"Saving Planet Earth": A (benevolent?) alien arrival story

[MarieDavisRPs]

Somewhere in frickin' America, who knows where?

(OOC: This continues Kimmie Lang's story from here, which was her only post thus far.)


Kimmie Lang felt a hand jostle her foot, waking her from what felt like a long, satisfying sleep. The consistent and mesmerizing vibration and noise of the C-130 Hercules had vanished, and all she heard now was the shuffling of boots on steel aft of her as the crew and various other passengers made their way out of the plane and onto the tarmac.

"We're there?" she asked the Air Force enlisted man as he, too, headed aft. He didn't hear her apparently and continued onward, leading Kimmie to call out, "Where the hell are we?"

More than 20 hours ago, the cargo plane had left the South Pacific island; Kimmie had been working there for the past 14 months to earn her PhD and -- despite not being done -- had heard and accepted the call from NASA to join them as their Astrobiologist. It was her dream come true, particularly now that she was hearing stories about aliens coming to Earth!

The crew of the C-130 hadn't had much information to provide Kimmie, and there was a communications blackout as well. No one could tell her anything other than the rumor that the alien queen was meeting with the UN's Security Council in Bermuda for what was appropriately being called the Bermuda Summit.

At some point just after the Hercules was the recipient of a mid-air refueling, Kimmie had fallen asleep on a makeshift bed that one of the crew had fashioned for her, and she'd been out for the rest of the flight. Now, carrying her hastily packed bag, she descended the aircraft's ramp, expecting to find herself in either Houston, Texas, where NASA was based, or Cambridge, Massachusetts, where MIT -- her sponsoring university -- was located.

But when she got out onto the tarmac and looked for recognizable features, she found that she wasn't in either of those places. That was, of course, concerning.

But then she saw something -- or someone! -- that made her heart leap anxiously and her face go even paler than it normally was. Walking across the tarmac from yet another Hercules toward the terminal buildings was, of all the people in the world, Joseph Samson ... Kimmie's Ex!

She quickly turned her back to him, thinking -- hoping! -- that he hadn't seen her. It had been almost two years since they'd seen each other last. Joe -- who actually went by his nickname Brock -- had been deployed to some unnamable place that Kimmie had been certain was in a God forsaken desert or jungle somewhere, and although she'd known he could be gone for anywhere between 6 and 12 months, she'd told him that she would wait for him.

Then, four months later, Kimmie had been accepted into her PhD program, and without knowing when Joe might be back or -- honestly -- even caring, she'd packed up her shit and taken off for the South Pacific. She'd loved Joe, and she'd wanted to be with him, but she also wanted to be on one of the spacecrafts heading for the Moon or Mars, and her only chance of that was getting her PhD in Astrobiology.

As she stood there facing away from Joe, another soldier passed by. Again, she asked with desperation, "Where the fuck are we? Where is this?"

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

The White House
Situation Room

Allison Dean watched the Bermuda Summit unfolding as she was also receiving constant updates on the assassination attempt of Anya. There were other important things about which to think, too. Allison looked to her Chief of Staff, Parker Brown, asking, "When does he arrive in Bermuda?"

The he about whom she was speaking was the new US Ambassador to the UN. He was a very popular, very charismatic former Democratic Congressman who'd lost his seat during the mid-term elections got supporting POTUS after it was revealed that she'd been having sexual relations with men and women during her husband's illness period.

Parker checked his watch, answering, "His plane should be landing now."

Anya began talking about her spacecraft being in orbit of Earth, and suddenly there was an image of it. At a nearby panel, an alarm sounded, indicating that American sensing systems were picking up the craft.

"My God, how big is it?" Allison asked. "There's no perspective ... nothing to compare it to in that image. Fuck! I want answers."

Anya claimed that she'd lived on the ship most of her life; that the ship was unarmed; and that the smaller ship that was coming down to Earth was an unarmed transport vessel, also unarmed.

The Ambassador from France, Chloe Marie Dubois, surprised some of the others by questioning whether or not it was safe for Anya's ship to come down to the planet. She gave the Chinese Ambassador an accusatory glance, seeming to imply that perhaps the Chinese might try to destroy the smaller transport of even the mothership.

Then, Anya claimed, "Because your missiles no longer work. From the moment that the Yallan Mothership appeared in orbit of your planet, your offensive aerial weapons ... from the missiles under the wings of your fighter aircraft and drones ... to the surface-to-air missiles of all sizes ... to your Inter-Continental Ballistic Missiles ... they will not fly now."

Allison had been standing at the head of the table, but now she flopped down into her chair, seemingly stunned. Anya continued, "I am sure that around the world, members of your respective governments and militaries are verifying what I just told you."

Allison called out loudly, "General...!"

The Chairman called, "On it, Madam President.

Anya continued speaking about how Human Beings no longer had any sort of defensive or offensive missile capabilities. A dozen people in the Situation Room -- most but not all in uniform -- were working feverishly to discover if this were true.

Then Anya began speaking about transporting humans as if they were right out of Star Trek or Stargate. She was flabbergasted; no one had ever thought that such a thing would ever be possible. Then -- again in response to Dick Connors question -- Anya began speaking of a distant Earth-like planet, 48 Areetus, and how it would require 8-12 million people to build it.

"That's insane," Allison said. "Simply insane."

 

[desperado1089]

Bermuda

UN Security Council

Connors slammed his fist on the table and his face turned an ugly shade of purple. "How the hell do you expect us to be able to defend ourselves if your claims turn out to be a bunch of bullshit if our nukes don't work! You say all this shit about being here to help us, and defend us from this so-called empire, but how do we know? How do we know your ships are unarmed? How can we verify? How can we respond if you're lying to us? Forget for a second about these stargates or whatever the hell you wanna call it. I wanna know how you can stand there all sanctimonious without understanding our position? How do you think it looks when, for all intents and purposes, you've basically forced us to take your word for it? And on behalf of the American people, if you disable any more of our military hardware without warning us first, I will personally take you into custody if that's what it takes. Do I make myself clear?"

Fleming, for his part, sympathized with Connors' position and did not, this time, admonish his colleague for his outburst. The disabling of any weapons systems that left the ground did indeed come off as a way to force humanity to accept whatever fate the Yalla decided they deserved. However, he did have something to say. "Your Highness, despite the...adventurous undertaking you're proposing, my American counterpart was not speaking of constructing your signal-blocking devices on a distant planet, but rather, in our own solar system. Surely the technology can be adapted to operate at a relatively shorter range? And, I hope I'm not alone in this, but your people seem to be taking the empire's existence and their brutality as a matter of course. If there's one thing you should know about humanity, it's that we are not prone to sitting idly by when a bully comes along and demands our lunch money. We stand up to those who terrorize and destroy others. Why should our partnership, if it's genuine, not be a military alliance, or the start of one? This Empire sounds like something that should be stopped. Perhaps with your technological prowess and our tenacity, we can stop them together."

Alec, Carrie, Bob and Derek

All three men listened to the exchange in consternation when Connors spoke (even though they wholeheartedly agreed with his sentiments, if not the way they were delivered); this forced disarmament of the entirety of Human aerial defense absolutely made it difficult not to distrust Anya and the Yalla, and would not blame people for sharing a "well, now we just gotta bend over and take whatever it is you're gonna give us" mentality.

However, when Fleming spoke, they listened with rapt attention, and when he finished, it wasn't just Alec, Bob and Derek who were shouting things like, "Yeah, let's kick their asses back to their backwater planet!" It was heartening to hear the Chinese, French and Russian security men and women shouting similar sentiments, translated as they were by Anya's technology.

Arno and Florence

"The man is a boorish donkey, but I do not disagree. How do we do something if they are not telling the truth?" The thing is, he wanted to believe them, and so did Fleming, Brosnan, Ross and Morgan. But the act of completely neutering their air defenses was a major red flag, one that could not be easily ignored.

 

[desperado1089]

Naval Air Station (NAS) Norfolk (Headquarters of Naval Special Warfare Development Group AKA DEVGRU AKA Seal Team Six)
Norfolk, VA, USA
7 January 2031, 1530 UTC/1030 LOCAL

Brock and Rocket were, in fact, unaware of Kimmie's presence, at least at first. When a pair of jet fighters took off suddenly, followed by a drone, the veteran Navy SEAL thought nothing of it; unbeknownst to pretty much everyone, the fighters were going to try to shoot it down. Meanwhile, at one of the many missile silos that still dotted the American landscape, the warhead was being removed from an ICBM, and this was happening with exactly one weapon per nuclear power, as hastily agreed via an even more hastily-convened conference call between the leaders of said nuclear powers; the site where the inert ICBMs would land was agreed upon to be an empty expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. Assuming they launched successfully.

Regardless, the wind shifted and Rocket picked up a scent that was very, very familiar to him and like a hairy missile he shot towards Kimmie before Brock could tighten his grip on the leash. Happy barks heralded the imminent danger of being bowled over and licked to death, and Brock happily shouted, "Kimmie!", as he hurried after his canine companion.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

The White House
Situation Room

Allison Dean cringed when her Ambassador, Dick Connors, began ranting again. And yet, at the same time, she agreed with him when he said, "...for all intents and purposes, you've basically forced us to take your word for it."

Her Chief of Staff, Parker Brown -- who had his cell phone to his ear -- reported, "Interim Ambassador Julius Freeman is at the Theater, Madam President. Shall I send him in?"

"No!" Allison found herself saying before she'd even thought about the situation. She continued to watch Connors rail against Anya, then said more calmly, "Just ... have him standby. Let's see where this goes."

"And on behalf of the American people," Connors continued, "if you disable any more of our military hardware without warning us first, I will personally take you into custody if that's what it takes. Do I make myself clear?"

Allison's head fell slowly forward to the table in despair, something she hadn't done since her college days when she'd discovered that her professor had given her a measly B+ on one of her papers. With her lips practically pressing against the table, she ordered, "Get him out of there." Her head came up, "But do it ... I dunno, inconspicuously somehow. Don't embarrass him. It will only embarrass us."

Brown passed on the order to the Security Supervisor who -- with several others -- was escorting Freeman into the Theater and toward the door to the Summit's location.


The Summit Theater
A moment earlier

"Your Highness," the UK's representative chimed in, "despite the...adventurous undertaking you're proposing, my American counterpart was not speaking of constructing your signal-blocking devices on a distant planet, but rather, in our own solar system. Surely the technology can be adapted to operate at a relatively shorter range?"

Anya politely lifted an extended index finger, asking, "Ambassador Fleming if you will give me just a moment..." Those around the table could probably discern that the alien Ambassador was listening to her people again somehow; was she wearing an earpiece that they didn't see, was it telepathy, was it magic? She then smiled, lowered her hand, and asked politely, "Please continue."

Fleming continued by speaking about the matter of course attitude the Yalla had about the Preyna, following up with, "If there's one thing you should know about humanity, it's that we are not prone to sitting idly by when a bully comes along and demands our lunch money."

Even though she and her people had never operated with the tradition of paying for one's elementary school lunch with change, Anya fully understood the concept about which Fleming was speaking; in fact, the reference made her smile a bit wider, just thinking of the scenes that must have unfolded for the youth of Earth -- or at least the UK, US, and other countries with similar situations for their young.

"We stand up to those who terrorize and destroy others," Fleming continued. "Why should our partnership, if it's genuine, not be a military alliance, or the start of one? This Empire sounds like something that should be stopped. Perhaps with your technological prowess and our tenacity, we can stop them together."


Bermuda
The Security Forces Theater

Bob and his partner's cell phones buzzed with a text message reading: Ambassador Connors' wife has taken ill. Escort him out quietly per POTUS. A plane is waiting to take him to her. An Interim Ambassador is on scene. Don't make a scene.


The Summit Theater

Before she could respond to Fleming's questions, though, Anya -- whose people monitored all important electronic communications and told her what they thought she would find important -- looked to the US's rep' and said with a solemn tone, "Ambassador Connor, I am being told that your wife has taken ill, that your President, Allison Dean, has sent someone to sit in for you until you are able to return, and that an aircraft is available to take you to your wife."

There was a bit of a buzz around the table, which Anya knew was a combination of sympathy for Connors and suspicion that the man's exit had been engineered, either by his embarrassed President or the seemingly all-powerful Anya of Oz herself. She continued, "Ambassador Connors, I am being told that -- between you leaving here to board the aircraft waiting for you, getting airborne, flying home to the nearest airport, then using ground transportation to reach your wife, more than 6 hours will have passed."

Anya gestured a finger toward another of those holographic bubbles that seemed to appear whenever she needed one; this one showed the Yallan transport vessel landing on the beach near the Earl Cameron Theater Complex; in contrast to the mayhem that would be caused on the sands by a Human-made helicopter or vertical take-off jet if one of them were to land on the beach, there was virtually no disturbance at all, save for the scattering of beachgoers who made way for the craft as it waited for them to clear away.

"You expressed your curiosity, Ambassador Connors," Anya began before correcting, "Your concerns about whether or not my ships were armed. I would like to invite you to be one of the first Human Beings to travel in an alien ship."

"Are you sure?" the Ambassador from France chimed in. When all eyes turned to her, Chloe Marie Dubois asked with a touch of humor, "Are you sure no other humans have ridden in alien spacecraft before? I mean ... Area 51 ... kidnappings and probings ... ET and Independence Day?"

There was some laughter around the table, and even Anya joined in, saying, "Personally, I enjoyed Mars Attacks! But..."

"In France, we have our own alien abduction reports," Chloe continued. "August of 1967 ... in Cussac. Two children, François, 13, and his sister, little Anne-Marie, who was only 9. They claimed that they'd been invited into a spaceship ... an unidentified flying object where they met the craft's occupants and then flew around the planet ... twice."

There were more soft laughter and playful comments, but Chloe continued, "Anne-Marie ... she was my grandmother." The mood around the table shifted toward the more serious. Chloe looked to Anya, smiled, and said, "The description they gave to their parents, then to the authorities who, sadly, had included, for a short time, the doctors at a Paris mental institute ... that description wasn't too far from how I would describe you, Queen Anya ... if I were to be picked up by a UFO in the middle of a rye field today."

Anya smiled, then chuckled. With a sincere tone, she told Chloe, "I would never say that your grandmother was not to be believed. However, I can tell you that those aliens ... they were not Yallan."

The topic turned back to Connors, with Anya continuing, "You and your security team and Aides are all invited to use my ship, Ambassador. If you have any concerns about being abducted--" Her lips spread in a wide smile as she went on, "--and probed, I can arrange for every moment of your flight to be broadcasted live to the people of Earth."

Then she gave him the detail that she hoped would get a positive answer, "My ship, I am being told, can have you home in 29 minutes, Ambassador Connors ... plus or minus a minute." Anya, of course, knew that the whole ill wife story was a fabrication, but she was more than willing to play into it if it made the negotiations with the Security Council easier.

(Part 2 coming -- I promise, I'll shorten these! I'm just out of control for the moment.)

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

(Part 2)

The Press Theater

"The man is a boorish donkey," Arno LaRoche said about Connors to Florence MacDonald, "but I do not disagree. How do we do something if they are not telling the truth?"

Florence was beginning to become so disturbed by everything that had happened over the past 24+ hours that she'd ceased taking notes or thinking about the story she had to send to her editor; later, she would chastise herself for her unprofessionalism, but right now her brain was overwhelmed with more personal thoughts, the kind one has when they fear that the end is near.

Leaning close to Arno, Florence whispered, "Will you take me back to my hotel room, Arno ... now."


Back at the Summit Theater

Regardless of whether or not Connors took Anya up on her offer, the summit continued, with Sir Henry speaking about the Preyna, Anya hoped, and not the Yallans: "We stand up to those who terrorize and destroy others. Why should our partnership, if it's genuine, not be a military alliance, or the start of one? This Empire sounds like something that should be stopped. Perhaps with your technological prowess and our tenacity, we can stop them together."

"This is not going to happen, Ambassador Fleming," Anya said without hesitation. "The Yallan are a people of peace. We shed out own offensive weapons millennia ago. Today, our technology is used to prevent war, not conduct it. I'm sorry. This is simply not going to happen.

"With regard to building a defensive shield system closer to Earth," she continued, "perhaps even in the Sol System, I have been informed that this, too, is simply not going to happen. The Sol System does not possess the raw materials necessary to build the defensive shield system necessary to protect Earth from discovery by the Preyna. There are only three available courses available to you:

"Fully devolve Earth to a pre-electronic age," she told them with a serious tone, "to prevent the Preyna from ever discovering and then destroying you.

"Partially devolve, permanent or--" and for the first time she mentioned an option that hadn't come up yet,"--for the short term, while the shield system in 48 Areetus is being constructed. Once it is finished, Earth can return to some of its previous technologies. As I said, this will require the transport of between 8 and 12 million Human Beings to provide the necessary labor."

"Or allow me to relocate billions of Human Beings to the Earth-like planets about which I already spoke," she continued. "On these worlds -- which are in a generally opposite direction from Earth than is the Preyna Empire -- Human beings can start over ... build new civilizations without fear of being set up and, possibly, exterminated by the Preyna."

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Naval Air Station (NAS) Norfolk (Headquarters of Naval Special Warfare Development Group AKA DEVGRU AKA Seal Team Six)
Norfolk, VA, USA
7 January 2031, 1530 UTC/1030 LOCAL

Kimmie Lang was overwhelmed by the noise of jets and drones and vehicles on the tarmac ... not to mention that for the first time in almost two years, she'd spotted the only man whom she'd ever truly loved just 80 yards away. She forced herself to keep her back to him, hoping that he wouldn't recognize either her bright golden mane of hair or her wonderfully rounded, pear-shaped ass that stood out so conspicuously in the tight, gray sweatpants she'd chosen for their comfort for the flight.

Then, suddenly, "Kimmie!"

Her heart skipped a beat and her stomach rolled over anxiously at the sound of Brock's voice. Kimmie's hesitance to face the man wasn't due to a desire not to see him, of course; for almost two whole years, she'd yearned to once again be with him -- both with him and with him -- and now, apparently, it was about to happen.

She turned just enough to look back Brock's way, then turned around fully at the sight of the rapidly approaching dog who'd been so appropriately named, Rocket. Kimmie dropped her bag in front of her and dropped her knees onto it just as Rocket reached her to refresh their friendship.

 

[desperado1089]

Bermuda

UN Security Council

Bob and Derek knocked politely on the door; when Fleming opened it, it revealed that the two men had shed their automatic weapons but still wore body armor over their shirts and ties. Connors reluctantly went with them; the two men were going along with the ruse, but would hand Connors off to the DSS agents that had been dispatched along with Ambassador Freeman.

Meanwhile, Fleming turned to Anya and asked, "We would never ask you to compromise your beliefs. If we are going to stop the Preyna, it will be together, yes. But your shields, your engines, will, if all goes well, be used on human-crewed vessels, armed with human-designed weapons. Just...all I ask for now is that you take it under consideration. As for the short-ranged devices, why not construct them on one of those distant planets, then transport them back to Earth for deployment? If they're easier to manufacture, it could provide better protection while we transition to more terrestrial means of communication." A murmur rose among the remaining Ambassadors as Julius Freeman walked into the theater. "I believe that we could indeed start using more old-fashioned techniques with modern twists, Ambassadors. We already have seafloor cables for important communications. If we are going to ground our satellites, the money saved can be used to invest in the ground-based infrastructure we would need to maintain at least some of our global communications infrastructure. If it doesn't send a signal out into the air, it can't attract the attention of those galactic bullies, now can it?" Both Freeman and Fleming hoped Anya would see the wisdom in this combination of plans.

Press Room

"It appears that the general sentiment is that the bullies are not the ones landing on the beach outside," Arno said, showing her his phone with a social media app open where most of the posts are agreeing with Ambassador Fleming's sentiment that they should do something about the Preyna. "But if peace and quiet is your wish, ma cherie, I am, and always will be, powerless to deny your request. Does this mean that we will have to cancel our rendezvous at the beach?" The entire time he spoke, he was gently steering her out of the theater and along the streets towards their hotel.

Security Room

Morgan and Ross returned to the room that housed their colleagues and counterparts, the latter once again sitting next to Carrie and pulling her into a hug, not caring if anyone saw.

Norfolk, VA

As Rocket gave Kimmie the expected 'attack', Brock came up to her and, once Rocket was through, helped her to her feet and pulled her into a bone-crunching hug, the various things that were strapped to his vest the farthest thing from his mind as he embraced the only woman he had ever truly loved. Even Rocket just whined softly and nuzzled her leg.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Bermuda
UN Security Council Theater

Once US Ambassador Connors had departed, the UK's rep' told Anya about the Security Council and Humans as a whole, "We would never ask you to compromise your beliefs." He asked why Yallan tech couldn't be combined with Human weapons to defeat the Preyna threat.

"This, too, will not happen," Anya told him. "The Yalla will not engage in offensive attacks upon any race unless absolutely necessary ... and the Yalla will not help Humans do the same in our place."

Fleming asked if the shields couldn't be built elsewhere and brought to Earth. Anya didn't immediately respond to the UK rep's questions; she had figurative voices in her ear about this very possibility as it had been discussed and debated and researched long before Anya first appeared on Earth as a hologram.

"This is possible, Ambassador," Anya finally responded. "However, this is a..." She hesitated, drawing a deep breath that tended to draw the eyes of some of the Ambassadors -- as well as millions of people around the world -- to her delicious bosom.

Even Chloe, who had her own delicious bosom ogled multiple times a day, couldn't help but lower her gaze to Anya's tits for a short moment. It wasn't Chloe's first glance at the alien's mounds, of course; it was hard not to be drawn to them, even as a female who -- while having partaken of the fairer sex on a handful of occasions in her much younger years -- very much preferred males in her bed.

Anya released her breath, then continued, "This is a possibility, yes ... but the ore that is mined must be refined locally, while still under the gravitational pull of the planets from which it is drawn. And the ore cannot be transported via our teleportation technology. It must be processed and formed into the constituent parts on site. And once construction is completed, the finished shields are too large to be teleported. They must be transported by spacecraft ... with a one-way travel time ... of 78 Earth Years."

Anya looked about the table at each Ambassador, then settled her gaze on Fleming again, putting it simply, "Your idea is entirely valid, Ambassador ... but ... while you will be remembered as a hero for having led us to this possibility ... a possibility that could ultimately save Earth from destruction ... you, Ambassador, will not see its completion in your lifetime."

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Bermuda

Press Room

Arno flashed his phone to Florence, showing how social media was responding to what was happening in the Summit Theater next door.

"It appears that the general sentiment is that the bullies are not the ones landing on the beach outside," he read.

Florence had gone to some of pages she monitored for the Associated Press. But after swiping through and seeing only the bad things happening in the world, she'd pocketed the device.

(OOC: I was going to do a lengthy post with world updates -- generosity and mayhem both -- but I'm on my phone. Later, on my computer.)

When she asked Arno to take her to her hotel room, he told her, "Ma cherie, I am, and always will be, powerless to deny your request."

She was nearest to the aisle, took his hand, and led him away; Florence had initially feared what others might think about two reporters leaving what was probably the most important event in Human history. But she saw that no one was paying them any attention whatsoever, and she needed so badly to be out of this madness and with someone who appreciated her company.

Arno to the lead out off the theater, looking back to ask, "Does this mean that we will have to cancel our rendezvous at the beach?"

Without any concern for being heard, Florence responded, "You're not going to need a nude beach, Arno."


Security Room

Carrie was surprised to feel Bob pull her into a hug, obviously not caring who saw the embrace. She returned the hug, possibly not as energetically, though. When they separated, she glanced around for witnesses, finding a few faces looking their way without much reaction.

Two of those faces, though, belonged to members of the German Security Team, Erik and Heidi. The former was smiling knowingly, while the latter was glaring at her with daggers in her eyes.

There were, of course, reasons for those opposing emotions. Heidi was pissed and, possibly, a bit jealous; she'd spent a couple of nights in bed with Carrie at a G9+ conference, only to discover Carrie the last night of the event bouncing energetically stop an impressive cock.

Erik, of course, had been spring that impressive cock. Carrie has been very surprised to discover that they will l were still work partners. She'd be even more surprised if she was to learn that for more than a year, they'd been life partners, too.

"Sorry," Carrie apologized. "I'm just ... not much of a PDA kinda girl ... the beach being the exception ... 'cause I knew no one there would recognize us

Norfolk, VA

Kimmie had ended up on her back from the ferocious canine's attack, her face and hands badly in need of a toilette from the excited animal's saliva. Brock rescued her, lifting her with the ease of lifting a football of the field and pulling Kimmie into a bone-crunching hug.

"Can't ... breath ... can't..." Kimmie responded, only half joking. When Brock finally released his pincers grip on her tiny form -- petite everywhere except in her D-cups -- she smiled to him, saying with disbelief, "I can't believe your here."

Rocket was whining softly, demanding attention. Kimmie looked down, smiling as she said, "Yes, I can't believe you're here, too.

Looking back to Brock, Kimmie asked with delighted surprise, "What are you doing here?"

 

[desperado1089]

Security Council

A lot of social media and even some commentators on global news networks would begin to argue that the races that the Preyna have subjugated or exterminated would have considered offensive action against the Preyna to be "necessary." Public opinion seemed to begin a groundswell towards joining the galactic community not as people running away with their tails between their legs, but as protectors and guardians. The usual right-wingers started to beat a "Humanity First" drum over the next several hours but the arrival of the Yalla finally broke through the human predilection to separate themselves into "us" and "them," with only a limited amount of hard-core, usually old and homogeneous, people rejecting the calls for unity, even if there was an undercurrent of "if the Yalla don't wanna take the fight to them, do we want them around?" Ambassadors Fleming and Freeman would negotiate and talk their little hearts out throughout the day.

Arno and Florence

When the little redhead pixie mentioned that they wouldn't need a nude beach, Arno chuckled even as his cock stirred. "My dear Florence, I still want to take you, even if, as you say, we don't need one. Perhaps I may want one, hmm?" He entered the hotel, still arm in arm with her, and said, "But as always, I shall be powerless to act in any manner that does not bring you joy or goes against yout wishes in any way." He pressed the button for the elevator and whispered, "Am I about to find out if the carpet matches the drapes?", with a teasing smirk.

Bob and Carrie

Bob rasied an eyebrow at Heidi, wondering if she was angling for a threesome or to castrate him. He flashed Carrie a look that at once said two things: Wanna get out of here?, and Should I be worried?

Brock and Kimmie

"I'm based here, I thought I told you?" He looked around the tarmac, there was no one left outside besides the usual complement of personnel. "Wanna get out of here? I put all your things in storage, but it's on the way. Remember that pink thing you used to like when I controlled it?" He was teasing her and he knew it would work. "Gotta stash my gear. You know what my car looks like!", he said, pointing towards the front gate and parking lot as he went towards the part of the base where even Anya would be denied entry: DEVGRU headquarters.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Bermuda
UN Security Council Theater

Anya told the Ambassadors that Sir Henry Fleming's idea of constructing the shields on the distant planet of 48 Areetus and shipping them to Earth was possible but, "... you will not see its completion in your lifetime."

China's Ambassador, Fan Yue, asked, "Can you explain this more, Ambassador Anya." She purposely referred to the alien by the title that applied to this Summit, not the one that applied to her rule over the Yallan Realm. "How is it that you ... as an animated being ... can be transported from one point to a very distant point in a fraction of a second ... yet the shield must be transported by a physical vessel?"

France's Ambassador, Chloe Marie Dubois, joined the questioning with, "Why can't the individual parts of the shield be ... teleported if the word, yes...? Not transported? How is it that you can ... teleport thousands ... millions of Human Beings to this planet, 48 Areetus, but you cannot teleport the shield parts ... to be assembled here on Earth by those very same millions of Human Beings.?"

Anya hesitated, listening and silently communicating with her ship, before saying, "I believe you would be better served by hearing this explained to you directly by one of my scientists most familiar with the project."

A moment later -- in the same fashion as Anya had appeared earlier -- a tiny, incredibly bright spot of light appeared above the stage floor, expanded into a sphere about 3 meters in diameter, then vanished, leaving behind a second Yallan, also a female. She was nearly a virtual copy of Anya physically, just a few centimeters shorter and a few centimeters wider at the three measurements that most typical Western woman knew about their own shapes.

The differences were her hair and her wardrobe. The former was black as black and super fine just like Anya's but cut in a very short, bob style that didn't even reach her collar. The latter was far more obvious; rather than the elegant, body-hugging, gray-and-golden minidress and leather-like boots that reached upward beyond the knees that Anya wore, this second Yallan wore a loose-fitting, white coverall that mimicked what a typical Human scientist might wear in a lab.

The moment the other Yallan caught sight of Anya, she dropped to her knees and looked to the floor before her. Anya rose, heading the other woman's way as she said, "Please allow me to introduce Della, one of our most skilled, most educated, and most logical of Logistics Supervisors."

Anya stopped close to Della, reached out a hand to place it atop Della's head, and lowered her eyes to the floor, too. They remained like that for a good ten seconds before Anya pulled her hand back and Della simultaneously rose to look her Queen in the eyes.

Anya asked Della to explain to our honored friends and partners why the ore had to be mine and refine and the shield constructed within gravity and atmosphere of the 48 Areetus planets from which it came. As Anya returned to her chair, Della did as ordered and -- with the other the occasional use of dozens of more hologram bubbles -- explained in great detail why the process had to be completed on 48 Areetus and the completed shields transported by faster-than-lightspeed ships, not the teleporter.

When she finished, there was no doubt left that the project had to be completed in this way, even though there was still a great deal of disappointment and even anger about the facts.


Arno and Florence

"Perhaps I may want one, hmm?" Arno said when Florence said they didn't need a clothing-optional beach to do what she wanted to do with him.

She giggled, beginning to relax ever so slowly about what she was wanting to do, and told him, "It's your choice, but ... I'm not about to do what I want to do ... what I hope you know I want to do ... with sand up my crack."

They ended up back at their hotel, then, with Arno taking Florence in his arms as they headed for the elevator. He wondered aloud, "Am I about to find out if the carpet matches the drapes?"

Again, she giggled, blushing this time. Florence couldn't remember whether or not she'd told him what President Allison Dean's Chief of Staff had said about her private spaces, or whether he might have heard it from someone else. Again, her response was playful and lewd at the same time: "What carpet?"

(OOC: I have to quit here; falling asleep at the keyboard.)

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Bermuda
UN Security Council Summit

Bob and Carrie

"C'mon," Carrie Underhill told Bob Ross when she caught the German security folk eying them. "Let's get a drink." She saw Bob's reaction to the word drink and gave him a don't worry about it gesture/expression as she urged him away from where they'd been standing in the aisle between seats.

Out the doors to the theater and down the main hall to a bit of an alcove that wasn't in anyone else's line of sight, Carrie pulled a small metal flask from her jacket's inside pocket. She explained, "I confiscated it from one of the ushers while they were being cleared by the Head of US Security." She took a swig and offered it to Bob, not knowing whether he would partake or not while on the job.

She'd seen the way Bob had reacted to being stared down by the Germans and explained about the G9+ event ... in a sense; she told him that she'd been with Erik and that Heidi hadn't appreciated it, but left out the fact that she'd been with Heidi first and not only had Erik been fine with it, but he'd actually asked if they could all three get together at least once.

Carrie would have taken Erik up on his request -- she liked FMF threesomes -- but Heidi had still been pissed that Carrie had fucked Erik without letting her know first. Carrie can still remember laughing at the woman's anger and confessing, "Fuck, Heidi. I had no idea that I was going to fuck him until I was tearing his clothes off. What kind of heads up did you think I was going to send ... Enigma?"

Carrie also had a thing for MFM threesomes, and moving up closer to Bob asked him with a devilish smirk and a gentle cupping of his crotch, "I don't suppose you're interested in an Erik-Carrie-Bob sandwich, are you?"


Brock and Kimmie

"I'm based here," Brock told Kimmie in answer to her question about why he was here at this base. "I thought I told you?"

"Knew...? How could I know?" she laughed, looking about herself. "I have no idea where I am ... seriously! Where the hell are we?"

Brock gave her the information, then asked, "Wanna get out of here? I put all your things in storage, but it's on the way."

"What...? Wait ... what?" Kimmie exclaimed. "How did you know I was coming here? I didn't even know I was coming here!"

What Kimmie couldn't know was that certain strings were being pulled by a certain Alien Queen to put together a team of very specific individuals, amongst them one Astrobiologist who -- despite her youth -- was one of the most knowledgeable people in the world when it came to the possibility of life beyond Planet Earth; as well as a very highly trained Special Forces team that was soon going to be offered the opportunity of a lifetime: being the first people to set foot on an alien planet.

It would basically be a real-life reenactment of the Stargate scene where Daniel Jackson -- now the lovely Kimberly "Kimmie" Lang -- was escorted to the arid planet of Abydos by a SF team led by Colonel Jack O'Niel ... only, Brock wasn't the leader of the team, was he? It had been so long since Kimmie had spoken to him that she didn't know where his career had taken him.

"Remember that pink thing you used to like when I controlled it?" her former lover teased.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, slapping wildly at him several times with open hands as she asked in shock, "How do you bring that up here in the middle of ... remind me again, where are we?"

He said he needed to deal with his gear, and Kimmie rounded up her backpack and back, too. "You know what my car looks like!"

"You still have that thing?" she asked, giggling. They had had some good times in that thing, mostly because of the logistics issue with him being assigned to a barracks full of men and Kimmie sharing a big house with 8 girls and a no sex rule. "Yeah, I know what I'm looking for." She waggled her hands at him, hollering, "Keys please."

She headed for the parking lot but reaching the sidewalk just outside the base was intercepted by a big black SUV, from which four Men In Black types emerged. One of them asked with the tone that said he already knew the answer to his question, "Miss Kimberly Lang?"

Even before she could respond, two of the men were already taking her bags, and the inquiring mind was escorting her to the back seat, saying, "Please come with us, Miss."

"But wait! Wait!" she tried to counter them. Despite the nearly two-year gap in their lives, Kimmie called out, "My boyfriend's waiting for me. Wait! What the hell...?"

But the 5'5", 122-pound Kimmie had no chance, and in a flash they were flying away from the military base for -- again! -- a destination unknown.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Bermuda
On the beach adjacent to the Earl Cameron Theater

The transfer of custody of former United States Ambassador to the United Nations, Richard Dick Connors was one of the oddest in the history of law enforcement. He'd politely and quietly removed from the smallest of the three Theaters, the Grand Small Theater, by his own assigned protection team. He'd then been passed to the United Nations Special Security Team for the walk down to the curb and the car waiting for him, which happened to be owned and manned by the Bermudian Police Department.

Once in that car, Connors had been driven a mere four city blocks to the edge of the sandy beach, where the Beach Patrol -- which was only sort of a law enforcement agency -- took responsibility of the man solely because the vehicle into which he was next getting was sandy beach capable.

After that, it was a short, 50 second ride parallel to the surf to get as close to the Yallan Transport Vessel as they were allowed; one of the lifeguards had been surprised as shit to get an odd text message from an unknown source tell him where to plant the sand poles and string the plastic tape that were normally used for closing portions of the beach due to emergencies such as a dead body or sewage overflow and what-not.

The Beach Patrol told Connors that he was to approach the transport alone; "We got orders, by text," one of them told the man. Presuming he followed up on Anya's offer, he'd find a ramp lowering for him and two Yallan males waiting at the top. They were in flight suits but didn't wear helmets, and they shared the Yallan look with which Connors was already familiar: black-black hair, cut much like the military style of the US Armed services, and the same silver-gray skin color that Anya had. The males were tall, though, pushing 6'4" with tall, thin, fit bodies like the lightest weight of NBA players.

The Flight Commander would tell Connors to take any one of the 20 passenger seats available. "Or, if you prefer, you can sit up front in the cockpit." There were three seats set in a triangle pattern, with the Flight Commander normally sitting in the rear seat and the Pilot and Co-Pilot sitting in the side-by-side seats up front. He explained, "On a casual mission such as this, I actually take the place of the Co-Pilot. So if you wished, you could take my seat. It has the best view of all."

Once they were all settled in -- there was no need for seatbelts due to the inertial dampening systems -- the transport would lift off vertically and then head west toward the United States and Connors destination ... which it would turn out wasn't his home at all but was the White House, where POTUS was waiting to speak to her former Ambassador.

Flight time from Bermuda to Washington DC: 7 minutes from liftoff to landing.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

About 3 hours later after her kidnapping:

Kimmie Lang had been transferred from the blacked-out SUV to a sleek looking helicopter that smelled of CIA but wasn't; then, after a flight to what was obviously Washington, D.C. -- during which she noticed there was no communications with any flight towers or other aircraft -- she found herself in another blacked-out SUV heading through town to, of all places, the entrance to the underground garage of the fucking White House!

Again, for the umpteenth time, Kimmie asked her kidnappers, "What the hell's going on? Where are you taking ... I mean, I know where you're taking me now! But ... what the hell?"

The MIB-types escorted Kimmie through a maze of passageways in which no one else was to be seen and -- if she'd had a reason to look for them -- all of the security cameras had been removed from their mounts high in the corners of the walls. Suddenly, she found herself standing in the Oval Office, looking at POTUS, smiling at her like they were the best friends in the world.

"Hello, Kimberly," Allison Dean said with a happy tone as she crossed closer to her and offered out her hand. "I'm--"

"You're the frickin' President of the United States!" Kimmie gasped, looking at the offered hand as if it were the Crown jewels and she shouldn't be touching them. Eventually, though, Kimmie did take it, shake, and then ask with an almost panicked tone, "Please, Missus Pres-- Madam President ... isn't that right? I mean, on television--"

POTUS laughed, gestured Kimmie to one of the two couches facing one another, and said, "How about for now, while we are in here together, you call me Allison."

Kimmie smiled, then immediately exploded into giggles which she eventually managed to suppress enough to respond, "No frickin' way ... Allison...? My dad would tan my hide with a belt."

Allison joined the laughter and compromised, "Okay, how about Madam President. That's what everyone else calls--"

Kimmie cut in with the emotion and body language of a child who knew they were about to have the hide tanned, "What am I doing here ... Madam President?"

"I need your help ... is it Kimberly...? Or Kimmie?" Allison asked. "I heard that--"

"Kimmie, Madam President," the younger woman responded. "Again, my father would tan my hide and tell me to tell you that it's Kimberly ... but ... I prefer..." She let the thought fade away, then with a desperate tone said, "Madam President ... Allison ... I need to make a phone call ... please! My boyfriend ... I mean, I think he's my boyfriend ... he was my boyfriend ... until I left him ... but ... he left me first ... but he's a soldier, so ... I guess he didn't really leave me--"

"This would be Brock, correct?" Allison cut in politely. When Kimmie simply stared at her in surprise, POTUS clarified, "Petty Officer 3rd Class Joe Samson, United States Navy. I believe he's with Special Forces."

"Um ... ye-e-eah," Kimmie responded in shock. "How ... how do--"

"Like you said ... I'm the frickin' President of the United States," Allison filled in. "Don't worry. Brock ... he goes by Brock, yes...? Brock is fully aware of where you are and that you are safe."

That wasn't entirely true, of course, at least about the where part. Brock had been met by his Commanding Officer and another MIB-type guy from Secret Service who -- without identifying his agency -- had explained to Brock that Miss Lang had been called away, was safe, and would be contacting him within 24 hours.

"Yes, Brock," Kimmie confirmed. Allison began to explain the reason for Kimmie being brought to the White House but only got a dozen words into it before the younger woman tentatively held a finger up, saying, "I'm ... I'm so sorry ... Madam President ... but ... I need to make a call ... really!"

"Well, I would really like to explain to you why you were--"

Beginning to show her panic, Kimmie stressed, "I really need to make a call ... please! I need to call Brock ... now!"

Allison began to grow concerned; Kimmie was turning even more pale than she already was, and her breathing was becoming strained. POTUS hopped up to open the door to the outer office and requested that someone fetch the White House Doctor before returning to Kimmie, taking her hands in her own, and questioning her about any health conditions she might have.

An Aide hurried inside, then back out again; the Doctor arrived, checked Kimmie's vitals, showed and led her in a breathing exercise to alleviate the anxiety, and -- only after the young woman swore up and down that she was fine -- finally departed, telling Allison, "I will be right outside if you need me, Madam President."

Once they were alone again, Kimmie gestured a need to speak to Allison up close, then whispered, "Is ... is the ... the Oval bugged ... you know, like in the movies--"

Allison chuckled softly; before late last night, when if had been determined that the Yallans were obviously listening into electronic communications, there had been listening devices throughout the Oval Office, but they'd been put there by Secret Service by the President's request. "No, dear, there are no bugs in this office."

Kimmie edged out so far on the couch that her butt was ready to slip off and send her to the floor. Looking left and right as if checking for intruders, she whispered something so softly that Allison whispered back, "I'm sorry, dear. I didn't hear that."

The younger woman's heart was pounding fiercely as she repeated -- this time just a bit louder -- only to have Allison smile wide, then laugh aloud. "Oh, honey. I ... I thought it was something life-threatening or Earth shattering."

Kimmie looked at her desperately, whispering, "But ... it's been two years...!"

Allison laughed again, grasping Kimmie's hands and squeezing them. "My dear, I totally understand. After my husband and I got married and had our first child ... our unfortunately only child..." She didn't want to make things worse for the girl by telling her what it could be like for some couples, so instead she asked, "Would you like me to have your guy Brock brought here?"

Kimmie's eyes swelled to twice their size as she sat up tall again, asking with shock, "Here? To the White House? Why?"

Allison laughed yet again, answering, "To break the cold spell, of course." She leaned in again, whispering, "How many people do you think can say that they had sex in the White House...?"

Allison broke into the less-than-secret, secret stories of Trump, Clinton, even Papa Bush -- not to mention JFK -- but she could see that Kimmie wasn't consciously hearing what she was saying. She took her hands again, squeezing them gently as she said, "If you want to bring your boyfriend here for a visit, Kimmie ... I can arrange it. After all ... I am the frickin' President of the United States of America."

Kimmie suddenly felt a blush explode through her face and much of her upper body, causing her to get dizzy from the lack of blood actually going to her brain. She was hesitant to say what she wanted to say -- Yes, please, please, please, I want to see Brock, I want to FUCK Brock, and I want to do it here in the frickin' White House -- and instead only nodded her head energetically.

"Okay, let me make a--" Allison began, stopping when she remembered that this couldn't be done by electronic communications in the simplest, station-to-station way. She reassured Kimmie, "I'll get this done. He'll be here in just a couple of hours ... okay?"

After Kimmie nodded her head, she asked, "So ... why am I here, Madam President?"

Allison smiled, saying, "Well, I'm glad you asked that..."

 

[desperado1089]

Bermuda
Security Council

Satisfied that the process of constructing the short-range orbital signal blockers could not, in fact, be done in the Sol system, the Ambassadors turned their attention to other matters: how the laborers would be selected, for one, as well as the exact locations where the short-range portals that would ferry people around the world would be dropped. Fleming spoke up. "Do helicopters need to be grounded, Your Highness? I'm certain your people know what those are. And, umm, there is still a great deal of animosity between portions of Humanity that cannot be resolved so easily. In fact, without the specter of mutually-assured destruction, those animosities might become the impetus for what military action we are still capable of, on a large scale." He was, of course, referring to the possibility of Russian tanks pouring over the border with the rest of Europe (or NATO tanks doing the reverse), of China surrounding Taiwan and threatening naval bombardment if they do not capitulate, of North Korea forcibly subjugating the South. Just because aerial combat and nuclear Armageddon had been taken from the picture, did not mean that war would become a thing of the past.

"With that in mind, Ambassador," Freeman piped up, "if you are as knowledgeable about us as you seem to be, you surely know that there are those among our leaders who are less amenable to peace than others." The Russian Ambassador looked uncomfortable, but even he would admit that he'd much rather Vladimir Putin's policies and actions not so often undermine the work he did here. "They have committed multiple acts that we consider contemptible and criminal, and they are surrounded by armed men who would make bringing them to justice difficult and bloody." If he could control the bubbles, he would play raw footage of the war in Ukraine. "What, if anything, do you plan to do should war break out despite your actions to neutralize our aerial and missile defenses?"

Arno and Florence

Arno chuckled at her responses. "As for the beach, ma cherie, we need not do that upon the sand. It is merely a way to become closer, or to become freer. Ideally both. As for the carpet and drapes situation...would you consider changing that for the right partner? It's just, redheads with the matching carpet, as they say, is something of a weakness of mine. A rather significant one. You think I am powerless to resist your charms now, just wait until you stop shaving for a while."

Bob and Carrie

Declining the offer of a drink, Bob smirked when Carrie mentioned threesomes. When she cupped his crotch, he groaned appreciatively. "I would be more interested in a Bob-Carrie-Heidi sandwich," he offered in response, then waited to see what kind of reaction he would get.

NAS Norfolk
Brock

When Brock emerged from the base's front gate, he stopped short when he saw his car without Kimmie leaning against it; he had to grab his keys from his gear cage, so he couldn't have given them to her. "KIMMIE!", he shouted, clearly about to lose his shit. Just then, an NCIS Agent came running up, a man that Brock knew from when one of his BUD/s classmates was murdered and the killer attempted to frame him. "Torres? What're you doing here, man? Hey, listen, my girlfriend is missing, can you get on the horn to the local cops and coordinate with the MA's?" Torres chuckled. "Good to see you too, Brockinator, but you ain't gotta worry about her. She's with the CinC right now, probably about why they pulled her from her PhD project. Hey, while I got your attention, she got a sister?" Despite the relief he felt, Brock playfully socked Torres on the arm. "Ow, watch it, Frogman, these biceps are national treasures!"

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Earl Cameron Theater
Bermuda
Royal Small Theater (Security Council Summit)

Anya was thankful that the Ambassadors had accepted -- some of them reluctantly -- what Della, her Logistics Supervisor, had explained to them about the restrictions they had regarding the shields' construction and relocation to Earth. Anya promised the representatives, "I will do everything I can to protect Earth and its people. If we discover a method by which we can better serve you, I promise you ... we will follow it."

The discussion turned to how the shield's laborers would be selected. Anya told them, "It is not my place to pick and choose which Human Beings relocate to 48 Areetus, obviously. The method by which they are selected is up to them ... and you, their representatives ... their Ambassadors."

Anya looked into the middle of the table, which had the effect of making it appear as though she was looking directly at all those from around the world who were watching live. "Some of you ... likely most of you ... may fear that the planets of 48 Areetus that are capable of supporting Human life are likely nothing more than lifeless rocks. I promise you, they are anything but."

Another bubble appeared in the Royal Small Theater, but this one was large enough and purposely placed to surround the entire table at which the Security Council members sat. As they looked about them, in any direction, they saw a representation of the surface of the planet that Anya was about to describe; as she moved from one clime to another, the image shifted to the new one.

She described Areetus V -- the planet more distant from the sun -- as the colder of the two habitable planets. She spoke of vast savannas and grasslands around its middle which gave way to tundra farther north and south. Oceans surrounded those three continents, as well as a fourth one that surrounded the North Pole.

"It is on this continent," she said about the northmost one as the images faded from vast landscapes of green rolling hills and prairies to a stark, white snowscape, "where the mining of the ore will take place. Do not fear this land!" She described how machinery and other equipment to be built by the Humans living in the planet's middle would do most of the work.

"Once this equipment is in place," she said with a positive tone, "only a small number of Human Beings will be required to operate and maintain it. And this work can be distributed over a great number of people ... as many as wish to relocated to Areetus V. Imagine working hard for ten or fifteen days and then getting a hundred of them off to explore and enjoy a vast and unknown planet.

"Areetus IV," Anya continued about the inner-more planet, "is a warmer, more tropical world." The images showed vast tropical forests and wetlands, with wide, meandering rivers cutting through or around them. "While Areetus V has plant and animal life in its seas which can feed a future Human population, Areetus IV has the distinction of already supporting plant life on land. It is our belief that the land will support a vast variety of Earth-sourced plants to satisfy the Human population living there."

China's Ambassador, Fan Yue, asked, "If the ore is to be found on this first planet, Areetus V ... why are we bothering with the other planet? It is beautiful, yes, but why colonize it if we don't need what--"

Fan went quiet when Anya politely raised an index finger to interrupt her, then pointed to the Logistics Supervisor.

"There are two resources found on Areetus IV which we will need for construction the refining facilities on Areetus V," Della answered. "Without them, this is for naught."

"Plus...!" a female voice chimed in. All eyes at the Ambassadors' table turned to the French Ambassador, Chloe Marie Dubois, who said to Fan, "It's beautiful. Who wouldn't want to live there?" She looked back to Anya, asking, "May I be the first to volunteer to go there?"

There were different reactions around the table, as well as 3,500 miles away in France where millions of Chloe's fellow countrymen were watching the Summit, either for interest in the future of the Human Race or simply to ogle their Ambassador, who -- no matter what she wore -- was rarely able or even willing to hide her delicious body.

"Consider yourself the first, Ambassador Dubois," Anya said, smiling and nodding her head respectfully. "On that topic the one of who can relocate to 48 Areetus ... it is not up to me or the Yallan People to decide which Human Beings move to these planets. This is up to you, the People of Earth." She could have said more on that, but she didn't want to delve into the politics of each of the countries.

(Part 2 on its way)

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Sir Henry brought up the short-range portals that would ferry people home from wherever they were in the world that was not home. "Do helicopters need to be grounded, Your Highness?"

"My people are at this very moment inspecting and programming the portals for use by Human Beings," Anya answered, "as well as calculating the best locations ... locations that will move the greatest number of people in the shortest amount of time.

"On a related topic," she continued, "I was reminded by my People that I should clarify the restrictions on air flight," she began. "The issue is not the aircraft themselves. It is the radio communications that occurs between them and those controlling the airspace. I have an offer that I believe might satisfy not just you as the representatives of your people ... but your people as well. My ship can conduct communications between your commercial aircraft and their controllers ... for now.

"This is not something that we can manage long term," Anya stressed, "but ... we could do so for, say, 20 days." She looked around the table, asking, "Would this work for you?"

Chloe was the first to speak up, saying, "The people of France will make this work." She'd been told the night before that the Government of France had already issued a come home order for all French citizens around the world.

Fan Yue was less enthusiastic about the offer, despite it being far better than the first one, which -- if she was doing her math correctly -- ran out in less than 9 hours. But still she said, "I will speak to my boss, Xi Jinping." He had too many titles from which Fan could choose, so she skipped it. "I believe that he would approve of this offer, Ambassador Anya."

Sir Henry once again brought up an important topic: the current animosities that Earth's various States and Nations held for one another. "In fact, without the specter of mutually assured destruction, those animosities might become the impetus for what military action we are still capable of, on a large scale."

The American Ambassador, Julius Freeman, chimed in, speaking of those world leaders who were less amenable to peace than others. "What, if anything, do you plan to do should war break out despite your actions to neutralize our aerial and missile defenses?"

"I would like to make yet another offer to the people of Earth," Anya said in her typical, calm demeanor, despite the topic being the potential for worldwide conflict. "Before I do, I wish to remind you, their representatives, that this Summit is being broadcasted live across the globe. I have been informed by my People that at this very moment, more than 3.8 billion Human Beings from all across the globe are watching us negotiate the future of Earth. They have great hope for what happens here today ... and, I believe, what we are about to discuss is of great interest and importance to most, if not all of them."

Anya paused to scan the faces of the Ambassadors; some were filled with great interest -- even hope -- in what she was about to say, while others were filled with apprehension. She told them, "I and my People have the ability to monitor all forms of electronic communications around the globe. I'm sure that this is not a surprise to anyone here at this table, nor is it a surprise to the public at large as it had already been greatly reported by social media and mass media.

"Thus far, we have not shared any of the information gleaned from one State or Nation with another State or Nation," Anya continued. "However ... if each of you ... the true representatives of your States in my eyes ... were to permit me ... I could end war on planet Earth through a variety of means."

Anya could see more of that interest, hope, and anxiety around the table as she continued. "The first and most significant means at my disposal ...is the end of secrecy. Those electronic communications about which I spoke...? They include the orders for deployment of troops ... violent incursions into peaceful towns and cities by both State-sponsored armies and paramilitary forces ... the shelling of those peaceful towns and cities with the result of the dead being primarily the young, the elderly, the infirmed ... the people who play no direct part in these conflicts, but who are often the greatest loss of life."

Chloe stuck her hand up in the air again, saying firmly, "France votes yes. France ... votes for peace." She looked around the table for support, setting her gaze upon the only other female at the table.

Fan was hesitant to follow suit with the lady from Paris. Her country was engaged in hostilities or occupations in a dozen different places around the world, most but not all along the 13,500-mile border they share with 14 other nations. Plus, after 82 years of staring across the Taiwan Strait at it, the leaders of the People's Republic of China had finally set a date for the invasion of Taiwan, and it was only 28 days away! Surely, the Yallans knew all about this invasion, but had they shared it with the Republic of China yet?

Despite knowing that she would likely be jailed or even executed upon her return to her homeland, Fan raised her hand and said, "The People's Republic of China votes for peace."

 

[desperado1089]

UN Security Council

After receiving a text on his phone from the Prime Minister, Fleming said, proudly, "The United Kingdom votes for peace!" And after receiving a similar text, Ambassador Freeman stood up, and proudly declared, "The United States of America, on behalf of all of her citizens, of all those who cannot be represented here today, and of our children, and our children's children, votes for peace."

All eyes now turned to the Russian Ambassador. Besides China, Russia had long been considered possible adversaries for the US and her allies in a potential third world war, both before and after the fall of the Iron Curtain. The answer that the Russian Ambassador gave would likely either spark a significant effort by his mob-like boss to attempt to obfuscate his future crimes (in the case of a vote for peace); or, it would finally be a bit of honesty, a confirmation of what the rest of the world already knew: the Kremlin was occupied by opportunistic, greedy, brutal thugs who swung their stick around and expected to get away with it (in the case of a vote against peace.)

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Bermuda
Earl Cameron Theater
The Foyer, outside the Security Forces' Theater

As she playfully cupped his crotch, massaging his package in an attempt to get him hard and perhaps embarrass him if they needed to suddenly address someone else in the Hall, Carrie listened to Bob with a growing smile as he responded to her offere of a MFM threesome with the German, Erik, by instead offering, "I would be more interested in a Bob-Carrie-Heidi sandwich.

Playfully, Carrie gave him a sudden, tight squeeze that caused him to reaction with concern, then laughed at both that reaction and his negotiation. "I don't think Heidi would do that with me after what happened between the two of us."

She looked up and down the Hall from their little hiding spot in an entry alcove, then moved forward more to kiss him with opened lips and an exploring tongue. When she pulled back again and released her hold on his cock and balls, Carrie told him, "However ... I think Ellie Crane might. You remember her ... the beautiful redheaded barista at the Church Beach club ... the one with the incredible nipples who gave you the key to the gate."

Carrie's phone had begun vibrating while she was talking, and now she pulled it from her pocket to find that the Special Branch Protection Supervisor -- who was somewhere else in the Earl Cameron Theater -- had sent her a text. She immediately looked around for him, certain that her British boss had caught her manhandling her American lover's cock. When she saw no sight of him, she opened and read the text, telling Bob with some urgency, "I gotta go. But ... my room tonight, when they let us all go back to The Loren at Pink Beach?


Arno and Florence

As he led Florence out toward the taxis and Towncars lining the road before the Theater, Arno teased, "As for the carpet and drapes situation...would you consider changing that for the right partner?"

"Changing?" she asked, confused about his meaning; she thought that maybe she was losing something in the man's French-to-English translation between his brain to his mouth.

"It's just, redheads with the matching carpet, as they say," Arno went on, "is something of a weakness of mine."

He asked if she would forego shaving and let her curly, red patch grow back, to which Florence's reaction was to suddenly stop dead in her tracks, pulling her hand from his before backing up a step. Arno should have certainly been able to see in her face that he'd said something that bothered her, and Florence most definitely could see in his face that he wasn't sure what it had been.

"I ... I need to ... I need you to ... understand something, Arno," Florence began with a great deal of hesitation in her voice.

She looked around for eavesdroppers, and while there were some people looking their way -- various security personnel and police, other reporters, civilians who were being kept beyond hastily erected barricades -- there wasn't anyone near enough to hear Florence's softly spoken words. She moved closer but remained just out of Arno's reach as she explained, "I ... I've only been with two men in my life ... sexually."

She paused, her eyes on the ground between them. "Neither was a ... happy time. Neither of them treated me the way I'd expected I'd be treated." Looking back up into his eyes, she said, "Arno, I'm not saying that you are anything like them. I don't believe you are. You're sweet. You're chivalrous." She smirked a bit wider, adding, "You look incredible naked."

Her phone chimed, and she pulled it out, looked at the sender's name, ignored it, and put it away again. Then she continued, "I want to be with you, Arno ... so bad. But I need you to promise me something ... otherwise ... or else this isn't going anywhere."

She stepped a bit closer this time, back into his reachable zone should he decide to reach for her. She put it out there, "I need you to--" She dress a deep, anxious breath, then let it out as she finished, "I need you to let me ... be in charge. I ... I know what I want from you ... and ... I know that if I don't get it ... I'll be crushed."

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

NAS Norfolk

As Brock and his NCIS buddy, Nick Torres, stood out in front of the air terminal, yet another blacked-out SUV practically slid to a stop just feet from them. Three MIB-types leapt out as others had to kidnap Kimmie earlier, but instead of attempting to manhandle the SF member into the big Chevy, one of them instead greeted, "Petty Officer Joe Samson, I'm Agent Oliver with Secret Service. I wonder if you could come with us, please?"

If Brock asked what was happening, Oliver would tell him he couldn't explain outside an electronically secured environment, which the inside of the SUV was. He then looked to Nick and added, "Agent Torres, you are welcome to accompany us if you wish."

Once in the vehicle -- if they got into the vehicle -- they would be deprived of their electronics, which were then left outside the SUV with one of the men. Inside, Oliver would tell Brock that Kimberly Lang was awaiting him at the White House and that only then would he be told anything more.

 

[desperado1089]

Bob and Carrie
Bob listened, and Carrie's words did little to help his gallant reflex; when she finally pulled away after hinting that the most ideal candidate for an MFF threesome was the cute barista, and that Carrie, at least, would be 'down to clown' this evening, he would grunt softly as he attempted to shift himself so that said reflex wouldn't be immediately noticeable. "It's a date," he quipped, knowing that they weren't a couple (yet) but thinking that it was an appropriate label regardless. After all, he wanted to see where this went, and that logically required remaining with her until that was no longer an option.

Arno and Florence
"My dear Florence, if taking the proverbial reins is what you need to do, then that is what you shall do. If I may ask a question, however: is this going to be the case all of the time? There is no answer which will push me away, ma cherie. I would just like to know what to expect." Arno had, of course, pulled her close when she stepped back into range to do so and continued to just hold her, rubbing her back softly, reassuringly.


NAS Norfolk
"Nah, I need to get back to DC. Have fun, man!" He clapped Brock on the shoulder, who looked to the Secret Service agent with an embarrassed expression as he tugged at his North Face jacket, which was worn over blue jeans and Doc Martens, along with a turtleneck sweater. "Um, I'm a little under-dressed to see the President, sir. Might I head back inside to grab my dress uniform?"

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Bermuda
UN Security Council

One after another, Security Council members announced their votes for peace, which just moments now would become one of the headlines popping up -- often preceded by a hashtag -- all across social media and even the mainstream Press. All eyes turned to the only Ambassador yet to vote, Russia's Vasily Alekseyevich Nebenzya.

The 62 year old had been a Soviet Union soldier, a KGB officer, and -- after the USSR's collapse -- had then held a number of public positions that had at times included cover tasks. He'd become Vladimir Putin's voice at the UN just prior to the invasion of Ukraine, and for more than a decade, had been preventing the UN from doing any real good in helping the people of Ukraine.

The War as it has once been called had slowed to little more than occasional rocket and drone attacks, almost exclusively by Russia against Ukraine. But people were still dying there every day, from violence, starvation, disease, and more.

Vasily had progressively become less supportive of Putin since the invasion, but he'd been steadfastly loyal to the leader. He also has had no choice; for more than for decades, he'd been in constant fear for his family's safety, knowing that any betrayal could see his children or their children pay for his actions.

Now, though, he saw something that he could do that was far bigger than even his own family; suddenly, Vasily had the future of the Human Race in his hands. There wasn't but a handful of people throughout the history of humankind who could say that, with most of them having been past leaders who'd had their finger over the button of their nuclear arsenals.

"I need clarification on an issue before I cast my vote, Queen Anya," he began, using her Royal title rather than her diplomatic one. She nodded for him to proceed with his question. "I am simply my country's Ambassador to the United Nations. I am not the leader of my country."

Anya knew where he was going with this and reminded Vasily, "Your country's leader permitted you to speak with me ... with us ... on behalf of your People. I believe you have a phrase here ... for all intents and purposes...?"

Vasily nodded confirmation, to which Anya continued, "For all intents and purposes, Ambassador, you are the leader of your people here today."

The Russian smiled to the alien, looked around to his fellow Ambassador, stood, and said boldly, "Russia votes ... for peace."

Anya rose to join the standing Security Council, interlaced the fingers of both hands before her -- her palms remained separated and her thumbs pointed skyward -- and bowed her head. She spoke in her native tongue -- without the words being translated here or across the globe -- then repeated the words to be translated worldwide, "Peace be among friends."

Then, adding to it, Anya said, "For we are all friends today ... and tomorrow."

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

NAS Norfolk

"Nah, I need to get back to DC," the NCIS Agent responded to the Secret Service Agent's invitation to come along." To Brock he said, "Have fun, man!"

Brick looked to the MIN-type, saying about his casual wardrobe, "Um, I'm a little under-dressed to see the President, sir. Might I head back inside to grab my dress uniform?"

"You aren't seeing the President, Pretty Officer," the Agent said. "I can't tell you more, I'm sorry." The man opened the back passenger door, saying, "Please. We are on somewhat of a schedule, I'm told."

Looking to the well trained canine sitting dutifully by Brock's feet, the Agent asked, "Does he get air sick...? On a helo?"

 

[desperado1089]

NAS Norfolk

Brock scoffed at the notion that the dog would get airsick. "Rocket here has been on missions that would make your hair stand on end, sir. He has been shot at, almost blown up, and been on HALO jumps. Airsick on helos," he said, muttering the last part as if it were the most preposterous thing in the world, shouldering his pack and commanding Rocket to get in the SUV ahead of him, climbing in the back as well.

The drive was short and when Brock saw the waiting helicopter, its rotors already spinning up, he smiled. Now that's what I call the VIP treatment, he thought to himself as he recognized the dark green color scheme along with the Presidential seal and the words "UNITED STATES OF AMERICA" printed proudly across the top of the fuselage. It was part of the Presidential helicopter fleet, any one of which would carry the callsign "Marine One" when POTUS was aboard.

The Secret Service guy escorted Brock and Rocket to the chopper and opened the door, and man and dog both got inside and got comfortable as he wondered what the actual fuck was going on. After a flight northward during which he dozed off, he saw the familiar skyline of DC and another craft already parked on the lawn of the White House a half mile ahead of them. "Whoa, is that one of Anya's support ships?", he asked the Secret Service guy, who answered in the affirmative. "Wonder what it's doing here," he said aloud but any further speculation was immediately wiped from his mind when he saw Kimmie waiting for them on the White House lawn. Rocket saw her too and gave a happy bark.