DISCLAIMER: I do not own Stargate or any of other universes I'm going to crossover with…
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Inspired by StarGate: Galactic Imperium » by VexMaster.
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Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, review! Even if you hate this story and want it burned for heresy, tell me. Give me your opinions, suggestions, criticism, hate mail and fan mail! PLEASE!
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Also read this: Clash of Empires... co-written with VexMaster.
Also read this: Stargate: Galactic Imperium… written by VexMaster
Also read this: Golden Dawn... written by Amann
Also read this: War of Gods and Men... written by Amann
Also read this: The Raid of the Twelve Colonies... written by me
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Go to my Forum if you have any ideas or anything you want to say!
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Here's the revision! Hope you enjoy and, once more, I am sorry for canceling my previous story. To all, sorry.
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Then the fifth angel sounded, and I saw a star from heaven which had fallen to the earth; and the key of the bottomless pit was given to him. He opened the bottomless pit, and smoke went up out of the pit, like the smoke of a great furnace; and the sun and the air were darkened by the smoke of the pit. Then out of the smoke came locusts upon the earth, and power was given them, as the scorpions of the earth have power
Revelation 9:1-3
The Holy Bible
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"Jesus Christ!"
Henri Jaeger blinked, slowing down on the exercise bike. No one had sounded that surprised on the Ares II since lift off from the International Space Station four months ago. Mellissa, their communication officer, stared at the radar screen with a look of surprise. "Freddie," she yelled, hollering down the short corridors of the tiny and cramped space ship.
Fredrick Winters, the ships electronics expert, had just gotten out of the cramped shower space. He dove for the control board, a stream of water droplets floating behind her. He didn't bother with a towel; modesty had long since gone out of style on the Ares.
Mellissa's shout had even caused Jean-Luc Jonnard to stick his head out of the little biology lab he spent half his time in. "What's wrong," he called from the down the hatchway.
"Radar's gone to hell."
"What do you mean, 'gone to hell'?" Jonnard demanded.
"There are a hundred, maybe a hundred fifty, objects on the screen that have no god damn right being there," Freddy answered, staring intently at the screen. "Range appears to be a couple of millions kilometers. Strange thing is they weren't there a minute ago."
"What?"
"What do you mean," Jaeger shouted.
"I mean they just suddenly appeared," Mellissa replied back hotly. "I did holler when they showed up."
As Freddy fiddled with the radar and computer, and Mellissa floated to the comm. console to talk to Command, Jaeger stayed on the bike, feeling very useless. What good was a geologist millions of kilometers from any rocks? He wouldn't even get his name in the history books – no one remembers the crew of the second expedition to anywhere, after all.
They weren't important.
Fredrick finished his checks. "There's nothing wrong," he said, sounding angry at him and the equipment both. "Get a horn down to Command Mellissa. I can't land this beast on Mars if the Radar's gone frizzy on us after all," he said, rubbing the back of his head.
"Already on it Freddy."
She cleared her thought. "Houston, this is Ares II. We have a problem-"
Even at light-speed, there were a good many minutes of waiting. They crawled past, one by one. He, everyone, jumped, when the speaker crackled to life. "Ares II, this is Houston Control. Ladies and gentlemen, I don't know how to tell you this, but we see 'em too."
The communicator kept on talking, but no one was listening to her anymore. Jaeger felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand, and shuddered, a sudden chill going down his spine. God, was it really what every astronaut thought about, what every scientist dreamed of?
First contact?
"Call them, Mel," he urged.
She hesitated, unsure. "Maybe Houston should handle this."
"Screw that," he said, surprising himself. "By the time the bureaucrats down there say yes or no, we'll be landing down on Mars! We're here, and we have the right to stop throwing away the most important moment in human history! This is our time in the light!"
Mellissa hesitated, but saw the looks of her crewmembers. She sighed and began to speak: "This is Ares II of the International Space Agency, calling to the unknown ships approaching to Earth. We welcome you in the name of Earth, from the people of the Earth." She turned off the transmitter for a moment. "How many languages do you guys know?"
Russian, Mandarin, Japanese, French, German, Spanish, Greek, and even Latin, went out. If the reply from Houston had been a painfully long time, this one was far, far worse. The delay stretched, passed the twenty second speed-of-light delay. "Even if they don't understand," Fredrick muttered. "Shouldn't they at least say something back to us?"
It didn't get them answer.
Then, one by one, the strange ships which had been simply floating began darting sunward, toward Earth. "My god, the acceleration! Those aren't rockets," Jaeger shouted. He barely realized that starships would use rockets, especially ships that were this big.
Before he could say anything else, before they could do anything more, the alarms on the International Spaceship blared for a second, giving everyone a single warning before their deaths.
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It had happened so quickly, so suddenly, no one expected it all. The cities of New York, Chicago, Paris, Moscow, Madrid, Cairo, Beijing, Sydney, Lima, La Paz, Tehran, New Delhi, and a hundred others were already in flames when everyone realized what was going on to them. By the third hour of the attack, Skyscrapers had toppled, apartments exploded, bridges collapsed, and forests were consumed as pillars of black smoke speared the sky, fouling the air.
The nations of Earth, this Earth, wasted no time bickering amongst each other, hurling accusations and curses at each other, wasting precious minutes as their satellites and their few orbital defenses were shot down. The Hubble Telescope and International Space Station were the first to be destroyed.
The precious minutes, the precious hour the two hundred or so governments of Earth wasted, two countries had already launched missiles at each other. When the nature of the threat had been realized, and they tried to abort, it had already been too late: And so the cities of Bombay and Islamabad vanished under the plume of the raging fire of a mushroom cloud.
The truth was that the attack originated in space, from the void of blackness where man had just begun to venture. A void filled with dangers that man, so barely knew and ignored in the hopes for a peaceful new frontier. Monsters, the same that children so wisely feared, whom people had shouted that were coming, that were here living amongst them, had finally arrived to claim a new world for their own, a new colony for themselves.
They had been astonished by the sheer number of sentient beings on a single plant, more than they could tame. Save for themselves, never had they encountered such an overpopulated and powerful species. Fear overcame their desire for living space, and they undertook drastic action.
And so to instill fear and control, to maintain order and impose themselves upon their prey and slaves, more than 4 billion died in less than twelve hours. To say that the human population had been decimated would have been a lie: it was far worse for a single reason:
The alien Motherships, three kilometers in length, spawned fleets of smaller crafts that descended down upon the helpless planet. Great droves were destroyed from the jagged space debris that covered the planet, but hundreds more descended across the globe.
For Robert Swan Mueller III, co-director of the FBI, it was his last sight. Running out of the J. Edgar Hoover Building, it was the sight of a large saucer-shaped ship with two boxy nacelles at the sides, a large pyramid-shaped body on top of it, the saucer blending into it. The alien ship, the size of two Nimitz-class Supercarriers's, systematically destroyed entire city blocks
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He didn't have time to give orders.
A shadow descended over the FBI Headquarters, and the alien ship, whose bottom was scrapped by the tower, vaporized the entire building and everything surrounded it in a second.
For a student named Alexander Reed, whose name and power would surpass that of all, who had just left High School on his way back home, it would be the gust of wind and smell of burning flesh, of the thick taste of coppery blood and the sight of a crater where his block, his house, his family, had been before. And the realization, as the alien ship that blasted everything around it, blasted away his life and his family, he was now alone.
Sitting on the emptied road, cars abandoned and totaled around him, as students from his school and people from everywhere ran for their lives, the invasion having reached them, he ran without realizing it.
He was alone.
The scene was repeated across the world.
The Sphinx and Pyramids of Giza was reduced to rubble.
The Empire State building was twisted glass.
The Great Wall was a great pile of rocks.
The Eiffel tower? Nothing of it was left.
The White House was a ransacked room.
Nothing was left.
Three hours into the alien invasion, a cliché so repeated in science fiction, the acting world governments, those who still had a government to lead them, reacted with such a fury.
The United States, reeling but spearhead the assault despite the loss of Air Force One and Two, launched its vast arsenal of nuclear weapons. An alien warship over the ruins of Seattle was struck by several nuclear devices, tearing through the armor of the ship and tearing it apart.
Russia unleashed the terrible fury it had so long contained, upon its new enemy. Volgograd and an alien ship vanished in the plume of nuclear disaster as every nuclear country committed the greatest atrocities mankind would know in the name of survival and freedom.
Reaction came at a great speed. Every nuclear weapon was intercepted by alien aircraft and missiles. By the eighth hour, the body pile grew as human civilization was wasted. Millions of soldiers across the world, thousands of Tanks and aircraft forged onward as they fought desperately in an uphill battle. With a fury unmatched, the alien's slaughtered all in their way.
Blood covered the landscape.
By the twelfth hour, it was over.
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As soon as Reed walked into his house, he saw his mom sitting at the table. He heard his sister on the computer upstairs, typing away. He walked over to his Mom and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Hello Mami!"
His Mami, shorter than he was, smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Good afternoon, Alexander" she said.
He dropped his backpack next to the table and walked to the fridge, taking out a quart of milk. He reached into the cupboards next to the fridge and took out fruit loops, along with a bowl. "What's for dinner," he asked after he put the milk back, getting a spoon as he came back.
"Chicken."
His mom was watching TV.
Reed felt his spirits damper.
He hated chicken.
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He blinked.
He felt his heart beat faster and faster as he thought back to the day before the aliens had come. It hadn't been the best last day with his family. He had gotten into a fight with his brother, Ricardo, and cursed at his sister. He hadn't meant it; he hadn't meant to say it to his sister…
He felt his eyes burn.
He never even got to say sorry.
He yawned, covering his mouth as he stretched, the covers dropping and pooling around his lap. He looked around the alien room, barren except for the bed that had left behind and the small desk in the opposite corner. The shades were closed, since he didn't want anyone to see him.
Human or alien.
Avoiding aliens was obvious. But avoiding humans? People collaborated with the aliens, looking for other people for the aliens to enslave. It was a sad and pathetic thing to do, betraying your race. But human history was full of things like that, and unity seemed to be old news.
As he put on the clothes he wore yesterday, fresh clothes he had found rummaging through the houses on 39 North Road. A lot of the houses had either been ransacked or emptied out by its owners. In a few cases, he found a body lying, killed by either the robbers or owners. He avoided those houses, unless he saw something that could be useful. But seeing the dead bodies freaked him out.
He had found a few pants, most too big for him but he used a belt to at least try and make 'em fit, and used a scissor to make them smaller. He had a few shirts, male and female, and a boots that were a size too big. He had made sure that no one would see him when he went out scavenging for things. He took anything he could find, anything that could be useful. He was a spoiled kid; he didn't know how to make a fire without a match, or how to really cook (would he have to hunt?)
He shivered as he went out, wearing a black jacket with a cap and gloves on. Even though it was summer up here, the temperature had seriously dropped, with the smoke and ashes rising into the atmosphere. The clouds were a murky color, and had an effect on his spirit.
He shivered.
He wondered how silly he looked, with a hammer he'd found (he'd found a lot of tools,) in his hand, slowly walking in the shadows or running across the street, trying to be careful not to get seen.
He felt awkward when doing it.
He wondered, though, as he ran to a house he hadn't been too before, the door still there, closed, and the windows cracked, how good would a hammer be against a Bugger, the name he called the aliens. A brief thought wondered what they called themselves, but… really, how effective? Maybe the hammer would hurt them, or knock them out, but those pincers could cut him in half, and they carried guns. Giant guns that fired bullets that would tear his arm off alone.
He gulped.
He tested the door knob, and pushed the door open-which made him nervous right there. Holding his hammer tightly, he walked in the darkened house, the light from the second floor windows, the kitchen window, and the now opened door, leaking in, giving an ominous air. In the movies, something would usually jump out and try to kill him, or the door would shut behind him with a sudden gust of wind, and he would be hunted by some monster that would try to kill him. But this wasn't a movie, and he wasn't some hero that could take down an entire army. He was just a nobody, and he couldn't do anything for anyone.
He went upstairs; to look for any sheets or clothes, maybe running water-he didn't get his hopes up- or something. He found a couple of books (romance novels-great-) a desk that he didn't need, an old TV, some pillow, but empty. He was surprised by that. Usually, in the horror movies or the after-the-end-of-the-world-movies he'd watch, houses would he crammed with stuff people left behind, like furniture and mountains of clothes and food and games and stuff.
Maybe he was just unlucky though, he thought.
He went back down, into the kitchen. He found some food, but all of it was spoiled already. He found some apples still in the shopping bag in the dining room, some cook books, and a bunch of small statues, including one of Buddha. He went downstairs, and he felt a chill go up his spine.
There was a pair of window that let in a dim bar of light on one side of the room, on his right. But even that dim bar was enough to illuminate the basement, which made it worse. The basement wasn't the prettiest thing in the world; he saw the pipes on the ceiling. He did a quick look around, saw nothing that he could use, and ran straight back upstairs.
Click-cli-click-click-kkk-cl-ick-cl-ic-ccick…
He froze, just as the door, his hand at the door knob, ready to open it. The chill back and he suddenly felt cold inside.
Click-cli-click-click-kkk-cl-ick-cl-ic-ccick…
"Fuck," he whispered.
Buggers.
His hand dropped, and the hammer hung loosely in his other hand. He shook his head and, slowly, trying not to make too much noise, made his way to a large window (without shades,) and peered through the edge.
There…
Four Buggers, skittering slowly down the street. Their backs were turned to him, and the sun seemed to reflect off their glassy shells.
Click-cli-click ick-cl-ic click-kkk-cl…
Cl-ick-kkk-cc-iic…
The aliens continued walking down, not realizing he was watching them. He wanted to know what they were saying. Even more so, he wanted to run out and bash their skulls in with his hammer, stab 'em in the eye with a knife, make them suffer, make them all suffer!
Yes…
SUFFER!
He watched the alien insects vanish from view the entire time. Not taking any chances of being caught and hauled off to some alien death camp, he waited to see if anymore of the aliens would come. He waited for a few minutes, but all that happened was that the dirtied clouds drifted away, and the sun vanished behind a cloud, and then reappeared afterwards.
He went back out, back against the wall of the house. He turned his head around the corner, to the street, and didn't see anything. So far, everything was going good, he was safe. He ran the down to his 'house' like a madman, wheezing by the time he threw open the door, slamming it shut behind him.
He winced at the door slammed loudly.
What if the Buggers heard that?
As a temporary measure, he locked the door.
His breathing seemed loud, and felt himself shake.
Did they hear him slam the door? As the minutes passed, each longer than the last one, he relaxed. They hadn't heard him, he was still safe. He sighed and laughed at himself.
He would live!
At least, for today. So depressing….
But beyond him, beyond his comprehension, a greater being, a being of pure power and greatness, manipulated his fate. The dawn of what would become the greatest Empire in known history, began.
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
Reed heard the 'BOOM's' before he saw them, and looked outside of the cracked window. His mouth dropped as he saw a fireball, the flames flaying around it, a strange green wisp trailing behind it. It was huge, and, to make things worse, it was coming straight at him! He screamed as he ran outside, not caring if the fucking buggers found him.
'I DON'T WANT TO DIE!'
The flaming ball smashed into his house, utterly obliterating it and digging into the ground, creating a jagged trench behind it.