Planet Genocide I (Galaxies Collide Book 3) (7 page)

The downtown Tsukiji fish market had been open for over an hour, the small trucks buzzing back and forth from the auction halls as they deposited the numerous fish stocks for sale. Situated near the edge of Tokyo Bay at the entrance to the Sumida River, the market was the largest in the world.

The resilient Japanese fish mongers and auctioneers were of a respected profession, their knowledge of the finest fish and negotiating skills renowned across the industry as some of the finest fish were traded daily. Slicing the speciality sushi fish in bulk for restaurants and local cafes, many tourists were permitted to visit the vast market in the later hours to witness and sample the exclusive dishes fresh from the auction halls.

This morning was like no other, the auctioneers barking the bids for specific fish stocks, the prospective customers able to sample small cuts provided by the knife wielding professionals, their specialist tools some of the sharpest and most desired in the industry.

On the opposite sea wall of a side waterway, Naomitsu Kanaya stared out longingly over the water, the slim sixteen-year-old keen to follow in his father’s footsteps and pursue a career in the fish market. Every day, he would rise early and come to the waterfront to watch the small boats unload their catches, many speeding in from the industrial sized trawlers out in the Sea of Japan to deposit large and exclusive catches for auction in the heavily populated halls.

This day had been different, with only a few small boats, the teenager considering that they perhaps were delivering somewhere else, that maybe a new dock had been opened without his knowledge. He had watched, braced against the cold as silhouetted figures had stood on the quay opposite, the lights from the halls and preparation areas sparkling across the waves distracting him from the distant concern on the auctioneers faces.

The market supervisors had decided to continue with a smaller auction, utilising the large catches from the previous day to fill the halls and advising the many customers that the freshest catch was yet to come, that storms at sea having delayed most of the daily delivery.

A quiet and studious boy, Nao made friends with difficulty, his shy and reserved nature proving difficult to penetrate by his schoolmates as he dreamed in class of the market and the intoxicating bustle. On selected days his father would allow him to accompany him to work, seeking permission from the school that had long given up on persuading him of a different future, the sympathetic schoolmaster permitting the visits, albeit receiving in return a complimentary feast each week of the finest offcuts.

The boy was frustrated this day, knowing the sea breeze would prevent him from hearing much of the auctioneers shouting and calling, his heavy jacket pulled up round his ears as he shivered. Perhaps this morning was one to spend with his mother before going to school, assisting her in the kitchen in the preparation of breakfast, his stomach rumbling for the Miso soup and grilled fish he loved so much.

He stared longingly one last time across the water, hearing it lap against the sea walls as he reluctantly turned slowly from his vantage point, walking slowly towards the bicycle propped against the railings further to his left.

Nao glanced back one more time, stepping forward in curiosity as he saw the ripples through the dark water, the waves breaking as the sea sounds changed, a faint clicking and grinding coming from the darkness. He strained his eyes as figures seemed to climb from the water opposite, the first silhouettes dropping to a crouch in seeming caution as more and more bodies clambered from the darkness.

Then he sucked the cold air in, the figures seeming to brandish weapons and blades as the loading bay opposite filled with black muscular frames. He stepped forward in suspicion, staring down into the water as shapes swept past through the waves, numerous objects breaking the surface as they seemed to continue past the market and towards the exclusive riverside areas further along the river.

Wiping his eyes, he felt his heart rate rising as a distant shriek filled the air, the black figures opposite pouring into the auction halls as screams of fear echoed across the water. His hands shaking, he ran to his bike, running alongside and jumping onto it as he began to peddle hard, the front wheel shaking as his adrenalin soared, his eyes seeing the black figures mount the grey sea walls in the distance as he turned away from the river, heading for home as fast as he could.

Admiral Karladen stood before the communications screens on the command deck of the Skorpion Class Battle Cruiser, First Officer Petaski indicating to the controller before them as the commander nodded, ‘Make the link to Chergui…but keep it brief, the enemy may be monitoring any signals.’

The female communications officer ran her fingers across the console before her, the screens above flickering briefly before expanding into full picture, a smiling Vice-Admiral Chergui straightening his uniform before turning to camera and saluting, ‘Admiral Karladen, a pleasure to see you back at your ship…how may I assist Sir?’ The blue uniformed figures behind him were sat at their screens, several checking readings and reports spilling up on their displays.

Karladen stiffened, his expression becoming darker, ‘What sensor reading have you from outer space…is there anything unusual?’

Chergui’s eyes glinted in the dim blue light of his bridge, ‘Very little Sir…all is quiet. We intercepted an old weak communication some time ago and are deciphering it now…it seems it may have been some sort of older Morgon code…unlikely to have much relevance to our current situation I believe.’ He glanced round at his crew, ‘We consider it’s possibly a stray directional communication, maybe even sent some time ago as the code is very old, potentially over twenty human years out of date.’

The Admiral placed his hands on his hips, ‘How long before you break it?’ He turned to Petaski, ‘Did we receive it?’

Petaski nodded, spinning round as his voice rose, ‘Who had the communication…have we broken the code yet?’

An intelligence officer rose abruptly to her feet, her face flushing, ‘Yes Sir…it was an old activation code…one they used to send to outer or remote units to prepare them for attack.’ She looked down at her screen, eyes narrowing, ‘There is a timer encrypted in the code, but we are unable to break that as yet…it has probably expired some time ago if what the Vice-Admiral believes is correct.’

Admiral Karladen spun round, his eyes glaring across the deck as his face became crimson with anger again, ‘Break it down! We need to know if they are here!’ He spun back to the monitors, ‘Why was I not made aware of this?’

The communications officer before them raised her hand slightly, ‘Sir…we have an incoming broadcast from the Russian Premiere…we have secured a fixed covert link with them in the last few hours. We are attempting to establish a similar link with the Americans and Chinese…’

Karladen leant forward, his voice harsh with impatience, ‘Put them through…open the link now!’

The comms officer flicked her hand across the console, another screen widening and breaking into picture, the Russian Premiere sat with two of his advisors, their shirt collars open and faces visibly tired. The Russian leader forced a smile as he recognised the Trevakian Admiral, ‘Good Morning Admiral Karladen, greetings from Russia…we have an urgent communication for you.’

The Admiral’s eyes narrowed, ‘Good Morning gentlemen, how may we assist you?’

The Russian continued, ‘We have lost communication with many of our fleets at sea and satellites. I am also receiving unconfirmed reports of sporadic fighting in St Petersburg near our naval base…do you have any information for us please…we cannot contact our satellites? Are you still in contact with your ships above earth?’

Admiral Karladen nodded, ‘I am communicating with them now Sir.’ He glanced at the other screen, ‘Chergui…I want a full sensor check of the St Petersburg area and quickly. Follow that with sensor reports on the other Russian naval bases and come back to me…quickly!’

Chergui stiffened, his fist slapping his chest, ‘Yes Sir…Chergui out!’

The screen went blank, the Admiral turning back to the Russian Premiere, ‘We will run full checks and report back as soon as they are completed Sir. Our vessels have been scanning deep space until now, but it should not take long.’

The Russian Premiere nodded approvingly, ‘Thank you…we are sending out long range reconnaissance aircraft to search for our ships, but we are experiencing jamming and this is taking longer than expected.’ His expression became grave, ‘I am moving extra forces to our naval bases in response to any threat…we are deeply concerned for our missing vessels, many with nuclear capability.’ He leant forward towards the screen, his eyes narrowing in curiosity as the screen flickered, ‘May I ask…what do you think is occurring?’

Admiral Karladen sighed, ‘I am unable to come to a conclusion at present Sir, but with events seeming to escalate, I would advise your forces to be placed on full alert at all military bases…have all your combat aircraft at a high state of readiness and pursue aggressive reconnaissance.’ He hesitated, ‘Is there any word from the Chinese Sir?’

The Russian Premiere smiled knowingly, ‘Ah yes…our silent neighbour. We believe they are already at a heightened state of readiness, but I will communicate with them and advise of your concerns.’ He leant back resting his hands on the desk, ‘When may we expect your ‘transporter’ to reopen? I am keen to send more soldiers through to learn from your battles in the stars above…there are four more of our units awaiting this in Britain at present I believe.’ He hesitated, then continued, ‘Manufacturing of some of your weapons has already commenced at some of our factories Admiral and we expect this to increase in the coming weeks. The Russian people are proud to stand with the Trevakians at this hour of both our seeming needs and I am mobilising more reserve divisions in preparation for the battle for our…and your survival.’

Admiral Karladen nodded, his lips pursing in amusement, ‘Thank you Sir…we will reopen the portal as soon as possible. The battle on Zaxon B will be continuing at present and will be in a precarious, if not decisive stage…but we are ready to power up once we sense the activation on the other side.’ He forced a diplomatic smile, ‘It is our privilege and honour to have such a warm and considerate ally in earth.’

The Russian Premiere chuckled in defeat, strumming his fingers briefly on the desk top, ‘Admiral…you seem a worthy diplomat, I am eager to meet you in person one day to discuss our cultures and peoples…I hope that day will be soon. I will now gain an update on our situation and converse with you later…’

The screen darkened as the line was cut by the Kremlin, the Admiral turning to Petaski sternly, ‘We must presume they are here…place more sensors around our extended perimeter and double the guard. Alert all the commanders of the international forces camped in the park around us that we expect the portal to be opened soon and to keep their soldiers ready…do not tell them what we fear…if the Morgons are here, we will also need as many reinforcements for Zaxon B as possible.’ He leant forward, his voice more subdued to his subordinate, ‘Let us hope our human allies keep their word and send their troops through…’ The commander sighed, ‘If only we could get word to fleet…get them to help us in some way.’ He shook his head, ‘Our forces are stretched beyond recovery now…I desperately need to communicate with the high command…find me a way to do it covertly!’

Petaski nodded obediently, his voice strained, ‘Perhaps we are entering the final stages of the war Sir…and I fear it will only get far worse now.’

Admiral Karladen grimaced, ‘I hope you are wrong…because if you are right, we have inadvertently exterminated this race before they had a chance…we should have made contact many years ago…’

The comms officer turned her head, ‘Sir…the British government headquarters are requesting a link…’

The Admiral’s eyes rose, ‘Interesting…they just left…put them on screen please…’

The comms officer swept her hand across the darkened console, the screen above flickering then expanding once more, a flustered Deputy Prime Minister standing before his own screen flanked by bodyguards, his eyes blinking as he saw the two Trevakian senior officers looking at him, ‘G-Gentlemen, I was hoping the Prime Minister was with you…virtually all our communications are down or blocked…as you know we are in an emergency coalition government now…have you any news of his whereabouts?’

The Admiral smiled briefly, ‘The Prime Minister is on his way back to you…I should be following shortly…have you any update for us please Deputy Prime Minister?’

The man stared back, his rising excitement clear, ‘The Prime Minister has advised me to keep you fully informed…’ He coughed nervously, glancing round, ‘How secure is this link?’

First Officer Petaski waved his hand, ‘Very secure…we have increased the security over the last few days…please continue Sir.’

The man nodded with increasing nervousness, leaning forward to read from the report on the desktop in front of him, ‘The Americans have been in brief contact through the transatlantic cable…they are virtually in complete communication blackout. The President is being moved to a secure location at present.’ The Deputy Prime Minister looked up and coughed again, his throat dry, ‘In the President’s temporary absence, the Homeland Security Council has advised of ‘incursions’ on its borders. In as such, there are unconfirmed reports of ‘skirmishes’ with enemy forces currently unknown in Miami and Seattle. Los Angeles and San Diego are on full military alert and shutdown with reports of limited or no contact with US Naval forces. The National Guard and all remaining reserves have now been called up and the President has moved the country’s state of readiness to DefCon One.’

The Deputy Prime Minister stood back, nervous sweat beginning to run down the side of his face, ‘We are considering moving our own government from Whitehall at present and this will be decided when the Prime Minister returns…have you any information for us?’ He shook his head, ‘For example, why is their jamming of our signals so effective? They can almost wipe out all communications…’

Admiral Karladen smiled grimly, ‘That would be a question for First Officer Petaski, we have completed considerable work on this…’ He indicated to his subordinate, the Sky Commander shifting uncomfortably.

‘The Morgon jamming is caused by a number of factors…their technology in this field has always been superior…able to adjust as we ourselves seek ways to override or by-pass their counter measures.’ The first officer adjusted his collar nervously, ‘We tried for a number of years to overcome it and eventually adopted a tactic of limiting its effect…there are ways to overcome the obstructions in small ways as we have done here, but if we increase this, they will discover us and yet another method will be blocked. Their systems seem self-aware, adapting as we change techniques, so we act in slight covert ways that seem to go un-noticed.’ He sighed in defeat, ‘Our weaponry is specific to the user usually, which prevents interference from their powerful equivalent to your Electro Magnetic Pulse which was devastating when we first experienced it. We developed short range technology that they cannot interrupt…’ He glanced at the Admiral, seeing him indicate for the officer to continue, ‘The Morgons can disrupt communications from long distance, either by small beacon or wave technology…both will probably be being used here and we are unlikely to establish a source.’

Sky Commander Petaski looked directly at the screen defiantly, his voice rising, ‘However, your earth weaponry may also prove troublesome against the Morgons in a war…it is too technologically advanced for you to ensure its reliability against their countermeasures…disruptive waves that may render some electronic equipment unreliable to you…troops simply abandoning it on the field.’ He stared directly at the Deputy Prime Minister, ‘The Morgons learnt very early on that you do not need to destroy an armies’ weapons to defeat it…just spread slaughter, panic and terror amongst your enemy…sow the seeds of doubt…and the weapons will stop firing.’

The Englishman stood before his screen open mouthed, his head shaking slightly in disbelief as Admiral Karladen stepped forward, his face slightly flushed with embarrassment as he moved before his subordinate, ‘My apologies Sir, my people are very frustrated and angered by the enemies vicious and merciless tactics…it has been a time of great attrition for us and the knowledge that we may be losing is sapping our resolve…the thoughts for the future may be dark, but we will prevail against this adversary…’ He smiled reassuringly, ‘I think that is what one of your generals said in history…anyway, where were we?’ The commander shook his head to clear his thoughts, ‘I have ordered full scans of Russian Naval bases from our ships above and will do the same for these locations you have just mentioned…’ He hesitated, seeing a piece of paper handed to the Deputy Prime Minister, the man reading it slowly, his eyes widening further. The commander stepped forward, seeing the man look away desperately, then back down at the page, the Admiral’s voice becoming firm, ‘What is it Sir?’

The Deputy Prime Minister looked up cautiously, glancing round, ‘The latest report from America…’ His eyes filled with emotion, Homeland Security reports fighting on the streets of downtown Brooklyn, New York and suburbs of Baltimore. Enemy fighters are engaging their aircraft over home soil and flying bombing missions…’ He glanced back down at the page solemnly, ‘…Large numbers of enemy infantry, apparently in black armour with advanced weaponry are engaging US troops and reservists in heavy street fighting…the US are preparing to deploy tanks and marines on the streets of New York!’