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“Do not approach them. Inform the local authorities that they will not be molested if that sight is left undisturbed.” Fu pointed at the closest body that was lying on the ground. “Your colleagues will come around shortly.” He looked back at the man and took a step closer. “Do not approach the tower. We are not interested in harming you or your people.” Fu’s helmet was inches from the man’s face, and to add flair to his presentation, he flipped down his blast shield and seconds later activated the Shimmer Suit’s cloaking ability and disappeared from sight.

  The old man’s mouth dropped as fast as the rifle fell from his hand and he took several steps back quickly, looking to his left and right, scanning for the alien warrior that had been standing in front of him, but all that was now visible was the mast reaching away from the barren, chilled and windswept prairie.

  2

  The White House

  16 January

  It didn’t take long for the Bednarik presidency to go from a sense of panic and shock to action. When the Oval Office had received confirmation that almost all of the Alliance assets in the system had jumped out and that the Planetary Command Ship had gone radio silence, President Charles Bednarik made an executive decision that he knew would not only shape the rest of his time in office but perhaps the fate of the entire world.

  “We need to move our forces to Def-Con-One.” General Anderson said dryly, sitting in a large leather chair inside the subterranean situation room. His expression hadn’t changed since the President, and his advisors had been moved underground.

  “I agree, Mr President.” Seconded the National Security Advisor, Zach North. “We can’t wait any longer. We need to have our forces in proximity to this threat in Kansas launch an immediate attack and order our nuclear forces to begin preparations to launch.”

  “Launch at whom?” The CIA director chimed in. “You have a grand total of one land target, in the continental United States as a target and nothing else. Where are you planning to send these weapons?” Angela Simmons was a shrewd woman, having only joined the CIA after a twenty-year career in Army Intelligence.

  “Well.” Zach looked at the woman sat across from him, then towards the President. “Sir, we need to consider options for targeting all incoming enemy vessels.”

  Nick Beaudrot had heard enough. “Mr President, I think that you are going to have to make a decision.”

  The President nodded to his Chief of Staff and looked down the table to his old friend, Andy Barnham. “Andrew. Thoughts?”

  The Secretary of Energy clasped his hands together and sat forward with an expression of deep thought on his face. After a few seconds silence, the old Dartmouth alumni turned to face the president. “Discretion, Sir.”

  “Meaning what exactly?” Asked General Anderson.

  “We do,” Barnham paused for a moment, then sat back in his chair. “nothing.”

  “You can’t be serious?” Zach North interjected. “We need to defend ourselves.” Slammed his fist on the table.

  “How?” Angela Simmons asked bluntly, before turning to look at the President. “Sir, we have neither the capability or the knowledge on how to defeat this foe.”

  “I agree.” The President finally spoke. “General, I want all forces to hunker down and hold firm at their current positions. If they are attacked, they can defend themselves, but they are not to launch offensive probes against the enemy.”

  “Sir,”

  “I’m sorry General. The Vancouver incident should tell you that we are not able to match-up against this opponent. At least not now.” The President stated calmly.

  Before the President could say another word, an aide rushed up from the military command and communications cell that dominated half of the room and shoved a piece of paper into General Anderson’s hand. The table grew silent as everyone watched the general read the note. Blinking a few times, Anderson looked up at the aide, then over to the President.

  “Mr President, I have just been informed that several cities have been targeted by the attacking force.” He looked back down at the note, then back up to the aide. “Confirm this and get me an accurate damage assessment.” The general’s orders sent the aide dashing off.

  “Targeted, how?” Asked the Sec Def.

  “I don’t know yet.” The General replied quickly. “It seems several large cities were attacked; I don’t know anything else.”

  Simmons leant forward and looked up and down the table. “This may have been a show of force. Letting us know what they are capable of.”

  “Perhaps it’s just the first phase of a planetary wide eradication plan!” Interjected Zach North. “Sir, this is the proof and justification you need to put our forces on their highest level of readiness and to order our troops to respond to the incursion into Kansas and to prepare a full nuclear strike on any targets that we might be able to hit.”

  “Are you fucking mad?” Asked the Chief of Staff. “We haven’t received any notice that any of our cities have been hit, yet you want to launch a full attack on whom exactly? The CIA director may be correct. If this is a show of force, perhaps they targeted cities at random to prove a point, and that any resistance on our part is foolish.”

  The aide started to rush back towards General Anderson, but the President caught his attention. “Captain, bring that here.” The assistant obliged and handed the president a slip of A4 paper with some handwritten notes scrawled on it.

  The president took the sheet of paper and examined the list that was written on it. “Is this accurate?” He looked up to the aide.

  “Yes, Sir. They haven’t knocked out our satellites yet, and this is the most recent information we have.”

  The President looked back down at the note. “It would seem that Mexico City, Sao Paulo, Moscow, Lagos, Tokyo and Sydney have all been hit by 100 megaton weapons.” The President handed the note back to the aide.

  “What? Why?” Asked George Garnier, the Secretary of Defence.

  Angela Simmons looked to her right. “Because they’re the largest cities on their respective continents.” She said dryly.

  The Sec Def looked at the black woman sat next to him. “Are you certain?”

  “Very.” Simmons replied sharply.

  “General Anderson, order all forces to hold at their present locations. Direct our naval forces to their nearest ports. If.”

  The Situation Room’s speakers screeched to life with a nearly deafening noise that sounded like someone dragging their nails down a chalkboard. Less than five seconds after the noise had stopped, a tech ran up Nick Beaudrot.

  The President watched as the young man wearing the baggy suit spoke into his chief advisor’s ear.

  “What?” The President asked. His patience had limits.

  “Someone has hacked all our systems.” Nick replied.

  The President turned his head to his right, then his left. Everything looked in order. “Really.”

  The aide in the cheap suit stood erect. “Yes, Sir. NSA, NASA plus NORAD are reporting that all their systems, plus those at the Pentagon and here are entirely compromised.”

  “But, everything looks in order.” The President replied.

  “That may be, Sir. But I can assure you that everything is compromised.” The aide replied.

  “But we can still communicate will all our assets?” Asked the General.

  The aide nodded. “Looks that way, Sir, but everything is being monitored by an outside source.”

  Before the aide could say another word, the public address system in the situation room came to life.

  “President of the United States.” The PA system was on its loudest setting and was nearly deafening. “I am Sector Commander Varus. I am sending an emissary. They will arrive in one Earth hour.”

  The PA system cut off.

  3

  Coalition Command Ship, Orbit of Terra

  16 January

  “Jump complete!” Came the report from the Nav station.

  Varus didn’t bother looking at the
main view screen, it was fluff, he needed the tactical command view of the situation that he had just jumped into, and what he saw made him smile, a little, on the inside. He didn’t want a massive shootout with the Alliance, and it looked like his wish was being granted.

  Sajoba was standing right next to him and feeding him an analysis of the battlefield. “Alliance vessels,” There was a pause. “Numbering thirty-five are jumping from the system.”

  Varus shook his head, he had been told on numerous occasions that there were more ships in the system, but no matter, they were fleeing, and that was all right in his book. Something somewhere in the back of his head was telling him to avoid shedding any more blood than he needed to.

  “Ships are moving to designated assignments, no resistance encountered.” Sajoba reported.

  “Status on Terra?” Varus asked, gazing at the giant holographic image that was floating in front of him.

  “No reports. Signals indicate that Sinus Fu has set up the Barrier Generator. Nexus Drives coming online.” Sajoba reported.

  Varus looked at his aide. The man that had once been a mere base commander with a few ships to his name on the Borders, on the verge of nowhere, now he was his second-in-command of the largest operation that the Coalition had launched in several years. There was something in the back of his mind that suddenly clicked the moment they jumped into the Sol System. Varus had always thought himself cold and calculating, but Sajoba was an opportunist who wanted riches and glory, and only now, on the verge of comprehensive victory, did it start to make Varus’s stomach turn.

  “We have a report that the task-force sent to capture the PCS has lost one of its ships.” Sajoba reported.

  Varus looked over at his second. “Any other losses?”

  “One of the Heavy Carriers didn’t jump from Rancor.” Sajoba looked at the information on the display. “We are now in a position to launch the intimidation strikes.”

  There was a smile on Sajoba’s face. It was the same smile that Varus had seen when he had told Sajoba that his gambit to recover the mineral had worked. Varus had the planet, and from all looks, the system. He knew he had gotten a little lucky. The size of his force had enabled him to have overwhelming numbers, and the Alliance wasn’t about to waste ships in a foolish gambit to save the system. Perhaps they were unaware of the treasures that the planet held. Either way, the day was his.

  “Ready to launch global strike mission.” Sajoba repeated. The same look of confidence and success on his face that had been there when he had ordered all three incursions into the system before this triumphant fourth attack.

  Varus nodded and looked at the information being displayed in front of him. It was clear that the system was his, and except the loss of a single ship, the attack had been perfectly executed. Looking up, he locked eyes with Sajoba for a moment then looked back down at the tactical display.

  “It seems we are victorious, Sajoba. I do believe that such a strike would be a waste of expensive and rare munitions.” Varus said dryly.

  Sajoba smiled. “I do believe that Imperator Casix wanted to ensure that the occupation would be incident free and that we were to attack the pre-designated targets as he suggested.” Sajoba said calmly, and without a sense of remorse in his voice.

  Varus knew that he couldn’t show weakness or hesitation in his command. He also had the faintest suspicion that if he weren't cruel enough, Sajoba would find a way to inform Casix that his leadership was incapable of the task at hand. “Of course. Launch the attack on the pre-designated targets at once!” Varus ordered. Something was coming over him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something. It was the first time he had been beyond the Reach, and now he had to wipe out vast swathes of the locals in his first few moments in orbit. That was what the job called for, but he was starting to dislike it.

  Sajoba glanced over to the large comms station. “Order the ships in orbit to destroy all satellites in orbit, minus the space station to our front, and for the fighter squadrons to kill everything flying on that planet.”

  There was a brief pause in noise while various members of the bridge crew transmitted orders and instructions to different departments and vessels. It was textbook. Nothing was out of step, and Varus could roll his shoulders in an attempt to loosen up.

  “Sir!” It was one of the several Detection Technicians. “Possible launch of missiles towards our forces in orbit.” There was another pause. “Confirmed. Multiple launches from two areas, roughly 3000 K apart.”

  Sajoba moved towards the station. “Number of weapons fired?” He rested his arm on top of the controller's station.

  “Twenty-eight missiles in total, sir.”

  “That’s fine.” Sajoba looked towards Varus. “Orders?”

  Varus turned his head to look over his shoulder. “Disable the weapons and allow them to fall back to their points of origin.”

  Sajoba looked at the Dec-Tec. “What is the closest ship to the launch coordinates?”

  “Destroyer K257.”

  “Order them to approach and neutralise the threat.”

  4

  Lasqueti, British Columbia

  16 January

  Star Guard Hulo, the senior Alliance representative on the surface of Earth, didn’t waste time in making a decision. Once the Epsilon had made a run for open space, and the Planetary Command Ship had vanished into the dark waters off Lasqueti, he acted swiftly, and decisively.

  “We need a sailing vessel, at once!” Hulo yelled at the young Canadian army officer who was standing next to him. “We need to get off the island and find refuge away from this location.”

  Doctor Keegan Beck was still in a state of shock. He and Ryan had been left on the island by Sector Prefect Dinalis and Lord Soturi while Ship Master Ranix had fled the planet. There seemed very little hope of anything positive happening at that moment. His feet were cold and soaked through after having charged into the water off the beach, and his mind was devoid of any practical ideas at that moment. Looking up the beach towards Hulo, Keegan almost wished that Joe was with them, lending his reckless charisma to the occasion, but it wasn’t to be.

  “Doctor Beck!”

  That snapped Keegan out of his daze. He quickly turned and looked up the beach at the Canadian officer who was waving him away from the water’s edge.

  “We need to leave, now, Doctor.” Captain Joyce was keen to depart, his voice announced his apparent concern about staying on the island any longer than they had to.

  “Of course!” Keegan said in a loud voice, before looking to Ryan. “Shall we?” He put his hand out towards his wife who took it, before starting up the beach. “Hulo, what’s your plan?” Keegan asked, slowly regaining his confidence. He was, after all, the Earth’s leading contact with the Alliance.

  The Star Guard looked at Beck, then back to the Canadian officer. “Can any of your men operate a sailing vessel?”

  “I can.” Sergeant Wilson replied.

  “Excellent. We are moving there now.” Hulo ordered and signalled to his men to start moving off the beach. “Doctor, we are moving to this islands port in search of a sailing vessel large enough to transport all of us away from this location.”

  “Star Guard.” Hulo’s second-in-command, Guard Second Grade Tatanga, walked up. “Enemy ships are dropping towards this area.”

  Hulo looked skywards for a moment while Keegan continued to trudge up the beach. When Keegan reached the soldier, the alien dropped his gaze down to the scientist. “No time for discussion doctor. We need to get off the island before it’s swarming with Coalition forces.”

  5

  Tohil Facilities, Canada

  16 January

  “Reports are suggesting a massive alien fleet has entered orbit and is now depositing ground forces to,” the technician paused for a moment. “Four locations around the globe.”

  “What locations?” John Robert asked.

  The technician switched screens on his monitor which was being fed real-ti
me data from Tohil satellites in orbit, while a massive television on a near-by wall continued to show broadcasts from several news agencies.

  John Robert knew something was wrong when the drone that he had had its communications suite come online, now his fears seemed to be confirmed. He took a drag from his cigarette and looked around the room that was the nerve centre of the underground research laboratory that had been buzzing with energy since the first sign of trouble.

  “Location one is Alejandro Selkirk Island off the coast of Chile.” The tech reported.

  “What data do we have on that?” John Robert quickly asked.

  “Not much, sir.” Replied a tech seated at a computer terminal nearby. “And the source I am using is not verifiable, but just under 11 kilometres by 6, densely wooded and very mountainous. The permanent population of under 60.”

  John Robert nodded. “The second location?”

  “Location two is Amsterdam Island in the southern Indian ocean.” The tech reported.

  John looked over to the other tech. “Data?”

  “Again, an unreliable source, but roughly the same size as Selkirk Island with a population of under 30 and currently listed as a dormant volcano under the administration of France.” The tech reported.

  John took another drag on his cigarette. Two very isolated islands in the southern hemisphere. “Can our satellites determine the size of the force on these islands?” He asked.

  “Negative. They show that only a single vessel landed on each island.”

  John stood turned away from the tech’s station and looked at the bank of images showing a live stream of news from the BBC, CNN, and Al Jazeera. The central picture coming from the centre of the United States was a live broadcast from a local news showing three ships on a landing approach in the middle of what looked like nowhere.

  “You!” John pointed to one of his staff that was closest to the monitors. “Turn on the volume on that centre image!” He barked and took two steps towards the screens, but before the volume could be turned up, the tech looking at the satellite data identified the location.