Invasion: The Fourth War

Invasion: The Fourth War

Interplanetary War Diary of Kai T'Pring


War. It shrouds our planet like an all-consuming plague, devouring everything in its path. We barely survived the Third World War, with a little under half the planet's population as both casualties and fatalities. Now, another World War is upon us. This time, however, instead of fighting amongst ourselves, we have finally banded together to repel an outside threat, a threat that is alien to us—literally. I fear that we are outmatched in this war. Though we are powerful among our own nations, these people from a distant world have firepower capable of wiping out a nation in a single blast. They have declared war on us, but we have little or no chance of actually mounting any kind of effective counteroffensive. Although I am not extremely knowledgeable about all that is happening right now, this much I know: it seems hopeless.


Since I am an orphan staying with a foster family, yet not really part of the family, I'm not told much about the current events going on in the world around us. I have to get all my information from outside sources. I'm getting pretty good at it, too. Yesterday, when I was coming home from school, I stopped by a newsstand to read the day's paper. I learned much about what has been happening over the past ten or eleven months that I hadn't known before.

The "Invaders," as they have come to be called, first arrived about ten months ago, with overtures of peace. They were taken to the foreign embassy, treated as guests of the utmost importance, and peace talks commenced. However, things went horribly wrong. Their ambassadorial party was invited to dine with our World Leader, so that they could discuss a treaty between our two peoples. The meal went fine, and the two Leaders, theirs and ours, talked of a permanent peace. All this was accomplished with the help of a "universal translator," developed by some of the most brilliant minds on our planet. After the meal, they were each escorted to private quarters. Late that night, over two thirds of their people died in agony, including their Leader. It seems that one of the foods that was served reacted adversely with their internal organs, causing massive system failures throughout their bodies. It was just terrible!

The highest-ranking alien left, Trevan, assumed Leadership of their delegation, and attacked our Leader verbally. They argued for a while about the cause of death, our Leader maintaining that it was a horrible accident, theirs accusing that it was on purpose, a desperate attempt to destroy a potential alien threat. After around twenty minutes, the alien Leader left in a fury. His parting words were: "No matter what it was before, you have a very real alien threat, now. Rest assured, I will be back."

The next day, when the alien ships left, our government was in an uproar. What the alien commander had promised sounded like no less that a full-scale invasion. They had not been on our planet long enough for us to get any kind of detailed tactical information on their ships or their weapons. We were one hundred percent in the dark on what to do to prepare.

I do not have a very high opinion of these aliens. They left in such a rush that they did not even take their dead to give them proper burials. How dreadful! I saw a picture on a magazine of one of the aliens, the first Leader of their party, I believe. I must confess that they are one of the ugliest lifeforms that I have ever seen. He was tall and pink, with a whole mess of rust red hair—I guess you would call it—covering his entire head, including his face! His eyes, mouth, and nose were the only things that showed from under the shaggy mane of hair. Although they are bipedal, like us, they look blobish. The abdomen of the one pictured bulged out, giving his midsection a distended appearance, and his legs were much longer than his torso. His fingers were in gloves, but looked long and twiggy. Apparently, our atmosphere does not agree with their bodies. Because of this, they wear tiny forcefield generators around their waists to hold in an artificial atmosphere similar to that of their homeworld. All in all, I think that they are very unpleasant-looking creatures.

After the aliens' small party left, they were gone for close to eight months, and then returned as promised, to fulfil their threat. That brings me to the present.


To finish from yesterday: three days ago, they returned, backed by the might of a full interstellar armada. Their Leader, the same younger man who accused us of murdering their ambassadorial party, contacted our Leader with a very simple message: "You are now at war."

Three of the largest ships, they had to be at least as long as two city blocks, stationed themselves over the three most important docking bays for our most advanced weaponry, weaponry that had been developed for the sole purpose of combating these aliens. A transmission was sent from the battleships to the government. It was something very similar to: "You have twelve of your solar hours to surrender, or face destruction. The choice is yours."

Of course, we could never have surrendered to them. They would have taken over our planet and probably made us all slaves on some barren asteroid out in the middle of nowhere. On the other hand, we were in no way prepared to fight a full-scale war with an alien hegemony clearly more powerful than we are even now. Our Leader knew this, and made what was probably the hardest decision of his life. "We will fight," he told us on a national broadcast that I was lucky enough to be watching. "We will defend our freedom and our honor against these 'Invaders.' They shall not take us without a fight, and I intend to give them a good one." We were once again at war.


That was a little over two weeks ago. It was rather overwhelming at first, and I must admit that I am still rather shell-shocked, especially after the twelve hours were up, and we gave them our response: "Our people will be at war with your people." We attacked immediately afterward, bombarding their ships with everything we had in the way of both planetary defenses, and large squads of small interstellar fighter ships. We managed to destroy only one of their ships, a small cruiser that strayed out of formation a little too close to a very large gun. Four days ago, they retaliated in full force. They leveled cities and bases and took out many major military installations. They seemed unstoppable.

Yesterday they attacked the World Government building in Alpha Province, completely destroying it. The survivors were taken as prisoners. Among them was our Leader, so now we are without a unified government. I fear that they are taking us apart a piece at a time. Maybe it would have been better had we surrendered.


Today, what is left of our military declared martial law over all remaining provinces in the world. We have been ordered to stay in our houses at all times. Food and other necessary items will be delivered by the military on a weekly basis. We will be safer in our houses than on the streets, as we all have strong bomb and radiation shelters in our basements just in case we are attacked: a mute testimony to wars long past.

This morning, I heard the noise of a medium sized hovercraft. When I went to look out the window, it was already retreating into the distance. However, I was just barely able to see the emblem on the back fin. It was not of this world. The war is closing in on our front door.

I am keeping quite busy helping the family. The mother is very worn out trying to raise five children during an interstellar war. Not an easy task for anybody! I try to help all I can, but I know that I have a tendency to get distracted by the news broadcasts. I want to know what is going on with the War. I pray every day that the "Invaders" will decide that we are not worth conquering, and go back home.

Another thing: since martial law has been imposed, all the schools were closed. That annoys me. I was going to graduate at the end of this semester. Now, I might not be able to do so. Of course, if we're all dead, it won't matter, now will it?


It is finished. The shortest World War in the history of our planet. One-third of the population is dead, and all for nothing. We have been conquered. We are no longer a free world, but the first submissive world in a new empire to be built by our conquerors. I don't think that I'll feel like writing for a long while. I feel too crushed inside. I keep saying over and over again in my mind, "We lost, we lost," but I still cannot truly grasp the concept that our lives are no longer our own. The concept that they now belong to those aliens who came to our planet what seems like an eternity ago. But I refuse to let them take who I am. They may come down to our planet and set up a dictatorship, and control our every move, but they cannot and will not control what I think. In my mind, I will always be free.


It has been a year and three months since I last wrote. My premonitions have come true. They did set up something of a dictatorship, although not quite as controlling. Just enough to remind us that they are still the conquerors, and we are still the conquered. However, not everyone is willing to accept that.

Seven months ago, while I was busy cleaning, I discovered something very interesting among my foster father's papers. It was a letter from the most wanted man on the planet, a freedom fighter who is rumored to be organizing troops with newly developed weapons to mount a counterstrike against our enemy. The people call him "The Guardian"; the alien "government" calls him a few other things. That night, I talked to my foster father about it. I told him that if he was in a rebel force, I wanted to help, too. I knew it was a big risk, but I had to take it. He told me that since my school major had been in high-tech computer programming, I might be useful. "Think about it for a week," he told me. "If, at the end of the week, you still wish to help, I'll get you in touch with the head of the resistance cell in our province." Then he left. I thought about it long and hard for the next week, and made my decision. I would join. I told my foster father, and he said that the cell leader would be visiting sometime within the next week. I could hardly wait!


To finish from yesterday: at the end of that week, I met the 'cell leader': my foster father. The man that he wanted me to meet and talk with is the Guardian himself! I talked with both of them for over three hours straight. As the Guardian got up to leave, he told me that my foster father would brief me on everything that I needed to know to start working on the guidance system for an advanced weapon system. I was excited and scared at the same time.

I started working early the next week. I was blindfolded for safety's sake, and taken to a secret base somewhere in a nearby mountain range. A woman, who had been there for about a year already, supervised me for a while. She watched my work for only an hour or so, decided that I was doing a satisfactory job, then left me on my own.

For six and a half months, my co-workers and I have been working on various parts of both a large interstellar craft, and the weapon of mass destruction that goes along with it. I started out helping with the guidance systems for the Sub-Atomic Disassociator, or SAD. It is an advanced energy particle wave emitter, with the ability to destroy the cohesion between atoms. After two months, they decided that I would do more good designing the onboard computers for the ship, the Vindicator, which is to carry it. That is what I have been doing for the last five or so months.


Yesterday, after I finished my work on the flight computers for the day, my foster father filled me in on the rest of the details for The Plan. It is more complex than I can adequately explain. However, I will do my best to put into words the parts that I understood.

The Guardian has no desire to drag our planet into another brutal war where more innocent people will be killed, nor does he wish to conquer the Invaders. His goal is to obtain our freedom and our standing as an independent and neutral planet. The job of the Vindicator is to transport the SAD to the Invaders' homeworld, where her crew will then threaten to release it. Although its very function sounds uncontrolled, it can be detonated in localized spots, and the damage will not spread outside of the targeted area. The Guardian is hoping to convince the Invaders to leave our planet. He still wishes to make peace with the Invaders, if at all possible. However, that may not be an option in their eyes. I do hope that they will at least agree to a treaty, even if a formal peace cannot be agreed upon.

I will have much more work during the rest of the week, and we are almost finished with the Vindicator and the SAD. Unless something goes wrong, we are planning to launch in three days.


Success! We launched today at 12:01. Everything went perfectly. The ship launched just as planned, leaving a beautiful arch of fiery smoke billowing up into the clear sky. It was amazing. The ship should arrive at the Invaders' homeworld sometime around the eighteenth day of next month. Then we will know if we have been successful in our endeavor.

One last thing before I finish. Today, I learned the name of the planet from which the Invaders originated, and what they call themselves. I had never heard either name mentioned before, either in news reports or in conversation. However, now I know, so from now on I shall refer to them and their planet by their rightful names.

This brings me to my last thought for now. In the mindset of every true avenger, I have only one thing to say to the Invaders: "Look out, Humans of Earth, here we come!"