Survivor Andromeda pp. 82-111

Chapter 12

Louie spotted a vine above their heads. "We need to get a hold of that." He reached for the sinewy line. His outstretched fingers were three inches short. Simon was sinking fast--his body was now almost half-way submerged.

"Don't panic," shouted Caleb. "That's the most important thing."

"I'll remember that when I'm sucking down sand in 10 seconds," Simon responded.

"Here, take this," Matt said handing Louie a machete. "Reach up and see if you can snag it."

"Okay, I will," Louie responded.

"Just be careful," Bryan said. "A lunge like that'll sink you more. You only get one shot."

"Thanks for letting me know," Louie replied nodding.

The survivalist concentrated on the vine. It was about three feet above his head. He planned his move before slicing at the natural cordage. He then swung his arm. The blade caught the vine, cutting it nearly all the way through. It now only hung by a thread, but it still wouldn't fall.

"Damn!" Louie shouted.

"It's almost there," Bryan said. "We just need to hit it with a rock or something."

Louie saw a stone at the edge of the pit. Unfortunately it was surrounded by other sand putting it beyond the others' reach. He decided that he could just get to it if he lunged, but there was, indeed, no room for error. The dive would sink him deeper--far below where he'd have to be to grab hold of it. He turned his shoes in the mud as far as he could so his entire frame was pointed right at the rock. The fall involved in reaching it would leave him only moments from being sucked down completely into the sand. Stretching over as far as he could, he obtained the asset, but now sunk even farther. His torso was now submerged up to his chest.

"Can you throw it from there?" Gail asked.

"I can try... haven't pitched since high school."

"Alright, make it count," Gail said.

Louie took careful aim at the vine. He moved his arm as far back as it would go and released the stone. The throw succeeded, knocking the vine lose. Louie grabbed it. He began hoisting himself up into the tree. He then shimmied along a branch.

"Alright, time to get the other Jungle Hunt player out of the muck," Matt said. "This vine isn't long enough to reach him. Cut it down and we'll throw it to him."

Louie diced the vine off the tree. He brought the cord along with him as he crawled down the lower branches and dropped to the ground. He then tossed the line to Simon. The tech began walking up the length of the cord. He was now close enough to the edge that he had one foot on solid ground. Suddenly, however, something grabbed at his shoe--he was going backwards.

"I'm being pulled down again!" Simon shouted.

"What are you talking about?" Bryan asked.

"There's something alive in there... and it's got my foot."

"Holy Shit," Gail exclaimed. "What are we gonna' do?"

"We've gotta' destroy it," Caleb announced.

"How, it's under the sand?" Louie shouted.

"I'm gonna' go down there and kill it whatever it is," Bryan said.

"Okay," the rest of the survivalists replied in unison. They admired his uncharacteristic bravery. No one was gonna' protest such a gesture.

Bryan reached down and grabbed the machete that Louie'd tossed to the ground. He took a deep breath before plunging headfirst into the sand. As he dove down under the muck, he felt around for Simon's leg. Finding it, he traced his hand along the limb until he got to his ankle. He could now feel the creature's head moving side to side with its mouth clamped down on Simon's shoe. He feared that at any moment the animal might decide that his hand appeared to be a more appetizing meal than the cameraman's leg. Simon's face was now nearly full submerged in the muck, forcing him to hold his breath. As Bryan took the machete and slashed drove it into the creature's brain, he felt a hot wet substance ooze up through the sand. Paydirt! The grip on Simon's foot disappeared. The tech spit out the sand that he'd swallowed and pulled himself along the vine gasping for air. Bryan came up right behind him breathing twice as hard. The marine continued to wheeze as the other survivalists dragged him out of the mud.

Just as they'd all freed themselves from the sand pit, the entire group of survivalists heard that sound of rocket thrusters. They looked up to see an alien ship descending into the planet's lower atmosphere.

"Time to get to that jalopy!" Caleb shouted.

Minutes later, the survivalists had reached the craft. Matt, Louie and Simon climbed into the cockpit. Before joining them inside the rust bucket, Caleb, Bryan and Gail rushed back to the grounded SA mothership and gathered whatever resources hadn't been destroyed in the crash. They then darted again towards the dilapidated alien bird. Inside the cockpit, the other survivalists worked to bring the dead craft back to life, cleaning debris off the ship's dashboard and clearing the dirt that had caked in the ignition mechanism.

"Alright, give me the rock," Louie said to Matt.

"Let's just hope this works... and quick," said Caleb as he along with Bryan and Gail darted through the ship's entrance portal and joined the other survivalists at the front of the craft.

"It'll work," Matt said. "It's got to."

"Okay, well here goes nothing," said Louie as he inserted the stone into the dashboard's circular orifice.

There was nothing but silence. Everyone looked down.

"Shit, they're here!" Gail announced.

Chapter 13

The aliens had already landed. They disembarked from their ship and were now running right for them.

"You keep working, I'll try to hold them off," Matt said grabbing the gun he'd put down on the dash next to him. He rushed to the door and hit the release. He leaned out of the ship entrance and began firing at the inhabs. The aliens ducked behind a set of trees 25 meters in the distance. One circled around and hid behind a large rock just beyond the rear of the ship.

"I can't hold them off much longer," Matt said as the inhabs slowly advanced closer and closer towards their craft.

Louie kept manipulating the stone, shifting it into different positions within the cradle. Suddenly, there was a rumbling sound. A light on the console started to flicker. Moments later, the ship began to roar.

"It worked!" Caleb shouted, expressing the mutual surprise of the entire group.

A few more blasts from the laser kept the aliens from storming the ship long enough for the thrusters to kick into action. Matt retreated and joined his buddies at the helm. The craft slowly began lifting off the ground. Soon Louie was able to start guiding them out of the planet's airspace. The survivalists had soon escaped from firing range. The aliens' anger at having lost their targets once more was growing to a boiling point. They holstered their weapons and began heading back to their own ship.

"Wait, why are we letting those fuckers get away?" Matt queried his compatriots as they continued climbing out of the planet's upper atmosphere. "As soon as they get back to their ships, they're gonna' follow us."

"So what?" Bryan asked. "Do you want to go back and take them on in a dog fight?"

"Well, we do have firepower," Caleb said gesturing at the console. "If we could get back to them before they take off again, we'd have the advantage."

"In an alien ship, with a pilot who's never flown combat?" Bryan asked.

"All the more reason," Simon said. "Matt's right. The second they can get airborne, they'll be back on our tail."

Bryan sighed. This time Louie did the same moments later.

"Okay, maybe you should test this shit out, first," Matt said looking at the control panel.

Louie nodded. He moved the laser targeting scope until he had a healthy chunk of space debris in his crosshairs. He then let out an enormous blast that decimated the asteroid.

"Well, I'm sold," Caleb said swiveling his head.

"Yup," Gail added in agreement.

"Looks like we got ourselves a Maverick here," Bryan said patting Louie on the back. "Let 'er rip, Tom!"

"Alright, hold on," Louie said as he swung the bird around into a sharp 180-degree turn.

Coming back around the area they'd just left, they were approaching the alien ship just as the inhabs began to take their craft skyward. "Okay, why don't you try to get a little closer before taking a shot," Gail said.

Louie brought the flying bucket in tighter. They were two miles feet away when he finally let a report go. The blast missed, but notified Goliath that David was throwing down a gauntlet. The aliens took the craft on a nosedive and then shifted hard right. Louie tried to match the motions of the alien bird, but he lacked even a rudimentary command of the alien fighter's maneuvering power. After the first 200 miles of a pursuit attempt, they'd moved far out of the survivalist's sight.

"Where'd they go?" Bryan asked.

The entire group looked out through every window of the fighter, but the craft was nowhere to be found.

"Maybe they're not gonna' bother with us now that we're off their turf," Matt said.

"Or they could be waiting for us 500 miles up ahead," Bryan said pointing out of the ship's glass panes.

10 minutes later, the enemy craft appeared behind them once again--but this time not alone. It was now accompanied by six other alien ships.

"Oh, fuck," Matt said. "They brought their posse along."

"We have to lose them," Simon announced. "If they even pick up on the direction we're heading, they could potentially fill in the rest of the map themselves."

Louie immediately attempted to shoot their rig into hyperspace. The maneuver worked, but even being able to command the bucket's full warp speed potential was no use. The 2.0 ships' capability was eons behind the new models. The battalion stayed right behind them.

"It doesn't look like they're interested in piggy backing off our trajectory," Caleb said. "I think they just want to kill us."

"Copy that," Louie responded attempting as many 45 degree turns as he could without stalling the craft. The ships remained right behind them, and now one of them began firing at the survivalists.

"Shit, they're shooting at us," Gail screamed.

"Just keep up the bob and weave," Bryan said.

"If we get too far off course, we'll never find our way back!" Simon shouted. He and Louie were just barely keeping their nav on track as it was. A few thousands miles further and they'd be feeling their way blindly through the recesses of the Andromeda.

"That's true," Caleb said, "but if we're dead we can't do earth or ourselves much good, can we?"

"What if we tried to lose them in the wormhole? Shouldn't we be getting close to it by now?" Gail asked.

"Not really," Simon said looking at the chart. "But there might be another shortcut."

Simon looked at the manual he'd laid out on the ship's console. "According to this map, there's a black hole coming up in 30,000 miles. It might be our one chance to get them off our ass."

"The wormhole was one thing," Caleb said. "But a black hole... a collapsed star? With infinite density? I mean light can't even get through it. Wouldn't this ship would be toast before we'd made it 10 feet inside?"

"Probably...."

"Probably, great!" Matt exclaimed.

"But not definitely," Simon continued. "The real danger comes from the pressure exerted by the sides of the singularity. If we could travel straight down the center of it, we might be able to make it. Try to imagine the ship as a basketball flying through a hoop. We just have to avoid touching the rim.

"And what if we do?" Gail asked.

"We disintegrate," Simon responded.

"Okay, then bro," Matt said putting his hand on Louie's shoulder. "It's time to ball."

Chapter 14

Louie crossed himself. He nodded his head, thinking of his wife and children as he set his focus on not bricking the craft into tiny pieces. He had to dodge a few more rounds of the alien's artillery as they approached the hole. "Okay, here we go," the pilot said as they grew closer to the intergalactic orifice.

As soon as they passed through the entrance to the structure, the entire craft began shaking violently. Everyone held on to the side of their seat. A worm hole was one thing. A black hole was an entirely different animal. As the team made their way through the enormous cavern, they could feel the vibrations growing increasingly brutal the moment the craft slipped the slightest bit off course.

Bryan turned around and looked out the rear window. He could see the enemy ships begin to combust into tiny fragments. "Eat shit, toads!"

The survivalists' craft continued rattling vociferously but remained intact. They were growing closer and closer to the spin cycle's far end. Louie gave his compatriots a second advisement. "Okay, folks, this part's gonna' be sketchy."

"As opposed to the swan boat ride we've been on," Gail responded.

Simon looked back at the survivalists. "The turbulence caused by the combination of the density and the air pressure at the edge of the singularity is gonna' be the roughest part."

"You mean like when a plane goes through a storm?" Caleb asked.

"More like when a plane goes through a tornado," Louie responded from the pilot's chair.

The ship's seatbelts that had kept them anchored thus far through their little detour weren't designed for the kind of traction they were about to face. The rumbling they'd experienced thus far increased until it became a precipitated jolting. Screws and lug nuts keeping the interior of the craft together appeared to be coming lose.

The survivalists were soon ripped from their chairs and thrown to back of the ship. Bryan twisted his ankle as his leg hit the ceiling of the ship. Caleb summersaulted rearward slamming his head into the back wall. "Man am I going to feel that in the morning," he said lying on the ship's floor rubbing the top of his scalp.

Finally, they came out of the other side of the black hole. The violent shaking gradually decreased as they continued out of the entity's liminal border.

"We made it," Louie shouted as he continued to pilot through the empty expanse of his own galaxy's outer reaches.

Gail climbed back into her seat and turned around. "Still got a bogie on our tail," she exclaimed. "And it's a big one."

The one craft that had made it through the singularity behind them was an alien mothership.

"Shit, how the hell did something that big he get through the hole?"

"Same way we did most likely," said Caleb.

"Maybe he studied that relativity shit back up where the rest of his peeps are at," Matt said.

"Well, however he did it, we need to lose his ass or we're still gonna' be ground beef," Bryan exclaimed.

The mothership appeared to be pulling the survivors' craft back.

"Fuck," Louie said. "Looks like they're trying to requisition our guidance services involuntarily. They're sucking us in."

"We can't let that happen," Gail said.

"We can try to lose 'em in these rocks," said Louie as they approached another belt.

"We're not gonna' survive more asteroids," Bryan shouted. "We barely made it through the last set."

"He's right, Lou," Caleb said. "Not to take anything away from your piloting abilities, but we can't risk another obstacle course."

"Then I guess we've got one choice," Louie said. "We need to drive our friend straight into one of those rocks."

"And exactly how you gonna' do that?" Bryan asked.

"Chicken," Louie replied.

"Chicken?" Caleb queried repeating Louie's statement.

"We're gonna' lead ET right up to the edge of disaster and then serve him with it."

"What do you mean?" asked Bryan.

"We have to make it look like a suicide mission," Louie responded. "The inhabs gotta' believe we're ready to risk a crash and burn rather than being taken alive."

"How close do you think we can get to the asteroid?" Simon asked.

"Probably three, four thousand feet."

"You think you can turn away that quickly?" Gail asked.

"I don't know. I've never flown a ship with an ignition stone," Louie said gesturing towards the energy source. "But it's our only chance."

"I say we do it!" Bryan exclaimed with one more thought of Daphne.

The ship's passengers all braced for the potential impact--not that it'd last very long.

Louie took the ship out of warp to give the stunt he'd planned a chance. As they approached, they could all see the details of the crevices in the rock. Finally, Louie swung the wheel and the spacecraft turned violently to the right. The bogey on their tail was obviously not expecting such a maneuver. It tried to swing itself away from the center of the asteroid. For a moment it appeared to the survivalists that it was about to steer clear of the rock, when suddenly the end of its wing clipped an outcropping section of the stone mass. This entire portion of the craft was sheered off. The inhab ship went careening into another asteroid and lit up in a giant fireball. The survivalists could feel the heat of the explosion against the window of their bird.

"Well, hopefully that's it," Matt said. "Now we just have to stay on course and we should be back to big blue before another lizard gets the drop on us."

"Well, how much further do we have?" Caleb asked.

"About another 150 billion miles," Louie replied.

"Cat nap," Matt responded.

Meanwhile, one of the inhab ships now stationed on earth coasted over a northern Texas cornfield. Two farmers watched as one of the doors of a craft opened and a pair of the aliens exited. The creatures stood gazing at the crops. One of the inhabs bent down and ran his hand through the soil. Another ripped a plant out of the ground and examined the length of the stalk. The two aliens then returned to their ship. From there, they called in their discoveries to the mothercraft.

In response to the occupation, military attaches had met at a secret base in Washington. The Air Force had planned a simultaneous attack on the ships that had destroyed a good deal of New Mexico and were now making their way outward in both directions across the Southwest. Were this mission successful, they would dispatch other fighters to the additional battalions that had gathered in other parts of the region. Five F-16s took off from in Vance Air Force Base in northern Oklahoma and headed towards a collection of alien cruisers stationed in areas near Custer City. When the captain gave the word, the planes let loose a series of Tomahawks at the crafts. After the artillery shells hit their mark, the pilots surveyed the outside of the ships to establish what impact the weapons had had. This assessment proved unduly difficult--there were no dents on the ships large enough for them to catalogue.

Following this dawning recognition of the capabilities the enemy forces possessed, American leaders immediately began informing other global leaders. Of course, a number of countries offered to send troops to aid with the effort. American generals universally warned them not to do so.

"We're defenseless against them," Edward McAvoy, a Brigadier General stationed at Fort Sill in Lawton, OK informed the Prime Minister of China. "Sending forces in would only lead to more casualties."

The same message was relayed to African, European and South American leaders. These administrators could only sit and wait for their own countries to face the same fate as America. Shoring up resources for refugees to hide from the onslaught was the best they could do at the moment. It soon became clear that plotting a strategy of resistance was a waste of the little time they had left.

Back on board the hijacked alien ship, Simon had temporarily taken over the helm. The survivalists milled around the designated dining area--if that's actually what it was rather than some experimental laboratory--the rodent-like cuisine of the former ship's operators had disintegrated to skeletons. The current crew had collected these remains along with the other detritus aboard the ship and deposited all of it in a cargo bay at the rear.

"What are you gonna' do if we make it back to earth alive?" Bryan asked Louie as he took a seat next to him.

"Let my wife know I love her. Take my kids to the park. What about you?"

"Tell my girlfriend I'm ready to marry her," Bryan answered. "And you, Matt? You still planning on getting hitched?"

"I'd love to man, but that's the last thing I'm thinkin' about right now."

"Wouldn't it be great if this plague didn't stand between us and all these Hallmark moments," Gail said. "Not looking forward to facing what's waiting for us back there," she continued shaking her head.

"Come onaHHh

Com eon, haven't we done enough?" Bryan asked.

Caleb looked at him. "Weren't you the one saying you missed the action?"

"Action like running recon in the Middle East. Not like trying to protect our planet from lizards who already have our number."

"We started this," Gail said.

"No, the folks at Clarke started this. We're just what's left of this whole fiasco."

"Ah, but remember we got the plans to the Death Star," Matt said.

"Just cause we happen to know these frogs' little secret doesn't mean that we need to be on the front lines down there. For all we know, they could've already wiped out half our planet."

"That means the other half'll appreciate you more," Caleb said. "You could really sleep at night just whispering our little secret to Uncle Sam and then going AWOL?"

"Sure could," Bryan replied sitting back and slurping a tube of freeze-dried spaghetti.

A week later, the group had nearly exhausted their food and water supply. Luckily for them, they were within two days of earth. They began rationing the little they had left. They knew they would have to space out their resources until they were finally able to land, wherever and however that might occur. Famished and feeling helpless thinking about their home planet's armed forces engaging with an enemy the gang knew these militaries'd be incapable of contending with, the days bypassing vacuous expanses of the Milky Way began to feel endless.

It was for this reason that Louie's announcement that they were approaching their home planet, that earth was in a quarter day's journey scarcely felt real to the travel weary band. At a distance of only 500,000 miles away, Louie began giving his compatriots the low down about their reentry. "Okay, we'll be hitting earth's atmosphere in about three hours. It looks like we'll be landing somewhere in Russia."

"You ever do this before?" Simon asked

"Yup, but not with anything this size. I'm just gonna' try gliding in on an angle and ease our way along the exosphere. I'm thinking that if we fire up this baby's retro-rockets at just the right moment, it will slow us down the same way that reverse thrusters kill a plane's speed when it hits the runway."

The survivalists ate their last meal as the ship continued on its course towards the upper atmosphere at break-neck velocity.

"There she is," Gail said, a tear forming in her eye as the earth's surface gradually grew into sharper and sharper focus. Soon their home planet's blues and greens began to appear vividly to them through the cockpit window.

"Okay, here we go." Louie brought the craft down in a gradual descent. It glided miles above the Russian steppe as they slowly made their way earthward towards the former Soviet region's troposphere. "According to this map," he began, "there's a Ukrainian air base 15 miles from here," he said pointing to a dot on the schematic.

Just at that moment, a loud rumbling sound could be heard coming from one of the engines. The turbulence from the atmospheric pressure had knocked out one of their engines. The ship suddenly stalled. It began to rotate rapidly.

"Oh shit," Louie shouted.

"What is it?" Bryan asked.

"Ugg," Gail said right before throwing up into the dinner pouch she held. One by one the survivalists held up the packages of their former cuisine to catch the projectile vomit that they spewed as a result of the ship's unrelenting tailspin.

The craft continued turning violently as they dropped precipitously towards the earth's surface.

"We've got the chutes from the transports," Simon announced.

"We're never gonna' be able to make it out spinning this fast," Gail said. "The centripetal force is gonna' pin us right into these walls."

"I can try to decrease the yaw," Louie said.

"What the fuck is yaw?" Bryan asked.

"It's the spin... I'm gonna' try to offset it by increasing one of our other engine's thrust. Louie jacked up the booster. Now the rear rocket spewed flames double time causing the ship to jolt.

"One more problem," Matt said. "We're gonna' be way off course. If we parachute out of here we'll be at least four miles from our target. We don't have any more time to waste hiking to that compound."

"Well, we don't have much choice," Caleb explained. "If wait any longer we're gonna' slam right into the ground."

Louie had parachuted many times before. Yet, he always hated it. His sensitive stomach didn't gel with the sensation of free fall. He began to grow light-headed. He could feel himself close to passing out.

Everyone in the group rushed back to grab the chutes and strapped in.

"You need to wait 30 more seconds," Louie said. "You jump any earlier and the altitude alone might knock you out. You have to go one at a time. With mountains down there, and six of us that means we've got a small window."

The survivalists along with the tech nodded their heads. "Okay, once you're all out," Louie said, "I'm gonna' drop the wheel and let this bird coast. She's gonna' be heading nearly straight down so angle yourself east to avoid the fireworks. There's gonna' still be a lot of G-force gluing you to the side of the ship. Crawl your way towards the hole and I'll push you out."

"Who's gonna' push you out, Lou?" Gail asked.

"Don't worry about me," Lou said. "I've got this."

The passengers all moved to the front of the craft. One by one they clawed their way along the interior of the craft until they were close enough to the exit so that Louie's push was enough force to propel them out of the portal. Louie swiped his hand in front of a sensor to slid the alien craft's door open.

Within half a minute, each survivalist and Simon found themselves plummeting downward. Finally, Louie stood at the threshold of the entrance. After shoving Bryan, the last of his passengers out the door, he went back to the controls. He set an autopilot heading to ensure that the ship would continue to coast as far westerly as its kamikaze dive would allow. He then made his way back to the exit hatch. Just as he was about to jump, an air pocket that the craft hit as it dove caused a trajectory shift in the steadily falling bird's descent. He was rudely thrown up against the ceiling of the dropping ship.

Down below, the other survivalists and Simon all picked themselves up off the ground--each of them had landed on the cold surface of the steppe with only a modicum of bumps and scrapes.

"Where's Louie?" Caleb asked as he fought with the tangled ropes of his chute.

"I don't think he got out," Gail said.

Chapter 15

The group watched in horror as the plane went behind a mountain in the distance and crashed beyond their line of sight. Smoke soon came billowing up from the explosion. The five paratroopers all just stood and stared at the plumes of grey ash.

"We've gotta' get to that army base," Matt said to his colleagues on the other side of the mountain after the moment of silence they'd observed for their fallen comrade. "Or some place 'round here where people at."

Bryan surveyed the immediate vicinity. "We're probably seven miles from that compound and, I'd say, at least four or five from the nearest town."

"If we head to that crest, we can at least check out where we are," Caleb suggested.

The group hoofed it up to the top of the ridge. It was freezing. None of them had experienced temperatures that cold anywhere on Caelestis. As they made their way along the ridge, they looked down at the blackened trees and the broken remnants of the alien ship that

filled the crash site.

Simon pointed out a river in the distance. "If we follow that water we should hit a town eventually."

The group all took one last look at the wreck before continuing down towards the water. They followed the bank until they reached a small town. It was in the Ukrainian city of Truskavets.

"Wow, civilization!" Caleb said. It was the first people they'd seen outside of their producers and the SA crew in over a month.

The survivalists headed inside the first restaurant they came to. Their tattered clothes drew a lot of stares from the other patrons.

"Do you speak English?" Gail asked the maitre d.

Recognizing only the word 'English,' the employee shook her head. She held up her finger and returned with the restaurant manager.

"We're the survivalists from the program Survivor Andromeda," Gail said to the balding Ukrainian man. "Our ship crashed in the woods about three miles from here. We need to get in contact with the American military."

The manager looked at the five people standing in front of him. He could only understand every other word that the visitor was saying. However, this was enough for him to piece together what the woman was attempting to explain to him. He knew only tidbits of what America was experiencing as a result of the invasion. Still, he thought to himself, it would be quite amazing if they were really who this American said they were. The condition of their outerwear added some credibility to their story. If they were lying, it'd at least be an amusing anecdote. On the other hand, if they were in earnest, dismissing them could cost uncalculatable numbers of lives. "Okay," he finally said. "You stay here. I call police." With that he turned around and returned to his office.

Fifteen minutes later, two Ukrainian cops showed up at the restaurant. Gail retold her story. One of the men, also skeptical, radioed his headquarters.

"Please to follow me," he said in English as broken as the maitre d's.

The officers led the group out of the bistro. There was a squad car parked out there. The police motioned for the survivalists to climb aboard. The vehicle was designed to hold five passengers--theoretically. Caleb squeezed in next to the cop in the front seat. The other four SA folks pulled their arms and legs in. Four people in the back was a tight fit. Bryan fought every impulse to offer Gail his lap.

Arriving at the police station, the survivalists filed out of the clown car and into the precinct. The sergeant sat the members of the bedraggled troupe down in his office.

"Who do you need to speak to?" he asked in the first full sentence of English they'd heard since returning to their planet.

"We need to get in touch with a general in the United States Army," Caleb said.

"What is the reason you have for this?" the cop asked.

"We know how to beat the aliens," Matt replied.

With this explanation, the sergeant picked up his phone and contacted the Pentagon in Washington. A secretary answered the phone.

"Hello," said the official. "I have a very important message for your general."

The assistant patched him through to Eliot Thornwick, a Five Star General, who'd been commanding American forces against the invasion.

"One second," he said after the officer picked up the phone and put Gail on the line.

"General Thornwick, this is Gail Howard. I'm one of the participants in the Survivor Andromeda show that was being filmed on the planet Caelestis. We managed to pilot an enemy ship back to earth and we've crashed in the Ukraine. We're contacting you to let you know we've learned the invaders' weakness. The substance of their armor is made from a protective shell that's impenetrable by artillery, but the fibers become pliant almost immediately at an elevated temperature gradient. We fought them on Caelestis. We were able to cut through the protective covering after just few brief moments of sustained heat."

"Okay, thank you," the general replied. He felt slightly humbled to be getting strategic advice from one of the reality TV stars. Afterall, SA had been a global phenomenon before the American brass started calling for the producers' heads--both in the heavens and out in LA. "I'll let the other force leaders know," he said before ending the call.

Following this interaction's conclusion, the sergeant had his deputy shuttle the group to a local airport. From there they boarded a plane to Moscow, where they would be put on connecting flights back to the US.

What Louie's friends didn't know was that just before the ship had crashed, he had been creeping forward towards the door, pulling himself along from one seat harness to the next. As he did so, he could see the ground getting closer. Though he hadn't yet gone down with the ship, he realized his chances of jumping in time were decreasing by the minute. He continued to attempt to pull himself once more along the wall towards the opening. The craft continued along the path he'd locked in, however, now the wind resistance caused by the new trajectory inhibited his forward motion inside the bird. He stopped. He grabbed the rip cord out of his second chute and cut it with a knife. No need for a back-up now, he thought to himself. He quickly tied a square knot and threw the makeshift lasso around an outcropping storage unit handle near the rust bucket's door. He slowly pulled himself towards the exit and managed to slip out just as the craft dipped below the crest of the mountain.

Louie yanked his lifeline with only a few seconds left for the parachute to open before he hit the ground. The canopy was in the process of unfolding as he drew closer and closer to the mountain side trees. It had half opened, slowing his descent, but hadn't expanded enough to catch the wind. He had a mere few hundred feet before he made impact. Directly below him was nothing but dirt and rocks. However, as the wind carried him, he began nearing a set of oaks. If he reached them, the chute could still prevent his collision with the ground, but he recognized such a landing was less than likely. He braced for a meeting with the unforgiving frozen soil of the Ukrainian wilderness. Only 50 feet to go before he hit the dirt, the chute caught a gust of wind that sustained Louie's flight an essential 15 seconds, propelling him towards a set of branches that stopped his descent cold. He now dangled 10 feet above the ground. The drop would beat a free fall, but he was still a fairly long way up for a jump. Having no choice, he steeled himself once more, reached up and cut the parachute cord. After being sent hurtling down from the tree, the pilot felt his ankle twist as he hit the solid forest floor.

"Ow!"

Moments after dropping to the dirt, he watched the plane hit ground at the base of the mountain and erupt into the same fireball his compatriots had witnessed. He groaned as he lay prostrate on the icy leaves and twigs. He knew his friends had no idea he'd made it out alive. Unfortunately, at the moment he felt in no mood to go searching for them to obviate the need for encomiums.

Back at the airport, as the other survivalists lifted off from the tarmac, each member of the group found him or herself lost in reverie. Bryan wondered how many hours stood between him and Daphne seeing each other again. Gail began to prepare herself against all of the lectures she could expect to hear from her husband the moment they reunited at the airport gate. The others thought of their own personal situations as well, of spouses, parents, siblings and pets. They all wanted just a brief moment of illusory joy back in the arms of loved ones. They'd have plenty of time to countenance the reality of what they now faced in the days and weeks to come.

In the midst of their bittersweet homecoming, the alien invaders were continuing to decimate town after town within the US. While a portion of the inhab's armada was still trapped in interstellar purgatory, Earth's attackers had a strategy to rectify this operational delay. And this plan for global domination no insider information regarding the aliens' weakness nor the contributions of the military from every superpower on earth could slow.

After a long intercontinental plane trip from Russia's capital, the survivalists arrived at Kennedy in New York. From here each would take flights to their respective local airports. The moment each celeb disembarked from the planes shuttling them back to their respective home towns, their families, friends, and girlfriends were to there to warmly receive them along with a throng of fans.

Immediately upon returning to his own house in Wichita, Caleb headed straight to his buddy's pad, where his canine companion waited to drench his face in two months' worth of pent-up slobber.

The dog didn't even need to see Caleb. The sound of his car was enough. When she heard his Outback pulling up into the driveway, she rushed for the door. The beast began jumping up and scratching at the screen as Caleb made his way up the front path. His friend had only opened the door up half-way when she pushed the rest of it open and lunged at her dad. The greeting nearly knocked Caleb over. His friend handed him a towel to dry off after his bath.

"So what now?" Wyatt, the golden retriever's keeper for the month, asked Caleb as they sat drinking Nescafe in his kitchen. The dog still circled its owner with its tail wagging as they conversed.

"Not sure," Caleb responded. "Feel like I should do something to help out, push war bonds or something, but I don't have the background for combat. The other folks who made it were all military. They'll probably rejoin the fight." He took a sip of his coffee. "I, for one, am gonna' sit the rest of this shindig out. Who knows? If we take these bastards down, I could always expand my martial arts program intergalactically."

"Cute," Wyatt responded. "Any contact with Hannah?"

"Nope," Caleb said shaking his head, "that ship has sailed. She and I decided to go our separate ways, and it's probably best we keep it that way."

"Come on, you guys still kept in touch. Telling an old flame you made it back from a bout with fucking aliens doesn't mean you're thinking about jumping into the sack again."

"Eh, maybe you're right," Caleb said lifting one side of his mouth.

Arriving back home with his pooch, Caleb collapsed onto his sofa. He looked at his phone. He wasn't even sure if he still had Hannah's number in his speed dial. Only a lengthy scroll through his contact list revealed to him that she was, indeed, still logged in his directory.

Part of him felt that contacting her was a bad idea. Hearing about whatever corporate mogul or a tax attorney she'd taken up with would just make him jealous. However, after a few minutes of thinking about it, he finally decided that for old-time's sake, there was no harm in reaching out. Being home again inspired a longing for old comforts--and Hannah certainly fit into that category. He found her record and pressed dial.

There was no answer.

He was about to leave a message. He then decided he didn't even want to bother. She might not even hit him back. A lot of folks had started blaming the SA contestants personally for what was happening across the country. Maybe Hannah did too. After what he'd just been through, he didn't need that kind of shade.

Meanwhile back in Springfield, Gail went straight for her bedroom the moment she returned home. There she flopped down onto her and her husband's ultra-soft Sealy mattress. She then looked at her spouse from her supine position. "Did you think I was ever coming back?"

"Honestly?" Chris asked.

"Mhmm," Gail responded.

"No," he said. "But I hadn't started looking at Match.com yet either."

Gail smiled.

"What did you tell the kids?"

"I said that Mom is in a really scary situation," Chris replied still hovering over her. "It's like one of her war missions, but this time the enemy has her out out-teched and out-gunned by 10,000 years."

"How'd they react?"

"They were scared, but they're fighters like their mom. They were ready for what might've come next."

Gail nodded weakly as a pang of guilt for her G. I. Jane stunt finally bypassed the feminist defenses she'd built.

Chris finally lay down next to his wife. "So, what's the plan now?"

"I've got no choice... I gotta' go back out there," Gail replied. "My country... hell the goddamn world needs me,"

"Haven't you risked enough for the "world" already?" Chris asked.

"Maybe, but what's the alternative? Sit around here mulching our garden while other people risk their asses taking on these fuckers?"

"There's also the kitchen floor tiles. Don't forget we were planning on redoing those when you got back."

Gail laughed. She kissed her husband again and felt his arms beginning to pull up her blouse.

"With my clothes smelling like this?" she said.

Her husband didn't answer. He was too distracted by the familiar feel of his wife's skin against his own.

"Guess you really did miss me... and I missed you, but you know what I also missed... showers," she said giving her husband a closed mouth peck as she pulled away from him and headed towards the bathroom.

Matt's welcome was equally cordial. Tonya threw her arms around him the moment he made his way out of the arrivals gate. She handed him a set of gold balloons that said "Welcome Back" in black lettering. As they walked through the crowd of fans, Tonya was a little miffed after one snow asked for an autograph from Matt and then a selfie with him--it wasn't the signature request or the photo Tonya minded. It was the switch from the arm around her man to the kiss on the check she gave him right as her friend snapped the picture. Tonya glared at the woman and laid a ring-studded hand on Matt's shoulder to claim her man as they walked away.

When they arrived back at their apartment, the returning survivalist threw his duffle down in the front hall. He walked into the bedroom and collapsed onto the queen-size they shared.

"I've already started talking to planners about the wedding," Tonya said still standing.

"Baby, slow down," Matt said. "I want us all proper as bad as you, but we ain't got time for no wedding, right now. We at war in case you've forgotten."

"Oh, come on, that's got nothing to do with us. You did your tour. You're stamp paid."

Matt shook his head. "Baby they still need me out there. We started this beef. We got to end it."

"You didn't start no war! They brought you up there to make them their money. They didn't give a shit if some alien capped your ass, and they sure as hell weren't sending anyone up there to get you. You came home by yourself. You're a hero! You don't gotta' go out and fight those motherfuckers down here to prove you're a patriot!"

Matt was torn. He didn't want to walk back out on his woman. At the same time, he knew if anyone should be out fighting the invaders, it was him--not just him but all of them.

"Baby, I gone rounds with these dudes. Me and my dawgs," he said tilting his neck to refer back to the men, and woman, he'd battled the inhabs with, "know how to handle these folks. Greenhorns out there in the trenches ain't got a clue."

Tonya exhaled. She flopped down on the bed next to her fianc "I better get the best fucking wedding you can buy me... I'm talkin' Lil Wayne and ice sculptures and shit!"

"You got it, baby!" he said. He then turned his head and laid a kiss on her lips.

The next day, Matt reported to Camp Pine in Des Plains, IL. He briefed his commanding officer on everything he and his fellow survivalists had learned about the inhabs fighting them in the Andromeda. That afternoon, he was deployed to the front lines in the American forces battle in Sante Fe, NM.

Over in LA, Bryan walked into his apartment and immediately headed over to the fridge, where he grabbed a beer. Next he powered up the Samsung phone that had been charging for a month. He checked his messages--all 47 of them. Lots of well wishes and hopes that he might come back safe and sound from friends, colleagues, a lieutenant. But nothing from Daphne. He hadn't necessarily expected voice mail from her. After all, she was still his girlfriend. Did she really have to ping him to get a call when he made it back home? Nevertheless, the fact that he hadn't heard from her didn't sit well with him. Before he left, she could never go more than three hours without sending him a text. The fact that she could go a month without dropping him an "Omg baby, I'm scared," after the news broke about SA's involuntary cancelation just felt wrong.

"Hey doll, I'm finally back," he said into his girlfriend's mailbox. "Bit of a trek, but we made it. Give me a call if you're not an alien slave yet."

After a day of sitting around drinking and regaling old friends about his adventures, Bryan began thinking about returning to battle. He knew Matt and Gail would jump back out there, and he didn't want to be the only military personnel from the crew to sit out the rest of the fight. However, by that evening he had still not heard from Daphne. The doubt that began to set in as a result of this fact severely slowed his impulse to return to the battlefield. After another day, when Bryan was about to count Daphne among other recent casualties, she finally called.

"Hey, how's it going?" he asked.

"Not bad. I'm glad you're safe."

"That makes two of us," Bryan responded.

"So, listen, I was gonna' head back out into the fray soon but I wanted to see if you'd like to get together sometime."

"Okay," was all Daphne said.

"Great, how 'about a long drive down the Pacific Coast Highway followed by a stop at the seafood restaurant in Rodondo Beach you love."

"Actually, I was thinking more like a cup of coffee," Daphne replied.

Chapter 16

Bryan's heart sank at Daphne's counter-suggestion. Neither the arrangement she suggested nor the tone of her voice foretold anything resembling a romantic reunion.

Bryan arrived at a local Starbucks in downtown LA. After buying coffee, he waited 15 minutes sipping his latte--growing more and more concerned about whether or not Daphne would actually show. Finally, she walked in, her Lane Bryant top exhibiting her ample endowment.

"Hey," he said enthusiastically.

"Hi," said Daphne.

"So d'ya miss me?" Bryan asked leaning back in his chair two minutes later as his lady-friend took a seat, expresso in hand.

She smiled and looked down at her coffee.

"Bryan, a lot's changed since you left. You remember Josh, the guy I dated in college. Well, he just moved back to California. He called me a few days after you left. Said he wanted to know what it was like dating a celebrity."

"And what'd you tell him?"

"Then, that you still put your pants on one leg at a time."

"But?" Bryan then asked.

"Well, when it looked like you weren't coming back, he became, you know, a shoulder to cry on."

"And now he's giving you more than his shoulder?"

"That's not fair, Bryan. You had the chance to make a down payment before you left. You chose the lease option instead."

"Very true. Guess I've got no one to blame but myself for that."

"Hey, I'm happy you made it back okay."

"Thanks."

"And I hope you get these fuckers," Daphne added.

"I'll do my best. Anyway, I gotta' go."

Daphne nodded her head. "Take care."

"You too," Bryan said standing up. As he left the caf the protective walls he'd been building since the day he came home began to erode. It was really over... not just on hold, not just maybe, maybe not... but 100% over. He immediately began regretting his hesitation.

Look at the bright side, he thought to himself later that evening as he sat on his couch scrolling to the number of his commander--there was nothing holding him back now. He wouldn't be leaving her behind... twice.

In a briefing at Fort Sill in Oklahoma, Sergeant Aaron Reynolds, a 20-year enlisted soldier who'd been called back to national defense while serving his seventh tour in Syria, addressed a platoon. "Okay," the sergeant announced from his position in front of a strategic map sitting on a digital display board, "here's the low down. Those folks who were up on Caelestis have told us that we need to heat these lizards up to penetrate their shells. So, we have a new plan of attack. We're gonna' supersoak them with gas, bring a flame thrower in close, real close, and then blitz 'em while they're hot."

The next day, in Arizona, an inhab battalion was stopped at a pond at the edge of an open field pumping drinking water into their ATV. Their race was not very picky about the quality of the water they drank. Algae'd fluids with hints of rusty metal from the bike tires and discarded tools sitting at its bottom, suited them just fine. Four enlisted soldiers who'd been trailing the treaded vehicle in a Humvee emerged and crept on their hands and knees across the desert towards the aliens. One had a backpack sprayer full of gasoline, another a flamethrower and two, including Sergeant Reynolds, AK-47s. The four enlisteds emerged from behind the ATV as the creature stood waiting to remove the hose from the water body. The first soldier tried to douse the alien with the contents of his pack. He was able to get some parts of it with the juice, but it moved too quickly to coat the inhab's entire suit of armor. The flamethrower laden soldier tried lighting up the creature, but as a result of the patchy spray job, only a small section of his exterior protection caught. The third and fourth enlisteds aimed for the flaming patches, but these isolated swathes of burn weren't easy targets to hit. The inhab responded immediately with his laser rifle. Seconds later, one of its compatriots came flying out of the ATV adding to the onslaught. In a matter of seconds, three of the men lay dead. Sergeant Reynolds just barely escaped with his life.

10 minutes later, the fleeing soldier sat in the Humvee they'd all rolled up in. "We have a no-go on that op," he said over his walkie. He then began making his back to the location where the aliens had just incinerated his colleagues, putting in another call, this time for a corpsman, as he headed towards the site of the failed mission.

The following day, Bryan headed out to where his former superior was organizing a mission from a Fort Hunter Liggett in Monterey. The moment he walked into his office, Colonel Gary McClintock rushed around the desk, disregarding all military protocol, and hugged the returning warrior. "It's good to have you back, Sergeant," the general said.

"Thanks, Gary," Bryan responded taking a seat.
Colonel McClintock returned to his chair. "So, they're currently engaging the invaders in the desert in Eastern Oklahoma. We've got battalions skirmishing with them about every 100 miles or so. They've got a series of ground vehicles, some kind of centipede ATV and a lot of fighters for air support. They wipe out three or four of our units, kidnap a bunch of locals for their farms and then move on. From what we've seen so far, they appear to be heading both west towards Arizona and southeast towards Texas. We've been trying to implement the intel you folks gave us... gasoline, throwers and then a honeycomb. Unfortunately these things move too fast to get 'em wet enough to deep fry. Besides that, it wasn't even clear that any shots got through the melted part of the suits."

"Well, whatever these shitbags' endgame, I want out there to make sure they don't finish," Bryan said.

"You sure you're ready to get back out there so soon?"

"We're the only ones with real combat experience against these douchebags. I've already talked to the other two soldiers from the show. They're gonna' fight... and so am I."

"Okay, I can patch you in with one of our platoons. They're rendezvousing in Albuquerque at 16:00 tomorrow. I'll get you out with some of the men heading that way tonight."

"Copy that. Thank you, Colonel." The soldier got up and started to leave the office.

"Bryan. If you need to pull out, just say the word."

"Will do, Colonel."

Meanwhile, in Phoenix, two police officers exited their car and walked up to Mrs. Perez's front door. Gail had called Fernanda to explain what had happened. She held on to hope until the moment the cops were standing in front of her. She began to convulse immediately upon seeing them. Soon afterwards, the sympathy calls from other surviving members of the squad began coming in. Caleb, Bryan and Matt all phoned successively to apologize for her loss, to tell her how brave her husband's effort in bringing them back home alive had been.

Meanwhile, in a New Mexican desert, Matt had joined a company fighting fending off inhabs attempting to overtake a city north of Sante Fe. "How long you been out here?" Matt asked the private to his left as he lay against a sandbag parked next to other soldiers he'd recently joined up with.

"Two days." So far, the only thing that's slowed them down is our Black Hawks. They hit one of these things for a minute or two... eventually it gets irritated and retreats. The rifles," he said, holding up his weapon, "don't really do a damn thing unless someone gets off a round that hits one of those things right in the center of the forehead. Otherwise, the shot just bounces off its amor... or its skin. Once they're out of their caterpillars, they mow us down in seconds. There's only so many laser blasts the Kevlar can take," he said patting his chest. But hey, at least we give their next set of slaves a little more time to get the hell out. It usually takes less than five minutes before they've put another 200 prisoners into the back of one of their centipedes.

Within 15 minutes, an alien caravan came rolling up on the unit's position. The inhabs exited their ATVs and began advancing on the troops. They infantrymen lowered their weapons as they prepared to scale the barrier. Seeing the lizards just on the other side of the bags, Matt stood up. After jumping on top of the sand wall, he took a flying leap towards an inhab knocking him supine with his own full body weight. The soldier he'd just been speaking to followed him over the makeshift divider. He watched as human and alien rolled over one another until Captain Burton finally got hold of its rifle. The enlisted shot the creature dead with its own artillery. Seconds later, however, a second alien took his fellow soldier to the ground with a flurry of laser fire. Soon the entire alien force had scaled the barrier. The men started to retreat, but the inhabs soon overran everyone who'd been attempting to hold the line. On the other side of the wall, Matt grabbed the fallen private and slung him over his shoulder. With the other arm he blasted two more inhabs as he moved towards one of the unit's Humvees. He threw the other man down in the back seat and took off in the vehicle leaving a snaking row of fallen bodies visible in their rearview.

Following his meeting with the colonel Bryan went home and began preparing his suitcase. He took a bit of heart in the fact that he'd be bringing clothes with him this time besides the ones he had on his back. No one could underestimate psychological value of an in country wardrobe change. He checked his weapon and loaded it along with ammunition into the case. He took a deep breath, locked his door and headed towards his car.

He arrived at a military tent erected on the side of the road. Next to it was a set of trucks ready to take the platoon out to a site where an alien convoy had been spotted approaching a town east of the state capital. Half the unit was already in contact with the enemy. Sergeant Bryan Gibson, reporting for duty," he said saluting the commanding lieutenant.

"Well, well, if it isn't one of the celebrities."

Bryan suppressed a smile.

"Let me introduce you," the officer said leading Bryan over to a truck where a unit of privates was already on board awaiting their departure."

"This here's Corporal Bryan Gibson, one of the Survivor Andromeda participants."

Half the troop's faces lit up in smiles of awe. The other half wanted to wring his neck for getting them into a war with an unbeatable enemy.

After a night and day of driving, Bryan accompanied the other men off the truck. Another squadron had just arrived as well. Four privates put up a tent. A medic began carrying supplies off the vehicle and into the makeshift hospital. The wind kicked up the sand all around them. The acrid taste of the desert filled their mouths as they worked. They had only begun erecting a wall of sandbags when an alien convoy could be seen motoring over a bluff.

"Change of plans," the lieutenant said to his unit. "Our 5:00 o'clock is early. Everyone down!"

The troops hit the deck. Bryan, along with the others started blasting at the invaders as they climbed out of their own ATVs and returned fire. Bryan knew they were hamburger meat without a wall. He hated lying there as vulnerable as the men facing these things for the first time. One of the privates managed to hit a lizard in the eye. This was the only hostile that the unit's artillery barrage fazed. Suddenly there was an explosion just 20 feet from where Bryan lay flat on the sand. Two of the men lying only a few feet away from him were hit.

Three soldiers ran over to the wounded men and slung them up over their shoulder. They began rushing them into the tent.

Meanwhile Bryan aimed at the approaching inhab's weak spots. His shots continued to miss their mark.

"Fuck this," he shouted.

He stood up. He began running towards one of the creatures. In addition to the Kevlar vest that others wore, he also had on the protective covering he'd fashioned out of the animal hide on Caelestis. He'd worn the extra layer since the day they left the planet. Laser blasts continued scorching his chest, but he was able to keep moving forward. He aimed directly at its neck. The inhab was about to fire at his head when he let fly a single bullet finally tore a small hole just beneath the invader's chin, dropping his target.

As he witnessed the rest of the other soldiers falling at the aliens' hands, he looked up in the sky at an F-16 attempting to provide air support for the American troops. "Pull back," he shouted to the rest of his unit.

"What are you talking about?" his lieutenant asked him.

"This isn't the answer," he said gesturing towards the other fighters shooting in vain at the impenetrable alien attackers about to make short work of them on their path towards the town's center.