The Prime Minister nodded, ‘Fighter strength?’
The RAF officer leant forward, tapping into his keypad before looking up again, ‘The RAF have lost approximately seventy percent of its fighter strength, France about sixty five percent and similar losses across our allies. There are limited fighters left in Europe to send to assist us, the Americans based in Europe have been almost wiped out. Middle Eastern and Russian jets are now in the skies over England defending our airspace.’ He glanced up again, ‘We have opened Cyprus up to any nationality that wishes to fly to our assistance and the response has been promising…it’s just whether they get here in time.’
Admiral Karladen sat back in his chair, indicating to the officer, ‘How many more fighters can come to defend you?’
The RAF officer glanced at the Prime Minister, seeing him nod his consent to continue, the man looking back down at his laptop. ‘Offers of assistance have come in from across the globe. The first wave of American Stealth fighters were shot down over the Atlantic and Iceland by the enemy…the US Air force has advised they are unable to get here safely to assist. Over land we have a better chance of gaining additional support. Fighters are now flying low across Russian airspace from China and other nations, this offers them some safety. They are expected to refuel in Germany or Cyprus.’
The RAF officer leant forward, his eyes widening in surprise as he read the latest messages appearing on his screen. He glanced up at the Prime Minister, his mouth open, ‘Reports are just coming in that the enemy have started engaging incoming planes over the North Sea and English Channel before they even get to UK airspace…they are trying to cut us off!’
The government figures rose to their feet in horror and exasperation, the Prime Minister’s eyes widening as his voice rose, ‘Find a way for our missiles to target their aircraft!’ The talking escalated in the room as all the government ministers started to all speak at once, their collective fear beginning to rise.
The Admiral noticed his intelligence officer indicate to him, the man pointing to the door. He slowly rose and slipped behind the ministers at the table, none noticing him approach his officer, the man whispering in his ear, ‘Sir, the secure line with Sky Commander Petaski is now available.’
Admiral Karladen nodded, slipping through the door as a suited bodyguard opened it for him. He smiled weakly to the man, ‘Please explain to your ministers that we will return to our room for a brief consultation before resuming the meeting.’ The bodyguard nodded grimly, his gaze continuing on the people in the room as the voices rose further.
Admiral Karladen slowly sat down the corner of the small side office, his intelligence officer by the door, checking the long underground passageway outside.
The senior intelligence officer slowly and quietly closed the door, indicating to his commander that he was now able to speak.
Admiral Karladen sighed, holding his hand over the mouthpiece and whispering into the tiny microphone, ‘Sky Commander Petaski?’
His earpiece buzzed as his subordinate on the ship responded, ‘Yes Sir. The communication link is secure, we are scrambling this conversation and transmitting at a frequency the humans will not be able to decipher quickly.’
The Admiral nodded, smiling grimly, ‘Good. The intelligence officer here has checked the room and removed their bugging devices…what is the situation on the ship?’
Sky Commander Petaski sat in the Admiral’s small quarters on the ship, his computerised desk screen flickering before him, ‘There is considerable damage to the earth’s fighter defence. It appears they are struggling to contain the Morgons and they are only facing one enemy ship.’
The Admiral nodded grimly, ‘Yes, it is the same information here…we need more time. Is the ship able to fly…draw the Morgon vessel away from earth?’
Petaski shook his head, ‘No Sir. We can fly…but would not outrun them for long, we are too badly damaged. They would destroy us and return to earth I think.’
The senior commander gritted his teeth in frustration, ‘I thought so. What about the transporter, are our allies going through it in force?’
Sky Commander Petaski hesitated, ‘The link is cut Sir. I presume the Morgons are attacking Alexion One, they needed all the power for their defences. We have no comms with our planets or forces there, the Morgons are jamming continuously.’
The Admiral sat back, glancing at his intelligence officer, ‘Then there is only one thing to do Petaski. It is dangerous…but it may work. Proceed please.’
Sky Commander Petaski rose slowly from his seat, his eyes widening, ‘I understand Sir. I will take every necessary precaution I can. I hope to see you again one day.’
Admiral Karladen sighed again, ‘So do I Petaski. Make it happen…but do it carefully. Don’t let the humans find out. Karladen out.’
The link was cut, Sky Commander Petaski’s earpiece buzzing slightly in his right ear lobe as the countermeasures were removed. He scratched his head and stepped towards the entrance to the quarters, the metallic door sliding sideways as he approached. He nodded to the intelligence officer stood outside in the corridor, ‘The Admiral has made his decision. Take two men…do you understand?’
The officer nodded, ‘Yes Sir!’ His fist rising to his chest hard, ‘Covert Intelligence will make it happen Sir!’ He turned and marched down the corridor, Sky Commander Petaski turning to walk in the opposite direction, wearily climbing the stairs before him and heading towards the command deck.
David Bland spun round as the Sky Commander approached, ‘What the hell is going on? We have forces ready to depart and some of my staff are…well, somewhere else…on a space station heaven knows where! They are my responsibility and I want them back, or at least able to talk to them!’ Daryl Barton stepped forward, seeing the Trevakian’s hand rise to stop him as he stepped past.
Petaski shook his head, avoiding eye contact with the airport manager, ‘Things are getting worse I think. We have no communication with our forces and your fighters are not a match for the Morgon attack. Your people are on the Alexion One…’ He saw David Bland’s eyes roll in frustration, raising his voice slightly in response, ‘…They are on a space station, they are perfectly safe…there have been no Morgon Warships shown in that quadrant to attack such a structure!’
David stared at him incredulously, his eyes narrowing, ‘…And that’s your idea of safe? They are millions of miles from us, from their families…what am I to tell them?’
Daryl Barton stepped forward again, his voice stern as he addressed his manager, ‘David, I think you need to let them work on it…’ David stepped back, staring at the Sky Captain, shaking his head in exasperation, his voice lowering as he nodded to his superior, ‘So you have brought death and destruction to us…what now? What can we do?’
The Sky Commander stared at the radar screen, the numerous dots moving across it as the ferocious air battle continued into the evening of the second day, his jaw stiffening, ‘We fight…that’s all we have left.’
The airport manager clenched his gloved fists, the senior policeman next to him placing a firm hand on his shoulder, ‘So what will happen then? Are you losing on this planet that we went to? What is the matter with your forces…why can’t they win?’
Petaski spun round, his face glowing with anger, ‘I will not take this kind of challenge from you! We have lost hundreds of thousands of troops facing this enemy…you have lost none!’ He stared into the eyes of the airport manager defiantly, ‘Just because your feeble existence is challenged, don’t cry and whimper at me…without us, the Morgons would crush you and your planet to dust in days!’
David stared back, his teeth gritted, voice low and controlled, ‘Then show us how to fight them. Get us to them and we will show you what we can do…a war is not lost until one side gives up…we have plenty of fight in us yet, our time has come now…we will show you what your new allies are made of.’ He wiped the spittle from his mouth, his expression becoming more relaxed as Daryl Barton grasped
his shoulder, ‘How long before we can get the transporter open? I want my four staff back!’
The Sky Commander nodded slowly, staring into his eyes for a second, then turned to the nearest crew member, ‘Scan for any transporters in the Zaxon B location, report immediately to me once the scan is complete.’
The crew member nodded, his fist slapping against his chest. He turned and indicated to two console operators, ‘You heard the commander, commence scanning.’
The Sky Commander turned back to David Bland, his expression solemn, ‘We will give you your war…perhaps we will both stand together at the gates of your hell before it is won or lost, but we will fight until both our races are victorious or completely destroyed!’
David Bland nodded solemnly, his eyes narrowing in strained despair as he saw Daryl Barton glaring at him, the senior manager indicating for him to step to one side for a chat.
Admiral Karladen adjusted his dark blue uniform and cap, nodding to his chief intelligence officer as the man obediently opened the door. Stepping through, a suited bodyguard of the Prime Minister’s staff indicated with his left hand, ‘This way Sir, the Prime Minister is awaiting you.’
The Admiral nodded, ‘Thank you.’ Walking down the narrow corridor, he heard the chatter from the rooms on either side, the variety of diplomats speaking to their governments on land telephones, the mobile networks now jammed.
The door at the end of the corridor swung open and he stepped forward, the Prime Minister nodding as he walked into the long wide room. Numerous cabinet ministers and the leader of the opposition parties turned to look at him, their eyes widening as they saw the Admiral from another galaxy for the first time. The Prime Minister leant forward, ‘Apologies about earlier, my new cabinet members will be a little rowdy at times!’ The Admiral smiled warmly in response, nodding his understanding.
The Prime Minister smiled at their reaction, ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present Admiral Karladen. The first envoy from a foreign world to join us for a working supper.’ He forced a wider smile, ‘Let us hope what we decide this evening with the cooperation of our allies across the world will create a lasting foundation of friendship. A friendship that will overcome the immense challenge that now threatens our very survival.’
The people present nodded grimly, several stepping forward cautiously to introduce themselves to the Admiral.
A suited bodyguard stepped forward, his hand dropping from his ear, ‘Prime Minister, Sir. The American, Russian and Chinese leaders will be ready for another video conference in one hour.’
The Prime Minister nodded, ‘Then time is shorter than anticipated. Keep me informed of events and prepare the lists of available forces and a situation report for the call.’
The man nodded, stepping back as the Prime Minister raised his voice, ‘Right, time is short…let’s get to work. Admiral…it would be an honour if you would sit next to me please.’
The double doors behind him opened revealing a long wide dinner table in the next room. Its white table cloth adorned with candelabra and numerous place settings.
In Cyprus, the traffic controllers stared at each other in confusion, one leaning to the other in response to the broken English he had heard in his headphones, ‘Am I hearing the radio correctly?’
His colleague nodded, his eyes widened, ‘North Korean and Chinese fighter jets are approaching, requesting refuelling before onward journey.’ He glanced across at his supervisor expectantly, ‘Sir, the only available refuelling spaces are opposite the South Koreans and Japanese on one of the jetty ways…’
The supervisor turned, his expression ironic, voice low, ‘We are all allies now...bring them in.’
The controller nodded, his face aghast as he raised his hand, ‘Korean and Chinese translators to the ‘comms’ channel please!’
Chapter Seventeen: Zaxon B
Riaz glanced cautiously to either side as they reached where the two tracks met, indicating to the others to approach. The wider road was deserted in either direction, the snowflakes falling around them. He nodded to Tregan as he approached, hearing the muffled firing to the left, ‘How far is it now?’
Tregan stepped forward onto the track running north to south, turning left, ‘Not far, perhaps another hour.’ He started walking forward, the snowflakes beginning to become thicker as the small group followed him. Raising his assault rifle over his shoulder, the Trevakian Marine trudged on through the worsening conditions, his mind drifting back to some of the times he and Mrin had spent together.
Shino walked with Debra, Riaz dropping back to cautiously cover the rear. The small Philippine woman turned to Debra, ‘Do you think we can have something to eat when we get to the forward unit, I am starving now.’
Debra smiled, ‘You are not the only one. Let’s get to safety first, then have a bite. Riaz has some supplies, so we are not short.’
Shrieking to the left made them jump, Tregan slipping his rifle from his shoulder once more. He spun round, his face determined, indicating with his arm to the right, ‘Get to the side, I thing the Morgons are approaching.’ He dropped to a crouch, raising his weapon as the shriek could be heard again. Then a slight rumble in the distance, round the next bend, made him rise again, a smile forming on his face as he realised the Morgon reconnaissance soldier was warning his men of the approaching steel monster.
The large tank swept round the corner, dust and snow blowing to either side as the dark grey vehicle approached, slowly losing speed as the driver saw the figure on the track before them. As the large machine jolted to a halt, Riaz stepped from the rocks at the side of the track, his eyes wide with fascination. Stopping next to Tregan, he smiled as the upper turret of the large vehicle slowly rose, the commander’s head slipping into the light.
Riaz glanced across at Tregan, ‘What the hell is that?’
Tregan smiled, ‘It’s one of our hover tanks.’ He pointed at the base of the vehicle, ‘You see, there are no wheels or tracks?’
Riaz nodded, noticing the black skirting at the base of the vehicle was simply to cover the open expanse beneath, his eyes widening further, ‘How do you do that? I mean…its floating?’
Tregan waved to the tank commander, ‘Quite simply really, the planet has a gravitational pull. We reverse the magnetic force in the tank so the weight of the vehicle responds to the gravity, but it is prevented from grounding by the opposing magnetism. Then all you have to do is power it…the tank is both solar and fuel cell driven, so does not damage the planet in any way. As there is no contact with the ground, it can also be quite fast.’
Riaz stood transfixed, staring at the large vehicle before him. The turret held two large parallel guns of approximately 100mm calibre and was capable of housing two operators, one as a main gunner and the other as spotter or machine gunner. Beneath them, two further crew members took it in turn to drive the tank or man a second machine gun. With no tracks, the inside of the tank was not limited in width, thus carrying nearly two hundred and fifty shells in the tightly packed compartments.
Debra and Shino cautiously stepped back onto the track, walking alongside the wide vehicle as they stared at it, their mouths open. The large vehicle’s engines were humming on idle as it sat on the track, a slight vibration seeming to emanate across the hull. The dark grey exterior of the tank was broken with a brick and sand coloured camouflage paint, the military unit marking, a leopards snarling head emblazoned in bright red across the side of the turret.
The commander nodded at them politely, a grin forming on his face, ‘Ladies…’
Shino smiled back sheepishly, the young Trevakian smiling down at her.
Tregan grimaced, witnessing the exchange. Jumping onto the front of the tank, he dropped to a crouch on the right side of the main guns seeing three armoured cars beyond the fighting vehicle. He glanced across at the commander, ‘Where are you off to?’
The smile slowly fell from the young tankers face, his green eyes staring at the older marine, ‘We are going to pick u
p more ammunition and supplies from the village…do you want to come along?’
Tregan shook his head, ‘No…we need to get to the armoured brigade and warn them…the Morgon’s are in the valley and it seems they are beginning to strengthen. Do you know how they could have got through?’
The tanker bit his lip, lowering his body in the turret, wary of being too exposed. He glanced around nervously, ‘I had no idea…how did they get through? The ravine is mined and we are blasting any that shows their ugly armoured covered faces.’ His expression seemed to turn to a sneer, ‘We have killed probably over fifty of their troops so far with only a handful wounded on our side…’ He thought for a second, ‘…We thought it was too easy…they have been distracting us whilst more of their troops slip behind our positions!’ He slammed his fist down onto the top of the tank in frustration, running his hand down across his face in shock.
Tregan looked back over the vehicles behind the tank, seeing Shino and Debra chatting to one of the armoured carrier drivers, ‘Can you bring back enough ammunition in two carriers?’
The tank commander shrugged, ‘Not as much, but it will do. The lead carrier is carrying the wounded and the other two are empty.’
The Last Marine in the Galaxy (Galaxies Collide Book 1) Page 16