Sacrifice:The Shenkar War (2 page)

             
“
Greetings, Terran. It is a pleasure to meet, although I wish the meeting of our two races were under better circumstances than what we come for. First, let us meet with the leader of your country so we can make proper introductions. To quote a line out of your movies . . . take me to your leader.”

             
Without so much as a word, Kelvin turned and strode off down the hall, not even looking to see if the aliens were following. After ten minutes of walking in silence, they came to a conference room guarded by two very heavily armed soldiers. As they reached the door, one of the soldiers reached over and opened it to allow entrance. Kelvin entered first and walked over to stand behind the desk at which the President was seated. The two aliens entered next and came to stand on the other side of the desk opposite the two men. For what seemed like several minutes, they both just stared at each other before one of the aliens spoke.

             
“
Mr. President, I wish our races could have met under different circumstances, but unfortunately, this cannot be the case.”

             
And with that, the alien told him of what was coming. All the President could do was sit there and think,
God, help us
.

The White House, Washington, DC

              President Adam Sheehan looked in the mirror and fidgeted with his tie for the sixth time as he thought of how he would address the assembled world leaders or their representatives awaiting him in the oval office. He was so tired; the last week had been spent convincing each of them that it was imperative they meet in person--and that it had to do with something worse than the Avian influenza pandemic.

A female voice from behind him spoke.
“
Sir, they are all assembled and await you,” said his aide.

             
“
Thank you, Jane. I will be there in a minute.”

             
The door clicked behind him, and she was gone. Adam Sheehan looked into the mirror to make sure everything was fine. A few minutes later, he entered the Oval Office and took a seat at his desk. Looking around the room, he studied the assembled leaders. The Prime Ministers from the UK, Australia, Canada, and Japan were in attendance, as well as the current Presidents of Russia, Germany, and France. Five years ago, this would be considered such a pitiful assembling of leaders, but since the bird flu, most of the world hadn’t had any real leadership in places with so many dead.

             
“
Thank you for coming. I realize I didn’t give you many reasons to, except that we are about to face Earth’s darkest hour--”

             
Before he could finish, the President of France interrupted him in a voice that could only be considered rude and arrogant.

             
“
Yes, please tell us what it is that’s so much of a threat that we had to drop everything and come here!”

             
“
Oh, shut up, Jacque. Maybe if you gave him a chance to finish, he would do just that!” Prime Minister Denshire of the United Kingdom fired back.

             
France’s President looked like he wanted to say something further, but President Sheehan interrupted them.

             
“
Perhaps it would be better if I just showed you.”

             
With that, he signaled to one of the guards to open a side door. When the door was opened, the two Graylings entered the room. Dead silence welcomed them as all the leaders and representatives stared dumbfounded, unable to speak.

             
“
Gentlemen, let me introduce you to the Meshtrell. They can better explain to you what the situation is and what we must do to guarantee the survival of the human race.”

             
“
Bloody hell, they are real, right? Not robots or anything?” demanded Denshire.

             
For an answer, one of the Meshtrell turned to the Prime Minister of the UK and spoke.

             
“
Prime Minister Denshire, I assure you: we are what you humans refer to as ‘the real deal.’”

             
Silence gripped the room like a vise; no one seemed to know what to say. Each man looked from each other to the Meshtrell and back again, nervously picking at their pants or tugging at their ties. Finally, one of the Meshtrell spoke, its metallic voice carrying clear throughout the room.

             
“
We, the Meshtrell, hail from our home world we call Gretle in a very distant solar system from here. Under your current technology, it would take you 583 of your years to travel there. We are a peace-loving race that devotes our lives to art and science, always striving to learn and better ourselves. However, with advancements in technology, one tends to attract the attentions of others who will take those things one holds so dear to oneself.

             
“Such attentions found our home planet forty-eight of your years ago in the form of the Shenkar Federation. The Shenkar are religious fanatics who believe their sole purpose in life is to seek out sentient beings and enslave or utterly destroy them. They send forth their warships into the stars, and when they discover a sentient race, they attack. They cannot be reasoned with, and nothing short of destroying them can stop the path of destruction they leave across the solar systems they pass through. Due to our higher technology, the Shenkar felt we would be better destroyed than enslaved; now there are only about a hundred of us left.

             
“
However, our history isn’t why we asked for this meeting. Your planet Earth has about five months before one of their scout groups will pass close enough to your galaxy that your planet will draw their attention. Then it will take them another month to bring in their fleet to assault your planet. Unless we help you, your people will be enslaved or destroyed.”

             
All the men again looked at one another, unable to speak yet trying to find the words that so escaped them for the moment. The first to find his voice was the Russian President.

             
“
What do you mean, unless you help us? If they all but destroyed your race, then why wouldn’t you wish to help someone else who might suffer the same fate? Furthermore, if your technology is so much higher, how is it they were able to destroy your race?”

             
This time, it was the second alien who spoke.

             
“
There isn’t a question regarding whether we would or wouldn’t help Earth. If you want our help, then you will have it. Our ship technology will be more than sufficient for what you will need to fight back. As to your second question, the Meshtrell are not a warrior race. We can make the means to fight but do not have the ability to use it. You humans have abilities inside you that you have yet to discover.”

             
“
This is all very overwhelming to get used to. I mean, you’re telling us this Shenkar will soon be upon us? How big of a force are we speaking of?” demanded the German President.

             
“
Our last estimates put the Shenkar Federation fleet at over one hundred capital ships with roughly four thousand fighters plus another hundred support ships. This is the normal complement of a Dread Fleet, which also carries shock troops numbering about ten million,” spoke the second Grayling.

             
“
How can we possibly hope to stand against that? We don’t even have any spacecraft capable of combat,” spoke the Australian Prime Minister.

             
“
When we fled the destruction of our planet, we fled with the means to create a fleet capable of facing the Shenkar. We can create shipyards that will produce the capital ships and fighters you need.”

             
Looks of skepticism crossed several faces, and this time the Japanese Prime Minister was the one to speak up.

             
“
To create such a fleet, you would need hundreds of thousands to millions of tons of minerals. The Earth just doesn’t have those kinds of resources--where would we get such resources?”

             
“
You forget, your solar system has an incredible source: the asteroid belt that separates the planets you call Mars and Jupiter. In a matter of little time, we can create processing plants to mine the asteroids for the materials needed,” spoke the first Grayling.

             
“
However, while the ships are being created, we will need to train your people,” added the second Grayling.

             
“
Yes, our studies of your people have found that you have the incredible ability to absorb and process information. However, even under normal circumstances, to build the fleet and train the personnel necessary to outfit it will take nine months,” spoke the first Grayling.

             
“
But you just said the Shenkar will be here in six months--where does that leave us?” asked Japan’s Prime Minister.

             
“
It will be necessary to slow them down. To do this, you will need to send a ship. We currently have a carrier-class battle cruiser with a full complement of prototype light and heavy fighters. These fighters are not your typical fighter craft. These ships require special pilots--pilots who can only be described as superhuman,” explained the second Grayling.

             
“
Through our nanotechnology, we can enhance some of your people. With this nanotech, your pilots can withstand g-forces that would kill a normal man. Their reaction times will be greater than twenty men, all senses enhanced twenty times over. Unfortunately, it can’t be just any human; it can only be humans who have a certain state of mind,” spoke the first Grayling.

             
“
I have a question,” said the Prime Minister of Japan. “Should we be wasting a battlecruiser in an attempt to slow them down? I mean, if they are so powerful, shouldn’t we hold onto it?”

             
“
The battlecruiser we send will not be engaging directly in combat; only the fighters will be engaging the Shenkar. Once all the pilots have died or done everything they can to slow the Shenkar down, then the battlecruiser will return to Earth to augment the defenses,” said the Meshtrell.

             
“
Okay, that’s settled. I would like to know what you mean by ‘a certain state of mind’?” queried the Russian President.

Manchester, New Hampshire

             
The barrel of the .357 Magnum felt cool to Liam as he pressed it against the skin up under his chin. With his finger on the trigger and the hammer locked back, all it would take was the slightest of pressure to end it all. The bullet would rip up through his jaw and into his brain. With his other hand, he held the picture of his dead wife, dead from the bird flu almost two years now. His hand trembled; only slight pressure would end this pain that tormented him every day.

             
Why couldn’t he do it? It should be so easy, just a slight squeeze and bang. All he wanted to do was die. But even for how much Liam wanted it all to end, feeling there was nothing to live for, he couldn’t do it. Not because he was afraid of death--not at all, actually. It was his warped sense of letting down what friends and family he had left. Liam thought wryly,
It shouldn’t matter, really. I mean what does it matter what people think of you when you won’t be around to hear it?
Well, Liam would know that he had let people down, and knowing that was too much for some odd and unknown reason.

             
Setting the picture back onto the end table, he became aware that his eyes were brimming with tears. Sighing, he slowly eased the hammer back, clicked the safety in place, and scrubbed the tears away with the back of his hand before he stood up from his couch.

             
Walking down the hall to his bedroom, he thought back to when he first met his wife, Sarah. He could say he met her by accident, actually. He was twenty-eight years old and driving his new Jeep down the road when he came upon a stop sign and slowed to stop. Suddenly, he heard a screech and felt a not overly hard impact of something hitting him from behind. Seething with anger, Liam climbed from his Jeep, ready to rip this jerk in half. Immediately, his anger vanished as he looked into the face of what he could only describe as an angel. Sarah was beautiful, with long blond hair and blue eyes. She was petite at five foot three inches, with an incredible body, the kind that made men just stop and stare.

             
“
Oh, my god, are you all right?” Sarah had asked, her face full of concern. “I am so sorry. I have insurance, and I will pay for all the damages.”