Genesis Project Ch. 16

Edinburgh, England.

"This is BBC News correspondent Lawrence Henderson reporting with today's top stories." Said a man in his early thirties. He straightened out the papers sitting in front of him and turned towards camera two, slightly to his right.

"Meteorologists around the world are puzzled by the sudden change in our moon. Astronomers noticed the change last night when the moon was supposed to be full. But it was instead dark gunmetal gray. Those with telescopes had called into the station with wild stories about metallic structure covering the entire surface of the moon. We now go to reporter Jane Spencer, who is reporting live with Professor of Astronomy for Edinburgh College, Jack Sinclair. Jane?" Lawrence said.

"Thank you Lawrence. I'm here at Edinburgh College with Doctor Sinclair. Doctor, what can you tells us about this situation with the moon?" asked the reporter.

They were standing inside the Edinburgh observatory, located in the English countryside, in front of a large telescope, while interns ran here and there. One was sitting in a chair staring through the scope of the telescope. Another was standing by taking notes from various readings.

"Yes, I've been studying the phenomenon for the last day, day and a half, since a colleague from the Stellar Mapping Institute or the SMI as it is usually called contacted me. He called around three thirty in the morning saying there was something on the moon. At first I didn't believe him until he told me to go into work early and look through the telescope at the college. What I saw was simply amazing. I hooked up a recording device to the telescope so I could take video and still picture of what I was observing. At first I couldn't believe my eyes. There was metallic structures on the moon that wasn't there a few days ago. I called a sister site in Savannah, Georgia to confirm my finding. They to couldn't believe what they wee seeing. They intern called an observatory in Phoenix, Arizona. They all saw the same thing. We had a conference call around seven this morning and tried to figure out exactly what this structure is and what its purpose is. So far we haven't been able to speculate what it is."

"Doctor, are you saying we been invaded by an Alien race?" asked the reporter. Doctor Sinclair smiled slightly at that question and shook his head bemusedly.

"As of now I have no idea as to whether or not that may be true. What I do know is that no one on this planet built whatever that is up there." Said the professor.

"Professor!!! You got to come see this!" exclaimed the young intern sitting in the chair. Both the reporter and the professor ran over to the student and waited for him to explain what was going on. The intern kept gesturing with his hands, but was unable to describe what exactly he was seeing.

"It's okay Bill, we'll put up on the big screen." Doctor Sinclair said.

He walked over to a computer station and typed in a few commands then directed the recording device to start recording and switch the feed over to the TV so they could watch at the same time.

"Jim, could you be a good lad and turn on the Tele?" asked the Doctor.

"Right." Responded the intern.

"Jane, what's happening?" said a voice in the reporter earpiece.

"It appears there is a development in the story." Jane said into the camera.

"Bobby focus in on the Tele." Ordered the voice, directing the camera operator.

The TV flickered to life. One of the students grabbed the remote and switched it over to video feed. For a few moments the screen was snowy then became clear. Everyone was silent, watching, looking for what the excited student had seen. A distant image of the moon was shown on the screen, its surface honeycombed with artificial canyons. Sinclair asked the student to enhance the image so they could get a closer look. It took little than five seconds to enhance the image; the moon now appeared to be closer and more detailed. Now they could see large installations of what appeared to be cannons and yet they couldn't fathom how massive they were considering there was nothing to measure them against. These cannons littered the vast majority of the surface structure. Everyone was so engrossed in the view that when something moved into the picture they were visibly startled. Whatever it was slowly moved into view but the image was blurry.

"Bill, focus out a little bit. We can't make out anything like this." Sinclair said.

The student zoomed out a bit and refocused the image. They could see the image clearly now and it was an impressive sight. It was, for lack of a better word, a ship. A heavy damaged ship. Everyone in the room was shocked into silence, as was everyone else watching the news broadcast. The ship seemed to be marred by huge blast burns and looked as if huge portions of the hull were missing. About then Sinclair notice something on the hull of the craft.

"Bill, zoom in on the hull, a hundred and fifty percent magnification, upper right quadrant." Sinclair said his voice shaky with excitement.

Bill did his best for the Professor and zoom in on the indicated area. Once the image was focused every gasped at what they saw. They saw large robots going here and there, patching up small holes in the hull of the ship. They were shocked even more when they saw what appeared to be a being walking towards one to the robots. Whatever it was looked to be wearing a suit of some kind, but no one could guess at what the suit was made up. A few in the room would have given up their right arm to have one like; other noticed that it looked similar to the suit in the 'Halo'video game. Though, it did seem to be a different color.

"Bloody hell, aliens!!" exclaimed one of the students.

"Shut up, Richard. Dumbarse." Said a very snooty redhead.

"Enough of that." Said Professor Sinclair.

"Un-bloody-believable." The reporter stated. Her earpiece had been buzzing for more than three minutes but she could not hear what was being said. She was in a state of shock.

"Well, I believe that answers your question, Miss Spencer." Everyone in the room slowly nodded in agreement.

On the screen, something that looked like a flying discus came towards the figure in the suit and stop right in front of it. The alien looked at the strange device and it shimmered for a moment until an image appeared to floating on top of the disc. It was hard to tell, but it was a schematic of the ship and it showed all of the damage that needed to be repaired. The being then retrieved what looked like a handheld PDA with a stylus, which it began to scribble something onto it. After a few minutes the being shook its head and walked off towards a destination on the other side of the ship.

"Well, I think that's all that we're going to see for now. Now would someone be so kind as to make me a cup of tea or a large shot brandy, whichever you find first." Said Sinclair.

"Yes, well this is Jane Spencer, reporting live from Edinburgh College, back to you Lawrence." The reporter said.

_______________________________________

Washington, D.C. USA

It was ten in the morning the day after the BBC news broadcast. The president, though scatterbrained at times, was very upset for obvious reasons. He had to address the country this morning, reassuring them that everything was fine and there is nothing to worry about. After the announcement a few riots broke out in a few cities; such as Seattle, Miami, Dallas, and Cleveland. Order was restored shortly, once the police from each city were out in force to subdue the rioters. Now the president had bigger fish to fry.

"Gentlemen, what in the hell is going on? How is it I'm the last to know what appears to be enemy propaganda being broadcasted to half the world?" The very angry president asked.

Five generals, two admirals, and three representatives from the CIA, the NSA, and the Homeland Security sat starring at the president, like he just gave birth to a small Hippo in the oval office. You just don't go straight out and talk about it, no matter how hard you try to avoid the uncomfortable topic.

"Sir, we don't believe they could fake this, in fact we have verified reports from across the entire country. From various civilian and military observatories alike." Said the one from Homeland Security.

"Lies, all lies! God created us inhisown image, no one else. Whatever this broadcast was it is a blatant lie to deceive us from their true goal." Said a red-faced president as he slammed his fist on the desk.

A few of the men in the room jumped at the sound of a meaty fist hitting the oak desk. They all knew he'd been on a religious kick for the last eighteen months, since his heart attack. Ever since than its been Jesus this, Jesus that, and he's been carrying around a bible everywhere he goes.

"God, in his infinite wisdom, shall show us the way, like a shepherd tending his flock." Recited the president. "You may go now."

Once they left the oval office, the group of men let out a sigh of relief. They all knew he was a few apples short of an apple pie. What was worse was that the man was a complete fucking idiot which didn't help matters at all. Behind the closed door of the oval office the president picked up his private line and dialed a very long complex phone number. After two rings the other end was picked up and a very husky voice answered.

"Hello, who may I ask is calling?" Said the husky voice.

"Yes, it's me. I need to talk with his holiness." The president said.

"One moment." Replied the voice.

"Cross." Said a southern accented baritone voice.

"My liege something bothersome was come to my attention and frankly I'm uncertain on what to do about it. It involves the BBC news broadcast the other day. Is it a sign of the end of days? A divine test for those who are worthy to join him in all his glory?" Asked the president.

"You sniveling little pissant I'll tell you when and where god plans to tests his chosen people. I'll get back to you in a day or two on my opinion but if you hold another public address like you did this morning you'll end up in a fresh slab of concrete somewhere in Chicago. I didn't spend all that money to get you into office just so you could fuck up my plans. For the time being, keep your mouth shut and pay attention to those around you. You need to present a calm, strong face to everyone. Or else everything I've worked for would be for not." Cross said.

"Yes, sir. Don't worry about it. You can...hello? Sir?" The dial tone was his only answer.

_____________________________

Starkweather Veteran's Hospital
Richmond, Virginia.

Shawn Marshall lay in bed, starring at the pinpricks in the ceiling. There wasn't much else he could do but look straight up. Left or right weren't much better either. Private first-class Shawn Marshall, the latest graduate of the Marine Corps, had been walking his third guard patrol when it happened. He was struck in the back of the neck, a glancing blow at best, by sniper activity in downtown Baghdad. His squad rushed him to an Aid station, where they stabilized him for transport to a M.A.S.H. unit. From there they operated on the private, trying to repair the damage caused by the bullet. Unfortunately the bullet severed his spinal cord from the base of the neck down. There was no hope for him to regain use of his body; he'd be a damn cripple for the rest of his life. Pissing into a catheter, shitting into a colostomy bag, only to breathe with help from a respirator, and having someone else take care of him. Feeling utterly helpless all the while. He even tried to commit suicide by biting his tongue, hoping he would either bleed out or drown in his own blood. That was two weeks ago, suicide watch ended a few days ago and now he was depressed again. When his family came to see him he asked the nurse to tell them to go away and not come back. Shawn didn't want his father or mother to see him like this, less than what he was. So here he was, all alone in his hospital room, the respirator his only company. Or so he thought. He looked to his right and saw some person just sitting there with his fingers steeple.

He looked kinda plain with glasses on the bridge of his nose. He was wearing jeans, a strange looking watch, a screen T-shirt saying: 'Your Brain Is Like the Death Star...It's Not Yet Completely Operational.' and wearing a pair of black with red trim Van sneakers. He just sat there watching Shawn, not saying a word.

"Hey, take a picture, it'll last longer." Snipped Shawn.

The person just smirked at Shawn and reached for Shawn's chart and he sat back down. He looked over the chart for a few minutes, clucking his tongue now and again.

"Well Shawn since the sniper incident you've been paralyzed from the neck down with no hope for improvement. Before I came here I had a chance to browse your military record. A few accommodations from your NCO awarded the Medal of Honor and the Purple Heart, for obvious reasons. All in all a good soldier, but now a wounded veteran with no hope for the future. I guess that was why you tried to kill yourself then, why bother living if you can't use your own body." The stranger said.

"Fuck you, shithead! I like to see you take a bullet in the neck and see how you would handle it." Exclaimed Shawn.

"Please don't be offended by what I say. I'm just stating the facts. You're a good man Shawn. And you deserve a second chance." Said the stranger.

"What are you talking about; there is no more hope for me." Shawn stated rather flatly.

"Shawn there is no greater mystery in life than this question: What if? What if the bullet that severed your spinal cord missed? What if you were sent to another city in Iraq and some other poor idiot got that bullet instead of you? What if you spotted the sniper before he got a chance to shoot you? I could go on and on, but I won't. I'm here to give you the chance to walk again, to feel again, to enjoy life to its fullest. Shawn let me ask you this; what have you got to lose?" said the stranger.

Shawn didn't say anything. He knew what the stranger said had some truth to it and he couldn't deny that this felt right in his heart.

"Alright." Shawn spoke softly. He just couldn't stop himself from hoping again.

"Excellent Shawn, you won't regret this, trust me. By the way, my name is Mitch Matrovsky. Just hold on for one second." Mitch said.

He reached into his pocket and retrieved what looked like a duplicate of the watch he was wearing and affixed it to Shawn's wrist.

"Sam transport in ten seconds. And Shawn you are going to love this." Mitch said and they vanished from the room.

Thirty minutes later, a nurse came in to check on her patient. What she didn't expect to find was the patient gone, but all of his tubes and IV's lying on the bed without a drop of blood to be seen. The police were called in and the hospital administration was in an uproar at the bad publicity of a missing patient. The police didn't have a clue to how Shawn disappeared or why someone would bother kidnapping a handicapped veteran. The story made the local news stations and local newspapers. The hospital administration took much of the blame for Shawns disappearance, lack of security and minimal funding was the reason they gave reporters. The damage was done and the locals shied away from the hospital unless absolutely necessary and they couldn't reach another hospital in time. An interesting side note made it into the national news. Apparently several thousand fatally sick or physically disabled people disappeared from hospitals throughout the nation.

__________________________

Aboard the Darkstar...

"They seem to be taking this rather well." Said Mike.

"Yeah, but it could have been worse you know." Replied Emily.

"Yeah I know. I'm not a complete fool." Mike said.

It had been a very stressful week for Earth, though there was hope for its people. After three days amateur astronomers started to send signals towards the moon and the ships. All went unanswered but they were listened too nonetheless. A few were oddballs trying to get 'beamed' aboard. Some were just trying to make first contact in a peaceful manner. Even a couple of governments tried to make contact, demanding that we undo whatever we did to the moon and surrender or be destroyed. Mike got a good two-minute chuckle out of that.

"I'm just glad no one commited suicide over our appearance." Emily stated calmly.

"I'm glad too, we also need to prepare for the possibility of some fool trying to send a shuttle up here and 'try' to take our ships and base." Mike said.

Earlier, Sam detected no less than five spy satellites trying to observe them and intercept any and all communication. On a lighter note, Lewis was enjoying his new home in the base and everything was running smoothly. The new residents occupying the base were ecstatic at the opportunity. It was actually Mitch's idea to begin with and it gave hope to those whom had none left. Some were architects, computer analysts, doctors, surgeons, soldiers, sailors, schoolteachers, engineers, and etc. Even those two Air Force pilots decided to stay, even though Mike nearly scared the shot out of them flying them toDarkstarand then jerking them around with holograms of hideous alien monsters for about another half an hour. Lt. Commander Austin Sykes joined up shortly after being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer by Sam in the med-bay. Captain Jonathan 'Johnny' Tran decided to stay because the base commander found out he was secretly a homosexual and was letting his finish out the week before informing the higher ups. Either way Johnny was officially out of the armed forces by the end of the week no matter what he said or did.

Sam created two more AI's and is working on a third. One was Pike, who is now working his way into every computer on Earth hooked up to the internet via modem or wireless connection. In other words he is Earth's new planetary AI. The second AI was named Cassandra and her job is to handle system security. Not everything was good though. Jack had sent a report on the slave ship and it was anything but good. What it boiled down to was: 'It's not a fixer upper, it's a blower upper.' Jack thought it was a waste of time to fix it, because there was too much damage. And Mike had to agree with him on that.

"Remind me to tell Jack to scrap the slave ship." Mike said to Emily.

"No problem." Emily responded.

"So when is the first Battle Cruiser going to come off the line?" asked Mike.

Emily picked up a PDA pad and tapped a few buttons until she brought up the shipyard schedule.

"The first one will be completed in...five hours. And an additional five after that for every Cruiser." Emily stated.

"What about those Battle droids?"

"There are about five hundred of them so far. Sam has been busy making them in his hanger bay." Emily replied. Mike nodded and started to pace the room. Just as it was beginning to be annoying to Emily, Jack walked in looking slightly bewildered.

"Hey guess what," Jack started, "I watching the TV, getting an impression of what of 'arrival' had done to the populace. There are UFO fanatics holding a huge rally in the Nevada desert, just around where Area 51 is supposed to be. They got signs, radio transmitters, strobe lights, and basically want to be taken to our leader." At this point he looked slyly at Mike, who shrugged his shoulders.

"Not going to happen. We don't need UFO nuts. Let the crazy people be." Responded Mike.

"Two more things before I go get some sleep. One, the slave ship is on its way to being repaired, though it will take a while to bring it up to our standards. But it is a real bitch to fix. I still can't believe that I was on TV. But damn did I look sweet or what?" Jack finished with a wide grin.