Summer comes to a crashing end…
Ten-year-old Kevin Taggert prefers to stay home with his video games, but his parents insist he join a summer sports program. Exactly on the day the Vordac raid Earth. With his little sister depending on him for protection, Kevin must find the strength and wisdom to keep them both safe.
Before they both end up dead, or even worse: as life-long slaves of the Vordac.
Summer Crash (Zerralon 1.1)
Part 1: Beginnings
“Incoming enemy forces. All civilian ships institute emergency hyperspace jump to a safe location.”
The message was broadcast in the open. Stars twinkled above the curve of Alpha Centuri Prime as ships obeyed the order.
Other twinkles announced the arrival of forces, both Galactic Patrol and Vordac. The latter to begin their attack on the Galactic Patrol space station and ground base. The former to protect both bases and civilian cities, installations and spaceports.
Only, the Vordac ships continued coming. Creating a shimmering cloud in space from the hyperspace jumps and glowing engines. Primed, at full power, ready to fight. To attack and bring to heel those who defied their self-proclaimed right of rule.
Encrypted Galactic Patrol communications blossomed with worry and updating information. A data-beam informed the main Galactic Patrol base on Earth of the unexpected numbers. The Alpha Centuri base would not be able to hold of this many. How many bases could?
Another twinkle appeared, unnoticed by either side. An unexpected arrival neither side knew of or anticipated.
A surprise the occupants within hoped to use to their advantage. To give the base and the human colony a chance against the mounting Vordac armada.
“Block him! Block him!”
Block him how?
Kevin did the only thing he could think of. He sidestepped to tackle Greg from the side.
It didn’t quite work out that way.
Kevin’s left foot didn’t quite clear the right foot. He went down in a flail of arms. That he fell into Greg was only a lucky accident.
He heard Sean laughing almost hysterically. Greg grunted as he came to land part on Kevin, and part on the football. For his trouble, Kevin got the tip of Greg’s grass-stained shoe in his face, hitting his nose with a painful jab that had him rolling the other direction to try to protect himself.
Kevin came up to his knees, holding his nose with both hands. “Ow!”
Greg rolled over, slamming the football in the grass next to him, demanding, “That was a tackle?”
Kevin saw Sean’s bigger shoes run into view. His voice cracked as he said, “I guess that’s better than before.”
“Right. First time I nearly break an ankle. Now a bloody nose.” His nasal-voice from holding his nose set both of his older brothers into more laughter.
Which only made Kevin more angry. Or depressed about himself. The two alternated in waves.
Two little shoes of bright pink and purple planted themselves next to him. “Sean Taggert, you are fourteen years old. You know better than to beat up on your little brother.”
“He didn’t beat me up,” Kevin said even as Sean started to protest.
“If he’s going to go into a summer sports program, then he needs to learn sports,” Sean added. “Besides, it was Greg he was trying to tackle.”
Kevin looked up, finding his six-year-old sister Christy with her hands on her hips, her blue skirt flaring out from a ruffled top, eyes blazing as bright as her red hair as she glared up at gangly and long-limbed Sean.
“I’m thinking football isn’t his game,” Greg said. Twelve, but with muscles and fine motor skills well advanced of his twelve years of age. Kevin cringed when he suggested, “What about soccer?”
Right. Soccer. His legs and knees would be one mass sea of bruises after only a few minutes.
“No more today. Shoo. Time for a nurse to step in,” Christy told them in no uncertain terms, pushing them away.
“You aren’t a nurse,” Greg said. He ducked away when she waved at him away.
“Go! Play with Sean.” Christy showed her strength by pulling at Kevin’s arm, nearly knocking him over. “To the hospital with you!”
“They were just trying to help me,” Kevin told her as she led him off the front lawn and into the house. He should go back outside and try a few other things. After all, he would soon meet his doom. Any and all practice was vital if he wanted to survive.
“Helping you bleed.” She pushed him into a dining room chair. “Now, let me look.”
“It’s already stopped bleeding.” The fact he still sounded nasal probably didn’t help convince her.
“Yeah, right.” She made him sit still as she doctored him up with face tissues and a wet wash cloth.
“Greg is right. You were born mothering everyone,” Kevin said, sitting and taking it. It meant a little more time before getting beaten up in the name of good wholesome sports.
Christy scrunched up her face. “Someone has to help Mom out with a house full of boys.”
And lucky him, at the second youngest at ten, he got to be the one she mothered the most.
Greg poked his head inside. “What about basketball? We haven’t tried that lately.”
“No trying to kill Kevin!” Christy shouted at him before Kevin could respond.
“Siblings are not allowed to kill each other,” Nanny-Bot said, hovering into the room barely above the floor. The upper body looked just like human, complete with smooth articulating mouth and eyes. The bottom fused to come to a disk base with the hovering mechanism.
One of the many robots who helped in the house, Nanny-Bot was the most intelligent and expensive. But with four kids in their family and both parents working, it made sense to make the expenditure. At least, that was what he’d heard his parents say over the diner table when discussing finances.
“Greg, inform Sean we shall soon leave. Kevin, your father will drive you. Please prepare yourself.” Nanny-Bot continued on her way into the kitchen with a few dishes.
Right. Prepare for his doom. And here it came, with rocket thrusters on.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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Part of the Forward Motion Flash Friday Challenge.