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gravity well, or through atmosphere. They may be feasible, but we certainly don’t have a targeting zero for firing from Earth’s surface and, more importantly, we don’t have any of the tachyon waveguides or their munitions.”
    “Then
build
some. Find an egghead to tell you if you can fire them, build some, and do your
jobs!
” Conner growled. “We will
not
go quietly into the night, gentlemen! This is not where the human race ends! Are you listening to me?”
    “Yes sir.”
    “Good. Now go get me some answers. Find me something we can use.”

    Earth was a blue-white ball in the black of space, hanging in an eternal dance around the blazing yellow of the Sun. From anywhere in cislunar space, the Earth was the epitome of a peaceful icon.
    That is, under all normal conditions.
    Even during the worst human wars, all was serene from space.
    Serenity, however, had now left the system.
    Drasin ships literally surrounded the planet, some firing on random targets, others launching on the planet with regular ferocity. The alien ships evoked a visceral reaction from any human eyes that saw them, a deep burning urge to fight or to flee that couldn’t . . . wouldn’t be denied.
    To human eyes they were the most viscerally terrifying things that ever existed, or ever
could
exist. There was no serenity where the Drasin passed, no life in their wake, and no hope for anything caught in their path.
    In Drasin eyes, they were purity and humanity was the abomination.
    Two species, literally born to hate and fear one another. One could even say that they had been
designed
to do so.

CHAPTER TWO
    Angels Twenty Over NYC

    “STRYKER LEAD, NEW priority tasking.”
    “Roger command. Standing by.”
    The F/A-66 Mach Fighter curled slowly on its orbit of the city below, turning easily as Commander Miriam Benoit checked her instruments and waited for targeting information. Her squad had been deployed to provide CAP for the Guard in the city, but there hadn’t been a lot to do so far with the Guard mostly caught in
traffic,
of all the damned stupid things.
    A tasking, any tasking, was just what she’d been praying for since the first impact shook the city below.
    “Stand by, Commander, we are relaying targeting data now.”
    “Roger that.”
    Her instruments went active almost instantly, targeting data feeding into the fighter from the ground below. She looked it over briefly, noting its location, and whistled.
    “Central Park? We’re going to launch on Central Park? Damn, this is fucked up,” she said before keying back intothe command channel. “Roger command. Have paint on the screen. Stryker Five, follow me in.”
    “Right behind you, Lead.”
    Two Mach Fighters peeled off from the squadron, angling down and picking up speed as they lined up for their run. The city grew ahead of them as they dove in, leveling out at Angels Ten as their computers began to calculate the release point.
    “Stryker Lead. Weapons free.”
    “Stryker Five. Weapons free.”
    The computers took over then as the two Mach Fighters broke mach one at ten thousand feet over the city, calculating the changes in speed and position against the target data coming in from below. The red icons blinked to yellow, then quickly over to green as the computer released the guided munitions.
    “Bombs away,” Miriam called, pulling up and around in case she had to line up for a second run. “Strike inbound.”



CENTRAL PARK WEST

    “STRIKE INBOUND.”
    Eric felt like throwing up, a spectacularly bad idea while wearing powered armor (or any full face breather, frankly), but managed to hold that off. He clipped his chute pack to the back of his armor and jumped, letting the pack do a minimal slowing of his descent as he dropped behind the NYPD cop who was still sprawled on the ground.
    He pushed her further down, covering her with his own armored body, much to the woman’s ire.
    “Incoming!” he called, loud enough to be heard for quite some range, and was