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Beginning of the end

Beginning of the end

The star system designated 1145-G-H, known locally as Yadvek’s system after its discoverer, was unremarkable by galactic standards. Yet, its third planet, a perfect haven for oxygen-breathing life, held a secret: ruins of an advanced civilization, estimated to be over forty million years old.

The recent discovery of an underground bunker, undetected by scanners, had sparked a surge in the system’s population. Inside the bunker, scientists found countless humanoid and non-humanoid beings preserved in cylindrical stasis chambers.

“How do you reckon they kept them so well preserved for this long?” one scientist mused.

“Unsure,” replied the head researcher, Dr Anton. “This place still has power, but complete vacuum is the only way to preserve a body for this long. I’m more interested in how this place still has power and why it doesn’t show up on any scanners.”

“This is James. I’ve got a door here. I’ll open it when you’re here,” a voice crackled over the radio, piquing the scientists’ interest.

“Best get a move on, I can’t wait for it to be another storage room,” grumbled one.

“Don’t be like that. We’re deep in the facility now. We’ll reach the control centre at some point,” another reassured him.

As the scientists made their way towards James, unaware of the facility’s imminent reactivation, a wager was struck.

“I heard you’ve got a bottle of genuine Earth whiskey. Wanna make a bet?” Richard asked Anton.

“What do I get if it’s a way to the control centre then?” Anton countered.

“My relaxation days this week, so you can really enjoy that whiskey,” Richard grinned.

“You’re on. I’m already looking forward to my first glass,” Anton chuckled.

They hurried towards James, eager to settle the bet. Five minutes later, they arrived at his location.

“Richard, Anton, you took long enough. I was about to open the door and go through on my own,” James said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“We had an important bet to sort out,” Richard explained, slightly out of breath. “Head researcher Anton here has a bottle of Earth whiskey in his office. I bet him it’ll lead to another storage closet, but ever the optimist, he thinks it’s going to lead to the control room.”

“I’m with him. It will be the control room or at least an access corridor,” James mumbled, his mouth full of a screwdriver as he pried open the access panel. “One moment... almost got it... And... Here... We... Go.”

The door swung open, revealing a hallway and a single door, unlike any they had encountered before. It was thick, armoured, and imposing. This was it, the elusive control centre they had been searching for over a month, amidst endless storage closets and a solitary cafeteria.

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The facility was coming online, its ancient systems whirring back to life. The scientists, oblivious to the impending shift, the facility had finally come online, sending an emergency signal out into the vast expanse of unexplored space.

==--==

The bridge of the U.H.C. London, a colossal vessel stretching a staggering one and a half kilometres long, thrummed with activity. Ensign Ramirez, fresh-faced full of enthusiasm, stammered, “Sir, we’ve just picked up a transmission from the surface. It was too fast for us to intercept. Last heading was out towards unexplored space. It came from the stasis facility those scientists are exploring”

Rear Admiral Matthew Cooker, a seasoned veteran of countless campaigns, remained unfazed. “Calm yourself, Ensign,” he said coolly. “There’s not much we can do about it now. Send a message to the lab and tell them whatever they’ve touched, they best leave it alone. I’d rather not piss off the aliens with a forty million year head start.”

The U.H.C. London, the newest heavy carrier in the U.H.C. Navy’s arsenal, was a floating city, a testament to the U.H.C.’s ambition and technological prowess. It housed a crew of ten thousand, not including the fighter and bomber wings or the U.H.C. Army personnel.

“Message from the lab, sir,” Ensign Ramirez announced. “They say the head researcher believes he’s finally found the control room for the stasis facility. They’re also requesting help to breach the door.”

A sly grin spread across Cooker’s face. “Send a message to the Major General. He should have a group on planet-side rotation. Tell him the scientists need his help to open a door.”

“Aye sir, message sent.”

“Good man, now get back to it. I want to know if any more transmissions come from that facility. I don’t want to be surprised again.” Cooker leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the star-studded expanse beyond the view port. “If all goes well, we should be home in thirteen months, and then I’m stuck in an office for my last couple of years in service.”

He sighed, a hint of weariness in his voice. “It’s a shame, really. I’d rather be out here, facing the unknown, than shuffling paperwork in some stuffy headquarters.”

==--== 2 weeks later

The sky ripped open. Two hundred ships, a malevolent tide, materialised from hyperspace, leaving behind a shimmering scar of disrupted energy. Each vessel was a jagged, angular behemoth, a testament to its singular purpose: annihilation.

“Two hundred new contacts, sir!” the sensor technician shouted. “They dropped in just past the asteroid belt.”

“Confirmed, sir,” the second technician chimed in, his voice tight. “One database hit, but it’s behind a security clearances I’ve never seen.”

They were outnumbered, outgunned, but Rear Admiral Cooker wouldn’t go down easy. “BATTLE STATIONS!” he roared. “Get those transports out of my landing bay and onto the planet. I want everyone off this rock. Open task force comms — tell them to assume defensive postures.”

The ship shuddered as alarms blared, the automated intercom echoing the order: battle stations. Not a drill. The shields hummed to life, a hexagonal glow enveloping the vessel before fading into a subtle shimmer.

“Atlas reports ninety per cent of stations manned, sir,” the commander Lera said, his voice clipped. “One hundred per cent within minutes.”

Atlas, the U.H.C. Defence Ministry’s first digital sentience would manage the carrier’s point defence and counter electronic warfare.

“Comms, transmit our lexicons. We need them to understand us. Send a message demanding their reason for intrusion. Tell them to turn around or face our response.”

“Done, sir.”

“Good. Everyone into vac suits. We’re purging the atmosphere.”

The bridge fell silent as the air was evacuated, leaving only the hum of machinery and the hiss of oxygen masks. Communication now relied on hard-wired lines, their voices muffled by the suits.

“Response received, sir. marking the ship it came from”

The response was a helmet cam video, showing two-metre tall reptillian humanoids striding through the streets of a human colony, slaughtering everyone in their path. Men, women, children – none were spared from the horrific carnage they unleashed upon this world.

The next video was directly addressed to the ships above Yadvek.

“You see what awaits you unworthy ones, we will scour you from the universe.” it spat. This one differed from the ones it saw on the video. It was short and fat and reminded the rear admiral of a monkfish from earth.

==--== On Yadvek

The air was filled with the deafening blare of klaxons, their shrill cries echoing through the colony as robotic voices barked orders for everyone to make their way to the landing zone. “Leave everything behind,” they commanded, “except what’s essential for survival.”

Sergeant Alfaro, a veteran of the last colony wars , addressed his squad, his voice a steely calm amidst the chaos. “Heads up, Word is we’ve got a whole fleet of incoming ships and they’re expecting ground landings. We’re linking up with the army and planetary defence, forming a combined force. We stick together, show these ground pounders how the marines fight. Oorah!”

“Oorah, Sergeant!” his team responded in unison, their voices a chorus of defiance and determination.

The marines, clad in their combat gear, stood ready, their faces grim but resolute. They knew the next days would be hell, but they were prepared to face whatever threat emerged from orbit.

The colony, once a bustling hub of activity, was now a ghost town, its streets deserted except for the occasional figure hurrying towards the landing zone. The air hung heavy with tension, a palpable sense of dread that permeated every corner of the settlement.

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