After the apocalypse what rises from the ashes

ATR Chapters

Ch 56: A Long, Long Time Ago...

Posted by The Spectre on November 25, 2012 at 12:40 AM Comments comments (2)

Recording From Recovered Alien Craft (Translated By Dr. B. Banzai):



“It all went to shit so fast. Only a few short hours after the terrorist attack, the virus was planetwide. The infection spread so fast that it could not be contained. The only hope was to leave the planet. I loaded up my freighter with as many “paying customers” as I could stuff into the cargo modules and broke atmo just as the Imperial ships arrived to quarantine the planet. They warned all ships attempting to leave the surface to turn back or be destroyed then opened fire on any that did not obey the order. Several ships of all classes were vaporized by the Star Destroyers’ turbo laser batteries and proton torpedo volleys as the Interdictor Cruisers began setting up their overlapping interdiction fields. I knew that if they got their fields set up, escape was impossible. I didn’t have time to program jump coordinates. I just dialed in random numbers and punched the hyper drive into action. I made it out just in time.

During the jump, I could hear bloodcurdling screams coming from the ship’s comm system. There must have been some “infected” among the hundreds of “passengers” in the modules. With nowhere to escape as the modules are sealed off from the main superstructure of my ship, they were goners. After awhile, the screams stopped…and THEIR moaning began. My ship was filled with THEM.

As I reverted to realspace, I truly realized how bad of a situation I was in. Instead of the streaming stars reverting into familiar pinpricks of light, I exited hyperspace into a maelstrom of cascading colors. I had no idea where I was, the space visible through my windows was a nightmare of spacial anomalies. Energy vortexes, rifts, wormholes and Gods know what else they were filled my entire view screen! Instruments were useless as the conflicting readings they were showing made no sense at all. Before I could react, my ship was caught in the gravitational pull of the closest anomaly!

The pull was too strong and I was pulled through the event horizon of the anomaly and the universe went crazy! Time had no meaning. It felt simultaneously like only a moment had passed and that thousands of years had gone by. As the ship tumbled through the swirling multicolored vortex I knew I was screwed royally. Who knew where in the Universe I would end up?

After an eternity which could have been an instant, I have finally emerged from the anomaly above a medium sized blue/green planet. None of the instrument readings are familiar to me. There are no galactic navigation beacons broadcasting and none of the signals I am receiving from my antennas are in any of the known galactic languages.

Oh shit! Something’s coming right at the ship! Controls are still offline…I can’t get out of the way…(static)…(transmission ends)”




High above the Earth, an explosion lights up the sky. A NASA probe returning from Venus has just collided with an unknown alien vessel and both craft are now locked in earth’s gravitational embrace and begin their decent to the ground in a long sweeping arc. As the alien vessel begins to break up, several cargo modules violently rip free of their moorings, dropping to the Earth below in a path that deposits them across almost the entire northern hemisphere of the planet….






Several Miles Outside Cardiff, England:



The countryside is littered with debris from the still mostly intact rectangular container. Several soldiers in green fatigues sift through the wreckage, collecting everything. Among the debris are metallic crates and canisters filled with unknown chemicals and devices, all of which are labeled and put into the backs of several covered trucks bearing “U.N.I.T.” markings.

Lt. Hyde-White, the senior officer on site asks for a status report.

“Sir, the technologies are nothing like that used by any of the catalogued species we have encountered in the past. It’s not Dalek, Cyberman, Zygon, Sontaran, any of them. We found one device we thought might have been a Silurian weapon, but the design is not quite the same.” answered Pvt. Schiffield.

“Then I assume we can expect a visit from our “Scientific Advisor” before too long. He always seems to show up when something like this happens” comments the Lt.

Schiffield hesitates a moment and adds nervously “There’s something more, sir. We found what appear to be tracks, lots of them. Some appear to be staggering and some appear to be dragging themselves or others. The tracks are heading towards Cardiff….”

Hyde-White rubs his temples, the beginnings of a migraine taking hold. “Call all of this into HQ and take a squad to investigate the tracks. Call up some reserves from Action Force if you have to. Also, you had better alert those nut jobs at Torchwood. Let them know that trouble is heading their way….”






An Undisclosed Location In The California Desert:



Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. clean up a crash site in the middle of the desert. Two VTOL “Quinjets” depart the scene loaded with wreckage from the cargo module. On the ground, a small group of unmarked trucks are also being loaded with pieces of the module and it’s cargo. A small, wiry agent directs the cleanup operation with an air of confidence.

“Tag everything. Make a full manifest of all debris, containers, etc. and make sure we know where every speck is going. I want every nut and bolt accounted for.”

The agent, Phil Coulson, knows his men will do their usual impeccable job. Most of the recovered artifacts will be sent to S.H.I.E.L.D.s many scientific research labs while others will be sent out to their various “consultants” such as those at Stark Enterprises, the Baxter Building, and the Banzai Institute.

As another truck is getting buttoned up, two Men in identical black suits and sunglasses appear in front of Coulson and the assembled agents. “Good job gentlemen, but we’ll take it from here” says the first Man, a tall, craggy looking Caucasian. “Just who do you think you are?” asks Coulson.

“S.H.I.E.L.D., Division Six” replies the first Man. “I am Agent White and this is Agent Black” he says pointing to the second Man, a tall, skinny African American. “There’s no Division Six…” Coulson begins to reply but is cut off by a blinding white flash.

The second Man angrily turns to the first “What did I tell you about that racist bullshit, Kay? How about next time I go first and introduce you as Agent Cracker?”

The first Man, Kay, simply points to the series of tracks leading away from the crash site, tracks nearly obliterated by the wash from the Quinjets’ thrusters, that head off into the desert towards the distant lights of one of the many small towns that dot the desert landscape. “Keep your mind on the mission, Slick.”

Kay pulls out his gleaming chrome communicator. “Zed, we have a problem…”





Somewhere In The Countryside Outside Pittsburgh PA:



A large crater has been blasted into the side of a hill. Most of the fires have gone out, but a few small brushfires still burn here and there both inside the crater and nearby where bits of debris landed and ignited the grass. In the center of the crater sits the twisted remains of an unknown alien spaceship. A large flatbed sits outside the crater waiting to receive it’s load. An enormous crane begins to lift the wrecked craft from it’s resting place.

“Careful with her, she’s not in the best of shape and I’d like to get her back to the Ranch more or less intact!” shouts a tall, dark-haired man clearly in charge of this operation. Another man, tall, bleached blond and impeccably dressed walks up to him. “Buckaroo, do you think it’s Lectroids again?” asks the second man.

“Naw, Tommy, not Lectroid tech. This is something new. World Watch 1 got reports that this little lady broke up in the atmosphere and dropped pieces of herself all the way from jolly old England to right here in PA”. Tommy, looking perplexed, replies “How’s that possible, Boss? There’s nothing between the UK and here but the Atlantic Ocean and New Jersey”. “She took the long way around, Tommy” replies Dr. Buckaroo Banzai.

A tall, muscular woman walks up to the two men laughing. “Good thing you are so pretty Tommy, because you sure are dumb.” Buckaroo looks amusingly at the woman, Long Tall Sally, and replies “Tommy’s Perfect, that’s why I have kept him around so long. Now let’s get this show on the road. I want to get back to the Ranch before Mrs. Johnson’s New Year’s Eve Party starts.”

Banzai looks up into the darkening sky. “Tonight we say goodbye to 2009 and welcome in 2010. I have a feeling it’s going to be an interesting year…”