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That Time I Became A Dictator Of A Small Asian Communist Nation
- Thread starter HeroCooky
- Start date
- Original
The Secret Affair of Earth and Sky
- Location
- SEAsia
- Pronouns
- Thou
The Secret Affair of Earth and Sky
Wen Shi slowly returned to the waking world just in time to watch the setting sun through the laboratory's windows. His mind was still filled with the disconnect of dream and reality as he turned to the clock for the time, and absentmindedly noted the numbers.
5:59. Friday. Home. No, work.
Eventually, his brain started remaking the logic and coherence he lost when he submitted to the peaceful ministrations of temporary oblivion.
At least it's not nighttime. Yet.
Wen Shi adjusted his stool and moved it back just in front of the notes he'd been perusing before the temptation of slumber first set in. A heroic amount of papers had been read through, but a daunting stack of data, reports and research papers still remained. Still, it had to be done.
Now where was I?
The geologist had been one of the newer additions to the also-quite-recent Black Fire Alloy Institute, and a necessary addition, if he did say so himself, at the very least because of the island nation's volcano.
Yes. The volcano. That was the reason for his recent late nights in the institute.
It all began when one of his more junior colleagues had proposed and lead a field trip up the "mountain" with a few students. The goal had been to build up on-the-field experience while collecting some suitable specimens of volcanic properties for both study and display. They had succeeded, more so for the latter aspect.
The specimen in question lay before him now, encased in a custom-made box composed of glass and a special steel alloy. Two circular openings sealed by safety gloves built into the container allowed handling while ensuring the sample inside remained dry and uncontaminated. As much as possible, at least.
The Rock, as it had been emphatically nicknamed, was considerably heavy for its size, about 76 by 52 centimeters. It possessed a highly irregular shape with one side possessing an uneven, pitted surface, while the rest of its surfaces were more even in comparison. The fact that it seemed to have a thin outer layer or crust that appears to have been melted, and the incidental finding that it was also magnetic, suggested of one thing. It was a meteorite.
More like a shard of one. A shard of an even bigger specimen.
The melted layer suggested it had endured tremendous temperatures before, such as entry through the planet's atmosphere, but the differing surfaces and the wedge-like shape implied that it fragmented some time after entry. Perhaps upon impact. But that wasn't the most interesting part.
No, the most interesting part was that the group who found it did so when their guide led them to his shack next to some hot springs.
The guide, Yong, had told them a most entertaining tale, of how he'd woke up one day thinking the world was ending. A particularly stormy day, in fact, and how a rock, THE Rock, had crashed through the roof of his shack and lended right next to his bed, and nearly on top of his head. Coincidentally, that was also the day he found some hot springs right near where he lived.
He'd since kept the rock as a keepsake, and it had been hell and a half trying to convince him to part with it. But that's a story for another time.
In any case, the prevailing theory was that the sample did indeed come from a meteorite, and had been buried within the volcano for who knows how long. As luck would have it, volcanic activity had ended up propelling it from deep within the ground and up to the surface, along with steam and water.
The next questions were, where was the original crash site and where were the other fragments, questions that soon sparked an increased interest and further survey expeditions onto and around the volcano. One of his peers had even theorized that the original meteor may have even been the one that formed the volcano, crashing through the earth and sending the superheated contents pluming out onto the planet's surface.
This theory was clearly referring to one of the country's oldest and most popular myths, of how a god of the skies and a goddess of the earth had a secret romance despite the clear divide between the earth and sky. Retellings varied as to what exactly separated the lovers. In some versions, it was a war, in others, a jealous suitor or two. Another version spoke of the two belonging to feuding clans of gods, portraying them as star-crossed lovers. Or perhaps a combination multiple versions. Supposedly, they sought the help of a goddess of the seas, who hid an island in the middle of the nigh endless waters covering the world.
Wracked by storms and typhoons, the inhospitable island hid the couple's brief yet passionate affair, and soon became the home to their sole child, a child of ash and magma, a volcano that brought much destruction and devastation across the island in it's youth, but soon brought life and bounty to the island as it grew wiser, older and calmer. The name Guangchou was even said to have referred to the little god-child. Guang meaning "bright or light", and Chou meaning "darling". Yes, their bright little darling of a child.
Of course, how the earth and the sky could give birth to a volcano of all things had been a constant point of contention with the story and its logic. But then it was but a myth, so there wasn't much point arguing the case. Only, now however, the theory of a meteor falling from the skies and impacting the island to create a volcano made the myth at least a bit more credible.
On the other hand, the nation being in the Pacific "Ring of Fire" and all of its energetic volcanic activity continued to offer a counter to the theory, while also helping to validate it by giving an explanation as to how a meteorite could end up creating a volcano.
Still, Wen Shi and his colleagues could hardly pass such a chance up. The ability to study a geological object of an extraterrestrial nature would be invaluable to the study of geology, astronomy and, of course, metallurgy.
It was those thoughts that gave him the strength to continue his study well into the night. And, he surmised, it would continue to do so for the next few nights at least. Despite it all, however, he couldn't help but be thankful for the discovery, and that serendipitous trip up the mountain. It would no doubt advance Guangchou's knowledge base years ahead of where they were now, perhaps even catapult it beyond even the leading world powers today.
He also concluded that it was also fortunate since he could use the study as an excuse to experience those much talked about hot springs himself after his hard work was done.
And it was that comforting notion that accompanied Wen Shi as he closed up the lab and went home, underneath a clear, starry night sky.
Note: Gawd, this was easier to write in my head. Then I had to think about rock size, properties of meteorites, how much is lost on reentry (about 90% apparently). where you might find old meteorites that crashed centuries ago, and more. A seasoned geologist could probs pick this omake apart. Still, just handwave the breaks from reality yea?
Got three more omakes in mind. Let's see if i can get them out before next threadmark.
5:59. Friday. Home. No, work.
Eventually, his brain started remaking the logic and coherence he lost when he submitted to the peaceful ministrations of temporary oblivion.
At least it's not nighttime. Yet.
Wen Shi adjusted his stool and moved it back just in front of the notes he'd been perusing before the temptation of slumber first set in. A heroic amount of papers had been read through, but a daunting stack of data, reports and research papers still remained. Still, it had to be done.
Now where was I?
The geologist had been one of the newer additions to the also-quite-recent Black Fire Alloy Institute, and a necessary addition, if he did say so himself, at the very least because of the island nation's volcano.
Yes. The volcano. That was the reason for his recent late nights in the institute.
It all began when one of his more junior colleagues had proposed and lead a field trip up the "mountain" with a few students. The goal had been to build up on-the-field experience while collecting some suitable specimens of volcanic properties for both study and display. They had succeeded, more so for the latter aspect.
The specimen in question lay before him now, encased in a custom-made box composed of glass and a special steel alloy. Two circular openings sealed by safety gloves built into the container allowed handling while ensuring the sample inside remained dry and uncontaminated. As much as possible, at least.
The Rock, as it had been emphatically nicknamed, was considerably heavy for its size, about 76 by 52 centimeters. It possessed a highly irregular shape with one side possessing an uneven, pitted surface, while the rest of its surfaces were more even in comparison. The fact that it seemed to have a thin outer layer or crust that appears to have been melted, and the incidental finding that it was also magnetic, suggested of one thing. It was a meteorite.
More like a shard of one. A shard of an even bigger specimen.
The melted layer suggested it had endured tremendous temperatures before, such as entry through the planet's atmosphere, but the differing surfaces and the wedge-like shape implied that it fragmented some time after entry. Perhaps upon impact. But that wasn't the most interesting part.
No, the most interesting part was that the group who found it did so when their guide led them to his shack next to some hot springs.
The guide, Yong, had told them a most entertaining tale, of how he'd woke up one day thinking the world was ending. A particularly stormy day, in fact, and how a rock, THE Rock, had crashed through the roof of his shack and lended right next to his bed, and nearly on top of his head. Coincidentally, that was also the day he found some hot springs right near where he lived.
He'd since kept the rock as a keepsake, and it had been hell and a half trying to convince him to part with it. But that's a story for another time.
In any case, the prevailing theory was that the sample did indeed come from a meteorite, and had been buried within the volcano for who knows how long. As luck would have it, volcanic activity had ended up propelling it from deep within the ground and up to the surface, along with steam and water.
The next questions were, where was the original crash site and where were the other fragments, questions that soon sparked an increased interest and further survey expeditions onto and around the volcano. One of his peers had even theorized that the original meteor may have even been the one that formed the volcano, crashing through the earth and sending the superheated contents pluming out onto the planet's surface.
This theory was clearly referring to one of the country's oldest and most popular myths, of how a god of the skies and a goddess of the earth had a secret romance despite the clear divide between the earth and sky. Retellings varied as to what exactly separated the lovers. In some versions, it was a war, in others, a jealous suitor or two. Another version spoke of the two belonging to feuding clans of gods, portraying them as star-crossed lovers. Or perhaps a combination multiple versions. Supposedly, they sought the help of a goddess of the seas, who hid an island in the middle of the nigh endless waters covering the world.
Wracked by storms and typhoons, the inhospitable island hid the couple's brief yet passionate affair, and soon became the home to their sole child, a child of ash and magma, a volcano that brought much destruction and devastation across the island in it's youth, but soon brought life and bounty to the island as it grew wiser, older and calmer. The name Guangchou was even said to have referred to the little god-child. Guang meaning "bright or light", and Chou meaning "darling". Yes, their bright little darling of a child.
Of course, how the earth and the sky could give birth to a volcano of all things had been a constant point of contention with the story and its logic. But then it was but a myth, so there wasn't much point arguing the case. Only, now however, the theory of a meteor falling from the skies and impacting the island to create a volcano made the myth at least a bit more credible.
On the other hand, the nation being in the Pacific "Ring of Fire" and all of its energetic volcanic activity continued to offer a counter to the theory, while also helping to validate it by giving an explanation as to how a meteorite could end up creating a volcano.
Still, Wen Shi and his colleagues could hardly pass such a chance up. The ability to study a geological object of an extraterrestrial nature would be invaluable to the study of geology, astronomy and, of course, metallurgy.
It was those thoughts that gave him the strength to continue his study well into the night. And, he surmised, it would continue to do so for the next few nights at least. Despite it all, however, he couldn't help but be thankful for the discovery, and that serendipitous trip up the mountain. It would no doubt advance Guangchou's knowledge base years ahead of where they were now, perhaps even catapult it beyond even the leading world powers today.
He also concluded that it was also fortunate since he could use the study as an excuse to experience those much talked about hot springs himself after his hard work was done.
And it was that comforting notion that accompanied Wen Shi as he closed up the lab and went home, underneath a clear, starry night sky.
Note: Gawd, this was easier to write in my head. Then I had to think about rock size, properties of meteorites, how much is lost on reentry (about 90% apparently). where you might find old meteorites that crashed centuries ago, and more. A seasoned geologist could probs pick this omake apart. Still, just handwave the breaks from reality yea?
Got three more omakes in mind. Let's see if i can get them out before next threadmark.
Last edited:
Per Aspera…
- Location
- SEAsia
- Pronouns
- Thou
Per Aspera…
As the force of the world's gravity sought to crush his body to a pulp, Captain Hiro could not help but lament upon the fateful decision that lead to his current circumstances.
It all started when the Hunter's Shroud armor was ultimately rejected during the later rounds of equipment trials and selection when Guangchou's first domestically created bipedal tank was being designed. The team that had initially proposed and designed the armor prototype had immediately gone back to their assigned area and began revisions and further testing, wholly unwilling to concede defeat.
While the first subsequent revisions boasted only marginal baseline improvements evident only when comparing statistics and trial results, it was the later ones that had shown the more impressive innovations.
To start with, the components had immediately minor improvements in their alloying that, taken altogether, increased heat resistance and even granted further insight into how the heat conduction could be utilized. Improvements that, from what little he knew, came from the more discrete members of the Black Fire Alloy Institute acting as representatives in the Iron Tiger project.
While Hiro did not fully comprehend the exact science, he could at least understand that it meant improved performance from the armor.
Better yet an ambitious idea had come from one of the engineers of the possibility of using excess heat and purging it in order to create a separate and stronger heat signature that could act as a decoy against infrared homing technology. Granted, it was all still in the conceptual phase, but it was still enough to get some attention from the higher ranks. And Hiro, of course.
It was to be expected that aerial threats would be would one of the greatest, if not THE greatest, threat to the Iron Tigers should they be deployed in actual combat situations. As such, Hiro had volunteered for that subproject specifically, prioritizing it over the other projects and trials being constantly conducted in the research and manufacturing complex.
Even then, that was still fine, simply stress testing the armor and providing insights into effects of both heat and the technology on the Iron Tiger chassis and systems. Also, his girlfriend was pissed he'd begun devoting more time to someone else's project, but that was a different story altogether, and not as dire in the grand scheme of things. Which only pissed her off even more after he opened his big stupid mouth and said as much but, again, that's a story for another time.
No, his real problems began when one of the military representatives, a colonel from the air force, had proposed using the heat resistant alloys, cooling systems, and experimental Iron Tiger fuel mix in order to initiate Guangchou's first domestic ballistic missile program. Then a government-appointed physics expert had chimed in, stating how it could also be used for a space program. And then the rest of the facility had caught on and started chiming in with their own thoughts and suggestions, quickly taking sides between the military-minded missile idea, and the more civilian space program. Such was the research compound's newly found and passionately practiced tradition.
Of course, that had been months ago. The sequence of events that followed had been true to the spirit of the complex's staff, progressing with unrestricted enthusiasm. To avoid taking any sides, Captain Hiro had no choice but to profess neutrality by volunteering as the first human test pilot for the still-in-its-infantile-prototyping-stage rocket sled.
Now, the best safety measures and mechanisms had been designed and installed for the prototype, such that Hiro had the strongest alloy roll cage surrounding and protecting him from collisions; as well as a special suit and harness system attached to his pilot seat to prevent inertial forces from pulping his organs while in his body or keeping said organs from escaping out through his orifices. A kilometers-long test track had even been dug out underground using a modified Iron Tiger unit with a drill to ensure the prototype had enough run to gain speed and, most importantly, to slow down and stop without killing the pilot.
That said, the prototype had the uncomfortable, but still within safety margins the researches explained, side effect of leaking heat into the cockpit, hence why the complex's staff had affectionately named in the "Hot Seat".
True to form, the eponymous seat kept Hiro's ass warm and toasty even as the prototype began to slow down, thankfully, and coast to a final stop. At the same time, Captain Hiro could not help but envy his rival and colleague Captain Jing Mai, who was likely in bed or some infinitely more comfortable seat considering the late hour.
Despite his complaining, there was no helping it. Hiro had volunteered, he had made this choice himself. Like his father taught him to do so, he would take responsibility for his choices and actions and see it through to the end.
Hopefully with some long breaks spaced generously in between sessions, and after he successfully "convinced" another pilot to split shifts with him. For Guangchou, of course.
Note: Per aspera means "through hardships/difficulties". I think you guys can guess the title for the next omake…
It all started when the Hunter's Shroud armor was ultimately rejected during the later rounds of equipment trials and selection when Guangchou's first domestically created bipedal tank was being designed. The team that had initially proposed and designed the armor prototype had immediately gone back to their assigned area and began revisions and further testing, wholly unwilling to concede defeat.
While the first subsequent revisions boasted only marginal baseline improvements evident only when comparing statistics and trial results, it was the later ones that had shown the more impressive innovations.
To start with, the components had immediately minor improvements in their alloying that, taken altogether, increased heat resistance and even granted further insight into how the heat conduction could be utilized. Improvements that, from what little he knew, came from the more discrete members of the Black Fire Alloy Institute acting as representatives in the Iron Tiger project.
While Hiro did not fully comprehend the exact science, he could at least understand that it meant improved performance from the armor.
Better yet an ambitious idea had come from one of the engineers of the possibility of using excess heat and purging it in order to create a separate and stronger heat signature that could act as a decoy against infrared homing technology. Granted, it was all still in the conceptual phase, but it was still enough to get some attention from the higher ranks. And Hiro, of course.
It was to be expected that aerial threats would be would one of the greatest, if not THE greatest, threat to the Iron Tigers should they be deployed in actual combat situations. As such, Hiro had volunteered for that subproject specifically, prioritizing it over the other projects and trials being constantly conducted in the research and manufacturing complex.
Even then, that was still fine, simply stress testing the armor and providing insights into effects of both heat and the technology on the Iron Tiger chassis and systems. Also, his girlfriend was pissed he'd begun devoting more time to someone else's project, but that was a different story altogether, and not as dire in the grand scheme of things. Which only pissed her off even more after he opened his big stupid mouth and said as much but, again, that's a story for another time.
No, his real problems began when one of the military representatives, a colonel from the air force, had proposed using the heat resistant alloys, cooling systems, and experimental Iron Tiger fuel mix in order to initiate Guangchou's first domestic ballistic missile program. Then a government-appointed physics expert had chimed in, stating how it could also be used for a space program. And then the rest of the facility had caught on and started chiming in with their own thoughts and suggestions, quickly taking sides between the military-minded missile idea, and the more civilian space program. Such was the research compound's newly found and passionately practiced tradition.
Of course, that had been months ago. The sequence of events that followed had been true to the spirit of the complex's staff, progressing with unrestricted enthusiasm. To avoid taking any sides, Captain Hiro had no choice but to profess neutrality by volunteering as the first human test pilot for the still-in-its-infantile-prototyping-stage rocket sled.
Now, the best safety measures and mechanisms had been designed and installed for the prototype, such that Hiro had the strongest alloy roll cage surrounding and protecting him from collisions; as well as a special suit and harness system attached to his pilot seat to prevent inertial forces from pulping his organs while in his body or keeping said organs from escaping out through his orifices. A kilometers-long test track had even been dug out underground using a modified Iron Tiger unit with a drill to ensure the prototype had enough run to gain speed and, most importantly, to slow down and stop without killing the pilot.
That said, the prototype had the uncomfortable, but still within safety margins the researches explained, side effect of leaking heat into the cockpit, hence why the complex's staff had affectionately named in the "Hot Seat".
True to form, the eponymous seat kept Hiro's ass warm and toasty even as the prototype began to slow down, thankfully, and coast to a final stop. At the same time, Captain Hiro could not help but envy his rival and colleague Captain Jing Mai, who was likely in bed or some infinitely more comfortable seat considering the late hour.
Despite his complaining, there was no helping it. Hiro had volunteered, he had made this choice himself. Like his father taught him to do so, he would take responsibility for his choices and actions and see it through to the end.
Hopefully with some long breaks spaced generously in between sessions, and after he successfully "convinced" another pilot to split shifts with him. For Guangchou, of course.
Note: Per aspera means "through hardships/difficulties". I think you guys can guess the title for the next omake…
…Ad Astra
- Location
- SEAsia
- Pronouns
- Thou
…Ad Astra
Cho Dal-Rae tried her best to fight off the yawn threatening to conquer her face as she smiled and waved goodbye to the children. It would be highly inappropriate, especially with their parents present to take them home. More so after concluding such a successful overnight camping.
Thankfully, she managed to endure the exhaustion successful, and without flinching, no less!
While the rest of the teachers and relatively junior teaching assistants continued tidying and packing up the rest of the camping equipment and supplies, she turned her attention to the thoroughly used and much treasured refractor telescope yet to be disassembled and stored once more. The telescope had been the center of attention last night, and the main event for the entire camping trip itself, with the students taking turns gazing through the lenses and marveling at the celestial bodies and the clear night sky.
In the end, Dal-Rae had much to be grateful for. Not only for the wonderful nighttime weather, or the fact that the parents had agreed to let their children join the trip, or even for the principal for agreeing to the expenses and prep work involved in organizing it and making it happen.
She was also grateful for the amount of experts and intellectuals the country often hosted or was currently a home to, one of which had been a friend of her father's and owned the telescope that had been loaned for the trip. An astronomer, Dr. Chad Witt had often come over for dinner with her and her parents after he and her father, a budding astronomer, finished their usual work days.
Dr. Witt had been the reason Dal-Rae had come to develop so much interest in the endless, starry void; not to mention he'd been her father's mentor with regards to all things concerning space. Unsurprisingly, he had agreed to loan it on the condition that she regale him of the children's reactions when they used it.
She couldn't help but smile wider as she recalled the children's eager faces as they listened to her pointing out the constellations whilst waiting for their own turn.
That smile stayed plastered all over her face as her colleagues told her they were ready and together they carried the equipment back into the school. The open fields next to the campus had been the ideal camping ground, and literally free of cost to utilize, yet one more thing to be grateful for.
Soon enough, with the equipment stored, the event was officially over, and the teachers begin making their own way home, everyone more or less living within the town or one of the nearby villages. Dal-Rae herself did so as well, with the scope stored safely within the case slung across her back. All the while, she found her mind wandering back to the view of the sparkling void she saw the night before, of the possibilities and wonders they hinted at, just waiting to be discovered, filling her thoughts and expressions with awe and curiosity.
And more importantly, that same awe and curiosity mirrored on the faces of her students as they beheld the same visage of the night sky. Something she knew Dr. Witt had expected when he'd handed over the telescope, because he'd had the same grin on his face the day she'd fallen in love with the void beyond the skies.
The same grin she now had, thinking of her own students…
Note: Ad Astra means "to the stars". Per Aspera, Ad Astra. Through hardships, to the stars. Btw, imma edit The Secret Affair of Earth and Sky, add some more details that should help flesh out a creation story of Guangchou. Also, Chad Witt is a fictional person. This omake is also a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Thankfully, she managed to endure the exhaustion successful, and without flinching, no less!
While the rest of the teachers and relatively junior teaching assistants continued tidying and packing up the rest of the camping equipment and supplies, she turned her attention to the thoroughly used and much treasured refractor telescope yet to be disassembled and stored once more. The telescope had been the center of attention last night, and the main event for the entire camping trip itself, with the students taking turns gazing through the lenses and marveling at the celestial bodies and the clear night sky.
In the end, Dal-Rae had much to be grateful for. Not only for the wonderful nighttime weather, or the fact that the parents had agreed to let their children join the trip, or even for the principal for agreeing to the expenses and prep work involved in organizing it and making it happen.
She was also grateful for the amount of experts and intellectuals the country often hosted or was currently a home to, one of which had been a friend of her father's and owned the telescope that had been loaned for the trip. An astronomer, Dr. Chad Witt had often come over for dinner with her and her parents after he and her father, a budding astronomer, finished their usual work days.
Dr. Witt had been the reason Dal-Rae had come to develop so much interest in the endless, starry void; not to mention he'd been her father's mentor with regards to all things concerning space. Unsurprisingly, he had agreed to loan it on the condition that she regale him of the children's reactions when they used it.
She couldn't help but smile wider as she recalled the children's eager faces as they listened to her pointing out the constellations whilst waiting for their own turn.
That smile stayed plastered all over her face as her colleagues told her they were ready and together they carried the equipment back into the school. The open fields next to the campus had been the ideal camping ground, and literally free of cost to utilize, yet one more thing to be grateful for.
Soon enough, with the equipment stored, the event was officially over, and the teachers begin making their own way home, everyone more or less living within the town or one of the nearby villages. Dal-Rae herself did so as well, with the scope stored safely within the case slung across her back. All the while, she found her mind wandering back to the view of the sparkling void she saw the night before, of the possibilities and wonders they hinted at, just waiting to be discovered, filling her thoughts and expressions with awe and curiosity.
And more importantly, that same awe and curiosity mirrored on the faces of her students as they beheld the same visage of the night sky. Something she knew Dr. Witt had expected when he'd handed over the telescope, because he'd had the same grin on his face the day she'd fallen in love with the void beyond the skies.
The same grin she now had, thinking of her own students…
Note: Ad Astra means "to the stars". Per Aspera, Ad Astra. Through hardships, to the stars. Btw, imma edit The Secret Affair of Earth and Sky, add some more details that should help flesh out a creation story of Guangchou. Also, Chad Witt is a fictional person. This omake is also a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Last edited:
The Iwo Jima Crisis of 1974 - Part 1
HeroCooky
Unverified Monstergirl
It was nearly three in the morning, and Jungmin was doing all he could to chuck coffee in an attempt to stay awake for just one more hour to complete the paperwork required for the expansion of the navy. He knew that the crunch he was subjecting himself to wasn't healthy, but the stress of having to work in overdrive to complete the plan, coordinate all resources, wrangle the politicians in order, and prank the scientists bombarding him with proposals instead of going the official way, was a small price in comparison to the workers currently working double-shifts in construction and the naval yards. Taking another sip of his triple-strength coffee, he makes a note to his awake self to double their bonuses for the work they are doing, as well as the rations allocated to their families in thanks for their voluntary sacrifice.
"Fuck," he spoke, running a hand over his face, a wave of tiredness crashing into him with the might of an angry capitalist denied their exploitation. Once more, he looked at the papers before him, though his eyes could barely focus on the words for more than a few seconds, his hand barely able to write his signature to approve the spending for... something. "I need to sleep," he concluded and stood, the action giving him just enough wakefulness to appreciate the protest of his lower half.
This was not due to him sitting down too much, mind, but from another source. A small smile of satisfaction crept onto his face as Jungmin remembered why he was currently walking rather funny, though it was interwoven with warmth and deep love. Mai had already been rather miffed at all the exercise she had missed when she got pregnant with twins, so him knocking her up with triplets didn't exactly make her very appreciative of his face. Well, 'outside of bedroom situations, that is,' Jungmin thought, a dirty chuckle escaping him as he slowly cleaned his desk, already yearning to crawl into bed next to his wife. 'I should take a day off, maybe tomorrow,' his thoughts continued, a small plan forming within his mind to further assuage Mai's frustrations. The maid dress he had recently gotten had received more than a few hidden glances from her. Though he was sure that he wouldn't be able to walk straight for a week after she was finished with hi-
"SIR!" One of his bodyguards yelled, literally kicking the door to Jungmins office open. "WE'VE GOT A FUCKING SITUATION!" He continued to shout, not minding the pistol squarely aimed at his chest, a fully awake and alert Jungmin looking at him with ice-cold eyes, wondering what reason was dire enough for the guards to kick his door in. Barely even a fraction of a second later, said guard provided the reason. "TSUNAMI!"
"Ah," Jungmin spoke, clicking his tongue in annoyance. "Well, shit."
The people of Guangchou weren't strangers to natural disasters, having had to endure several tsunamis within a single lifetime and one bombing campaign that put all others to shame. Yet, despite what most people would assume, the news of one of the titanic disasters slowly but inevitably advancing onto their island did not spark panic. There were no rushed attempts to run for their lives; nobody rioted or smashed anything apart to loot valuables in the general confusion or something of the nature.
Instead, the people woke up to the sound of a siren, blearily blinking into the night as they listened to the signal. Three minutes later, people emerged from their houses, small pouches on their backs, with some carrying their parents, grandparents, children, or infirm relatives or neighbors. Then, slowly, each city on the coast and village in the lowlands began to gather the people up at predetermined spots, army trucks and general civilian vehicles commandeered from both factories and logistic duty carrying the people out of the city onto higher ground. But, of course, there couldn't be enough space for most people, even with the advanced warning given to Guangchou by their Vietnamese allies. So those young and healthy enough made their way to higher ground if they were lucky enough to live in an area that allowed them to do so. The rest filed into rows and entered the bunkers, long-since abandoned but still maintained, complexes that had once shielded almost all of the Ghuanchou people when the IJAAS bombed them day and night.
These structures had been re-designed after the war to house as many people as possible in the event of a tsunami, with several multi-ton gates hermetically sealable to keep the water out and air inside. Their entrances were constructed so that the water would both flow around them and not submerge the structures for longer than needed and had already served with distinction in 1946 and 1960.
Factories shut down, and volunteers ran through streets for the last minutes to see if anyone had been left behind. Power stations were decoupled as emergency services in the highland, and the entire military was placed on high alert to begin rescue and recovery efforts the second the waters receded. The nation braced itself for another reminder that, for all its achievements and scientific advancements, humanity was still nothing compared to the awesome powers of nature.
And then the waters came.
Over twelve meters high, the sea rolled into the island, one continuous mass of water carving its mark onto the island once more, contemptuously smashing apart buildings and construction with little effort. Its power was undeniable, its fury all-encompassing.
And like all tsunamis, it receded.
The water returned, the damage became visible, and those on the highland kept watch for any other waves.
None came, even after several hours, and select locations slowly opened up to see the damage and report the needed efforts to keep them supplied until the all-clear could be given in two days for all shelters.
The Shi-Ching Shelter did not report back the damage around them.
Instead, the commander of the Shelter demanded to be connected to the Great Leader ASAP, saying that the safety of the entire nation was at stake.
Jungmin was having a not-good day and a personal crisis as he stared out at the capital on his balcony, his mind racing through the information he had received. Not only was he tired beyond belief, but he also had had to oversee the recovery of the nation from a natural disaster. Thankfully, his father, and he, had never put anything meaningful into the lowlands beyond resource extraction operations like mines or farms. So, at the very least, the nation's industry could recover immediately once the people emerged and the damages were repaired in the ports.
However, his situation had gone from natural disaster-bad to World War Three Incident-Bad with a single phone call. Mainly because, due to the tsunami, there was an American Aircraft Carrier Beached A Hundred Meters Into The Island.
Fuck, he just wanted to sleep and have sex in a maid costume; why did the universe do that to him? And could the day get even worse?
Then a goose flying over him shat on his head.
Fuck. What do?
[] (Wat Do?)
"Fuck," he spoke, running a hand over his face, a wave of tiredness crashing into him with the might of an angry capitalist denied their exploitation. Once more, he looked at the papers before him, though his eyes could barely focus on the words for more than a few seconds, his hand barely able to write his signature to approve the spending for... something. "I need to sleep," he concluded and stood, the action giving him just enough wakefulness to appreciate the protest of his lower half.
This was not due to him sitting down too much, mind, but from another source. A small smile of satisfaction crept onto his face as Jungmin remembered why he was currently walking rather funny, though it was interwoven with warmth and deep love. Mai had already been rather miffed at all the exercise she had missed when she got pregnant with twins, so him knocking her up with triplets didn't exactly make her very appreciative of his face. Well, 'outside of bedroom situations, that is,' Jungmin thought, a dirty chuckle escaping him as he slowly cleaned his desk, already yearning to crawl into bed next to his wife. 'I should take a day off, maybe tomorrow,' his thoughts continued, a small plan forming within his mind to further assuage Mai's frustrations. The maid dress he had recently gotten had received more than a few hidden glances from her. Though he was sure that he wouldn't be able to walk straight for a week after she was finished with hi-
"SIR!" One of his bodyguards yelled, literally kicking the door to Jungmins office open. "WE'VE GOT A FUCKING SITUATION!" He continued to shout, not minding the pistol squarely aimed at his chest, a fully awake and alert Jungmin looking at him with ice-cold eyes, wondering what reason was dire enough for the guards to kick his door in. Barely even a fraction of a second later, said guard provided the reason. "TSUNAMI!"
"Ah," Jungmin spoke, clicking his tongue in annoyance. "Well, shit."
The people of Guangchou weren't strangers to natural disasters, having had to endure several tsunamis within a single lifetime and one bombing campaign that put all others to shame. Yet, despite what most people would assume, the news of one of the titanic disasters slowly but inevitably advancing onto their island did not spark panic. There were no rushed attempts to run for their lives; nobody rioted or smashed anything apart to loot valuables in the general confusion or something of the nature.
Instead, the people woke up to the sound of a siren, blearily blinking into the night as they listened to the signal. Three minutes later, people emerged from their houses, small pouches on their backs, with some carrying their parents, grandparents, children, or infirm relatives or neighbors. Then, slowly, each city on the coast and village in the lowlands began to gather the people up at predetermined spots, army trucks and general civilian vehicles commandeered from both factories and logistic duty carrying the people out of the city onto higher ground. But, of course, there couldn't be enough space for most people, even with the advanced warning given to Guangchou by their Vietnamese allies. So those young and healthy enough made their way to higher ground if they were lucky enough to live in an area that allowed them to do so. The rest filed into rows and entered the bunkers, long-since abandoned but still maintained, complexes that had once shielded almost all of the Ghuanchou people when the IJAAS bombed them day and night.
These structures had been re-designed after the war to house as many people as possible in the event of a tsunami, with several multi-ton gates hermetically sealable to keep the water out and air inside. Their entrances were constructed so that the water would both flow around them and not submerge the structures for longer than needed and had already served with distinction in 1946 and 1960.
Factories shut down, and volunteers ran through streets for the last minutes to see if anyone had been left behind. Power stations were decoupled as emergency services in the highland, and the entire military was placed on high alert to begin rescue and recovery efforts the second the waters receded. The nation braced itself for another reminder that, for all its achievements and scientific advancements, humanity was still nothing compared to the awesome powers of nature.
And then the waters came.
Over twelve meters high, the sea rolled into the island, one continuous mass of water carving its mark onto the island once more, contemptuously smashing apart buildings and construction with little effort. Its power was undeniable, its fury all-encompassing.
And like all tsunamis, it receded.
The water returned, the damage became visible, and those on the highland kept watch for any other waves.
None came, even after several hours, and select locations slowly opened up to see the damage and report the needed efforts to keep them supplied until the all-clear could be given in two days for all shelters.
The Shi-Ching Shelter did not report back the damage around them.
Instead, the commander of the Shelter demanded to be connected to the Great Leader ASAP, saying that the safety of the entire nation was at stake.
Jungmin was having a not-good day and a personal crisis as he stared out at the capital on his balcony, his mind racing through the information he had received. Not only was he tired beyond belief, but he also had had to oversee the recovery of the nation from a natural disaster. Thankfully, his father, and he, had never put anything meaningful into the lowlands beyond resource extraction operations like mines or farms. So, at the very least, the nation's industry could recover immediately once the people emerged and the damages were repaired in the ports.
However, his situation had gone from natural disaster-bad to World War Three Incident-Bad with a single phone call. Mainly because, due to the tsunami, there was an American Aircraft Carrier Beached A Hundred Meters Into The Island.
Fuck, he just wanted to sleep and have sex in a maid costume; why did the universe do that to him? And could the day get even worse?
Then a goose flying over him shat on his head.
Fuck. What do?
[] (Wat Do?)
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Birds Watching…
- Location
- California,USA
Birds Watching…
The Crewman of the SR-71 Blackbird out of one of America's many Airbase looked at their charts one last time as they planned a small detour on the return trip.
Now it wasn't exactly a difficult thing to actually do, the flight over Vietnam and Cambodia was planned well in advance of any of their commanders orders and it was well known that spying on other nations from 30,000 feet was a viable and useful use of time and resources.
After all, no one was gonna catch them even if they tried.
"Hey Bruce? We got enough Fuel for a little sightseeing in Guangchou, I always wanted to see their little light shows." Capt Alan Cirino asked his RSO, Capt Bruce Liebman.
"I don't know Alan…we're gonna have to run the paperwork with the guys on the Ground for this on plus aren't we pushing our luck after flying over the Warsaw Pact a few weeks ago?" He said.
"I know but I think a Few photos to see what's up is in order." You said.
"Al I get it? Its a nice remote paradise that happens to be run by Commies, just like the Norks in North Korea or the Gooks in China?" Bruce said.
"I'm all for beaches and oceanfront property…Command, I know it's a bit sudden, but requesting permission to fly over Guangchou for recon." You asked.
"Running request by Base Comm…we have something of a situation you might be qualified to handle 71' we'll run it by your bosses…welcome to our neck of the Woods." The Operator said
"Well, guess we get that beach photo after all…send traffic Yokota?" Bruce said.
"We have reports of a Missing US Aircraft Carrier that went missing in the Guangchou area, and we want to confirm their status." He said.
"Roger that, we'll find them? Anything else to Order?" You said.
"U2 spy planes have been seeing some odd activity in the Guangchou jungles and Mountains, give them a whirl around if you get the chance." He asked.
"Wait…How do you lose an aircraft carrier?" You said.
"Its the Iwo Jima, and while the circumstances are troubling in what she's doing far from her post, we lack the information to make a concrete guess." The Operator said.
So this was a blind op…Neat. "How low should we go?"
"Scare the shit out of them…and remind them they can't touch you." The Op said.
"Bruce…BRUCE…We're gonna be going low in the next few hours." You said.
"HELL YEAH! Let's scare the shit out of them."
----------------------------------------------------
Captain Bai Han, was on guard duty over one of Guangchou's small military command bases over the west side of the island, it was primarily a shelter that watched the sea's for…unwanted visitors and disasters.
All he could hear now was the buzz of the night and a loud booming sound.
He couldn't place it? Was it a test for the Tiger Lady? Or whatever they were calling it these days.
The Booming sound was getting louder, and the coming dawn was not yet bright enough to-.
Alright they were CLEARLY doing an aerial test without sending you the Memo.
FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT WAS GOOD !! Can't they SHUT THE HELL!-
You saw it..flying low beneath the cloud cover was a black speeding monster, moving faster than a missile.
A Missile of Precision and Human control.
"Rồng đen" You said remembering the words spoken by your fellow soldiers in Vietnam. "The Black Dragon"…what the Americans called a Blackbird.
She was moving fast as the Ensuring BOOM of the speed of its passing came and shook the base, the glass cracked as the shaking of your desk failed to cease.
You saw it…flying low…you could SEE the cockpit…see the little helmets of the pilots passed the tinted glass.
You had to smile at their courage…flying this low for their photographs.
The Americans are truly insane.
------------------------------------------------
"HOLY SHIT BRUCE I ALMOST CLIPPED THAT BUILDING!!" Alan said. " Did you get the Photos!"
"Yeah, can we go home now?"He said.
"No, we haven't found Iwo Jima yet?!" You said. "Raising altitude to cruising and a little below the cloud cover. Let's not push our luck."
"Oh alright, we're gonna make another pass over the island," Bruce said.
"SR-71 Making another pass." You said.
-----------------------------------
Captain Hiro looked to the Sky within the Iron Tiger and wondered quietly if he could actually hit something with what he had.
The Hot Seat was getting uncomfortable.
He looked and waited as something cried out from the Radio on an open channel.
"Smile for the Camera."
-------------------------------------------
"Bruce, I see it in the What the…opening all frequencies." You were going crazy...that couldn't be right?
"SMILE FOR THE CAMERA!" Bruce said as the Camera took photos by the dozen.
"I think we scared the shit out of them this time. Did you see that walking statue?" You said.
"I don't think it's a statue? I think it's a new kind of turret?" He said.
"It looks kinda ridiculous." You said.
"USS Iwo Jima.This is SR-71 Blackbird…Send Traffic." Bruce said.
"No response?" He said. "What the Fuc-"
It was there alright...beached on the Island...Shit
You didn't have time to process this as the Photos were taken.
"Are they any good?" You asked.
"I don't know...they came up blurry? Has that happened before?" Bruce said.
"Equipment failure at a time like this...what else can go wrong?" You said.
"We got boogies deploying, Six on our Six." He said.
"They can't catch us…We're 30,000 and Climbing…" You said before pulling up into the cloud cover. And then making a turn.
--------------------------------------------
"We lost them, they just banked up?!"
"Keep on Patrol they can't have gotten-"
-----------------------------
"Hey! LOOK UP!" You shouted over the Open Channel.
Then you Flew past Mach 3 flying over the Six Boogies in a somewhat taunting manner.
"YEEHAW!!" You felt the power of the Machine push you away from the airspace at speed.
Was it Childish to use one of the Most expensive pieces of Machinery the US had ever designed to mock them?
Yes yes, it was?
DId it get you what you came for? Absolutely.
---------------------------------------------
"They Reached our airspace…took photos of our prototype equipment and made a mockery of our airforce." The Officer said to the Pilots.
"Yes…we couldn't have caught them even if we tried."
The Captain wasn't even mad…he was just impressed that they reacted so quickly.
"There will be an investigation into this…but for now, we are impressed with how quickly you reacted."
---------------------------------------------------------
"Bruce." You said.
"Yeah Alan?" He said.
"They will never let us do this again?" You said.
"Can't argue with the results….can we?" He said.
"That we cannot, that we cannot." You said.
------------------------------------------------------------
Notes: It is realistic that The US Forces in the Pacific would Ask for an SR-71 to find their misplaced carrier and I took it to an extreme.
Now would they have gone as low as they did? Likely not, but it would have depended on the weather conditions that day.
Capt Alan Cirino and RSO, Capt Bruce Liebman are both a real SR-71 Crew that Flew in 1974…and likely would have been used in this situation.
Edit: And because of the Weather? Yeah…they would have flown low.
Also
@HeroCooky I'll just leave this here
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Grandma’s Recipes
- Location
- SEAsia
- Pronouns
- Thou
Grandma's Recipes
Hey. PSSST. HEEEEEY!
You! Yeah, YOU. Come closer.
CLOOOOSSSEEEEERR.
Check it out. I got what you've been looking for.
What do you mean 'what do I mean'? You've been looking for it your entire life.
You just never knew it until now. Here, have a baggie. Free sample.
Go on. Try it out. Go, go! Special recipe, homemade, comes from my grandma. She sure as hell knew here shit. Come on, open it and try some! What's the worst that could happen, yeah?
Well? What do you think?
'Pretty good'? What do you mean, pretty good!? It's FUCKING AWESOME!
Wanna know how I got it? Old family friend supplies us with the best stuff. He takes a hefty batch of the raw goods and dries 'em, all natural-like, under the sun. Get 'em nice and toasty. Fun and crispy! Then he hands 'em off to us and we give him a slice of the pie, so to speak. His part of the proceeds.
Then me and the fam get to work processing the good stuff. We cut 'em up into the ideal bite-sized pieces, and coat 'em with our special, oil and herb blend, maybe with a couple more secret seasonings. Then comes the most important part. We bake each side in an oven till it's all crunchy and crispy. Gotta make sure they don't burn, a'course!
And that's how you make the good stuff!
…
Huh? What do we call 'em?
Mmm…
Ah! We'll call 'em the The Good Stuff Homemade Seaweed Snacks! Yeah that'll do. Aight, imma go on and hand out some more free samples. Ah, but first, wanna buy some?
Ha! Of course you do! Three? Nice! Here, I'll hand you five. Consider it a special for being our first customer! Now, if you'll excuse me, Imma go and hand out some more samples. You just come on back 'round these parts if you want some more. Me and my fam should be around to sell some more in case your supply runs out.
See ya!
Note: I have this mental picture of an Iron Tiger mecha handing out a huge The Good Stuff™ baggie to a beached American sailor.
You! Yeah, YOU. Come closer.
CLOOOOSSSEEEEERR.
Check it out. I got what you've been looking for.
What do you mean 'what do I mean'? You've been looking for it your entire life.
You just never knew it until now. Here, have a baggie. Free sample.
Go on. Try it out. Go, go! Special recipe, homemade, comes from my grandma. She sure as hell knew here shit. Come on, open it and try some! What's the worst that could happen, yeah?
Well? What do you think?
'Pretty good'? What do you mean, pretty good!? It's FUCKING AWESOME!
Wanna know how I got it? Old family friend supplies us with the best stuff. He takes a hefty batch of the raw goods and dries 'em, all natural-like, under the sun. Get 'em nice and toasty. Fun and crispy! Then he hands 'em off to us and we give him a slice of the pie, so to speak. His part of the proceeds.
Then me and the fam get to work processing the good stuff. We cut 'em up into the ideal bite-sized pieces, and coat 'em with our special, oil and herb blend, maybe with a couple more secret seasonings. Then comes the most important part. We bake each side in an oven till it's all crunchy and crispy. Gotta make sure they don't burn, a'course!
And that's how you make the good stuff!
…
Huh? What do we call 'em?
Mmm…
Ah! We'll call 'em the The Good Stuff Homemade Seaweed Snacks! Yeah that'll do. Aight, imma go on and hand out some more free samples. Ah, but first, wanna buy some?
Ha! Of course you do! Three? Nice! Here, I'll hand you five. Consider it a special for being our first customer! Now, if you'll excuse me, Imma go and hand out some more samples. You just come on back 'round these parts if you want some more. Me and my fam should be around to sell some more in case your supply runs out.
See ya!
Note: I have this mental picture of an Iron Tiger mecha handing out a huge The Good Stuff™ baggie to a beached American sailor.
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Puking his guts up was not a fun time
Puking his guts up was not a fun time, and certainly not a good sign, since he had been slammed full force into a bulkhead when they were picked up and thrown who knows where by what felt like an angry God. "Sorry about not praying more often, I'll go to chapel, I swear." Petty officer third class, Johnathan 'Nate' Rico murmured, clutching his crucifix as he would a life preserver.
The banging on the Hatch left him confused for a moment, and made his headache feel a thousand times worse. Unless he'd been knocked unconscious for even longer than he thought and just left lying in a heap, there shouldn't be anyone outside. Hell, there couldn't be anyone outside. Not after being hit by that insane wave.
Maybe it was the concussion, or maybe it was the fact his head felt like it was exploding and he didn't want to hear the banging anymore, but he twisted the handle of the hatch, pulling it open with a heave. A strange Asian fellow holding a hoe was standing at the door, looking at him with a near incandescent fury and speaking in surprisingly good English.
"Stupid American sailor, can't keep stupid American Ship in the ocean, now my field under ten thousand tons of stupid American metal!" The hoe was thrust into his hands. "You come now, Stupid American Sailor, you hoe new field. Maybe you become good Guangchou Farmer. Get food, get doctor, marry pretty Guangchou."
"I...what?"
"Hurry up!" The Asian fellow said, clapping his hands and making Nate's headache worse. He stumbled out the door, thoroughly confused, as instead of open seas spreading into the distance, there was instead verdant waterlogged jungle and row after row of fields and rice paddies.
"What the fuck?"
The banging on the Hatch left him confused for a moment, and made his headache feel a thousand times worse. Unless he'd been knocked unconscious for even longer than he thought and just left lying in a heap, there shouldn't be anyone outside. Hell, there couldn't be anyone outside. Not after being hit by that insane wave.
Maybe it was the concussion, or maybe it was the fact his head felt like it was exploding and he didn't want to hear the banging anymore, but he twisted the handle of the hatch, pulling it open with a heave. A strange Asian fellow holding a hoe was standing at the door, looking at him with a near incandescent fury and speaking in surprisingly good English.
"Stupid American sailor, can't keep stupid American Ship in the ocean, now my field under ten thousand tons of stupid American metal!" The hoe was thrust into his hands. "You come now, Stupid American Sailor, you hoe new field. Maybe you become good Guangchou Farmer. Get food, get doctor, marry pretty Guangchou."
"I...what?"
"Hurry up!" The Asian fellow said, clapping his hands and making Nate's headache worse. He stumbled out the door, thoroughly confused, as instead of open seas spreading into the distance, there was instead verdant waterlogged jungle and row after row of fields and rice paddies.
"What the fuck?"
USS Iwo Jima Incident Transcript
USS Iwo Jima Incident Transcript
:"It seems we did, and you are not going to like WHERE it somehow ended up. Beached on the unimportant Communist island of Guangchou. You know, the one that recently caught a massive amount of rebels and became a media sensation?"
:"HOW THE HELL DID THEY GET BEACHED THERE!!!"
:"No clue, unfortunately the spy plane camera malfunctioned, meaning we only have the pilot reports and whatever the Guangchou release, until we can send another over."
:"The Blackbird had a MALFUNCTIONING CAMERA!?!? The most advanced spy plane in our Arsenal, had a malfunctioning camera while in the air!?"
:"Well, technical problems are a given, no matter what tech you work with, still doesn't change the situation. Especially since it's gonna take some time at the analysts to see what we could get from them. Might the captain of the carrier purposefully run the ship aground? there was a lot of evidence being thrown around in those trials. Maybe they might have a competent spy network?"
:"While the ship was not where it should of, purposefully running it aground is not likely, especially since the Guangchou don't have the facilities to maintain let alone repair such a ship."
:"Though we still have a whole aircraft carrier worth of sailors trapped in that island, we may need to send a force to exfiltrate them. Though hopefully we might not have to"
:"Really hope so. There is a reason why China does not have the guts to try and take over that island. They did make sure the Japanese never managed to secure any foothold on their soil. And I don't think our forces would be quite enough"
:"Why little faith? We have a lot more to work with than the imperials did, on top of better planes, ships, and everything else."
:"And they know their island, which is quite defensible, a stubborn population, and of course there are whatever defenses they still maintain from WW2 we may need to contend with. Even before counting where their military budget is going. I mean, they haven't been buying anything new or making their own, even if just to show off!"
:"That IS weird. Either they have an ace that they feel secures their survival, or they are working on something BIG"
:"Nuclear program? No, can't be, they don't have any source of uranium, nor are they looking for any. We really want to investigate, cause we don't want any rude surprises. Like this incident is turning out to be"
A/N: Well, this is an expanded thing, and I think that besides maybe names, seems about done. And honestly, the sheer lack of military designs on our end is likely worrying. Because honestly, it sends a signal that we don't feel any need to puff ourselves up and look strong, hinting at something going on, a black project either done or being worked on.
:"Did we locate the Iwo Jima yet"
:"It seems we did, and you are not going to like WHERE it somehow ended up. Beached on the unimportant Communist island of Guangchou. You know, the one that recently caught a massive amount of rebels and became a media sensation?"
:"HOW THE HELL DID THEY GET BEACHED THERE!!!"
:"No clue, unfortunately the spy plane camera malfunctioned, meaning we only have the pilot reports and whatever the Guangchou release, until we can send another over."
:"The Blackbird had a MALFUNCTIONING CAMERA!?!? The most advanced spy plane in our Arsenal, had a malfunctioning camera while in the air!?"
:"Well, technical problems are a given, no matter what tech you work with, still doesn't change the situation. Especially since it's gonna take some time at the analysts to see what we could get from them. Might the captain of the carrier purposefully run the ship aground? there was a lot of evidence being thrown around in those trials. Maybe they might have a competent spy network?"
:"While the ship was not where it should of, purposefully running it aground is not likely, especially since the Guangchou don't have the facilities to maintain let alone repair such a ship."
:"Though we still have a whole aircraft carrier worth of sailors trapped in that island, we may need to send a force to exfiltrate them. Though hopefully we might not have to"
:"Really hope so. There is a reason why China does not have the guts to try and take over that island. They did make sure the Japanese never managed to secure any foothold on their soil. And I don't think our forces would be quite enough"
:"Why little faith? We have a lot more to work with than the imperials did, on top of better planes, ships, and everything else."
:"And they know their island, which is quite defensible, a stubborn population, and of course there are whatever defenses they still maintain from WW2 we may need to contend with. Even before counting where their military budget is going. I mean, they haven't been buying anything new or making their own, even if just to show off!"
:"That IS weird. Either they have an ace that they feel secures their survival, or they are working on something BIG"
:"Nuclear program? No, can't be, they don't have any source of uranium, nor are they looking for any. We really want to investigate, cause we don't want any rude surprises. Like this incident is turning out to be"
A/N: Well, this is an expanded thing, and I think that besides maybe names, seems about done. And honestly, the sheer lack of military designs on our end is likely worrying. Because honestly, it sends a signal that we don't feel any need to puff ourselves up and look strong, hinting at something going on, a black project either done or being worked on.
Birds Squaking:
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
Birds Squaking:
Capt Alan Cirino, and his RSO, Capt Bruce Liebman were both sitting down, relaxing in the common room that was serving as their impromptu home for the last several days, They had been confined to quarters, and forced to remain in the said impromptu home until further notice, as the Base Commander was getting a dressing down from Westmorland himself.
Sure the US Army appreciated the fact that the intel that was given to them by him and his RSO was decent enough to not only save a hundred lives from a Viet Cong Ambush, but also was vital in locating the missing aircraft carrier that was pulled away from its duty station, by what can only be described, by the Commander and Admiral Mccain, as, and he quoted 'An act of god!'
Sure that was accurate, seeing as somehow, the Navy decided to run a storm they knew damn well was going to morph into a Typhoon.
Guangchou on the other hand had given them ample warning and the intel that they gained from local, translated weather reports were not only accurate but downright prophetic.
The Irony was not lost on anyone when they returned to base.
"Hey Bruce, what the hell is the CO taking so long to just us go back to Barracks, I have been wearing the same uniform for three days, and they won't let us even do laundry." He said as he sniffed himself. He then stroked his chin. "Not even a shave too, what the hell is so important that we are kept here until God himself comes down from heaven to relive us."
"Alan…at this point, be glad we have TV and Books, we'd have gone crazy otherwise?" He said.
At that moment, the CO came in. "Ten hut!" Alan shouted, and both he and his comrade stood at attention. Followed by over half a dozen men in suits, and civilian clothes.
The CO looked at them in weary pity. "At ease…" He looked drained as he wiped his sweat from his brow. "Boy, sorry, but you're still going to be confined here until they are finished, and unfortunately, I can't help you anymore."
Alan frowned. "Sir, who are these-"
"Five times above my paygrade, and despite my protesting, they seem to think that the only way they are-"
"That will be all general." The man in charge stated as he cut him off. "Gentlemen, take a seat, and forget everything about conduct right now that isn't pertaining to any information that I am about to talk to you about."
"General?" Bruce questioned.
"Unfortunately boys, for the time being, your the CIA's problem." He stopped. "I want my pilots back in one piece."
"We're all on the same side here General." The man in charge.
"So it seems your making it more difficult to get our boys out…You CIA types are only trouble." The CO said.
"General, if you are done complaining about what is needed, then you may leave." The man stated.
"HIGH COM will hear of this…you didn't even give these men a shower." He said.
"When the fate of the Free world is at risk, I'm sure these men can tough it up without a shower." The man in charge stated. "Can we have the room?"
"The Conference Room is more comfortable then-" The General started.
"No, here will be fine, it's safe." The man stated. "Now leave us, General. You don't have codeword clearance."
"Neither do a dozen airmen waiting outside to whoop your ass if these men aren't given their Airforce Debrief…you may have the ear of the Joint Cheifs but these are my men and this is my base." He said.
"Noted, get out." The man stated before he looked at the two officers. "Gentlemen, start from the top, and don't worry, we brought copies of those shitty photos you took."
"Is this about the Iwo Jima?" Bruce asked.
"Other men in other departments are working on the Iwo Jima, I want to talk to you about these curious metal rocks."
---------------------------------------------------------
The debrief was more than enough to bore the two men to tears. "And that's what we got."
"What do you think they are?"
Alan and Bruce traded a glance. "We told you, we had a debate whether they were AA turrets or some kind of vanity project for their Glorious Leader."
There was a whisper. "From the Pentagon, they've been given the nod."
"Are you sure? That's well above what these men should know. Or even consider knowing?"
"Considering the SR-71, and information they brought back? They consider them assets now."
Alan looked at Bruce. "I don't like where this is going."
Bruce nodded. "Yeah, they make more money than us."
The two men then noticed the briefcase and a man with a handcuff on it. "It's here."
A moment later, it opened. "Gentlemen, what you are about to hear is a secret only known to ten men still alive." He then showed a photograph.
"In 1944, Nazi Scientists from Germany theorized that there was a possible new wave of armored vehicles that could turn the tide of the World War. We assumed that the product was merely in the design phase when the War ended, and after the war, we scooped up any and all assets we could be related to the Project." He said. "Two scientists were unaccounted for, presumed dead Magnus Hirschfeld and Arthur Kronfeld"
"Wait…weren't they mentioned in…Sexual-" Alan started.
"Unrelated to the Project or the situation at large get your head out of your ass." He said. "The less said about THAT portion of Operation Paperclip the better."
The two men looked at each other again, this time, feeling very uncomfortable. "Well, what are we getting into?" Alan asked.
"What you saw, we presume, was the Laufpanzer prototype that we believed was unfinished during the war. We all thought it was ramblings and drawing from board engineers and scientists. As of three days ago, we have learned that it is not only real but replicable. And above all, not in American hands."
Bruce then raised his hand. "Did the scientists get talked to?"
"Yes. But, due to the poor quality of the pictures and time passage… they were no help. Though the design documents collaborated something similar, nothing concrete at this moment." the man replied. "Right now, as of five minutes ago, you have been transferred to a New Taskforce, designated 'Surveyor, and you will be transferred to a specialist command, outside of normal Airforce command. You work for us."
"And if we refuse?" Alan asked.
"You will go back to your unit, signing a waiver of silence, and you will never see me again."
"All for seeing something the CIA didn't want us to see?" Alan stated. "I thought you guys did violent shit to people you didn't like?"
"A common misconception, but we don't target our own. We bully them." The man laughed. "We work in the dark to keep the world clean. And besides, SR-71 pilots are hard to come by."
"I'm in." Bruce said.
Alan took a moment to think. "Fuck it, I'm in too."
"Good." the man stated. "And all I will say is this: You call me Goose."
"Why do they call you Goose?" Alan asked.
"Because I raise hell wherever I go." He replied.
AN: @HeroCooky you mad lad, here is an omake that took less than an hour to write.
I hope you are happy with this, because I most certainly am not.
I can't believe that I would skip a quest update and do this!
I never skip updates!
And THank you @Cyberphilosipher
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