~August 3rd, 2019, Western Ohio, United States, Planet Earth, Ceti Universe~
Major Croft cruised west from Wright-Patterson AFB at 30,000 feet. The Pratt & Whitney of his F-35 whined behind him as he looked to his right. First Lieutenant Jameson lined up just to the right of his wing-mate. Croft watched closer to see how Jameson lined up. Jameson was new to the squadron and more used to the F-22 Raptor. So far, the kid seemed to have the gist of things. His record was pretty good, and he had strong recommendations.
"Control, this is Ram One on path to Bogey. Any word on the bogey? Bogey is not on our radar"
"Ram One, this is Control. Bogey should be visible in less than two minutes. It remains unidentified and on approach on your heading. No indication of being spotted at other stations. Perhaps entry from Canada. Proceed as advised."
"Copy that Control, Ram One out. Did you receive Ram Two?"
Jameson came back over the radio, "copy Ram One. Think it's one of those UFO's that's been spotted near Toledo? Make things more interesting around here sir."
"We don't get paid to guess Jameson. Let's just identify this thing so we can get back home in time for supper."
"Copy that sir."
The radio went quiet as they looked ahead for whatever it was that Control was tracking. As another minute went by, a speck appeared in the distance moving quickly on a southern route.
"Control, bogey unidentified target spotted on southern route. We are fangs out."
"Copy that Ram One, fangs out."
He and Jameson increased their thrust and angled to intercept the unidentified aircraft. As they approached the aircraft it increased its own speed as well. Croft called to Jameson to again increase speed. As they neared the craft Jameson began to get nervous.
"Ram Two to Ram One, are you seeing what I'm seeing?! What the hell is that thing?"
"Compose yourself Lieutenant. Control, this is Ram One do you copy"
"This is Control. What did Ram Two say? Have you identified the bogey?"
"That would be a negative Control. Target is..." Croft paused, "target is like nothing I've ever seen before. Any chance we have anything being tested?"
"Negative Ram One, no tests scheduled at the moment. Please describe the aircraft."
Again, Croft paused, "bogey appears to be red, roughly the size of a Chinook with a steel looking door on the side. And... a pontoon looking thing off of each side. A faint blue light is coming from what appear to be engines of some sort. No identifiers as to origins. Some strange symbol to the front of the craft. What are orders of engagement?"
"Uh, Ram One, attempt to achieve radio communication. If target refuses to communicate, assume hostile and remove target from our air space. Copy?"
"Copy Control. Proceeding to engage. Unidentified aircraft, you are in American air space. Please respond. If you refuse to respond we will be forced to assume you are hostile."
No response from the aircraft. Croft and Jameson began to maneuver towards the rear of the aircraft. Croft's visor began to scramble. Suddenly the craft surged forward and moved to a southeastern direction.
"Jameson! Break left and fire full blower. Don't let whatever that is get away. My HUD is acting up."
Jameson came back immediately, "mine too sir. Sir... what in the hell is that thing?"
"Not our concern. Bogey has not responded; therefore, we are to engage. Repeat, engage hostile bogey."
Jameson hesitated as he moved to intercept the craft. The aircraft seemed to know what they were doing and dove towards the earth below.
"Ram One, target is moving into the weeds. Target is locked. Fox Three Fire One."
The first of his Sidewinders shot off towards the craft. As it nearly reached the point of impact it started to spin out of control. Jameson's jaw dropped as the missile fell harmlessly away. The aircraft darted straight vertically into the clouds.
"Ram One, bogey is AWOL and Fox Three failed to hit it off."
Croft looked around for the aircraft. He and Jameson climbed into the cloud bank and above. He couldn't see the aircraft. Jameson's breathing began to speed up over the radio. How in the hell did that thing move the way it did? Raytheon's Sidewinders didn't fail out like that. He ordered Jameson to control his breathing and look for their target. A flash of light rose up from the clouds. Still nothing on radar. Faint blue light began to pulse on the craft.
"Jameson check your six! Check your six! Break right!"
The blue pulse solidified, and a beam shot straight into the rear of Jameson's F-35. It was replaced by a ball of fire. Croft pulled his jet vertical in attempt to outmaneuver the craft. He kept his eyes on the enemy. It continued straight, as if nothing had happened. Croft maneuvered around behind the craft. His finger hovered over the trigger as he lined up his four-barrel 25mm cannon. Seconds ticked by and a shimmer appeared in front of them. The craft was heading straight for it. There was no way in hell this thing was getting away with taking Jameson's life. His 184 rounds were unloaded in less than three seconds an explosion flowered from the right pylon of the craft as it entered the shimmering space. He flung his arms over his face as the tip of his fighter disappeared. The next thing he felt was the inertia of spinning rapidly. As he yanked his ejector a forest filled his vision. Air whooshed and his helmet caught the lip of his canopy. Before he blacked out, he heard the pop of his chute and what appeared to be sun glinting off glass in the distance.
~3 hours later~
~Planet Calo, Beta Universe~
Croft woke up startled and disoriented. Creatures shrieked all around him and this strange forest seemed to be full of noise. He grabbed his ruck and unclasped his 9mm Beretta. Smoke rose from what he assumed was his west. He headed off in that direction. At the least he could assure Jameson was avenged even if he never saw his family again. Something akin to an iguana climbed the tree next to him as he walked. After walking for two more hours he heard grunts and what seemed to be words. At the end of a short rut in the soil was the enemy ship. It was oddly shaped like something he saw on Star Trek reruns when he was a kid. This thing was massive and yet moved like his jet had.
Two motorcycle looking vehicles were unloaded from the rear of the craft. Nearby were four more quadrupedal creatures covered in armor of some kind. All in all, he counted seven. Whatever they were saying seemed garbled by their helmets. Their bodies seemed to be covered in an armor-plated suit and the visors on their helmets were very similar to his own. The smallest individual said something, and the two hovering motorcycles took off. Its gear was different than the others including small antennae coming from the helmet and back. Croft had to assume that was the pilot. Even if not then it was obviously at least the one in charge.
His first shot glanced off the shoulder of that individual and the second clipped the craft. The four larger remaining beings faced him and ran. Croft fled north away from them and turned west. In the moments before he lost consciousness... he had seen light. Well above the forest canopy, it had appeared to be more glass than metallic. Buzzes of electricity ricocheted off the trees as he ran. A sweet smell caught his attention and almost slowed him down. It was distracting, he couldn't figure out what was putting it off. A large tree moved across his path. Glancing up, Croft saw a massive six-legged sloth-like creature. The pounding of the four creatures chasing him wasn't enough to conceal his pounding heart.
His radio suddenly crackled to life but the noises coming across made no sense to him. Through a thin spot in the canopy he saw a tall triangular tower. New sounds began to drown out the noises of the forest, sounds Croft couldn't begin to explain. Obviously, he was on some alien world. How was he gonna get home? He didn't have enough ammunition to fight those creatures plus survive for who knew how long. Up ahead he could now see massive gray doors. Black material framed them in and faint green light beyond that. One of the four-legged creatures ran onto the path in front of him and held it's hands out as if to ask him to stop.
"What are you? Why were you on my planet? Do you understand me?"
The creature grunted and removed it's helmet. Some kind of beak thing clicked and grunted. It stepped closer to him, one of its three fingered hands reaching over its shoulder and grabbing a rifle-like weapon. Croft raised his pistol and took aim.
"Don't do it man... er... thing. I'm telling you I will shoot."
It lowered the weapon to the ground and raised it's hands to chest level. Croft lowered his Beretta. The other three creatures approached him from behind and the one in front immediately called out to them. They slung their weapons onto their backs and crossed their arms over their chests. The helmet-less one approached him, bowing slightly, and waving towards the doors. Croft approached the creature and began walking next to it. The other three took up formation behind them. Together they walked on, the creatures from this world watching to either side, occasionally letting out some sort of screech at critters in the dark. The doors were over forty feet tall and twenty feet wide. Slowly they opened inward, revealing a small group of creatures, perhaps a dozen in all.
There appeared to be three different species of beings awaiting on the other side. Five of the bird-centaur things were to the left of the group. They were all various shades of blues and greens with different patterns across their lower halves. Their bright colors offsetting the brown soil and reddish sky. Three squat figures, wider than they were tall, had almost human-like skin tones. Their mouths were nearly as wide as their heads and fat four toe feet stuck out beneath their pants. The other four creatures were taller than him by at least a foot. Their eyes bore a slight resemblance to the gray aliens the nut jobs back home swore abducted them, but the resemblance stopped there. These guys were at least seven-feet tall and slender human-like builds. Croft could make out what looked like tiger stripes on their faces and arms.
One of the squat creatures ventured forth towards him and his escorts, "welcome back T'Chaln. And welcome to you, human pilot. Do you have any injuries?"
Croft just shook his head in stunned silence. This thing spoke English. How the hell did it do that?
"No, I don't speak your language human," a grin, at least what appeared to be a grin, appeared on the little nutmeg face, "and no I can't read your mind. Well, not exactly. My tall friends back their can read your mind as well as communicate telepathically. My people as well as the Carnaps are sensitive to scents and auras. My understanding and speaking of your language are due to those and the nanobots we all have in our bodies. We are representatives of the Caloran Consortium."
Croft looked at the assembled party and beyond. Rising into the red sky were skyscrapers that dwarfed what humanity had built. Glass reflected the strange sunlight from two stars. Vehicles flew in all directions at different heights. Traffic flowed everywhere but the air here smelled so pure, although he was beginning to feel a slight dizziness from everything he was seeing. He could see no end to the structures of various shapes built of slightly tinted glass. No smoke came from the vehicles nor any noise. As a matter of fact, the only sounds he could really hear seemed to emanate from the forest behind him. Croft began to ponder how everyone back home would react when they learned just how big the universe was. He couldn't wrap his head around just what was going on while the talking creature continued explaining the Consortium and communication ideas. He was facing one hell of a debriefing.