The Siege Against Tolkeen

Jack Perrin soared above the Coalition base far below, until the hugest war machines had become tiny black dots, and until the mightiest trees were merely sticks of brown and green. He watched the digital altimeter count upwards, until he was at the proper altitude. Then, with a quick push on the foot-pedals, he caused an abrupt acceleration. The afterburners came to life with a flash of smoke and flame, and the stealth cycle roared ahead.

Technically, Jack thought, this thing isn't a cycle. I'm using a joystick to pilot it, and I'm sitting in a cockpit. Sure handles well, though.

Perrin pushed a button on the console, and a small box appeared on the screen, showing what was below the bike. He saw lush, rolling forests quickly rolling by, marred by concrete pillboxes and grey little army bases, like warts on the face of the wilderness. Slim highways stretched out, connecting the bases.

There were a handful of towns below, as well. There were enormous magical war machines positioned in some of the towns, like floating tanks made of bone, or rune-covered lightning cannons. The ordinary people seemed to be gone. They had been evacuated, no doubt, taken to a more secure position.

Occasionally, if he magnified the image enough, Jack could see hulking grey golems, or even fire or earth elementals. It was all he could do to suppress the urge to abandon his mission and attack the magical atrocities. "They'll die soon enough," he told himself, trying to shove down the rising rage into a tiny, bitter ball of controllable anger. "Every last stinking one of them will die."

The minor air elementals kept a tight attack pattern behind the Coalition aircraft, each ready to attack at a moment's notice. They went unnoticed by the stealth cycle's radar, as all they were was vortexes of swirling winds given life.

"Little brother," their leader said, into a tiny air disturbance by its head. "We have spotted one of your enemies. He is a small one, but fast by your standards. Do we attack?" The disturbance suddenly sped towards a small base below, at an enormous speed.

The magical thing passed through a reinforced ceiling three inches thick, and arrived by the head of a tall man in a blue robe, who sat in the center of the room. He was surrounded by humans and D-Bees who sat at techno-wizard computers. It hovered next to the warlock's ear, and quietly repeated the air elemental's message.

The warlock considered this for a moment, and then created a communications bubble of his own, rolling it out of thin air. He replied into it, "Attack the intruder. Do not let him reach the airspace over Grand Alamar." The bubble shot off into the atmosphere.

Then the warlock turned to the men around him. "There's an intruder in the airspace, too small to be a bomber. It's probably a scout. I want two Falcons sent up after it. This bastard can't be allowed to get near the pyramid, even if it is warded."

A blast hit the afterburners of the stealth cycle, very nearly destroying them. Jack nearly lost control of the aircraft, only barely managing to keep from plummeting out of the skies. He quickly pushed the rear-view button, and saw a force of six whirlwinds in the shape of men. One of them began to surge forward, its ham-sized fists flailing towards the camera.

Instinctively, Perrin pulled up, and soared above the elementals. The one who had tried to attack was left clawing the air, and the others were momentarily confused by the evasive maneuver. Then, they too began to move upwards to engage their hated enemy.

They threw their entire bodies into the assault, literally trying to tackle the cycle. One of them nearly sheared a wing off, but the others were evaded by means of a quick acceleration and barrel roll.

Perrin pressed down hard on the energy pedal, and was suddenly pushed back into his seat by the immense G-Forces. The cycle suddenly doubled its speed, reaching its maximum velocity. "You won't catch me today, you stupid bastards," growled Jack through clenched teeth.

Most of the elementals were left behind, but one of them, the one who had hit the cycle's wing, hung on, and pulled itself onto the front of the vehicle. It raised one hand, to smash through the cockpit.

Jack pressed down onto the trigger. There was a quick burst of brilliant red light from the laser cannons, and the elemental dissipated into mist. Perrin zoomed through it, leaving the dispersed being and its siblings behind. They were unable to catch up.

The forest beneath began to disperse into buildings and small communities. Most of them seemed to be shanty-towns, like dozens of miniature Chi-Town Burbs. Perrin realized that he was getting closer to his target, closer to the central city of Tolkeen. He also realized that the air defenses here were bound to be better.

"Bastard's evaded the elementals," said the warlock. "I want a battery of medium range missiles ready to deploy. Summon all the fighters in the vector. I don't want this spy getting in." The men around the warlock began relaying the orders with their computer consoles.

Jack saw them first only on his radar, but then visually as they closed in on him, coming from behind. There were two techno-wizard fighters, bulky and heavily-armed, but slow and hard to maneuver.

"Surrender or be shot down," croaked a bestial voice over Perrin's radio. The sentence had a strange accent to it, as though American was not the enemy pilot's first language. That meant D-Bee. And D-Bee meant evil.

"You think you can catch me?" asked Jack, his voice filled with malice. "Then bring it on."

As in response, the TW machine-guns of the two planes began chattering away, spitting bolts of pure force. The bursts were easily evaded by a quick downwards dive.

"That all you got to offer me?" screamed Jack. "If that's the case, your frigging country's doomed!"

A pair of medium range missiles suddenly shot out at Perrin, emerging from the undercarriage of one of the warplanes, and locking onto the stealth cycle, following it and gradually catching up.

Perrin suddenly turned his aircraft, to face the pursuing explosives. They rushed in to destroy him, as he lined them up in the sights of his laser cannons. There was a burst of energy and then a gout of smoke and flame as the two missiles exploded. The stealth cycle was scorched by the flames, but remained intact.

The two warplanes zoomed in towards Perrin, who was in turn rushing at them. The orcish pilot of one of the planes lined up a perfect shot at the cockpit with his TW machine-guns, and pulled the trigger. But in the split second between the thought and execution of his deed, the stealth cycle pulled up, leaving the magical guns blasting air. Almost effortlessly, the stealth cycle began cruising just overhead of the two warplanes.

Perrin's radar read that more enemies were incoming. Lots more. So, as the two fighter planes began to turn upwards to face the stealth cycle, Jack pushed on the accelerator again, and rushed ahead. By the time that the two warplanes were facing him again, he was miles away. Taking his cue, the two pilots began to push on their accelerators to close the gap.

"Open fire with the missiles!" barked the warlock. "He's too close! If he comes in low, he'll see the pyramid!"

A roof-mounted letterbox-style battery of medium range missiles began to aim upwards to the skies. Its operators, a pair of conscripted soldiers, looked up, anxiously awaiting their foe's arrival.

Perrin was astonished as a missile zoomed up past him, missing by only a few feet. He looked down, to see a missile launcher, which was opening fire with everything that it had. Steeling his nerves against the pitching and rolling, Jack began evasive maneuvers. "So close," he reminded himself. "It would be stupid to die here."

A wing of six light fighters began to close in from the distance, coming in from the front. Missiles were soaring up into the heavens like birds taking flight, and to evade them, Jack was having to pitch and roll like a gargoyle on acid. But it made no difference to him. Looking at his coordinator, he saw that he was in the right place. Looking down, he could see nothing save the towering skyscrapers and sprawling apartment buildings of Grand Alamar. There was nothing that looked like a secret weapon.

"Looks all clear," he reported over his radio, back to the air force base. "Seems that those reports were just rumors."

"We roger that," replied a voice which was heavily furred by static and disruption. "Return to base."

"I don't think that's possible," grunted Perrin, trying to dodge a volley of incoming laser fire from the light warplanes. "Good luck with your war."

Jack then turned off the radio, and faced straight ahead, towards one of the incoming enemy planes. What the hell, he reasoned to himself. I didn't think I was gonna survive this one.

The enemy pilot was a frightened teenager from the sticks. He had only wanted to be a farmer, and was terrified when he got drafted and tossed into a fighter after a brief crash course in flying. A more experienced pilot might have taken proper actions to avoid Perrin's suicide run. But this pilot was just a frightened kid.

The stealth cycle hit the fighter plane dead on. The enemy pilot saw a black metal point coming through his cockpit, and then he died. The two aircraft burst into flames, and went spiraling towards the ground. They crashed in an abandoned apartment building, going straight through the roof and smashing through several floors, before the twisted metal and broken bodies finally settled into an immobile heap.

Jack Perrin found himself sprawled out, trapped beneath a mass of slag and pinned under a metal beam from the enemy plane's frame. His armor had saved his life, but he was unable to move, and pain shot through his body. There was also the terrible knowledge that sooner or later the Tolkeen police would find him, and would probably torture or kill him. But, in a strange way, he was happy to be alive.

Looks like the devil takes care of his own, he thought to himself.

Next Chapter

By David Haendler.

Copyright © 1996, 1997, 1998 David Haendler. All Rights Reserved.

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