If you think you know somebody who resembles any of the characters here, congratulations, but you're wrong - any similarity between the characters in this story and any real person is purely coincidental, since all of these characters are figments of my imagination.

This is my story, not yours. Don't sell it or put it on a pay site. You can keep it and/or give it away with all of this information intact, but if you make money off of it without my permission, you're breaking the law and pissing me off.

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Once again the chilling sounds of the General Quarters alarm sounded, and weary feet, only recently stilled after the last battle, pounded the steel decks as sailors raced for their battle stations.

Missile batteries swung smoothly toward the cruiser's port quarter, where the sun was just beginning to set, as the fire control computer automatically set their guidance systems for multi-detection mode. Within fifteen seconds of the first alarm, the missile tubes breathed tongues of fire in the direction of the hostile craft. Streaking outward from the cruiser, the missiles activated every sensor they had on board except infrared. The computers understood that firing into the sun would cause false infrared readings. Radar, lidar, magnetic resonance, and several other, newer and still classified sensor arrays went to work to find the incoming target. The ship's more sophisticated sensors fed tracking data into their computers, and even though their own detectors could not find a target, the missiles took a loose collision course toward the enemy weapons.

Twenty two missiles were fired - twice as many as the incoming targets, a tactic that had proven successful and necessary in previous attacks.

Suddenly, the incoming projectiles began an intricate evasive pattern, each executing a series of zigs, zags, loops, rolls, and crossing maneuvers. The cruiser's fire control computers plotted the separate tracks of each of the eleven incoming objects, and designated a pair of the cruiser's own missiles to intercept each. The problem was not in figuring out where the objects were headed, but in guessing how quickly they would resume their course. Ultimately, each would converge on the cruiser, and the fire control computer's job was to try to predict when they would straighten out for the final run, and what the trajectory would be. If it did its job well, at least one of the cruiser's missiles would be there to intercept each enemy missile. If it guessed wrong, the USS Kerry, would be in deep trouble.

The gunnery officer watched his plot with the outward calm he had developed to cover the seething snakepit of emotion that tore at his guts.

"Laser batteries, stand by." He said quietly. The order was relayed by a sailor wearing a sound-powered phone headset.

Suddenly, the number of targets on the plot doubled. Simultaneously, the tracking systems on board the defensive missiles found their own targets as their sensors began detecting the incoming objects, but there were too many and some of the cruiser's missiles were already beyond the point where they could turn to intercept. The sky some ten miles from the cruiser came alive with bright flashes as the interceptor missiles collided with or exploded near their targets.

"Laser batteries, free fire, five targets." The gunnery officer said, his voice still calm while inside he raged at this new twist of a devious enemy's technology. Dividing missiles! Every time they thought they had what it took to defeat these damned space aliens, they came up with something new!

"Sir!" The sailor on the sound-powered phones said to the officer. "Laser batteries report no effect from direct hits, sir! They seem to have some kind of energy shield!"

"Put the squawk on the box." The officer told the sailor, "All batteries, double up! I want at least two lasers on each missile!"

"But sir...!" The sailor, a gunner's mate third class, started to protest.

"Relay the order sailor!" The officer cut him off. "As soon as one missile is destroyed, shift fire to another."

"Aye, aye sir!" The sailor spoke into his headset.

A few seconds later, cheers burst through the speaker on the sound powered amplifier as one of the missiles detonated five miles away. Two more followed in short order, and the fourth disintegrated a hundred yards off the starboard side. The fifth missile destroyed battery four and blew the aft missile turret off its tracks.

Smoke and flame billowed from the twisted metal that had once been Laser Battery Four as damage control teams converged on the wreckage with fire hoses. The gunnery officer thought of the letters he was going to have to write to the families of the crewmen inside, and thanked Providence that he was on a newer ship that no longer carried projectile firing guns. At least he wouldn't incur any more casualties as the ammo in the magazines cooked off.

He had known the numbers wouldn't add up when he gave the order to double up the lasers, and so had the kid on the phones, but better to leave only one missile untouched than all five. At least, he thought, we won't be swimming home.

"Bridge requests a sit-rep, sir!" The petty officer on the phones interrupted his musings.

'Guns' picked up the worn handset from the bracket on the stanchion next to him and depressed the 'talk' button as he placed it to his ear.

"Gunnery Officer to bridge." He said. "Initial targets numbered eleven, that is one-one. Countermeasures deployed per procedure at a ratio of two to one. New sensors aboard defensive missiles were initially ineffective, but shipboard systems were able to provide effective guidance. At a range of approximately ten miles, number of targets doubled, reducing defensive ratio to one-to-one. Whatever mechanism was employed to split the incoming devices apparently negated their stealth measures and defensive missiles instantly acquired and tracked targets. Some enemy missiles were already within the intercept perimeter, but most performed well, reducing incoming devices to five. Laser batteries immediately opened fire, but discovered some sort of energy shield that protected the missiles from laser damage. Gunnery Officer, Lieutenant Sileski then ordered batteries to fire at targets in pairs. This tactic was effective against four of the remaining missiles. The fifth struck battery four. Damage control teams are at the scene."

The dry, factual delivery of his report belied the twisting in his guts as Lieutenant Sileski thought of the men manning that battery.

"Fire Control to bridge." He said again into the phone. "Were we able to track these back to their source?"

"That's a negative, Fire Control." Came the equally dry reply.

The MIG pilot banked sharply left, automatically checking his six as his G-suit tightened up on his body, keeping the blood up where he needed it against the centrifugal force of his turn. Sure enough, the alien craft was closing fast. He prayed that his wingman's timing was as good as when they practiced the maneuver in training, otherwise, he was going to be dead in a few seconds. His HUD showed him the plot as his wingman came around, lining up perfectly for the shot. The display blossomed with the icons of two of the new air-to-air missiles with advanced tracking technology. He continued his downward spiral as the missiles converged on the red icon of the enemy craft. The flash over his shoulder told him of at least one direct hit.

To his astonishment, not only did the icon for the alien craft not disappear from the display, it sprouted two red X's: Missiles that were now streaking toward both MIGs!

In panicked Cantonese, the pilot relayed this information to ground control just before one of the missiles flew up his tail and detonated.

The explosion sent what remained of the MIG into a flat spin, and the pilot managed to pull the ejection handle just as the spin started to destabilize. As he shot skyward, the pilot watched the mangled wreckage of the once state of the art MIG tumble earthward. His canopy opened, and as he swung like a pendulum in the bright spring air, he noticed another parachute floating earthward to the south.

The alien craft, looking like nothing so much as fried egg - a flat black, non-reflective fried egg, swooped toward the chutes and the pilot thought they were about to be shot where they hung, a mile or more above the Earth. Instead, the enemy executed a graceful victory roll and disappeared heavenward, climbing faster than the MIG could dive.

Suddenly, out of the Sun, two more MIGs, these bearing Russian markings, fired six missiles at the alien craft. Three intercepted its course and detonated simultaneously, blowing it to pieces. There was no parachute bearing the alien pilot to safety.

The Russian MIGs did a fly-by past the descending chutes. The Chinese Pilots released their lines long enough to offer a salute to their new comrades.

The horses' hooves sounded thunderous in the narrow defile as the Mujahedeen raced for shelter. They had almost made it when something flashed and the horses carrying the shipment of weapons disappeared in a thunderclap, along with several of the Afghan warriors.

The situation room at the White House was abuzz with low voiced conversations as the President stepped through the door. As if a blanket had been thrown over the room, the noise died and all stood as the President took his seat.

With a nod to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, he folded his hands on the table and waited.

General Horton, USAF, stood and cleared his throat. Using a remote pointer, he summarized the latest attacks. "The enemy has struck military targets here, here and here in US territory, and according to our best intelligence, has simultaneously launched strikes against China, Korea - North and South, Japan, India, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, Egypt, Australia, and the European alliance. Russia, for some reason, was spared in this round, but a couple of their MIGs engaged and shot down an alien fighter that had just downed two Chinese MIGs. As we have seen in the past, now that we have sensors to defeat his latest stealth technology, he has once more introduced new technology. His missiles, while retaining all of their previous capabilities, are now capable of splitting into two parts as they approach their target, each with its own guidance. Uss Kerry, which was recently refitted with the latest sensors and laser batteries, took out all but one of the missiles that was launched at her, but that one was enough to cripple her and kill five crewmen. As in previous attacks, damage was relatively light at all facilities hit, and casualties low, but each time we get hit, morale takes a beating, sir. We need to find a way to hit back, and quickly!"

President Wang nodded. "Thank you General. What have you got for us Edward?"

The Homeland Security chief didn't bother to stand. His laptop rested on the table in front of him and he continued manipulating it as he answered, reading from the screen as he talked. "The results appear to be the same for all the other militarized nations, Mr. President. The enemy, instead of hitting with overwhelming force and knocking out the military capabilities of any nation, seems intent on playing some kind of cat-and-mouse game whose purpose is not yet clear. He strikes with technology that is only slightly better than ours, escalating to greater capability only after we have learned to effectively counter what he's already thrown at us. I don't know if that's because his own resources are limited, or if it's some sort of honor code, or what. We still haven't been able to open any sort of communication with the inhabitants of those spaceships."

"Damn!" President Wang muttered. "What do our neighbors have to say?"

"They're still pushing for an alliance, Sir." The Secretary of State answered. "Even some of the nations listed as harboring terrorists are promising to clean up their act, if only we'll help save them from whatever, or whoever keeps smacking us."

"I'm reluctant to expand our commitments beyond NATO," The President said in response to the unasked question, "but we may have to. Let's start feeling them out and see what they have to offer."

"How'd the latest round of launches go?" Wang turned to the newly appointed head of the Joint Military Space Expeditionary Force.

"We got a few effectives into orbit, Sir." General Cooper, USMC, replied. "We lost most of em' before they left the atmosphere. They only sent one ship to deal with us, but with only five of ours, unable to maneuver much, only one was able to launch its shuttle before it got hit. Even then, it was touch and go whether they'd have enough fuel to achieve a stable orbit. They sure as hell haven't got enough to launch a strike, but life support's good and they've got supplies. Hopefully we can get fuel to them, and reinforcements, so they'll be able to carry out their mission. The Europeans also got some guys into orbit, and they've got some fuel, apparently, but their ammo and supplies are low, as is their training in zero-G."

"Why don't we see if we can cut a deal with them, Neal?" the President spoke to the Secretary of State. "Maybe with their fuel and our ammo, we can get some kind of mission together that will put a team aboard one of those ships."

"Anything else to add?" The President swept his gaze around the room, and when no one answered, stood to leave. "All right. Keep me posted."