Poisoned World

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. However, when a face of absolute terror slams into the window of the Black Cloud, a massive command class battlecruiser, one does not need to hear the scream. The stiff cadaver bounces off the starship, remaining preserved in the stillness of space among the debris of the destroyed space station, along with the other lifeless bodies that drift afloat. As Commander Trenton remains unfazed and expressionless whilst standing at the front window of the bridge. A spotless command deck with a slick black interior, complemented by the illumination of red neon lights that line the corners of the ceiling. Whilst rows of scrawny robotic androids work tirelessly on their computers. Hunched over their control buttons and data screens, ensuring the functionality of the Black Cloud, and remaining obedient to their one true master; Commander Trenton. The purple light of his bionic eye reflects off the window as he stares at the earth, which slowly grows larger as they continue to approach. Loud footsteps on the steel floor interrupt the sounds of humming engines and beeping computers. Approaching from behind, not only does he know it’s his second in command; Raptor, from the reflection of the glass window, but also because of the cybernetic implant in his right temple. Allowing him to monitor the whereabouts of every CRI unit like an onboard radar.

“Commander Trenton, our scout droids have returned with the readings. Earth’s radiation levels are at four hundred percent, and the oxygen levels are at eighteen. The planet is completely inhabitable. I doubt that there would be any humans alive,” says Raptor, his white lab coat covering most of his half flesh, half metal android body. Whilst his faceless mask covers his wretched, deformed face. Trenton continues to stare out the window.

“Humans are like vermin, Raptor. They would scurry underground like the rats they are,” Trenton growls.

“They are, commander. However, I assumed ‌you would rather explore the rest of the galaxy. And leave the humans to rot in the nuclear fallout,” says Raptor, his voice is raspy like a constant hiss.

“Completely nuking the planet was only phase two,” said Trenton, his voice echoing with authority.

“After the side objective of setting up the moon outpost. We will now begin phase three,” he adds whilst moving towards his command throne at the center of the bridge.

“Begin clearing a zone for our arrival,” he orders as he sits on his throne. The computer bound robots beep in acceptance, as they send out a signal to the hundreds of battlecruisers that follow the Black Cloud through the earth’s atmosphere. The ship rumbles and shakes as they pass through the radiation stricken storm clouds, whilst bolts of lightning zap and spark off the metal hull during their slow descent. Lighting up the bridge in flashes as acid rain washes over the glass window. Eventually, hundreds of starships litter the dull green sky, each one being triple the size of an aircraft carrier. The exterior lights of the ships produce a red glow upon the clouds as they pass through, eventually hovering at twenty thousand feet in the air, with each battlecruiser positioning its large under-hull turret to aim at the ground. A bridge robot buzzes out from behind its computer.

“Beginning zone clearing.”

Simultaneously, the battlecruisers continuously fire laser beams from their turrets at the ground. Blowing up and destroying all pieces of land as hundreds of lasers scorch the earth, eliminating mutated creatures, dead trees, or even wreckage from the great war. Totally erasing everything from existence whilst dust and smoke drift into the air. After a minute of constant barrage, the bridge robot signals out a ceasefire, causing all the battlecruisers to silence their guns immediately. The howling winds carry the clouds of dust and smoke into the sky, revealing the blackened charred remains of the ground.

“Immobilize battle-group divisions zero forty seven and one twenty-two,” orders Commander Trenton from his command throne. His voice echoes throughout the bridge.

“Now the hunt begins.”

Two battlecruisers slowly descend from the sky, eventually landing on the scorched earth before the flight decks open and discharge hundreds of mechanized fighter jets and scout planes that swarm the sky. Whilst a gigantic ramp slams onto the seared floor to allow the legions of robotic soldiers and tanks to file out and begin their assault. Their laser eyes dart across the land, scanning for movement. As the searchlights of gunships overhead light up the piles of skulls and metal wreckage.

High above a peak, watching the CRI immobilize within the valley, four gas mask wearing figures stand with spears in hand and automatic rifles slung over their shoulders. Their robes flail in the wind as they silently observe the movement of their foes.

“Looks like they’ve grown in numbers. Do you think we have a chance?” One asks. Her voice is that of one aged in their mid-twenties. After a brief silence, the other responds. A male voice emitting from underneath his gas mask.

“This time it will be different. Let us return to base and prepare our secret weapon.”