"Now that we're alone with the Officer Cadres of our respective units," Major Kelly began, scratching his cheek, "I'm sure most of you have a great deal of questions," and his eyes locked onto Tibbets most of all. He saw the curiosity with which the man stared at them all, the advanced Science-Fiction Soldiers of the future. He told them, "I'm gonna preface this by saying that they'll all hopefully be answered."
Tibbets raised his hand like they were at school and the Major gave a nod to him. The young 101st Airborne Lieutenant asked them, "Not to sound ungrateful, major, but you're god-damned right most of us have questions. Cuz people don't just drop from the sky in stuff capable of breaking atmosphere, come say 'hi' and 'we're your friends now' without some sort of… I don't fucking know…"
"I understand, Lieutenant. And I appreciate the healthy dose of skepticism," He nodded, "I summoned you all here for the specific reason of relaying how we got here with permission from both President Nixon and the commanding officer aboard our ship, the Spirit of Fire . Captain Cutter wanted this reveal done a little earlier, but fear of the Nazi rat bastards having spies in the US made First Contact one hell of a private affair."
"That's putting it mildly," Fischer said, letting his CAR hang by the strap as he gesticulated during his speech, "To put it into perspective, people, the CIA was only told about this about a month after they landed in Area 51. They were present for much longer than that up above…" and he pointed at the ceiling in a metaphorical way of showing the skies.
A few murmurs between the officers echoed, but Tibbets remained vocal, stating, "Ship. You guys say you're from space and now you're mentioning Navy stuff. Which is it?"
"The UNSC has multiple branches, lieutenant, as it was heavily modeled after the United States. Army, Navy, Air Force and Marines ," The major grinned as he and his troops called out, "Oorah!" with some degree of pride. The 1st Marines Division officers cheered in kind, wide grins on their faces. He then continued, "The UNSC Spirit of Fire is a support vessel, akin to the amphibious assault ships of modern times. She's still armed like a fucking Cruiser, though."
"And you guys aren't bombing the Nazis from orbit?" Tibbets snorted, "Seems kinda hard to believe…"
"We would've," Jeon spoke next, "Risk of civilian casualties and escalation to nuclear warfare is too high at the moment. Until we manage to help the Organization of Free Nations research a potent enough anti-nuclear defense net, our operations will remain small-scale, such as supporting combat here in the South African region. And fucking with the Nazis' Civil War, obviously."
A few laughs echoed amidst the ranks of both sides, with Aletta, who'd now joined them, smiling.
"Nukes get in the way again," Voiced Haverson, sighing, "Can't have a good ol' war with them around anymore," and he smirked as a few of the boys around them laughed. He told them, "Mutually Assured Destruction is a fucking pain. The Nazis would've been floored without the Nukes the moment we recovered from that blow to the back of the head that was Hawaii."
"That is exactly the reason the UNSC has decided to help," Major Kelly nodded, "We hate the rat fuckers as much as you do, for different reasons. Ancestral even," and he took a pause to think. He asked, "If we may proceed with the briefing, ladies and gentlemen," only to wait for Tibbets to butt in again.
The man stayed quiet, much to the major's surprise. It seemed as though his interest was finally piqued, considering the situation unfolding around them was a combination of dream and a sort of nightmare. It was the Sword of Damocles, hanging above Civilization, but also their possible safety net, the saviors of mankind, a brother from beyond…
Victor nodded, "Alright. Onward we go…" and he began.
Two years earlier…
Aboard the UNSC Phoenix-class refit Support Vessel ' Spirit of Fire'
"Captain, wake up. Something has happened…"
The Crew was no stranger to weird events. From the Covenant's unrelenting war of genocide to the encounters with the Flood and the Forerunner technology that had them stripped of their Slipspace Drive, leaving them dead in the water, floating aimlessly in the emptiness of Interstellar Space. They were no strangers to harsh conditions, either…
This had to take the cake of weird occurrences for them, though. Captain James Gregory Cutter, veteran of a great deal many fights and the captain of the finest Phoenix-class support vessel in the navy, stared at the blue-green globe ahead of them like he was seeing Ghosts. He spoke, "Serina… What the hell are we looking at?"
"That, sir," A British-accented voice replied, "Is Earth . It is, however, not ours," and she materialized in the form of her avatar. The hologram pillar next to the Captain's seat glowed blue as the pixels danced, forming into the shape of a beautiful, sharp-dressed young woman, her hands behind her back. Serina, the UNSC AI belonging to the Spirit of Fire , smiled, "It's only been a year, sir. And yet you haven't aged a day."
"While I appreciate the compliment," The Captain replied courteously, "I'd rather get some info. What do you mean that isn't our Earth?"
"Well, sir, as you can obviously tell," The woman replied as she showed him to join her at the holographic table. When he walked over, she spoke, "There are no Orbital Defense Platforms currently under construction… And I cannot detect anything important in orbit, not even Satellites. Or if there are, we're not scanning for them."
The holographic map showing Humanity's cradle displayed various discrepancies to their normal homeworld, ranging from a lack of even basic orbital infrastructure to the fact most of the communication down below was being done with methods that were outdated several centuries ago. Captain Cutter felt a pit in his stomach as he ordered, "Monitor planetwide coms."
"I am," Serina replied, "Their encryption schemes are archaic. I'm going to crack the first sets of codes in the next few seconds, but… It's the unencrypted reports that worry me, sir," then she pulled up one such report for Cutter to read. The readings from the planet below were worrisome enough, but what Cutter was reading…
He was about to speak, but the AI stated, "I've re-made the checks and retranslated everything, sir… I'm not sure I want to know what sort of temporal anomaly occurred to where we arrived where we are, but this is real, " and she cut most of her external speakers, talking to Cutter only via his com earpiece, "... Nazi Germany and the other Axis Powers are still here. In nineteen-sixty-one, sir."
"... Keep scanning coms and leave this between us, Serina. Warn the crew not to attempt to descend to the planet just yet," The man ordered, then cast a glance past the thick reinforced windows of the ship's bridge. Down below, lay an Earth unlike any they'd seen before. An Earth that felt like a nightmare just from this first Report.
The Greater German Reich existed down below, hinting at the terrifying change to the world. The man walked over to his chair and sat down, staring at the dark world below. Though it was six hundred years' history at this point, the crimes of Nazi Germany and the Axis against the world were a well-known, horrific chapter in the annals of history.
It was why the Captain felt acrid bile rise up in his throat at the thought of them still existing. Every single atrocity committed during the Second World War probably went unanswered. It sent a shiver up his spine. They'd hang out in low orbit until the man was sure that the report was accurate. Sure, anyone with a telescope could probably spot them from down below, but they were on the 'bright' side, the Sun being not quite behind them, but perhaps allowing them to be concealed by the blue sky.
He scratched his chin, feeling his stubble, then sighed and rubbed his eyes as Serina appeared on the holographic pedestal next to him. She spoke, still only over the earpiece, "Good news, sir. Unencrypted communiques point out that there is a counterbalance to the Germans and Japanese. The United States of America is still free, as are several Oceanian, Pacific and American countries. And they are united…"
Cutter perked up and whispered, "Oh?"
"Yes," The woman nodded, pulling up something to show him. She told him, "The next few reports I've decompiled mention an 'Organization of Free Nations'. The OFN for short, led by the United States of America," as she pulled up the flag of the OFN:A hand holding the Torch of Liberty, encased in a circle with the letters O. F. N. written below. She stated, "It seems to be akin to the old North Atlantic Treaty Organization. A counterbalance to the Nazi 'Einheitspakt' and Greater East-Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere of Japan."
"Huh…" Cutter mumbled, "Hell of a rollercoaster you just put me through, Serina."
"The Germans still seem to own much of the world, sir," She replied, "Same for the Japanese Empire," and she turned her gaze toward the world, "Meanwhile, we're one ship stuck in the middle of basically nowhere, with no Slipspace Drive and no allies. I'd have thought we abandoned the idea of 'suicide missions' after Etran Anchorage."
"Do you have any ideas?" Cutter inquired as he stared at the data streaming into the console on the side of his seat, most of it pertaining to this New Order, the Nazis' rule, the news broadcasts on old television lines and radio waves in various languages and the Propaganda pieces displayed by the Nazis in regards to their victory. Their best bet, obviously, was the OFN.
"None beside what you have probably already thought of, sir," Serina joked, smiling slyly at the captain. She knew very well the man would pick the Democracy, having been born and raised as a UEG Patriot for the better part of his life. Democracy was the lifeblood of the UEG, regardless of how some people had viewed it back in the day.
"Send scouts down to the planet below, figure out the best course of action…" The man enumerated calmly as he flipped through the incoming data that Serina was filtering. He spoke calmly, "Which is, rather obviously, siding with the OFN," as his fingers finally let the system settle on the OFN, with Serina actively compiling their file.
"Shall we skip the Scouts and just land by Washington DC to say hello directly, sir?" Serina inquired humorously, crossing her arms to her chest while still smiling. She also knew the Captain was a man of principle. One who wouldn't ever really shy away from a fight like this, especially when it came to the liberation of humanity. The Nazis had been a threat in the 1940s that was subdued through the combined efforts of the United Nations. With some luck (and backing the Organization of Free Nations, obviously), they could do the same here.
"Heh," The man cracked a small smile at that, too, then replied calmly, "No, I'd rather not risk whatever President or Chief of Staff spots us firing their entire Nuclear Arsenal our way. We ought to land somewhere that could technically be considered safe ground to do so, away from prying eyes," all while he pruned through the data for said location.
"You were quick to make your decision, sir…" The AI observed, then let out a light chuckle as she saw the man's gaze turn to steel. This wasn't a matter of decisions to be made. Siding with the OFN was genuinely the sole thing that wouldn't stain their souls irrevocably. Much more, no sane member of the UNSC would want to side with one genocidal empire or another.
Flawed or not, Democracies were humanity's best hope, especially in as dark a Mirror World as this…
"It's the only choice we have…" The man mumbled, closing the window and standing up. He approached the window, hands behind his back as he listened to the happy, but concerned murmurs of the crew, and he told Serina directly, "I want us to brief the Crew first before we make our plans known, however. Let them know what we're about to get into."
"I'm already preparing a briefing package…" The AI replied, her avatar glowing a tinge more brightly. She asked, "May I take the liberty of alerting Doctor Anders myself? I'd like to see her face," with a hint of mischief in her voice. The Captain couldn't help but snort at it, meeting the gaze of his long-time AI.
"Do it as soon as the information package is ready," He approved, giving a gentle nod of his head. He added, "And get her to help you find out how we even dropped here in the first place," because that was also an important matter. They would help the new Allies win the fight against the Nazis and Japanese, but the matter of finding a way home, or… Something… Was necessary to help drive his own people, now displaced in time and space, to persevere.
"Sir," The AI snapped a crisp salute, then her Avatar dissipated from the pedestal. Cutter himself watched Earth. It wasn't their Earth, but that didn't matter. Every man and woman in the ranks of the United Nations Space Command had one vow they hold sacred above all:Freedom and security for mankind, regardless of race or creed, from enemies within and without.
The Nazis were an Enemy Within that was plaguing one version of their Homeworld. One that, in this place, whatever and wherever it was, was allowed to run amok and cause harm to a great deal too many people. He scoffed, turned away from the windows and walked to the door, much to the murmurs of everyone around them.
He marched down the corridors, past the crew of his Old Girl, watching them go about their business, partially excited, partially worried that mankind down below hadn't come to say hello. He understood their concerns, but decided not to say anything until the wider briefing. He was sure some of the communication staff were already picking up intel, but he trusted Serina to keep them calm for now.
When he got to his cabin, he made himself another cup of coffee in preparation for a long few days. It was dark roast, standard, frozen and thawed like the rest of them. Military brew wasn't awful, but Cutter used to have his own personal stash at one point. He could've also asked Hydroponics to make more, but at this point, until they secured a surefire supply of food and water, it was best to let them do their thing.
About two more hours passed, time in which the Continental United States, visible out of the window of the Captain's Quarters, had been engulfed in the darkness of night. He could see the lights of the Highways and cities from so high up in orbit, much like the brave few pioneers of the old days of Space Travel could've from their capsules and the ISS.
He recalled that Space Travel only really started galloping in the '60s, with the advent of better and better rockets and electronics birthed out of a combination of an Arms Race between the Soviet Union and the US, with NATO and the Pact becoming Spectators to such an aggressive race to grow beyond the Cradle of Mankind.
Sipping from his coffee as he read the ever-updating Reports compiled by Serina and the few ONI intelligence staff they had aboard, the picture he was being painted was not pretty:As they'd expected, all of Europe was under the thrall of Nazi Germany, or was under the control of the Einheitspakt's member nations. Africa was, too, with chunks of former British and French Colonies having been seized after the Victory of the Axis and Start of the Dark Age.
In Asia, it was not better, with swathes of the continent being either under direct Japanese Control, or in the vice of the 'Greater East-Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere', the Japanese 'Alliance' that never came to be in any other normal world, a Continent-wide iron grip made of Puppet States, only opposed by Australia in the South. He scratched his neck, sighing, then mumbled, "What in God's name have they been doing to the people in those Dark Zones…"
Then, something caught his eye. One thing was continuously mentioned in German reports. 'Ordenstaat Burgund'. Little intel about it was available at the moment, so he made a mental note to make that something to ask about when he inevitably had to meet the OFN's Council. Then, the realization struck: He was the sole representative of a Humanity not united by fear, from a Timeline that must've seemed like fiction to these people…
He breathed a sigh and finished his coffee, just in time for Serina to appear beside him on the holographic pedestal. She saluted and said, "Sir, preliminary Briefing package sent to all Crew. It's succinct, but it gets the point of our dire straits across. Should I also send a message to muster, or would you rather do this from the Bridge or-"
"Tell as many of the crew as are available and off-duty to muster in the Cargo Hold. I want an open transmit through PAs to anyone unable to attend due to being on duty," The man replied as he pushed himself away from his desk and stood up. He asked, "How did Ellen react to the news?" only to see Serina smile a bit… About one second later, multiple thumps echoed from the door in rapid succession. The Captain smiled a little, then sighed and said, "It's open."
The door's automatic release clicked and it hissed as it slid open, revealing the beautiful features of one young doctor of some Asian descent. Her brows were furrowed, her eyes filled with fear. She approached, lifting her tablet to show the briefing package and remained silent. Cutter joked, "You're a fast reader, doctor…" to lighten the mood somewhat.
"Not funny…" She spoke softly, then set the tablet into her bag. She stared at him, looking him right in the eye, before asking, "What are we going to do about that?" and pointing at Earth. She walked over to the window and said, "Do you have any idea how much of a nightmare this entire timeline is? I've been looking over our Data and it says a Slipspace Rupture dropped us off here…"
"Without an FTL drive, might I add?" Serina quipped, showing a hint of concern.
"And you waited to mention this until now, Serina?" The Captain stared at the girl.
She chuckled, "Well, I'm not the only one who enjoys dropping a metaphorical truth bomb every now and again. It was something I and doctor Anders agreed on the moment we came here… Though I can see how it might've been important," and then she shrugged. Ellen, much to her credit, remained composed, staring at the man.
She told him, "I want to go down there."
"I know," He told her, then showed her to follow. They walked out of the room as a two-tone horn alarm for crew muster, followed by Serina's voice giving directions. Though mentally discombobulated by what must've seemed like an awful prank immediately after waking up, the Crew scrambled to stations and to the meeting points. He told Anders, "We'll be sending an Away Team as soon as I'm done briefing the crew personally at Muster."
"And I am going with them," She insisted.
"I never said no, doctor," He stated, "But you are going to a possibly friendly nation for First Contact, alongside a platoon of Marines and an ONI Asset. Serina, get lieutenant Mee-Yon and her escort ready. Tell them the moment I'm done talking, they're to deploy to the pre-selected Landing Site with Doctor Anders."
"Sir. Message sent and received. They're eager for action," The AI replied, calm as a cucumber.
"... Thank you," She spoke softly, looking at Cutter with wide eyes, "Where is the LZ?"
"Somewhere probably classified for them, but that's been Declassified for us the moment the UEG formed," The man replied as he pulled the file up on his own personal tablet and sent it to Ellen. The woman blanked, staring at it, then snorted and looked at him. He nodded and said, "I know your mother worked there back in the early days."
"She was helping test prototype assault craft early on, yes," Anders chuckled, jovial, "Can't believe I'm going to be seeing that place, too… Death Valley is nice this time of year, I think," and the Captain could only smile at her change of demeanor. It was sometimes that easy to please Doctor Ellen Anders. They marched toward one of the many trams and moved toward the rallying point set by the Captain for the meeting.
Area 51. Their target was Area 51. The (currently) most secluded base of operations in the United States. The Air Force's favored test site for some of the most advanced aircraft ever fielded and the base of many UFO-based conspiracy theories started from 1947 in Roswell. While Cutter wasn't privy to whether it was true that they had Little Grey Men as far back as six centuries ago, he knew it was an important installation.
Good enough to get the eyes of the current US Government without arousing suspicion from the Civilians, he thought. Not too much, anyway. There was a reason they weren't landing the Spirit and only sending a small recon team instead. As the Tram arrived at the place's cavernous central cargo bay, where almost two thousand of the vessel's crew and troop contingent had gathered, the room fell silent.
The commanders of the troop contingent barked, "CAPTAIN, ON-DECK!" and a thousand bootheels clicked together, hands chopped to foreheads in crisp salutes. Though some looked slightly demoralized, others seemed to be waiting. Waiting to see what the Captain would say. They seemed stern, serious. Some even seemed ecstatic to actually fight the old enemy.
The man stopped in front of the formation, staring at the entire group of soldiers, sailors and Marines. ODSTs, Hellbringers and more greeted him and Anders, all of them looking expectantly at the man as crew operating the machinery in the Hold stopped whatever they were doing to listen, too. Serina spoke, "Sir, PA System linked to your personal communication device… You're loud across the ship."
"Thank you, Serina," He nodded, then saw Red Team among the crowd, clad in their MJOLNIR sets, at attention. Clicking his tongue and scanning the lineup of troops and crew present one last time, the man cleared his throat and started, "Ladies and gentlemen… I'm acutely aware that report you received a little less than half-an-hour ago from Serina was not what you were expecting to read when you were told we woke up above Earth of all places…"
He sighed deeply, hands behind his back, then said, "Believe me, I wasn't either. I was hoping it was some sort of bluff or a prank pulled by our dear Smart AI to try and rouse us out of bed more… Seems like it ain't the case, though. Not even Serina's that cruel with her jokes," and that garnered a few laughs, while the AI stared at the man with an 'I'm gonna get you back for that' kind of smirk.
He retained a stern face, stating, "We're still gathering intelligence passively from up here. And from what we can tell from communiques from all three sides of the world, that being the Organization of Free Nations, Einheitspakt and the Greater East-Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere, none of their Telescopes have spotted us. Their orbital capabilities are still somewhat limited, but that does not mean they don't have any. We know for a fact that the world has entered the Atomic Age from scattered, decrypted reports of Nuclear Force training on all sides of this twisted Cold War."
Murmurs of malcontent regarding that news filtered through to him. He nodded, "It's part of the reason we haven't outright landed in any of the populated areas. Risk Assessment puts the threat of the Reich's launches of nuclear armaments, American retaliation through MAD and thus a world-ending Nuclear Holocaust too high for us to risk a damn thing… That does not mean we'll sit up here with our hands in our pockets."
As murmurs abounded again, he stated, "I know you all wanted to go home after so long. I know you all wanted to live your lives again, whether next to loved ones not seen since the start of our brutal campaign against the Covenant, or with new faces," his voice stern, proud, "But it seems as though whoever dropped us off here has another job for us. The united strength of the world defeated the Nazi and Japanese menace in our world… Whatever occurred here, the locals weren't so lucky."
"It was the United Nations, the Allies, that helped facilitate such a victory in our timeline. A hundred peoples, otherwise enemies or unknown to each-other, voiced in unison their hatred for the vile, murderous regimes that now rule the planet below. You are their descendants," He spoke, his voice welling as he looked at each face ahead, "As you are descendants of those who've fought the Koslovics and Frieden in the Interplanetary and Rainforest Wars. The United Nations Space Command was built to defeat terrorists, monsters and dictators!"
Small smiles began to crop up from otherwise tired faces as the man continued on, "And you are the youth that has given your years to fight the Covenant, beating them back from Harvest and diving into the Great Unknown to not let their grubby alien mitts take control of weapons powerful enough to wipe humanity! You sacrificed your lives before in defense of our humanity! Of our people! Of our Earth!"
Small cheers then came. He still spoke, pride imbuing his words, "And now , humanity asks you to sacrifice yourselves again in defense of the Freedoms we cherished enough to join the UNSC Navy, the Marines, the Army and the Air Force! You are the Crew I've proudly called a Family since my first day of commanding this vessel, so, tell me, my brothers and sisters, will we let the claws of the Nazi Eagle stay stuck in Europe ?!"
"NO!" Barked the crew across the ship, from the menial workers, to the Bridge staff, from the Marines to their Officers.
" Will we let the Black and Red Suns keep this world covered in Darkness !?" The man demanded again.
" NO !" They roared again, proud.
" Then, WILL WE DEFEAT THEM AS OUR ANCESTORS HAVE IN THE PAST, UNITED UNDER ONE BANNER !?" He bellowed
" YES, SIR !"
" WILL WE SUPPORT OUR BROTHERS IN ARMS BELOW IN THEIR FIGHT TO LIBERATE THEIR HOME !?"
" YES, SIR !"
"Onward, then! Man your stations! Prep for First Contact! And be ready to be called upon to serve again! The Organization of Free Nations will need all the help it can get in the coming few years," The man told them. He snapped a salute and barked, "Dismissed!" while both Serina and Anders couldn't help but smile. Corny as it was, any speech that roused weary spirits back up for the fight was needed right now.
"Oorah!" The crew cheered, saluting before they scattered to their duties. The man nodded to Ellen, who in turn nodded to Serina before stepping off and boarding the nearest tram to the Hangar. Pilots and Marines joined her, presumably her escort. The ONI agents aboard were also on the tram with her, weirdly enough.
The AI spoke, "Onward to fighting the bastards who spawned the worst crimes against humanity, then. Aye, sir," with a bit of a snide tone. The Captain rolled his eyes at the quip, boarded the Tram to the bridge. Serina couldn't help but feel they just dipped their toes in a pond full of Crocodiles. Risks and tensions were high down there, higher than even during the Cuban Missile Crisis…
She prayed they knew what they were doing…
Air Force Top Secret Test Site
Codename:'Area 51'
Groom Lake, Nevada, United States of America
Senior Airman Lawrence was normally lax on his duties. Nobody ever really bothered to come to the Middle of Nowhere, Nevada for anything other than the rare State Visit or the testing of some new aircraft by a big company like McDonnell-Douglas or Boeing(He still remember seeing McDonnell-Douglas's F4s on the runway a year back). The sprawling desert, with vast dunes, desert shrubs and the beautifully weird rock formations that surrounded Groom Lake, was basically a dead-end area.
The Air Force paid well to keep the place safe and, unlike his pals, the pale-skinned young man wasn't stuck in a Missile Silo that would've probably been the target of a Kraut or Jap First Strike in the case a Nuclear War actually started. Hell, he was happy just patrolling the base's admin building outside. Multiple hangars with stuff way above his paygrade stood ahead of the place, maybe a half-mile to a mile out on the other end of the Runway and Taxiways.
He cradled his M14, looking around. He saw the landing lights, the airbase's radar spinning still and the ATC Tower not too far away, too. It was basically the only place that was really active. The Airbase's offices, home for the commander and the staff, only had one light on on all four of its floors. The Lieutenant-General's office. Muffled dulcet tunes by 'The Tokens' echoed from it. The man was probably listening to their newly-released song while doing some sort of late-hour paperwork.
Lawrence himself, happy to hear the tunes on his patrol, had some degree of pep in his step. He sighed deeply, pushing his glasses to the top of his nose and making sure the strap of his white helmet was tight. It was surprisingly chilly out in the Desert at night, but he at least had the beautiful sight of the night sky above them.
The Stars above were another Front for the Cold War. He knew that much, but… He couldn't help but be enthralled by the sheer beauty of space. As big as the Conflict seemed on Television, with the Nazis and their absolute mess with Europe, not to mention all the rumors with the Burgundians? It all felt mighty insignificant when the heavens themselves were filled with such wonder.
Despite it all, that momentary peace he had just felt was shattered. He felt a chill in his spine as alarms began to blare across the base, air raid sirens. He swore to himself, "Oh, shit!" his voice cracking. His grip nearly slipped on his rifle as he scrambled for cover, finding solace in hiding behind a nearby power station that worked the lights.
The base's SAM systems seemed to power on, various anti-air missiles and the Triple-A Batteries around lighting up, their lights scanning the sky and then locking onto a fast-approaching object in the distance. Even the base's F4 Interceptors were being prepared for launch, their engines audibly roaring and revving as their hangar doors opened.
"Tom!" One of Lawrence's best friends called out to him, an African-American guy by the name of Bucky. He jumped into cover beside him and demanded, "Man, what the hell's going on!?" only for Lawrence to see the scrawny dark-skinned man was in nothing but a short-sleeved white shirt, his skivvies and boots without shoes.
"I don't know!" Lawrence replied, then peeked back out from cover as the rest of the base's garrison streamed out onto the Tarmac. He clicked the safety off his weapon off and aimed toward the damn thing that the AAA batteries' spotting lights and sensors had locked on, only to pause as he realized nothing was shooting.
The Lieutenant-General in charge of the Airbase ran out, service pistol in a holster on his belt as he put on his dress uniform. He was a tall man, well-built and pale-skinned like Lawrence, but with graying black hair and blue eyes. The man stopped on the Tarmac and barked, "WEAPONS DOWN! STAY ALERT!" to his Airmen.
The aircraft that moved toward them was… Shocking, to say the least. A VTOL-capable transport craft, painted OD-Green with engines set in individual, specialized and moving nacelles. The craft had forward-pushing thrusters and thrusters meant for landing, which it now used to touch down on the road next to the command building, turning backward to reveal a hatch in the rear.
Tom and Bucky both gasped, with the former standing to his feet, trembling as he cradled his M14. The aircraft's rear landing struts and forward wheel extended as the engines blew the air around like a cyclone, causing the clothing on most of the men's bodies to flap around. When it touched down and the rear door opened, the first out was a platoon of soldiers clad in dark-green armor and cradling strange rifles in their arms.
The formed up, letting the VIPs out. Two women, both of seeming Asian descent, jumped out of the transport vehicle. One was clad in a dark uniform, bearing a roundel emblem on the left side of her chest with a half-dark, half-lit Pyramid and an eye in the center. She tightened the bun on the back of her head, then looked back to the woman clad in a parka and Jeans.
The Lieutenant-General spoke, "You gave our Air Defense one hell of a scare," with mild annoyance in his voice. The leading woman, who had rank pins on her collar, snapped a salute with a smile while the man stared at both of them. The other, cradling a weird device on which she seemed to be tapping away, simply looked up at and nodded to the Lieutenant-General.
The woman in the lead replied, "Apologies, Lieutenant-General McCready, but we had to make sure we were in short-range communications… We wouldn't want your enemies to know about us ahead of time…" and that seemed to cause the man some suspicion. Understandable. It wasn't every day someone landed in the backyard of a top-secret AFB/Test Site.
"We barely picked up your craft on Radar as it was," He told her, then looked at the more angular shape of the transport craft. He mumbled, "Fucking Hell… LeMay ain't gonna believe this shit," then looked to the two women and asked, "Identify yourselves. Your pilot only gave us a Callsign and that's all."
"First Lieutenant Jeon Mee-Yon, of the Office of Naval Intelligence, Section One. This is Doctor Ellen Anders," She told him while motioning to the woman in the Parka. The woman once again gave a wave, then gazed around at all the Airmen clad in blue uniforms and mumbled something. She stated, "And yes, I am quite glad the Stealth Pelican worked."
"Stealth?" He blinked, "Lieutenant, that's one of the biggest pipe dreams the Air Force has. How the hell do you know about it?"
"Long story… May we speak inside?" She requested.
"You both look Jap enough for me to consider locking you up for an investigation," The man replied rather annoyedly, then looked past them, at the green-clad soldiers with rifles, most of which tensed. Their faces were visible. Whites, blacks and Asians in the same units. He then added, "Then again, I'm guessing your boys wouldn't be too happy for it."
"No…" Jeon smiled, "Also, I'm Korean, sir. Not Japanese."
"Ain't Korea occupied by the bastards, though?" He asked, arms crossed to his chest.
"Here, yes," She shrugged, then stated, "We will tell you more when we're out of this Desert Cold, however, sir. If that's fine by you… We'd also like to get an audience with your President for our Captain, but that can wait until we've had a chat…" then she looked at the tense Airmen around, locked onto Lawrence and smirked, giving the young man a wink.
The General ran his hand over his chin, which was starting to grow a slight beard, then sighed and looked to an Airman, ordering him, "You're my typewriter, son. You'll record my convo with the ladies and send it over to the Chief of the Air Force, so he can deliver it to the President ASAP," only to receive a quick salute. The General looked at the two women and said, "Follow me, then, Lieutenant, Doctor… Let's chat."
Washington DC
Approximately two hours later
Richard Nixon was a man of action most of the time. It was why he was up at two in the god-damned morning writing up paperwork for Congress to look over. He had to approve some Defense Spending for the Air Force and do a lot of other menial crap that he didn't manage to delegate to his secretary before he sent her home for the evening.
Rubbing his face, the bull-faced man with receding black hair swore to himself that political work was gonna be the death of him. It was past midnight and here he was, still writing things that nobody really needed much approval for. Budget for the Air Force, Army and Navy to be expanded upon and whatever remained going to the Marines.
One thing he was still proud of signing into goddamn reality was the Civil Rights Act the moment he became President of these mighty United States. Helped reduce some of the internal issues the country was facing by a donkey-load while he got some other stuff sorted out. He licked his lips, picked up the glass of water sat beside him and tried to take a sip, only to notice it was empty.
"Christ's sake…" He mumbled, then stood to his feet, walking over toward a table by the side of the left-most window of the Oval Office. He picked up the pitcher, poured himself water, then set the pitcher down and downed the whole glass, feeling the cool liquid calm his nerves a little. He sighed, tugged at his collar and loosened his tie a little before pouring himself a reserve glass and walking over to the desk.
His leather office chair creaked a little as he sat down, then mumbled, "Congress better approve the Budget tomorrow or I swear to Christ, I'm gonna slap someone in that chamber full of morons," with a hint of anger. He grabbed the next file in the pile and his stylus and started writing, watching the ink form the shapes he wanted on the paper.
… Only for one loose line to immediately scratch the paper as the door slammed open. His right hand jumped and knocked his glass over, water falling onto the floor, nearly staining the sigil of the US Presidency. He rolled his eyes and groaned, "For f-..." only to look over to the door that opened. Ahead of him, a well-built man with graying, slicked hair on top of his head and piercing eyes stepped inside, files under his arm.
His chest was pinned full of medals and ribbons, his blue uniform well-pressed and the bags under his eyes clearly visible due to having probably been awoken some minutes ago. He saluted and said, "Mister President," though his voice was muffled by the large cigar he held in his mouth, which was smoking.
"Curt, what the hell are you doing here at two in the god-damn morning?" The President rubbed his eyes, "Whatever budget additions you want, it can't be that important that they had to rouse you out of bed, too…" before he paused. He saw the grim look in the man's eyes and straightened up in his chair, "... What is it…? First Strike? The Krauts or Nips finally snapped?"
"No, sir," The man replied as he walked over, handing him a file with TOP SECRET stamped right on top of the god-damn thing in bold red lettering and in a box, too. Nixon stared at the file and took it from the man's hands, which allowed the General and active Chief of Staff of the Air Force to grab onto his cigar, take a deep puff and flick some of the ash off in a tray on the table behind him.
The President swallowed emptily, asking, "New protocols? Some data on movement in Hawaii? German nukes or Burgundians doing something untoward nearby us? Gimme something here, General, because it's two in the god-damn morning and I ain't feelin' like playin' charades or just readin' a file that turns out to be nothing. You get me?"
"It's all in the file, sir," Curtis replied, terrifyingly tense.
Nixon blinked, then decided to open the file. As he started reading and his eyes grew wider, Curtis LeMay told him, "They just landed at Groom Lake a couple of hours ago, sir. This is a transcript McCready sent my way the moment they were done with the chatter… Alongside quick-printed photographs of the Marines and the two women they sent as ambassadors."
"... Christ…" Nixon mumbled. He looked up at LeMay, then asked, "... And they're offering up help for the OFN… This real, Curt? Not some bullshit test?"
"As real as can be according to their envoys, sir," The General nodded, his voice grave, "McCready confirmed it to me over phone call the moment this file arrived. The doorbell woke me and Helen up like the devil just rang the Horns of fucking Jericho," and he pointed at the file, "They speak English, say they're from a friendly ship in damn ORBIT and they're offering to help. They even provided evidence."
Nixon stared at the photographs of the dropship they'd landed with, the troops and the two women, then mumbled, "Christ, who went up to Heaven, slapped God and told Him, 'Hey, maybe give the world's Democracies a damn break'...!?" before he went to take another sip of water, only to remember that, yes, he'd spilled his drink when Curt walked in.
"I don't know, sir…" LeMay answered with half a mouth.
Dick looked up at the man, narrowed his lips, breathed in and out, then said, "You know what? To hell with it… Tell'em to send their Captain down for that chat tomorrow. I'll call an emergency summit with Congress and the OFN right in the Presidential Bunker and talk to this 'captain Cutter' with everyone else there. I don't care what it takes."
"Sir, with all due respect, shouldn't we prepare a nuclear response in case it turns out to be a mistake-" LeMay started, ready to offer the Nuclear Option as always.
Nixon interrupted him, however, by staring at him and saying in a deadpan, "Curt. Shut the hell up. We ain't startin' our Goddamn First Contact with possibly friendly Aliens via nuclear hellfire …!" then he looked at the file, licked his lips and said, "Have the CIA burn these files the moment they're outta my hands. I don't want the Nazis or the 'Nips to know a damn thing about these people, so if anyone gets too close to'em… Burn'em, too. "
Curtis blinked, then breathed a sigh and said, "Yessir," snapping a salute. He was dismissed by Nixon with a wave of the hand, before the President leaned against his desk and rubbed his eyes. Even the cold feeling of water on his elbow from the spilled glass didn't deter him. He sighed deeply, feeling his heart beating like a jackhammer.
They'd just been handed an opportunity on a golden god-damned platter… He wasn't gonna be the moron to waste it…