Planet Genocide II: Galaxies Collide 5: Onslaught

by Andrew McGregor

  The fighters of Viper squadron surged forward, the vast warship ahead beginning to fill their forward screens as stars sparkled to either side and above, the pilots completing last minute checks and occasionally glancing outwards in rising uneasy excitement. Instrument displays scrolled information, the red lettering informing the flyers of latest updates to software and the diminishing countdown to action, the pilots’ breathing becoming shallower with adrenalin as several looked across the screens nervously, the clicking counter becoming beeps as the timers neared zero.

  The Morgon commander turned in alarm from the tutted conversation with an engineer on the command chair intercom, red emergency lights surging across the warship bridge as numerous power surges were detected, his alarmed shrieks invoking feverish activity from the ensigns around the deck. All were attempting to establish details as the armoured helmet of the engineer on numerous decks below shook in frustration, his uncomfortable report that too many reserves had been deployed towards the planet below being initially rejected by the overall commander.

  Virtual panic ensued, the bridge operators staring at flickering screens as Fahimian distortion techniques began to sweep through sensory equipment, one deck officer shrieking in alarm as the white armoured commander rose to his feet in utter disgust at the distraught behaviour. His scaled face strained beneath the helmet as the tracing report was disseminated, the ensign’s helmet staring towards the commander, the images filling with one collective relished recognition word, ‘Fahimian’.

  The Morgon commander licked his scaled lips, the eyes on the white embossed helmet glowing red in rising excitement at the possibility of destroying the last Fahimian vessel, the accolades and prestige that would invariably follow...along with numerous prized decapitated skull trophies…he would be a hero.

  The tall muscular commander’s white armour glistened as he shrieked, ‘(Translation) Find the vessel…target all weapons, disable it! All remaining troops ready for boarding…we finally destroy this puny race now! This last interrupting flame of a failed defeated people is to be extinguished here…along with the bountiful harvest of food on the planet below! We will eat well this day!’

  The power surges increased, contorted images flickering across the Morgon displays as differing known vessels from the Fahimian Republic were deciphered and compared, then dismissed by the warship network, the emerging vessel signatures not meeting anything that had been experienced before. Eventually, the differing scans all produced the same result, a large unknown vessel of Fahimian origin was uncloaking, the commander’s eyes sparkling deep crimson as the warning continued, the opposing vessel was preparing to open fire.

  Slowly a wavering image formed across the main forward screen, static charges around the vast ship surging and crackling as the vessel began to materialise in the deep space behind the orbiting warship, shrieks of alarm and excited relief filling the Morgon bridge as the darkness flickered and seemed to glow, the outer edges of the ship surging in intensity.

  The white armoured commander stared up at the large image, shrieking for the distortion to be targeted, an arm rising in readiness as the ensigns flicked their hands across sensitive controls, high powered lasers arming as the vast ship slowed, beginning to gradually turn on its axis towards the Fahimian vessel.

  The space distortion continued to flicker, the image slowly becoming sharper as the enormous power surges continued, the commander holding his breath in rising excitement, almost sensing the personal glory and victory as the warship turned further, static crackling along the large emerging side guns, the muzzles extending outwards and towards the uncloaking ship.

  The Decimator warship shuddered to a halt, the deep hum of the engines surging through the superstructure as the side motors stabilised the Morgon orbit, the vast ship now facing outwards from the blue ringed planet behind, the side flak turrets beginning to rotate in readiness to protect the ship from the oncoming scattered orbiting debris.

  As the ship became distinct and clearer, the arm dropped abruptly, the ensigns looking up at the screen as the side barrels recoiled, intense bright light jettisoning from the muzzles and surging forward towards the angular Fahimian vessel. The white helmet lowered to one side, the majority of the ensigns staring at the fully formed ship before them, the vessel’s guns flashing as it opened fire, torpedoes sweeping out from the upper and lower silos.

  Red sparkling eyes followed the laser blasts intently, awaiting the distant explosions and for the smaller Fahimian ship to shudder, the laser barrels retargeting the upper torpedo tubes, high powered energy surging and crackling along the barrels once more. The red alert lights continued to flash, one junior ensign briefly glancing down onto her console before straining in disbelief at the report below, the remainder of the crew still mesmerised by the streaming images above.

  The laser blasts swept through the ship ahead, the image shimmering once more as the red lights continued to flash, the white armoured commander staggering backwards in shock as shrieks of anger filled the bridge, the third blasts of laser fire surging outwards. The junior ensign rose slowly, still staring down at the console below in horror, reporting lines streaming upwards as sensors identified hundreds of de-cloaking craft, the armoured helmet shaking in disbelief as further shrieks of alarm rang out, the other controllers suddenly beginning to realise the emerging threat, a fist crashing down on the bridge alarm activator.

  The commander glanced round, a low siren beginning to wail across the warship, echoing through the darkened corridors and dispersal bays, startled crew members glancing up as the white armoured officer shrieked for information, demanding several fighter squadrons were urgently recalled and that a message was sent to the other warship. The lead ensign rose abruptly, stiffening to attention as gloved hands on either side ran frantically across screens, the clicking and tutting voice reporting reluctantly…Morgon communications to and from the warship had just been jammed.

  The Trevakian admiral rose to his feet, staring up at the large screen as he shouted, ‘Send the signal to all vessels, ‘Freedom abound!’ He drew a sharp breath, ‘All ships…open fire!’ Stepping back, he stared momentarily in hatred at the vast dark hulled warship ahead on the screen, his voice rising in adrenalin fuelled energy, ‘Transmit to earth…numerous channels…your Trevakian allies are here and we will not leave our friends! We join with our comrades in a conflict of annihilation…you humans are no longer alone! This is the beginning of the end for Morgon scum…we will stand and defeat them here together as one force!’

  The portly commander lowered himself into his chair, nodding urgently towards the lead ensign, ‘Is the craft away with the schematics for new weapons? Have additional stocks of the new rifles been shipped for the soldiers on earth?’

  The ensign rose abruptly, staring ahead as she stiffened, ‘Yes admiral…all is as you instructed. The accompanying unit is unaware of their cargo or destination…only their lead and secondary pilots have been briefed as to where to land…we have just jettisoned a pod for the Trevakian vessel on the planet below…Admiral Karladen should be in possession of the information within forty eight hours!’

  Earth surface, West London:

  Admiral Karladen grinned as Dryden continued to talk about the successful treatment of wounded and the assistance medical beds had provided for the local community, several patients openly weeping as their illnesses and injuries were cured or quality of life improved dramatically, the commander relaxing further and enthused by the younger Trevakian’s pride and unsupervised achievements.

  The small café near Osterley park offered a variety of popular breakfasts, the signature of the reknowned establishment to provide extensive portions, but always to encourage patrons to finish their meal, a variety of printed motivational sayings and comical pictures around the servery, the keen staff trained to recommend or adapt dishes to appeal to each individual customer’s taste.

  With the arrival of the vessel from a distant galaxy, the café had never exper
ienced the levels of trade achieved, visitors and sightseers swelling the regular customer numbers as the local council was forced to permit extended opening times, and then finally twenty four hour operations. In addition, the new arrivals were also keen to experience local food, a substantial order soon established every couple of evenings for the Trevakians to share within the confines of the cloaked ship.

  With the establishment busy that morning, an extra table had been prepared as the proprietor initially glanced up and down the admiral’s uniform in awe, smiling welcomingly as he beckoned the Trevakian commander and his companion inside, the waiters hastily moving a regular customer from the window with the promise of a free meal to seat the senior officer in full view of any passing pedestrians. Any inquisitive view was immediately enhanced as two burly armed marines adopted positions either side of the main door, four other members of the admiral’s security detail standing across the road opposite, all brandishing assault rifles with lowered black shining visors.

  Admiral Karladen sipped from his sweet tea, listening intently as Dryden explained the installation of the first medical bed in a local hospital and the challenges the accompanying engineer had faced to ensure the electrical supply was adequate and sustainable at the levels required. Dryden elaborated, advising that to overcome the initial hospital power concerns, he had deployed energy cells as the engineer worked with local electricity company technicians to increase the supply through additional cabling, declaring proudly that the first patient was treated with Trevakian energy.

  Glancing up, they both nodded to the cleanly shaven waiter, the slim Italian beaming at the excitement of serving two ranking officers from another world, his eyes wide with enthusiasm as he asked if the two uniformed patrons would like any more food, his vision resting on two empty plates. Admiral Karladen smiled willingly, ‘If only I could eat more. My vegetarian haggis fritters and full English breakfast was nothing short of excellent…I did like the home made hash browns and mustard scrambled eggs…I will be sending our chef here if acceptable, perhaps to swap recipes?’

  He indicated across to Dryden, the subordinate public relations officer grinning widely, ‘My Welsh Rarebit with house fried mushrooms and onions was absolutely gorgeous, I enjoyed every mouthful…’

  The waiter grinned in satisfaction, nodding in appreciation, ‘I will tell our cook…I am sure he will be very proud. We would be very happy to accommodate your chef…especially if we could offer a shared Trevakian dish on our menu?’

  The admiral chuckled, Dryden also laughing as the waiter suddenly looked away, the blue flashing lights of a police car lurching to a halt outside, a fleet uniformed ensign struggling from the back seat before lunging towards the entrance. The young man was clearly excited as he burst through the door breathlessly, the startled seated customers turning to stare as the ensign stiffened to attention, his fist slamming against his chest before the admiral’s table, the waiter stepping back in shock as the Trevakian swallowed, ‘Admiral…sir. We have just received a signal…’

  Admiral Karladen’s eyes widened in stunned silence, his body rising as he indicated for the subordinate to continue, Dryden drawing a deep breath as the ensign’s eyes sparkled with emotion, ‘Admiral…there are numerous ships from fleet above us…they have just arrived!’ He glanced round at the rising patrons, spittle falling from his mouth as he shouted, ‘Hundreds of drop ships are descending…Trevakian marines are coming! We are apparently now engaging one of the enemy’s warships.’

  A brief incomprehensive silence ensued before loud cheers and energised shouts erupted, people punching the air in glee as the admiral nodded to Dryden, striding to the door as a fleeting excited grin swept across his face, his voice strained at the smiling marines outside, ‘Back to the ship…I have a feeling we may soon have visitors!’

  Freedom Abound

  Explosions ripped across the shields of the warship, the protective energy wall shimmering as it weakened…torpedoes, high powered laser fire and missiles erupting above target coordinates as the warship turrets traversed, sparks flying across interior corridors and outer hull rooms as the numerous detonations increased in ferocity, the outer shield beginning to glow across areas of damage or loss of integrity. Shrieks of anger filled the barrack rooms and stores as the Morgon crew members stumbled and ran from mess halls, the maintenance crews staring out in disbelief at the flashing lights far across dark space, the Trevakian ships pounding the warship as it slowly turned back to face the new aggressive threat.

  The fighters of the newly formed Viper squadron spun in space as they banked hard, beginning a rapid assault run on the warship flank as Anjara broke radio silence briefly, ‘Configure shields as we were instructed…run final torpedo checks, we must ensure direct hits on the outer motors…disable their efforts, then strafe the gunnery positions…’ The pilots gloved hands flicked across their controls, the Fahimian covert transponders immediately transforming to match the outer shield, timers before the electronic ruse was disabled suddenly appearing on the displays below. Tracers and laser flak swept outwards towards the oncoming fighters and bombers, the stunned turret gunners responding to frantic screams in their helmet radios from the bridge.

  Fahimian fighters rapidly uncloaked behind the Trevakian vessels, screams of excitement coming from the small pilots and rear gunners as the craft tore towards the vast vessel, their petit hands reconfiguring transponders as bright lights flashed across their cockpits, the proximity warning alarms beeping continuously as the crimson fighters shimmered in the sun’s reflective rays, the velocity increasing dramatically as space dust and swirling cloud streamed behind.

  Surging through the outer shield, Anjara’s tensed eyes opened wider in relief at the effectiveness of the Fahimian technology, his vision moving to the targeting scope, wild firing tracers and flak buffeting the craft violently as startled gunners reacted to enemy fighters within their shield, frantically reconfiguring their weapons for close combat.

  Several black fighters emerged from the glimmering upper forward dispersal bay, Anjara’s eyes narrowing as his hands clenched around the advanced stick before him, adrenalin consuming his flame as he shouted, ‘Take them out…then launch torpedoes!’

  The silver gleaming fighter bounced at a large explosion before him, the craft rising and jolting slightly as it shuddered, steam pouring from the wings as he briefly lost sight of the Morgon vessels, sparks flying across the cockpit as he winced, a thumb thrusting hard onto the firing mechanism. The smoke and burning debris bounced across the lead fighter, the blast shield scorched with reinforced metal shrieking as it expanded rapidly, the wing guns crackling as static surged along the barrels.

  Streams of laser fire swept out from the fighter, further blasts of intense light from the accompanying Vipers, flight officer Anjara flicking his other hand across the torpedo safety shield. Two fingers stabbed down as flame surged from the high powered rockets on the vessel underbelly, the targeting crosshairs flashing on the projected display, his hand rapidly moving back to the other side of the stick, cannon shells sweeping out from the tarnished silver nose cone.

  Blinding light belched out from the warship hull, potent guns firing out towards the Trevakian battle cruisers, Anjara straining his eyes in the glare that instantly lit up his cockpit, his breath held as he stared towards the distant Morgon fighters. The laser blasts swept into the enemy formation, two craft bucking and rising as flames belched from their perforated hulls, the crippled vessels twisting in space before flames engulfed their hulls, another panicked pilot slamming into the inferno as his own craft fragmented, banking sharply as the engines surged in power, cannon shells tearing through the fuselage, the inexperienced flyer cutting across another vessel’s path before a potent flash of burning fuel, the following craft erupting as the two Morgon vessels imploded.

  Flight officer Anjara swore under his breath, the Trevakian fighter bouncing and shaking violently on space eruptions, his eyes now following the green glowing torp
edoes traces as they swept outwards before turning sharply within the outer shield, further missiles joining his own to target other key points, the green burning fuel on the Fahimian adapted ordinance accelerating towards the shuddering warship.

  The eruptions swept outwards from the direct impacts on the hull, flame and debris jettisoned into space as further explosions from the torpedoes smacked against the targeted outer points, cheers filling the airwaves as Anjara opened the intercom, ‘Strafe key points, then spiral downwards…’ Emotional tears filled his eyes as he glimpsed the clouds of mechanical fuel leaking from their target points, further bright tracers sweeping across the front of his fighter, ‘Mission accomplished…onwards to earth!’

  His fingers pressed hard forward, bright laser blasts surging from under the wings and cracking against turret gun mountings, the Morgon crews inside thrown back and forth as their armoured positions shook from the force, the large eruptions on the flickering outer shields sending vibrations through the hull.

  Twisting his stick, Anjara’s fighter turned over on its back, plummeting downwards with Viper wing behind, the furious tracers and flak erupting around them, colourful Fahimian vessels following in their wake, violent eruptions shaking the pilots as several of the craft were hit, spiralling away as the pilots desperately attempted to regain control, two impacting against the warships hull, another three burning fiercely before erupting.