Posleen Fanfiction The Yeomen of England by Chris Nuttall

Author:Chris Nuttall [Nuttall, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2012-07-17T08:51:22+00:00

***

“The Darhel definitely passed on some information to the Posleen,” Sir Robert said, half an hour later. “They didn’t pick too many of the vital targets, but they did get some of the decoy ones. In fact, I suspect that the Manchester Globe intended to land on top of our headquarters, rather than on top of the battalion they did land on.” He scowled. “There were no survivors, of course.”

“Of course,” the Prime Minister snapped. “So, what do we do now? Look at all the damage they caused.”

“Too much,” Sir Robert agreed. The Posleen didn’t seem to have had a coordinated fire plan for hitting the British defences; they’d hammered the PDCs and some artillery units that had attempted to engage the falling landers, but they had refrained from the ‘shock and awe’ bombardment that British or American generals would have used as a matter of course. Kinetic bombs had fallen across Britain, but few seemed to have been targeted to destroy the defences; they’d hit rail yards, junctions, motorways, some factories and – for a reason no one could understand – Woburn Abbey.

They don’t want to kill us when they can eat us and in fact they’re depending on us to feed them with our bodies, the Prime Minister realised, with a flash of sudden insight. Do they even care about the information the Darhel are feeding them? Are they bright enough to understand its value?

“Do you think that it’s the time for dealing with the Darhel we have resident in London?” Sir Robert asked, breaking into his thoughts. “He is rather a…nuisance.”

“I would have thought that you would have an opinion on that,” the Prime Minister snapped. “Intelligence work is your bailiwick.”

The ground shuddered violently. “A strike on HMS Belfast, from orbit,” an aide called.

“It’s not safe here,” Sir Robert snapped. “Prime Minister, I have one opinion, and that is that you are risking yourself up here. Some Posleen are still in orbit, preparing to descend to God knows where.”

“Very well,” the Prime Minister said, and headed for the emergency shaft to the bunker. “What is your opinion?”

“Keep him for now,” Sir Robert said, falling into the Prime Minister’s stride. “We might have an opportunity to feed the bastard enough information to lure the Posleen into a serious mistake. Hammond can help us to ensure that nothing…unfortunate happens to the information.”

The Prime Minister stepped into the elevator. “I hope you’re right,” he said. “I hope that you’re right.”

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