Seated in the chopper, I watched the feed from a drone, as the trebuchets launched the three Herculeans over the stadium wall.

They soared through the air, and then seemed to go splat! against a solid surface in mid-air.

The shield.

The three ultras scrambled down. The aliens - mostly Raptors - were reacting, turning to fire at the rapidly moving first wave.

Chikaradzuyoi and the others, however, were sliding down the shield like kids in an amusement park. Alien eyes swiveled in their direction, more and more plasma bolts blazing through the sky - and missing them all.

I turned to the pilot. “Now.”

The choppers had been hovering just above the ground for minutes, waiting for the order. Now, they surged forward, rising rapidly.

In seconds, we were over the stadium wall.

: go go go!

I didn’t need encouragement. As the chopper entered the stadium proper, I jumped.

So did the dozen SAS operators behind me.

Each of the SAS troopers had ‘wings’ that opened out, letting them glide in towards the enemy. The only challenge was that the ‘wings’ of their gliders were exceptionally large and the gliders themselves were very, very slow.

So my job - as ultra on the team - was to change that.

Each glider was tied to my armor with a nanofibre cord, strong enough to pull an elephant. My armor also had a jetpack attached to it - a contribution from another inventor, Jetstream - and I triggered it.

In less than a second, we were on our way down, heading straight for the enemy.

Three other choppers had crossed into the stadium at the same time, one from each end. From each, a thin line of soldiers - each led by a jetpack-wearing inventor in power armor - jumped. I could see the Raptor guards on the ground spotting us and reacting with alarm.

Don’t give them time.

I ploughed downwards.

Naturally, things would go wrong about this point. Instead of hitting the football field as planned, I fell short and struck the spectator stand.

As my jetpack fizzled out, the armor smashed into the seats, turning the fine furniture of the 13,000 seater ‘Home End’ stand into kindling.

FURNITURE DESTROYER ACTIVATED.

Yes, I know, the seats are furniture…

Unfortunately, according to my power, so was the stand. Not just the seats - the entire stand.

As the aliens began to turn their attention towards us, I could feel the entire edifice - designed to hold a crowd of thousands of screaming fans - collapse.

Twelve soldiers and one ultra fell.

FALL IMPACT! ARMOR: 980/1000.

Clouds of dust obscured my vision. I could see broken seats, spars, and metal girders everywhere. The aliens weren’t firing yet - probably because the dust was hiding us - but it was only a matter of time.

“Everybody okay?” I yelled into my radio.

“Bit bruised but ready to fight,” came the voice of Captain Donald Green. “Rocket launchers are a writeoff, though.”

“All three?” I asked.

“Two just broke. The third one’s bent.”

Crap. Without the rocket launchers, we didn’t have a way to hit the generator.

Keep moving forward.

“I’m deploying now,” I said.

“Understood. We’ll follow through the shield and take up firing positions.”

Up. Face front. Only ten feet from the edge of the shield, not that it’s going to stop people at ground level, just projectiles.

Slide through the shield boundary. Ah, there was a nice specimen, a Raptor Guard.

Boar Charge.

I smashed into the Raptor Guard, shattering limbs and ribs. Then my Lightning Battlehammer got to work.

The next minute blurred into mayhem. I was swinging my hammer, charging, thrusting, and letting loose a Lightning Strike here and there for good measure. At the other ends of the field, the other ultras were doing the same.

Chikaradzuyoi and the other Herculeans had also joined the fight and were making their strength count. I could see a Sarnak go flying through the air, driven back by a punch from Shadaras.

A boom! sound echoed across the battlefield. Ah, rockets. At least the other teams hadn’t wrecked their launchers.

Blasts and explosions echoed across the field, but the generator stayed up.

The Raptor Guards were confused and disorganized, which was the only reason we were still alive. The crack-crack-crack of rifle fire from the SAS kept hitting them, even as the ultras smashed one alien after another side.

It couldn’t last - soon, their officers would rally them, and then we’d be dead.

My Battlehammer turned another Raptor Guard’s brains into pulp. Ignoring the XP notification, I scanned the battlefield for the leader.

There had to be a Captain or higher here.

Instead, I saw the shield generator.

Two hundred feet away. That was it.

HIERARCHY INFANTRY SHIELD TOWER

CLASS: DEFENSIVE STRUCTURE

HP: 2036/25,000

SHIELDS GENERATED: 10,000,000 / 10,000,000

SHIELD REGEN: 250,000/SECOND

REPELS ARTILLERY, PROJECTILE OR ENERGY WEAPONS FIRE BY REDUCING ENERGY OUTPUTS TO BELOW A SAFE THRESHOLD. CAN BE BYPASSED BY PEOPLE WALKING THROUGH, AS THE MOMENTUM / KINETIC ENERGY OF A SLOW-MOVING HUMAN IS BELOW THE SAFE THRESHOLD.

Some of the rockets had hit the generator. Cracks were visible. But the tower was still - unfortunately - intact.

There was only one thing to do.

I used Powerjump.

One MP per foot per hundred kilos. 400 MP for me to reach it.

I landed right next to the generator and hit it my hammer.

DEADLY BLOW! -495 HP TO SHIELD GENERATOR! ELECTRIC RESISTANCE: NO IMPACT OF ELECTRIC SHOCK!

No time to waste. I swung again, and again.

In four more strikes, the generator went down.

ALIEN SHIELD GENERATOR DOWN!

WARNING: ALIEN FORCES ALERTED. YOU ARE NOW SEEN AS THE SINGLE GREATEST THREAT TO THEIR SURVIVAL. DEFEND YOURSELF!

A hammerblow smashed into my back.

PLASMA BURN! 200 DAMAGE! ARMOR: 630/1000.

I turned and saw my opponent - a Raptor Guard.

Boar Charge.

The Raptor Guard went down, and I followed up with another blow from my hammer.

RAPTOR GUARD DEFEATED! +400 XP!

Plasma blasts filled the air. I switched to Lightning Strikes and lashed out.

At that point, a whistling sound screamed through the sky.

A dozen explosions racked the football field. The blasts hit squarely in the middle of the largest cluster of aliens, and - fortunately - away from where we ultras and the commandos were.

Our side had started shelling while we were still in contact with the enemy.

Exactly as planned.

The aliens reacted as any troops under artillery fire would - by ducking and running for cover.

Taking cover from artillery fire, as Tucker had explained to me one lazy morning in a jeep, was one of the most basic training maneuvers every infantryman had to learn. It didn’t matter if you were human, Sarnak, Raptor or any other type of alien - when the shells landed, you hid until it was over.

Fortunately, we knew when it’d be over.

One salvo. One set of rounds to get the reaction out of the aliens. Keep firing after that - let the sound of shells fill the skies - but only blanks and airbursts.

The Royal Artillery batteries carried out their mission flawlessly. The sound of artillery shells is the same, whether they’re live or blanks - and while we knew the difference, the aliens didn’t.

More than half the aliens disengaged and raced to some sort of cover.

The ultras across the field continued to fight, but now our chances were better. And then, the sweetest sound of the day.

Tank motors roared across the field, as the King’s Royal Hussars armored regiment drove into the stadium.

Muzzle flashes lit up the night sky, and shells began to rain upon the alien positions. The ships they were unloading, alien gear and equipment, some shelters and heavy weapons positions - all were swept away in a storm of fire.

And then the fourth wave ultras arrived.

I was interrupted in my musings by a deep, guttural roar.

I turned.

GRIZZELOID WARRIOR

LEVEL 18

HP 1100/1100

Crap. My fight wasn’t over.

The Grizzeloid and I both charged at each other.

BOAR CHARGE! GRIZZELOID WARRIOR -205 HP.

The Grizzeloid was knocked back. I followed up with a Lightning Strike and a hammerblow.

The Grizzeloid swung at me with a morningstar. I ducked, and hit him with the hammer again.

It tried to grab me in its claws. It missed. Then it reached for its plasma rifle.

I lashed out with Mindstrike.

The Grizzeloid stumbled, bewildered.

My AP was now back to 58.

I hit him with a Deadly Blow.

The impact shattered bones, ribs, and splintered what was left of its armor. The Grizzeloid roared in pain.

I hit it with a Mindstrike again, and then a final smash with the hammer.

The Grizzeloid collapsed, dead.

GRIZZELOID WARRIOR DEFEATED. +750 XP.

YOU HAVE KILLED CREATURES OF 4 SPECIES WITH YOUR HAMMER.

BLUNT WEAPONS INCREASES TO LEVEL 4. +40% DAMAGE WITH BLUNT WEAPONS.

KNOCKOUT BLOW UPGRADED TO LEVEL 2. COST REDUCED TO 50 AP.

Well, that was useful.

A plasma blast interrupted my thoughts.

PLASMA BURN! 200 DAMAGE! ARMOR: 430/1000.

I whirled around.

RAPTOR CAPTAIN

LEVEL 20

HP 800/800

I hurtled forward in a Boar Charge.

BOAR CHARGE! RAPTOR CAPTAIN -205 HP.

The Raptor Captain was knocked backwards. I swung my Battlehammer.

CRITICAL STRIKE! RAPTOR CAPTAIN -212 HP! ELECTRIC SHOCK! RAPTOR CAPTAIN -40 HP! CONDITION INFLICTED: STUNNED!

The Raptor Captain was, indeed, stunned. I took advantage of it and hit him again. And again. And then I hit him with lightning.

RAPTOR CAPTAIN 9/800 HP

I was about to put the bleeding, blinded Raptor out of his misery when a thought struck me. My AP had just crossed 50 again….

This time, I hit the Captain with a Knockout Blow.

SUCCESS! RAPTOR CAPTAIN IS UNCONSCIOUS.

NEW QUEST ALERT: TAKE PRISONERS.

GET THE UNCONSCIOUS RAPTOR CAPTAIN BACK TO FRIENDLY TROOPS ALIVE TO SECURE A PRISONER OF WAR.

REWARDS: +2000 XP, +5 ETHICS, INCREASED RELATIONSHIP WITH STRATOSPHERIC GUARD, INCREASED RELATIONSHIP WITH BRITISH ARMY, SPECIAL TITLE UNLOCKED.

Okay. I’m in the middle of a battlefield, and my power wants me to take a Raptor safely to our troops? While shells and plasma are still flying?

Sure, why not.

: tell the General I’m trying to bring him a prisoner

: say again?

: got an unconscious POW here, taking him to safety

I grabbed the unconscious, bleeding Raptor - damn he was heavy - and raced across the field towards our tanks.

WARNING: RAPTOR CAPTAIN IS BLEEDING (-1 HP/SEC), WILL DIE IN 7 SECONDS.

Blast it. I hit the Raptor Captain with Heal.

RAPTOR CAPTAIN GAINS HEALTH. 82/800 HP. CONDITION BLEEDING REMOVED.

WARNING: RAPTOR CAPTAIN WILL RECOVER CONSCIOUSNESS ABOVE 600 HP.

I used Powerjump.

This time it cost me 3 MP per foot, but it was worth it - in less than a second, I was a hundred and fifty feet closer to the stands.

Fortunately, the troops didn’t mistake me for an alien - not that bullets would have hurt me, but the Raptor Captain had no such protection - and I managed to weave past our front line.

Seconds later, I was racing upto a squad of infantrymen. "Here!" I dumped the Raptor Captain on the ground. "Secure the prisoner!"

The squad leader - a British corporal - looked at me strangely. "Prisoner?"

"Do what the ultra says, Corporal!" yelled a voice from the back. I could see an officer running up, followed by a bunch of soldiers with armbands saying 'MP'.

"Yes sir!" barked the corporal. His squad grabbed the Raptor Captain by the arms and hauled him up.

"Thanks," I gasped. "I have to get back to the battle…."

QUEST COMPLETED: TAKE PRISONERS.

+2000 XP! +5 ETHICS!

TITLE UNLOCKED: ALIEN ABDUCTOR.

YOU HAVE CAPTURED AN ALIEN SOLDIER AND TURNED HIM OVER TO THE MILITARY FOR NEFARIOUS EXPERIMENTS. WELL DONE!

NEW QUEST UNLOCKED: STRANGE TONGUES.

LEARN THE LANGUAGE OF THE RAPTORS BY INTERROGATING THE ALIEN CAPTIVE.

REWARDS: SKILL UPGRADE: ALIEN LORE, NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: RAPTOR SPEECH.

…. I could learn to speak to the Raptors?

No. Battle first, language studies later. I raced back towards the stadium.

: they’re bringing the raptor you got into the medical centre

: there’s chaos here…. Nobody knows what to do with a prisoner

: try to keep him alive …. I might be able to learn their language

: quest?

: yeah

: well survive this battle first, it’s chaos out there

I raced back past the tanks.

…. Why was I racing towards the battle again?

“... you there, Belessar?” came a voice over the radio. Right. Captain Green.

“On my way,” I replied. “You okay?”

“We’re under cover and shooting,” replied the captain. “Aliens seem to be in a panic. Some bear-type things headed this way…”

Right. Get the SAS operatives - currently pinned down and hiding amongst the wreckage of the stand - to safety….

The next few minutes involved a lot of shooting, smashing, and screaming. Mostly alien screaming.

Captain Green’s arm was charred black when I reached him. “I thought you only had bruises?”

“This happened after,” growled Green. “Big lizard took pot-shots at me.”

“Raptor Guard,” I muttered. “Hold still.”

One Heal later, Green’s arm was back to its normal glow. The soldier looked at me. “Whoo. That feels like good stuff.”

“It’s just… powers.”

“Well, can you get your powers to help Corporal Winford?”

I nodded and got to healing.

A plasma blast whined overhead, smashing into a plastic seat above us and setting it on fire.

“Shouldn’t burn plastic,” growled one of the soldiers, “gives off dioxins?”

“You sign up for a long life?” chuckled another, nursing a bleeding leg.

“Hold still,” I interrupted their banter with a couple of Heals. “There. Now you can continue arguing.”

The volume of enemy fire had dropped off, though. The explosions were continuing, but suddenly a loud screech filled the air.

: two alien shuttles just took off

: the third?

: Chikaradzuyoi is inside it and smashing stuff

: less than fifty aliens left on the ground - and the tanks are rolling right over them

: they surrendering?

: how would we know? They’re definitely panicking, though

I sighed, then got up to head back into the fray.

An uninjured Raptor Guard caught my attention. Boar Charge, then the hammer. Another seemed to be bleeding - he was down to 14 HP. I used Knockout Blow. It worked.

UNARMED COMBAT INCREASES TO LEVEL 9.

Another Raptor fired at me and missed. Before I could retaliate, a sharp blade sliced through his chest, killing him instantly.

A brown-and-yellow costumed ultra shimmered into view. Verschwiden, the German hero who could turn invisible. The ultra inclined his head in acknowledgement, then vanished.

Suddenly, the volume of noise dropped.

I scanned the area for any aliens. I could see ultras, human soldiers, tanks… dead aliens …. Where were the rest?

: can you find me a target

: uh… bro… i think it’s over

: there hasn’t been a shot fired by the aliens for the last ten seconds…

…. Was that it?

I was acutely aware of my condition - AP down to fairly low levels, armor at 430 points of a thousand …. No fullersteel pilums left….

I sought out a target with Mindstrike. Nothing - at least nothing alien.

It was over.

+100 XP FOR SUCCESSFULLY EXECUTED BATTLEPLAN.