The large vessel was slowing, beginning to adopt a high orbit above earth, the vast lower circular section still spinning as it countered and adapted to the stressed environment of a new solar system, the immense ship’s computers deciphering and scanning the battle of extermination below. A request was immediately sent for several differing human victims to be transported as delicacies for the ravenous crew and new soldiers…they wished to determine which meat was the most suitable for consumption amongst their armoured soldiers, experimentation on the human subjects and an investigation of cloning to follow…a potential glory and prestige to be gained in locating the most suitable food for cloning and cultivation back on the Morgon home and conquered worlds.
The Silakian ‘scientists’ had been briefed only once, informed to have the Black Death Battalion ready for combat upon reaching earth…the Morgons needed soldiers for further brutal expansion and to finally conquer the Trevakians…no matter where these combatants came from. Only the Morgon overall commander knew the full details, his Silakian scientists, mentally contorted by radiation and psychological experimentation had been busy around the clock, the torment of the super soldiers only providing a side motivation to their perversions. They had been fully engaged on an even more gruesome project, something to be yet unleashed…human flesh to be the ultimate target…something yet to be revealed.
Alongside the ‘Death Station’, a Morgon Decimator Warship had slowed and then gradually halted to offer protection, the warship orbiting opposite expected to assume a similar orbit, initial communication challenges expected.
On the planet’s surface below, hundreds of dropships and fighters arrived from the warships, depositing supplies, further resources prepared to be also despatched from the Black Star, supplies and fresh troops landing across the globe as the Morgons readied to attack at will…to destroy and liquidate the resistance of billions of terrified people as soon as possible, then return to a war of attrition several galaxies away.
The shattered blue planet below would be brutally colonised for mineral and meat resources…many of which would come from the surviving defeated and enslaved populace.
The Morgon commanders were also under pressure to achieve the ultimate result…and quickly.
Chapter Twenty Nine: Viper Onslaught
Flight Officer Anjara stiffened uneasily in his cockpit, the cushioned suit attempting to quell the pain it sensed through his frame, potent anaesthetic seeping through his pores as his muscles and body ached irritatingly, his mind conflicted as if faced with continuous itching he could not scratch. His senses spiralled as the agony continually surged through him, the points of tension and muscle spasms only countered after the reinforced suit located the next area of dull rising strain.
Staring upwards through the reinforced clear resin above, his chest filled with longing, warm emotions surging through him as distant stars sparkled above, the intense void blackness of space always seeming to merge with his inner psyche, taunting him as if a mischievous lover, the tinges of adrenalin twitching in his stomach and limbs. Pushing himself painfully upwards, he looked down, the flickering outline of the silver craft emblazoned with a snake’s face about to strike, fangs extended outwards, the vision below stealing his breath away as he saw the deep blue planet outline ahead, clouds and the outlines of continents barely visible along with grey lower formations, the dust clouds from the planet’s obvious sustained damage and human pain invoking gritted teeth and determination.
Glancing across the flight instruments as he winced, an irritated smile gradually formed across his face, one of the small screens displaying the outline of an enhanced and highly powered fighter, the working networks flashing, the image to indicate possible damage or recommend diversions of power. The considerable journey from Zaxon B had provided adequate time for the small fleet of newly designated Viper vessels to be upgraded, all now equipped with the latest laser guns, newly designed torpedoes and nose cannon along with a powerful cloaking device and enhanced engine power.
The sleek craft swept forward in cloaked formation, newly upgraded engines humming in unison as Anjara glanced round, only glimpsing slight distortion in the dark space, the other fighter’s invisible to his sight as the nine other vessels surged towards the enormous Morgon warship ahead. Flicking a hand across the controls before him, he shuffled uncomfortably in the combat seat, feeling heat emitted from the padded resin behind to sooth his aching posterior and back, the covert communications channel opening as lights flashed, a warning with reducing timer indicating the short time he had to speak before the frequency was automatically readjusted to ensure continued concealment.
Clearing his throat as he winced once more, he felt the adrenalin levels beginning to surge through his frame as before, an old familiar excitement gradually returning, his breath becoming shallower as he spoke determinedly, ‘We uncloak just before the enemy vessel…strafe the target coordinates and then spiral downwards, readying to meet the Morgon craft that will surely respond. Stay with our predetermined coordinates…other vessels will be firing as we attack…deviate and we die!’
He glanced at the displays below, seeing the on-board reconnaissance computer report several smaller craft were leaving the target vessel, the flickering description denoting drop ships with several life signs aboard, his lips tensing in pain and rising excitement…combined with an old and familiar engulfing emotion, resolute hatred, ‘Complete the run and then close on their transports…blast them from space, every single one! Once they know Vipers are near, we will become very busy…we sweep into the lower atmosphere, keep going and let the following Fahimians destroy our tails…chase down and destroy every enemy craft you see!’
The
