's Army cheered watching their defeated forms emerge with their hands on their chests, tossing their weapons away from them as they did so. Soldiers wearing the special patches of the Ministry of State Security moved through the crowd and arrested the defeated Invaders. Some of the newer soldiers eyed the discarded plasma rifles with envy, believing they would perform better than the weapons left over from the Great Patriotic War. Huang Yu knew better.
Looking around, smiles could be seen all around. Chengdu was the last great city held by the Invaders and with the large apartment blocks cleared of them, the city was free. Many lives had been spent to make it so, and a few cities were wiped off the face of the planet by the Wise Leaders and their decision to use the nuclear weapons. But the most important feat was that the glorious Peoples Republic of China was the first nation in the world to fully eliminate the Druidth threat from it's populated areas.
There was still the issue of the massive Druidth military complex in the Western reaches, but he had faith that the Wise Leaders had a plan to deal with them. Huang Yu did not know that a standard nuclear missile would not work due to the advanced anti-missile defense system around the complex. What he did know was that the Leaders would spend every soldier they had like smothering a flame with more wood until it choked to death.
Men from the MSS separated the surrendered Invaders, sending most of them to the prison camps where their labor would work off their debt to Chinese society. Others, the Aliens with red insignia on their shoulder boards were separated and made to line up facing a wall. From what he heard, they were members of the Kings Guard, the elite politico soldiers of the Alien Monarch.
"You!" A Major from the MSS gestured at Huang Yu and the soldier standing next to him. "You two, come over here."
They looked at each other, Huang Yu recognized him from his unit and believed his name to be Wong or something similar. But they complied and approached the Major.
"Take your weapons and join the line," He ordered. Several soldiers from the People's Army were already lined up, shoulder to shoulder facing the Aliens along the wall. Again, Huang complied.
While he was familiar with what was about to happen, an act reserved for deserters or traitors or those too dangerous to the nation to keep around, it was his first time taking part. He knew what he had to do. When the Major shouted, Huang Yu and the dozen other soldiers raised their rifles. The firing squad easily cut down the Kings Guardsmen, knocking holes in the wall on the other side of them.
Their lifeless bodies crumpled to the ground and left there to rot until city sanitation came by to collect them and toss them in the trash where they belonged.
A celebration was beginning to carry through the streets, soldiers drinking and singing; toasting to the great victory of the People's Army and the next great battle to come. Huang Yu grabbed a bottle of beer for himself from the vendor that was handing them out. The old man had suffered too long at the hands of the Imperialist Invaders and was so glad to be rid of them, so grateful to the brave soldiers, that he was giving away his wares.
The march to western lands would be a long one, as would the battle to take what was called the Citadel. But for now, Huang Yu would celebrate.
Mako Bomber Group
3367th Vyra Squadron
Pride filled her heart. Not only was Keela-Tel Loth piloting her own Mako bomber, but she was also the flight lead for the whole bomber group. Couple that with the fact that she was taking the fight to the murderous rebels and Keela-Tel was positive she was now returning her lost honor to her family. For the whole war, she had sat at an airbase on the continent of Australia, doing essentially nothing. In secret she blamed the poor leadership for not using her and her planes to the best of their capabilities.
But now...now they were doing their part for the King and Vasgyhrr.
"Pilot, adjust course three degrees south." Nor-Ta, the navigator told her. Unbeknownst to her, Druidth bombers were very much like Human ones. Two pilots sat at the nose of the plane with the navigator/radio operator behind them. Below and in the very tip of the nose was the bombardier who used their instruments to determine the precise time to drop the payload.
"Affirmative," She replied, tilting the control yoke just barely to the left. The large aircraft responded and drifted back onto the proper course.
Looking out the windows she could see the IFF tags of the other planes in the strike group, their bodies outlined and highlighted on the windscreen by the computers. Two other planes traveled with her, carrying similar payloads as well as nearly twenty tsi-tai fighters. What they could do if the enemy detected them early and sent a large enough force to intercept them remained to be seen. And if she had a choice, Keela-Tel would choose not to find out.
The night sky was beautiful at 40,000 feet; flying so high that there was essentially no atmosphere to blur her view of the stars. If she knew where to look, she could faintly make out her home star. She was getting stiff, shifting in her seat she tried to make herself a bit more comfortable. It was Royal Air Corps regulations that the pilot not leave her seat until the payload was delivered. After that the copilot could take over and fly them home. But until then, she remained where she was. No matter how full her bladder got.
Taking off from Australia, they flew across the great expanse of the largest ocean this planet had to offer. Below her it was nothing but endless black water. The Mako held enough fuel to make it to their destination but they would have to make a refueling stop shortly after striking their target.
Nor-Ta's voice filled her ears again, breaking the silence. "Pilot, we are approaching the target. Five minutes."
"Affirmative. Handing control over to Bombardier." Keela-Tel adjusted the settings on her console and the computer switched control over the aircraft over to the Bombardier, Nika-All Holf. He would bring them to drop zone and release the payload when ready.
Exactly five minutes later, a testament to the skill of Nor-Ta's navigational skills, she felt the aircraft get several tons lighter as the single bomb in the bay fell to the planet below. Immediately after control defaulted to her command and Keela-Tel pushed the throttle to the redline, turning the craft as hard as she could to escape the blast radius. When the powerful Graviton Bombs detonated it could snatch the craft out of the sky.
Three of the destructive devices fell to the surface, detonating at the same time. The overpressure killed every living thing around while the blasts leveled buildings for miles. One bomb could tear the heart out of a city. Three bombs could wipe it off the map, leaving only debris and death behind.
When they were far enough away from danger, Keela-Tel handed control over to her copilot and eased herself off to the lavatory to relieve herself. The American city of San Francisco, captured by Druidth shock troopers early in the war only to be retaken by Marines was now nothing more than rubble, the iconic Golden Gate Bridge a crumpled heap in the water.
Keela-Tel did not know that hers was not the only strike group to make such a journey. Salt Lake City, Helena, Boise, Las Vegas, and Portland were leveled as well. The aircraft sent on those runs were shot down after their bombs fell, the element of surprise lost. Seattle, Los Angeles, and Mexico City were spared their fate by equal parts luck and vigilant radar operators who followed up on the faint blips their sets found.
Druidth bombers would have delivered the same fate to the great cities of Europe, those not held by Druidth hands, but even their planes could not travel so far. And keeping them in the air for such a long time was simply begging for them to be intercepted.
Lancaster, Philadelphia
The more things change, the more they stay the same. Throughout the ages there has always been one answer to the question of what to do with those you don't want around but can't outright kill. You work them. If they die from their labors, then you replace them with someone else who refused to submit to your rule. However, you do it, whatever you use them for, you also have to have a way to motivate your new slave workforce. You can kill those that refuse, you can starve them, or you can just beat them.
Behind her, the whip cracked just before it tore into Julia's back. She screamed in pain and stumbled, but not falling. For the past months she had been a prisoner in the Druidth workforce. And she had learned that if you fell, all the guards would do is whip you until you got back up. For all of their supposed sophistication and all of their superiority, the Druidth and their Loyalist lackeys must have learned their brutality from the SS at Buchenwald or Mauthausen. While conditions were better, they were not better by much. She felt to be in the same book as the countless political prisoners that filled the Soviet Siberian Gulags. They worked for twelve hours a day, were fed only twice a day and it was barely enough to fill their empty, ravenous stomachs, and if they did anything wrong they would catch a beating.
Julia stuck her shovel into the dirt again and again, satisfying the guard that had whipped her enough for him to move along. When he could no longer see her, Julia fell into the groove of work that slaves of any time could understand, doing just enough work to not draw the guards notice.
Learning from their mistakes of the Malcolm Line, the Druidth in the major cities on the Eastern Seaboard had taken those who would not pledge loyalty to the King and forced them to build defenses in and around the city, turning them into fortresses. There was rumored to be another defensive line that ran from Richmond, Virginia to Montreal, Quebec, and was built in depth this time. She worried about the soldiers coming to liberate her. Many would die taking these cities.
A particularly cruel Loyalist guard made his way back around to where Julia was digging. She picked up the pace before he saw her. Fearing his gaze, she worked harder. He could beat her and no one would care, rape her where she stood and not cause a ruckus, or simply shoot her. Remembering what he had done to her friend, it was all too tempting to bash him over the head with her shovel. But if she did, her death would be swift.
All she could do, all she could hope for, was wait for the liberating armies to get there. Until that happened... She continued to shovel.
USS Threshold
While he was not aware of the comment made about the ship by the Druidth High Command in Australia, Castle was pleased to see himself, and the ship, as just that. A coiled serpent waiting to strike. The Druidth Navy were forced to rethink their strategy, the same strategy that had served them well for hundreds of years. Usually they scattered about the orbit of the planet, delivering supplies as they were needed to the ground troops. But with the Threshold around, things were different. They had already claimed two of the cargo freighters destroyed, forcing the rest of the fleet to consolidate where the few warships they had with them could protect them. The Threshold was old, strong enough to go against lightly armed cargo freighters but would be quickly out matched by the newer warships they had protecting them.
So, he was content to wait; floating around Earth's orbit with the systems on minimum power until a shuttle craft came up too close. Then the cannons powered up and the little ship was shot down before the Threshold slipped just inside the atmosphere to evade any pursuing radar signals.
"If only the damn guard dogs would leave the sheep alone," He breathed. The bridge was fully staffed but with all but the most essential systems shut down there was little for them to do. If the warships left, even for a short amount of time, the Threshold could dive toward the flotilla of cargo ships and do serious damage. But that was foolish; there was no way they would leave.
Thus he rubbed his head and settled back into his captain's chair, thinking of a new way to help the war effort. Here they were with the most advanced weapon in Human history and they could barely use it to pick off the occasional shuttle. It was akin to using a nuke to kill a mosquito.
Castle thought about going to the Middle Deck and joining in the Zero-G ball game that was going on. The crew invented the rules on their own and it had become a sensation across the ship seemingly overnight. Star athletes had quickly emerged as had teams and rivalries. It was odd that the Druidth had never thought to create a similar game.
When there wasn't a game on, and a crewmember found themselves with down time, they could watch Druidth movies saved in the mainframe computer, by now they had all become fluent but it still took some explaining by the Druidth crewmembers to fully understand the themes behind the films.
"Kant," Castle called to the Druidth Operations Officer. "How far will a shell fired from the ship travel?"
With a perplexed look, Kant explained. "I believe you call it Newton's Law. They will not cease their trajectory until they either impact something or receive the detonation code from the ship."
With this new bit of information, Castle leaned back in his chair and mulled over what he could do. The Fire Control Officer would have to be extra careful plotting the firing solution; but with the massed ships in the flotilla getting a hit was more than likely even with the space between each ship.
But the same issue presented itself: how to do so without having the Threshold destroyed? The Guard Dogs, as Castle had come to think of them, were going to be faster than the outdated vessel, and could shoot more accurately as well. Their crew were also more skilled and better trained than the Humans that were manning the captured ship. Without a doubt he knew they could shoot on the move instead of having to come to a stop.
The only answer was to fire at extreme range and begin moving away as fast as possible. That could give them one or two salvos at most.
But where to run to? Away from Earth obviously. Castle reminded himself that this was as similar to submarine warfare as could be. It was what he was trained to do, fire on the enemy then slip away in the confusion in the hopes that he will live long enough to do it again. And if he was being honest with himself, he was a little excited to be the first man to travel further than the moon. If they had to fly all the way to Saturn, the most beautiful planet in his opinion, to escape their pursuers then that was just fine.