The final chapter of Starting Anew.

I should have the first chapter of the next part of the greater story put up soon after this one. After all, while on a roll, why stop?

Chapter 6 - Thunder

When the Elves struck, they struck smartly. The White House and Capitol Building were hit by very effective bombs, reducing the structures to rubble. The President and his Cabinet were in the White House, and the Senate was in session. People came running from their homes to go to shelters nearby or shelters in their back yards as the bombs dropped. Fighters flew over airfields to keep more defenders from scrambling, only allowing a few squadrons to get up into space.

The battle on the ground was far from over. McLintock was there, with his men, no longer drunk from his time at a barbeque, now in full gear, running down the street. "Come on!" He yells to his men, lagging a little behind him. He stops at a door and everyone stacks up. A squad of elven soldiers just went into the building across the street and were shooting at men in a store across from it. "Grenade!" He calls out, and tosses a grenade in the door while one of his men throws a grenade thru the window. A shout goes out in elven as the grenades cook, then is silenced by the explosions. Then McLintock is thru the door with his team. For McLintock, everything goes slow and automated. Elf in the corner in his sector, weapon in hand, two shots into the chest. He hears, and yet doesn't hear, shots fired in the room to his right as he heads for the stairs. Elf at the top of the stairs as he comes around. Two shots, then a third. The elf falls, weapon down, his shot missed him. He heads up the stairs with two men with him. One rushes in first and flies back, shot by a pulse weapon. He doesn't stop, flash bang, pull pin, throw, it bounces off the door as he stacks against the wall. Loud pop, in he goes, gun up. Two elves standing upright, screaming in pain, their ears and eyes bleeding. A shot in each one. One elf is on the floor, another, who was in the next room over, throwing down his weapon and raising his hands. "Segeant, take charge of these prisoners." He says. He then gets on the radio. "Juliet this is Romeo, building clear. We have two prisoners." He looks back at the doorway, the medic is tending to his wounded man. "What's the word, doc?" He asks, coming over to kneel next to him.

"Chest shot. His armor just barely stopped it, but he's got a broken rib or two." He says, helping the man up. "Priority medivac." The doc is helping him down the stairs as McLintock calls for the evac bird, or vehicle. A tank rumbles by, heading down the street, and stops at the corner. An elven tank just down the street. The elf fires first, the shot hitting the tank's front armor, but...not doing anything. The Abrams fires back, and the sudden shower of sparks and explosion as the elf's magazine cooks off announces the kill.

McLintock is out of the building now, with his squad, a Blackhawk inbound to pick up the casualties. Juliet, a medivac point, is now secure, and his squad goes down the street with the tank, the Abrams carefully skirting the burning elven wreck. In the skies, a squadron of F-15s is fighting for its life against three squadrons of Elven fighters, what the soldiers are calling screamers because of the sound they make when they fire. McLintock stops at the corner of the next street and looks around the curve. Another elven tank. "We got an enemy tank, about 20 meters past the curve of the house. It's aiming down the street it's blocking off." He says, backing up. The Abrams drives up, turret facing left. As he comes around the corner, the elven tank spots him and traverses, but it's too late, the Abrams fires, having stopped almost dead in line with the tank that was aiming the wrong way. The shot flies true, hitting just below the turret, the impact knocking the turret loose, the exploding fuel in the engine behind the tank blowing the bottom apart and sending the turret flying fifteen feet into the air, landing on top of the building next to it and falling thru the roof of the highest story. A shot goes in high at the Abrams, bouncing off the sloping wall behind it, heading up into a balcony of a motel nearby. The Abrams backs up as another shot hits its side armor, making a good hole and damaging the tread. The tank is out of the line of fire when the tread comes loose, however, so the crew is able to get out and start making repairs while McLintock calls for an air strike.

The airstrike comes in low and fast, Gharna and Cynder in full armor flying low between the buildings, an F-15 directly above them. An elven VTOL craft comes around the corner, and gets swatted down by the F-15, who abruptly pulls up, drawing off a fighter. Cynder swoops around the hotel just behind McLintock, and as he watches, she and Gharna land on the side of the building, breaking all the windows, and breath fire into it, Gharna into the top stories, Cynder into the bottom. Then they abruptly let go and fly off as anti air fire strikes the building, the five story apartment complex burning. The F-15 makes a return trip, dropping a bomb and banking hard as tracers streak up at it. The tracers stop as the bomb hits. "MOVE OUT!" McLintock calls, then picks up the radio. "Nice shot girls, target destroyed." He then advances down the street, taking out stragglers, the tank coming a few minutes later after the crew boards.

Cynder and Gharna grin to each other as they receive the praise and head off to another part of the city, more support requests. This time a group in the open. As they fly over, low and fast, they see several different firefights. All over the town, elven infantry is being pushed back, and their armor is being quickly and efficiently defeated. It seems human armor is more effective than elven armor. It takes three elven shots to kill an Abrams, but the anti tank munitions humans have developed for the last eighty years is showing to good effect, neutralizing targets with only one or two shots. Two more calls for support come in and the girls split off to deal with them, Cynder heading downtown, Gharna heading for the suburbs.

Now past the burning apartments, McLintock reaches a group of five Abrams at a major intersection. "Good, you're here!" A familiar voice speaks up. McLintock grins, wide, as he sees General Wallace on his tank. "We're pushing for the Washington Monument. These elves are using it as a command point. We take that place down, they don't have any more coordination!" McLintock nods. "Now, I want you boys to set up defensive fire positions. They're throwing an attack our way. Once we beat them back, we'll advance and take back our monument."

McLintock doesn't even respond. He doesn't need to. He gives his men their orders and they start getting their defensive positions established. Men are getting javelins set up and picked out, and an elven fighter comes down too low, a stinger streaking out and chasing the fighter away, blotting it out of the sky a few seconds later.

Gharna flies in low over the suburbs, she doesn't like this. She's too exposed. She reaches her target easily tho, a house occupied by elves. She hits it with a fireball, blowing the roof apart and catching the whole thing on fire. A gun position in the back yard hits her on the wing, and screaming, she falls to the ground, grinding across the concrete a bit before skidding to a stop against a building. Groaning, she opens her eyes and tries to move, but her front leg won't listen to her, and she can't really feel her wing. She groans and lays her head down, closing her eyes to try to control her pain.

A few minutes later, with a screamer blowing up a little ways off from a missile shot from the ground, she hears the last thing she wanted to hear. Elven voices coming closer, she opens her eyes, seeing an elven soldier walking over and, in elven, he says, "Poor brainwashed dragon. We will release you from your torture." He raises his gun, and Gharna closes her eyes, waiting for the end.

"Sir, shouldn't we have a little fun with her before we do her in?" Another asks, and she can feel what she guesses to be a penis near to her entrance. They were going to rape her first?!

"HEY! Knife ears!" Someone calls out, in english, then BLAM BLAM! Gharna opens her eyes and sees a human, in regular clothing, running over, blasting away with a shotgun, another next to him with a rifle, three elves dead, the forth shooting back, caught by surprise, his first few shots miss, but before he can take aim, another human behind him pops him in the back of the head with a pistol shot. The man with the shotgun turns to him. "Hold on." He says. "Help's on the way." She nods and closes her eyes, relieved, and waits.

"Tanks coming in! Straight ahead!" A soldier calls out.

"Fire at will!" McLintock orders, and watches as the javelin missile launches from it's tube, rushing straight up, leveling out, then diving, hitting the tank on the top of the turret. The turret explodes, the bottom half catching fire, another missile hitting the tank to its right. Then the five Abrams speak in unison, tracer rounds arching out, hitting a tank a piece, killing four and damaging a fifth. The return fire is focused on one tank, which explodes brilliantly. Then two more javelins hit and no more tanks, only the elven infantry, which turns and runs seeing their cover was destroyed. Explosions start blossoming up behind the dead tanks, ripping the infantry to shreds as artillery enters the fray.

McLintock's radio speaks up. "Push forward! We've got to take back the monument!" He sends a roger back and he and his men start moving forward, the tanks spreading out and firing, giving them mobile cover and direct fire support. An F-18 streaks in overhead, the skies now clear of enemy fighters, bombs detaching from its wings. They break apart in midair and explosions litter the ground as the cluster bomb hits. A secondary explosion, bigger and more brilliant, marks the death of an armored vehicle.

Gharna opens her eyes at the feeling of her wing and leg being tended. She looks and sees a human soldier wrapping up her upper arm. Her wing is mauled, but another one is putting white bandages over the worst spots, then an excruciating pain as he sets the wing bone. Cynder lands nearby, a Crystal dragon with her. As the medics move back, she can feel the flow of energy. The medics were setting her bones, and now, she is easily healed up. She gets up and shakes her leg and wing. "Thank you." She says, to both the soldiers, and what looks like a citizen militia.

"No problem." The militiaman responds. "After all, you saved our asses with your strike." He says. Gharna smiles and looks to the soldier.

"Situation is under control." He says, putting down his radio receiver. "We've taken the enemy command point, and their forces are surrendering across the city. The battle around Earth is over too." He smiles. "Looks like we won." That brings a cheer from the militia, and the dragons eagerly join in with their own roars of joy.

All across DC, similar joyful cheers come up. The city, the planet, is still under their control.

USS Enterprise, Earth Orbit

Brent sits down in the briefing room with Saphyra. This was to be their normal post, and he is fully prepared to take on his duties as fighter group commander. The Admiral speaks up. "Right then, nice work during that fight around our homes. The situation on the ground is now under control." He says. "We are going to do a lightning counter offensive immediately. The elves attacked Europa at the same time they attacked Earth, and we have lost contact with the moon." He flicks the picture over and it shows the moon as it is now, green and forested with cities spaced out, and a large one where the draconic capital used to be. "We think they cleared the planet of resistance then pulled their forces in here." He points to the largest city. "They will be sending teams out to deal with pockets of resistance that spring up, but they have nothing to fight with there." He says. "We can expect the resistance to clear a zone here when we get there, so we may land ground troops directly in the city via drop ships." The photos switch to around the planet. "We have a raptor fleet coming in. It will arrive in about two hours at Saturn. In three hours, after we have taken on troops from Earth, we will do a micro jump to Jupiter and meet the raptor fleet, then engage the enemy fleet above Europa. The Enterprise and the Caroline will not enter battle directly when we arrive. We will guard the troop ships Galileo and Andromeda as they offload troops. Then the battle group will move as one to engage the elves."

The photos stop. "I want the fighters to clear out hostile fighter craft. Major Davis, you will assign a squadron for ground support. The rest are to assist in the destruction of the enemy fleet. Your best will be needed for supporting the ground attack. There will be gunships and fighters."

Davis nods. "I'll go with the Rogues. Saphyra can keep control of the space fighters." Saphyra nods next to him.

"Very well." The admiral says. "Saphyra, we will also need your dragons to do strafing runs on the elven battleships, or they will tear us apart. Initial reports during the invasion said they have three battleships there, and no dreadnaughts. All three went to Earth, and were destroyed."

Saphyra nods again. "Yes sir, we can do that. I'll have a fighter squadron stay close to keep anyone trying to harass us off us."

"Very well." The admiral says again, in the same tone. Brent and Saphyra look at each other and grin. The admiral then starts going over how he wants the ships to move once they arrive, and once they go into combat. "Right. This battle will decide whether or not humanity keeps control of Sol system." He says. "We do not have the strength for a prolonged fight. This is all or nothing. Dismissed."

Two hours later

Everyone was there, on the flight deck, right on time. Brent and Saphyra knew this may be the last time they had any alone time together, so they used every second except for the last fifteen minutes showing each other just how much they loved each other. The last fifteen, they showered together and got ready. Now the Davis pair paces before their men and dragons. "This is our single most important mission to date." He says. "You were all briefed by your flight leaders. You all know your part." He says. "Humanity depends on this. If we lose here, we will lose Earth next. We do not have the capability of either holding the elves back from Earth again, or taking another shot at Europa after this." He says. "They will destroy us with attrition unless we beat them here and now. Get to your fighters, stand by for launch." He says, and everyone heads to their fighters, including himself.

Once settled in, he waits for it. "Microjump in four, three, two, one..." The world stretches just a little outside, then, four seconds later, Jupiter appears outside. "Launch." He orders. He and everyone else on the flight deck spill out of the open end of the ship like cockroaches from a dumpster. There were no enemy targets close enough to engage, so they all set up. "Rogues, prepare to guard drop ships." He orders.

"All fighters aside from Rogues, form up with your designated dragon squad." The fighters all switch to where they're supposed to be as the Galileo and Andromeda head for the planet, the large, bulky, heavily armed ships already getting ready.

Inside the Galileo, McLintock is rushing his men into their drop ships. "Get in, get in! T minus five minutes to drop!" He calls out, and when the last man is on board, then move to the side, metal dividers coming up, and a tank backs into the drop ship. Once it is in, its gun slung up along the drop ship's cockpit hull and covered, the doors close.

From outside, the drop ships start moving out on long lines, docking beams extending from the ship. The men inside feel only a light vibration, then a soft jolt as they lock into the ready position. "Steady men! This is what we do! We're Airborne!" A loud HOOAH resounds around the entire drop ship. Then a sharp jolt. The drop ships are cut loose, dropping a little bit as they get caught somewhat by the gravity of the moon. Then the thrusters kick in and they move under their own power, heading straight down for Europa.

On Europa, the elves have no idea what's coming their way, overly confident in their fleet's ability to defend them, they were not expecting drop ships. At first, they stare as overhead, the thin lines of ships are visible. It becomes all too real when the first fighter streaks by overhead and an explosion rips thru the heart of one of their armored columns sitting in wait before the prince's command post.

The drop ships are just barely entering the atmosphere now, anti air fire starting to come up at them. Their shields deflect away occasional blasts. At this range they aren't accurate. The fighters use the shots to take down the defense towers one at a time. They are getting closer.

The admiral is happy about how things are going. The fleet is now empty, meaning all ground troops have been dispatched. Those ships held a thousand men each, all now heading down for the planet surface. "Come about." He orders. "Bring the fleet to bear on the elven forces." He says, and the ships all turn, seemingly as one, and face the battle zone, explosions filling the screen. The elves had seen what they were doing and tried to move closer, but the raptor did not let them. "Fighters, engage. Battleship Caroline and destroyer escort, lay down long range covering fire." The phaser beams spear out, catching ships occasionally, one ship exploding brightly as a phaser blast penetrates its already weakened shields and detonates its engine core. The return fire claims a frigate before the human fleet joins with their raptor counterparts.

Just over the city now, the drop ships start slowing their descent. This makes them an easier target, and one is detonated by a close by anti air position. The position is killed as the drop ship falls on it, the gunners more patriotic than intelligent. The drop ships land, one landing right before an elven checkpoint. The young male stares at the ship as it lands, then as the doors open, he blanches, reaching for his gun, only to see a tank turret detach from the ship's structure and aim at him. "Oh fu..." He never finishes the statement, as he, and his checkpoint, erupt into the first explosion of what will prove to be a long battle. Airborne troops come pouring out of the dropships, screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs to psyche themselves out. As the tanks disembark after them, the dropships fire off small rounds from the tops of their cockpits, filling the air with electronic jammers, blanketing the elven communication frequencies with white noise and silent blanketing.

Raptors pop up from windows, and on roofs, calling out bloodthirsty battle cries to support the humans, more than a few jumping down and charging with them, pointing them to points where elves are held up. McLintock runs into one of these points with a raptor, and watches as the raptor pounces onto an elf and opens his belly to the air with a swipe of its' claws. Another elf is nearby, readying a rifle. McLintock shoots him down before he can make a shot. Then they rush to the roof.

"There..." The raptor says, pointing to a large park. "They have their entire armored force parked there, brother." McLintock nods, getting on the radio. Within seconds, three F22s streak overhead and drop cluster bombs on the sight, several dozen raptors up on roofs cheering this with their loud, piercing calls.

The admiral can't help but feel happy. They have the elven fleet surrounded. The raptors are darting thru the elven formations, keeping them from forming up for a uniform assault, and the dragons are swarming over the one battleship present, already having disabled it, they are now picking it apart, bit by bit. The human ships are picking their shots and using their phasers on targets that present themselves to be open. Phasers have already proven to be the strongest weapon in the fleet's arsenal, next to their nuclear weapons. The missiles are good at killing fighters, but their payloads right now don't even dent the shields of larger ships. "Sir..." A lieutenant nearby pipes up. "They are trying to retreat. The battleship is surrendering." He says. The admiral nods. The ships in the fleet target the engines of the elven ships, and the dragons land on the battleship's hull, ensuring its surrender isn't taken back at an inopportune moment. Three dragons leave to head down towards the moon's surface.

On the ground, the prince is pissed. Royally pissed. The humans were not cooperating. Now he will need to tend to things himself. First, he'll kill this fighter squadron above his city, then he'll go get more forces. He goes to his personal hangar and gets in his fighter. He takes to the sky, shooting at and damaging an F-22 that crosses his flight path, and heads for the leader while the other fighters tend to the ground guns and remaining fighters.

Davis sees the fighter heading out and how it shot one of his own fighters. He closes with the elf and fires a missile. He watches the missile streak in and then blinks when the fighter shoots the missile out of the sky, only just barely managing to dodge the shots fired at him as a response. Chiding himself for his lapse, he brings himself around, seeing thru enhanced optics that the elf he's fighting has a crown on his helmet. He writes it off, not knowing the elf very clearly recognizes him. As they circle, Davis cuts his throttle back and kicks up the fighter, bringing himself in line. He fires a quick cannon shot, missing wide with all but one, that shot scoring on the tip of the elf's wing. The elf responds with two shots of his own cannons, missing low but scorching the wings' undersides.

Davis flips the fighter over and applies some yaw, heading down at an oblique angle, firing his guns, and is again frustrated as the elf rolls when he does, his shots missing below the cockpit. He cuts right and chases the elf, on his tail, too close for a safe missile shot. He studies the elf, how he moves to try and shake him. When he repeats a certain move again he fires, scoring a hit on the elf's engine. The elf cuts back and fires, hitting his right tail rudder. He rolls some but regains control, bringing himself around and firing a missile at the elf.

The prince sees the missile fire, sees he won't be able to turn fast enough to get it. The fight had taken them into the upper atmosphere, where he would be able to maneuver better, but then again, so would the missile. A rage builds up inside him, a rage he pours his magic into, glaring at the human fighter as a white border forms around it. He sees the pilot look around, obviously wondering what's happening, and then, poof, he's gone.

Saphyra watches as the spell happens, feeling her stomach open into a deep pit from which nothing could escape. She rushes forward with all her speed, but for everything she could do, she can't get into range. Her mate, her bonded, vanishes with the spell, and a half second later, the missile hits the prince's cockpit, exploding the front half of his fighter, and erasing the prince from existence. Saphyra cries out in anguish and loss. They all won the battle, won humanity's future, with the dragons, but she has lost her mate! Her bonded! He is...not dead. No, if he were dead, the bond would be severed and she would feel a deep, profound, and physical hurt. Most were knocked out when their bonded died, and she was alive. The bond was there, but extremely weak. Almost undetectable. She circles around where her bonded vanished, letting her senses and sensors scan the entire area.

TO BE CONTINUED...

OK, that's it for Starting Anew. I'll try to put out the next chapter in the next series this coming week, but no promises. My professors decided the best thing to give right before a test would be a whole lot of homework and projects.