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

[MarieDavisRPs]

The White House

Dick Connors stormed out of the Oval Office past Kimmie, who'd been sitting in the hallway for God knows how long; waiting to again sit and speak with President Dean. Finally, Allison herself popped out into the hallway, looked to Kimmie, and said, "Miss Lang, why didn't you come back inside."

Once again in the Oval, Kimmie asked, "Was that Ambassador Connors I saw?"

Allison chuckled, answering, "Former Ambassador."

"Why former?" Kimmie asked.

Allison started at the young thing a moment, then asked, "Really? Haven't you been watching the news today?"

"No, ma'am, I've been sleeping," Kimmie answered. POTUS's expression said she didn't understand that. "I was in the South Pacific when they told me I was coming here. They put me on a plane, I fell asleep, and I woke up in, of all places, Norfolk, Virginia."

Allison started, "You know about--"

"The alien queen, yeah," she responded, quickly adding, "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you ... Madam President."

Allison waved off the apology. "No worries. Do they still say that?"

Kimmie laughed. "Not since I was born, I think. So, back to the aliens ... what did I miss?"

POTUS smiled wide at the young thing, then said, "Follow me." Allison headed for the French-style doors that led out onto what was officially called the Oval Office Corridor but what she herself just called the patio. The Secret Service Agent outside the door opened it, greeting both POTUS and Kimmie by name.

"This is what you missed," Allison said as she waved toward the Yallan Transport Vessel parked on the South Lawn.

Kimmie was shocked, her eyes widening and mouth falling open. "Where the hell did that come from? I ... I didn't hear it land."

"No one did," Allison said, "Not really. It landed with about the same noise level of a Prius, which -- if you've ever driven one -- isn't much. It doesn't use engines like what ... well ... honestly, I don't know how it works, but it was like magic, just settling down there without barely ruffling the flowers or leaves."

As they watched, Richard Connors hurried across the lawn to and into the YTV; someone had called it that, and it had already stuck. Kimmie asked, "Him? He gets to ride in it...? Fly in it?"

"Yeah, sometimes life just isn't fair," Allison agreed. She raised her gaze, smiled, and said, "You're boyfriend is here."

Looking into the distance, they could see the Marine helo approaching. Allison gestured one of the Agents to her, saying, "Please escort Miss Lang down to meet Petty Officer Samson."

It took a full minute for Kimmie to navigate through the White House to reach the exterior. By the time she got there, the alien ship was rising into the air; Allison had been correct about the ship as it rose without hardly any effect on the surroundings. Soon, the whole world would learn that the YTV's utilized gravity manipulation to land and takeoff, after which that technology worked hand-in-hand with the ship's fusion-powered main engines to propel them through either space or atmospheres.

In its place landed the helicopter, and as the steps lowered to reveal Brock, Kimmie walked, then ran out to meet him on the South Lawn. Not unsurprisingly, Rocket reached Kimmie first yet again, greeting her excitedly. When Brock reached her, Kimmie giggled, gestured to the building behind them, and exclaimed, "Can you believe this?"

 

[desperado1089]

The White House

"No, but I know for a fact that with you by my side, I'll be unstoppable!" He pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss all of a sudden, not caring who was watching as he just couldn't stand to spend another moment without doing that.

Rocket, meanwhile, promptly lifted his leg on a piece of debris from the demolition of the half-finished ballroom that the current President's predecessor had the audacity to build in place of the East Wing. Not long after, POTUS's own canine companion came out and the two of them promptly started to play.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Bermuda
On the way to their hotel:

(OOC: I thought they'd already reached the cab, so that's the way I wrote it.)

"My dear Florence, if taking the proverbial reins is what you need to do," Arno told her, "Then that is what you shall do."

She peeked at him sitting next to her in the taxi, then looked away out the window as yet another blush flooded her face. Florence was in a situation that she would never in a million years have expected herself to be in: she was about to have sex for only the third time in her life with a man she'd known barely more than a day, and he was going to let her be in charge of what happened between them.

How the hell did I get here? she wondered. It wasn't that she didn't want to be here, of course; as the reality and drama of the new world order caused her anxiety to rise and rise, Florence suddenly found herself desperately wanting to feel something real and dramatic that just about her! There was no doubt what that was, of course: having a good, gentle, chivalrous man inside her.

Florence looked to Arno again, studying him as he asked if she was always going to want to be in charge. "I would just like to know what to expect."

"No," she answered simply, again looking away nervously. She considered her answer a moment, but as she was beginning to answer more clearly, she looked forward and caught the taxi driver peeking back at them in the mirror. Leaning closer to Arno, Florence whispered, "Can we talk about this when we get there?"

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

The White House

After Kimmie had asked Brock if he could begin to believe that they were together at the White House, he pulled her in for a passionate kiss after saying, "No, but I know for a fact that with you by my side, I'll be unstoppable!"

She was caught off guard and surprised at first; they were, after all, on the White House's South Lawn, surrounded by Secret Service, Marines, and -- quite possibly -- being watched by the President of the Frickin' United States of America. But the feel of Brock's arms around her again and his warm, wet lips upon hers took Kimmie back to much happier times; her arms wrapped around the much taller man's neck, pulling not just her face tighter to his but her feet off the ground as well.

They only finally broke off their embrace when the Secret Service Agent who'd escorted Brock from Norfolk tapped him on the shoulder, informing the two of them, "POTUS is coming. You wanna knock this off?"

Kimmie couldn't help but giggle wildly as she released her hold on her former and soon-to-once-again-be lover and found the ground with her feet again. She didn't want to pull away from Brock but did, turning to find Rocket and a second canine running about the South Lawn while Allison Dean first waved to them friendly, then waved them to join her at the building's entrance.

As they headed that way, Kimmie wrapped both of her arms around Brock's torso, resulting in an awkward walk until she finally withdrew from him to simply hold his hand. Then, hoping that the Marine helicopter's reducing noise was still enough to hide her words from others, Kimmie told Brock about POTUS, "She's letting us stay in the Lincoln Bedroom. The Lincoln Bedroom!"

She wanted to say explicitly we're gonna fuck in the Lincoln Bedroom, but Kimmie was pretty sure Brock understood that that was on the agenda. Reaching POTUS, Allison offered out her hand, saying, Petty Officer Joe Samson, it's so good to meet you."

Allison had presumed that a salute would be incorporated into their greeting, either before or after the handshake. She didn't return it as had a handful of her POTUS predecessors, though, smiling to Brock and explaining, "My grandfather was a Seadog, an old sailor had beat it into me that one did not salute while without their cover. Please, don't be offended."

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

(OOC: This continues from clear back on the previous page, here.)


Bermuda
Earl Cameron Theater
UN Security Council Summit

"For we are all friends today ... and tomorrow."

The Human Ambassadors responded to Anya's blessing in their own ways, leading her to suggest, "We ... Yallans and Humans ... have many things to discuss ... details to be shared and plans to be made. Additionally, your Peoples from around the world seem to wish to take a moment and celebrate..."

Again, as had happened before when Anya wanted the Ambassadors and the people of Earth to know how the planets of 48 Areetus appeared, a very large bubble surrounded the Security Council members. This time, it showed scenes from around the world where gatherings of people -- sometimes in scores, other times in the thousands -- were celebrating the vote for peace just passed by the Security Council members; a scene from each of these Ambassadors' home countries appeared nearest them, with familiar landmarks to firmly identify who the celebrating people were.

"This joy is not being felt in only your five States, though," Anya told them.

The images began fading into other lands, most of them with landmarks or other backgrounds, clothing styles, etc., that identified them as the specific country or, at the least, the region of the world. By the time the bubble faded away, it seemed clear that people from every corner of the world was happy with what had just taken place.

"I suggest that we meet again here tomorrow," Anya said, "to begin ... I think the word is hashing out the details...?" She got a couple of head nods, a thumbs up, and a chuckle before continuing, "I will have several of my Supervisors and their most involved Aides transported down to speak with you in more detail. Then, once we have a clear direction, we can get to work, matching my experts with your experts ... to begin our work."

One after another, Anya would share her farewell blessing -- interlaced fingers before her, bowed head, and the untranslated Peace be among friends -- with each of the Ambassadors and, if they offered a hand first, shake with them the Human way as well.

Russia's Ambassador, Vasily Alekseyevich Nebenzya, was the last of the UN rep's to come face to face with Anya; as with some of the other Ambassadors -- Chloe Marie Dubois and Fan Yue in particular -- Vasily repeated the Yalla farewell, even making his best attempt at repeated the words she'd spoken. Anya chuckled, telling him, "That was fairly close, Ambassador. I appreciate the attempt."

Respectfully, she offered her hand out to him first, then asked softly, "Is there something which you needed to discuss with me, Ambassador? I ... sense unease in you. And ... before you respond, let me assure you that this conversation between the two of us is private. The rest of the world ... not even the Ambassadors currently speaking with one another about the good you have done here today ... can hear this conversation."

Reassured by Anya, Vasily explained, "My vote, while the correct thing to do ... for the People of Russia ... and for the people of the world ... it will leave me unpopular with the President of my country."

"I know of Vladimir Putin," Anya responded simply without emotion signaling what she might have thought of him personally. "How can I help you, Ambassador?"

"You can eliminate him," Vasily said without hesitation. "I ... I don't necessarily mean kill. I simply mean ... remove him from office ... from power. Can you do that...? Do you have the capability?"

"I do, Ambassador," she responded as he had, without hesitation. Then she added, "But I will not. It is not my place to exact ... what do you call it, regime change?" She could see the concern -- fear even -- in his face and body language. Then, smiling a bit, she offered, "But I can provide you with the information you need to do this yourself ... if you wish to take on this responsibility."

"I do," he told her. "I do very much."

Anya repeated her traditional farewell gesture and words, adding before they went their separate ways, "I will send someone to you lodging tonight ... to hash out the details. You have only to turn on your satellite phone and speak into it I am alone and ready to speak, and my Representative will appear. You should be alone, however, without the threat of interruption."

"I will make this happen, Queen Anya," he said, repeating her Yallan farewell before smiling happily and going to join his Ambassadors.

Anya moved to a portion of the theater's stage away from the others where she was suddenly surrounded by another large, transparent bubble through which they could see her again repeating her Yallan gesture. And then, in a blinding flash, she was gone.

 

[desperado1089]

Brock and Kimmie

Brock didn't get hung up on the lack of salute. "Well, did your grandfather also tell you that we don't typically salute while out of uniform?", he quipped, shaking the hand of his Commander-in-Chief. The way that Kimmie had spoken before POTUS had emerged had a profound effect on the general appearance of the front of his jeans, and he shifted slightly to make it less obvious. "So, I believe you had something for my girlfriend and I?", he asked, figuring that was the best way to address at least one reason he was here without directly mentioning sex.

Arno and Florence

(OOC: There was a mix-up with my writing partner on the last post she wrote for Florence; to clarify, they are currently in the elevator on their way up to his room.)

As they rode up in the elevator, Arno tilted his head quizzically, but then he glanced up to the camera in the ceiling of the elevator. "Ah. Oui. Of course, ma cherie. Say no more." He continued to hold her for the rest of the elevator ride, and when the doors opened, he practically carried her to his room, he held her so closely, as if never wanting to let her go.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

The White House

After getting her Dog Handler -- whose real title was Secret Service Special Agent -- to take responsibility for Rocket, Allison Dean lead Kimmie and Brock back to the Oval Office for their chat. Her Chief of Staff wanted to attend, but POTUS told him to sit this one out.

"I'm going to get right to it," she told them once they were alone. "I need each of you to join my team."

"What team?" Kimmie asked before then apologizing, "Sorry, Madame President. I didn't mean to interrupt. But, I thought I was returning to the US for a job as an Astrobiologist at NASA."

"This is better," Allison said. "I'm going to tell you something of which only a handful of people in the whole world are aware. I am in direct, one-to-one contact with the alien leader, Queen Anya."

The use of the world Queen piqued Kimmie's interest, causing her to sit up higher and smile. She had always had what some others called an unhealthy infatuation with the concept of royalty. From Princess Chimi Yangzom Wangchuck of Bhutan to Mette-Marit Tjessem Hoibyh of Norway to Ariana Austin Makonnen of Ethiopia, Kimmie had tracked their lives and careers obsessively since she herself was wearing her own crown while holding High Tea with her faithful subjects: Blue Bear, Geri Giraffe, One-Eyed Wanda -- whose name change from simply Wanda has come about after her brother's puppy had gotten a hold of the doll -- and others.

"Down in the Situation Room is a communications device that was provided to us secretly by Queen Anya," POTUS continued. "I made it clear to ... I'm just going to call her Anya, if no one minds ... I made it clear to Anya that the United States needed its true leader, its President, more involved in what I guess we are calling interstellar affairs."

What Allison didn't explain to the pair was that she hadn't actually been talking directly to Anya on this topic; what had actually happened was that a cell phone in the pocket of one of Allison's Aides -- despite being turned off -- was being monitored by the Yallan's advanced AI, then by an actually flesh-and-blood Yallan, and had led to Anya contacting Allison about direct communications.

What she also didn't tell them was that Anya's first polite demand was that the US's Ambassador to the UN, Julius Freeman, would continue to be the public face of Yallan-American negotiations. Allison hadn't been happy about that, but -- given no other choice -- she'd accepted it.

"Anya has informed me," Allison continued, smiling at using the word me as it made her feel special, "that she would like Americans to be part of a team going out to investigate these planets about which she and the Ambassadors have been speaking ... um..."
Kimmie chimed in, "48 Areetus ... Madam President."

"Yes, of course," she agreed, clarifying, "Areetus Three and Four. I asked around ... or, actually, my people asked around for the name of a scientist, an Astrobiologist, I'm told they're called."

Again, Kimmie sat taller, proud to hear someone as important as the President of the United States of America speaking that word. Allison continued, "They gave me a handful of names, telling me they were all pretty much the same with regard to their education and experience..."

For the first time, Allison -- the first POTUS who had a pair of them herself -- let her gaze drop to Kimmie's generous, D-cups bosom before looking back up to say, "But then I was shown a picture of you, Kimberly--"

"Kimmie," the younger beauty cut in, adding, "Please, Madam President."

"Kimmie, you're just what the women of this country, of this world need right now," Allison continued. "A scientist ... a female scientist ... a beautiful and smart female scientist ... at the fore front of a great new adventure. Little girls around the globe are gonna love you."

She could have added that once Kimmie's image made the Press, boys and men around the world would also be pounding their meat to fantasies about her, too, but she kept that to herself.
Kimmie glanced to the man sitting beside her, then back to POTUS. Tentatively, she asked, "About Brock...?"

What Kimmie had actually been wanting to ask Allison was whether or not she and Brock were still scheduled for some one-on/in-one time in the Lincoln Bedroom. Kimmie was surprisingly unbothered about POTUS knowing that she was badly in need of being fucked by her boyfriend-again.

Allison misunderstood Kimmie and looked to the man, saying, "Yes, Brock. Is it okay if I call you that...? I want you to be part of the team that goes to Areetus. I'm already ... we'll, my people ... the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, in fact, is in contact with your CO. They are putting together a team -- Anya has suggested it be international, though she agreed to send our people to one planet, Areetus III, and other countries' teams to other planets -- and you're on it."

Allison looked between the two, asking, "So, what do you think?"

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

At their Bermuda Hotel

Florence remembered conversations her older, female, sexually experienced friends and family members had had about the best place to take a man for a one-night-stand: your home, his home, or a brutal place, such as a hotel. Even though she hoped this wasn't going to be a one-night-stand, Florence knew that today's answer was hotel, still leaving the question, her room or his.

The latter, of course, meant that she could easily make a quick exit if things didn't feel right; the former meant that she had to actually ask Arno to leave if needed and hoped he complied. In the end, Florence chose her room, hoping for the best and -- if it turned out to be the worst -- hoping Arno continued to be a gentleman.

Inside, she offered him refreshment from the mini fridge, taking a small, low-alcohol, wine spritzer for herself and nervously sucking down half of it in two gulps. She set it aside, walked to the back doors, and pulled them open to let a rush of wonderful, salty air wash over her.

Turning her back to the sea, Florence held out a hand, invitingly asking, "Do you think ... you know ... maybe ... maybe we could kiss a bit?"

 

[desperado1089]

Washington DC, The White House
7 January 2031, 1545 (3:45 PM)
Brock looked to POTUS and was frankly stunned at the whole situation. "Madam President, it would be my honor and my privilege to be one of the first human beings to set foot on a completely alien planet. I feel almost like one of those SG team guys, although Hayes would probably be our version of O'Neill. Or maybe Warrant Officer Forman." His hand snaked around Kimmie's waist and he squeezed her hip possessively. "Of course, our team already has its own sexy little version of Dr. Jackson, doesn't it, Kimmie?" His thumb found some bare skin and rubbed it softly as he addressed POTUS once more. "Obviously, we'll need devices to ensure the atmosphere is breathable. Are we going in with full space suits, or are we trusting that there won't be empty space waiting for us on the other side?" He seemed to be thinking of the logistics and even though he knew that he and POTUS wouldn't need to discuss those details, he wanted to prolong the conversation a bit to tease Kimmie and get her nice and needy for him.

Bermuda, The Loren at Pink Beach Hotel
7 January 2031, 4:45 PM

Arno smiled and nodded in agreement to Florence's request. "Of course we can, ma cherie. I will never pressure you, I will never hurt you, and if you need space, it is yours, although I would rather your preferred distance between us be measured in microns, not meters." He stood up and crossed the room to stand near her, taking her hand and beginning their slow, intimate dance by kissing her knuckles with exceeding gentleness. "Do you mean a kiss like that?", he asked, a teasing twinkle in his eyes.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Washington DC, The White House
7 January 2031, 1545 (3:45 PM)

When Brock made his Stargate reference to her being the sexy little version of Dr. Jackson, Kimmie's face exploded in a blush, followed by a giggle; she flinched softly at the feel of Brock's thumb tip caressing her skin in a gap between her blouse and pants, worrying that POTUS could see what he was doing.

"Obviously, we'll need devices to ensure the atmosphere is breathable," Brock said.

"Anya has offered to supply everything we need at the site," Allison informed him. "I guess there's some sort of ... energy and matter concern about what can be teleported that distance."

"Are we going in with full space suits?" Brock asked, wondering about what may or may not be at the end of the voyage for them.

"Suits, I'm told," Allison continued. "I don't know all the details, of course. That's why I have people, as I've mentioned. But my understanding is that you suit up here ... Anya activates one of those Glenda-the-Good-Witch bubbles around you ... and a little while later, you're there ... Areetus III. Almost like magic."

"It is magic," Kimmie mused. When Allison looked to her, she launched into a short little lecture about some of the technologies and inventions that -- when they'd first been introduced -- those who didn't understand them thought were magic. "This transport bubble of Queen Anya's is just advanced technology to them, but to us ... it's magic."

Allison smiled wider, saying, "I like you, Kimmie. I like the way you think. You're going to make one helluvan impression upon the world when they get to know you better."

Saying that and seeing how Brock had his arm intimately around the beauty, Allison knew that someone else wanted to get to know the young woman better right now. She stood, saying, "Listen, I know you're probably both exhausted. Kimmie, I'm told you flew all the way in from the South Pacific, yes...?"

Allison knew that, of course, because Kimmie had told her earlier. Looking to Brock, she said, "And I heard you flew in from God knows where in the word--" She raised a finger to her lips, whispering, "Classified." She led them toward the exit of the Oval, saying as she opened the door and gestured for the appropriate Secret Service Agent to escort them, "I've had the Queen's Bedroom and the Lincoln Bedroom made available for you."

She glanced to Kimmie and winked, knowing that the two of them were going to end up in one and only one of the rooms. "This agent will show you the way. I have a full schedule the rest of the evening, so why don't we plan on meeting in my private dining room in the morning, say 6 am, for breakfast. In the meantime, you have the run of the White House, per se; you won't need Secret Service escort, but if you try to enter a portion of the residence that's restricted, they'll let you know--" She looked to the Agent, finishing, "--hopefully without shooting you first."

The man smiled, confirming, "We do our best with your guests, Madam President."



Bermuda, The Loren at Pink Beach Hotel
7 January 2031, 4:45 PM

Arno again reassured Florence that he would put no pressure on her, then joined her on the balcony for a kiss upon her hand that led to a kiss upon her lips that began soft and sweet and soon -- with her encouragement -- became more intimate and passionate. She wrapped her arms around his torso and pulled him close to her, even gently thrusting out her groin in an effort to feel him against it.

Suddenly, Florence felt a bit self-conscious performing a PDA on the hotel balcony. She looked left and right, then whispered, "Let's go back inside." They passed through the doors and could have stopped once they were in privacy, but after slowing their progress for a moment, Florence continued onward, leading Arno through the suite to the bedroom.

She released his hand there, then stepped away from him, putting him well out of arms reach. Florence took a moment to look him up and down, then smiled sheepishly and asked, "Remember the first time I saw you...? Out on the balcony?"

She was hinting about his nudity, hoping that he would begin undressing without her actually having to ask him to do so. Florence was trembling deep in her core, still anxious about what was ahead of her, despite wanting it so badly.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

(OOC: This is a recap of an earlier conversation, leading into new stuff.)

Bermuda
Earl Cameron Theater
UN Security Council Summit

Russia's Ambassador, Vasily Alekseyevich Nebenzya, was the last of the UN rep's to come face to face with Anya. He spoke of President Vladimir Putin and the need for him to be eliminated. She told him she understood; she told him she had the capability to do it; and then she told him that she wouldn't do it.

"It is not my place to exact what do you call regime change?" she told him. "But I can provide you with the information you need to do this yourself ... if you wish to take on this responsibility."

"I do," he told her. "I do very much."

Later, in his The Loren at Pink Beach Hotel suite:

Vasily pulled out his cell phone, turned it on, and spoke the words Anya had left him with, "I am alone and ready to speak."

A few anxious seconds passed, and one of Anya's teleportation bubbles appeared, first as a mere but super bright point of light, then as a growing sphere. When it vanished, a Yallan female was left before Vasily.

She wore a less dramatic version of the Queen's wardrobe and head/face decorations. She was even more slight than the already tiny Anya: an inch shorter, an inch less in each of the three typical body measurements, but with slightly larger breasts that pushed together even more conspicuously than did the Queen's.

She performed Anya's hand gestures, spoke the Yallan words that were as much a greeting as a farewell, and explained, "I am Byna, Diplomatic Representative of Queen Anya. I am here to provide you with any information you need to complete your task, Ambassador."

 

[desperado1089]

Washington DC, The White House
7 January 2031, 1555 (3:55 PM)
When Kimmie launched into her brief lecture about magic, he nodded along. "I think Asimov first brought that up, at least famously. Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. But as for the devices for determining atmospheric breathability, are we certain we are willing to put our trust in the Yallans? Granted, they haven't really given us reason to think they're hostile, but they did completely neuter all of our aerial defenses, even those that aren't capable of achieving orbit. Usually, in all the stories, that's a prelude to invasion. Remember that one show, with Morena Baccarin? Not Stargate, another one, can't remember the name off the top of my head. The aliens came all peaceful like, but instead of steamrollering over us all, they used other, more underhanded means."

Whatever POTUS had to say on that or not, he also chuckled when she said that his last mission had been classified. "I mean, if anyone has clearance, it's you, Madam President. But I appreciate your adherence to OPSEC." Brock got up and when the matter of being shot was joked about, he instinctively pulled Kimmie against him a little tighter, flashing the agent a rather dangerous look that suggested that any attempts to hurt Kimmie would be hazardous to the health of the agent involved. This all happened in the space of a second or two, and when it was time to head upstairs, he was the picture of calm. "Don't forget what I said, Madam President. We should come up with our own device for that." Hopefully, it was vague enough that anyone overhearing didn't have enough information to go by.

Bermuda, The Loren at Pink Beach Hotel
7 January 2031, 4:55 PM
With a mischievous smirk, Arno immediately understood what Florence meant and decided to mess with her a bit by stretching long and languidly, as if he had all the time in the world. Next he stepped out of his shoes, and, as if putting off getting naked as long as possible, took his watch off and set it on a nearby table. Only then did he unbuckle his belt...only to pull it free of the pants he was wearing, a wicked grin on his face. He pulled off his socks afterwards, but since he was now out of ways to tease her, he pulled his shirt out of the waistband of his pants and pulled it over his head.

The Loren at Pink Beach Hotel
Ambassador Nebenzya's Suite
"Da, da. As you know, the man that we both speak of, he rules through fear, intimidation. Like a crime boss. If it is information you can provide, I want secrets about him that are impossible to ignore, plastered all over state media with no way for them to remove it. I want the locations of his secret prisons so that the families of those who have spoken out can be freed. And I want to know where he is hiding! He is not in Kremlin, has secret private refuge, went there when this all began. Like Mar-a-Lago but in a bunker, the coward." Nebenzya turned to the side and spat into a garbage can, to demonstrate what he thought of that.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Washington DC, The White House
7 January 2031, ~1600 (~4pm)

When Brock mentioned Morena Baccarin in an alien invasion story but couldn't recall the name, Kimmie interrupted, "'V' ... like the letter ... after 'U' but before 'W'. It stood for the Visitors." She giggled at the look from POTUS, explaining, "My father and I used to watch it together. You know, it was a remake ... and the woman who played the alien queen in the original played the mother of the queen in the remake, Morena Baccarin. Cool, huh?"

Brock continued with his concerns, leading Kimmie to say with a hopeful tone, "I don't think they're like that. I mean, sure, I've only just seen Anya on my phone's screen, but I watched some of the UN Summit in Bermuda, and she seemed pretty honest to me." She went silent, then shrugged, finishing, "Just saying."

Her former/future lover asked about the tech' that would be used by him and the members of his team -- which Anya believed also included her. Kimmie stressed, "And I have a lot of gear myself, for analyzing the soil, air, water if there is any--"

"Anya assures me that there is," POTUS cut in. "Her description at the Summit and the images she provided showed water, but I was also sure to ask when I talked to her one-on-one, telling her that water was, of course, the most important thing to the success of a Human mission to Areetus III."

"Good, well, then I'll need my equipment," Kimmie continued. "I'll send some emails as soon as we're done here to my former colleagues at University, asking if they can make the equipment available ASAP."

Finally, Kimmie and Brock got away from the Oval Office to be led to the side-by-side bedrooms that Allison had made available to them. The Agent told Kimmie, "President Dean has dispatched a team to your apartment in Cambridge to collect whatever you think you might need for the next few days, Miss Land."

"What?" she asked with obvious surprise.

The Agent was looking at his watch as he said, "They should be there by now and should be calling any moment to have you walk them through your list."

"Wait, what?" she again showed her surprise. The Agent explained that POTUS was expecting Kimmie and Brock to be here at least a couple of days, and that knowing that the former had flown directly to DC from the South Pacific, she might need a few necessities and/or luxuries. "How are they getting into my apartment? I mean, they don't have a key ... do they?"

The Agent only smiled wide, then asked, "To which bedroom should I have the call directed, Miss Lang?"

"The Queen's Bedroom," she said quickly, before looking to Brock with a smile. He already knew her obsession with the Royals of the world, so it shouldn't have surprised him in the least. She gestured Brock toward the Lincoln bedroom, giving him a playful little push before saying, "You go put your stuff in stuffy of Lincoln's room."

She felt she didn't need to tell him to then get his butt to the Queen's Bedroom for a badly needed reunion.

Kimmie had barely finished her walk around the bedroom and the unbelievable ensuite when the phone rang. She leapt onto the bed, bouncing across to reach the phone, asking playfully, "Who is it?"

A female Secret Service Agent introduced herself, refreshed Kimmie on her purpose for being inside her apartment, then asked, "What can I bring you, Miss Lang, and where will I find it?"

The two of them spend over a half an hour going down a list of things Kimmie wanted. She named most of them herself, but with the Agent being a woman and being on site with the ability to see things that might have been out of sight, out of mind for Kimmie, she named some options as well.

During the conversation, Kimmie had kicked off her shoes and laid on her back. She was hoping that Brock would show up earlier and not later, even if she wasn't done with the conversation. She couldn't wait to have his hands and mouth upon her.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Bermuda, The Loren at Pink Beach Hotel
7 January 2031, 4:55 PM

"Oh-my-God-oh-my-God-oh-my-God," Florence said with such quickness that each word sounded like a syllable of one long, silly word from some children's show character. She was trembling deep down with anxious impatience as she watched Arno removing his clothes ... or not, as it was beginning to seem. "Just ... get there already."

She took a quick step forward with the intention of helping him strip, eager to see him nude again though this time from much closer than her 60-foot viewing yesterday. But she caught herself, stopping still a couple of yards short of Arno; she drew, held, and then slowly released a calming breath before softly saying, "Please ... Arno ... I can't take much more of this. I need to ... I need to see you."

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

The Loren at Pink Beach Hotel
Ambassador Vasily Alekseyevich Nebenzya's Suite

Byna listened to Vasily's request for information on his boss, Vladimir Putin, then nodded her acknowledgement. Politely, she said, "Please allow that information to be compiled, Ambassador."

She stepped closer to a nearby table, set a small device upon it, and pressed her fingertip upon its flat surface. A three-dimensional, holographic, Google Earth-like image of Earth about two-feet in diameter appeared above the device. Initially, it focused on the Atlantic Ocean, which -- of course -- surrounded Byna and Vasily's current location, Bermuda.

But then the image spun to reveal Asia, giving way to the darkness and then zooming in closer and closer and closer until finally closing in on Gelendzhik in the Krasnodar Krai region of Russia, due east of the still-occupied Crimean Peninsula. The darkness gave way to an odd sort of illumination, which Byna explained simply as, "To allow you to see what the darkness would prevent."

A large, Italianate-style structure -- the largest building in the image -- appeared off to one side of the hologram which was slowly beginning to flatten out to appear more map-like than globe-like. Vasily would obviously recognize the structure and the complex surrounding it as what people called Putin's Palace.

Yet as the image continued to zoom in, the Palace disappeared off to one side and a second, smaller, yet still beautiful and luxurious structure appeared. And, as the image continued to zoom, turning and twisting as if coming from some high-tech drone flying closer and closer and then -- seeming to pass through the glass of a large door and wander about the home's interior -- there was Vladimir Putin, sitting in a hot tub with two beautiful and much younger women sandwiching him as they took turns kissing him.

The image finally froze on the scene -- it had returned to a three-dimensional view again and enlarged to reveal the guards standing outside the Jacuzzi room -- and Byna said in a matter-of-fact tone, "This is your country's leader, yes?"

Before Vasily could answer, a third female came bursting upwards out of the water from over top of Putin's lower half, gasping for air; all three women and their President, too, began laughing, and the drowning woman traded places with one of the others and she took her turn underwater pleasuring Putin's cock with her mouth.

Once Vasily had said what he wished, Byna explained, "This device is yours to use, Ambassador. It will respond to your requests in your language ... to your voice alone. It will help you and your people take President Putin into custody, as well as any high ranking official who continues to publicly profess his or her support of the President."

Byna looked to Vasily and -- with a tone that wasn't much harsher than a kind-hearted kindergarten teacher chastising a child for leaving a crayon out in the sunlight -- explained, "I have been instructed by my Queen to inform you that this device is not to be used to conduct what you would call a Witch Hunt. Arrest and detain the individuals who would continue to present a threat to the future of the Russian People and, likely, the People of the world beyond Russia, then cease use of the device for that purpose and move on to your other goals."

She spoke a word toward the device and a two-dimensional image of text in Vasily's language appeared in Yallan, then was quickly translated into Russian. "This is the list of the prisons and other locations where people are being held illegally by President Putin and his administration.

"This is a list of what you call Oligarchs," Byna continued as the list changed, "and where they are currently located." To the right were location names; only half of the men and women were in Russian, with the others spread across the globe, some of them even at sea on their luxury yachts. "The locations and amounts of their money are listed as well, should you find it appropriate to seize these funds use for the future of your People. Included, as with President Putin, are detailed explanations of who they earned their money and whom they hurt in the process of collecting it."

The hologram vanished, and as Byna handed the device to Vasily she explained, "Queen Anya hopes that you will use this to the benefit of your people."

She paused a moment, studying him; this was the first time she'd ever been on Earth, let alone in such close proximity to a Human Being. The similarities between Vasily's species and her own were obvious: one head, two arms, two legs; what he would call Humanoid in shape but she, obviously, would not. Additionally, and obviously, Vasily had the male features of a Human Being: broader chest than the female, a lack of breasts like the female, and -- from her education about Human Beings and their anatomy -- an organ meant for the purposes of pleasure and reproduction that dangled before his groin whereas the female equivalent was an entrance located in roughly the same location of the body.

This, too, was a similarity between Yallans and Humans. Byna's race included penises and testicles for the males and vaginas and all their associated parts, as well as breasts for feeding their newborns, obviously. The way that those things functioned, though, was different in some respects, and it was those differences -- or, more specifically, Byna's interest in them -- that led her to ask, "Ambassador, would you be agreeable to the two of us working more closely together as you work for the future of your People. I can make myself available to you at almost any hour of any day--"

She gestured off to where she'd appeared in the Glenda the Good Witch bubble as if it were still there to be seen, and added, "All you would need to do is make a request for my appearance by speaking my name into the device ... Byna."

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

(OOC: This post occurs 1 day ahead in the timeline. I wanted to post it without having to wait for the multi-post sex scenes to be concluded.)

Washington DC, The White House
Day 3 -- 8 January 2031, 5pm

President Allison Dean sat in the Oval Office catching up on events taking place around the United States and, to a lesser degree, the world. She was amazed at the effects the alien arrival was having on the people of Earth. Even before the Summit had begun yesterday in Bermuda -- one day after Anya's first appearance -- angry protests had broken out across the world, mostly in the largest urban areas. Here in the US, police were on full alert just about everywhere, and the National Guard had been called out in the vast majority of US States.

But then something unexpected begun happening that simply amazed Allison. Individual people by the tens of millions began getting personalized messages -- by text, by email, even through the televisions in their living rooms -- asking them not to fear the Yallans. With these messages came what the Press had already given a name: ETBs or Extra-Terrestrial Benefits."

"They paid off my mortgage!" an excited woman told a reporter, pointing to the screen on her smart phone that showed a zero balance on her bank's App.

"They're fixing my son's kidney!" another woman told another reporter. "He's been on dialysis and the transplant list for three years. I got a text today saying they're setting up a transplant center, and Ricky's--" She suddenly choked up, unable to finish as tears erupted. The girl standing with her finished for her mother, "My brother's going up to the Mother ship! They're fixing his kidney ... up there ... in space!"

Allison shook her head, asking her Chief of Staff, Parker Brown, asking, "Is this legit...? I mean, paying off mortgages...? How is she doing this. I mean, are they fucking printing money up there in that ship? It's gotta be coming from somewhere, right?"

"Yes, Madam President," Parker said as he stood to walk to her and present her with a folder. "NSA picked this up this morning."

She opened it and began reading. "Elon Musk, Mark Zuckerberg, Larry Ellison, the Arnaults ... Buffet, Page, Brin, and Balmer...? These are the richest people in the world ... or most of them anyway. I don't see..."

"Bezos ... or Amancio Ortega of Spain," Parker said, adding, "Bezos apparently turned down whatever offer Anya made him, and Ortega has been totally incommunicado since just shortly after the aliens' arrival. They would round out the current top ten richest people in the world, Madam President."

"And ... they just gave up their wealth?" Allison asked in disbelief. "What did they get in return? I mean, people like this don't just give up their personal fortunes without getting something in return."

"We don't know, Madam President," Parker admitted. "Anya ... or her people and their tech' I should say ... we were only able to determine that the money was being given over to the aliens in exchange for something. But other than that, the NSA said it was total blackout for them. The discussions about what they got in return were blocked. This was intentional, Madam President; Anya wanted us to know that these individuals and families gave up their fortunes, but she didn't want us to know what they got in return."

"Could it have been coercion?" Allison asked. "Were they threatened?"

"The Director of the NSA says no," Parker told her with a confident tone. "They were made an offer that benefited them in some way ... some way that their billions couldn't get them."

"Hold that thought," Allison said as she snatched up the remote to switch the volume to a different image on the screen.

A reporter was covering the story of the transfer of more than $2.5 trillion dollars in wealth. The reporter with the Associated Press -- a beautiful woman with wild, red hair named Florence MacDonald -- spoke of the same people and dollar amounts in the file before Allison, then added with a delighted smile, "But this transfer of wealth, of hard cold cash, doesn't stop there. The Associated Press has just learned within the last hour that three of the largest real estate venture capital organizations in the United States -- corporations that together have title to more than 250,000 homes across and even beyond the borders of the US, have negotiated an agreement with Queen Anya that will see the apartments and homes in which their clients live given to those clients ... given to those homeowners and apartment dwellers without further payment or monthly rental charges."

The view on the television switched to an executive with Invitation Homes, which owned more than 100,000 residential rental properties across the country. "We support Queen Anya's grand vision to settle other Earth-like planets with Human life," he said with a professional tone. "And to help promote this grand vision, we present this offer to our beloved rental families..."

Allision scoffed, saying mockingly, "Beloved, my ass. Over the past two decades, residential rent rates have risen 20% faster than inflation. Vultures."

The man was continuing, "We will reduce your monthly rent to just the cost of processing the payments, typically $22 per month, if a member of your family or someone else you sponsor will volunteer for the Queen's Interstellar Relocation Program, or QUIRP."

Again, Allison laughed. "Are they really calling it that...? Who came up with that, Anya?"

"No, Madam President," Parker said. "I'm told that the corporations themselves came up with that. I don't know if Anya has approved or not, but -- you have to admit -- it's catchy."

The interview continued, with the executive listing a bunch of offers and benefits designed to urge people to join QUIRP. The redheaded reporter asked, "And what do you get out of this ... you and your company? I'm sure that this offer will cost you and your stockholders millions of dollars."

"I'm not at liberty to respond to that," the man said, breaking off the interview despite a number of reporters peppering him with questions and pointed accusations. The scene went back to the live view of Florence as she said, "Well, there you have it ... Quirp ... the Queen's Interstellar Relocation Program. I spoke to Queen Anya earlier today--"

Allison literally sprang to her feet, bellowing out, "What...?!? Who the fuck is this beat reporter ... that she's interviewing the queen of the aliens ... and I haven't been able to get her on the communicator since yesterday afternoon?"

The scene cut to a taped conversation, in which Anya, the reporter, and other members of the news media, were sitting around the table that Allison recognized at the place where Anya had previous sat with the UN Security Council members.

"May I ask, Queen Anya, what it is that you are giving to people like--" Florence looked to her notebook as she listed, "Musk, Zuckerberg, Ellison, Arnault, Buffet, and the other individuals, as well as the real estate corporations that have offered to give up what is estimated to be between $2.5 and 4 billion US dollars?"

"I have offered them something that all the money in the world can't buy," Anya said with a pleasant smile. "Longer life."

"Longer life?" Florence asked. "Can you explain that for our readers and viewers?"

"Human medical knowledge and procedures have come a long way in the past hundred years," Anya explained. "But Yallan medical knowledge is far more advanced, with procedures, medicines, and treatments that can extend the life of a Human Being as much as half."

"You're offering these rich and highly privileged people," Florence said with an obviously disgruntled tone, "the added privilege of immortality?"

"Not immortality, Miss MacDonald," Anya pointed out, smiling. "A few more years ... in exchange for giving up nearly everything that they'd spend their lives accumulating to make the lives of less privileged Humans better. I think you call that a win-win."