Necron (part 2) by Oliver Strong

Author:Oliver Strong
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: alien invasion, space marines, space action scifi action, alien attack, space marine, alien battles
Publisher: Oliver Strong

Command and Control on the Necron Bridge … reports flowed in from all stations, executive officers dealing with three or four situations at once. Patterson observed his tactical display, the U.S.S Kennedy reappeared from hiding now that the final Drax Destroyer was soon to be captured by Necron Marines.

‘U.S.S. Kennedy targeting Dart One Commodore.’

Patterson smashed his fist on the desk, the bridge halted, ‘Bloody typical! Just bloody typical!’

‘Sir?’ replied a young lady recently assigned to Command and Control.

‘Bloody Americans, wait until the enemy is practically finished then swoop in to grab all the glory! Well I’ll be buggered if they’re going to take our glory! Get me their sorry excuse for an Admiral!’

Colonel Rockey took his opportunity, while Patterson was distracted he ordered 2nd Lieutenant Eric Clarke released from his holding cell, ‘Send him to Deck B, inform the Chief, I’m sending the mission parameters now.’

‘Understood sir,’ replied a gruff Marine.

2nd Lieutenant Eric Clarke had washed out three times trying to land on the Necron, an automatic trip to harvesting. His cell opened, un-cuffed, he thought this was it, the end.

Two Marine guards led him past Harvesting and onto Deck B, ‘What’s going on guys?’ asked the six foot six Californian.

‘You’re going to see the Chief.’

Clarke scowled as he walked onto a hurried flight deck, a busy Chief nodded at the guards, ‘I got it from here,’ said the Irishman.

The Marines left, Clarke furrowed his brow.

‘You Clarke?’

‘Yeh.’

‘Admiral Clarke’s son?’

‘Yeh,’ the Lieutenant was in wonder starring at Blackbirds refuelling when instead he should be under the knife in Harvesting.

‘Okay, here’s your mission parameters.’

Clarke observed his wrist device, ‘Gotcha.’

‘Now this isn’t one hundred percent kosher so you’ll be under Green Company Actual for this mission, understood?’

‘Yeh, but …’

‘Don’t ask any questions, just don’t wash out this time and you might get reinstated.’

Clarke closed his eyes, ‘But I can’t.’

‘You passed the tests.’

‘Yeh, in the simulator, but I get all tense when it’s for real.’

Chief Morgan downloaded something else to Clarke’s device, ‘I knew a few guys like you, they get all stressed at the last moment.’

‘Yeh.’

‘Well listen to this, it’ll clam you down, take your mind off things, you’ll swan in and land like you’re on auto.’

‘You sure?’

‘You got a better idea kid?’

Clarke raised his eyebrows, ‘I guess not.’

Morgan passed Clarke his flight gear, then his flight helmet. Across the front in star spangled letters was written “FORTUNATE SON”, ‘Now get those Clicks and for Christ’s sake land the fucking Bird!’

Clarke nodded before he stepped up and into the cockpit checking the multimillion tax right killing machine and its flight crew.

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