Planet Genocide II: Galaxies Collide 5: Onslaught

by Andrew McGregor

  Anjara flicked the comms line once more, his voice determined as the fighter rapidly approached the upper earth’s atmosphere, ‘Report casualties…onwards to their transports! Their fighters will be rising to engage…Our time is now!’

  Somas’s strained voice responded, the wingman glancing round in darkness, ‘Two Vipers lost commander…one craft damaged and heading back…we are seven now, and with you…’ His tone changed to speak to the other pilots, ‘Tighten formation…we hunt drop ships and look for their fighters! The Vipers strike once more!’

  Clicks on the comms line followed, Anjara’s craft surging onwards as the blue planet below filled his front viewer, his hands straining as pain surged through his muscles, the suit immediately compensating as the controls began flashing, his eyes straining as he shouted in recognition, ‘Twelve enemy transports ahead…destroy them!’

  Chapter Thirty: The Attack of Zulu Company

  Riaz glanced round the open hold of the Fahimian drop ship, grinning at the colourful red seating with crimson trim, the walls adorned with colourful flickering screen displays, interspersed with small intriguing pictures of animals, the upper racks of polished chrome with an immaculately thick linoleum styled floor, the walkways of a semi almost tartan design, pin lights shining upwards from between the small seats.

  Shino nudged him from behind, giggling at the spectacle as colourfully uniformed loading crews deposited the last of equipment in the overhead storage racks, her head shaking, ‘They certainly know how to make you feel at home…all that is missing are table lamps and books!’

  Riaz stepped forward chuckling and staring at the small lined seats, ‘At least you will feel at home…I am not sure I will fit into these!’

  The small Philippine glared next to him playfully, unaware Begum had stepped onto the readying transport ramp, ‘You know…General MacArthur once said, ‘give me ten thousand Filipinos and I shall conquer the world.’ I am from the Philippines…you should be very careful…we are dangerous!’

  Begum stepped forward as Riaz glanced round and lowered his head, Shino blushing as she realised the Fahimian dignitary was giggling, a small arm rising to point at the seats, ‘They will widen automatically for your human bodies…’ The small commando’s eyes narrowed in mock curiosity, ‘These Fili-pionas? Who are they?’

  Riaz flushed almost crimson, stifling a laugh as Shino grunted, ignoring him, ‘Filipinos…we are an island country in the far east…well, south east Asia. A very pretty country with welcoming and happy people sir…perhaps we can all visit together?’ Her eyes moved past the nodding Fahimian, glimpsing other soldiers assembling behind in the loading bay, all preparing to board the now lined transports, ‘That was a very nice snack…very filling and a little spicy. May I ask what it was?’

  Begum smiled warmly, watching Riaz’s eyes widen as he glimpsed names flicker across the overhead racks to designate seating, a hand running across the chrome briefly before he saw his own, the small Fahimian gesturing towards him, ‘It is a vegetable dish we call Krakea…very good for your digestion and full of energy. We make stews with it usually, but an experienced chef can create numerous dishes with the right ingredients…’ He indicated as Riaz slowly lowered himself into the seat, smiling widely as it automatically adjusted to his muscled posterior and rear frame, Begum continuing, ‘You will be sat together with your other friends…’ He nodded, sweeping the scarlet cloak over his shoulder before glancing round at the soldiers behind, Debra Hardie stepping forward onto the ramp, ‘We will be leaving soon…the ship is gathering speed and is cloaked at present. The attack has started…we are already detached in our upper ship…it happened whilst you ate.’ The Fahimian smiled fondly, ‘Our incubators and eggs are all safe now…they are in the lower section and are progressing into the next galaxy for safety, along with a small fighter protection screen.’ He pointed at the flickering screens, ‘You will see some of our lovely animals when they close the doors…we use the footage to relax our commandoes, many say seeing our home planet helps them focus on the battle to come…that if they fall, their last memories will be of the beauty of nature and the Fahimian homeland.’

  Debra drew next to them, Shino swallowing as she witnessed the emotion in the Fahimian’s deep brown eyes, whispering, ‘You must be very proud of your culture and history…I have never met such a people that love animals so much, it is very endearing.’

  Begum’s eyes widened in surprise, a wide smile forming across his lips, ‘We live for our animals…they are what has made us strong and noble.’ His expression suddenly changed, head turning away as a hand rose to the earpiece before looking back grimly, ‘It is nearly time…please take your seats and make ready…I feel the next few hours will challenge us all.’ The small Fahimian turned to face the rear opening, stepping towards the ramp before hesitating and looking back, ‘I will wish to visit these Philippines…a very insightful and charming people.’ Then he strode down the ramp, indicating for the commandoes before him to disperse to their crafts, the figures stiffening as reflective helmets nodded obediently, ornate laser rifles slung over their shoulders.

  Debra slapped Shino’s shoulder armour as they made their way towards their designated seats, ‘It seems you have made a friend in a high place…that could be useful…’

  Shino smiled, nodding, ‘He seems very nice…they are all so loving…’

  Riaz grinned as the two women lowered on either side of him, ‘I like them a lot…the colour and manners. There is also another thing…’ He glanced to either side as Debra nodded for him to continue, Shino sighing as she recognised his mocking demeanour, ‘They are also a whole race of people that Shino is taller than…there had to be some across the galaxies!’ He jerked as an elbow jabbed him in the ribs, yelping in forced pain as Debra shook her head, his voice a low hissed whisper as troops filed into the rear of the drop ship, ‘Dangerous little things...MacArthur was right!’

  Captain Dugachard was the last to board the dropship, having checked all the other transports were fully manned, the lights in the dispersal bay dimming as the large ship gathered momentum, an adrenalin fuelled nervousness filling her tensed frame as the doors whirred behind, the exterior light diminishing as the walkway rose, further clanks and mechanical humming as the seals were tightened, the engines of all the small craft initiating in unison.

  Fahimian engineers checked the hull briefly, observing lights and the extension or retraction of side laser barrels as they indicated to the pilots in their cockpits, the mountings on both the lower and upper hulls seeming fully operational. In addition, a frontal upper retracting gatling gun and an upper small rear turret was integrated into the extended angular and raised central roof of several of the craft. The maintenance crews inspected the exterior plate closely, ensuring air vents were not obstructed, the reinforced resin outer surface preventing magnetic mines or nano robots from homing in on the drop ships, the surface colours beginning to transform as the pilots initiated stealth mode, the red lines and lighting becoming more subdued as dark grey, dull brick and a dappled green gradually covered the hulls.

  The captain turned as she reached the cockpit doors, looking across the rising apprehension in the seated soldiers’ faces, counting an equal number of Trevakians and Fahimians spread across the transport hold. Her frame tensing once more, several of the Trevakian males staring eagerly across her curvaceous uniformed body, her eyes narrowing at the attention as she spoke, ‘We are about to depart…’ The officer frowned, glancing at Debra and Riaz, Shino’s head emerging from behind the muscular asian as Tregan pulled the sliding door back from the cockpit, her voice determined and grimly official, ‘We will be landing in a hot zone…the enemy will be all around us. Each drop ship will fight as a separate unit, Fahimian, Trevakian and human together…each with a special combat unit of engineers from the next vessel.’

  Debra glimpsed the serious expression and stress across Tregan’s face, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as Dugachard drew a sharp breath, �
�Once the lights in the interior hold go to red, arm your rifles…we will experience combat immediately and some will fall. We stay together and in cover and move forward, the Fahimian craft guns will provide additional initial support.’

  The hum of engines increased, two resin crew seats either side of the cockpit door lowering as the drop ship hull seemed to vibrate, creaking slightly, the captain lowering herself and grasping the restraining belt on either side, her voice rising as Tregan winked at Debra, slowly withdrawing into the cockpit and closing the door as the female officer continued, ‘Secure yourselves…this will be a turbulent ride…keep your boots firmly on the floor, it will become magnetic to prevent any injury, your uniforms should also inflate slightly.’ Her lips pursed as the exterior hum became louder, belts clicking across the hold, the drop ship creaking once more as they felt the vessel gently rise, the whirring of mechanics as the landing gear was retracted, ‘A Fahimian special action squad will land in the ship next to us, several of our commandoes are ordered to accompany them initially as part of an opening mission…they will return once successful. Until that time, all boots will remain magnetised…this will slow you down, be wary of that. Now, are there any questions?’

  Hushed excited whispers spread across the hold, the humming increasing as additional side engines were successfully fired up, the captain stiffening, ‘Make Ready! Visors down!’

  Sharp intense squealing ensued, the hold lights flickering briefly as the hushed voices rose, the marines grasping to the side of their helmets, the Fahimian commando reflective full face visors moving from side to side, several checking the laser rifles across their thighs. Then the craft suddenly shot forward, breaths drawn and several startled whimpers as the drop ship accelerated, many grasping their seat sides in alarm as it suddenly plunged downwards, the hull screeching loudly against exterior pressures, the engines now roaring as the craft weaved from side to side.

  The upper screens flickered as many of the soldiers closed their eyes in fear, the view seemingly from a low flying drone or even bird, sweeping across deep blue lakes and fertile green grass, large forests skirting a fast flowing narrow river with waterfalls. Fahimian figures below waved upwards from smiling faces in the brilliant sunlight, animals racing across the fields as the strange craft swept overhead, Riaz staring upwards at the surreal images in rising relish, his heart pounding in longing to visit the lands as Shino and Debra on either side clenched their eyes.

  Tregan stared in awe through the reinforced alloy cockpit windows, the Fahimian blast shields of a transparent resin and reducing the need for a raised projected display. The two small pilots before him were both dressed in commando uniforms, shining silver armour interspersed with thick black padded uniform, their faces concealed by reflective visors as they tensed against the controls.

  Tregan’s eyes widened as he saw the vast ship above and to the right, bright laser blasts belching from upper and lower guns towards the Trevakian ships far to the left. He grimaced as he glimpsed one burning brightly, the cruiser slowly progressing away under what seemed to be low power, rear guns still firing out defiantly at the distant warship.

  Dots swept across the front of the vast ship above, the Fahimian and Trevakian fighters and bombers now engaging in sporadic dogfights with the reservist Morgon vessels, the smaller pilots screaming in glee at the inexperience of their foe as one by one burning, crippled or shattered black craft attempted to land back on the warship, or make the earth’s atmosphere below. There was no escape, the flashing crimson vessels pursuing any escaping enemies and disabling or destroying them, several spinning and permitted to burn up in the atmospheric ring as the Morgon commander shrieked with rage from his bridge…now understanding the insubordinate engineer was right…he had indeed sent too many craft to the planet below, now they were alone.

  The outer shield shimmered and flashed, powerful missiles and laser fire from the Trevakian fleet now targeting weaker spots as more and more energy was diverted to the protective outer layer, the warship engines roaring as engineers worked feverishly to reinforce weaknesses. The ensigns on the bridge flicked their gloved hands across screens in numerous frantic diagnostic checks, the white armoured commander screaming for more powerful fire to be brought on the attacking ships, many continually moving to thwart or confuse the automatic targeting devices, Fahimian engineers endlessly attempting to break into the Morgon network and corrupt the systems.

  Aboard Galactic Freedom’s bridge, the admiral spun round in his chair, staring at the flustered ensigns, his voice low and determined, ‘How soon before we puncture their shields? I need it now!’

  The lead ensign looked up briefly, then scowled at the scrolling report below, ‘They are able to divert their energy across the shield…they seem to have some sort of reserve power and its vast…the ship’s engines may be the source, but they have the ability to reinforce very quickly.’ She glanced up once more, frowning, ‘We are weakening them slowly…but are taking damage, the Pirrigan is disabled and withdrawing, other ships report integrity loss and shield damage themselves…it is only a matter of time before they break the Fahimian jamming codes and gain reinforcements from the surface.’

  The flushed admiral nodded, a hand rising to his chin as his chair revolved back to face the main battle screen, his eyes narrowing in dread as he whispered to himself, ‘Perhaps we have thrown everything against their shields…and this is where it all begins to unravel…’

  With all their efforts, the Fahimians and Trevakians knew any window of opportunity was closing…they needed a breakthrough on the attack.

  Tregan gasped as tracers swept past the craft cockpit windows, the small vessel bouncing and manoeuvring further, his eyes straining as he glimpsed two explosions near the outer shield, the Fahimian pilots ramming a Morgon fighter protection screen. The Trevakian’s voice was shaking as the dropship bounced and jerked from side to side violently, the Fahimian pilot running his small hands across small flashing lights, ‘C-can they see us?’

  The co-pilot shook his head dismissively, his voice seeming almost laboured and mechanical behind the visor, ‘Negative…cloaking and stealth still enabled, we should pass without detection…’ He instinctively flicked one of the red flashing lights below, ‘Transponder frequency changing…initiating new code…’

  The pilot nodded in agreement, Tregan holding his breath as further flak and lasers swept out from the immense warship, the outer shield still shimmering from impacts, his muscles tensing in apprehension as the numerous craft swept onwards, Fahimian fighters accelerating above and readying to uncloak as a protective shield.

  The drop ship bounced and then surged forward, flying through streaming space dust, several more explosions from the dogfights erupting across the defensive shield, the Fahimian pilot grimacing beneath his visor, ‘Attack codes received…we go!’

  Tregan slumped backwards in his seat, swallowing hard as the humming engines seemed to increase in intensity, the craft shaking and vibrating violently, the co-pilot reaching forward, flicking one of the screens, ‘Hold to red…re-evaluating transponders once more…detection scrambling in effect.’ The co-pilot drew a wheezing excited breath beneath the visor, ‘Now is the time…’

  The rear compartment of the drop ships were plunged briefly into darkness, then flickered in pulsing crimson, the screens going blank as the sound of rifles powering up resounded across the gloom, several sharp intakes of breath as the marines readied, Debra whispering to the two soldier next to her, ‘Stay with me…we should be home soon!’

  Shino swallowed in rising nervousness, her body shivering as the craft buffeted on a flak explosion, Captain Dugachard’s voice rising, ‘Ready all weapons…stay calm and remain with your squads and sections…keep your heads down as we disembark! There will be incoming fire!’

  Shouts rang out as the drop ship banked suddenly and sharply, engines almost screaming as the vessel gained speed, the other dropships following as the Fahimian fighters de-cloaked above, sh
ooting forward to engage any Morgon craft.

  Tregan stared ahead, his heart pounding as the vessel stabilised, surging forward as the pilots tensed, the immense warship filling the front screen as they swept through the outer shield, a gasp coming from his lips as the dropship suddenly surged upwards, the rattling and vibration increasing before its abruptly slowed, banking once more at a steep angle, whirring as the laser guns on either side deployed, the dropship turning as thrusters burst into life.

  Clanking and grinding as the landing gear deployed, the vessel sweeping through the green flickering protective shield, laser cannon belching as the upper gatling gun spewed high powered rounds outwards, seven other ships joining with the first.

  Morgon engineers and loading crews shrieked in panic, the dropships uncloaking rapidly as the gun and laser fire erupted, the high powered intense lasers tearing through armoured bodies and scorching the landing bay walls, high velocity bullets clanking against upper gantries, the reserve soldiers cowering behind equipment boxes, two Morgon fighters and a disabled dropship offering further cover. The upper images of Trevakian and human edible body parts splintered and disintegrated, high velocity rounds shredding the Morgon flags and emotionally charged propaganda slogans hanging from upper gantries, many becoming engulfed in ignited flame.

  Dust and smoke billowed outwards as the dropships lowered, loud clanks as the landing gear made contact with the steel decking below, the rear doors lowering rapidly as Captain Dugachard shouted frantically, ‘Everyone out! Defensive shield…secure the landing area.’ Tregan emerged from the cockpit beside her, flashes surging through the rear compartment as the doors whirred downwards, crashing onto the deck, the officer lifting her own rifle, indicating to a stunned Riaz, ‘Stay close…once the engineers alienate and secure the protective shield’s integrity, we advance across this ship!’ Her voice rose once more as her visor shot downwards, ‘Kill every Morgon on board…we have six hundred marines and commandoes with special weapons detachments…we are taking every landing bay!’