Planet Genocide I (Galaxies Collide Book 3) (25 page)

Admiral Karladen sat facing the United Kingdom Prime Minister, the younger man seeming to have visibly aged in the last few days as he ran his hands through his greying hair, ‘Admiral, is there anything you can do to get help from your fleet, the situation seems to be worsening by the hour!’

The Trevakian commander shook his head, his expression grave, ‘I am not sure Sir…we have lost contact with our ships above and I am concerned they may have been destroyed, overwhelmed by the Morgons…’

The Deputy Prime Minister shook his head in despair, the room full of grim faced government ministers, ‘The destruction on the American west coast seems to be tantamount to one of the world’s worst natural disasters, we are receiving reports that the western seaboard may have simply collapsed, taking with it most of the American defensive forces in the region. These ‘Morgon’ fighter aircraft are reported as far inland as Idaho and Texas from the west and Ohio from the east…the strongest nation on earth…our ally is facing the brunt of enemy forces it seems and there is nothing we can do to assist them!’ He glanced down to the numerous situation reports on his laptop, ‘They have lost contact with Hawaii and there are unconfirmed reports that Australia and New Zealand are evacuating their shores and cities…’ He read further, ‘The Russians have reported intense fighting in St Petersburg to the north and pleas for urgent assistance from the Ukrainians as reports of enemy concentrations are coming in from numerous locations. They also report the Chinese are mobilising along the mountains on their southern borders. There is heavy fighting in the Far East, Bangkok has apparently fallen with the South Koreans using high powered military ordinance on their own southern cities…unconfirmed reports are flooding in from Russia on a worsening situation in Indonesia and Vietnam and the Philippines is believed to have been also heavily attacked.’

The Prime Minister waved a weary hand, ‘What do we know of the situation in France and our own coastline?’

His deputy glanced down once more, loosening his tie, ‘The French seem to be holding the enemy near the coast, they report that these ‘Morgons’ do not seem to have air support as yet, but that they are struggling to bring their own air power to bear due to losses and heavy ground fire…’ He clicked the keyboard, scrolling the screen up, a team of operators in the next room typing in the reports, ‘We have moved army units to most coastal areas, and called up any reservists for all forces, including the police, fire and ambulance services. Army recruitment is going well and we will have numerous additional units at our disposal within six weeks…’

The Prime Minister stiffened, his head raising sharply as his voice bellowed around the room, ‘Six weeks! We won’t be here in six weeks at this rate…the Americans are struggling after only three days of enemy contact!’

Admiral Karladen raised his hand, the ministers staring at him as silence fell across the room, ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, if I may introduce a differing line of thought?’ The Prime Minister nodded for him to proceed, the Trevakian obliging, ‘I suggest we look at this from another angle…the Morgons will be looking to destroy your capability to defend…they are a cunning and divisive race using both politics and an armoured fist.’

The Deputy Prime Minister leant forward, his voice almost a sneer, ‘We know all this…what do we do? That is the question…’

The Prime Minister slammed his fist on the desk in frustration, his face flushed with anger, ‘Let him finish please…’

Admiral Karladen glanced round the room slowly before continuing, ‘We have done some brief study of your history…they have perhaps attacked at key points to disrupt your alliances…the battles in America and Russia are perfectly understandable…two of the strongest nations on earth that are both willing to intervene elsewhere have been targeted to reduce their willingness to help others. The attacks in the far east are potentially designed to alarm the Chinese and draw them out…force them into battles away from home territory and in the lands of mistrusting others. The French campaign is a ‘side-show’ in my mind, a cunning ploy to keep your focus on the south east, hence the lack of air power deployed in support…they are holding the coast to draw French forces away from other areas.’ He straightened, sitting back in his chair, ‘In short, they are preventing you from coordinating a defence across the nations.’ He leant forward once more, ‘There is little to convince me that they will not win at present…they have stronger soldiers and armour and perhaps an overwhelming strength above…’

The Deputy Prime Minister shook his head dismissively as the Admiral continued, ‘However, they have attacked you conventionally even seemingly with the strength above to destroy you completely…I believe they want this planet for a reason…and they want it quickly.’ He shook his head, ‘We have been unable to determine why as yet and this is just a line of thought…but I am sure my fleet will come, it is just a matter of time and your survival…survive long enough and we will be victorious!’

The Prime Minister’s eyes strained, his voice lowering, ‘But how…how do we survive?’

The Admiral shrugged, ‘We must inflict heavy casualties…fight them as viciously as they fight us…and most of all, create defeat for them.’ He smiled fleetingly, ‘If they hesitate, then we will know their forces are weaker than we imagine…I think we need to consider that they may be overconfident. It is madness attacking in so many places unless you have a plan…all the attack points on land are virtually utilising humans as shields to potentially prevent your use of heavy weaponry. Maybe they do not have the resources we think, after all they are stretched across several galaxies fighting against our Trevakian Empire.’ He shifted uneasily in his seat, ‘Why are your skies and the skies of Europe clear when they should have overwhelming fighter strength? They are planning to attack the earth’s stronger nations one by one it seems…perhaps there lies their weakness?’

The Prime Minister nodded thoughtfully, ‘Interesting…I will arrange for you to meet our military chiefs of staff shortly, let us think more tactically…’ His eyes narrowed as the Deputy Prime Minister looked up from his screen in excitement, indicating for him to speak.

The man swallowed hard, ‘Sir, reports of enemy craft engaging our fighters in northern Scotland…the coastline is on full military alert and it seems they have attacked and potentially taken the oils rigs in the North Sea…if true, that will dramatically affect our fuel reserves over the medium term…’ He glanced down again as an uneasy murmur spread across the room, ‘There is also a police escort heading for London, a ‘Vice-Admiral Chergui’ is en-route to us from Yorkshire.’

Admiral Karladen shook his head in despondency, rising to his feet slowly, ‘That will mean the end of our orbiting ships then…’ He looked round the room, seeing the grim faces staring up at him, ‘I will communicate with my ship and await the Vice-Admiral…’ He turned, then hesitated, his tone thoughtful, ‘We must always consider that where there is life…there is always hope…’ The Trevakian turned on his heels and marched from the room, MI6 agents stepping aside as he passed.

One of the agents stepped forward, his eyes dropping as he whispered to the Prime Minister, ‘Sir…I think it is time to vacate the capital for a more secure location…we have prepared several convoys to assist everyone in leaving the city…’

David Bland cocked his head to one side, staring up through the cockpit windows, his eyes skimming the bright stars above, ‘Where is this ship that is watching us then?’

The Trevakian pilot grimaced, ‘That’s the whole point of it being cloaked…we can’t see it!’ His eyes rolled, moving back to the console before him, ‘There are energy surges around us…so they must be scanning the craft now…’

David Bland stiffened, withdrawing back into his seat quickly, ‘Can they see us?’

The pilot shook his head, ‘Unlikely, I think they are scanning for life signs…it really depends who they are as to what they will do next…’

David grimaced, glancing nervously through the windows, ‘What is likely?’

The Trevakian grinned, ‘That really depends who they are. It is unlikely they are Morgon as they would probably have destroyed us by now…it might be a long distance freighter or supply ship, or it could be a ship from one of the local planets…we have very little detail on this system. We know there are planets capable of sustaining life, but have never ventured here. We were going to build up Zaxon B before exploring this galaxy, the invasion cut that short…’ He tapped the screen before him, several lights flashing with his touch, ‘With the ship crippled, let’s just hope they decide to rescue us now rather than when we run out of water or air…’

The airport manager nodded thoughtfully, ‘Can’t we contact them? Ask them for assistance?’

The pilot shrugged, ‘The fact they are cloaked would indicate they do not want to talk to us as yet…we can’t contact a vessel we have no coordinates for unless I send out a pulse signal. If I do that anyone could hear, including the Morgons or someone else who may wish us harm…it’s probably best we just ignore them until they decide to do something…’

David sighed, slumping back into his seat, ‘Is there any way to fix this ship? I mean, we will just head off into space until we hit something or drop dead otherwise…’

The Trevakian rose from his seat, ‘It is unlikely from inside. I have altered some of the craft’s technical priorities though, the remaining power usage will be minimised and the engine coolants are slowly converting into a drinkable alternative when the water runs out…it won’t taste very nice, but it should add a week, maybe two to our survival. There is some food in the overhead lockers, mostly emergency supplies, but also some containers…they are colour coded depending on the contents, blue…red and green.’ He looked down at David, ‘I will get them later…I need to see if I can generate power for the cells from our momentum…it can be done, but we might both die of old age before I work out how to…I am not a qualified engineer!’

The human’s eyes widened, ‘That’s good…well done…is there anything I can do?’

The pilot grinned, ‘I don’t know what you can do…what are you trained in?’

David thought for a second, his eyes sweeping across the stars, ‘Emergency procedures at an airport, customer service…’ His voice tailed off, ‘Before I worked at Heathrow, I ran a supermarket…at the airport I was head of evacuation response…’

The Trevakian pilot nodded, his head glancing back through the doorway into the rear cabin, ‘Ok…you are in charge of the food then, we need to ration it as much as possible…as for your other ‘
skills
’, I am not sure I want to evacuate…or that we will meet any
customers
…just gather all the food together and work out how many days we have on minimal rations.’ He shook his head in frustration, muttering as he stepped back into the rear compartment.

David slumped back in the co-pilots chair, shaking his head in irritation, his voice a whisper, ‘Bloody sarcastic allies!’ Closing his eyes briefly, he leant his head back, breathing deeply and feeling the stress begin to drift from his tense body. His mind wandered as the shuffling in the rear compartment started once more, the pilot adjusting several more of the controls that configured the ships engines.

Drifting back to the airport, he smiled to himself as he thought of some of his favourite staff, their individual issues and family challenges he had supported or attempted to assist with. He wondered what they were doing now, the airport perhaps having resumed commercial flights, the few missing staff temporarily forgotten as passengers quizzed the security officers of their recent visitation and what had occurred.

Then his mind drifted to the officers on the day, the innocent humour of choosing Riaz, Shino, Sam and Debra for uniform trials and what it had led to…he sighed, shaking his head in an attempt to minimise or remove the rising guilt that gripped his chest. His thoughts able to logically determine that he was not to blame, that fate had intervened…the uncomfortable twisting in his stomach advising his conscious thoughts that physically, his body was racked with guilt.

Slowly his eyes flickered open, his mind struggling to push the thoughts away. Then he was wide awake, his body stiffening as he stared wide-eyed out of the cockpit windows, the distant bright stars ahead seeming to shimmer and flicker, the darkness filled with static sparks and blurred movement.

David slowly rose from the seat, mesmerised by the sight as a distant light seemed to pulse, the green glow growing in intensity as it seemed to move towards him, his pupils contracting as the horizontal line of light filled the cockpit. The scan moving up and down and almost embracing his skin as he stared out in to the darkness, his voice trembling, ‘I-I think they might want to talk now…’ He gasped as the shimmering of black space filled the screen in front of him, the light increasing in ferocity and speed as it swept up and down.

David heard the pilots muffled grumbling, the Trevakian obviously not in the mood, ‘What is it now?’

The human cleared his throat nervously, his voice shaking as he stared into the light, ‘J-Just come here…there is something looking at us and I think it’s very big!’

He jolted in fright as the transport craft suddenly shuddered then slowed, a brief silence, then clattering behind as the pilot urgently scrambled towards the open doorway to the cockpit.