Travelling via a cobbled together ramshod transmat operated by technologically inept warlords is, surprisingly enough, not the most pleasant of experiences. The sensation is hard to describe, but I shall endeavor nonetheless. It's as if your atoms become sort of wobbly, as quantum uncertainty manifests in a macroscopic environment. Then, the space between your molecules seems to stretch to impossibly vast degrees. But not like your body itself is expanding, more like the spaces between spaces grow until you are as intangible as the wind. Your body feels like a haze, an echo, the cloud of dust in your vague outline, as if in a cartoon. As you reach the limit at which you are sure you are technically not considered physical matter, you feel everything snap back to reality. You gain mass and weight, gravity takes hold pinning you to the floor as your chest constricts. Your blood feels like a viscous paste in your veins. This is merely you becoming aware of your physical presence like never before. Where you realise all the things you've learned to tune out. You know how you don't notice your tongue or your breathing until it's pointed out, and suddenly it's just there?
After this existential ordeal, I managed to regain my presence of mind. I was standing in a small room, decorated with ochre rust, hissing pipework, metallic mesh and scattered chains. It was more decaying submarine than Apple Store. Beside me, Sue and Dave were groggily adjusting to life in space.
"Artificial gravity, so that's nice." I said, cheerily. I was channeling the Doctor, hoping to reassure my friends while I desperately searched for the next step in my plan.
"I think I'm going to be sick." moaned Dave, looking for the nearest corner.
"What's with the Silent Hill decor?" asked Susan, who was acclimatising remarkably quickly to this lifestyle.
"Can't all be sleek lines and chrome curves" I replied. "This is a hard working machine!"
"What more could we expect from the Vakarians anyway?" she said with a smile.
"Now you're getting it." I beamed back. "Let's check on Dave, eh?"
We founding behind us, gawping in awe out of a viewport at our home. Earth hung in the starry void, looking so peaceful and serene, no sign of the chaos occurring on the surface.
"Christ on a bike!" Dave exclaimed.
"Magnificent, isn't it." I said, with a little more decorum. Without thinking, my hand found Susan's as we stared at the beauty of our world. We were rudely interrupted by the arrival of several Vakarian soldiers. We were marched briskly through several similarly dingy corridors until we reached what I took to be the bridge of the vessel.
Our swords were taken from us and placed to the left of the room, guarded by our escort, along with the transmat device. On the right wall was a holographic display showing a two dimensional map of Earth, cluttered with alien text and symbols showing the process of various skirmishes. Three areas of the map were highlighted by coloured circles. A green disc covered Cork, while a red disc was close to Tokyo. An orange circle was somewhere in the vicinity of Machu Picchu, Peru, but I couldn't derive any particular meaning from these. At the rear of the room sat a throne decorated with weapons from several different cultures, upon which sat a corpulent Vakarian in grimy robes. One of his horns had been snapped off and a grizzled scar divided his face. I took him to have been a warrior skilled and decorated enough to rule his brethren, though he had long since passed his peak and had given in to the comforts of power.
He spoke as if gargling gravel, his voice deep and commanding, every bit the old soldier.
"So, these are the slanderous humans who have insulted us?"
"And you, I presume, are the leader of this dishonourable bunch of murderous fiends." I responded.
"Know your place, human, and do not lecture me about honour. You are a weak and pitiful race, who have abandoned the solemnity of combat, you cannot know honour." He boomed.
"Then, why have I been summoned here? Why go through with my challenge if you invalidate me now?"
"Because honour is for the lower ranks. A tool used to keep my people in line. A true leader knows when to look beyond such concerns for the good of those he commands. I had to be seen to honour the deal you had agreed."
"Good to know humanity is not the only race whose politicians are prone to acts of vested interest and deceit."
Inside, I was panicking right about now. Coming here had been a mistake. This Vakarian was not bound by their limiting code of values I had exploited thus far. Maybe there was some other approach to take, but I was out if ideas.
Thankfully, Susan was there to pick up the slack, with some stalling questions of her own.
"How does a technologically inept race such as yourselves develop interstellar travel anyway?" She asked, hoping to distract him. He took the bait greedily.
"Do not insult us, human. The Shining Gods have raised us up to wage war across the cosmos. They gave us the ability to travel between worlds with the Paradox Engine. They granted us the power to eliminate unsporting advanced indigenous weaponry with the Pulsar Detonation."
Big words for a technophobic race, I thought to myself. Just who were these "Gods" or theirs anyway? And the word Paradox intrigued me. I wondered how it might operate, and if it meant what I thought it did, perhaps it might even be our salvation.
He intended to kill us, that much had become apparent to me. We were too dangerous to let live, and only remained alive because he was toying with us. Time was running out, when something happened to surprise us all. The holographic display fizzed with static. A woman's voice emanated from it, sounding frantic yet knowledgeable.
"Hacking the transmission feed now ma'am. This would have been so much easier if I'd still had a sonic. Ah well, needs must, so I've had to go old school."
A second voice, also female buy distinctly more mature replied.
"Very well, Osgood. We don't have much time, the soldiers outside are low on ammunition."
"Just as well we kept the retro weapons in storage, eh? These haven't seen action since the 90's!"
"Focus, and don't forget you inhaler."
"Right. *puff* Signal is locked, you're good to go ma'am."
The static resolved itself into a video feed. Two women were visible on the screen, a middle aged blonde woman in a dark business suit, and a younger woman in a labcoat and thick spectacles, elbows deep in some alien machinery. The older woman spoke directly to the camera.
"I am Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, Chief Scientific Officer of the Unified Intelligence Taskforce. I believe I am transmitting to the leader of the occupying force orbiting this planet. UNIT have located what appears to be a scout craft of some kind, which my tech team believe to be of some strategic advantage to your efforts. We seek your immediate surrender, or this asset will be destroyed."
Just seeing video again after two days without technology made me slightly emotional, idiotic as it sounds. Not to mention the inspirational sight of others standing up against the Vakarian threat. I didn't know what UNIT was, but I took it to be some kind of international group concerned with defending the Earth from external threats. I mean, if aliens are real, then why not some form of Men in Black?We were no longer in this fight alone!
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