Ancients, perhaps their entire race one day. But on this day, Commander Snelling would answer the bell of fate.

Alicia walked into the lightly guarded DC Jail, staring at the few who remained on watch rather than fighting the gray-skinned bastards at their gates. She had planned to ask the location of their former military leader, but found there was no need. Instead, the two soldiers on watch simply pointed down one of the halls.

“Cell fourteen.” one of the men said.

As Alicia walked deeper into the hallway of such faint lighting, she approached cell fourteen.

“Alicia, thank God you've returned! Someone has to talk sense into the members of your group!” Snelling yelled.

She was without words, instead pulling one of the punishing pistols from its holster and pointing it into the direction of his face.

“What is the meaning of this? I am your direct superior!” Snelling shouted.

And though his lips uttered the words, all Alicia could see was the memory of women consoling their children, painful explanations of a father who would never return.

She fired a single bullet, the slug shiny as it seemed to glimmer a bit, almost spinning in slow motion before puncturing the forehead of such a traitor. And even as his body abruptly hit the floor, dead flesh thumping onto the unforgiving concrete, Alicia's arm remained extended, smoke trailing a bit from the end of her pistol's barrel.

She had lost one of her pistols during the battle outside the gates of Washington City. Deciding it was a different day, and knowing she would now lead the military side of the Resistance, Alicia dropped the second pistol onto the floor. Moments later, as she exited the long hallway which lead to the city streets, Alicia leaned behind the front desk and pulled a battle-ready rifle. It would serve her better in the fight to come.

 

“They continue to come!” one of the Resistance soldiers yelled as what remained of their first line of defense continued to get shredded with gunfire.

“Fall back two blocks,” Alicia said, approaching the soldiers with no sign of fear attached to her beautiful body. “Give the illusion that they have bested us. When they advance their forces, I will have a dozen cannons waiting to level the very ground that we stand on.”

“Yes, at once,” the soldier said with obedience, more than glad to retreat from possible death. “Fall back men, fall back!”

And with his words, what few soldiers remained began to sprint back deeper into Washington City, several falling to their own deaths in the process.

“The Humans retreat!” an Ancient sniper proclaimed, having seen the situation through the long lens that was attached to his rifle.

“Good, now we advance swiftly and crush them!” the Templar in charge replied, a devilish grin cut into his face.

And though they did so with a bit of caution, the Ancients quickly moved their force up, hundreds of warriors taking the ground which Alicia's own feet had occupied only minutes before.

The Resistance soldiers began firing into the crowd of gray skins with their rifles. Knowing well it wouldn't drive them back, but instead, force them to hold position until a mass of soldiers could be formed. And mass they did. The Ancients quickly moved up thousands of heavily armed demons, their plan to build a spearhead of warriors and then plunge into the city.

“Fire. Fire at will!” Alicia yelled, her words barely beating the throaty sound of cannons firing behind her. There were a dozen or more of the large cannons of iron, each fed by a huge supply line of steam power. They had no need to light a fuse, the steam fed directly into a crankshaft which operated by a spinning wheel of brass.

The soldier in charge of such a massive weapon would spin the wheel, forcing the large weapon to fire a burst of life-ending lead. Then, merely seconds later, the steam fed line had readied the weapon for another shot.

It took the Ancients nearly an hour of fierce fighting to enter the city, but it took less than five minutes for them to realize defeat. They had massed their warriors for an assault, which meant mass casualties once the lead shots from such pounding cannons began exploding around them. On them.

“Retreat! The Human bastards have tricked us! Pull your warriors back before we have nothing to pull back!” The Templar yelled, unsure if his words could even be heard above the loud booms of blasting.

A large force, a spearhead of thousands that was intended to finally break the will of those in Washington City, defeated within minutes as only dozens of Ancients remained. They were shell-shocked and bewildered, nothing short of staggering as they backed away from the battle and attempted to flee.

“Now!” Alicia yelled, prompting a group of nearly fifty Human warriors to give chase; ensuring the people of Washington City that retribution was indeed at hand.

And though it was only a small victory, the Resistance soldiers chasing down and slaying a handful of Ancients that remained, it was a much needed win for the morale of mankind. Hope for those who had made the journey from New Kinneston to Washington City.

“A solid victory.” Jackson, said, approaching Alicia slowly as she watched such heroes return to the safe confines of Guardian Angel.

“Albeit a temporary victory,” she replied, turning to place her hand into his. “They will return soon enough. Continuing to assault our home. Continuing to break us down, piece by piece.”

“And we will continue to defeat them.” Calypso replied, approaching them as he joined in looking across the landscape.

“Ask Preacher, Certes and their crew to remain until sunrise tomorrow. Make sure they are well taken care of until then.” Alicia asked.

“You got it.” Calypso replied.

“Want to help me get our new citizens settled in?” Alicia asked, turning to Jackson with the most amazing eyes.

“Least I can do,” he replied with a smile. “Seeing as how I'm one of them.”

 

And though they would, in the approaching hours, find a place for those who left their homes back in New Kinneston; they stood for several minutes, holding one another and admiring the beauty of the cloud-filled tapestry of a sky above them.

With the coming of nightfall, also came the familiar roar of fighter jets above. They were in retreat, just as they seemed to be every night around dusk as the people of Washington City stopped to observe their air-riding heroes.

“With any luck, we gave 'em hell today.” Jackson said, holding the beautiful body of Alicia snugly in his arms.

“How many Ancient ships have you shot down, if you don't mind my asking?” Alicia asked playfully.

“Thirty or so,” he replied with seriousness. “Been shot down four times myself.”

“You've been shot down four times?” she asked, pulling away from him a bit in wait of a response.

“Yea,” he replied. “Sorry, had I known you'd eventually judge me for it one day, I would've tried harder.”

“Smart ass.” she replied with a grin, falling back into his arms once more.

“I mean, thirty kills and four downs, that's a pretty decent ratio.” Jackson added.

“Yes dear, I wouldn't dare question your ability in combat.” Alicia replied with sarcasm.

And with only the slightest motion, the two found themselves holding one another, deflecting the chilled air of night as they stood; watching the dog fighting above as if it were a fireworks display.

 

“Alicia!” Calypso yelled, approaching the two with haste.

“Yes.” she replied, expecting the urgent news to be not so urgent.

“Preacher and his crew are gearing themselves up to leave out,” Calypso said, doing his best to catch a deep breath in the frigid night air.