The Origin of F.O.R.C.E.

by Sam B Miller II

  The Origin of F.O.R.C.E.

  The Federal Organization for Response to Celestial Enemies

  Copyright 2015 by Sam B. Miller II

  All Rights Reserved

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of the ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of Sam B. Miller II. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 - Roswell, New Mexico

  Chapter 2 - Disclosure

  Chapter 3 - What To Do

  Chapter 4 - Tibet

  Chapter 5 - Hot Dog

  Chapter 6 - Voodoo

  Chapter 7 - The Power Module

  Chapter 8 - Wiesbaden

  Chapter 9 - The Zealots

  Chapter 10 - Pool Party

  Chapter 11 - What Now

  Chapter 12 - Reward

  Chapter 13 - Sublevel

  Chapter 14 - Ping Pong Ball

  Chapter 15 - Span of Years

  Chapter 16 - Pioneer 10

  Chapter 17 - The Return

  Chapter 18 - Jupiter Moon

  Chapter 19 - Earth

  Chapter 20 - The Tiara

  Chapter 21 - The Ultimate Goal

  About Sam B. Miller II

  Chrysallaman Scout Saucer - A disc shaped object 40 feet in diameter and 20 feet in height. The craft is powered by one fusion reactor and a gravity drive module. The outer edge of the saucer emits cutter and heat rays in a 360 degree circle of death. 4 crew members.

  Chrysallaman Mother Ship - Every mother ship is a heavily armored arsenal with 5 scout saucers clamped into docking bays around perimeter of mother ship. The structure is 350 feet in diameter and 165 feet thick. The craft is powered by five fusion reactors and a gravity drive module. The outer edge below the saucer docking bays emits cutter and heat rays in a 360 degree circle of death. 30 crew members.

  Prologue

  The scout ship, UurBereck, skimmed over the arid plain of Planet HG-281 at better than 700 miles per hour. The gravity drive was barely audible as no real effort was required to maintain the integrity of the anti-gravity pocket surrounding the space craft at such a low speed. Sitting in the command couch was DrrTrr Zennk, a ruthless officer of the Chrysallaman race, who had spent the last six months of his life trying to determine if HG-281 was suitable for colonization by his people. The ultimate decision was in the hands of the Emperor, but from everything Zennk had seen and heard, Planet HG-281 was a perfect prize. Excellent climate, gravity, fertile soil, and inhabited only by a primitive, animalistic culture so physically and technologically inferior they truly deserved to be annihilated to make room for the Chrysallamans. Zennk grinned to himself as he thought about the elevation in rank and privileges he would enjoy as a rewarded member of the exploration team that found the new world and claimed it in behalf of the Empire.

  Standing beside him watching the view screen that covered nearly half the bulkhead in front of the ship's main control panel was his son, WrrNrr Zennk. Bringing the 12-year old on the mission had been the decision of the kid's mother who berated Zennk constantly, badgering him to agree to go on the exploratory mission and take their son with him. She had claimed the boy would gain valuable experience from the journey making him more apt to be selected in the future for military service. DrrTrr had finally agreed to take the kid with him. After all, agreement would stop her nagging, and HG-281 was 30 light years away from Chrysalis, the home planet of the Chrysallamans. DrrTrr and his son would sleep away the years in stasis while his horrid wife would continue to grow older. With a 60 year round trip and 6 months on the ground at HG-281, Zennk would return to a wife almost 61 years older than when he left. Fantastic! Maybe she would be dead by the time he got back. Wonderful!

  Taking his eyes off the view screen and glancing at his son, DrrTrr Zennk was inwardly appalled at how much the boy looked and acted like his mother. All emotional and weak-minded. It was definitely for the best that he had spent the last 6 months with WrrNrr, teaching him respect for the power and dominance of the Chrysallaman military and its way of life.

  "Father, why are we flying so slowly?"

  "On this planet the speed of sound is 768 miles per hour. If we go over that speed our ship will create a shock wave audible to the animals on the ground. Flying silently gives us the advantage of stealth."

  "Are we almost ready to go home?" the youngster whined. "I'm getting tired of being cooped up in this metal can all the time."

  "Yes, our mission is virtually complete," DrrTrr responded. "If you're bored perhaps we can find something to stir up some excitement."

  Pointing his finger at a faint bluish glow on the left side of the view screen, Zennk said, "See that glowing indicator on the view screen?"

  WrrNrr nodded his head and crossed his arms with childish impatience. "Father, I don't want to do any more exploring. I just want to go home!"

  "Yeah, yeah," DrrTrr mumbled.

  Pressing a stud on the comlink built into his combat vest, Zennk linked up with his onboard crew and announced, "All personnel. Prepare for capture of two animals. I want to stock up the larder. If we're going to be heading home in the next week or so, I want to enjoy some fresh meat before we get stuck in stasis for another 30 years."

  A loud buzz suddenly sounded from the control board and Zennk looked up just in time to watch the ship's automatic defenses use a cutter ray to blast a silvery object out of their flight path.

  "Father, what do you think that floating silvery thing was?"

  DrrTrr smiled at his son and said, "It matters not. There is nothing on this planet that can harm this ship."

  Turning his attention back to his control panel, Zennk swiveled the joystick that controlled the directional heat ray and locked its targeting sensor on the bluish image glowing now in the bottom center of the view screen. A look of smug confidence covered his face as he pushed the activation button.

  Chapter 1 – Roswell, New Mexico

  There is a widely held belief that on the evening of July 8, 1947, a disc shaped spacecraft crashed in the desert near Roswell, New Mexico. Just look up the references yourself.

  What really happened was one of the most closely guarded secrets the U.S. Government ever kept. The key word in that last sentence is ‘was’. This story spans more than 6 decades through some of the most turbulent times in World history. Hidden secrets of the highest governmental agencies had to first be discovered and then cleared for dissemination before this narrative could be published. As a result of your government sponsored indoctrination (I mean education) you probably harbor some skepticism at this point. Beware. I am about to rip your skepticism out by its roots.

  John Paul Moon Seeker was born Navajo and after 35 years in the New Mexico desert felt comfortable with his Native American heritage. Constant exposure to the sun had already begun etching the permanent dark
creases at the corners of his eyes and mouth despite his young age. Ignoring the history lessons from his Grandfather, he had grown up a cowboy at heart and had spent way too much of his hard earned cash on the huge steel belt buckle engraved with his initials currently wedged between his stomach and saddle. Years of sand and rough stones had deeply etched the well-worn leather boots pushed into the stirrups of his equally well worn saddle.

  John Paul loved to take his horse for a trot in the desert after sundown. The searing desert heat dropped a good 30 degrees from mid-afternoon to dusk, and the peace and quiet of the sand muffling his horse's gait was like music to his ears. This was a daily personal time where he could be alone with his thoughts. Only thing was, tonight was the last time John Paul Moon Seeker would be alive to enjoy his peaceful desert.

  One thing about being out in the quiet desert, evening after evening, is that your brain knows what is normal. Mountains don’t change. The positions and angles of giant boulders don’t change. The color of the sand doesn’t change. Human eyes are built to recognize change because change could indicate a threat. Whether John Paul realized it at the time, his human eyes were doing their hereditary job. Suddenly his eyes twitched to the right. Just coming over the top of the mountain range to the north, a couple of miles away maybe, he spotted a movement. The sky was clear, and John Paul’s eyes locked on the movement and focused.

  The movement became a speck that quite suddenly darted at tremendous speed directly towards him. To say that John Paul Moon Seeker was startled, shocked and curious was an understatement. He stared as the speck grew from the size of a marble to the size of a baseball almost instantly. As the speck got bigger, a weird humming vibration seemed to come out of nowhere, deeper and louder as the object came nearer.

  There was a wavy, blurry, mist-like corona around the glowing ball, and the brightness intensified to the point it began to take on the appearance of a welding arc. The light became so brilliant and strong John Paul threw his arm up instinctively to shield his eyes. The humming vibration kept growing stronger, escalating until his teeth hurt like he had just bitten down on a frozen ice cream bar and broken out a filling to expose a raw nerve to the cold.

  The inside of his head began to feel increasingly warm, and his nose began to drip as if his sinuses suddenly started to drain. His horse started shaking its head as if it was being tormented by stinging flies buzzing its ears. Just before he lost consciousness, there was a moment of unbearable heat behind his eyeballs and a warm gush down the back of his neck. As their brains baked inside their skulls, John Paul Moon Seeker’s body and that of the horse he was riding toppled over and lay deathly still.

  The humming continued for a short time and then faded like the volume on a radio lowers when the dial is turned. The ball of light continued to grow in size as it approached the bodies until hovering overhead, its size and shape were plain at last. It was a disc shaped object about 40 feet in diameter and 20 feet in height at its center from bottom to top. The lower half of the craft was all that now glowed and appeared slightly blurry. A spotlight spiked out of the underside of the disc and illuminated the dead rider and horse. What happened next was unexpected and violent.

  From three hills overlooking the death scene, puffs of smoke flew into the air. The dimming light of dusk made it easy to follow the red glare of the rounds as they bracketed the flying disc. Two thundering explosions rocked the object, and even with its size and apparent weight it shook and lurched to one side as a massive fireball burst out where one of the explosive shells impacted. It became apparent the disc was trying to rise into the sky and the glowing blurry light seemed to ooze from the bottom of the craft upwards but when the blurry region reached the hole blown in its side, the craft wobbled like an off-balance pie plate on the end of a juggler's stick. After elevating about 200 feet, the disc seemed to run out of air like a deflating balloon, and at that moment it suddenly gained speed on the side opposite from the gaping hole and rammed itself into the desert floor with a resounding crash, shaking the ground with tremendous force. The disc skipped like a flat stone thrown at a pond, leaving gouges in the earth as it propelled itself in short hops to its final resting place about half a mile away. White steam mixed with an orange glow curled up from several gashes torn in the metallic hull of the craft.

  All was quiet for about 5 seconds. Then a line of vehicles appeared and sped towards the downed craft. Armored personnel trucks, jeeps pulling large spotlights and trucks with mounted cranes all seemed to come from nowhere but actually were emerging from camouflaged tent-like coverings. The hidden equipment had blended so well into the desert landscape all of it had remained undetectable. Large dust clouds billowed behind the lines of trucks and jeeps converging on the grounded disc.

  “Approach with caution," growled from the radios. Military men don’t really need to be told this but saying it made Colonel Daniel Grant feel better.

  “I can’t believe we were so lucky tonight," said Cpl. Tom Unger, the communications expert.

  “A lot luckier than that guy on the horse. His number came up and that’s all she wrote. Definitely wrong place at the wrong time for him,” replied Captain Jim Blunt, a pensive look shadowing his face.

  “I want a medical team pronto to take the cowboy and his horse. Full autopsy on both,” ordered Colonel Grant. “I want to know precisely what happened to him!”

  Blunt barked, “Alpha Team. Take the lead. I want a minimum of 7 men inside that thing. Take control of it. Shoot anything that even looks like a threat! Keep in constant radio contact! Remainder of Alpha Team, cover all possible points of escape from the hull!”

  “I want lights on that thing like it was daylight!” Grant ordered.

  Illuminated by the powerful searchlights, the craft’s hull was revealed in stark detail. There were no rivets or obvious fastenings holding the metallic looking plates to a hull reflecting a dull sheen ranging from dark gray to darker gray. The only apparent opening into the interior was the gaping hole blown inward by the shells that had ripped the craft out of the sky. There were no obvious antennae or other projections jutting from the smooth hull. The trajectory of the crash had left the disc leaning at about a 30 degree angle when it plowed to its final resting place on the desert floor.

  Per instructions, 7 members of Alpha Team inched their way towards the gash blown into the hull and crept inside. The remaining team members took positions in a semi-circle covering the opening. There was radio silence for about 10 seconds.

  “Place is a mess. No resistance so far. Corridor inside opens up left and right. TAKE COVER!!”

  Automatic gunfire drowned out any further words. Two streaks of what appeared to be silver light about the width of a cigar flicked out of the jagged rip in the side of the craft into the night sky. One of the light beams glanced off a curled piece of the blasted hull with a sizzle like bacon frying. Silence followed. Seconds can seem like an eternity when utter silence follows the sound of gunfire. A weird scream broke the ominous silence. There was something about that scream, some quality that raised the hairs on the back of the neck and arms. It was not a human sound. The guttural tone seemed come from a throat thick with mucus.

  A body flew out of the hole in the hull of the craft as if it had been shot from a circus cannon. It flew at least 50 feet through the air before it began to fall to the ground, ending its unnatural flight in a crumpled heap. More gunfire erupted. Out of the blasted hole came three soldiers, Master Sgt. Deke Williams, Cpl. Eddie Smith and Cpl. Donald Carson, and as they backed out they fired back into the hull breach. Suddenly a hand-like appendage came out of the hole and gripped the edges. Pulling itself out into the searchlights was what appeared to be a muscular, tail-less iguana. Standing like a human, the creature moved its head back and forth as it surveyed its enemies. Reptilian-slitted black eyes with darker black pupils focused on the soldiers, and the creature’s mouth appeared to turn up in a grin. Gunfire from the covering positions that touched the lizard wasn’t rea
ching its body. Sparks could be seen flashing near its chest as the bullets glanced harmlessly away.

  One of the tanks positioned around the craft started firing its 50 calibre machine gun at the lizard, but just like the small arms fire from the rifles of the surrounding soldiers, the larger bullets and the tracers built into the machine gun fire glanced off the reptile without ever touching its body. Tank commander John Green watched in horrified fascination as the 50 cal bullets firing from Walter Burns' tank ricocheted off the alien. Several of the rounds deflected back to pound against the armor of Green's tank with a sound like a muted bell.

  "Hudson," he shouted.

  "Aim the big gun directly at that thing's chest and fire at will! Let's see if it can handle a cannon shot!"

  The turret of Green's tank was already pointed at the saucer. Private George Hudson made a quick site adjustment with an equally quick, gliding movement of the tank's cannon as it focused on the alien lizard. Just as the targeting bullseye centered on the creature's chest, Hudson pulled the activator.

  In the meantime the iguana alien, confident in its safety from the gunfire, took a step and quickly reached out like a striking snake. Grabbing Cpl. Smith around his waist, the lizard jerked him close. Holding Smith tightly, the creature reached up and took hold of the man's left arm with its other hand. With apparent ease the creature very deliberately jerked the arm completely off Smith’s shoulder with an audible tearing sound. Throwing the writhing body of Smith off into the night, the lizard casually dropped the torn off arm. Advancing a step towards Sgt. Williams, it began the movement to grab him around the waist.

  It was at that moment the tank commanded by John Green shot the lizard full in the chest with an artillery round. The high velocity explosive shell was well aimed. The creature exploded spectacularly, spewing entrails over a wide area.

  In the sudden silence that followed the massive explosion you could hear Green and Hudson off in the distance screaming triumphantly. "Weren't expecting that were you, Asshole?!"