Chapter 49

Year 4, Day 230, I.S.V Lacerate, High Orbit, Earth 29 Universe

Alexander winced as he rolled his neck and heard a loud crack. Ever since he'd upgraded his bones and muscles that had been becoming more and more common, he was starting to worry he'd overdone it somehow. The last thing he wanted was to break his own bones stretching. With a glance at the paperwork spread over the desk he sighed. When he dreamed of being a King as a younger man he didn't imagine the sheer amount of boredom that would come with it.

It had been over a month since the Kromaggs had been driven back from E29, and yet they were still being called in to handle small pockets of 'stay behind' forces. It was becoming less and less common as the Kromaggs were slowly eliminated, the remaining forces learning from brutal experience the only way to avoid having a chunk of metal dropped on them from orbit was to be near a civilian population. A good chunk of the world's governments couldn't give two shits about the 'collateral damage', but Alexander drew the line at bombing residential neighborhoods.

Alexander smiled bitterly as he considered the latest reports on the different battles going on below him. It was ironic in many ways that Africa, that poor blighted continent, had gotten off the easiest. It simply didn't have the industry that the Kromaggs wanted to capture or at very least neutralize. That wasn't to say it didn't have problems, the Kromaggs had hit both Egypt and other parts of North Africa, as well as the more industrialized nations in the south, most notably South Africa. If that wasn't bad enough dozens of little 'civil' wars had popped up during the chaos, tribal and ideologically opposed groups taking advantages of the world's preoccupation with the Kromaggs to settle centuries old grudges.

It wasn't limited to Africa either, the Balkans and a dozen other 'hot spots' had erupted into a frenzy of blood letting as well.

Honestly Alexander wondered if he shouldn't start dropping KEWs on anyone who stepped out of line. He doubted it would go down well the more civilised nations that were starting to get things back under control on their own soil. But dammit, didn't people realise that they were facing planetary enslavement? He questioned in his own mind.

With a sigh he put down the list of the dead and picked up the quartermaster's supply request. That at least he could do something about.

***

In the cabin next door Urial Clearsky was busily scribbling down notes as he listened to softly playing music. In front of him was a copy of the 'Magic for Dummies' books Lord Alexander had obtained from somewhere. There was much of interest to the young bodyguard in the loose leaf binder, at first the arcane theory made his head hurt but the more he read, the more he started to understand it.

***

Two decks down Mark Clayworth started to throw his tablet computer against the wall, but stopped and took a deep breath before carefully placing the computer back on the table. He was frustrated, having just lost his seventh consecutive 'wargame' against an AI opponent. It wasn't a video game, though it had the graphics and response times that would put anything on the E29 market to shame, it was an intermediate training simulator for Imperial naval cadets.

In the last simulation Clayworth 'played' the captain of a vessel much like the Lacerate responding to a distress call from a civilian transport under attack by pirates. In theory it should have been a simple exercise, the ship he was virtually commanding massed thirty times the combined tonnage of the pirate vessels, however unlike the Kromagg ship he'd blown out of orbit the AI had near technological parity and a knowledge of space combat. The three pirate ships had picked his light cruiser apart, like feral dogs taking down a bull. In the end he'd been 'relieved' by his virtual 2IC for 'incompetence' and been forced to watch as the computer showed him how it was suppose to be done.

It wasn't really his fault, he knew that, before meeting Alexander Harlow he'd never even considered he might end up in space, let alone in command of a warship, he was a Marine, he was suppose to support the Navy, not run it.

Heaving a sigh he picked up the tablet and loaded another scenario.

***

Year 4, Day 233, Research Complex, Minnesota, Falling Skies Universe

Alexander smiled thinly as he looked over the craft covering the airfield in front of him. It had been months since he'd spent more than an hour in the Falling Skies universe, normally he spent just enough time there to pick up and drop off supplies and correspondence, and frankly he'd like to have avoided being dragged into the dog and pony show he was currently enduring. But his people stationed there had insisted that 'show the flag'.

"Impressive aren't they?" Brigadier General Thomas Derosa, the commander of the combined research complex and airbase, said while standing next to Alexander.

Alexander hummed noncommittally. To tell the truth he was impressed, the fact they'd they managed to go from design to production in a little over year was impressive, but the craft in front of him just didn't make him want to sit up and take notice. Oh they were worlds ahead of what had been possible before the Alien invasion, but compared to some of the stuff his people were working on, never mind the things he'd seen in action, the fighters lining the runway weren't that interesting.

Plus they were ugly. Really ugly. Alexander thought they looked like AV-8A Harrier had knocked up a TIE-fighter then spent it's entire childhood beating it with a stick. On the positive side they were fast, and packed one hell of a punch. Nothing compared to even the cheapest fighters ran by even the poorest border worlds in the Star Wars universe, but against the Espheni? They'd murder the skinny bastards.

"How many do you have operational?" Alexander asked ideally, figuring he should throw them a bone, and curious if he'd get an honest answer, he already knew of course, his people had access, legal and illegal, to everything any government agency in the FSU had.

"Six squadrons, twelve apiece." Derosa said proudly, and with honesty, something that shocked Alexander.

"That many already?" Alexander said with feigned interest.

"Yes Sir!" Derosa said enthusiastically, "And the boys in Des Moines are churning them out at two a week. Vladivostok and Niigata have just came online, and we've got a dozen new factories set to open soon"

"What's their endurance like?" Alexander asked, turning slightly to look at the General.

"Twenty hours in atmo, six in space" Derosa replied swiftly, "They burn a lot of reactor mass getting into orbit"

Alexander nodded to himself, "I hope you've got plans for more than just fighters, they're good, but you can't afford to let the Espheni get control of the orbitals again"

Derosa shook his head, "I know we've got plans for dedicated spacecraft, but that's being handled out of the EU, so I don't know much of the details"

"Good. Good" Alexander said, "best not to put all your eggs in one basket and all that"

"That's the thinking" Derosa said, "So can I tempt you with a ride?"

Alexander glanced at the fighters, 'Not on your life, I might be able to teleport, but there is no way in hell I'm getting into one of those death traps' He thought to himself while trying to find a more diplomatic reply.

***

Excerpt from Alexander Harlow's Personal Journal. Year 4, Day 234, I.S.V Lacerate, E29

So being deaf sucks. Kind of obvious, but personal experience and all that. Let's just say that the auditory portion of Project Sentinel needs more work. Also fucking ouch. Thankfully it was easy to fix.

On more pleasant topics; Nuclear weapons. The ESRO tested our first homemade nuke with much success. Sure it was only a fifty kiloton firecracker that they detonated out near the asteroid belt, but it worked. That should make my life easier, no more lifting nukes from dead worlds or buying them from the Hutts if we can get a production line up and running.

On a related note, I need to read their reports closer, because I didn't know about it until afterwards.