by Don Cook
“Everything is ready for the attack, Your Excellency” Bonpharte said, as he sat in the Skandario’s conn-chair, while Trudierre stood to his left. “We can move in on Earth when Your Excellency gives the word.”
“Patch me through to the task-fleet” Trudierre said.
“Yes, Your Excellency!” Bonpharte said.
After a moment’s silence, Bonpharte spoke to the evil Minister-In-Chief, “All task-force craft are ready to be addressed, lord.”
“Thank you” Trudierre said.
He paused briefly with a flair used by many wartime leaders before they send soldiers into battle.
He addressed his legions of evil, “My Kannatikans in arms, this is your Minister-In-Chief. I know how each of you must feel about the invasion of a small planet that is defenseless against even our relatively small yet potent task-fleet. But Earth is where both Mephistula and our quarry, Captain Khraa-Veh ven-Elheem, are located. And since our Shrion benefactors hold Mephistula in higher regard than we do Captain Veh — that’s right, the same Captain Khraa-Veh who was thought to have been killed in the Rubiaar IV attack — we must invade! And it is on the very orders of Mephistula, who has assumed the form of politician-Earthling Mallory Ignacia Stanton, that we attack Earth and aid our Great Mistress in our cause.
“Yes, I realize many of you still hold Dr. Khraa-Veh ven-Elheem in the highest regard as a winsome, iconic national heroine of science and great accomplishment. Yes, she not only contributed to Kannatika wonderfully, but to the entire Known Universe, and gladly so. And yes, I, and everyone else from the Known Universe, owe her greatly.
Trudierre became more sanctimonious and Hitler-enraged as he continued, “But a traitor is still a traitor! How Dr. Khraa-Veh ven-Elheem managed to survive our benefactor Mephistula’s warp-jump to planet Earth by merely hanging on to Mephistula’s ship with just some grapple-beams is beyond me, your Minister-In-Chief. But survive she did, and Mephistula needs our help, if I, your Minister-In-Chief, ever hope to create our new great and more just star-realm!”
Trudierre Hitler-ranted further as he shouted, “CAPTAIN VEH IS A TRAITOR TO KANNATIKA, AND TO ALL THINGS KANNATIKAN! BEAR THAT IN MIND AS WE EMBARK ON THIS PRESENTLY TOP SECRET YET STILL GLORIOUS QUEST TO TAKE THE HIGHEST GROUND OF ALL, THE VERY MOTHER-WORLD OF HUMANKIND — THE PLANET EARTH!”
For several moments, all the star-sailors aboard the Kannatikan task-fleet ships, in darkly high morale, raised their arms in a devil rocker/Nazi-style salute, and repeatedly shouted “Hail Trudierre!”, as if they were madly shouting Nazis saluting their Fuehrer before they left for Earth on their most inglorious mission.
* * *
† Victory in the Solar System Day #1, which occurred on the New Universal Era date 1949-12-19.
* All quotations from V-S-S-Day: The Battle of the Solar System are taken from its Printing #1, published in 1953 N.U.E. by Guttner & Barding Publishing-Smiths, Inc., Nov-Amstrok (Planet-State), by kindly joint-permission of Lady Veh ven-Bonhoeffer and the publishers.
Chapter 13
BATTLE FOR THE SOLAR SYSTEM
The one-day Battle for the Solar System is unique in space warfare, with combatants and tactics that were also unique and unevenly matched. For the Shrions, their spatial forces were represented by the small yet potent invading 14-vessel Shrionized Kannatikan starfleet under the personal command of Minister-In-Chief Pot-Trudierre, with Mephistula, Queen of the Nephilimites representing Shrion interests in the Earth-city of Minneapolis. The Free Known Universe only had two sets of defenders, one per front. In space, Earthman Michael Bonhoeffer, Special Agent with the American Federal Bureau of Investigation, and a small band of Amkerian fighters fought for our side. On Earth, the interests of freedom were defended solely by the legendary Captain/Dr. Khraa-Veh ven-Elheem.
The Battle for the Solar System, with its tactics that baffle military historians to this day, will continue to confound space military historians for ages to come.
Montt-Kamblynn,
Admiral, Platinum-Class, AMSAF (Ret’d)
V-S-S-Day #1: The Battle of the Solar System
(Excerpts from Book’s Introduction)
OUTER SPACE, 20 MILLION MILES BEYOND EARTH’S ORBIT
15 JULY 24:00 COORDINATED UNIVERSAL TIME (EARTH-TIME)
The space between the orbits of Earth and Mars remained serene as it always did, without even a hint of space warfare. While several degrees of perdition broke loose across the blood-soaked progress of Earth’s history, the heavens managed to keep their serenity. Even the incursions from Earth by NASA, Soviet/Russian, and ESA space probes were but mere flutters in spacetime’s scheme of things in the Solar System beyond humankind’s homeworld.
Out of nowhere and no-when, the Solar System’s serenity was shattered by the arrival of a huge red ball of light four times the diameter of the planet Jupiter. It materialized into the invading Shrion-controlled Kannatikan task-fleet! The oval-triangular heavy space-cruiser/hive-control flagship HRMKS Skandario led its starfleet of 13 near-identically-designed cruisers (each vessel roughly the length and aft-width of nine Earthly jumbo jets laid end-to-end, as was the standard for most military heavy space-cruisers from the Known Universe) in a goose-like V-formation.
And with stealthy slowness, the Kannatikan invasion fleet neared an ignorant planet Earth.
BRIDGE OF HRMKS SKANDARIO
00:45 COORDINATED UNIVERSAL TIME (EARTH-TIME)
“All starships have exited warp-jump safely, Your Excellency!” reported Fleet Admiral Yamme-Otteau, the senior military commander of the task-fleet, to Trudierre.
The tyrannical young Minister-In-Chief was arrogantly impressed as he asked, “When can you have the fighters ready?”
“Within one-half watch, Excellency, as per battle plan.”
“Good. Make it so!”
“Yes, lord Excellency!” Otteau said, as he gave a devil-rocker/Nazi-style salute, before he began to give orders to all starships throughout the invasion task-fleet.
Potty, Mephistula/Stanton’s voice called across the void to Trudierre’s mind. Potty, I am ready. How are things where you are?
We have just come out of warp-jump and making final preparations, Trudierre spoke mentally to Mephistula/Stanton. How goes it on Earth?
Everything is ready. Victory is ours! Remember that!
I will, Trudierre said with his mind across space to Mephistula/Stanton on Earth.
Remember, Potty, stay true to Lucifraeon. Victory is ours! Hail Lucifraeon!
Trudierre still in psychic communication with Mephistula/Stanton, gave her a devil-rocker/Nazi-style salute as he shouted, “HAIL LUCIFRAEON!”
“What was that, Excellency?” asked Otteau, who, like everyone else on the bridge, was puzzled at Trudierre’s outburst.
“Sorry, Admiral” Trudierre said, realizing that no one else knew the telepathic communication between Mephistula/Stanton and himself. “Maintain fleet at stealth-approach speed, and inform the fighter-squadrons to prepare and standby. We’ll only invade once we are closer to Earth. Raise stealth-and-battle shields.”
“Yes, Your Excellency!” Otteau said as he devil-rocker/Nazi-saluted.
TELEPORT-CAPSULE INSIDE HORSE BARN, THREE-CROSS RANCH
TEXAS, USA
14 JULY 6:53 PM CENTRAL TIME
“Operation ‘Whole World Watching’ is ready, Admiral” spoke Makarrth’s aide to his superior and Jim. “We can initiate the plan when you give the word.”
“Can you guys do what we Earthlings call a picture-in-picture broadcast?” Jim asked.
“That’s part of the plan, Jim” Makarrth said.
“Excellent.”
Makarrth said, “Then as these Earthlings say, let ‘er rip!”
“With pleasure, sir!” the aide said, with a sharp nod-salute, before he activated Khraa/Astra’s satellite network, took control of all of Earth’s telecommunications systems, including all forms of television, radio, Internet, all forms of cellular communications technology, etc. �
�Operation Whole World Watching” was put into effect.
A message from Khraa/Astra’s satellite network detected the invading Kannatikan task-fleet’s presence flashed its red light brightly and beeped its klaxon loudly, alerting everyone present to the presence of Trudierre’s invasion fleet.
“What’s that, Admiral?” Jim asked Makarrth.
“That’s a warning, Jim” Makarrth said somberly. “Trudierre’s fleet is here in your Solar System, preparing to invade Earth.”
“Don’t you think we’d better wake up Mike? He’ll have to tangle with Trudierre’s fleet.”
“Okay, Jim. I’ll wake up Mike.”
COCKPIT OF FIGHTER-SPACECRAFT “BLUE 1”
FIVE MILLION MILES BEYOND EARTH’S ORBIT
SAME MOMENT
The wake-alarm sounded, awakening Mike instantly.
“Blue 1 here” Mike said, as he looked at the main monitor and tactical scanners. “I see Trudierre’s fleet has arrived.”
“Mike,” Makarrth radioed, “Makarrth here. The enemy has arrived. But do not engage enemy until our own starfleet arrives. Repeat, do not engage the enemy until our reinforcements arrive. In the meantime, standby.”
Mike was consternated as he said sharply, “What am I to do in the meantime? If I have to go —”
“You know how the suit works. If you need bowel-and-bladder relief, press the button with the toilet on it located on your spacesuit’s left-sleeve control pad. It will stimulate your physical and mental systems into relieving you, and then clean your private parts for your hygienic safety. You should know that by now, Mike. Captain Veh briefed you about how your spacesuit works.”
Mike, to his embarrassment, recalled how Khraa/Astra instructed him on the workings of his spacesuit, including its special urinary/fecal matter-to-energy conversion devices.
Mike laughed mildly as he radioed Makarrth, “You guys really think of everything, don’t you?”
“In spaceflight matters, you have to” Makarrth said, with witty jest. “Any of your NASA astronauts could tell you that.”
“Okay” Mike said with a chuckle. “I’ll make like I do when I’m on a stakeout, and lay back and wait for your space-cavalry to come.”
“Very good, Blue 1. This is Earth-base to Blue 1, over-and-out.”
“Blue 1 to Earth-base, over-and-out” Mike said, before he ended communications.
MALLORY STANTON’S DRESSING ROOM
MINNEAPOLIS CONVENTION CENTER
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA USA
6:45 PM CENTRAL TIME
Mephistula/Stanton, pacing out of nervous habit, knew that this was the biggest night of her life so far, and would remain so until the night of the Election itself. But she knew that while there was rioting in the streets of Minneapolis, she still had to increase the level of madness that even more violent and far fiercer rioting would require.
To this end, Mephistula/Stanton assumed a lotus position on the floor, closed her eyes, concentrated her mental powers upon the Earthly masses in Minneapolis, and telepathically implanted into the helpless, unsuspecting minds of both Minneapolitans and visitors to Minneapolis alike the very brutal primal mental and emotional drives that lead to and/or exacerbate increasingly maddening urban violence.
Aside from the Minneapolis general strike of 1934 that began May 20 and ended on August 22 of that year (with its most infamous battle being the “Bloody Friday” shootout between local police and truck drivers, where 67 picketers were injured and strikers John Belor and Henry Ness were killed), Minneapolitan history has been relatively peaceful — until the political convention of Mephistula/Stanton’s party, during that riot-infested month known as “Bloody July.”
From the very start of the convention, the kind of violence that struck Chicago in August 1968 made its bloody comeback, and although no one on Earth has ever been able to explain why the urban warfare in “Bloody July” happened at all, even in hindsight, the battle lines in the “Minneapocalypse” were clearly drawn.
The aggressors were the well-armed Stanton-backed/instigated radicalized Christophobic liberals (mostly racial militants, radical feminists of all ages, and teenagers and adults under 40 years old) who might have well been latter-day Hitler Youth gangs minus the swastikas, uniforms and banners. The defenders were Christians, patriots and pro-Christian Jews from a good demographic cross-section of the general population.
During that bloody summer, the “It-Can’t-Happen-Here” crowd in America were shamed into silence, knowing that it was happening in relatively placid Minneapolis.
It was learned, upon psychographic brainwave chronoscopic time-probe examination [a technique where scientists from Khraa/Astra’s part of the Universe are able to peer back into time with space-based time-probes and watch events of past ages unfold with thoroughly color-corrected crystal clarity], that it was none other than Mephistula/Stanton who had psychically whipped up the violent frenzy that led to a temporary declaration of martial law in the Minneapolis-Saint Paul area and deployment of National Guard Units in the famed Minnesota twin cities.
The worst action occurred just on the proverbial doorstep of the Minneapolis Convention Center complex, too close for comfort. Meanwhile, as the Minneapocalypse raged on, roughly 1,600 longspans [i.e., 1,850 miles] to the south, Jim Stock and Admiral Makarrth took unique tele-communicative measures that affected the entire Earth to ensure total global transparency of information regarding Mephistula’s plans.
Dr. Khraa-Veh ven-Bonhoeffer
Captain, AMKEXPRA
V-S-S-Day: The Battle of the Solar System
FRONT ENTRANCE AREA, MINNEAPOLIS CONVENTION CENTER
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA, USA
THROUGHOUT 14 JULY
As the throttling July summer heat sweltered brutally in Minneapolis, and as the whole Earth was forced to witness the chaos over all telecommunications media worldwide, swarms of well-armed lawless left-wing feminist pro-Stanton demonstrators flooded Minneapolis’s Gold Medal Park like locusts. These rioters next swarmed onto the Convention Center grounds where they violently battled National Guard soldiers, local police and pro-Turnbull, pro-life, pro-traditional family Christian demonstrators.
The Christians were protected by pro-Christian paramilitary bikers who called themselves “Bikers for Turnbull.” Although the Convention Center’s battles were not the only battles in the “Minneapocalypse”, the rioting on the Convention Center’s grounds was by far the most violent and bloodiest. The feminists remained undeterred in their onslaughts, even though the Bikers for Turnbull and National Guard soldiers put up a brutally tough fight.
But then yet another group of brazen, militarily well-organized militants that consisted of ethnically diverse anti-feminist adult males and teenage boys known as “Men’s Lives Matter” (an even more militant offshoot of “Black Lives Matter”, where a separate peace was forged between black, white, Jewish, Native, Hindustani and Oriental males and those of other ethnicities to combat hatred spawned by feminists) stormed onto the Convention Center grounds and elsewhere throughout Minneapolis.
Not caring whether or not they would end up being arrested, these men thought of any and all female authority figures in the same way Black Panthers had angrily thought of white authority, and as they battled their foes, these men angrily shouted at their adversaries acid-vitriol-filled phrases like “Women are sows!”, “Get outta here, sow-belly mommas!”, “Cleopatra’s gotta die!”, “Death to Catherine the Ingrate!”, “Stop roaring — you’re all filthy!”, and other, oft-unprintable misogynist epithets with hostile abandon.
Temporarily undaunted, the militant feminists fought the militant “andronists” in the blistering daylight and summer heat with brutal gusto, until, after the bloody urban combat-rioting that apocalyptically hearkened back to 1968 Chicago had raged on for several hours, the Men’s Lives Matter group, whose tenacity shocked the fighting feminists into becoming off-balanced, got the upper hand and roundly defeated the feminists. The feminists ran sc
urrying into National Guard and police units, who, in turn, promptly arrested the feminists for various acts of violence.
But before those same soldiers of the law could do the same with the Men’s Lives Matter crowd, certain Christian males who had enough of male-bashing simply snapped once they saw that the males of Men’s Lives Matter were defending them. The men in these groups stood up for one another by pelting the astonished law enforcement officials with rocks, Molotov cocktails, and various kinds of grenades as they fiercely yelled blue streaks of hateful slurs such as “Girl-piggies!”, “Christ-haters!”, “Commies, go home!”, “Stop standing up for Satan!”, “Quit the Gestapo and get a real job!”, “The Mayor is a fink!”, “The Prez is a fink!”, “Stanton is skank!” and “Minneapolis is Nuremberg, USA!”
In the summer heat of battle, the National Guard started firing at the angry mobs on both the left and the right, until several Bikers for Turnbull charged in and broke up the fighting. The Bikers for Turnbull’s national president climbed with a bullhorn onto an elevated platform and began to address the combative crowds and appeal for calm.
“Attention, everyone!” he said through his bullhorn with biker-angry bluntness. “May I have your attention, please! This is Harley Davis, president of the Bikers for Turnbull! I’m speaking to anyone who is not National Guard or local police! These National Guardsmen and Guardswomen are here to restore order! If you want to voice your opinions, that’s fine! That’s what it means to be American! But if you’re gonna brawl for your cause, these police officers and National Guard soldiers, whose job it is to defend your rights, can and will deal with you with bullets and violence! I want you all to clear the streets and get your butts home! All of you! Obey the police and National Guards troops, go home, and let’s stop this bloody rerun of 1968 Chicago! Go home! Go home!”
Very few Christians and none of the weapons-wielding feminists listened to Davis, who became heartsick and then even angrier, having seen the crowds ignore his appeal for peace and heard them jeering at him.
