mission, this ranks as the most difficult decision I have ever had to make, but as Commander-in-Chief of the Solaran armed forces, it is my duty to make the interests of the men and women serving in them my first priority. To that end, I am now ordering an immediate and full strategical missile strike on the ten Kayton Battle Fleets. It is not a decision I take lightly but it is I and I alone who will have to live with the consequences for the rest of my life.”
Things then began to move very quickly. General Siliax waved over the Colonel who was always standing in the shadows, never far away from the Prime Minister. He had the small briefcase chained to his wrist that contained the launch console for the missiles.
“We are going for immediate launch,” the General said as the Colonel removed the handcuffs and placed the small briefcase on the table and used a swipe card to open it.
The Prime Minister and General Siliax then entered their respective authorisations and launch codes as well as the target acquisition information necessary. After which it was just a matter of letting things take their course. Everything that could be done had been done. It was now down to others to carry out the orders and make the whole enterprise a resounding success by eliminating the Kayton battle fleets once and for all.
While everyone else in the command centre was elated at the good news, Freema was still very quiet, not knowing how John and the others were on Tyros.
Alana said to her, “I’m sure John is all right, Freema. They will all be back home soon.”
Freema smiled weakly. “I hope you are right.”
On the forward missile bases which were actually huge lumbering space stations situated behind the Solaran front lines, all was quiet for the crews who manned these monsters. Only endless drills and maintenance broke the monotony. Mind you, that was the way they liked it, knowing full well that the only time they would be used would be if the Solaran front lines collapsed. Then they would be required to fire their deadly cargo to cover their comrades’ retreat. So it really was a case of no news was good news and so it had remained up until then.
On board, two men were responsible for a battery of twenty missiles. They sat in a launch cubicle at a control panel, approximately twelve feet apart from each other. The station contained two hundred missiles in total. One man could not launch his missile battery on his own; both men had to go through a set procedure together for the system to be activated. Two such men who were sitting in their cubicle on just one of these massive harbingers of potential destruction were going about their normal routine which, at that particular moment, consisted of completing some of their daily paper work. Then, like a bolt from the blue, the alarm sounded and an automated voice said, “This is not a drill. Repeat: this is not a drill. We are going for launch.”
The men quickly leapt into action, discarding their pens and paper to initiate the launch sequence in perfect tandem.
One man said, “Oh dear God, the front must have collapsed. I’ve got a brother serving in the front line.”
“Then we had better make them count,” said the other man. “Our forces will be relying on us to cover their withdrawal.”
At that precise moment a senior commander burst into the room. “It is not what you think. The Guardians have knocked out the Drone Command Bunker on Tyros. The Drones are now in full rebellion. We have been ordered to hit the Kayton battle fleets with everything we have got before we send our battle fleets in to finish them off. Come on, jump to it! I don’t want my section to be the last to launch.”
The men needed no further encouragement as they enthusiastically completed their launch sequence with renewed vigour. Never had they dreamed they would be firing their deadly ordnance in such circumstances.
The same scene was being played out on every station as the crews could hear the tremendous noise and feel the vibrations of the tens of thousands of missiles leaving their respective stations in perfect synchronisation, ready to deliver their deadly payload.
On completion of their task, all the crews started celebrating. One said, “I hope those sods get what they deserve.”
Some time later, as the missiles were almost upon the various Kayton battle fleets, vicious hand-to-hand fighting was taking place between the Kaytons and their former Drone crews for control of the ships. On all the ships the alarms were sounding, saying, “Incoming fire… Incoming fire… Take immediate evasive action.”
In most cases it was to no avail. One Kayton crew member said to the former Drone he was now locked in deadly combat with, “Don’t be a fool, let’s work together to save the ship,” but his appeals came too late as the nuclear-tipped missiles smashed into the various Kayton fleets en masse to devastating effect. As the individual ships were hit one by one, they lit up the darkness of space, illuminating it like Christmas tree lights being suddenly switched on. Next, the Solaran battle fleets moved in to finish off what was left of the Kaytons’ ships. They were not fleets any more, just scattered remnants fighting for their very existence. It was all over very quickly. Some Kayton ships had managed to retain control and escape, but their numbers were small. They were now finished as an effective fighting force. Never again would they be able to menace the Galaxy and threaten the peace.