| abstract
| - Paul O'bryne sat in his small trench, clipping a magazine into his aged Skorpion sub machine gun. Ten years earlier, in 2020, he had never even picked up a weapon, much less knew how to properly fire one. He had just been a History teacher at a small High school in Ireland. He'd been married and expecting a kid when he had heard the news that would change the Earth forever. On April twelfth of 2020, an alien force had landed near the City of Washington DC, in America. Unlike the old doomsday movies and shooters of the day, these aliens had not come into orbit, guns blazing. Their wasn't even any weapons on the shuttle that had brought them down. The US Air Force had intercepted the shuttle in the atmosphere and guided it into a military base outside of the city, where the US Marine Corp had intercepted them. The aliens were in black armor that looked like it could take a round from a Bazooka and walk away unscathed. The two groups faced each other for what seemed like an eternity, before another alien, dressed in the same black armor but without the helmet, stepped out. This alien, this Kentare, was short yet muscular, with a face that looked like a rat that had been pumped with steroids. In hindsight, O'bryne thought, the look fitted his character. The TV broadcast of the meeting had come out many days later, he knew, because it took so long for the Marines to decide it was safe. The Rat later addressed the world from the Senate building in the US, explaining that his force was a group of aliens known as the Zemka Empire. These Zemka had millions of systems under their control, they had said, and where willing to offer a helping hand to Earth. Then they made the proposition that would change the face of the world. They proposed that whatever countries who chose to join them would later be given a spot of honor in their grand army, and would receive a few systems in return for their soldiers. To the Zemka, a few systems per country was nothing, by for any country on earth, the proposition caused delusions of grandeur. O'bryne had known from the start that these Zemka wanted nothing but men and material for their army from earth. He knew it would only lead to the Damnation of civilized society. He had learned the mistakes of the past, and knew this would lead into horror. The world, however, didn't seem to learn from past mistakes, and so, it fell into flames. For the next seven years civil wars unlike any other in history would rip across the world, from America to China, and from Australia to Russia. Very few countries remained peaceful during this time. The people of the Republic of Ireland had almost fallen for this man's trap, and over the course of a year the government did all it could to hold down violence. Northern Ireland, however, became apart of such a battle. However, by 2021, a speech was given by the at the time leader of the Republic of Ireland's leader, John Mcmillan, of the Republic of Ireland, , gave a fiery speech that the path of the Zemka would lead to the damnation of society. The people were awestruck by the speech, and all the rioting of the past year seemed to calm down. Three weeks later, Price was killed through unknown means. The people knew he had been silenced, but took head of his final warnings, and stayed neutral for the next six years. By 2025, Russia, China, and Spain had become the first three to have their governments abolished and join the Zemka. Spain had given up peacefully after much debate, mostly due to an unstable economy, but China and Russia had been ripped apart by Civil wars, and overthrown their government, only to join Spain in destroying it and joining up. Man small countries followed suit. By 2027 the world was divided into Zemka territories and singular countries. The Zemka hadn't sent in a single soldier to any of the civil wars, saying diplomatically, "This is a choice your planet must make on its own." The Zemka did, however, continue to make speeches in Senates and parliaments all over the world, while arming their newly acquired soldiers with lesser Zemka armor and a rare few with Zemka weapons. Finally, on January thirtieth, 2028, America's bloody civil war ceased, leaving, for the first time since the beginnings of the Civil wars, democracy standing as the winners. The Senate began to make preparations to help other fledgling governments across the world do the same, when the face of wars changed once more. The Zemka had been outraged that America had maintained its government instead of joining up. So, on February seventh of 2028, a fleet of one hundred Zemka war ships burned America into crisps, killing trillions of lives, and leaving the formerly greatest country in the world a barren wasteland. The few governments left, still dealing with their civil wars, were outraged. France marched onto Spain in response to the destruction of America, only to have their armies destroyed by Zemka infantry, who wore armor that were near impossible for bullets to take out. Simultaneously, the Zemka fleets took Paris forcefully, ending the attack and subduing France simultaneously. The British government would have sent help, had it not had a force of fully equipped British rebels, aided by Zemka Untabelks, the Zemka's version of Special Operations Soldiers, at the bridges of London. The great city fell in two days, and the rebels gave their armies to the Zemka as a peace offering, and, one other prize that they had no right to give. So, on February nineteenth, 2028, the newly dubbed British Zemka force marched on the Republic of Ireland, and, in effect, Northern Ireland as well. The same could be said for Scotland and Wales, who both also stayed out of the war for the most part. By February, they had the small states and the neutral country of the Republic of Ireland taken over, and presented it as a gift to the Zemka. The Zemka saw these conquered peoples as below their radar and unable to be good soldiers, and so made the countries farmers and factories convert their resources to helping the Zemka's massive army. Over the next two years, the Zemka purged all major resistances on earth. Most were handled rather firmly, by blowing the general area of the resistance into dust. Without the stronger countries like America and the other countries of old, the smaller countries fell with ease. And so the Zemka were now just starting to pull forces out, little by little. Ireland choked without the foreign exports they needed, as did many other countries. Many small yet futile resistance movements had spurred within the last two years, but most were to small to do much good or were wiped away if they got to big. Paul's unit was of the former. After the British Zemka forces had take his son into their military and killed his wife two years ago, he and some others had gathered with a Special operations veteran, O'Bryne being one of the first, and one of those first few who knew how to shoot, after he had defended his town from the Brits in a small militia and failed, even with he and his friends training for the inevitable for two years, he'd failed to defend his family and friends. He was the last man alive and free from that village. A Veteran taught O'byrne all he knew, and together, they trained Resistance soldiers, and gathered weapons to fight the Zemka. He became the sniper expert in his squad, and a team strategist. This was not O'brynes first attack on the new Zemka Brit bastards, but it was the first time they took on a whole scout squad. The biggest problem, he knew, would be the Zemka Spec op at the lead of the group, who, unlike rest of the squad, was an alien commander sent to keep the Brits in line. He wore a heavier set of Black Armor that was similar to the English's Dark armor helmets with HUDs. But unlike the others, he wore the full Helmet, Visor and all. Paul's leader, a burly war veteran turned farmer named Dillan Morten, but who everyone just called "Monty", feared the squad would lose all its members just getting to him, much less taking burning through the bullet repellent armor. "Okay boys," Monty whispered through his mic, on the squad's channel. "Don't blow your cover 'till all the Brit bastards walk over. Don't panic when they walk over your trench hole, they won't be able to tell that we're here." "How do you know, Monty?" Steve Delanny whispered. "Because the Brits aren't going to think of keeping their eyes open for an attack from below. They'll be to busy thinkin' we'll attack from the trees. That gives us the advantage. Now, I don't want no shite out their, boys. Don't pull no heroics. I'm talking to you, Finigan!" Josh Finigan was the newest of the group, a farmer from the coasts. He had been trained by O'bryne to be a soldier in the resistance. He was known for risky moves in Basic training. They were to short on men to be able to deal that. Every death cut deep into a fifty man squad, even when their were only twelve men here. Footsteps began to fall over Paul. He fought to keep his breathing steady as the squad marched right through. He had little protection, only his skorpion and the element of surprise, which could be broken at any time. He tried to reassure himself that the thick grass he used to cover the trench hole was enough, but somehow he knew that he was in a very fragile position. Even the fact that he'd come up with the idea did little to calm him: he'd taken a Japanese tactic of hiding in camouflaged trench holes, laying in wait for allied forces to march over, from his studies, and knew it would be unexpected, but he also knew it was an old tactic, and would not be hard for the enemy to figure out, if given a reason to. He started to hear the steps become less frequent, and double checked his skorpion. It was a largely outdated weapon, like all the Irishmen s weapons, but it would do its job. He'd rather have one of the AUG Rifles from back at base, but this mission called for smaller weapons so they could fit in the foxhole. "Okay, lads on three....." Monty said. "One, two, three!" O'byrne burst from his foxhole, looking down the path. He let off a burst into the back of three Brit's heads before the scouts realized they were under attack. The fifteen man squad had been reduced to ten by the time they let off their weapons, killing two of the Irishmen.The Zemka Spec Op was calmer than the Brits, unclipping his alien looking Rifle and and taking down three men, one of them Delanny, O'byrne barely had time to register, as the Irish rebels took out the last of the British Zemka. The remaining five soldiers, Monty, Josh, Larry O'Brian, Billy Shay, and himself, spread out and started laying fire into the Zemka's balck armor, but with little success. The Uzi's and Skorpions were doing little but rattle off his armor. The Zemka remained calm, placing a three shot burst through O'Brian, and sending the remaining four bursting for cover. "That armor's impenetrable!" O'Byrne spat, swapping magazines. "Yeah, well, keep up the god damn fire, its gotta stop it eventually." Monty said, unclipping a use magazine and replacing it into his old military issue P90. He moved up, placing rounds into the Zemka's helmet. The Zemka commando staggered from the blow, but managed to put a few shots into Monty's leg as he stumbled onto his knees. Billy Shay moved from cover to help their fallen commander, while O'byrne moved up opposite them, putting a shield of bullets into his foes chest plates. Suddenly, Josh burst from cover, Uzi blazing. "Josh, get back to cover!" O'bryne yelled in vain. The young rebel tackled the Zemka, putting a three round burst into the bastards visor. The glass chipped and left indents, but nothing more. Josh yelled a series of curses at the Zemka, and drew a grenade from his belt. The following explosion drowned out any pleas Paul had for Josh not to do it, and sent him tumbling from the force of the explosion. As he regained consciousness, Billy Shay gave him a sad smile. "I'm glad to see you survived." "Is Monty okay?" "Yeah, he'll be fine. Might be out of action for a few months, but it should heal up nicely." Paul looked over at the remains of Josh and the Zemka. Josh had been blown to shreds, bits of his entrails were scattered around the scene. Paul had to stop himself from puking. "Bloody Gobshite." Monty said, more sad than angry. "I told him no heroics." "He saved our lives, sir." Billy said. "At the cost of his own. A damn waist of a good soldier." He leaned down by a chunk of Josh's chest, and tour off his tags. "C'mon , lets get outta here. A hot shower, and some food. That's what we need." "You mean that's what we need." Billy said, pointing at himself and Paul. "What you need is to get your leg fixed up." "It's fixed up." "No, it isn't. I stopped the bleeding and took out the bullet. That's not a clean up, that's a half ass attempt at keeping it from killing you before we get back." Billy scolded. Though his army medic days were far in the past, his bedside manor leaked through for a wounded teammate more often then not. Monty just growled and nodded his head. Yes, a hot shower was what he needed. Some food, maybe some fun. As long as he put off sleep as long as possible. He really didn't want to deal with the nightmares tonight.
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