CHAPTER 39: SOL

Earth

Germany

United Federations of Nations Navy Spaceport

The day had begun just like any other day, the coffee was fresh and the rich aroma wafted through the air, rousing even the sleepiest of giants from their slumber. Outside, birds sang songs of bliss, their melodic notes intermingling with the gentle rustle of leaves, while the sun shone down, casting a warm golden hue over everything it touched. Unfortunately for President Hammond, he didn't possess the luxury of enjoying the beautiful summer air. Earth was his only refuge, the brave man having chosen to remain in-system to fight for the safety and freedom of his people, but he could not risk the vulnerability of remaining in orbit. The various space stations circling the planet were formidable, yet not strong enough to repel an invasion from the seemingly limitless forces arrayed against them. Earth represented their only hope for long-term survival.

Jeffery Hammond peered out the window of the top floor of the miniature skyscraper that housed the Spaceport's command center, soaking in the warmth of the morning sun. He found himself hoping for some good news to emerge from his meetings with the various chiefs of staff. Closing his eyes momentarily, he let his mind drift back to cherished memories of his late great-grandfather, those chilly mornings in Colorado spent together. The great George Hammond had been a general in the US Air Force and was the inspiration behind Jeffery's own decision to join the military. Those had been simpler times, when the war with the Republic was at near-peace levels, and humanity was not teetering on the brink of extinction. The one-hundred-and-fifteen-year-old man was jolted from his daydream as his Chief of Staff entered the room, her expression all business.

"Sir, the Joint Chiefs are ready for you."

"Thank you, Kari. I'll be right there." The President inhaled deeply, straightened his suit, and began to walk towards the adjoining meeting room with purpose. "Please, have a seat, everyone." Displacing the formalities, he settled into his chair at the head of the long table, a gesture meant to convey both authority and urgency.

"Sir, we have officially lost all communications satellites orbiting Earth and Luna. We are now relying on ground-based tight beam communication methods to relay data from Mars, the fleets, and Luna," Admiral Bill Dumphry, the Chief of Naval Operations, began his report, his voice steady but laced with concern.

"Does Musk Industries have any left we can use?"

"No, sir. We've lost all satellites, including those in the private sector."

"Are the ground defensive platforms active?"

"Our energy-based defenses have been operational, but the Alliance is actively targeting power generation facilities, cutting us off from vital resources," the admiral replied, his brow furrowing as he continued.

"What about the kinetic systems?"

"Unfortunately, most of them have been decommissioned, and those still operational are short-staffed and low on ammunition. We are expending every rail dart we possess, but it’s simply not enough."

"How far is the fleet?"

"At least three weeks out. The Juggernauts are significantly slowing the fleet's progress. We might see the sub-capital ships here in about a week, but even that may not provide adequate firepower."

"And it's not soon enough." General Karol Sylvan, the Chief of Staff of the Army, interjected, his tone filled with urgency.

"I need options. I will not accept surrender. This is our home, and we will defend it."

"Sir," Commandant of the Marine Corps Rami Kelt added, his voice firm. "We have our nuclear deterrent." A heavy silence descended upon the room, stretching out for what seemed like an eternity.

"Unfortunately, that requires Senate approval and the consent of each member nation. We do not have that kind of time," the President replied, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

During the arms race that preceded the outbreak of the Third World War, the nuclear fusion weapons possessed by the United States, the Russian Federation, and the People's Republic of China threatened global annihilation more than once. When the United Federation of Nations was formed, the founding nations unanimously voted for the Nuclear Act, or Article 17 of the Federation Charter, which prevented any single body from wielding the power to launch nuclear weapons unilaterally. The Federation Senate must pass a resolution requesting the use of each member state's nuclear arsenal, and each member state must then approve that resolution. Article 17 had never before been activated.

"We have several warheads of the new Nuclear Fission type ready to go; the United States and the United Kingdom have taken delivery of several," General Kelt asserted, his eyes narrowing with resolve.

"Sir, if we were to launch one of these weapons and it detonated in the atmosphere, we would be killing millions, if not billions, of lives below," Doctor Yuri Ghardos, the Chief of Staff of the Federation Science Division, added, his voice tinged with dread.

President Hammond took a few moments to contemplate his options, which felt increasingly like none at all. Never in his extensive career had he faced such a no-win scenario; every choice he had would either lead to massive civilian casualties or simply be too late to make a difference. The universe seemed to conspire against him, granting him little time to think as a loud "Boom!" rattled the bones of every man and woman in the room. The blaring sirens of the base quickly followed suit, a shrill warning echoing through every corner of the compound.

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"Sir!" General Sylvan stood abruptly, her hand pressed to her earpiece as she listened to her commanding generals. "That was…" Another explosion shook the room, this one much closer. "Alliance ships have begun orbital bombardment of the area. Paris has been obliterated." The sounds of fighter jets streaking overhead drowned out her report, and more explosions rocked the room as the enemy craft began their assault on the base.

"Sir, we need to get you in the air now!" Admiral Dumphry urged, his voice rising above the chaos.

The fighters unleashed their fury upon the compound with ferocity, making multiple passes and firing on everything in their sights. Yet, several enemy fighters were swiftly shot down by guards who rushed to man the anti-aircraft defenses, momentarily forcing the fleet to halt their assault. The base guards, seizing upon the brief pause, took their positions with renewed determination. Marines swarmed to the tops of the walls, while anti-aircraft guns and anti-vehicle turrets became operational, their crews prepared for the oncoming onslaught.

President Hammond observed the soldiers executing their training flawlessly from the observation windows in the conference room, a flicker of pride mingling with the dread that twisted in his gut. Yet, something felt amiss. "It's too quiet out there. Why did they stop the assault?"

Before anyone had a chance to respond, a loud shriek, followed by roars and drumbeats, echoed ominously in the distance. The ground trembled as feet and hooves stomped with a rhythmic cadence, signaling the approach of armored vehicles. Chanting and singing rose from that same direction, trees falling in their wake, instilling a deep sense of fear in the defenders.

"How the hell did they land troop transports?" Admiral Dumphry asked, bewildered.

The first shots rang out before the enemy was even visible. A sniper managed to take down a Marine with a single, deadly shot, followed by a rapid succession of three more rounds fired from unseen marksmen. The first four Federation Marines and Army defenders fell, their ultimate sacrifice igniting a firestorm of rage among the remaining soldiers. Yells of fury and defiance erupted through the air, drowning out the enemy's chants, signaling the beginning of the battle they had all been dreading.

Soldiers began firing energy rounds from their rifles toward the source of the chanting, while anti-tank turrets unleashed intense bolts of superheated plasma into the advancing enemy, striking the ground and the trees the foes charged through. The defenders were taken by surprise when Minmoran, Mordechai, and several other alien species they had never encountered before began to surround the compound. Red and blue bolts of energy whipped through the air in all directions, creating a stunning yet chaotic display of death and destruction. Anti-tank weapons fired indiscriminately at the swarm of aliens, thinning their ranks as best they could, yet the true horror emerged from the cover of the trees. Two- and four-legged walking mechs lumbered into view, accompanied by several track-type tanks that began to unleash hell upon the compound, melting sections of walls and towers with each devastating shot, claiming the lives of Federation personnel with cold precision.

"Sir, we will not last long here; we are being overrun!" General Sylvan shouted over the cacophony of explosions that filled the air.

"Those armored units will likely shoot down any craft attempting to escape. We can't fly out of here," Admiral Dumphry rebutted, his voice strained.

"Does anyone have any ideas?" President Hammond asked, but he was cut off as missiles began to rain down from seemingly nowhere, striking the mech units and ripping them apart one by one. A cacophonous roar from multiple aircraft drowned out the chaos as lead began to pour from the skies. Anyone not directly engaged in battle began to cheer as Federation assault craft descended, delivering a much-needed reprisal.

"This is Eagle One, coming down hot in L.Z. Ready for extraction of Cardinal and the Bishops," the pilot of one of the assault crafts radioed in, maneuvering to land in the center of the compound, where barely enough room existed for the craft to navigate. The battle seemed to wane, the majority of Federation personnel having fallen while all of the Alliance forces lay defeated, leaving a momentary respite in the air.

"Sir, we should go now. They likely have more soldiers incoming; they didn't come here to destroy the place; they likely are here to capture you!" General Sylvan urged, grabbing the President's arm with urgency.

"I agree; sir, you are a target. We need to get you to Chayanne Mountain," General Kelt added, his voice laced with tension.

"What the hell is that?" a Marine yelled as the President and Chiefs of Staff stepped out onto the walls, making their way toward the extraction point. Looking in the direction the soldier was pointing, they beheld a single, tall alien with dreadlocks and a grim smile striding into the middle of the field. Federation soldiers opened fire, but their bullets and energy blasts seemed to vanish harmlessly before reaching their target. The alien stood defiantly until the last shot was fired, at which point the commanding officers ordered a cease-fire. The alien's smile widened as the color of his staff shifted ominously, and he slammed the bottom into the ground. An energy wave erupted from the tip, creating a powerful burst of air that nearly knocked everyone off their feet, though it had no other noticeable effect.

"What the hell kind of voodoo magic shit was that?" another soldier muttered, but no one replied as they watched the unknown alien vanish into a cloud of smoke.

"Sir, I don't want to stick around to see what…" Admiral Dumphry began to suggest, but his words were drowned out by the frantic screams of Marines. All around them, the dead began to rise. Limbs regenerated into full skeletal structures, and decapitated skulls reformed, every fallen soldier from both sides suddenly standing on their own feet once more. Eyes black as the night, horrific screams of agony erupted from their mouths as they began to assault anything they could find.

"Sir, now!" the Admiral yelled, urgency flooding his voice. The Chiefs of the Army and Marines took point, their weapons slashing at the reanimated corpses they encountered. One undead soldier managed to seize General Kelt, tearing through his uniform and leaving a gash in his arm before the General shoved his sidearm into the creature's throat and pulled the trigger. The body slumped lifelessly once more. Alien corpses began to flood the compound as the President and his entourage desperately lifted off, escaping the hell that had erupted around them.

"They fucking have necromancers now?" General Kelt blurted out, cradling his arm as he slumped into a chair, attempting to regain his breath.

"How the hell can we fight against an army with unlimited numbers?" President Hammond whispered, his voice barely audible over the din.

"I don't think we can, sir. I think it’s time for the Omega protocol," Admiral Dumphry replied, his tone matching the President's in somber gravity.