Some months later, the Krell Empire was attacked at multiple points and is in its death throes as I speak.
“And there you have it, Tony. In a nutshell, your mentors have gone and soon, so will your whole stinking political career!”
Cromwell felt weak with fear for his own safety but still wouldn’t entertain the idea that what the stranger had said was in any way true and his fault. Over the years he had rationalized his deeds and thinking, now believing The New Version of The Truth. The Stranger was wrong! He, Cromwell, was the most successful Prime Minister in British history. He could not be brought to account by a mere Off World Contractor!
The door opened and another soldier entered. A woman this time, dressed in the same type of Combat Darksuit as The Stranger and with a comm tablet in her hands that she handed to her superior, “Communication for you, Commander Kondor”.
Cromwell was aghast, “Commander Kondor?”
Commander Kondor glanced at the information, then at Cromwell, “Showtime, Tony.”
The Last Prime Minister of England squirmed again to look at his Vid Console that was now lit up totally. Even the S.A.S. Counter-Terrorist light. He felt a faint glimmer of hope and thought ‘They’ll be here soon!’
Commander Kondor saw the look and laughed, “My friend, General Wilson of the S.A.S. has ordered his men to stand down and co-operate with my Legions. Look out of the window, Tony.”
In the dusk the far Krell tower seemed to lift in the air ever so slightly, and then in clouds of dust it began to collapse down onto its base.
Cromwell let out a subdued squeal as he realized it was not only the Tower that had been destroyed.
“No reinforcements from what is left of the Krell Navy either, Tony."
“What have you done? This is monstrous!”
“There’s only one monster in this room Tony and it’s you. Keep looking.”
In the distance as the dust began to settle it looked as if the stars themselves were dropping from the sky. Points of light falling and leaving a silver trail vertically in the evening sky.
“The Drop Ships of Kondor’s Legions are coming home! By tomorrow night we will have executed the people who aided and abetted you. That means most of your fellow Members of Parliament and most of the so-called political elite! We will then be running this country and it will become great again as the starting point of Earths Interstellar Exploration and Technology.”
Cromwell’s mouth dropped open with shock, “No, no. This cannot be happening!”
“This is Prime Minister’s Question time, Tony. The occasion you relish, I am told.” Kondor moved his face close to Cromwell again and spoke in a more personal voice, “Why? For god’s sake why did you do this to your own people?”
Cromwell spluttered. For the first time in his political career he had no answer.
All was dark now over Cromwell’s estate. Attack Group A00100EH prowled the grounds. The Main Residence was in total darkness, all light extinguished. There was a brief green flash at one of the windows as a plasma pistol was discharged.
THE END
Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, won't you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favourite retailer? Many thanks! George H. Y. Watson. Torrevieja, Spain April 2019.
OTHER BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR: All are available at Amazon Books.
THE BREAKOUT SHIP.
The Expeditionary Fleets flew from Earth in all directions, desperately seeking signs of alien life.
No life was ever found, only the remnants of long dead civilizations.
But there was a bounty in the old ruins; Alien technology that could be duplicated and sometimes used for the greater good of mankind.
Sometimes.
EMPIRE OF THE GREEN SUN.
Dear Reader,
There exist no definitive records pertaining to the race called the Krells, nor indeed to the location of their home planet Krella Prime.
All the information that we, the Trills of the Epsilon Gas Worlds, possess comes from a few tattered copies of something called ‘The Encyclopaedia Krellania’ found amongst the ancient ruins on an insignificant planet at the end of the third spiral arm.
After much deliberation over the strange alien concepts therein, I have managed to glean the following segments of information from those ancient tomes so that you may be informed and entertained as you float amongst the methane clouds of Home Planet.
Yours truly,
Scribe Dekker 3345.
INTERPLANETARY TALES.
Fourteen Science Fiction tales that span the galaxy; From a plague-ravaged London to the Galactic Core, from the Krell Empire of the Green Sun to the Epsilon-Eridani System where human mercenaries fight for a hated alien race.
'Interplanetary tales' is a varied selection of stories containing humour, horror and a deep fear of the dark places between the stars.
ROBOTS FROM EARTH.
Through the streets of Seattle we marched in perfect synchronicity with each other, a feat achievable only because we were robots. From the Interstellar Navy Base we headed towards the distant shuttle field where we would be taken up to join the 18th Expeditionary Fleet on its first voyage to Core-Star 33.
Not far in front of us were the fifteen thousand marching humans who were also Navy personnel, but volunteers. They had preceded us just minutes before and the thronging celebratory crowds were still throwing ticker tape and flowers to the brave sailors. Occasionally a civilian would run among the marching heroes to present one of them with either a garland of Victory-Flowers or a gift to comfort them on their long voyage.
Above us the midday sky glittered with the bright stars that were our waiting spacecraft readying for departure. We were ninety-four robots of varying designs marching four a breast, each with the grey letter ‘P’, denoting Penal Servitude, upon our left breast. We must have looked a sorry lot. I alone also had the red cross of the Medical Service on my right breast. We had all been naughty robots, possibly bad robots, but too costly to destroy.
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