Planet Genocide II: Galaxies Collide 5: Onslaught

by Andrew McGregor

  All of the operator stiffened as the President of the United States stepped from the side briefing room below them, the exhausted leader raising a cigarette to his mouth and flicking a zippo lighter. His weary dark underlined eyes glanced across their surprised faces as he grinned, indicating to the smouldering long cigarette in irony, ‘Does this matter now?’ His eyes strained slightly, almost reflectively, ‘I gave up ten years ago...hell…now I have a nicotine buzz…’ The President grinned fondly as he glanced across his loyal and creased suited staff, raising the cigarette and blowing on the lit end, ‘Smoke if you like, but only if your colleagues agree…you must be worried about your families…take your jackets off.’

  Several of the agents smiled, slipping their suit jackets from their shoulders, a couple producing cigarette packets and lighters as the President stepped forward, noting most of the agents’ shrug and nod in approval for their friends to smoke. Leaning in exhaustion on the bannister with one hand before three stairs leading down to the lower shining dark floor, his eyes narrowed in despondency as he looked up at the large screen before the operators, static lines spreading across a still image of outside, parked vehicles and low buildings presenting an innocent mining operators office, ‘You are probably all aware from the messages and reports you have received…we face the greatest threat to our existence of any time and we are losing…and relatively quickly. We have suffered losses far beyond what we could ever have imagined, our beloved country disfigured and contorted beyond any nightmare…our people are suffering and afraid of the future.’ He drew heavily on the cigarette, ‘Our allies are faring little better and Russia…well, they are struggling too…only China seems immune at present.’

  The middle aged leader seemed to stiffen with resolve, drawing on the cigarette deeply, ‘The enemy is attacking continually as you know and now we have news of numerous drop ships descending into our atmosphere…we must presume this is the prelude to a final struggle for our survival…the survival of the American people.’ He grimaced, his frame straightening as his voice raised, ‘But we must focus on what we can still achieve, slow and delay this vicious enemy…deprive them of ultimate victory until they lose hope, buy time to develop a strategy and produce weapons that can drive them back…defeat them if that is even possible.’

  The operators nodded slowly, many glancing down at their screens periodically, grey blue smoke beginning to billow around them, one agent rising nervously, her voice strained, ‘Mr President, sir…’ The female agent hesitated, the leader indicating for her to proceed, ‘Sir…I have been configuring some of the flight paths that this enemy seems to be following in high orbit as they descend. The jamming has distorted these projections, but I believe I have a possible destination for one group.’ The slim, black haired agent inhaled deeply, seeming reluctant to convey the message, ‘Mr President, our limited radar has produced a possible target for twelve of their separated high circling vessels…I presume from calculations they are coming here!’

  The President pushed back from the balcony rail in alarm, his voice distorted in deepening worry, ‘Only to be expected, but sooner than I thought…secure all outer doors…raise full alert status, we fight here!’

  Long Island, Boston

  Moving cautiously along the boundary fence of the abandoned Missile Site, Rodrigues and the young marine strained their eyes further to the north, their pistols jerking from side to side nervously as the cracking of branches continued, both men wondering if the pistols would even be powerful enough to stop or kill one of the immense beasts they had seen.

  The darkness seemed to be conspiring against them, flashing lights above the city and the enflamed Boston waterfront further to the north west the only illumination, the Morgon craft circling over the burning harbour buildings before descending to land on street intersections and squares, further grenadiers and specialist troops disembarking to continue the advance.

  The young marine lowered further, edging along the high perimeter fence and staring into the murk, the path to the north seeming deserted, his ears straining as he still heard muffled movement through the dark trees, Rodrigues glancing round behind him. Distant lights seemed to twinkle to the south, the vison seeming in total contract to the scene to the north, the Latino realising many of the residents on the islands and mainland further south would have already fled or be frantically preparing to leave.

  A hand slapped his shoulder, the young marine raising his pistol, ‘There is someone there…near the edge of the trees at the end of the fence…’ The soldier shook his head, realising Rodrigues could not hear him, his arms extending with the left hand sporting the right as he lowered his head to aim.

  Then a startled hiss through the darkness, ‘Don’t shoot…I am alone with my dogs…I just want to get to the boats in the south!’

  The pistol lowered as the younger man sighed, shaking his head, ‘Come out…we need to get moving. Do you live here? Is there a way into this base?’ His eyes widened as the slender female stepped from the trees, straining against two leashes as the panting dogs pulled on their leads, keen to escape the evil they sensed further north.

  The teenage girl stepped towards the two men, the two Boxer dogs whimpering and tugging further, her eyes narrowing in strain as she pulled at the leashes, ‘The only way in is from the road in the centre of the island and I am not going there! There are four security guards, but they are old and stupid and will have locked themselves underground in one of the bunkers at the first sign of trouble or gunshot.’ She moved deliberately between the bewildered marines, Rodrigues shrugging and indicating to his ears as she continued, ‘I was out walking these two when I heard the first shots…what are they? Is it the aliens? The dogs were…are terrified…’

  The younger soldier rose, following the slim female and her dogs, his voice strained, ‘I don’t think there are many on the island or they would have hunted us down by now…most are in the city. They have a couple of beasts with them, powerful hunting animals…and we only have these useless pistols. Do you have a boat…or know of one?’

  The girl hesitated, turning her head in the darkness, the dogs still panting as her shoulders shook, tears in her eyes, ‘I have a boat…my father’s. He was at work in the city…I don’t know where my mother and younger brother are.’ She drew a sharp breath, ‘I went home but they had gone…then I heard more shooting. We lived south of the main apartments…further along Long Island Road…’

  She turned back, leaning against the tugging leashes as the two marines trudged after her, speaking over her shoulder, ‘I hope my mother did not go to the ‘village’ as we called it…she is a nurse, so I fear she might have…our small car was gone.’

  The young marine rested his hand on Rodrigues’s shoulder, both stepping at her increased pace as she cried softly, ‘I always said it was laziness having a car here…it’s an island. I wanted a horse and trap like the retired couple next door, but my father insisted…’ She shook her head, realising the relief filling her frame upon finding others, and luckily soldiers, unaware she was talking incessantly, the shock apparent to the young marine, ‘Still, hopefully we will find the car at the mooring…it’s only a small boat, but will get us across to Moon island. My father shares the boat trips with his boss…their family had gone too, so they maybe together. They had a bigger launch…very expensive, but my mother loved it here, so when my father became a junior partner he bought a small house here with his inheritance…we are poor in comparison with the neighbours.’

  They continued walking along the coastal path, the teenager talking continuously as she cried, drawing sharp breaths between each sentence, a cool breeze blowing in from the water. Rodrigues stared out into the darkness towards the tall burning buildings in the distance, oblivious to the cracks of sniper fire and dull explosions, his head dropping despondently as he glimpsed a billowing mass of fire rising, the gas mains fracturing in the lower city.

  The stars sparkled above as they trudged on, a city burning fierc
ely to the north, bitter street fighting slowly pushing the human defenders from their defences and back northwards and westwards.

  The three figures stood at the end of a sturdy wide wooden jetty, shivering in the cooler breeze and glancing round into the darkness, the waves lapping against the rocks behind them, many of the moorings empty from boat owners that had already departed from the island. In the distance to the south west, the swinging dock lights of Moon Island and a road link to the mainland beckoned, almost within reach albeit for a narrow strip of water, the Sculpin Ledge Channel.

  The young marine pointed out across the lapping waves, his voice lowered to a startled whisper as the two panting Boxer dogs whined once more in fear, ‘There is movement in the water…I don’t want to cross. We can’t get a motor boat; the enemy will hear the engines…we will not be alive long.’ He stared further, straining his eyes and seeing the water’s surface breaking occasionally, swallowing hard as the nausea rose from his stomach in dread.

  Rodrigues shook his head in frustration, unable to hear his colleague, ‘I remember Boston Police firing range is on Moon Island…we challenged them to a shoot off some time ago…there may be guns there.’

  The teenage girl pulled on the leashes once more, running her hands fondly across the frightened dogs’ heads, ‘There are usually some sailing or pleasure boats on the next jetty, mostly for hire or charter to tourists…there were also some rowing boats on the beach for fishing…we could take one of those?’

  The young marine nodded nervously, ‘Rowing boat then…that will be quieter and I know how to do that…’ He glanced around nervously as a distant shrill shriek from the interior of the island rang out, a blood curdling howl accompanying it as the Morgon patrols began to spread out and investigate the southern buildings. Turning, he reached for his pistol, fear beginning to fill his chest, ‘Perhaps we need to move now…they may be hunting us…the beasts may have our scent…’

  Rodrigues slowly lowered to a crouch, staring into the lapping waves, the wood creaking beneath his weight as he drew breath, pointing outwards at the numerous breaks in the surface of the waves, ‘In the water…dead bodies…hundreds of them.’ The Latino gasped, straining his eyes, ‘They must have floated down from Boston…the tide is taking them out…’ He glanced round at the other two, wincing in despondency, ‘We take a boat without a motor…no propellers, they could cut open the bodies or worse, get jammed…the blood would attract the enemy or even sharks!’

  Chapter Twenty One: Arrival

  Several Hours Later…far away in Deep Space

  Galactic Freedom lower deck

  The lights began to shimmer off the darkened walls, David Bland staring in intrigue at the seemingly mottled surfaces, his eyes widening as he realised the surface was uneven, that the lighting effect was as a result of dull spots set into the ceiling sparkling off minute gems or clear stones within the walls themselves.

  Stepping forward to examine the surfaces more closely, he heard the muffled voices behind, captain Dugachard stepping through the thick deep red back curtains to join Riaz, Shino and Debra Hardie, nodding as they all stiffened, ‘Stand easy…no need for formalities this morning.’ She forced a smile, Riaz’s eyes drifting over her armoured shoulder plate to the glinting silver Leopard’s snarling head emblazoned across the curtains, his eyes then moving back to the officer’s distinguished features as the Trevakian continued, ‘This will not take too long…’

  She hesitated, smiling as she looked them up and down individually, inspecting her new soldiers, seeing their combat tunics and breeches were almost immaculate, dark bubbled shoulder armour edged in red, their newly added dull resin shin and thigh protectors complimented with additional arm protection, the newly produced and enhanced standard uniform of the amalgamated Trevakian and human unit.

  The smile widened to a grin as she glimpsed David Bland’s hand running across the wall behind them in fascination, the captain clearing her throat, ‘Once this gathering is completed, we will have a briefing in the mess hall. Apparently we are slowing at the outskirts of your human universe…your planet Earth is only a few hours away from our ships. We will gain a full insight into the situation there and then progress further…you are nearly home.’

  Captain Dugachard’s eyes stared into the faces of each one of the three human subordinates and companions, seeing Debra and Shino’s emotional response, Riaz’s eyes straining in resolute determination as he whispered slowly under his breath, ‘Now we will finally see what they have done…’

  Shino looked up at her colleague in surprise, wiping a tear from her eye as she grasped his elbow reassuringly, ‘Riaz, we are home…surely…are you not happy to be back?’

  The young asian male forced a smile, winking cheekily at the captain to distract them from his darkening mood, his voice rising slightly in a distracting lie, ‘Yes…can’t wait to wash the BMW and get out onto the M25 motorway…go through the gears…’

  The Trevakian nodded, noticing Debra stare at the young male with suspicion, her voice lowered as more figures stepped through the curtains, ‘If you want to go home as soon as we land…we can arrange a suitable transport drop if the situation permits…there are very few of you and it’s the least we can do.’

  Riaz shook his head immediately, an arm sweeping round Shino’s shoulder armour as her eyes widened in uncomfortable confusion, the grip tightening fondly, ‘I will follow orders…whatever has to be done first…’

  More uniformed figures stepped through the curtains, the group turning to look as Jozefina Kapralova roamed into view with Tregan behind, several of the forward personnel high ranking Trevakian officers. The Heathrow supervisor’s eyes fixed on the small group as she approached, extending her arms as Debra reached for her, the two managers hugging, Riaz averting his eyes as he glimpsed a tearful Jozefina. Shino concealed a grin as she glimpsed Debra Hardie’s hand briefly touch Tregan’s, instinctively turning her head to stare at the marble styled tiles below.

  A low musical tribute began to sound before the assembled figures as they all turned to face further deep red curtains ahead, the silver snarling Leopard’s face gradually splitting in two as the thick shroud parted slowly. The lights above dimmed as a forward silver lectern appeared, the admiral of the ship stood formally behind it in a sharply pressed Trevakian fleet uniform, his head bowed as the curtains moved further.

  Chrome handled and lidded coffins roaming into view in lines to either side, each supported on low mechanical legs, above and behind, rectangular viewing windows looking out into the darkness beyond, sparkling stars in the distance, space dust sweeping past as the large vessel surged onwards. The assembled crowd stared up at the large portrait between the windows and behind the admiral, two meticulously painted crouched figures facing the audience, both staring forward in determination and brandishing assault rifles. One was of a Trevakian camouflaged marine, the other a human soldier in the newly issued uniform, Riaz’s eyes widening as his heart rate rose in loyal excitement. Beneath the two figures, the bold gold outlined words were in extreme, almost bloodlike red against a black glittering wall, ‘Together our races combine…onwards to Victory!’ and underneath, Riaz’s chest swelling in pride and determination in response, ‘Our time together is now!’

  Shino shuddered against him, her whisper not going unheard, ‘My god…we are now as one…’ Debra drew a sharp breath, her arms around Jozefina as the other duty manager sobbed uncontrollably, glimpsing the second coffin to the right of the lectern, small names in gold writing on the end of each casket, the one her tearful eyes rested upon seeming to stand out from the others, the name significant, ‘Rees’ and underneath ‘Highly Decorated’.

  The admiral cleared his throat, a lone light above rising in intensity as he stepped up to the lectern in the dark blue fleet uniform, the markings of numerous medals across his right chest. Glancing across the fifty or so figures, he noticed David Bland briefly, the airport manager’s head dropping after recognising each of the e
tched names on the end of the coffins, three figures near the Heathrow employee seeming equally as distressed and straining to suppress their emotions. His eyes eventually rested on a muscular asian soldier, the defined features staring forwards in ultimate determination as the admiral smiled faintly.

  Coughing slightly, the admiral rested his hands of the sides of the silver presentation platform, his voice rising, ‘We have come to show our respect for the fallen…a new ally that has paid dearly for their ultimate loyalty to our empire. These innocent sacrifices stand against a vicious enemy that they had no experience of…all fought bravely and courageously against overwhelming odds before ultimately falling as a result of their wounds received on the field of battle.’ The admiral drew breath, briefly glancing across the room once more, ‘These initial volunteers paid heavily for their eagerness and unflinching willingness to stubbornly resist with over three hundred other humans buried on our distant planet, Zaxon B.’

  He shook his head despondently before looking up, the tone rising, ‘I can share with you now…preliminary reports from Planet Earth are grave, with fighting across several continents. Two powerful Morgon ships are in high orbit, soon to launch dropships no doubt…there have been many casualties. The fight will be hard and bitter…but be assured, we will overcome the enemy…we will drive them back into the darkness.’ His hands gestured almost painfully to the coffins on either side, ‘If not only for the fallen…we have to overcome this vicious unforgiving threat and menace to our…both our existences and for ultimate survival. The enemy will not stop until we are completely destroyed…so we must counter with equal resolve and determination…eliminate and obliterate them, show no mercy.’ His hands tightened on the sides of the lectern once more, ‘We must show no restraint to be ultimately victorious…’

  The admiral gestured to the opposite side of the room, Riaz’s eyes following the outstretched hand as the fleet commander continued, five Fahimians including Begum stiffening as the senior officer indicated to their group, ‘Our newest allies have joined the struggle, willingly committing their commandoes and space fighters to the conflict ahead. With upgrades to our infantry rifles and additional weaponry, they have proven to be already a considerable asset to our friendship…both generous and eager volunteers.’