Aegis (closed for Twilight10)
Black Military Operations Base Aegis
Southern Pacific Ocean
A massive twin tilt rotored CV-22 Osprey helicopter was on the end of a thousand mile journey across open ocean, the traditional helicopter rotors facing forward and functioning like a turboprop airplane as it sliced through the air faster then any helicopter ever could previously at speeds surpassing two hundred miles an hour. It was a state of the art aerial machine, and even it was more advanced then the ones currently used in the field.
And the location it was heading to was even more on the cutting edge.
The four person flight crew was on permanent deployment,recently attached to this facility alone. Of them, the co-pilot and one of the flight engineers were female, which was something that had never happened before on flights out here and for good reason, women were seen to be as a distraction for the highly classified black operations they were doing down there.
The reasoning had changed however, and this flight was going to hopefully correct that oversight. For while Military Base Aegis was almost a completely cut off facility, and more or less self sufficient in many regards, base command had finally gotten their final request. Deployment of women to the base. And not just any women.
They would be handpicked too, just like everyone else at the base was.
The cargo hold of the Osprey wasn’t just filled with resupply crates full of batteries, rations and munitions. Lined along both sides of the interior hold, filling the usually empty seats, was another ten women and combined with the two flight crew, represented the first twelve women to be deployed to the facility since it’s initial opening.
Besides the two flight crew, all of them were civilians who volunteered for service in the Pentagons new initiative, the Civilian Expeditionary Corps, and then were handpicked for deployment to Military Base Aegis and after extensive screening and making sure they understoof what they were voluntarily joining, were given even more specialized training and after six months from their initial selection, they were finally arriving here.
One of the female flight engineers opened up a console monitor in the front end of the cargo hold, showing a live feed of the island they were approaching and started pointing out the features like she was a tour guide.
“The island has no name, so the Pentagon calls it Aegis Island, after the Military Operations Base,” the Flight Engineer began to explain. “It’s an ancient, extinct volcanic island according to the geologists with deep caves that go down hundreds, if not thousands of feet. No human habitation until the US Navy set up a weather station in 1923. You can still see the concrete building next to the caldera on the top of the mountain,” she pointed out.
“The Japanese invaded it in World War Two, expanded the pier, constructed a seawall on top of the coral atoll and a short airfield and dock facilities and used it as a seaplane tender base. It was bypassed until the surrender of Japan in forty five and the US Navy moved back in. They used it as a resupply base for the past sixty years, and maintained the weather station. Twenty years ago, it was a testbed for the DoE for geothermal and tidal energy, and you can see the latter facility on the far side of the island where the seas are rougher, slapping against the northside of the volanic mountain.”
The Osprey moved in, heading towards the built up and almost valley like south side of the island, where a massive, sixty year old sea wall blocked off the tides coming in from the beach, and a large beautiful coral atoll topped by an ugly sixty year old manmade seawall encased a white sandy lagoon full of calm waters.
The helipad was located on the outskirts of what looked like a proper military base, complete with HESCO barrier walls and prefabricrated long steel buildings arrayed in a quartet within the walled area, the vegetation removed and poured concrete replacing most of the forts ground. A dirt road led down a shallow slope to the lagoon and dock facilities, which showed some rust due to their age but they could see the two long piers flanking the lagoon, and several roofed docking facilities, as well as what looked like a few tents and umbrellas pitched high up on the beach, right above the sea wall and out of the reach of the waves at any tide.
What most of the women noticed though, was that most of the men seeemed to be milling beside the helipad, waiting for their arrival.
“Most of the facility is actually underground,” the flight engineer said before taking her seat, as the Osprey helicopter landed.
The women knew why they were here, and most of them were feeling a mixture of excitement and apprehension. A long term, well paid getaway on Uncle Sam’s dime to a beautiful island in the South Pacific.
They were trained for six months for this and had been accepted into the Civilian Expeditionary Corps because of their eagerness as much as their backgrounds. All of the women were in their twenties, at the start of their adult lives with educational and professional backgrounds in fields as diverse as nursing, administrative work, technical support, and various military or scientific fields. Others however, had much simpler backgrounds, their primary purpose being defined officially as recreational.
After all, this base was completely self sufficient with one exception, none of the men had seen, much less enjoyed, intimate female company since they arrived. They were eager for the arrival of the women.
And the women were recruited not just for their skills in certain fields, but their talent, or at least eagerness in one particular field they were all going to partake in.
The Osprey landed, and the pilot nodded to the co-pilot who nodded back at him and picked up the radio. “Aegis Base Command,” she started to say, holding back a chuckle at the mysogynistic code phrasing. “This is Falcon One. The whore package has landed,” she said, knowing full well she was including herself in that ‘package.’
The reply came back. “Greeting Falcon One. Please transmit package and passenger manifest,” General Foster, the base commander, then asked.
The Copilot responded affirmatively, using only first names to maintain confidentiality on the unsecured line, even though it was obvious no one was listening in this far out. She started the list by reading off her own name.
“Nichole, Captain, United States Air Force.”
“Kherington, Sergeant, United States Marine Corps,” she then said, rattling off the name of the ships flight engineer.
“Madison, Civilian. Recreational.” she then said, knowing full well what recreational meant.
“Rachel, Civilian. Scientific.”
“Jeanine, Civilian. Medical.”
“Hayley, Civilian. Technical.”
“Kaley, Civilian. Recreational.”
“Emily, Civilian. Administrative.”
“Lia, Civilian. Recreational.”
“Alison, Civilian. Technical.”
“Ellen, Civilian. Medical.”
“Anna, Civilian. Recreational.”
General Foster saw as each womans file and photo was pulled up to his monitor. The twelve women had finally arrived and they surpassed his or anyones expectations even if only three of the womens primary specialization was recreational. And if this worked out, these twelve would only be the tip of the iceberg.
“Preparing to disembark,” the pilot then said. “Lower the ramp.”
The two Flight Engineers quickly scrambled to the rear of the helicopter and lowered the ramp. Sergeant Kherington was about to turn back to start assisting the others get up from their chairs, when as soon as she stepped off the ramp, she could feel the lustful, almost predatory eyes on her, even though she was wearing a rather unflattering drab olive green flight suit. Blushing under her helmet, she waved the civilians forward.
She was somewhat surprised there were no lewd catcalls or whistles, though that might've been due to professionalism, or they were too busy drinking up the sight of live females in their presence after having been denied so long.
Wearing their green tanks and small cargo shorts which accented their curves and showed off their arms and legs, there was nothing unflattering about what they were wearing, and the fact they were all ultimately here for ‘recreational purposes.’
Black Military Operations Base Aegis
Southern Pacific Ocean
A massive twin tilt rotored CV-22 Osprey helicopter was on the end of a thousand mile journey across open ocean, the traditional helicopter rotors facing forward and functioning like a turboprop airplane as it sliced through the air faster then any helicopter ever could previously at speeds surpassing two hundred miles an hour. It was a state of the art aerial machine, and even it was more advanced then the ones currently used in the field.
And the location it was heading to was even more on the cutting edge.
The four person flight crew was on permanent deployment,recently attached to this facility alone. Of them, the co-pilot and one of the flight engineers were female, which was something that had never happened before on flights out here and for good reason, women were seen to be as a distraction for the highly classified black operations they were doing down there.
The reasoning had changed however, and this flight was going to hopefully correct that oversight. For while Military Base Aegis was almost a completely cut off facility, and more or less self sufficient in many regards, base command had finally gotten their final request. Deployment of women to the base. And not just any women.
They would be handpicked too, just like everyone else at the base was.
The cargo hold of the Osprey wasn’t just filled with resupply crates full of batteries, rations and munitions. Lined along both sides of the interior hold, filling the usually empty seats, was another ten women and combined with the two flight crew, represented the first twelve women to be deployed to the facility since it’s initial opening.
Besides the two flight crew, all of them were civilians who volunteered for service in the Pentagons new initiative, the Civilian Expeditionary Corps, and then were handpicked for deployment to Military Base Aegis and after extensive screening and making sure they understoof what they were voluntarily joining, were given even more specialized training and after six months from their initial selection, they were finally arriving here.
One of the female flight engineers opened up a console monitor in the front end of the cargo hold, showing a live feed of the island they were approaching and started pointing out the features like she was a tour guide.
“The island has no name, so the Pentagon calls it Aegis Island, after the Military Operations Base,” the Flight Engineer began to explain. “It’s an ancient, extinct volcanic island according to the geologists with deep caves that go down hundreds, if not thousands of feet. No human habitation until the US Navy set up a weather station in 1923. You can still see the concrete building next to the caldera on the top of the mountain,” she pointed out.
“The Japanese invaded it in World War Two, expanded the pier, constructed a seawall on top of the coral atoll and a short airfield and dock facilities and used it as a seaplane tender base. It was bypassed until the surrender of Japan in forty five and the US Navy moved back in. They used it as a resupply base for the past sixty years, and maintained the weather station. Twenty years ago, it was a testbed for the DoE for geothermal and tidal energy, and you can see the latter facility on the far side of the island where the seas are rougher, slapping against the northside of the volanic mountain.”
The Osprey moved in, heading towards the built up and almost valley like south side of the island, where a massive, sixty year old sea wall blocked off the tides coming in from the beach, and a large beautiful coral atoll topped by an ugly sixty year old manmade seawall encased a white sandy lagoon full of calm waters.
The helipad was located on the outskirts of what looked like a proper military base, complete with HESCO barrier walls and prefabricrated long steel buildings arrayed in a quartet within the walled area, the vegetation removed and poured concrete replacing most of the forts ground. A dirt road led down a shallow slope to the lagoon and dock facilities, which showed some rust due to their age but they could see the two long piers flanking the lagoon, and several roofed docking facilities, as well as what looked like a few tents and umbrellas pitched high up on the beach, right above the sea wall and out of the reach of the waves at any tide.
What most of the women noticed though, was that most of the men seeemed to be milling beside the helipad, waiting for their arrival.
“Most of the facility is actually underground,” the flight engineer said before taking her seat, as the Osprey helicopter landed.
The women knew why they were here, and most of them were feeling a mixture of excitement and apprehension. A long term, well paid getaway on Uncle Sam’s dime to a beautiful island in the South Pacific.
They were trained for six months for this and had been accepted into the Civilian Expeditionary Corps because of their eagerness as much as their backgrounds. All of the women were in their twenties, at the start of their adult lives with educational and professional backgrounds in fields as diverse as nursing, administrative work, technical support, and various military or scientific fields. Others however, had much simpler backgrounds, their primary purpose being defined officially as recreational.
After all, this base was completely self sufficient with one exception, none of the men had seen, much less enjoyed, intimate female company since they arrived. They were eager for the arrival of the women.
And the women were recruited not just for their skills in certain fields, but their talent, or at least eagerness in one particular field they were all going to partake in.
The Osprey landed, and the pilot nodded to the co-pilot who nodded back at him and picked up the radio. “Aegis Base Command,” she started to say, holding back a chuckle at the mysogynistic code phrasing. “This is Falcon One. The whore package has landed,” she said, knowing full well she was including herself in that ‘package.’
The reply came back. “Greeting Falcon One. Please transmit package and passenger manifest,” General Foster, the base commander, then asked.
The Copilot responded affirmatively, using only first names to maintain confidentiality on the unsecured line, even though it was obvious no one was listening in this far out. She started the list by reading off her own name.
“Nichole, Captain, United States Air Force.”
“Kherington, Sergeant, United States Marine Corps,” she then said, rattling off the name of the ships flight engineer.
“Madison, Civilian. Recreational.” she then said, knowing full well what recreational meant.
“Rachel, Civilian. Scientific.”
“Jeanine, Civilian. Medical.”
“Hayley, Civilian. Technical.”
“Kaley, Civilian. Recreational.”
“Emily, Civilian. Administrative.”
“Lia, Civilian. Recreational.”
“Alison, Civilian. Technical.”
“Ellen, Civilian. Medical.”
“Anna, Civilian. Recreational.”
General Foster saw as each womans file and photo was pulled up to his monitor. The twelve women had finally arrived and they surpassed his or anyones expectations even if only three of the womens primary specialization was recreational. And if this worked out, these twelve would only be the tip of the iceberg.
“Preparing to disembark,” the pilot then said. “Lower the ramp.”
The two Flight Engineers quickly scrambled to the rear of the helicopter and lowered the ramp. Sergeant Kherington was about to turn back to start assisting the others get up from their chairs, when as soon as she stepped off the ramp, she could feel the lustful, almost predatory eyes on her, even though she was wearing a rather unflattering drab olive green flight suit. Blushing under her helmet, she waved the civilians forward.
She was somewhat surprised there were no lewd catcalls or whistles, though that might've been due to professionalism, or they were too busy drinking up the sight of live females in their presence after having been denied so long.
Wearing their green tanks and small cargo shorts which accented their curves and showed off their arms and legs, there was nothing unflattering about what they were wearing, and the fact they were all ultimately here for ‘recreational purposes.’
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