From the Shoulders of Giants
By Za Raapini
Chapter One: What Could Possibly Go Wrong?
"This had better be good," Adam Bowers said as he walked through the halls of the Pentagon. "You know that I'm not really a big fan of the dumb shit that DARPA tries to pass off as useful." It was true. After 15 years of overseeing DARPA's budget, and getting little to no results out of them, he was beginning to wonder what use they were. But the big brass had a hard-on the size of the Great Wall for DARPA, so he rolled with the punches.
"If I were a betting man, which I am, I'd say they got something really special cooked up for us this time. Most of the time when they ain't got shit they try to spruce up their memos, but this one just said to get down to the lab," Mark Beach said, Commander of USCENTCOM. He for one loved DARPA, and the completely batshit insane things they tried to pass off as Research and Development. They really had a knack for thinking outside the box.
"Let's just get this over with," Bowers said as they rounded the corner, spotting the elevator that would take them down to R&D Lab No. 5.
"You act like you have an actual life to get back to. Just relax. They'll do their little presentation, and you can go back to pretending to be a regular human being or something," Beach said with a smirk.
As they stepped into the elevator, Bowers had to wonder if Beach had a point. After all, the memo read nothing like any other DARPA release he'd seen. Ever. GENTLEMEN: PLEASE COME TO R&D LAB NO. 5 ASAP FOR A DEMONSTRATION OF OUR LATEST INVENTION.
No indication of what the machine could do, who had commissioned it, nothing. It was lacking everything that would indicate to someone that you were reading a DARPA memo. To be perfectly honest, nobody was really expecting anything from DARPA for at least three months. They were still trying to work the kinks out of "Flying Humvees" or something or other. The memo had limited circulation too. Only Bowers, Beach, and three other people had recieved it, all three of the others being high-ranking members of the special forces community. What they would possibly need to see this demonstration for was beyond Bowers.
The elevator slowed and Bowers lifted himself out of his thoughts. Time to go ahead and see what all the fuss was about.
As he walked into the lab, Bowers and Beach noticed more that three people standing by for a demonstration. There were at least nine men waiting for a demonstration, all of whom both Bowers and Beach knew through working with several other nations' SF men. There was Brigadier General McCollumby, head of the SAS. There was Lt. General Francois, head of the French COS. General Mikhailov, commander of the GRU wing of the Spetnatz, and six other men with a lot of rank on their collar, and a lot of pull in their respective communities. Bowers was now very interested in how this little presentation would go. He guessed that the small porthole looking object in the center of the room was the recently invented device.
"Gentlemen, thank you for arriving on such short notice. Of course, what I'm about to share to you is TS/SCI level classified. Everyone has that level clearance, or the appropriate waivers have been signed for the gentlemen visiting from Abroad. What I am about to show you will change the way the Special Forces of this world, and of this alliance, conduct everything. What I am about to show you is the product of almost seven nonstop years of pride, sweat, and blood. It is a fantastic achievement for science and for the military..." the head DARPA researcher for this little project, nametag read Dr. Cintron, droned on. Already Bowers was furious with himself. How could he have let himself be fooled into thinking this would be worthwhile? He'd heard these types of speeches before and nothing ever came of them. All talk, no walk. That was all DARPA did these days, it's all they ever did, he had half a mind to call the Secretary of Defense when this was over and give him a piece of his...
"And I need you all to stand back a little as we open up the gateway to the recently discovered alternate universe..."
Wait a minute. WHAT did he just say?
"Excuse me, alternate universe? You're joking, right? Monsieur, I do not have time for silly games and fantasies," General Francois said.
"Gentlemen, I admit that what I am saying sounds preposterous, but I promise you, you will be astonished. Now please, stand back, and prepare to witness another world!" Cintron said with a flourish as he started up the machine. Lights began flashing, and the sound of electricity crackling in the air filled the room.
What the hell? I don't recall seeing this on ANY of the budget lists. Not a one. Seven years? Bowers thought to himself. It was curious. Of course, there were some things that even he wasn't allowed to know as far as DARPA projects was concerned. For now, he sat back and watched the device as it began cranking up to full power. Suddenly streaks of electricity combined in the center of the device, creating a curious swirl of energy before it expanded to fill the confines of the metal circle. There was a dark cloud, and then it finally opened up to reveal...
A very...colorful world. Intriguing, to say the least. More intriguing were the shapes they saw on the other side of the portal. Buildings, and were those...
"Horses? Is this some type of joke? You are wasting all of our time. DARPA appears to be losing their touch," Mikhailov said gruffly. Bowers was inclined to agree. He noticed Beach motioning to him, trying to get him to lean closer.
"It's a no shit gateway to another world! Think of the possibilities! It's the perfect extract plan. Send the guys in on the mission and when they're done, open a portal and come back. We'll need to get an expedition together!" Beach whispered excitedly.
At least someone here is enjoying DARPA's latest turd. This is a complete waste of time, Bowers thought to himself. He began to get depressed. While DARPA's existence was never in jeopardy, Bowers' job was. Unless DARPA shit out something useful soon, it was very likely for him to get the boot. 15 years of wasted tax dollars was simply inexcusable.
"What would it take for you to build one big enough to send a helicopter through? Or a tank? Or a bomber? Or a supply train?" McCollumby asked, his voice slightly excited. Could he be thinking just like Beach was? Bowers often admitted to himself that he was a better bean counter than tactician, so maybe he just couldn't see the full potential here.
"What would the energy requirements of a larger one be? Could it be fed by the power grid without a noticeable drop for civilians?" Francois asked. There was definitely interest. Interest was good. Interest let Bowers keep his job. Interest meant for once DARPA was getting something done.
"A larger one is possible, and with proper funding, we could get one up and running in about ten months. Existing power grid capabilities would be more than enough to handle the energy required for a larger scale device. We would have to set it up somewhere relatively uninhabited however..." Cintron trailed off.
Bowers knew where this was going. He opened his mouth to speak.
"Edwards Air Force Base should provide the ideal location for a larger scale device. Dr. Cintron, I assume you already have the list of materials necessary to construct a larger device as well as the schematics for one yes?"
"That's correct."
"We should put together a multinational SF recon group to establish a presence in the area, as well as to provide security for an expected foothold base to be built," Beach began saying.
"Detachments from Delta Force, MARSOC, the SAS, GRU Spetznatz, and COS can be drawn within the month. We'll need to get as many of them together as we can as soon as we can to begin training for this mission. I have a couple units I'll be wanting to send that are currently deployed, and we'll grab them up once they've had a chance to get some R&R in. We should also try to draw air support from the 160th SOAR, as well as 1st Marine Air Wing, and 1st Air Cav. They should be able to provide a good amount of rotary-wing platforms," Lt. General Wickers, commanding officer of SOCOM added.
"Fixed wing air will also need to be locked on. Good mix of air superiority platforms as well as multi-role aircraft. F-16s and F-15s should be good," McCollumby said.
"We should add some F-22s in there as well," Francois replied.
"The men will need a way to get back, as well as maintain communications with us," Mikhailov said.
"Gentlemen, we will be able to have several meetings about this over the coming months. For now, let's break, and begin planning the most important part of this operation, which is building at least one, if not more, of these devices, larger of course, at Edwards. We'll need to meet with the various commanders of these groups, and draw detachments from them. Due to the secrecy surrounding this operation, we will also need to procure TS/SCI rated information couriers for the drawn up plans. I'll be sending out several memos regarding this," Bowers said. Truth be told, he was honestly excited for this.
DARPA might have actually done something right. It would be at least a year until anything fruitful was drawn from this, but it could revolutionize the way war was fought. Not to mention the mineral resources they could draw from the world! But one thing was bothering him. Buildings. Livestock. There was an established populace there. How would they react to such a large, well-armed force appearing in their midst's? He decided to leave these types of questions up to the generals. He needed to cook the books a little bit.
One Year Later...
The last seven months were some of the most confusing of his life for Gunny Johnson, even accounting for when he was still a Fleet Marine. One day, he was prepping for a deployment to Afghanistan, the next he was packing his shit and heading out to Edwards Air Force Base for some type of crazy secret mission. Okay, tracking. But then Spetznatz and SAS started to show up, along with guys from 160th SOAR. There were some Apaches and Cobras already there, and then fixed wing started showing up too. Some type of new training?
That's what a lot of guys thought at first, until the first mission brief they received. Some mad scientist bullshit that DARPA was putting on. Alternate universes or some shit. Johnson just went with it, and the weeks began to fly by. Today was the day apparently. He began making his way towards the crowd on the runway near the three weird towers. Final briefing time.
"Gentlemen, thank you. As you well know, this is the final brief you will receive before heading out. From here, you will grab your gear, board your helicopters, and carry out the mission at hand. You have all been briefed on your assigned roles, and designated ambassadors have been selected. Special devices have been outfitted to your radios in order for you to communicate with us should anything go wrong. Six of you from each outfit have been given the transmitter necessary to start up the machine on this side of the portal. Remember the location you drop out of on the other side, as you will need to head back there when you rotate out.
"You have all been given enough rations to last you three weeks, as well as enough water purification kits to sustain you for the duration. You are encouraged to investigate the local flora and fauna to determine the usability for future expeditions. Ammunition resupplies will be conducted as needed. Good luck gentlemen. Effective as of 0400 this morning, you are all part of the newly created and designated Task Force Daredevil. Godspeed," Beach said, looking out at all the men with pride. One hundred and ninety of the worlds finest warriors, ready to go out and seek new lands for them to utilize, as well as field test the most important piece of gear DARPA had ever created.
"Task Force! Atten-hut!" Beach cried out, snapping the men to attention. He breathed in, memorizing every detail of what was happening here. He wanted to remember it, forever.
"FALL OUT!"
The devices began powering up, the rotors began turning on the Blackhawks, and one hundred and ninety special operators began what promised to be the most exhilarating adventure any of them could have imagined.
Meanwhile, in Equestria...
Rainbow Dash flew over Ponyville, clearing clouds as she went. With no rainstorms to prepare for a while, a week at least, she wanted to make sure the skies were clear and beautiful, and the air plenty warm for her afternoon naps.
Looping back around, she determined that that was indeed the last of the clouds. Rainbow began heading towards Sweet Apple Acres, looking for a comfy branch to fall asleep on. Looked like it was going to be another good day.
Yep, just gonna lie down, take a nap, maybe see what the gang is up to later, Rainbow thought. Just as she closed her eyes, she felt, and heard, an odd thumping sound.
Never heard anything like that before...bunch of pegasi maybe? Oh no! What if it's the princesses? Or the Wonderbolts! Can't let them see me napping! Rainbow thought with panic. She shot up out of the tree and looked to see where the sound was coming from. The west? What could possibly be causing the noise? She flew closer, determined to get to the bottom of this.
What she saw frightened her more than anything else had in her entire life.
A/N: Salutations! It's a return to writing fanfic for me, and I admit that this may be a little bit clunky. I know what you're all thinking: A My Little Pony fanfic, and yet the MLP universe barely had a nod in this chapter! All in good time friends. I'm open for constructive criticism, and any repairs to the plot machine or the grammar modulator are welcome. A few spanners got thrown loose recently, and the entire Manufactorum in general is suffering from a sad state of disrepair. Alright, enough literary and game references. This is Za Raapini saying, Good night, and good luck.