Planet Genocide I (Galaxies Collide Book 3), page 2
Vice Admiral Chergui
A Trevakian Battleship commander with the Seventh Fleet, his ship and escorts were diverted on their way to relieve Zaxon B to attend a distress beacon placed on earth at Admiral Karladen’s order. Uncloaking and successfully engaging the Morgon vessel in orbit above the planet, Chergui has now been instructed to provide whatever defence he can against any hostile action, with earth’s fighter forces now weakened considerably.
Dryden
Aboard the Trevakian Skorpion Class Battle Cruiser when it landed on earth, Dryden was placed in charge of showing the first few earth visitors around the vessel for public relation reasons. Innocently causing the misunderstandings with uniforms, he is still aboard the ship currently cloaked in Osterley Park in West London. The Trevakian is currently assisting with the many severely wounded that have ventured for safety through the transporter connected to the space station above Zaxon B, stranded on earth due to military action.
Sky Commander (First Officer) Petaski
Placed in charge of the Trevakian Skorpion Class Battle Cruiser after the departure of Admiral Karladen to negotiate with the UK Government and world leaders, the young officer has played host to a senior airport manager, army major and the Heathrow Duty Police Chief Inspector. Moving the vessel to Osterley Park for safety, Petaski has remained in contact with Admiral Karladen covertly and without human knowledge, attempting to maintain a public relations front with the accompanying managers.
Character Overview: Pastarian System
Duty Manager David Bland
The Duty Manager in charge of Terminal 3 on the day of the Trevakian landing, David Bland is a manager that cares for his staff and was appalled when he learnt that three security officers and a supervisor had mistakenly been sent to the planet’s surface. Attempting to retrieve these staff members safely against instructions, the drop ship he commandeered was chased by Morgon fighters, becoming deliberately crippled by the enemy and causing it continue to fly into deep space. David and the pilot have now passed into the next galaxy, the Pastarian System and in the confusion of war will likely be pronounced MIA.
Introduction: From the Depths
Sonar Technician Officer Jon McInnen glanced across the radar and sonar screens in the bridge of the USS John Warner, the Virginia Class nuclear submarine. Five days out of Pearl Harbour-Hickam naval base, the patrol had been anything but eventful, the US Navy cautiously deploying all its ships to sea after the attack from enemy craft several days earlier.
The Pacific Ocean was relatively quiet, the few fishing vessels that had been brave enough to venture into the vast expanse of sea had fished well, their holds full as they now sailed at full speed back towards Hawaii and the surrounding islands.
Checking the headings of the many small vessels, the Sonar Officer grinned as he noticed the other large US Virginia class submarine on his sloped screen, the underwater vessel following an identical course to the north west across the massive ocean. Radio and even e-mail contact was maintained with the Japanese and Chinese ships far further to the west, previous squabbles and disagreements now pushed onto the ‘back burner’ as the threat to earth superseded national disagreements.
He jumped, startled as the watch commander slapped his shoulder playfully, depositing a coffee on the edge of his workstation, a smile on his superior’s face, ‘So what have you got…anything?’ The officer had relaxed his usual formalities, allowing the men under his command to become more informal, the long hours of high alert taxing their nerves and adrenalin. He smiled briefly, seeing the sailors crumpled and marked uniform, the alertness levels taxing the crew with long shifts, the men doubled up on observation duties thus reducing any downtime.
Jon glanced upwards, rubbing his eyes with tiredness, his short black hair glistening in sweat from the humid atmosphere on the command deck. He nodded, indicating to the screen, ‘Nothing spectacular Sir…mostly fishing vessels and a few cargoes…the world keeps turning, and money has to be made for survival…’
First officer Shohara grinned thoughtfully, his eyes sparkling as McInnen swigged greedily on the hot liquid, ‘All quiet on the western front then Jon…’ The Polynesian commander’s brown eyes flashed as he leant forward, studying the screen, his light grey uniform still neatly pressed if damp with perspiration from the nine hours of a twelve-hour shift. Pointing at the dots glimmering as the thin light pulsed across them he indicated to a larger one, ‘Heavy cargo?’
Jon nodded in acknowledgement, ‘Yes Sir, a South Korean transport heading for San Diego…probably loaded with electronics and equipment for the navy there…I can check the signals and manifest with Hawaii if you wish?’
Shohara shook his head, ‘No need…’ He pointed to the small single aircraft heading across the screen to the north of them, ‘…they will have completed the checks and will go for a visual…’ His voice trailed off as an excited voice spread across the deck, his head spinning round.
The Operations Specialist officer at the other side of the small command deck looked up, her eyes widening, ‘Movement in the water Sir! We have no signal, but there is considerable disturbance…’
Shohara straightened up, stiffening as his eyes narrowed, ‘Dolphins or whales?’ He glanced across at the ensign as the woman shrugged, his voice rising, ‘Light us up…let’s see what is out there!’
The female junior officer stared frantically at the equipment before her, her eyes darting across the screens, ‘Cameras are blind Sir! We have nothing!’
The first officer stared around him, the adrenalin pouring through his frame, his tone strained, ‘Go to full alert! Comms to Hawaii immediately as per protocol…there is something…’
A loud metallic clank against the hull, the officer glancing round cautiously as Shohara’s eyes looked upwards. The female ensign’s voice shaking, ‘Distress call from the USS Illinois…comms seem to be breaking down Sir…what…’
All the screens suddenly went blank, McInnen rising from his workstation in rising alarm and concern, ‘Sir, we are blinded…all our systems are jammed! The enemy must be near…we are under attack!’
Shohara glanced round in alarm as more clanks hit the hull, his voice exasperated, ‘What enemy…these aliens? Where the hell have they come from?’ He lunged forward, slamming his fist on the alarm button, the shrill sound of a shrieking pulse filling the submarine as crew members desperately struggled from sleep, jumping and stumbling from their bunks.
McInnen reached for his holstered pistol, the pulses of adrenalin surging up his spine as muffled thumps echoed around them. Inhuman shrieks filling the submarine, the distant screams of the crew surging through the narrow passageways…then broken gunfire, the shouted words caught in his throat as his voice rose to shrill scream, ‘How? They are now inside!’
The dawn light streamed through the long high windows, the four assembled senior officers blinking against the glare as the middle aged man behind the desk clicked a key on the laptop before him, his voice firm as his frustration rose, ‘It seems the network is slow again…the screen is stuck…again.’ He grimaced, leaning back in his chair, ‘So gentlemen, we have a conference call in thirty minutes with the British Prime Minister and Russian Premier, is there anything else to add?’
The Chief of Defence shook his head, ‘No Sir…we have full patrols out in all coastal waters and the fleets report earlier this morning have revealed no suspicious movements. Satellite images show no cause for concern and we are following up on the many ‘strange’ sightings that have been reported…’ He smiled confidently, ‘Probably the usual ‘nuts’ and ‘white extremists’ hoping for publicity…’ Four mobile phones started to ring then cut off simultaneously, the figures startled in response, raising their devices to stare at them in exasperation.
The main, highly polished white double doors burst open, several suited figures sweeping into the room, four lunging to either side of the wide desk as an exhausted intelligence officer stepped behind, his eyes wide with shock, ‘My apologies, Mr President…’ Glancing in embarrassment at the staring senior officers, he bowed his head in subordination, gasping heavily, ‘I have to report…we have lost contact with the Pacific and Atlantic fleets…there is no radio or electronic traffic, the oceans are in complete communication darkness now.’ The uniformed officer dropped to his knees on the deep pile carpet, staring in disbelief at the seal of the President of the United States emblazoned across its surface as he sighed deeply, ‘We believe the enemy is still here Sir…and now could be virtually on our coastline!’
The middle aged immaculately suited man stiffened, glancing round in disbelief and near terror for the future, ‘Wh…?’
The muscled suited man next to him grabbed his arm forcefully, raising his finger to his earpiece, then dropping his hand despondently, ‘Mr President…we need to move from the Whitehouse now! We are taking you to a secure location…we have no idea where the enemy is! Full jamming of all our communications has just commenced!’
The President of the United States turned as he was forced to his feet, his expression defiant and voice rising as the security personnel dragged him from the room, ‘All military on full alert, call up all remaining National Guard…we are moving from Defcon Four to Defcon One with immediate effect! Get me communication with the British through the Atlantic cable…I want to know anything and everything that’s happening!’
Chapter One: Awakening of the Human Race
At the Westfield Horton Plaza Shopping Mall in downtown San Diego, Emily Marshall glared at the cash out teller, her voice low to avoid the two children in her care overhearing, ‘What do you mean the card is declined? This is a joint account…my husband is abroad on business…’
The young male Polynesian sales assistant raised his hand, ‘I am sorry Ma’am, but the credit card company seems to have declined your transaction, have you any other payment method available?’ He indicated to the take away pizza boxes, ‘You will need to pay for these now as we have cooked them for you…’ The late-morning sun streamed through the windows of the front of the mall, the children looking forward to an afternoon film at their mother’s sister’s apartment.
Emily glanced around, the middle aged lady behind glaring at her and folding her arms in frustration, the children moving to chat intently to some other youngsters just outside the Pizzeria’s polished doors. Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head in exasperation and embarrassment, reaching into her bag for her black purse as she searched for some money, her cheeks flushing bright scarlet, ‘I-I am sorry…he has been away for some time due to the troubles, he must have forgotten to transfer the money…’ Nausea filled her stomach, her shoulders shaking as the thoughts of the recent funeral filled her mind as she glanced back cautiously at the eight and ten year olds once more, her sister’s children spending the weekend with her.
The assistant raised his eyes in impatience, lowering his palm onto the top on the warm cardboard square boxes and slowly drawing them across the counter towards him, ‘No money…no pizza Ma’am, I am sorry…’
Emily swept a strand of blonde hair from her face, tears beginning to run down her cheeks as she fumbled in her bag, searching for the dollars she knew did not exist. The stern female voice from behind startled her, her hand shaking as the handbag dropped to the floor, ‘That’s ok lady…I will get these…’
Emily spun round, the middle aged woman lowering her hands from her chest and smiling briefly as she stepped forward, her hand rising to the young woman’s face, a brief whisper, ‘What happened…don’t cry now…the children will see.’ The lady thrust two notes into her shaking hands, Emily turning in confusion as the lady rubbed her back reassuringly, the assistant smiling as he took the money from her trembling fingers. The middle aged lady behind leant forward, retrieving the handbag and shopping bags from the black polished tiles, ‘I am Katherine…let’s get your Pizzas and children and we will get you to your car…’
She patted Emily’s arm comfortingly as she turned, the change lying on the top of the warm boxes as the assistant beckoned the next patron forward. He nodded a disinterested farewell, ‘Have a nice day ladies…’
The glass and silver doors to the Pizzeria swung open, Katherine beckoning Emily outside as the children turned to stare at her, their faces lighting up as they saw the pizza boxes. Emily stepped forward forcing a smile, ‘Did you not want some Pizza?’
The middle aged lady smiled warmly in reassurance, ‘Let’s get you to your car first…or would you like a coffee, calm yourself down then tell me all about it is you wish…’ Her voice tailed off as the children two young children looked up at her, her expression turning to a warm smile, ‘They are very sweet…’ Shoppers walked past, most chatting excitedly as they entered the mall, their anticipation rising of the bargains in the numerous sales. Katherine smirked as the small girl pointed to her with small fingers, a wide welcoming smile spreading across the youngster’s face. Then she froze, her eyes opening wide as the distant rumble swept across the area, a low murmur of a siren beginning the rise as Katherine grabbed Emily’s arm, the adults in the mall beginning to look round frantically as the now numerous sirens increased in ferocity, beginning to scream out across the city.
0925hrs: Hawaii:
A late breakfast at the exclusive Hilton Hawaiian Village hotel followed by a day long tour of the island. The Jacobs family from Sheffield, England had embarked on the holiday of a lifetime after the National Lottery win three weeks earlier. Flying first class with United Airlines to Los Angeles and then onto the ‘The Aloha State’ or ‘Paradise in the Pacific’ had been something Brian Jacobs had always talked about, advising his long suffering wife of thirteen years that ‘one day’ the numbers would ‘come up’ and that Hawaii was the only place he wanted to take her and their two children to celebrate.
At thirty-eight years old, she had always agreed, wanting the quiet life…a normal existence for them and their children. She had never imagined in her wildest dreams the jackpot would be theirs…his determination to go out in the most miserable of weather to buy their tickets had always made her smile, he was a dreamer and needed that outlet…the thought he may ‘one day’ make their lives better. He had been eventually proven correct, £6.47 million pounds correct to be precise.
Brian was a loyal and hardworking husband, a steelworker and good at it. He worked long hours at Firth Browns, a steel and silver makers in the city that had once been home to the biggest metal manufacturers in the world. Luxury cutlery and trinkets were now the product of choice, sought by the richest patrons around the globe and sold in the most exclusive retail outlets. Always ready to volunteer for overtime or to prove his loyalty, Brian had even cycled to work to save for family expenditure, much to his plump wife’s dismay with the heavy city traffic.
The lived in a suburb of the city, Millhouses, near a large park. The lines of semi-detached houses would have normally been far beyond their income, but for a financial wedding gift from her father, Brian immediately insisting they used it as a deposit on a house for a family.
She smiled fondly to herself as she watched him cut the rashers of bacon for their son, the sight of her husband’s greying hair and stubble warming her heart as she considered his fondness and love for them…he was a good man. She sliced her eggs with her fork, carefully lifting them to her mouth as she watched him encourage their six-year-old boy to go to the lavish buffet on his own, to get more bacon and eggs for the family.
The young child was sensitive and dyslexic and Brian doted on him, taking him to the park at the bottom of their road every day if he could, playing football with him and even taking him to see Sheffield United, his more favoured team of the two in the city, based at Bramall Lane Football Stadium.
The daughter was more studious and quiet, her mother watching her as she picked at her food, slicing specialist sausages and sniffing them carefully before placing them in her mouth, Brain smiling across the table at his wife as they watched their female offspring’s ‘quirky’, yet uniquely autistic behaviours.
Then he raised his hand, pointing out the shaded windows of the hotel restaurant and into the sun drenched street beyond, nudging his daughter, ‘Look Bianca, doggies with a walker…’
The nine-year-old spun round with excitement, pressing her freckled nose to the glass and staring out into the sunlight as she smiled, seeing the five dogs with the slim female walker, the two pedigree poodles, two Jack Russells and a Pug strutting obediently with the hired help, the owners now at their office desks from their homes in the exclusive neighbourhood.
Brian glanced across lovingly at his wife, chewing on a bacon rasher, ‘When the flights eventually start again and we get back to Britain, shall we move out towards the villages and get some land, several dogs and maybe a goat for the children? What do you say Moira?’
The woman grinned happily, glancing down at her eggs again as emotion filled her chest, ‘Sure…let’s get somewhere nice for the children…a house with a big garden.’ She sniffed happily, ‘Shall we get tutors for them…it would stop the teasing at school?’
Her husband nodded in agreement, the two staring fondly into each other’s eyes for a couple of seconds before they were distracted, the boy returning triumphantly with a large platter full of eggs, bacon, mushrooms, hash browns and a variety of sausages. They smiled as their son grinned widely with confidence, meticulously placing the plate on the edge of the table as he murmured, ‘The chef says I am his favourite customer…’ He shrugged with misunderstanding, ‘He says daddy and mummy have hunger…rest of hotel people have silly diets!’
Bianca turned slowly from the window, staring at the new plate with relish but distrust, her voice low, ‘Doggies gone now…’ She slowly reached for her fork again, beginning to study the sausages on her plate once more.
