THE CHOSEN

It was two days short of new year, and it was a cruel wind which battered the country of Madagascar, in which the Global Defence Legion had its base of operations.

A soldier, his transport dirtied by the storm and the mud paths, drove down an abandoned road into the mountains. He then stopped, for apparently no reason, and proceeded to navigate along the precarious path. A second later, he was gone. After passing through security the soldier made his way towards the briefing room, where he was expected by the base commander. As he turned a corner, he was thrust face to face with a colonel.

"Well, what do we have here then?" the colonel leered, confident that he drew superiority over this man who carried no rank or insignia of any type.

"Get out of my way, you pompous windbag!" with this, the stranger walked off. A few seconds later came the call; "Stop that man!". Immediately, the stranger was taken into custody by a nearby security escort. When the stranger was properly contained, the colonel began:

"What is your rank?"

"Greater than yours."

"Who is your commanding officer?"

"No-one."

At that moment, the base commander, who had come to see what had happened to his guest, arrived at the scene and shouted "Leave that man alone! He has my protection whilst inside this installation, and should be treated as you would treat me."

The commander then turned on his heel, with his guest on his arm. "You really should leave the lower ranks alone."

With this, they finally entered the briefing room, in which there were seated all high-ranking military officers.

"Update me on the situation so far." commanded the guest, after introductions had been made.

"It’s bad. The advance force has scattered its radar trail and are advancing on the American Base. The ‘Year 3000’ bug, as the civilians are calling it, has spread to the security database." This snappy reply came from an intelligence officer from the Pentagon.

"Tell me about the virus."

"It transmits all files it comes in contact with simultaneously to the mother transport. It’s got up to the personnel files, but if it reaches the satellite defence controls, those particle cannons could do some major damage to this base, or any city on the globe."

"Can you transmit information from your tracking room directly to here?"

"Yes, Sir."

As the giant T.V. screen came to life, the commander thought to himself: Can we stop these invaders without resorting to the project J weaponry? And if not, what effect will that weaponry have on our population?

"As you can see, the enemy forces are 40km from our base in North America, NORAD 2, these troops are moving via the mountains and should not be spotted by the general population. The ships are entering Russian and French air space, and the virus is disrupting power in Tokyo, Amsterdam, and Massachusets."

"So it’s not good."

"No, Sir. May I recommend a vote on the use of the Project J weaponry?"

"Yes. All in opposition?"

Not a single voice or hand was raised. "All in favour?"

Every arm was raised.

"Well, I believe that is called an Unanimous decision. Release the titans. First wave only. Ready the Electro Magnetic pulse, and boost the power output on the Particle cannons. And get those Ion cannons operational. Gentlemen, you have one hour to save your planet."

As the stranger walked from the room, he turned and said: "The United Nations thanks you for your co-operation."

So it came to pass that an hour later a lone engineer wandered along a sterile corridor of an underground base half a kilometre under the Sahara desert. As he wandered through a nearby door, into a massive hanger, and stood and admired the work which had been put into making the 40 foot robots in front of him come to life. They couldn’t do much, but they could take orders. A few minutes later, he had to make way for the squad of pilots who were supposed to semi-pilot those massive weapons of war. Shortly after that, he received a call to fix the power relays for the E.M.P. cannon. He believed his life was good, even if it meant being on round-the-clock call. That was before he caught his first glimpse of a Chosen warrior, altered by machinery, wearing power suits more advanced than the armour that he was sometimes called into produce. Very shortly after that, he was dead.

The global war was not going well at all for the Legion. However, their orbital emplacements were destroying every Chosen ship coming within range of the 20 ton cannon. Despite even these precautions, the Chosen troops had already landed. Due to the new weaponry being employed, extra staff had been called in to the secret installations. It was these staff movements which had given away the positions of the most advanced bases and weapons on the Earth. Except for the technology of the intruders, that is.

No matter what happened, not even the might of the titans could stop the steady advance of the invaders. However, no-one had noticed that none of the troops were moving towards the major cities-not even the personnel in the fortified bunker under the deep Madagascan mountainside. Monitors in all military and all governmental buildings around the world switched to static and the tuned themselves into a new frequency. On the screen was a disfigured human. On closer inspection, his disfigurement was not biological, but technological. He had implants across his face. The 'man' then said the following, heard by all people with any power on the globe:

"I am the commanding officer of the Chosen ship "Vengance". We have control of your military. We have control of your broadcasts. We have control of your planet. If anyone is considering the option, this is not a hoax. For any other inquirers, yes, I am a human. We were chosen to leave Earth by an anti-slavery council twenty years ago. That was by our time-scale. For you, we have not even left yet. For you, we come as a saving grace, for in two years time you will be invaded by the Scree. They will conquer the planet and enslave the human race. We have come back to stop this catastrophe before it happens to our people all over again. We come to help you. We seek friendshi...."

The transmission was cut off. The Vengance had been destroyed. The Ion cannons had become operational.

For a time, the world got over the attempted attack by the Chosen forces, and many forgot the dire warning the chosen had brought.

That is, until the Scree attacked.