"Coming Home" (You may join any time you wish)

[AnotherOldGuy]

Taylor asked the Technician to run the footage back to the beginning. He watched it for the third time, asking, "What was the source?"

"A privately owned satellite, Mister President," the Tech answered, tapping at her keyboard to bring up the information. "American ... publicly, it's contracted by the International Nuclear Regulatory Commission to monitor Iran and North Korea. It's path takes it over both countries a few times a day."

"The INRC gave us these pictures?"

"No, sir," a man with a Visitor ID said from nearby. "The CIA has tasking codes for the bird ... which, of course, is not publicly known. We were picking up chatter from a little corner of the world that China controls. Apparently this ... Mission Commander Lee felt that the Chinese shouldn't have troops there."

The President gave the spook a hard look and asked, "Should they have troops there?"

"No more than we should troops in Southern Iran..." the agent said, adding with feigned respect, "...Mister President."

The two stared hard at one another. Iran -- or more specifically the conflict between it and the U.S. which had begun within days after the inauguration of Taylor's predecessor -- was a touchy subject between Taylor, his Staff, the Joint Chiefs, and the business community.

Ending Iran's closure of the Strait of Hormuz through force had dropped gas prices from their all time American high of almost $7 back down to just over five; but the then-President had loftier goals. The bombing of Tehran, followed by the invasion of Hormozgan and preceded with billions of dollars in military assistance to the UAE gave the United States control over the Strait and, essentially, control over the world economy.

For the time being, of course. Taylor had ordered the withdrawal of American Troops from Iran as part of his Inauguration speech; it had been part of his platform for office and, some said, even more of a reason he'd been elected than his economic and social platform of Making America for All Americans.

But the military and many of his fellow billionaires didn't like the idea. Controlling southern Iran had literally changed the world, making it a more secure place ... and a place to make new billions. With the Arab spring, followed by the invasion, followed by the collapse of the Iranian nuclear program, and just this past November, the opening of the Korean DMZ and the flood of aid and new business into North Korea, the world was becoming a safer place for Americans business to start new ventures and bring in big bucks.

Taylor had profited from much of this change, too, but -- in him mind -- that still didn't make it right. American men and women were dying by the dozens every month around the world so that his Black Tie group could make money ... lots of money. The CIA spook staring him down might not have agreed with him, but Taylor was bringing those brave people home and would find another way for America to remain the great nation it was.

Taylor diverted his attention from the Agent to the monitor before him again just as the Chinese NCO's tank vanished in a cloud of smoke, dust, and vapor. He mumbled, "My god... it just ... just..."

"Vaporized."

Taylor turned to see his Science and Technology Adviser wheel into the room, apologizing for being late. "Vaporized would be a good word, Mister President."

"How do they do this?" Taylor asked. "What kind of weapon would do this?"

"There are a number of ways," Hollander answered. "There are a variety of weapons in testing now ... lasers ... high energy photon streams ... even nanite delivery systems."

"Greg..." the President laughed, "Sometimes I don't know whether I'm talking to the smartest man on Earth or the smartest man on the NCC-17 Enterprise."

"1701, Howard," Greg laughed, giving his Vulcan greeting to his friend then Taylor turned to laugh at him.

"Do we have anything like this?" Taylor asked, hopefully. His Adviser answered in the positive, causing the President to smile and clarify, "Do we have anything like this now ... on some secret base, ready to be used."

"No," Hollander answered, the single word showing his resentment. "We had several programs in operation but funding ... Well, you know more about that than I do, Mister President."

"People needed homes, food, and medical care, Greg," Taylor said, defending his cuts in the programs Hollander was speaking of. "I thought that was more important at the time."

"And now...?" the spook asked.

Taylor ignored the man, turning back to watch the recording again.

After the first tank simply ceased to exist, the action stopped for a bit, then -- as crews fled from the majority of the tanks and anti-aircraft units -- the Chinese still on station begin firing wildly into the air once more.

"This goes on for a couple of minutes, Mister President," the Technician said, pressing a button and fast forwarding the show before releasing the button and saying, "Then this."

The tanks and other heavy units had been spread up and down a narrow highway, as if preparing to move to another area. All up and down the road, the still attacking units began suffering the same fate as the Unit Commander's Tank. The fight was over in less than a minutes, and after the dust and smoke cleared, charred wreckage filled the road for almost half a mile.

"The Highway of Death," Hollander said, gaining Taylor's attention. "Highway 80 ... Iraq, '91. The Iraqis were sitting ducks for the U.S. military."

The CIA Agent turned and headed for the room's exit without even so much as a by your leave from his Commander in Chief, whispering to Hollander as he passed, "Quack ... quack."

Taylor heard it, and he understood the implications. We're the ducks this time.

(OOC -- I think everyone has posted. Y'all can go on to the rest of your day or the next day if you wish. After a game day or two -- after relationships have been established between writers and characters -- we will do a time jump to about a week or two ahead.)

 

[AnotherOldGuy]

Lee monitored the first day's progress from the privacy of his own quarters. As Mission Commander, he had, of course, the best personal quarters on board the Platform. His great-nephew had described the stateroom's location best during his "Make A Wish" visit, just a month before he died from Davis Immunity Disorder: "You're on the inside of the doughnut, Uncle. Or, the outside of the doughnut hole ... depending on whether you like doughnuts, the holes, or both. I like'em both!"

Standing in the middle of his office, Lee could see the Nano-Distributer-Deconstructor reaching out above him. He'd heard a good description of the Big Girl, too; this one had come from one of the Temporarily Assigned Technicians from Science Labs International who'd been sleeping with Lee during her time working on the Platform. "Looks like a giant dildo ... always ready to fuck the first person who pisses you off, Lee."

It usually made him smile -- remembering the comment, and remembering the woman -- but right now, with the Platform reoriented to, for the first time ever, point the NDD toward Earth, all it did was make Lee consider that unless the Leaders of Earth followed his Senior Staff's recommendations, he might have to use the big cannon.

With a single spoken word, an entire wall of his quarters filled with images of what was happening down on Earth at that very moment. Some of the pictures came from the Peeping Toms -- hundreds of small satellites they'd dispatched into Low Earth Orbit within minutes of jumping -- but others came from the Twenty-Firsts' own communications, both private news and government monitoring.

Looking at the images and listening to his Aide reading reports to him, it was still a little early for Lee to decide which way thing were going to go. All over the globe, troops were both abandoning their war machines to board planes and ships for home; and also digging in for a fight. The first would be praised by Lee in an upcoming broadcast; the latter would, more likely than not, be punished by Smythe's Dark Gryphons.

Two reports exemplified current events.

General Smythe had met with one of his American counterparts and gotten very satisfactory results there. The American troops under the General had begun to pull out of their zone of occupation without question. Lee found it very interesting that the American military man had simply wanted to see the face of his own counterpart before he committed to such an act, an untimely withdrawal. It wasn't often in history that such a pull out happened.

Thousands of miles away, though, a different story of course had taken place. Smythe's airborne forces had had to annihilate an entire Chinese Armored Battalion. Ironically, in another location occupied by the People's Liberation Army, thousands of Red Army troops had destroyed or disabled their own heavy weapons, then filled trucks, buses, and even horse drawn wagons and started the long trek for home.

Lee knew there was a long way to go before he would know for sure what the score would be. He turned to his Aide and cut off her reading with, "Did you locate Ryogen?"

"No, sir," she answered. "Her Aide only said she was involved in prep's for a mission and couldn't be disturbed, even by the Commander."

Lee looked back to the screens before him and recalled the first time he'd met with Ryogen. He'd known at the time that she'd be like this, subordinate to his command. The irony was, he knew that she was probably more effective outside his control. They'd met or talked a handful of times between that first meeting and the time jump, discussing future operations; but while they'd pondered specific missions for her and her ISI cohorts to consider, Lee had always suspected there were far more ideas floating around in that pretty head than Ryogen was telling him about.

Which one is she on, Lee? he wondered. And is she helping me ... or hurting me? Regardless of which it was, he was still happy to have made her part of his Senior Staff. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Question was, when it came to Project Rejuvenation, which was she...?

 

[DeathsKnight]

General Smythe

The hour has passed, several units have asked to talk to their superiors since their communication satellites was down and they received what assistance Smythe's soldiers could give. He received word from all over the globe of huge portions of foreign based armies withdrawing, some even moved so fast that they were busy packing transport planes for the trip home, but also made very much certain not to move any of the big weapons or vehicles, apart from getting it away from their base. Others have stubbornly stayed with their weapons and most of them did not back down even after a shot from the NDG.

"Pilot patch me through."

"Rodger sir,"

Again that little click and again Smythe spoke to all soldiers across the globe,

"All military personnel, this is General Smythe, commander of the First Ground Battalion. I commend those of you who are withdrawing, you are showing a love for your planet, one which is shared by many men and woman upon the Platform. For the soldiers who have been ordered to stay at your posts, this is the last time I will give you a chance to withdraw. I will give you thirty seconds to withdraw, there is no honor in fighting against the survival of your planet, now is the time to lay down your arms and learn to plant a tree, help the Earth by withdrawing back to your home country. Initiate countdown."

A countdown started and reports came in from ground fire engaging their crafts, Smythe told everybody who reported to remain calm and keep their trigger fingers still for now, then the countdown reached zero and it was with strangely sad tone which Smythe gave the order, because those soldiers who about to die, could've been his own family and the love for his own soldiers ran deep.

"All units, engage all targets, ready NDGs and fire at will."

He leaned back into the seat of his suit and it leaned back against it's harness, there was total radio silence, there was no joy in this, he did catch a mumbled,

"Get out of there you dumb bastards."

There was no vehemence in those words, just sadness,

"I agree with you Fox Seven."

"Sorry sir, I did not intend to say that out loud."

"Don't worry kid, at least your heart is in the right place."

Radio silence followed as billions upon billions worth of war machinery got destroyed and all over the globe the death toll ran into the millions. Smythe clicked on his comm unit and selected the wavelength to Lee's private communicator.

"Sir all is going according to plan, there is some casualties, but we are trying our best to reduce that number, Operation Homeward Bound is in Tier Two."

According to the Battle Plan there was four tiers, Show Up and speak to the armies, Destroy all weaponry on foreign soil, Assist any stranded units to go home, Secure borders.

 

[AnotherOldGuy]

Lee turned away from the screens filling the wall of his quarters as Smythe's countdown reached zero and looked to the carpet, to the seal of the World Government, the host behind Project Rejuvenation. He didn't want to see what the monitors were going to show him.

The nice thing about the Platform's incredible technology was that it could show you anything you wanted to see just by muttering a few words; the sad thing about the Platform's incredible technology was that it could show you anything you wanted to see just by muttering a few words.

Lee drew a deep breath ... released it ... and started to turn back, only to see his Aide standing at the door staring at him with a concerned expression.

"It had to be done, Lee," she said softly, trying to reassure him. "You had to bring an end to all of this killing over ... over land ... over resources that should be being used for the benefit of all humankind ... not just the financial gain of a few people."

"I couldn't have given them more time," Lee said.

"No," she said without hesitation. "How much time would you have given them...? A day? A month? A year...? Do you remember that report your niece did on ... which was was it...?" When Lee made an indeterminate gesture, she continued, "An armistice was set for midnight, with the final battle line to become the final border between the two countries. And what did the two sides do...? Peace was hours away. Did they lay down their arms and wait for it? No. They threw everything they had at one another, trying to gain a few more miles ... a few more yards of territory. Thousands died for a few acres."

"And you think the Twenty-Firsts would have done that...?" he asked, not sarcastically but with true interest in her opinion.

"Yes! I think they would have killed thousands, millions just to have a better negotiating position in the future. General Smythe is a good man. He wouldn't have initiated the attack if he'd seen another way out. Warriors don't fight for war. They fight for peace. He did the right thing. You did the right thing. Now ... it's time to move on."

Lee contemplated her words before turning and speaking, "Show casualties." Suddenly, red dots began covering the globe. They indicated the presumed loss of live, based upon the information they computer could digest about the destroyed units. Some countries were free of dots; the continent of Australia, as well as that of Antarctica, were free of the indicators. And there were countries free of the dots, too; the United States, China, and much of the European Union had escaped the onslaught.

But Lee knew why this was, of course. Those three entities were the source of most of the troops that General Smythe had just wiped out. Lee looked to the numbers; between the three of them, they had lost close to a million men and women. Of course, the numbers were only an estimate; it was likely that the numbers would turn out to be smaller. And of course, they'd only been about half the casualties. It simply amazed Lee at how many countries had troops fighting in other countries. Madness. Pure madness.

 

[DeathsKnight]

John Walker

"John John come in, over."

John sighed and walked over to his Jeep parked a way back, he reached in and pulled out the radio's mouthpiece,

"Hotel Quebec this is Delta seven standing by, over."

He had told Suzie their radio operator and basically receptionist countless times how to use the radio, but she just refused to listen, so he kept his irritation to himself and just carried on.

"Did you hear the news?"

John frowned,

"I have no reception up here HQ, over"

"We are being invaded by aliens!"

John chuckled at her words, vivid imagination indeed,

"I see, well I will be down in ten hours, I'm tracking a doe who seems lame, she has a calf with her, over."

There was a moment of silence.

"You are going to do that? We are being invaded John...we need you down here!"

"Sorry Suzie, I'm getting paid to help animals, not shoot at extra terrestrials, Delta seven out."

He switched off his radio and walked back to the trial, he could see that the mother was favouring her righ hind leg and he followed the trial higher up through the brush, shifting his rifle into a better position.

 

[emipet]

Jenna waited, all dressed and no where to go, as the last bits of other operations were still on. Even the Electro-Mechanical shops were for once ahead of the repairs and diagnostics so she found her favorite quiet corner and curled up with the novel, avidly absorbing the lurid prose and imagining herself in the role of the heroine.

With a small yip of self-directed anger, she put the book back in her thigh pocket and ran back to her quarters for the 'earphones' and microcomp, specially remanufactured to look like a iPhone of the early 21st century and plugged in the devil device to hone her Japanese. She walked back slowly muttering the phrases as the lessons were directly input into her memory.

She passed many of the other technicians on the way back to the launch bay and each one she passed made her subconciously shy away from them. She was the shortest crewman actually on the roster and a lottery winner on top of this. A few of the less tactful techs even started to jibe her about her size. 'Does you Mama know you aren't at home and in bed, little girl?' being the one that hurt her the worse. She really missed Mother and home and had even considered just ignoring the mission, until her mother sat her down and talked with her the night before she left for the ship.

She distractly wiped a stray tear from her eye and sat back in her corner and read some more of "Hearts Journey into Love".