Okay, so after a two week break from the Tales for absolutely no reason, here is the seventh installment. Don’t forget, these stories have no connection with each other whatsoever other than the setting of the universe. Oh, and don’t forget that Recon One-Five is free to download on kindle from midday UK time today!
As ever, don’t forget to leave a review!
It had been called something else once, before the Okarnagans came and began its inevitable downfall. Now neither names meant anything anymore, not to its people, and certainly not to the denizens of the rest of the universe. All thanks to the Okarnagans.
They had come with soothing words, the three governments of the world snapping up the opportunity for more power. Some had resisted, but not enough. Those that resisted were blamed for the resulting destruction of the planet’s cities. Ironically, they were the ones that survived.
The capital city was in ruins; smoke was still wafting across the skeletal remains. No building had been left untouched by the destructive hands of the massive red-and-black ships. Anything that wasn’t blackened by weapons fire was covered grey with ash. Bodies were strewn throughout.
Two figures were buried in rubble, barely able to move, one male, the other his wife. He was just waking up from unconsciousness, his hand firmly wrapped round his wife’s. He groaned with pain, before shifting his weight to get some purchase against the wood beams pinning him to the floor of what used to be their home.
He let go off his wife’s hand, and pushed against the beam.
He roared as he pushed with all his might, and then some.
The wood groaned as he managed somehow to push it off him. He turned to his wife, and used another beam to lever off the one pinning her. Using the right angle and strength, he managed to lever the thing off her.
She was sobbing, a combination of pain and the fear of the city falling on top of them.
“What happened?” she cried.
Her husband shook his head.
“The Okarnagans punishing us for resisting their rule,” he guessed. “We need to get to the hangars.” He fished out something that had previously been a bulge in his pocket. “I’ve still got the Terran friendship codes; maybe we can make it to Delta-Tango.”
He didn’t sound hopeful, though she didn’t seem to notice. She was bleeding, they both were, and she needed medical attention immediately.
“Come on,” he said, wrapping his arm around her. They struggled across the ruins of their city, aware that nothing else was moving, nor were there any sounds coming from the surrounding structures, besides creaking wood. There were no bird noises, no animals, nothing to indicate that anything else was alive.
He noticed, though, that there was a low humming noise. It was coming from all around them, and he could feel the vibrations through his every step, as if the ground were shaking.
“What is that?” his wife asked, struggling for breath. He was sure she had punctured a lung, her gurgled wheezing a strong indicator.
It was getting stronger now, and louder.
In fact, it was getting so loud it was starting to hurt their eardrums.
“It’s another warship,” she wailed.
To his experienced ears he was sure it wasn’t.
They turned, and looked above them.
He started laughing.
H.M.S. Enterprise was written on the side.
As he continued laughing the bright embrace of the ship’s beaming technology whisked them up from the surface of their planet, leaving behind the wasteland that had once been their home.
What do you think?