The admiral stepped back, whispering to a senior Intelligence Service commander with her adjutant sat behind in a darkened corner of the room, the female officer nodding her approval before indicating that she would join the admiral, rising to step in behind him as he approached the table once more.
Clearing his throat as the darkly uniformed I.S. (Intelligence Service) commander drew alongside, he indicated to one of the glowing smaller hologram planets, the surfaces seeming to be tinged with red as the muffled chatter fell away, ‘You may be fully aware that our ships have slowed and that we are gradually adopting a cloaked battle formation, this is in final preparation for the attack ahead.’ The admiral shifted his stance slightly, grasping the sides of the table, ‘We have intercepted the information pod jettisoned from our Battle Cruiser ahead…they have remained concealed behind this planet of Mars for a number of days, scanning the enemy’s movements and progress on this planet earth’s surface.’ He grinned thoughtfully, ‘Their vice admiral is to be commended for his cunning…placing probes in caverns on Mars and allowing the planet’s rotation to then permit scanning of the enemy has apparently left them completely unaware of our approach.’
The admiral smiled fleetingly, ‘We are moving between the planets, allowing their orbit around the sun to conceal our presence as we draw nearer, numerous comets and asteroids will also cause problems for Morgon scanners…there is considerable space debris in this sector and it was chosen for this reason.’
He shifted uncomfortably once more, glancing across at the intelligence commander, the female nodding for him to continue, ‘The battle will evolve in two sections…without neutralising one or both of the Morgon warships, we cannot expect to win or fully alleviate any battle on the surface…but will reinforce our beleaguered allies.’ He indicated to the projected planet of earth, two small dots orbiting on opposite sides, the admiral raising his hand above the hologram to enlarge the image, several eyes widening around the table as they glimpsed the size of the warships, ‘We have an opportunity…the ships are in close orbit to support their ground forces and therefore have no direct communication with each other. We must complete an attack on one, but maintain the planet as a shield to prevent the intervention of the other…intelligence has predicted that we are of insufficient strength to combat both vessels and their considerable firepower at the same time.’
The admiral grimaced, his eyes narrowing, ‘We have designated one cruiser as a distraction for the Morgon warship…a sacrifice if you like. This coupled with Fahimian distortion technology should confuse them for a short time whilst our ships all engage the one ship…you all have predetermined targets across the hull and should not deviate from these…these and secondary targets are in your individual orders that will be delivered by intelligence in approximately one hour.’ He swallowed nervously, ‘Fighters and bombers will also target the warship to further engage their defences as we launch our main infantry forces toward earth with escorts.’
The intelligence service commander cleared her throat as the admiral stepped back, her hand expertly tapping on the screen directly below as the hologram flickered and died, further colours surging and becoming clearer as the table lights changed, projecting the images upwards. Several of the seated officers smiled in anticipation, the Fahimians swinging their feet beneath their chairs as they leant forward, their brown eyes widening as the images sharpened, lines of fighters and bombers forming along with the battle cruiser and battleships.
The I.S. senior officer smiled reassuringly, her open palm waving across the formalised fleet, ‘These are our projected battle formations…’ She indicated to the numerous smaller blue ships on the right, numbering nearly two and a half thousand, a red battleship and cruiser behind, ‘This section is designated for earth…’ The admiral drew a deep breath of pride as she continued, ‘An initial drop of sixty thousand Trevakian marines to reinforce our human allies…this will be followed by a second wave of forty thousand…once the transports return. They will receive support from the two fleet ships initially to ensure they are able to deploy their soldiers successfully to the surface. The transports will continue shuttling supplies and new weapons for our earth allies for the foreseeable future…or until we can open a portal to Alexion One.’
She indicated to a second, much smaller section of red ships next to the first, ‘Fahimian commandoes will also land with their fighter support…and some more of our troops, five thousand in all. The Fahimian fighters will be based at an airfield in Great Britain…Heathrow I think it is called. We currently have a ship cloaked nearby and these fighters should provide valuable protection as well as establish further communication links. Trevakian fighters will also engage Morgon craft in concentrated waves, but will remain based on our orbiting ships for protection purposes.’
She sighed, staring across the images, ‘It is imperative one of the Morgon warships is disabled or destroyed for us to continually support the surface effort. If this is not achieved, then the planet will simply be lost and we will have to withdraw and request further support...it will be a long time coming if at all.’ She ignored the lowering heads and strained expressions, turning to the admiral, ‘Have you anything to add?’ He shook his head, his hand raising slightly for her to continue.
The I.S. commander pointed to the next section of craft, the larger vessels also with the group, ‘This is the main attack force that will strike against the warship…over five hundred fighters and bombers as well as our capital ships.’ She smiled towards the Fahimians, nodding at Begum, ‘With an additional ship that apparently will join us as we attack…’
Begum giggled as the translation burbled into his ear, swinging his legs in embarrassment and glancing round, ‘We will appear!’ The small figure beamed with excitement, pointing to the hologram display, ‘All Morgons will die!’
Nervous chuckles spread across the room, the Fahimians smiling confidently as one senior officer raised his hand in curiosity, the intelligence service commander gesturing for him to speak, ‘Sir…there is one more section of craft…’ He indicated towards a lower set of small vessels, ‘These…about fifty vessels…are they the reserves?’
The female intelligence officer nodded readily, staring across at the Fahimians as the smaller figures lowered their heads, concealing grins. Chuckling, the slightly flustered admiral interjected, ‘Reserves…yes. Fahimian fighters and some of our craft…not many, but ready to reinforce when required…’ He glanced across the seated commanders, confident they all seemed satisfied, ‘Very well, that concludes the briefing…now are there any further questions?’
One hand rose, the commander of a smaller vessel, his face flushed with nervousness, ‘What will provoke a decision to withdraw admiral?’
The I.S. officer seemed thoughtful, ‘Interesting question. That decision will be made only as the battle develops. We understand virtually all Morgon fighters and dropships are within the earth’s atmosphere, fortuitously deployed to differing locations…as and when they are able to return may decide the battle if they are in overwhelming numbers.’ Her expression darkened, ‘If the weakened human forces are able to delay them along with our own escorting fighter and the Fahimians…we will have a chance of victory.’
The admiral hesitated, seeing all the commanders seemed satisfied, ‘Intelligence officers will be waiting for you at your personal transports…please return to your ships…the first infantry wave will be preparing to embark onto attack craft soon.’
Galactic Freedom Armoury Assembly
Tregan strode between the two lined companies and out before them, the soldiers behind staring at his figure expectantly, the paintings on the wall ahead showing a grim faced Trevakian marine crouched in one corner with a human trooper opposite, both brandishing the newly designed laser rifles, their uniforms identical to the assembled two companies. Spotlights glimmered across the two pictures, the surrounding uneven surface seeming to shine and sparkle as the soldiers looked up at the figures before them, a l
arge red sign highlighted below the ceiling, ‘Freedom Battalion…home of the brave.’
Tregan turned on his heels, staring towards the crimson curtain across the rear wall, the snarling silver leopards face glinting in the illumination as he half smiled, raising his voice as the many eyes moved back to him, ‘Companies to attention!’
Six hundred pairs of boots slammed together in unison, Tregan stifling a smile at the lack of salute, the battalion now seeming fully trained…albeit if only in what had been his own personal objective, uniformed drill. Staring back at the curtain, he raised his voice once more, two doors behind sliding gradually open, ‘You will now collect your own weapons and energy packs. Zulu company to the left…Yankee company to the right…one platoon at a time, single file and at ease. Move!’
The first platoon leaders stepped forward, Tregan nodding as the uniformed and helmeted male and female soldiers passed, filing through their prospective doors slowly as murmurs and low conversations spread across the assembly area. The armourers beyond the doors issued the new laser rifles and high potency energy belts to each individual before indicating for the soldiers to progress further, engineers waiting to synchronise the weapons with the DNA of each soldier.
As each platoon filed past him, his eyes filled emotionally and with fondness, recalling his close comrade Mrin and how they had several times filed through similar doors together, laughing with the excitement of adventure, adrenalin rising in their chests for the missions to come. His jaw tightened as more soldiers passed, nodding to them in determination and forcing a weak smile, several returning the gesture with a grim exchange as he saw the sparkle of nervous adrenalin in their eyes.
Tregan stiffened as the second last lines passed by, his eyes moving to Debra Hardie, Riaz and Shino stood next to her as he nodded, turning on his heels to lead his own platoon, Debra stepping forward to approach his muscular figure.
Shino poked Riaz in the back as they queued, leaning forward to whisper, ‘Well, here goes…back to earth and heaven knows what. I just hope my Audi is okay…’
Riaz’s eyes strained, a smile forming on his face as his helmeted head turned to the side, ‘Audi? What about Aurelio…he is your boyfriend after all?’
Shino giggled self-consciously as they neared the open door, ‘He will be alright…my mother will look after him…she loves him loads. She will have fed him so much, he probably won’t be able to move now.’ She smiled fondly, recalling her long standing relationship, ‘My cousins will get him drunk every night…then make him sing karaoke…or challenge him to computer games.’ She giggled once more, ‘Aurelio hates that…they always cheat or give him songs his voice can’t manage…he falls for it every time after several Jack Daniels! He gets determined and competitive then…’ Her eyes rose to the small sign above the door, the statement profound and causing her to smile faintly, recalling her first experience on Alexion One as she passed through into the armoury, ‘Our time is now!’
Riaz grinned, shaking his head and wincing, ‘Now Jack Daniels is what I would have liked last night…that wine was strong, I feel a bit rough…’
Shino prodded him again as they neared the desk issuing firearms, the surface highly lit from above as rifles were handed forward from racks behind, ‘Lightweight…I feel fine. I had one more than you too…’
Debra grasped the short rifle handed to her, slipping the energy belt over her shoulder armour and staring down at the sleek silver surface, her fingers running along the barrel and muzzle, Tregan smiling as he collected four pulse grenades placed in front of him, ‘It’s just like the one on the fitness deck?’
Debra grinned, rolling the weapon over in her hands, ‘Yes…but lighter…and real.’ They stepped forward towards the engineers, a couple of shorter Fahimian observers with the Trevakians to answer questions, Tregan slipping the belt around him with the rifle strap over his shoulder, a loud click as the automated energy holsters adjusted to his waist, the platoon leader placing the grenades into the slots between the energy power packs.
An engineer in blue overalls and a cap gestured them forward, raising a specimen rifle in his hands, Riaz and Shino stepping in behind the other two, the young demonstrator indicating to the lower side of the weapon and pulling a small box from its mounting, ‘You thrust the energy power pack in here…place the used battery back into the empty slot in your belt…it will slowly recharge from your movement.’ He glanced up, winking at Shino as her head slipped round the side of Tregan, pointing to a large silver box on the surface between him and the next engineer, ‘In a prolonged firefight, additional high energy canisters will be dropped by each platoon’s squad leader…’ He pointed to a red slot on the top of the canister, then the green one at the opposite end, ‘You drop your spent cell in here and a fully charged one will rise from the green channel. This box will recharge the cells as quickly as possible.’ The young engineer blushed slightly as he looked up into Shino’s inquisitive brown eyes once more, ‘In heavy fighting, you can open the canister and retrieve as many cells as you like from their slots, but this reduces the recharge capability considerably.’ Exhaling, his eyes strained as he felt Shino staring provocatively at his features, ‘There are five canisters per platoon…two or three platoons per dropship, the canisters designed to fit in the overhead racks.’ He grinned in satisfaction as his thoughts moved to the additional designs of the boxes, ‘They have magnetic capabilities, so they will resist any movement other than those by the squad leader or soldier…grasp one side handle to release the resistance. They also will gain additional recharge from any planet’s gravitational field…we estimate on human earth that this will be a significant boost.’
Looking up, he grinned at Debra, blushing as Shino winked mischievously at him, the more robust female squad leader deliberately stepping in front of the Philippine as she smiled politely, ‘Fantastic…when did your division design all this?’
The young engineer beamed in pride, continuing as Tregan nodded his appreciation, ‘All during the voyage from Zaxon B…we worked in shifts, round the clock…’ He coughed nervously, ‘The gravitational recharge was my section…we are all very proud.’
Tregan’s eyes widened in admiration as the young man raised an engineering tablet, flicking his fingers expertly across the screen, the platoon leader speaking softly, ‘That’s an excellent job…limited time and quite an achievement…what will you work on next?’
The engineer glanced up at him, grinning sheepishly, ‘Sorry sir…that is classified.’ He drew breath, nodding as lights pulsed briefly across the barrels of the rifles, ‘Now your weapons are synchronised to you individually…if you lose your rifle you can pick up one from one of the fallen as long as they are in the same company…the weapon should re-synchronise relatively quickly, but don’t try and fire it immediately…that will interrupt the sequence.’ He indicated to the next doorway, glancing down at Riaz’s belt, ‘Through there to get your blaster pistols and more grenades if you don’t have them.’ He averted his eyes as Shino winked once more, Riaz pushing her as they passed, the engineer speaking as they departed, ‘We will have an observer with Zulu company…making sure the weapons are all functioning at maximum efficiency…’
Shino giggled playfully as they passed into a smaller room, Riaz depositing grenades from the dispensary surface into the slots on his belt as she reached for them, ‘He spoke very good English…’
Debra turned as she was handed a black pistol with a short snubbed barrel, nodding her thanks to the armourer before her before looking towards the Philippine, ‘Shino…behave! He was very young and has probably not experienced much female company…you made him blush.’
Riaz forced an innocent expression, picking up his own pistol and observing Tregan slip his into a side slot in his combat trousers, the Trevakian then retrieving a jagged black polymer knife and placing it in the opposite slot, ‘Are you insinuating Shino and I have experienced considerable female company in the past?’
Tregan grinned, shaki
ng his head in exasperation, ‘I will soon understand this human humour I think…you play with words, it is quite appealing.’
Debra grunted in mock irritation, ‘They will be playing at press-ups and squat thrusts in a minute…I am their squad leader!’
She smiled as Tregan chuckled innocently, ‘Now that I found amusing…’ He turned, expression suddenly becoming more serious, ‘These pistols fire a wide blast over short distance…used for close combat only, emitting a bright forward light with overpowering pungent black resin discharge. They are designed to blind opponents…disorientate them and allow you to attack closer with the knife or run for cover. Do not fire them if your comrades are in front of you. They are also not synchronised as we consider them too small for the Morgons to use.’
Shino grimaced, sniffing the barrel and straining her eyes, ‘That’s nasty…smells like Riaz after a red tinned ration…’
Tregan smiled again seeing Riaz grit his teeth, then indicated to the next doorway, the grin dropping from his face as he glimpsed the assembling platoons in lines, lowered rear grey doors before them, ‘We had better hurry…Captain Dugachard is waiting…they are boarding the dropships.’
Galactic Freedom Bridge
The robust admiral sat in his comfortable command chair, glancing across the screen in front of him, reports of unit movements filling the display as he smiled, adrenalin beginning to fill his frame as the other fleet ships began to move forward at increased speed, additional energy channelled into the cloaking devices. Turning the chair round, he looked over the semi-circle of ensigns behind, all tapping away furiously and studying power surges and output from the engines, his voice rising, ‘An update please and are all ships following their predetermined courses?’
The female lead ensign nodded, staring at the dark blue uniform before her, numerous decorations across the admiral’s chest, ‘Yes sir…we will emerge from behind the planet shortly, then increase velocity…’ She glanced down and then up again nervously, ‘The target Morgon warship is continuing in orbit and will be visible for our attack soon…the other ship will then have passed out of sight. Sensors indicate that most of their drop ships and fighters may now be within the earth’s atmosphere…that they may have just deployed their invasion troops to the surface…’ She swallowed in rising excitement, ‘We predict our trajectory is currently correct. The Fahimian ship is now visible to us and will commence operations soon…’
Planet Genocide II: Galaxies Collide 5: Onslaught Page 26