“Kansas.”
John Robert spun around quickly. “Kansas?” He almost glared at the tech before turning back to the television screen which was in a loop of what appeared to be mobile phone footage of three alien spacecraft descending towards the ground, then disappearing over the horizon. He turned back to the tech. “So location three is Kansas.” He nodded. “Fine. Site four?”
“Sir, site four appears to be the big one. Multiple ships seem to have landed on the ground in Myanmar. In what looks like the middle of nowhere.”
John ambled over to the monitor and looked at the gritty image that was being displayed. He wasn’t sure what the Coalition was onto, but he knew that if this was their primary target, there was going to be a reason for it.
“Sir!” A tech from an adjacent raised her voice in a high-pitched manner. “Our systems are detecting a massive power surge from all four sights.” She reported.
6
Rancor 7/London
16 January
Earlier
Even with all the tech in the known universe, things still go wrong, and during an invasion, they tend to go wrong more often than commanders would hope for. Enemy contact always brings out the variables that are beyond the control of the meticulous planners that had slaved away setting up the perfect strategy and plan to achieve victory for the Coalition, and help those on Qera move one step closer to reclaiming the Empire.
The Sulcano was older than most of the ships that had made the jump into the Sol System. She had been manufactured in the days leading up to the War of Succession and had been kept in service out of necessity. When the Ship Master had received his orders for the attack on Terra, he was to make up part of the destroyer screen for the Lone Hunter, and as such, jump in relatively close to Terra.
When the ships had assembled off Rancor 7 and received their final jump coordinates the Ship Master had held his usual pre-jump briefing with his primary bridge staff in the ship’s command centre just behind the bridge, the mood was lively. They knew an attack force of this size, over 270 ships, hadn’t been assembled in many years.
Before the jump, the Ship Master, an old hand with decades of experience, checked that all weapons were warmed up and ready. All Sentinels and droids were ready for combat, and most importantly, the jump coordinates were correct.
The command chair had provided a comfortable resting place for the commander's aged body, and once the countdown for the jump commenced, it was straight to battle-stations as the count made its way down to zero, and then, nothing happened.
“Status?” The Ship Master maintained his cool. No point in shouting.
“Sir, jump systems are rebooting.” Came the report from the nav station.
“Very well.” The Ship Master looked to the rear of his position. “Dec-Tec, did everyone else jump?”
“Negative, sir. I’m detecting a massive explosion on one of the Heavy Carriers.”
The Ship Master got up from his chair and quickly moved to the rear of the bridge. “How bad?”
“Not terminal, but they are venting and making off for the Rancor 7 station.”
“Very well.” The veteran commander started to move back to his chair. “Jump drives?”
“Coming online.” The nav station reported. “Plugging jump coordinates into the system.”
The Ship Master reached his command chair. “Star Pilot, give me a slow rolling jump please.”
“On it.” Came the reply from the front of the bridge.
“Jump drives ready, Sir. We are ready to execute a rolling jump to the Sol System.” Reported the nav station.
The commander toggled the ship-wide communications system. “Take two.” He killed the channel. “Jump us at your leisure, Navigator.”
“Five, four, on your marks, get set, go!”
And in the blink of an eye, they were gone.
The main view screen suddenly switched from an image of the stars visible from Rancor 7 to darkness and a large glow below the ship. There were no proximity alarms, and they weren’t taking fire.
The Ship Master smiled. It seemed that they had arrived. “Status?” He looked at the nav station.
“We are several thousand kilometres off target on the jump. We are, standby,” There was a pause. “Over a large city, Lone Hunter is in orbit, I am feeding coordinates for our support position to the Star Pilot.”
The Ship Master nodded. A little off target, but nothing to worry about.
“Climbing to orbit.” The Star Pilot reported.
“Very well. Dec-Tec, enemy contacts?”
“Ever decreasing number of Coalition contacts in the system.” The Dec-Tec paused. “They must be jumping out.”
The Ship Master nodded. Just as Varus had promised.
“Sir!” A shout came the ships security station. “We’ve got a malfunctioning assault drop pod.”
Something was going to go wrong. “And?”
“It’s dropped, Sir.” The report came.
The Ship Master shook his head. “Contents?” He knew that the ships four assault drop pods were equipped with either a Light Sentinel or a Gun-PTF, neither of which were expendable.
“Looks like a Light just dropped, Sir.”
“Very well, maintain heading and speed.” Nothing to be done now. Another system malfunction on an ageing ship. Not necessarily a surprise, either.
The sun had set hours ago. Such was the case on a January’s evening in the north Atlantic. Winter had started rather mildly in England, but Christmas had brought the first light dusting of snow to London, and though temperatures had continued to drop, the snow hadn’t returned.
Sergeant Jack MacCloud was halfway through his six-hour shift, and a caffeine recharge was in order. “Danny, the usual.” He said from the passenger seat of the Metropolitan Police BMW X5. MacCloud and his two teammates had been patrolling their usual beat of Brixton, Balham and Clapham as usual and things had been quiet for the past week. Not a single call-out. All the drama was happening east of them, and Jack was getting a little itchy for a more challenging assignment. Jack was shocked that there wasn’t more pandemonium in London since the arrival of the aliens. Perhaps it was just that ‘Keep calm and carry on’ mentality that the British were famous for. Either way, the sleepy route that we had been assigned had very few bright spots where he actually enjoyed taking a break. He was from the north and had moved down to London after his time at Hereford and moved in with his ailing grandmother in Surrey, so he was still a country lad, but he did enjoy when his duties brought him into central London where there was a real hustle and bustle.
When the X5 finally stopped outside Madeleine on the Pavement just around from the Clapham Common underground station it was ten minutes to close, but Jack knew that he could still be guaranteed a good cup of coffee.
Opening the door let in a cold blast of air into the toasty interior, and Jack jumped out and quickly slammed the door behind himself before adjusting his drop-leg holster and walking the five metres to the shop front. A light shove on the door, and he was inside the permanently poorly lit interior that he knew well, he’d been making this pit stop for the last few months.
“Evening love.” He smiled towards the girl behind the counter on his left, he hadn’t seen her before. “One latte, one double espresso and one Americano to go please.” Jack didn’t stop, he continued past the main dining area where chairs were already stacked on top of tables to the rear stairs and went down into the basement to use the loo. When he returned to the counter, two coffees were already prepared, with a third on the way.
“Jennifer not working today?” He asked after the girl that managed the shop for her mother.
The young barista looked over from the coffee machine. “She left about an hour ago.” She had a Spanish accent.
Jack nodded and looked at the two cups that were in front of him, both had already been labelled. Nothing worse than getting coffees mixed up. Digging into his trouser pocket, he pulled out a ten-pound note
and dropped it on the counter, followed by a fiver. Jack didn’t like carrying change in his pockets, just in case something kicked off, and Madeleine’s only took cash, so a big tip it was to be.
The third coffee finished, put into a cup with a lid attached was slid across to Jack’s side of the counter. The young girl took the cash. “Ten-fifty.” She opened the till and stuffed the money in and started to pull out some coins.
“Keep the change.”
“Thank you, officer.”
Jack stacked all three coffees on top of each other, a bit of a pain but Jack never tied up his gun hand, and with careful balance and precision, he backed away from the counter, and headed to the door and back out into the dark winter’s night.
Scanning the Pavement to his left and right, Jack noted all the pedestrians that were moving towards and away from him, a quick assessment for any threats, and not detecting any, Jack made his way back to the still running X5 and opened the door and handed the carefully balanced cups to Danny.
“Cheers, mate.” Jack slid into the passenger seat.
“Latte.” Danny turned around and handed Molly her coffee, then gave Jack his Americano.
“Anything over the comms?” Jack asked. He had kept his team radio piece in his ear while out of the vehicle, but the radios that connected the team to their command was usually kept in the centre consul.
“Negative.” Molly replied in her distinct east London accent.
Jack nodded and took the lid off his coffee and blew on it lightly before taking a small sip. Another slow day. January was one of those months where a lot of people were out of town, and a lot of criminals didn’t feel like going out to commit mischief in the cold.
Watching the people pass by on the street reminded Jack that although his job had slipped into a mildly monotonous routine over the past few months, he needed to remain ever vigilant. Parts of the world had been turned upside down over the last six months by the arrival of the visitors. Some parts had gone mad, calling for a religious war against the unholy invaders. Cults had sprung up overnight. Some worshipping the aliens, others not so much. The only real change that had affected Jack and the rest of SO19 was the reduction in reports of terrorist activity in London. It seems all the assholes had packed up shop and left the country.
Taking another sip on his coffee, he glanced at the vehicles onboard computer and read some of the latest comms chatter from MET Police HQ. All seemed as it should for a slow day in January until the twitter stream that the MET used went haywire, and before Jack could read the deluge of tweets, a massive boom rocked the X5 and resulted in two of three cups of coffee being spilt. Jack was the exception, having drunk most of his Americano, but once the sound was detected, he whipped his head to his right and scanned for signs of trouble.
“Contact 3 o’clock. One hundred metres!” Jack’s left hand immediately opened the car door, and he quickly tossed his coffee cup out of the vehicle. “Danny, let’s move.”
The X5 was rolling three seconds later. The large BMW pulled away from the pavement and was moving quickly up towards Clapham Common South Side with the lights on top of the vehicle flashing.
“Control, this is Juliet Kilo Seven, we have unknown activity on The Common, request additional units.” Jack looked at the plumb of smoke and dust that had been shot into the air and was visible thanks to a row of nearby street lamps.
The X5 made the run-down Clapham Common South Side in a flash and then slowed as soon as they reached Rookery Road. “Danny, pull over before the lake.” Jack ordered.
Jack could see that the point of impact was right on top of a large shed that was on the other side of the pond from where the X5 stopped.
“Boss?” Molly asked from the back seat.
“Dismount and let’s go check it out.” Jack said, opening the door and stepping back into the night’s cold air.
Jack moved around to the driver's side of the car to join his teammates. “Danny, take point. Molly, hug the lake. I’ll take up trail position.” He ordered. He wasn’t accustomed to taking a back seat on an approach, but as ranking officer on the scene, he needed to control his element and coordinate the arrival of backup units.
Clapham Common was the largest open green space in his usual patrol route and well lit up at night, and during the summer time the area might have been still buzzing, but in winter it was quiet when the sun went down, and following the large crashing noise, anyone that had been loitering nearby had scattered from the area. Being in the easternmost section of the Common they were surrounded by a series of busy roads with the road that had brought them here running behind them, which was still crowded with late rush-hour traffic, and a road just off to the teams right, which still had the occasional car rolling down it, perhaps oblivious to the significant impact that had just occurred.
To the teams left was a large pond which Jack called the sailing pond since people often put model boats on it, and directly to their front, ten metres from the pond was the shed that appeared to be the point of impact. Its doors had been blown out towards the pond, and a steady stream of smoke was coming out of a hole in the roof.
Jack reached down to his tac-vest and pulled out his flashlight and switched it on and scanned the ground at his feet. There was no debris visible, nor any that he could see leading up to the structure, ruling out an internal explosion.
“Danny, see anything?” Jack called out. It had taken him a while to get used to the differences of operating in a foreign country and being a policeman. One of those was that he wasn’t trying to sneak up on an enemy position and slit someone’s throat.
“Nothing.” Danny replied. “Armed police!” Danny shouted towards the structure.
Jack looked at Molly who had reached a trail that ran in front of the structure while Danny had stopped halfway in-between the pond and the building. His right-hand resting on his Glock, Jack moved up to a position that was in the middle of his two subordinates and sized up the situation, which wasn’t giving him much in the way of an indication as to what was happening inside the small building.
“Molly.” He looked to his right, then pointed with his torch to the corner of the building nearest to his female operator. “Draw your weapon and approach.” He shifted his gaze. “Danny, cover the door.”
His two team-mates quickly pulled out their service weapons and chambered a round of 9mm ammunition. Danny had a clear line of sight on the blown-out doors as Jack watched Molly creep up to the side of the building.
Jack still couldn’t hear or see any activity inside the building and issued a second warning. “Armed police!”
“Set!” Molly shouted from her position.
“Danny, move up!” Jack ordered and shifted his position closer to the structure while his driver moved forward rapidly to the side of the building just to the left of the open doors.
“Set!” Danny reported.
“Molly.” Jack pointed at a spot for her to move to with a clear line of sight on the doorway.
“Set.”
“What do you see?” Jack asked, moving up slowly, his pistol still holstered.
“Nothing.” She reported, the torch on the underside of her gun swung back and forth illuminating what was in her field of vision inside the large shed.
Jack stopped when he was five metres from the shed and shone his light into the structure but couldn’t see anything for himself. He was starting to wonder if they were on a wild goose chase. “Armed police!” He shouted a third time.
A few seconds passed without a response. “Breach!” He drew his Glock smoothly and move up to the shed just in time to be right on Molly’s shoulder as she followed Danny into the smoke-filled structure.
“Contact front!” Danny yelled and halted his movement inside the shed which was filled with a combination of wooden model sailing ships and a mix of outdoor furniture and folding tables, much of which had been knocked onto the floor.
Molly quickly moved up in the cramped space to Danny’s rear and
dropped to one knee and took up a firing position behind his right leg. Jack was quick to follow, taking up a position to Danny’s left behind a stack of knocked over sailing boats.
With the three beams of light shining in the same direction, Jack was finally able to see what all the commotion was about, a grey metallic pod that looked like an elongated egg, with a pair of red lights flashing on the top and bottom of the object was sitting in the middle of the room.
“Holster.” Jack ordered and quickly jumped onto his comms. “Control, we have a Zeus incident. I repeat, Zeus.” Jack killed the comms channel. “Danny, what do you make of it?”
“A big egg.” He said dryly. “Clean lines, a single seam running down the right side, some marking on the front.”
Slipping his pistol back into his drop leg holster Jack got back on the radio. “Control, not sure what we’ve got here. No threat at present. Please advise.”
“Jack.”
“Molly?”
“I thought all the alien tech was marked in green.” She said moving closer to the pod.
“That is correct,” Jack replied. “Green is the colour of the Alliance.’
“Well, these markings are red.” She said, turning to look at Jack.
“What?”
Before she could respond, the front of the pod sprung open to the sound of escaping gas, slamming into Molly with enough force to knock her off her feet and toss her into the wall closest to the door. The interior of the pod was backlit in small red lights which allowed Danny who was standing closest to see a humanoid object inside the pod slowly start to move.
“Sentinel!” He yelled and started to reach for his pistol, but not before the machine that was inside the pod lurched out at Danny and drove its right fist through the human’s chest and out the far side.
“Danny!” Jack screamed, drawing his pistol, he brought the weapon to bear on the head of the robot that had come into view and squeezed off two shots in quick succession, but the 9mm rounds had no effect, they just bounced off and fell to the ground.
Edge of the Vortex Page 3