The War Machine

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
The first and introductory story in the Secret Earth Army/SEA series.

The SEA are five soldiers who are tasked with ridiculously dangerous missions to aid mankind's battle with the Galacticon Fall, a conglomerate of aliens who are hell-bent on destroying humanity! In this first adventure, they are tasked with destroying a robotics factory which may have the Galacticon Fall's most deadly weapon yet, but all is not as it seems...

Submitted: November 13, 2016

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Submitted: November 13, 2016

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Time was standing still, as Floyd often thought it did right before he nuked buildings out of the galaxy. As the youngest and newest recruit of the Secret Earth Army (or SEA as they all called it) this was the third building was tasked with destroying in the name of the cause in the two short months he had worked for them.
Floyd Mercury had been the best soldier the Anzac Forces had produced in the galactic battle for quite some time, and as Commander O’Neill was a massive advocate of ensuring his unit was from as many corners of the globe as possible, Floyd was right at the top of his shortlist of replacements for Guido after he never returned from the attempted salvage of the Starship Regret.
Floyd could not believe his luck when he was considered to be one of the top five soldiers Earth had to offer. SEA were the elite, the absolute best of the best. They were the premiere Earth unit when it came to battling the combined forces of the Galacticon Fall, a confederacy of any number of alien species trying to devastate the expanding Human Empire from reaching out all across the stars. And now Floyd was going to be one of them!
Of course, when you are positioned in a covert position not too far away from the robotics factory on Sbabalom Six and about to destroy it because the authority had “reason to suspect it had the latest weapon the Galaction Fall may or may not have been developing to wipe out humanity” it was really hard to get excited at the fact you were more than likely about to die.
Floyd took one look at his watch. 10:59. Mere seconds ticked away and then it was 11:00.
“Well, here goes nothing,” he stated to no one in particular. Then he triggered the nuke.
The reaction was instant. No sooner had Floyd hit the little button on the detonator he was carrying did the sky erupt into the brightest display of blue and white flame the workers of Sbabalom Six had ever seen.
The flames scorched across the land and sky, burning the metallic walls and buildings away with an ungodly ease, wiping out however many hundred Sbabalians with it. They didn’t even have time to scream.
Floyd could feel the burning intensity from where he was. He must have snaked his way through two miles of ludicrous defences and yet his skin still burned. He never looked directly at his work. Too much guilt. That and the fact if he looked at the fire it would probably blind him even from this distance.
Floyd’s transceiver crackled. “Lighting this place up like the Fourth of July! Nice going kid,” boomed a voice on the other end. Dallas Buchanan was second in command of SEA. A South Texan, he was an exceptional soldier and there was few things he enjoyed quite like total and utter destruction. “Now ya just gotta get yaself outta there without being killed, think you can do that newbie?”
Newbie. The word twisted in Floyd’s ears, how had he not done enough to justify his place on this team yet?
“Sure thing, Dal,” he replied, not nearly as convinced as his tone suggested, “Brake. Clock. You got me covered?”
After a brief pause the transceiver crackled again, “Absolutely,” boomed a deep voice on the other end. Oscar Brake was somewhat of a veteran now, but each time he stepped into battle he approached it with a vigour and enjoyment which could only be considered worrying.
“You just start running kid, we’ve got this. Aim for trees just South of you, we’re in a clearing some few hundred metres in. And hurry, the Sbabalians will be coming.”
Oscar Brake was right. Floyd could hear the creatures running for him. He knew he’d take most of them out in the blast but there would be survivors. And whilst the Sbabalian scientists were a cultured, intelligent race their war-dogs were truly savage. They looked like reptilian apes, bipedal creatures covered in blue scales with faces not too dissimilar to the wolves Floyd had once seen in a zoo back on Earth. But they had teeth and claws which could easily shred a man into pieces.
Floyd ran. He was barely at the tree line when the Sbabalian war-dogs were on him. He disappeared into the trees but he knew they had his scent. Cursing under his breath, he composed himself and focused on outrunning them. The monstrous creatures began scaling the trees, obviously preparing for some sort of ambush attack on him when piercing blue electric blasts sent them flying from the branches on which they were perched.
Oscar Brake and Mallory Clock had only one job right now. Make sure Floyd gets back alive. Easier said than done of course as the Sbabalians outnumbered them almost ten to one but that did not stop them from discharging their plasma rifles with ferocious tenacity, wiping every Sbabalian they could from the hunting pack.
Floyd had emerged from the clearing with three of the beastly things still behind him. Using the kind of training that kept him alive so far, he flung himself to the floor as fast as humanly possible, just quick enough that Brake’s blast missed him by what he was certain was millimetres and ruptured a hole straight through the Sbabalian’s heart.
The other two beasts were taken down swiftly by the two soldiers. For all the Sbablian war-dogs were a brutal and unforgiving race they were easily beaten by any weaponry the soldiers had, providing the used it in time and the beasts did not completely rip them to pieces.
Floyd was lying on the ground, his breath jaded and ragged. As always, he wasn’t sure how he got out of that situation but he was certainly glad he did. He wished he had the time to lie there just a fraction longer, but knew if he did death would once again become the only realistic outcome. He dragged himself to his feet with all the energy he had left before Mallory gave him a hand.
“Nice work Floyd, you did a good job back there,” Mallory said, with complete sincereness, “Oz, any word from Dallas on when we’re getting returned?”
Before Oscar had a chance to reply he was cut off by Dallas, “any second now. Just let me get this thing sorted and then...right! Hold tight.”
Dallas often said stupid things like that thought Floyd. Hold Tight. To what exactly? He knew from experience that the PDP (or the Particle Distributor Platform to give it its proper title) wasn’t the best way to travel, but it physically left the traveller with no choice but to pray that the person operating it knew exactly what they were doing and they would arrive safely at whatever place they were travelling to. Thankfully, a quick flash of white light later and Floyd, Mallory and Oscar were all back on the ship, all of them a massive amount more relieved than their faces suggested.
Dallas sat back at the control panel and quipped something about a safe journey which Floyd didn’t quite catch, transport via PDP was more often than not a really disorienting experience.
Oscar was the first to speak, “remind me again why you didn’t come on the mission again Dal?”
Buchanan snapped back almost instantly, “still waitin’ on the tissue repairin’ from the damage my damn leg took on that salvage mission. Don’t worry though princess, I’ll be back on the front line again in no time. Anyways, ya didn’t need my help did ya? Ya’ll back here okay.”
“Hey!” barked a voice somewhere in the cockpit of the Stella Salvation, the little starship which got SEA through their missions, “knock it off back there. We’ve got enough to worry about without you lot turning against each other.”
Commander Red O’Neill was about as good as a soldier could get. A total mastermind on all things warfare, there really was no other choice to lead the first line of Earth’s defence. A giant of a man, standing at somewhere around six foot four and built like an absolute tank, his mere presence could scare the enemy straight off the frontline sometimes.
“Sorry boss” Oscar gingerly replied. Oscar Brake himself was a huge imposing man, and to see him act like a timid schoolboy getting scolded was quite a sight to see.
“It’s alright. Just don’t let it happen again. Dallas, are we ready to get out of here?” Red asked.
“Just give me a minute, I’m sending the initial mission report back to the authority. Then we’ll get outta here.”
Floyd took his seat, he was ready for home now. There was scant else better than returning home from a mission, Floyd thought, even if it was just because of the simple fact he was alive.
A few moments later, the Stella Salvation was primed and ready to fly back towards the Earth, blasting out across the stars returning SEA back home. The factory was destroyed, with whatever hidden weapon the Sbabalians had concealed within it completely annihilated alongside it. Another mission successfully accomplished.

 

Back on Sbabalom Six, about ten clicks away from the site of the former robotics factory, several Sbablian scientists were stood at a window in a small well-concealed laboratory, watching the smoke from the explosion continue to rise. The Sbablian scientists were completely unrecognisable from the war-dogs. They looked much more human, apart from the three yellow eyes on their face and the gelatinous purple skin which made them wobble when they walked. They were also no more than three feet in height.
Eventually, one at the back piped up, “I cannot believe they fell for that.”
“Save your gloating for later, Kraxar” said the most important looking of the Sbabalian, “SEA will eventually know of our plan and I have no doubt they will be back. They have a nasty habit of that.” The last sentence almost tasted like poison in his mouth.
“Forgive me, Lord Wingus,” Kraxar replied, “it is just I do so enjoy it when our plans come to fruition.”
The party of Sbabalian scientists all walked away from the window, returning to their work. In the centre of the room stood a robotic figure. At least fifteen feet high, it gleamed like a copper colossus, towering over the diminutive Sbabalian. Even though they had created it and controlled it, it was far too difficult to not feel dread when looking at the robotic monster.
“Speaking of plans coming to fruition, do we really think this is ready to be used?” asked a female Sbabalian.
“Of course Trinita,” stated Lord Wingus, “the Bellum Addo is now almost completely ready. Soon, this absolute titan will revolutionise war as we know it. Tipping the scales forever in our favour against the Human scum, they will rue the day they ever dared try to enter the Sbabalian system. Kraxar, tell the Galacticon Fall that the new weapon will be with them in the next forty-eight hours.”
“At once, Lord Wingus” Kraxar replied obediently and off he went to perform his duties.
Another of the scientists stepped forwards at this point to replace Kraxar at Lord Wingus’ side. Tyxyl, his name was, had never wanted to question the imperial knowledge of Lord Wingus but this was one question he simply had to ask.
“Lord Wingus, I have a question about the Bellum Addo,” he said tentatively.
Lord Wingus looked at him with curiosity, “what is it Tyxyl?”
“You are the only scientist here with knowledge of the old language of Sbabalom II, and I have been wondering, what exactly does Bellum Addo mean?”
There was a pause as the scientists all turned towards Lord Wingus. They waited with baited breath as a dastardly grin crept across his face.
He surveyed his invention with pride, and responded;

“War Machine”.


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