“Colonel, this is it I think. I think the ship is going to land here.” Crater said over the communicator. Blackshade sent an acknowledgement signal to his pilot.
“Ok, Air Soldiers! This is it! I want a perimeter established around the alien craft right now! GO, GO, GO!” he ordered.
The fleet of aircraft under his command banked away from the formation heading toward their pre-determined positions. They surrounded the alien ship and formed a perimeter, not to stop the aliens from proceeding, but to stop Candaerican citizens from accessing the aliens. Over two hundred and fifty aircraft were currently under his command, which was the biggest fleet he’d ever been in control of. In regular circumstances, a fleet this large would have been enough to take on China. Now, for the task at hand, it felt like a skeleton force.
Surrounding a ship the size of the aliens’ with two hundred and fifty aircraft and just over three thousand soldiers was a monumental task. In order to accomplish it, he had divided his forces into four different squadrons. On the ten-mile-long sides of the ship, he had sent one hundred of his hover-choppers, each with their own ten to fifteen man teams, to stretch out along the perimeter. One hover-chopper took up position every five hundred and twenty-eight feet along the long sides of the alien ship. Zahera was in command of the eastern section of hover-choppers, and Under Colonel Nevaeh Rhodes was in charge of the western contingent. Under Colonel Rhodes was the second in command of the hover-chopper squadron out of Whiteman Army Air Corp Base, Missouri. Blackshade had never met her before, but from what he could tell, she had her head on straight and was performing incredibly well, given the situation.
On the shorter sides of the alien craft, twenty-five hover-choppers took up position every four hundred and twenty-two feet. Colonel Five Rodriguez was in charge of the south section, while he, himself, was in charge of the northern contingent. Colonel Rodriguez was the commander of the hover-chopper squadron out of Whiteman Army Air Corp base. Blackshade had flown with him back in his B-52 days, with Colonel Rodriguez flying in an F-35, acting as his escort. He didn’t know the man well, but from what he could remember, he never failed him during an exercise and had always performed his escort duties very well, so he had confidence in his ability and leadership.
The pilots in each contingent reported to their Commanders, and they, in turn, reported directly to him. This ensured that there was as much coverage around the ship as possible. Unfortunately, having hundreds of feet between aircraft and only ten to fifteen soldiers each to patrol those sectors, his forces were spread impossibly thin. In the event of the aliens attacking, everyone was to retreat and regroup before taking the fight back to the aliens. For now, their job was to maintain the perimeter, and ensure no over-zealous citizens breached it and caused an incident.
Blackshade watched as his fleet spread out and began deploying their compliments of Air Soldiers, so they could in turn deploy their port-a-cades. Blackshade loved port-a-cade technology. Port-a-cades were automated kits that were two feet long and carried with a suitcase-like handle. When deployed, they sprang up and fired six, eight-foot-long posts, two feet into the ground. Once implanted the posts sent raw currents of electricity between each other, forming a very intimidating and formidable barrier between unauthorized individuals and whatever the port-a-cades were protecting. The posts also began monitoring the surrounding area for seismic vibrations that would indicate either people or vehicles. Dependent on the setting of the barricades, they would either disperse coma-tabs to neutralize human threats, shut down vehicle engines via a focused EMP blast, or, they could electrify the surrounding area to stun approaching enemies. The only down side to using port-a-cades was that if the person deploying them didn’t correctly input the defense settings, they were as useful as a stop sign. All port-a-cades came equipped with flashing lights and horns to help gain people’s attention and disorient them, should the need arise. As Blackshade watched his soldiers erect the barriers around the ship, he found the flashing lights almost comforting.
When he could no longer see them, he checked on his fleet through his helmet display. Voyeur drones were everywhere, so linking to one and projecting its display on his visor was instantaneous. So far, his plan seemed to be working perfectly. Everyone was in position within minutes, and the Air Soldiers on the ground were setting up their barricades quickly. With a little luck, they would have the entire area secured before any unauthorized personnel knew any better. Crater flew them into a position Blackshade thought might be the front of the ship. He had set himself up in the center of the north end of the alien craft. It was facing towards Roswell, which was why Blackshade thought it may have been the front. With a one in four chance to be right, he figured his odds were as good as any.
“Colonel!” Crater said urgently over the communicator.
“I see it, Lieutenant.” he answered flatly. There was no way he could’ve missed it, as he watched the alien ship begin to descend. A soft, white light had begun to emanate from the bottom of the ship as it slowly lowered itself towards the ground. Tapping into a few voyeurs, Blackshade watched as the ship slowly got closer to the ground. He noticed that the desert plants underneath the ship were being flattened, as though a massive weight was settling on top of them. This was strange, only because there was no wind or any kind of disturbance coming from the ship as it landed, just the softly glowing light. Curious, Blackshade tapped some inputs on his arm display. Overriding one of the voyeur drones using his military command codes, he piloted the drone closer to the space between the alien ship and the ground. He flew the machine to within one foot of the space between the alien ship and the ground and then used the drone’s sensors to scan the ground. As the drone began computing the data, a window popped up on his helmet display.
“Dude, man! Why’d you hack my drone?” a pimply face young man asked, irritably. Blackshade was startled by this. He hadn’t realized the drone he had taken over was privately owned. Not that what he had done was illegal, with martial law declared, there was very little he could do that would be considered illegal. Hacking one’s way into a military communication network to ask about your drone though, that was very illegal. Looking at the display, he saw that the boy was named Jamandus Jackson, and that he lived in Dexter, New Mexico; which was just one town over.
“Jamandus Jackson, I am Colonel Blackshade of the Candaerican Army Air Corp. Your state is under martial law, and I’ve commandeered your drone for military use. It will be returned to you when I’m done with it.” he said sternly. “Also, you are currently in violation of the Communication Sanctity Statute, and by making this unauthorized communiqué, you are subject to arrest and subsequent incarceration for up to two years.”
The boy on the display was obviously frightened by this and ran off the view screen, yelling for his dad. Blackshade disconnected the link, annoyed. Aliens land in New Mexico, and he gets hacked by a snot-nosed little brat; his patience was wearing very thin. A quiet ding sounded in his helmet, letting him know the drone was finished with its calculations. It showed that the density of the ground directly under the space craft was over two thousand percent denser than the ground outside of the landing zone. The spacecraft, the light it was projecting, and the fact it was there at all didn’t register to the drone, but Blackshade hadn’t expected it to. He studied the information being fed to him from the hijacked drone. According to the reading, the ground being illuminated by the light had increased in density by an absurd amount. He could see the plants caught in-between had been squashed completely flat. Any liquid that had been inside of them squirted out from the perimeter of light like a wet sponge being wrung out. All of the rocks and debris under the ship had either been forced deep into the ground or completely pulverized. It seemed to him that the light was acting like landing gear for the spaceship, and anything caught underneath it had been destroyed to facilitate a smooth landing.
A communication request sprang up from Under Colonel Rhodes on his display. With a flick of his eyes,
he opened the channel.
“What have you got, Under Colonel?” he asked professionally.
Under Colonel Rhodes answered just as professionally, “Colonel Blackshade, Sir! We appear to have some casualties. It seems that a group of campers were caught underneath the ship. There was nothing we could have done, Sir. Just thought you should be aware.” she reported. She supplemented her report by sending him images of the campers. It was impossible to determine how many people had been in the camp when it was flattened, due to the fact that their camper, belongings, and the unfortunate individuals were now completely pulverized and indistinguishable as anything other than a glistening mass. A combination of vehicle and human fluids were sprayed all over the landscape where the liquids exited the landing zone. The sight made his stomach turn, and he had to swallow a few times to keep his bile down. With a few flicks of his eyes, he sent Rhodes’ report up to command and deleted the images from his display.
“Thank you for your report, Under Colonel Rhodes.” he responded dryly, before setting his communicator to transmit to all of his troops. “New orders, Air Soldiers!” he barked, “I want everyone to keep clear of the alien ship. Mandatory five-foot clearance is to be maintain by all personnel! Enforce by all means necessary! Squadron leaders, respond with acknowledgements.”
Almost at once his squadron leaders responded with green indicators. He brought up a bird’s eye view of the area and saw that his soldiers were backing away from the ship, maintaining a wide berth. Better safe than sorry, he supposed. He was pleased to see his troops obeying his orders so quickly. Before he could return his attention to the ship, another communiqué indicator popped up on his display. This was from one of the aircraft pilots on his side of the ship.
“Colonel Blackshade, we’ve got civilians breaching our perimeter. They’re claiming they have a right to see the aliens.” the pilot informed him, “They’re bloggers, Sir, the worst kind of trash.” he added with spitefulness.
Blackshade sent an acknowledgement to the pilot before closing the channel and then opened a new display that showed the disturbance. Twelve of his Air Soldiers appeared to be surrounded by almost double their number of civilians. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but judging by their aggressive postures and accusatory finger pointing, they were not keeping an open mind. Zooming out, he saw dozens of eager civilians running to join the initial group. It appeared that this squadron had failed to properly set up their port-a-cades. This was made very evident, as the civilians running to join the group easily passed through them. Their presence inside that perimeter presented a huge security risk, both for themselves, and society.
“CRATER! Get me there NOW!” he called out urgently, as he sent the coordinates to his pilot. Before he had finished transmitting, he felt the aircraft lurch, moving to intercept. It took only a few minutes to get there, but by the time Crater had landed Blackshade saw that the mob had grown to over one hundred people. They were currently working themselves into a frenzy and were chanting something about how they had a right to be there. Blackshade felt his anger rising.
“Crater, go hot. Non-lethals. If the civilians attack, open fire. At all costs keep them away from the alien ship. You get me?” Blackshade ordered, as he and his team prepared to disembark.
“Copy that, Sir.” Crater answered, sounding apathetic about his new orders, “None of those people will get past me.”
This response brought Blackshade’s opinion of the man up a notch. Not everyone was willing to fire on fellow citizens, even if the shots being fired were non-lethal. He made a mental note to have Crater transferred to his unit after all of this was over. Looking at his team, he pointed at the three civilians inside the hover-chopper with him.
“You three stay here. If I don’t make it back, it will be up to you to communicate with the aliens. You must reach an agreement with them, no matter what! This can’t lead to war!” he told them.
The two men and one woman looked back at him with mixed emotions. None of them acknowledged what he said. He sighed in frustration, these were the people he had been sent to help communicate with the aliens. The woman, Affinity Goldberg, a middle aged white woman who appeared to be an orthodox Jew. Blackshade assumed this due to the fact that the woman hadn’t stopped clutching at her Star of David necklace since boarding the hover-chopper. Ms. Goldberg had been recruited by the government at the last minute because she was an expert linguist, fluent in over forty languages. Her resume touted that she could read over one hundred different languages, and was one of the country’s leading experts in oral communication. Blackshade thought that was all well and good, but he knew the real reason she was sitting on his aircraft was because they had found her inside a government safe space in Washington and transported her to Barksdale for this mission. She had the credentials to help communicate with the aliens, but judging by the way she shook, she had not volunteered for the job. Zahera had spent some time with the woman trying to explain to her how important this all was, and that she would be instrumental in making first contact with an alien species. As much as Blackshade wished her words would have encouraged Ms. Goldberg, he had the feeling Zahera’s council had the opposite effect. The poor woman hadn’t stopped shaking since boarding the aircraft.
Kevwin Gene was the second civilian that had been conscripted into service to help him communicate with the aliens. Kevwin was probably the least qualified person on the team. He was a community college statistics and advanced mathematics instructor. He, like Ms. Goldberg, had been found, cowering inside of a government shelter, and was brought to Barksdale after his credentials were confirmed. During his briefing, he had attempted to flee from the base, which resulted in him being tackled by one of the Air Soldiers guarding the meeting. The results of which were a swollen black eye and split upper lip. Mr. Gene was much more compliant now, but had taken on a pouty demeanor that gave Blackshade little confidence in his ability to be of any use.
The final civilian on his team was a man named Yoshi Untari. Yoshi was a lithe, pale skinned Asian-Candaerican that did contract work for the government. According to his file, he was an expert signal and pattern decoder who specialized in decrypting Chinese messages. According to the report, Yoshi had volunteered to help communicate with the aliens and seemed genuinely excited to be on the team. Blackshade hadn’t talked to any of them directly, but out of the three civilians on this make-shift team, Yoshi Untari was the only one he had any optimism towards.
Blackshade ordered seven of the soldiers to disembark the aircraft with him, leaving one man, Sergeant Philo Choi, to guard the civilians. Blackshade did take notice of the fact that Sergeant Choi seemed relieved to be left on the aircraft. He made a mental note to watch the man; if this came down to a firefight, he wasn’t sure if he could rely on him to do his duty.
As he and his Air Soldiers disembarked, he took stock of the situation. Well over a hundred civilians had now broken past the barricades and were swarming around his Air Soldiers. He couldn’t tell if they were being attacked, but if they weren’t it was only a matter of time. The mob’s attitude was growing in ferocity as it grew in size. If he didn’t neutralize it now, the mob would overwhelm them and in their fury, possibly attack the alien ship. He could not let that happen.
“Coma-tabs. Use them all.” he growled into his communicator. Green acknowledgement lights came from the Air Soldiers flanking him.
Coma-tabs were non-lethal technology, only recently put into use by the military. The tabs were eight inches long, an inch wide, and a quarter-inch thick. When armed they could be placed or thrown onto a person instantly rendering them unconscious. Coma-tabs weren’t just simple off switches for people however, they were much safer than that. When the tab made contact with a person, it instantly ran a diagnostic on them to determine any health conditions or foreign substances that may be in their system. If any health conditions were found, it would adjust the coma-inducing chemicals it introduced to their body to compensate. If a foreign substan
ce, such as drugs, alcohol, or performance enhancers were discovered, the tab would analyze what they were, neutralize the substance if required, and then render the person unconscious. This made the tabs completely safe, and ensured no accidental deaths or health issues could occur from their use. The entire process took place within two seconds of the Coma-tab making contact with a person. An individual brought down by a coma-tab stayed that way until it was removed by a qualified medical technician, or for twenty-four hours, at which time the tab automatically detached and deactivated itself.
Blackshade and his unit closed, unnoticed, to within a few feet of the mob and began tossing their Coma-Tabs into them. As the tabs made contact, people dropped to the ground completely unconscious and no longer a threat. The mob took no notice at first, and those that did were quickly hit by a coma-tab themselves. Around twenty people were lying on the ground when the mob finally took notice. Almost as one, the group turned on Blackshade and his small contingent, changing their focus from the larger group of Air Soldiers they had surrounded, to him and his smaller group of people. He had expected to see the civilians panic and flee, but instead he saw unadulterated fury in their collective faces. He realized with growing horror that they were about to attack him.
There were about fifteen feet between his squad and the mob. Which only gave him one option to defuse the situation before it got really ugly. Drawing his weapon, he fired four shots into the ground between the two groups. As each round hit, a small explosion threw dirt and rocks towards the civilians. They ducked and covered their heads as the debris showered over them. As they recovered, he switched his communicator to broadcast and maximized the volume.
“DISPERSE NOW! YOU ARE IN VIOLATION OF MARTIAL LAW! RETURN TO YOUR HOMES AND SHELTERS NOW, OR YOU WILL BE MET WITH LETHAL FORCE! COMPLY NOW OR DIE!” he bellowed at the civilians.
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