by Chris Troman
would tell my old man about his days in the First World War. And so he in turn, passed them on to me. When the story was told for the umpteenth time, it stuck in my mind like a tribal history. My father in turn had his own adventures, which he related endlessly much to my education.
Being born in 1928 he was a young man at the end of the Second World War, and so consequentially got drafted in to the R.A.F. Not as anything as glamorous as a pilot. The basic training to his memory consisted of feeding time. When the raw recruits were presented with a grey slop. It was far from the meagre, but lovingly prepared food of home. Which brought to his mind the original version of The Four Feathers, where the prisoners are forced to feel like pigs from a trough. His first real look at the enemy was as a prison guard. Where sorry looking Germans brought to this foreign land, were put to useful work.
On this particular day they were to load an open backed truck with furniture, for delivery to another part of the camp. Leaving them to the relatively simple task, he returned later to look up at the teetering pile of chairs stacked up in to the sky. To his dieing day he never knew whether given no command to stop, they were simply obeying orders. Or even in defeat, kept a sense of humour in their hearts.
Apes Mix The Best Drinks
General Draconix of the Kesdonic Empire relaxed, as he sat in his command chair. The fleet had left hyperspace, just beyond the ninth planet of the system. He slowly turned to his second in command, a tough looking blue lizard. He was scarred from many a campaign, in the Horsehead Nebula. “I will require a minimum size team for this mission”, he drawled. “I don’t want to attract attention.” Captain Trisk flicked his tongue in salute and intoned back. “Alpha squad is in top shape, I picked them myself sir.” And he snapped to attention. The general smiled and waved him away. This was going to be a good mission; he felt it in his bones.
Down in the hanger, Alpha squad was readying the Zeemax class assault ship. It was the fastest attack craft the empire could muster. Sergeant Velix was just loading extra charges for the pulse rifles, when tech specialist Mondo rounded on him. “Why all the secrecy sergeant? It’s not a usual tactic we employ, just blast in and take the planet. That’s what I’m used to.” The sergeant had served under the general before, and he considered his response. “Well it's like this. Some missions need a soft approach, in case the enemy has secret defences.”
Just then the general stomped down the ramp, and they flew to attention. “Sergeant, get the troops assembled I want a word.” With a salute, Velix barked the order. And the four other warriors flew into line next to him. Draconix beamed at these fine troops. “Now lads this is top secret, only you and the original survey team are privy to this planet's resources.” He turned to Mondo. “As Tec specialist, I want you’re to check all the broadcast interrupters. To make sure none of their signals seep out into civilised space.” The specialist saluted in response, and the General moved on.
“Velix good chap, when we land I want a well hidden spot. The locals must not suspect a thing.” “Yes sir, I have maps of the target area, and have picked a spot. No local could find our craft, yet it's close enough for penetration of the target.” The general nodded, and turned to the other three troops. “You will be my personal escort while I infiltrate the locals, and ascertain vital information. I need not tell you of the need for constant vigilance, and utmost discretion. The locals must not get any inkling of who we are, or what we are doing.” He stared at each in turn.
“All cleared for launch”, came the radio crackle. And sergeant Velix punched the sequence of buttons, sending the sleek craft out through the force field. The field kept the life-supporting atmosphere in the launch area, away from the cold dead vacuum of space. Free from the battle fleet, Tec specialist Mondo started his checks on the vast array of jammers. They were always deployed around newfound civilisations, partly to stop them knowing about civilised space. But more importantly it was to hide this precious gem in the sea of space, from other spacefaring powers.
No empire had the resources to keep any, but the most precious planet. With size of the universe, an enemy could strike and plunder a far off world, with no reprisal for weeks. So any power wanting to keep together did just that. Holding most of its strength in the home system. Battle fleets just bought resource’s back, leaving the defeated planet ready for the next wave in the distant future. New civilisations, although plentiful in such a vast ocean space had to offer. Could soon be stripped back to basics, ready to start anew.
The usual method for trawling for these treasures; was when they started broadcasting their presence. They just couldn’t help it. After the rise of the first empires of the universe no world was safe. All were prey to their predecessors. Of course some planets were found by chance. The one general Draconix was now heading towards; had first been found with great big lizard like beasts. They went to feed the home world of Spirax for some time, but then some darn meteor wiped them out. And so left on the star map for future recon, it was abandoned. Then about fifty years ago a survey team passing through on regular recon picked up the signals. And as per protocol they cast the net, to shield their new prize from other prying ears.
“All working commander.” The Tech flicked his tongue in a model of efficacy. The general displayed a full set of razor sharp teeth as he grinned. “Good good, I don’t want those filthy Spindleywicks getting wind of this.” He turned to the sergeant. “Now Velix, let's get down to planet Z3. Quick as you can before their primitive sensors see us.” The sergeant obeyed, and the sleek craft shot forward like a dart. Not that any sub species could invent sensors; to penetrate the anti detection measures installed on the prize of the fleet.
Past gas giants and in to the more stable zone of any system the craft tore. Slowing only when it reached it’s goal, and began a steady orbit of their prey. As the autopilot kept them free from local traffic, and Tec specialist Mondo idly monitored the ship's course. Sergeant Velix filled in the three troops on the landing, and infiltration of the local population. “So last time we went in, I touched down in the country. The team had to hike some way to get useful information. But lucky for you, we found out the local population have air vehicles. Not space travel though; they keep strictly in the atmosphere. And primitives as they are, the efficiency of such craft makes them very noisy. Even when heard from the ground."
He took out a holo-map of a city."It's so easy, it boggles the mind how these monkeys haven't been invaded sooner." The map showed their craft descending onto the top of a tall building. But then Velix adjusted a control, and up it went again in back ward trajectory. He twiddled another control, and the troops saw the bottom of the ship expand. It showed a projection of a rotating blade over a smaller craft, clearly intended to keep it up by pushing air down. Accompanied by this they now heard a loud repetitive beat; in sync with the blades. The sergeant had to raise his voice. "If any natives happen to look up, they will think it's one of their own craft. Neat hey?" the others nodded. He scaled the map and volume down again.
"After landing myself and Tech Mondo will secure the area, and cloak the ship so it looks like the building top. While you escort the general down. Now ordinarily you would keep out of sight in case a native spots us. But another peculiarity of the locals; is that at certain times of year they dress up. Go in disguise as it were, and the more different they look the better. They call it fancy dress. This will be key to our infiltration technique, as you can just walk about as normal. And the locals’ think you are in a costume."
Just then general Draconix stepped out of his personal quarters, with a case in his hand. "And these will complete your disguise." He opened it up revealing three projectile weapons. "They are replicas of the native armaments, but capable of plasma blasts. Just like our assault rifles." The sergeant looked mildly surprised at this addition to the plan. Which brought a smile from the general. "Just something I got our tech boys to knock up, last minute idea."
"Over target and ready for decent under night cover", crackled T
ec specialist Mondo's voice over the intercom. And like a well-oiled machine the company strapped in for the drop. Down the craft plummeted to half a mile above the surface. Then the full radar cloak swapped to the new disguise of a local air, vehicle and it slowed to match it's expected decent.
The small square expanded as they approached it, until a soft thud told them they were down. "Right sergeant check the lapel cameras”, barked the general. And sergeant Velix gave an affirmative nod, as he swiveled his chair to see a bank of screens displaying the inside of the craft. Each was overlaid with a heart rate monitor and their name.
The four dark figures soon passed through a service door, and descended into a deserted corridor. "Now keep me in sight while I mix with top level locals, and get vital defense details. If there is any sign of trouble. I want to be out of there as smoothly as possible. Now conceal those weapon for the present." The General turned and opened a door.
Suddenly there was a roar of noise, a mixture of lively music and babble. Universal translators assured them of the benign content, and they pushed their way in. It was like a convention of nine
