The President nodded grimly, glancing past the camera briefly as one of his agents held up a message. Looking back into the lens, he spoke softly, seeming distracted, ‘We will have to continue on alone then…’ The picture flickered once more, the man sighing, ‘What is the expected enemy response?’
Sky Commander Petaski swallowed deeply, realising he was about to communicate directly with several of earth’s leaders, ‘I believe they will destroy several of the missiles in the high atmosphere and probably will have done so by now…the rest will be allowed to impact against their shields, or be destroyed in space…’ Petaski grimaced, his voice rising slightly, ‘It will be some time before the radiation reaches the lower levels, so we have time to prepare for casualties…it really depends on how many they destroy and of what strength they are.’
The President leant forward with intrigue, ‘Is there any chance of success…I mean, should we launch too? Is there a possibility more missiles could destroy these ships?’
The Sky Commander shook his head, straightening his uniform further as he realised the other leaders were watching him intently, ‘Very unlikely, there will be very little damage if any…these are far less effective weapons than the more advance explosives and technology we can deploy. Most of our technology can now prevent the use of such weapons or even…’ His voice tailed off, realising he had said too much.
The US leader’s eyes widened as he glanced round, ‘Pease continue...or even what?’
Petaski stared back into the lens, ‘The Morgons and we have the jamming and intercept ability to override your controls, to even use your own missiles against you.’ He spoke further, realising the leaders were staring nervously at his image, ‘I doubt the enemy will do this…they have more to gain by destroying these rockets.’
The French President interjected, his accent strong, ‘What can we do against these enemy ships then? What course of action is open to us, if any?’
The Sky Commander nodded, eager to provide more detail, ‘The Morgon shields are extremely powerful and resilient, your missiles are designed to explode within your atmosphere…the ones that detonate in space will still create radiation, but spread in far less concentration than the ones that explode nearer to your planet’s surface.’ He nodded, ‘There will be a spectacular light display, but little other than that…what it will do is create widespread panic…initiate psychological warfare against your population. Once they see the dramatic explosions, they will presume the air is radiated…poisonous.’
The Italian Prime Minister raised his arms in exasperation, ‘There is nothing but bad news! Half of Italy will not move from prayers…the Vatican has never seen so many people, the roads are all blocked with traffic. The other half of the population are partying like there is no tomorrow…all night and day.’ He shook his head in frustration, ‘We have seen no attacks yet, but many reports we have to respond to…what will happen if the enemy does land?’
The German leader interrupted, ‘Let us be unified…I have just received news that our combined special forces have driven back the enemy in the Ukraine, protecting the road to Kiev and the south…we must be grateful for any tactical advantage whilst we consider a plan to stop and defeat this menace. Germany has bolstered defences along the Baltic coast and we have sent troops to support Poland and France…we must all do the same. Increase our security and assist our immediate neighbours…’ She continued, ‘Perhaps if we can slow this enemy as we have done in France…open a dialogue even?’
The US President pinched the end of his nose, his patience thinning, ‘This is all well and good, but America has suffered enormous casualties…our western seaboard has virtually disappeared and I am receiving reports of the possible fall of New York and Miami…there is heavy fighting in Boston and we have no realistic picture from the west, other than that Las Vegas is being bombed. Contact has been lost with several of our other communication bunkers across the United States and we must presume that these have fallen also. I therefore consider our options for dialogue are extremely limited if non-existent!’
The leader stared directly into the camera, ‘I have to advise this facility will soon be under direct attack…enemy vessels are circling above and we have recently received news that fighting has erupted near one of the compound’s entrances, that they already have troops landed nearby.’ He straightened, jaw tensing, ‘We believe we can hold out for a number of days…prevent the enemy from initially entering if we close the facility down.’
The image flickered once more, the President sighing deeply, ‘If there is a solution or even the chance of a stalemate…a temporary reprieve even, we will have to find it very soon…there seems to be little time left now.’
Warning lights flashed across the dimly lit bridge on one of the Morgon Decimator Warship, shrieks of alarm coming from the grey helmeted controllers as the target of several hundred converging missiles below became evident to the extensive ship’s computers. The sparkling helmets turned to stare at their commander, the white armoured figure leaning forward slightly from a wide raised seat behind, red eyes gleaming from the eye sockets in relish.
The figure gradually sat back, two grey armoured Morgons stood either side, their uniforms etched with yellow and red rank markings, the white helmeted commander nodding briefly before a low clicking and shriek was emitted, the two senior operators stepping forward in unison to raised consoles, their boots clumping on the steel deck. Armoured fingers swept across the two upright defensive screens, the commander indicating for his other operators to resume their duties as he reached onto the wide armrest, flicking several
