- Posting Speed
- Speed of Light
- Writing Levels
- Douche
- Preferred Character Gender
- No Preferences
EPISODE ONE
The explosion shook the city, toppling walls and loosing power cables. They rained around Captain Clarke as he ran. The spaceport was on fire and made the horizon an orange curtain to light his way. In chorus with his footfalls were shouts of Alphatronian citizens, cut now and then by great zaps of energy. He pushed through a line of firefighters tackling a blaze at the city bank. His wrist comm bleeped.
"How the hell did they get inside the dome, Clarke?!" yelled the President, whose tiny face appeared on the wrist comm. The colony leader was framed by his window, where the second flying saucer was attacking the spaceport.
"The Magravores must have developed cloaking technology since we last fought them. Slipped inside when we opened up for the Torradian Ambassador." The captain's voice was deep and booming, the voice of an American hero.
Reaching Hubbard Street, one of the main thoroughfares through the heart of the city, he saw citizens fleeing in all directions from the first saucer. The only ones who didn't seem to be panicking were the Martian immigrants, who continued taking pictures and pointing at the deadly spaceship overhead. Martians never took anything seriously. Yelling at them to take cover, Captain Clarke pulled his gun and sprinted between overturned cars and ruptured hydrants.
Then he fired his Herc-Ray. It punched through the outer rim of the flying saucer, leaving a smoking hole. Immediately there was whirring and the blinking of lights. Then the spaceship's death-lazer returned fire. Clarke rolled as a great hole was torn in the middle of the street, concrete and bedrock vapourizing under the assault. He flattened himself in a shop doorway, then fired again, hitting the cockpit of the UFO. There was a crackle as its forcefield protected the glass and the ugly pilots behind it.
"These two ships are abducting our women and livestock!" the President complained from the wrist-comm, fists drumming his desk. "We can't allow it!"
"StarGun Squad is on the case, Mr President," Clarke assured him with a square-jawed smile.
Then there was another crackle, higher-pitched and closer. A Magravore Kill Team materialised in front of him, sent down by the saucer above. They were unclothed - clearly drones. When they saw the pesky human they hissed and outstretched their hands, lightning crackling at their fingertips.
"Oh heck!" Clarke used his left hand to reach down, his enhanced palm snagging a trash can lid. He lifted it just in time as twin bolts of Magravore psychic energy struck. The force threw him back through the shop window and he landed in a flutter of comics, plastic toys and replica merchandise.
"Clarke! Captain Clarke? Are you alright?!"
"Just window-shopping, Sir." The captain started crawling between the bookshelves and behind the counter. "I'll call you back." He keyed his wrist comm and cut the President off mid-sentence, then opened a line to StarGun Command. "This is Captain Clarke to StarGun Squad. Any of you not at the spaceport, I'm battling the leader saucer over Hubbard Street. I could use some help."
He ducked down and began charging his ray gun, just as the faces of the two Magravores appeared at the shattered window, peering in.