By the time our leaders realized that there was a threat, the invasion had already begun. Our defenses were inadequate even in the best circumstances, let alone against a foe vastly superior in terms of numbers and technology.
It’s been weeks since anyone has heard from the Prime Minister. I doubt he made it to secure a location before they were overrun.
An explosion rocks the installation.
I’m thrown from my chair as the concrete walls crack and split while the lights flicker and go out. As I struggle to my feet, the backup generators kick in and the emergency lights come on.
Soldiers run just outside my door, followed by a sudden eruption of loud and intense gunfire.
Within seconds the entire installation is engulfed in silence.
They’re just outside.
I pull the top drawer of my desk open and take out a grenade. It feels cold yet comforting in my hand as the door is ripped from its hinges and tossed away.
They enter my quarters walking on three legs while two arms hold their weapons. Reddish-grey scales cover their bodies and I stare into their faces. Small yellow eyes straddling a wet pig-like snout, glare back.
They begin snorting and grunting, trying to communicate.
I don’t waste any time.
I pull the pin.