Chapter Six.

Captain Casious Clegg, known to his men as Triple C and TC, or as his friends call him, just Clegg. Watching the hidden cameras positioned around the quarantined sector 'Manhattan', a smile on his face as he thinks about his strategic battle against the aliens, taking a deep drag of his New Cuban cigar, tasting its smoothness as he exhales the thick smoke in a triumphant ring. Followed by a heavy gagging cough for air, not his usual taste, but he would become accustomed to such privileges, oh how high society live.

The door opens and a young man enters holding a clipboard, moving up to the Captain, standing to attention with his hand in a solute to show his respect to the well known hero of the Alien War. "Captain Clegg..."

"Call me TC soldier, what is your name boy?!" And his smile shot out at the young soldier. Clegg laughed thinking that the kid was probably still in diapers, shit stains included.

"Frank Sir, Franklin Sebastian II... Junior... Third-class marine, Information Specialist." This was just funny, Clegg was laughing on the inside. This poor kid, a info catcher, what a sad role to play in this war for Earth. But everyone was important, so he would still have respect for the kid, just that his job was not really needed, just someone who got the details from someone else and they have to pass it on, a messenger, always ready to be shot for giving any type of news, good or bad. The old saying, 'I am just the messenger.." Something along those lines anyway.

"At ease Frank, what can I do for you?" A simple question, hoping for a quick simple none-chaotic answer. But with the alien threat becoming once again a problem, nothing was quick and simple, apart from death if one of those fuckers got you.

The soldiers soluted hand moved to his side, relaxing for the first time that day, the long forty hour day that he had been on, dull and ever so boring on his long watcher shift. "Xenomorphs have been acting strangely in Sector 5b, just outside the New Hope entrance gate." Reading from the paper on the clipboard he handed it over to his superior. "Sensors have picked up a cloaked ship leaving the site. Scans read the ship to be clean..."

"Have the ship scanned again and sent to Ethian-5... Can you read what is on the boat?" Cleggs eyes lit up, something had got past his scanners, on entry, someone at the Spaceport was going to fry for this, probably some little snot punk sleeping when he should of been working hard, keeping his eye on the screen. Yet Clegg was not really angry, you cannot catch them all, someone would come to Earth now and again, you can't waste time catching them all. "Franklin, boy, send this note to General Matherson."

And with the note Clegg was handed him, he soluted one last time and was given permission to make haste and deliver the note to the General. Clegg looked at the chart on the clipboard Frank hand given to him, he knew that ships could get past, but the activity scale was overly unacceptable, someone was still in the sector after the boat jumped orbit. And alien confrontation was nearly minimal nowadays in Manhattan, something that was not right was happening, and that is when Clegg re-lit his cigar and let out a heavy disgruntled cough, taking his eyes back to the security cameras.

. . .

Guy kept watching the Spears work, and after what seemed like days, nothing had been happening. Whatever they had been doing must be done and anything involving alien eggs can only be trouble. The last time anyone had left them any food had nearly been three days and Demetri was just being humane, the evil side of humane. And they grew more hungry with each passing hour. Guy kept his eyes on Stephen, who only a couple of hours ago began to pass out.

The faint light that kept the cell lit flickered, then a high pitched alarm echoed from outside the cell. That could only mean that someone had breached the hidden entrance, and no Spear would ever find that. Then as Stephen jumped up to the sound coming from outside, that is when Guy realised what was wrong, it was the aliens, they were here. And he was stuck in this damn room, wanting to help the children, hoping that Francis will do something to protect them, but his life was probably worth more than theirs, so it was up to him to get out and put the aliens down.

"Guy, what's going on?" Stephens voice trembled as he stood up and hurried over to Guy standing at the door, his fists pressed up against the cold heavy and very hard metal. He was stuck, he could do nothing but hope for their safety.

"Aliens, they have most probably got into the tunnels. All the Spear activity, harvesting the eggs, and no doubt they had some captives ready for impregnation." Guy still facing the door, trying to listen to what was happening outside the door, his right ear up close to the coldness that kept them trapped. "We will be safe in here." He hoped as he kept his ear to the door, listening.

WHAM!... Guy jumped back, almost falling over Stephen, well balanced he stayed on his feet.

CLANK!... Stephen ran to the far corner of the room moving close to the floor curling himself up into a protected ball, whimpering loudly.

THUNT!... Stepping close to Stephen, Guy reached down and put his hand on the boys shoulder, grabbing him, shaking him to be quiet. Knowing what the heavy thumping on the other side of the door was, but not even a dent was seen, they were safe for now. The thick heavy door protected them from the monster trying to get in, and for those few moments, Guy thanked God for his mercy for holding the door.

. . .

Franklin Sebastian Junior was walking rather quickly, standing tall at just over six foot, with heavy footsteps due to his rather large stomach, almost running to the Generals office. The kid had been in boot camp for only a few months up until he was called into the Manhattan Conflict. He accepted the fact earth had gone to hell and that after only a few years of winning it back, it was lost again. And all he wanted was to be with his family, but sadly they were light years away on the Orion space station, at least they were safe. Knowing the aliens and how they destroy everything, one of them probably got to the space station and killed everyone.

Ever since everything turned to shit, there was nothing but sadness in every ones eyes, and Sebastian could see this. He may only be a messenger boy but right now, but at least he was on the line and anything could happen, three weeks of boot camp could not train someone for this, unless of course that person was a psychopathic alien killer.

As Sebastian was only a few yards away from the Generals office he remembered some reports from previous alien encounters. Maybe the story of Corporal Wilks brought some inspiration and hope to his life, the aliens may of taken his home and a lot of his friends. He knew in his heart that they would not take his hope, that he kept held onto. And with that thought he took his final rushed steps to the office, and with a raise of his right hand he knocked on the door with a heavy thud.

"Come in!" The deep angry voice crept through the door, as if a hammer was hitting it hard. Sebastian was sure that he could feel wood splinters fly and stab into him, but he knew that no matter how loud a voice was, it could not break through a door. Silly little thoughts as he turned the door handle and walked in, already raising his hand into a salute, but not even a quick movement and given respect would bring a authoritical smile in to his direction.

The Generals office was dull grey, with almost burnt pine looking furniture. His desk covered a large area of the room and was neatly presented. There were only a few pictures in the office, one being of a twentieth century cityscape and the other being one of his family, long since deceased, some of the first to have disappeared in the second Manhattan attack, but from stories Sebastian had heard, the General was not really the family type, never leaving the complex, always deeply into his work.

He had to feel sorry for the man, sitting in his uncomfortable looking red leather chair, the only colour in the room. He was overly overweight and was balding, a frown always on his flat unhappy looking face. He spent most of his time just sitting in his office commanding the troops from voice-com and holo-screen, he did not wish to walk the station and be friendly with the grunts, he thought himself better than that, every ones superior.

"What do you want boy?" The Generals voice echoed around the empty looking room, somewhat depressing and scarily non-tranquil. And Sebastians' momentary salute fell down as he took a step closer to the Generals desk, he could feel his stomach turning, was it his nerves or the strange smell coming from where the General was sitting, a slight intake of extra air and he replied.

"Captain Clegg asked me to deliver this note to you, he said it was urgent and would need your uttermost attention." That was a scary thing for him to say, telling a General that a Captain wanted him to do something, he was just the messenger and he could see the Generals face begin to boil and when the red face closed his eyes for a slight second, it gave Sebastian just enough time to take a quick step away from the desk, luckily the General did not notice, he was too busy trying to breathe and count to ten.

And then a sudden reaction that Sebastian was not expecting as the General begun to read the note, his eyes opened wide, his breathing became slightly deeper, almost reaching out for more oxygen, and then came a reply to what Sebastian had said to him.

"Thank you Sebastian." Could this be, he not only remembered his name but he said 'thank you', something must really be wrong that the General would act this way. "Boy, carry on with your duties." Was that it, deliver a note of such importance and get back to work, now he wanted to know what was on the note, but right now, he did not want to displease the General, as he looked at the man who was now reaching for the bottom drawer of his desk. "Get out of my office now boy!"

Sebastian had not moved so fast in his life, he was out of the office and up the corridor so fast he could feel that he had left his body in the office and his legs were just running, but he now had time to relax, so he stopped for a few breathes. Leaning against the walls he almost gasped for air, he needed a drink so he stood up and breathed as normally as possible and headed into the direction of the mess-hall, and as he was almost at the first corner away from the Generals office...

...BANG!

The chair was no longer the only thing with colour now in the Generals office.

. . .