The Last Marine in the Galaxy (Galaxies Collide Book 1)

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The Last Marine in the Galaxy (Galaxies Collide Book 1) Page 6

by Andrew McGregor


  The soldier stood to attention, bringing his fist up to his left chest, ‘Yes Sir!’ The trooper indicating for the two to approach him.

  Debra turned to the terminal manager smiling, ‘Shall we choose one each?’

  David nodded, his eyebrows rising is expectation, ‘Very well…sounds like a plan. Who will you choose?’

  Debra turned to the group seeing the expectant faces, she raised her voice, ‘Sam! Front and centre!’ The five feet ten black man in his mid-twenties stepped forward grinning and glancing round triumphantly at his colleagues.

  David Bland smiled, ‘Good choice…ok, let me see…’ He smiled at the expectant faces before him, enjoying the suspense, ‘Right, let’s be having you…erm…’ He winked at the smaller young mixed race oriental girl at the side of the group, ‘Ok…Shino, you go to the gym…let us see if they have armour that fits you!’

  The girl in her early twenties looked up from her fixed stare at the floor, surprised excitement on her blushing face, ‘R-Really?’ She stepped forward, ‘Thank you Sir!’ Flushing red, her mixed Philippine features and dark brown eyes were the focus of several of the male security staff. At five feet five, her enthusiasm and feisty determination surprised most staff and passengers as she overcame their misperception of her height. Driving considerable distance to the airport each day, she took her role in security very seriously, often overstepping her position if she believed a mistake was about to be made.

  David shook his head, smiling, ‘Better hope they have some kit for you…’ He raised his eyes expectantly at the soldier, who nodded silently in return, a faint smile on his face.

  Dryden indicated to the rest of the group, ‘Come with me please, we will return shortly to see your colleagues fully deployed in their kit.’ He saw the despondent faces amongst the security staff, police officers and soldiers and sighed, ‘Don’t worry you will all get some kit, there is enough in stock.’ He indicated to the chosen group, ‘We need models to demonstrate our equipment to your military when they inspect it and that is what this exercise is for. When these people have worn the armour for a while, they will be able to comment on its weight, ease of movement, etc.’ He indicated to the door, ‘Now, let’s look at our medical facilities, I think you may find them very interesting.’ He smiled reassuringly, ‘Please follow me.’

  The Trevakian’s smile widened to a grin, seeing the group seemed satisfied, then turned and walked through the next doorway as the door slipped across to the side, re-entering the corridor outside as they followed him. Speaking as he walked, ‘We have programmed our medical computers with all your earth diseases and ailments. Your internet is very useful at finding out virtually anything anyone wants to know. I, myself learnt your language from your internet.’

  One of the policemen stepped forward, ‘What language do you normally speak then?’

  The soldier next to him indicated, ‘That would be Trevakian!’ The policeman stepped back blushing, the Trevakian smiling reassuringly, his expression lightening as he realised he had embarrassed the officer, ‘Don’t worry, I would have asked the same question! When we first considered contacting your planet some time ago, most of our soldiers and equipment became multi-lingual to your planets most common language! We had to make a choice between English and Chinese…it was an easy choice after the initial study group…that Chinese language is extremely challenging!’

  Entering the medical quarters ahead, Dryden waited for the group to all file into the wide room. There were about fifty single cubicles, the shining metal and white beds simply furnished with a rubber style mattress. The structure surrounding each bed furnished with a low roof adorned with several small blank shining screens.

  Dryden approached the nearest, laying his hand comfortably on the top of the canopy, a young lady in a white jumpsuit approaching, ‘The doctor here will interrupt me if I say something incorrectly.’ He smiled reassuringly again, ‘We place our injured, uninjured soldier or even civilian in here and the medical equipment will scan for weaknesses or potential areas of improvement. This is then completed with the authority of the subject. Would anyone like to see?’

  A murmur of approval went round the group, a male security officer in his late twenties advanced a step boldly, grinning at the others around him, ‘I have a knee injury…can we see if it spots that?’

  Dryden extended his hand, the doctor stepping forward and assisting the security officer into the booth. Smiling, she advised him he should not move too much, but that he could talk whilst the scan was taking place.

  Standing back she smiled confidently at Dryden to report they were ready, the officer indicating to her by raising his thumb, the Trevakian soldier addressing the group, ‘Our doctor is now ready to proceed.’ He turned to face the security officer lying on the rubber mattress, ‘Are you sure you consent to this test?’

  The security officer nodded, ‘Yes certainly, I want to see if it can fix my knee. I can then start my running again then!’

  Dryden looked expectantly round the group, then at the doctor, ‘Very well, please proceed with the examination.’

  The doctor tapped a variety of the small screens on the machine above the officer, the computer buzzing as the scan commenced. A green light highlighted a couple of areas on the officer’s body as it scanned. Then a beep sounded as the scan completed and green symbols flickered on the digital screens.

  The doctor turned smiling reassuringly, ‘Now if we tap this light it will amend all the ‘faults’ the computer found. This is completed through a variety of means.’ She looked down at the officer, still smiling, ‘There are a couple of things the computer has identified…perhaps we will talk about them later.’ She nodded to him comfortingly.

  The officer grinned excitedly, fond of the attention, ‘No, that’s no problem…did the computers spot my knee? Read out what it says please.’

  The doctor whispered to Dryden and he shrugged, shaking his head, ‘The medical booth can fix that can’t it?’ The doctor nodded solemnly. Dryden’s demeanour changed again, ‘Good, let’s read out the signs then and they can really see how good the machine is.’

  The doctor turned to the security officer, ‘Ligaments damaged in your knee should take about ten minutes to rectify…we have also found some other symptoms that will need to be resolved.’

  The security officer’s face became inquisitive, his voice firm, ‘Please read them out for me, it will help me and my colleagues understand.’ He saw the reluctance on the doctor’s face, dismissing it, ‘Please? I really don’t mind.’

  The doctor sighed reluctantly, heeding his wishes, ‘The medical booth has discovered signs of the Human Immunodeficiency Virus, early stages of Diabetes and some mental scarring. These will all be resolved in around twenty of your minutes.’

  The security officer’s widened eyes stared up at the doctor, his face becoming white with shock, ‘Human Immunodeficiency Virus, what is that?’ He glanced from the booth, smiling uncomfortably at the group of staff gathered around as he thought. Then his face flushed and expression fell as he saw them begin to whisper to each other, ‘I have HIV?’

  The doctor nodded, ‘Yes it appears so. We will resolve that in the next few minutes though. The computer will generate one of the strands of the virus to become more active. This will enable your body’s defences to see the virus as it tries to hide amongst the healthy cells…in short, we will educate your immune system to see tiny impurities in the virus. Not only will we remove it, but you will be immune from the virus from now on.’

  The doctor typed a few commands into the overhead console as the bewildered security officer stared up at her. Glancing down, she continued, ‘The diabetes we can resolve relatively easily by reconfiguring the way your body understands sugar and then we will heal the scarring. Are you ready?’

  The security officer nodded slowly, his face still aghast at the diagnosis he had received.

  The doctor smiled reassuringly, ‘Good, just lie back then and close your eyes,
this should not take too long. Please do not talk and remain still.’

  Dryden turned away, his hand rising to his ear again, ‘Sky Commander Petaski? I understand Sir, I will move the visitors away from the medical rooms, then return to the armoury.’ He faced the group, ‘Right, I will leave you in the capable hands of one of my officers so that you can experience what kind of food we eat.’ Dryden smiled as he saw the groups’ positive response, nodding to one of his countrymen.

  On the command deck, Sky Commander Petaski pushed himself up from the communications console, smiling at Daryl Barton, ‘We are about to power up the transporter…would you like to observe?’

  The Army Major nodded, ‘Yes please…not sure I am going to believe what I see…but let’s have a look!’

  Commander Petaski indicated to the officer at the terminal again, ‘Please power up the transporter area, then project onto the screen.’ He smiled as the man tapped a few more symbols on the surface in front of him, the media screen flickering again. Turning to the face the other three, his demeanour became more serious, ‘Please be prepared gentlemen, we are expecting quite a lot of casualties to come through the portal. Reports on the fighting have been quite severe, so the streamed pictures may not be pleasant.’

  Daryl Barton indicated to the darkened screen, ‘Where exactly are the casualties going to come from and how is the situation?’

  Commander Petaski nodded, his expression grim, ‘Alexion One is our space station deployed above the planet, Zaxon B. The Morgons wish to drive us from the planet and there has been heavy fighting across the surface, several of the outposts have been lost. We have destroyed the transporter on the planet’s surface as a precaution and are now using the one on the space station. The wounded have been taken from the surface in transporters and are awaiting projection to this ship.’ He hesitated, considering whether to continue passing information, then relented, ‘We considered keeping them in our galaxy, transporting them to other planets, but decided we could use these experienced but wounded men to train your troops. It would also be good and relatively safe recovery for them. We will send our own garrison marines back through the transporter to reinforce the losses.’

  The Chief Inspector looked concerned, ‘Are you really losing that badly?’

  Commander Petaski rubbed his hand across his forehead nervously, ‘Yes, I am afraid so. The war was stalemate for a number of years, we even had some hope of victory initially. Recently, however, the Morgons seem to have gained additional troops and stronger weaponry….they have simply come close to overwhelming us, attacking several planets at once. Before we used to fight in only one sector, but now they are very ambitious and our resources are stretched, defending across two whole galaxies.’ His expression became saddened, ‘One thing you should know though….if they take that planet, they have a clear route through to earth!’

  As the light flickered across the screen above them, the men looked up, Commander Petaski turning and following their gaze.

  Chapter Six: Galaxies Collide

  David Bland stood proudly in the combat uniform, admiring himself in the mirrored doors at the end of the armoury. Examining the Trevakian marine combat clothing, he noticed the body armour around his shoulders displayed his name and staff number of the airport authority, the metal padded for comfort and covered in a rubber-like substance. The light reinforced boots hugged his feet, ensuring his grip was maximised at all times, shin protectors rising up to just below his knees beneath the uniformed material. The fabric of the trousers and tunic was thick, insulated and could adapt to differing temperatures and colour requirements dependant on the surroundings and light and he was just aware of the extra padding on the knees and elbows to reduce impact injuries.

  Impressed by his view, he slowly lifted the blackened helmet and placed it gingerly onto his head, feeling the insulation inside adjust to the outside of his skull and tighten, and assurance against impact and rapid movement.

  Dryden reached for the computer console, tapping the details required into the keypad, the name ‘Bland’ and ‘Heathrow Battalion’ gradually forming into view on the rear of the helmet. The Trevakian marine stepped forward smiling, ‘There we are…how does it feel?’

  David Bland nodded, looking into the doors again, his grin broadening in satisfaction, ‘This is the best gear I have ever worn…what is it made of?’ The manager turned to look at the Trevakian, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

  Dryden grinned, ‘A combination of material, woven together with lighter metals for protection. The additional armour is thin mesh, also from several minerals and metals to ensure maximum protection with minimum weight.’

  David nodded in admiration, ‘Tough stuff, this should stop anything.’ He glanced across the room at the three officers and supervisor, all admiring their uniforms and chatting happily.

  Dryden sighed, his face becoming darker, ‘Unfortunately not, the Morgons use deadly ammunition that these uniforms can only offer limited protection against.’ He attempted a forced smile as the manager looked back at him, ‘Their technology seems superior. Using explosive and acid capped bullets, projectiles and explosives that can tear through our armour and kill or maim our soldiers.’

  David looked saddened, ‘That sounds like evil stuff…are there no rules of warfare?’

  Dryden shook his head, ‘Simple destroy or be destroyed….that is the reality of our war. Their nano explosives are devastating. The shrapnel is razor sharp, the chemical reaction and energy of the explosion energising the nano-cells in the shrapnel that attacks anyone that it lands on or hits. It simply burrows into our armour and then the soldier. ’

  David looked aghast, ‘Really? That’s terrible. Is there anything to combat it?’

  Dryden shook his head slowly, glancing over at the others, ‘We are experimenting with an electro-magnetic pulse system that the uniform can generate to overload and destroy the nano-shrapnel, but as yet this is not perfected.’ He forced himself to smile, ‘Anyway, enough of this grim reality!’ He pointed to the helmet, ‘There is a blast shield that deploys from the helmet when you are firing your weapon, this assists with targeting and protects your eyes.’

  David’s eyes widened as the others approached, their expressions excited as they overheard, ‘That sounds interesting, can we see?’

  Dryden smiled warmly, ‘The shields will not normally deploy until you have a personalised weapon and raise it to your helmet or fire.’ He indicated to the doors, ‘The infantry weapons are in the next room…but I think that will already be full of marines readying to depart for Alexion One.’ He glanced across the small group’s faces, seeing the disappointment, considering the situation for a second, ‘Perhaps we can have a look, let me just check the men are ready.’

  Riaz indicated to David Bland’s shoulder, his expression curious, ‘He has his surname where as we have our first names…and why does he have a pip over his name? We don’t.’

  Dryden grinned, moving to the keypad on the wall next to the mirrored doors, ‘Because he is your unit commander. Commanders have surnames and rank markings. You take orders from him!’ He smirked as he glimpsed the displeasure on Riaz’s face before typing into the keypad.

  The mirrored doors swept back revealing a large room on the other side full of marines, the armour clad male and female soldiers stood in four lines facing them, over two hundred personnel. All brandished assault rifles, the half empty racks that the weapons had been retrieved from lining the walls.

  The Trevakian marines were all stood to attention, their commander glancing over his shoulder as he spoke loudly across the room, nodding a greeting to Dryden and the visitors. The captain looked back at his men, continuing his briefing, ‘As I said, there have been considerable casualties and you will be deployed to Alexion One before transported to the surface.’ He raised his hands to his hips, flexing his muscled shoulders beneath his armour, ‘We all know the evil of this enemy, the casualties they have inflicted and the innocents they have slaugh
tered! Remember the reports from the medical facilities on Dravus? They slaughtered our wounded and sick for fun! You kill, or will be killed…they are trying to exterminate us! Do you all understand?’

  The room almost shook as each soldier slammed his fist against his left chest, ‘Yes Sir!’

  The captain nodded in satisfaction, ‘Keep together….protect each other, the regular army and civilians! Ensure the Morgons are driven back! We can retake the positions we have lost and drive them from the planet! We are buying time and showing our new allies…’ He indicated with a jerk of his thumb over his shoulder towards the small group of visitors, ‘…that Trevakian marines are never defeated in battle, understand?’

  Once again the marines slammed their fists against their chest armour, the snapped reply echoing around the room, ‘Yes Sir!’

  The captain nodded, ‘Good!’ he indicated to the larger doors to the left, ‘The transporter is powering up. Delta Company, help the medics bring the wounded to the medical quarters. Alpha, Bravo and Charlie companies move through the transporter with me.’ He spun round to face the small group of visitors, ‘Dryden, get your new ‘Echo’ squad to assist Delta Company!’

  Dryden stepped forward hastily, ‘But Sir…’

  The captain grimaced, ‘That’s an order! They will see for themselves what our enemy is capable of!’ His lips pursed, he looked across the four startled faces behind the marine guide, sternly nodding to them, ‘My apologies, but it seems the casualties are in higher numbers that we anticipated, we will need all the help we can get this hour!’

 

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