Zaxon B: The Final Struggle (Galaxies Collide Book 4)

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Zaxon B: The Final Struggle (Galaxies Collide Book 4) Page 2

by Andrew McGregor


  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 variety of government ministers and forces personnel. 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 visiting dignitaries.

  The ship has provided a valuable link, enabling wounded soldiers from Zaxon B to be treated on board and then transferred to local hospitals when fate permitted the portal to open. Sending the last of earth’s offered troops through, the portal is now closed to avoid detection from the Morgon Warships above.

  Character Overview: Pastarian System

  Duty Manager David Bland

  The Duty Manager in charge of Heathrow 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 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 (Missing in Action) when they are discovered absent.

  A relationship strained and open to bickering, they are currently being scanned by an unknown force or ship.

  Introduction: Pastarian Deep Space

  The lights shone horizontally across the cockpit, the instruments flickering then fading, the sensors seeming to grow in intensity as David Bland squinted in the intense glow, raising his hands in front of his eyes to protect them against the glare. The pilot scrambled between the front seats, gasping as the light seemed to embrace him, his chest swelling as it seemed to penetrate his physical state, heat surging through his internal organs as the human next to him began to breath heavily, his body also affected by the intense sensation.

  Both bodies shuddered, feeling the oxygen levels seem to rapidly decrease, their breathing becoming more sharpened as an extreme cold rapidly filled the small transport vessel. Condensed breath began to spill from their mouths, the pilot shivering as he indicated for David to move into the cargo department behind, their uniforms inflating in a desperate response to keep out the encroaching cold.

  David struggled between the seats, his limbs beginning to tremble as the frost swept through the uniform protection, the air seeming still and almost syrup like as he blinked several times, his eyesight becoming strained and blurred as he staggered, his cold hands and arms grasping for the sides of the doorway and the overhead handles and racks.

  His legs seemed to be walking on air, the gravitational control fading as the cockpit panels flickered further, then died, sparks flying from the console as the pilot gasped frantically in the intense cold, ‘They are going to engage a tractor beam…’ The interior lights dimmed, then faded, the small transport craft pitched into darkness apart from the intense horizontal scanning light, the pilot’s teeth chattering as he gasped once more, ‘Try and get an assault rifle…they will pull us…’

  Both men began to float upwards, their cold hands frantically grasping outwards for handholds to steady their physical ascent with the craft beginning to slow further, twisting in space and starting to turn, the hull screeching as extreme pressure began to heat the cold external reinforced alloy.

  David gasped as the temperature dropped dramatically, his body shivering as the combat suit fought against the extreme elements within the cargo hold, his eyes briefly glimpsing condensation crystallising rapidly across the luggage racks and metallic storage boxes as the interior of the craft began to freeze.

  The air began to form into a thick mist, the two men floating between lined seating and upper stowage racks as the temperature plummeted further, the blood naturally withdrawing from their limbs as muscles contracted painfully, the lack of oxygen from limited blood flow sending their bodies into spasm and immediate exhaustion.

  Containers gradually rose from the stowage area, floating across the cargo hold as the two men stretched in futility for the freezing racks and seats, their limbs too cold to grasp, frost extending rapidly across the surfaces. Gasping for breath, their eyesight misted further as the small transport craft turned in the darkness, the grinding of metal and alloy becoming higher pitched as the tractor beam engaged, the ship jolting as it began to be drawn through space, the intense scanning light now filling the cockpit. Their hands swept across assault rifles, the strength to unclip the weapons from their housings now gone, the sensation in arms and legs almost burning in pain as oxygen and the blood supply withdrew further from their limbs.

  The two bodies shivered uncontrollably, their breathing becoming laboured as their sight faded, the bright light from the cockpit casting shadows and reflections off the floating iced equipment and alloy frames. Gradually the two men drifting into unconsciousness, the oxygen levels dropping further as the craft was drawn forward, their eyes closing into a deep slumber in the cold and air deprived environment.

  Equipment and ammunition boxes floated through the craft, the two bodies drifting across the hold as the craft gathered speed once more, the tractor beam pulling the transporter towards its source, a dim light forming in the distance as the open landing bay of a massive angled ship dragged the tiny vessel forwards.

  As the craft passed through the ships shields, the gravitational force slowly returned, two floating bodies and equipment drifting back to the steel grooved floor of the transport bay, the vessel landing with a brief shudder onto the shining floor of the landing bay. The external lights dimmed, then went out, the deep space of the Pastarian System returning to pitch darkness as the ships cloaking system re-engaged.

  Chapter One: The Race

  Rees ducked into a shell crater, his heart pounding and adrenalin soaring through his system as he gulped for air, the stench of scorched flesh and burnt earth filling his nostrils. Tracers zipped overhead, smoke and burning embers billowing from the crashed star fighter site as flashes swept through the shroud, mortar shells falling to earth before the Morgon lines. The enemy soldiers shrieked in hatred through the detonations at the bodies of their forward line, the front wave having disappeared under the weight and explosions from the crippled craft.

  The advance faltering, Morgon commanders screamed at their soldiers, the black armoured figures temporarily disorientated in the billowing mass. Fires burned sporadically across the shattered landscape, Morgon soldiers regrouping and preparing to advance once more under the supervision of their frantic commanders, the smouldering body parts of the shattered front line lying only metres away as red eyes glowed in determination and hatred, the assault weapons being rechecked as the forward troops awaited a break in the shelling.

  Jozefina Kapralova stared frantically through the combat binoculars, dark lines running across her view as the targeting system displayed the distances across the smoke filled terrain. Distant red dots filled the glasses through the smoke, the Morgon soldiers readying to advance once more as she frantically searched for signs of Rees. Lieutenant Kim bit his lower lip, staring through similar field glasses next to her, his arm outstretched to point as he scanned the landscape. Captain Mekeert shouted next to them as she r
an along the trench, machine gun fire and sniper cracks echoed across the front defences, ‘The pilot went down over there…normally he would deploy flares…but with the enemy nearby that will not be an option. Where is our man?’

  Kim gestured frantically, his eyes straining to glimpse Rees, ‘Somewhere over there! He has gone to ground…or been killed!’ His teeth gritted as he sensed Jozefina’s shoulders sag in despair next to him, his voice a consoling hiss, ‘…probably seeking cover in a shell crater…’ He spun round as another Trevakian officer dropped into the trench behind them, the Korean Marine officer’s voice lowering, ‘Get the snipers to target any movement either side of this soldier once we locate him…be careful for the pilot if he is alive…I want a full update on what is happening out there!’

  Captain Mekeert nodded her agreement to the officer, the male Trevakian slamming his fist against his chest, turning and running at a half crouch along the trench behind the defensive soldiers, their combat uniforms now transforming into sand, white and grey camouflage as snowflakes fluttered down onto the terrain.

  Rees crawled up the slope of the crater, his gloved hands clawing at the cold earth as his ears were filled by the shrieks of hatred some one hundred and fifty metres away. Pulling the assault rifle from his back, he edged closer to the lip of the crater, his eyes straining through the smoke and dust for signs of the pilot. Raising the weapon, the edges of his visor glowed red, numerous dots appearing through the shroud, his eyes straining as fear gripped his chest.

  Gasping for air as the shell detonations swept through the smoke, his helmet tensed against his head, stimulating his already heightened senses as the combat suit began to lighten. Staring out into the shroud, the shrieks seemed dangerously near, his teeth clenching as his mind struggled to focus, a deep regret of running from the trench filling his thoughts.

  Then he glimpsed a green dot, his heart racing further as he realised it was the pilot, the body struggling along the ground some fifty metres from him, the figure crawling from a shell crater and attempting to move away from the enemy positions. Biting his lower lip in fear and lunging upwards, his eyes narrowed as the tracer bullets swept past from behind, his legs feeling weak as he darted towards the next depression, weaving from side to side as more detonations flashed in the smoke cloud.

  Lieutenant Kim tensed, his glasses surging as the green dot appeared, his voice shaking as he shouted frantically, ‘Drop smoke…more smoke…fire either side of our man!’

  Jozefina Kapralova jumped next to him, her eyes straining through the binoculars as she glimpsed the figure, Rees running at a low crouch and ducking into another shell crater. Her mouth was dry with fright, the emotion rising as the red dots seemed to fill the glasses, the edges surging in warning as she swallowed.

  With Jozefina’s breath coming in short gasps, she vaguely heard the distant shout from the trench to the right, an English accent shouting desperately, ‘First section with me…form a defensive line for their return! Second and third sections…concentrated cover fire…lay smoke!’

  The six Royal Marines rose from the trench, their bodies lowered as they advanced, assault rifles pointing menacingly forward as the troops moved apart, spreading across the terrain and dropping into whatever cover was available across the torn ground. The roar of rockets behind broke Jozefina’s stare, the thuds of mortar rounds soaring upwards complimented by the smoke streams shooting across the sky above, the air seeming to swirl around her as she felt the heat across her lower face.

  Rees was shaking almost uncontrollably with fright, attempting to control his rising panic as he struggled up the slope of the crater, briefly ducking his head over the lip and staring out into the smoke filled torn terrain. Smouldering body parts lay strewn across the earth, the Morgon soldiers torn apart as the star fighter crash landed and slewed across the front line. Many of the shattered arms and legs were still twitching, a couple of broken bodies shuddering or attempting to weakly crawl through the smoke, their minds and senses swirling in confusion and shock.

  His stomach cramped painfully tight, nausea sweeping through his frame as the dust and shroud billowed over him, fresh mortar shells flashing ahead in detonation, some puffing smoke, the others exploding and propelling razor sharp shrapnel through the murk.

  Tears filling his eyes as he inched upwards, his chin scraping across the dirt as he neared the top of the rim to stare out. Slowly raising his head, he gritted his teeth to glance out, his visor surging red once more as numerous dots flashed across the viewer. Blinking to clear his eyes, he strained to see through the shroud, his heart pounding and breathing coming in short gasps as he raised the assault rifle to his right eye.

  The body crashed over the crater lip next to him, Rees screaming in fright as the assault rifles slipped from his fingers, his frame knocked backwards into the centre of the crater. Rolling in the dirt, his sight blurred, panic sweeping through his chest as hands gripped tightly at his legs, a gasp of exhaled air as he kicked out, the grip loosening as he scrambled away blindly.

  His hands scraped frantically across the earth and rock, the tears blurring his vision as he strained his eyes in frustration to see the assault rifle, the combat suit inflating and seeping relaxants into his pores as it sensed his panic rising. Pushing forward on his hands and knees, a despondent whine came from his lips, the high pitched shrieks seeming nearer, his gloves tearing through the earth as his knees jarred across rock and shattered equipment. Rees whimpered as he heard the shuffling behind, his hands grasping an item before him, the visor flashing as it attempted to provide him with vision through the swirling dust and smoke.

  Straining to lift the object, he gasped as it broke free from the earth, the Morgon helmet rising into his view as the visor cleared suddenly, his heart racing as he fell back in shock, the decapitated head falling back into the dust. Rees spun round, hearing the heavy breathing behind, his eyes straining as he glimpsed the shrouded figure struggling towards him, its arms outstretched.

  Pin lights surged through the smoke, the figure staggering as it neared, Rees gasping in terror as rockets swept overhead, the chilling shrieks seeming to fill the air around him as detonations thundered across the landscape. The rasping breathing approached, Rees staring transfixed at the figure as it seemed to struggle forward, then dropping to its knees. He grimaced through the swirling dust, the frame seeming to shake violently then drop forward onto its hands as the helmet emerged, Rees’s stammering voice rising in panic, ‘Stay away…’

  The silver lined shoulders and scratched gold embossed helmet was shaking, the figure inside coughing as the breathing rasped, a heavily gloved hand stretching out towards him as he blinked furiously, staring wide eyed at the advancing frame.

  Slowly the helmet rose upwards, the blast visor cracked and deeply scratched, the torn inflated flight suit shaking as the chest coughed violently, a gasping voice breaking through his shock, ‘So human…shall we get out of here? The Morgons are close…and my head is a prize trophy to them…they don’t like Trevakian flight leaders from Viper squadron!’

  Mortar shells erupted through the swirling dust and smoke, the Morgon commanders screaming at their soldiers as the second line was reinforced with reserves, hundreds of black helmets turning to glance at each other as assault rifles were raised in readiness.

  Then the cry went out, the echo running across the line, ‘Karachnee!’ The Morgon infantry rising upwards into the murk, shrieks of hatred and bloodlust surging from their throats as they lunged forward. Walkers rose from their concealed positions, mechanical legs extending and pushing the central armoured body upwards as crews leapt into their machines, their blast screens rising to encapsulate the black reinforced cabins.

  The black armoured frames sprinted forward into the smoke, the shrieks of hatred echoing across the torn landscape. The walker guns surged with power, static energy sparking across the weapons as they readied to fire, a squad of acid gunned machines mechanically stepping in their wake, shattered
body parts cracking and splintering beneath their alloy legs.

  Jozefina Kapralova stared wide eyed through her binoculars, the edges surging with amber light as the viewer produced hundreds of red dots. Lieutenant Kim gasped next to her, his body spinning round as Captain Mekeert shouted frantically, ‘Enemy attack incoming…concentrate your fire…drive them back!’

  Mekeert lunged along the forward trench shouting at almost fever pitch, ‘Snipers…bring down their commanders!’

  Rees stumbled painfully, his chest pouring in sweat as he supported the flight leader, Anjara breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he coughed violently, his body shaking uncontrollably. The human averted his eyes from the burnt and scorched skin, the Trevakian flyer having seemingly sustained additional internal wounds from the fight above and the landing.

  Making painful progress, they staggered and lurched across the uneven ground, discarded equipment and shattered weapons hampering their progress, Rees struggling to support the figure next to him, his shoulder now wedged into the flight suit armpit with Anjara’s arm grasped tightly round his back.

  Glancing round fearfully, Rees’s eyes widened as his visor surged in colour, indicating to the numerous enemies in the swirling murk. Grasping Anjara tightly and pushing forward, the flight leader grunted in pain, his eyes narrowing as he winced in agony.

  Slipping and losing their footing, Rees fell agonisingly to the side, tears of pain and frustration filling his eyes as he attempted to rise, Anjara gasping for air as he dropped to his hands and knees. Rees screamed in irritation, the shrieks getting louder behind as machine gun tracers and fire swept over their heads, his hands grabbing roughly for the flyer, the Trevakian rolling onto his side and hissing, ‘Leave me human…I am done…they will catch us for sure…’

 

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