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Contest: ENTER JUNE/JULY WRITING CHALLENGE - ID4

Tim Thomason

Rear Admiral
Rear Admiral
It's an alien invasion! Do you want to be the invaders or the plucky heroes who fight off the invaders? Are you a pre-warp civilization while Picard & crew mull over the first contact protocol during such an event? Is this the Hur'q and the Klingons?

Rules and stipulations:
1. Write about an Independence Day-style alien invasion in some manner. Maybe it's a misunderstanding. Maybe it's from the Federation perspective of two outside parties. Maybe it's the "true story" of how the Bolians gained warp capability after an attack by Sheliak pirates.
2. I don't care how long or short it is, as long as it follows Rule #1. Too long or too short might not get votes, assuming there are multiple entries this time. But to each their own.
3. Contest ends around July 30th, unless someone asks for an extension. I will post specific times (in GMT), depending on what my work schedule will be that day.
4. If there's a vote, voting will last a week (~August 7th). Hopefully there's a vote.
 
Does it have to be a story written specifically for this challenge, or could we post a previously written work that fits the parameters?
 
I prefer to be very loose with my restrictions, hence why I didn't put hardly any.

"Rule 2" is that there's no word count, so whatever you feel comfortable with, @XCV330

@Gibraltar As long as it's your own story, and fits the parameters of the contest, I don't mind a repost. New stories are preferable, so I would at least suggest a rewrite.

@Cobalt Frost No character restrictions, whatsoever. I like stories that can fit well into canon Trek, but if you're inspired to go in a different direction, go with your instincts.

I would suggest further that you either name your story as a contest entry, or link it here, so I don't miss it when voting time comes, although there's loads of time.
 
Invasion.
Demal Maglure sat next to his mission specialist during a protracted meeting of his council of advisors. Seventy ships were headed to his home planet. The Gramuk populous government had been in space nearly a decade. In the weeks before his initial spaceflights to prove his engine sound, Maglure had heard about the needs of design powerful weapons, weapons that would deter the invasion of alien armies. He debated and argued with well-meaning Generals that those weapons may lead to an arms race they would not be able to end. Fear was anathema to his missions of exploration. He wept, after leaving the meeting, realizing that those weapons would be useful today, had they simply been allowed to pursue them.
Invasion.
He heard the word often in his battles, exchanging labels of scientist for politician. A swarm of winged insects threatening the plant life in the southern regions was an invasion. We were to be eradicated by a political movement as they invaded the capital. An invasion of alien immigrants from the first worlds they explored would eradicate their culture.
They would be united in their fear of death, now. The Gramuk and their friends from Argonis and Demitrite.
Invasion.
He headed home. It would be another three days before this army would arrive. There was nothing more to be done. He had all of his meetings, his council knew what to do. But, even in knowing this, he wanted to do more. He wanted to end the fleet before they got there. But, with 13 ships in their whole fleet, what could they do? They were mobilizing. In three days, all could be lost.
He traveled HOME. Not to the bureaus of his office house, but to the village where he was formed. He looked often to his father, asking questions and dutifully, his father would answer, even those about death and loss, where we come from, and injustice.
“Never forget your power, Demal.”
Invasion.
Another trip to see the art station that had inspired his arduous journeys into space and science. Winged birds and futuristic stations on a backdrop of stars. The tiny trinkets they discovered, little more than space garbage, on their moon, from another civilization. He prepared his speech at this museum. How do you rally an entire planet from destruction? What do they need to hear? Can anything make him feel better?
Invasion.
He knew not who they were or why. They believed it was their rich mineral deposits. They believed it would be a matter of obtaining the wealth that had built their society. We attempt to contact them. Three words, garbled said:
“War…inevitable…destruction.”
The three days came quickly. He knew they would. People cried, some looted and rioted after his speech. Some prayed. Death and sadness filled this night. The last he may see alive.
“Let them.” He said. “It is our last bit of freedom.”
Invasion.
The fleet arrived, finally. He had been picking at his nails till they bled, for two days. They mobilized their defenses.
“This is Captain William T. Riker of the USS Titan. We are here to stop the Klingons from invading your world. We are here to mobilize a fleet so you are not dragged into our war. Please, clear us to set our 70 ships along the perimeter of your planet.”
“Agreed.”
The battle lasted nearly five days. And things were changed about the need to stop this from happening again. But, the Gramuk will survive.
Invasion.
 
Okay, unless someone objects (i.e. finishing up a story), I will post the contest poll in about 8 1/2 hours (Midnight British time, 8 PM Eastern Time).

Last call for final entries.
 
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