"For the Betterment of Planet Earth" (closed)

[MarieDavisRPs]

"For the Betterment
of
Planet Earth"

(closed to desperado1089)
​

Astronomical exploration had been taken a hit over the past decade, with the failure of one after another spaceborne or land-based telescope. Whether visual, infrared, and otherwise, each either ceased working entirely or simply failed to produce the clear images or numerical readings of which their creators and operators had expected.

By the time the Press caught wind of the stories and conspiracy theorists were churning out imminent alien invasion stories, the various military and intelligence agencies were already deep into their investigations. Despite the national government or international cooperative in question, the only answers found were variations of the same: don't know, what the fuck?

Then, on the night of 25 August 2030, a massive alien spaceship simply appeared in high orbit above Earth; the 10-mile-long, 3 mile-across craft's surprising appearance would be attributed to the failure of the telescopes, obviously, though, the full truth of the matter wouldn't be learned for quite some time. There was, obviously, varying levels of panic across earth, from governments and individuals both.

Many believed that an alien invasion was imminent. Militaries were mobilized to their fullest; civilians raided stores and horded supplies; governments ordered curfews with police forces enforcing them, sometimes lethally. And yet, 20 days had passed, and nothing had happened.

And finally, three weeks later, today arrived...

At 1615 hours GMT on 15 September 2030, screens across the world -- smart phones, laptops, televisions, jumbotrons, and more -- filled with the image of a ... creature that many immediately thought looked like a fantasy being, perhaps an elf. After a moment, she or it began speaking; regardless of where in the world any particular Human Being was, more than 97% of those listening to the message heard the alien speaking in their language. (It would later be discovered that the alien's transmission detected the individual electronic device's chosen language and would automatically translate to that language.)

The message was simple and direct: "Greetings to the people of Earth. I am Valla, leader of the Troyna. We are a race of people from a distant world who provide protection for and guidance to the populations of hundreds of worlds across the galaxy.

"We have been monitoring your planet, your people, and your problems for quite some time. Planet Earth is a very special place, one in a billion worlds ... a place capable of supporting life for such a length of time as to lead to an intelligent species capable of achieving great wonders..."

Valla's expression had appeared polite and friendly until now, with a slight smile and kind tone. Now, though, all sense of friendliness faded. She continued, "...and potentially horrific threats. I speak specifically of two things: the vast number of atomic weapons kept by a small number of nations ... and the overpopulation of your planet by Human Beings.

"These weapons present a threat that becomes more and more likely to be used with each passing day ... because of the planet's overpopulation." For anyone confused about the seemingly unrelated topics -- too many nukes and too many people -- the connection had been made.

"We, the Troyna, are here to guide the Human Race in solving the problems and terrors facing it ... for the betterment of Planet Earth.

"We will do this by, first, peacefully rendering your atomic weapons useless," she continued. "Second, we will provide your race with new technologies and ways of thinking that will provide immediate betterment.

"And finally, we will begin the orderly removal of half of Earth's population to other planets capable of supporting them, worlds where they will live better lives and, at the same time, play a crucial part in the survival of their former home planet ... simply by no longer being upon it."

Then, with another slight smile, Valla's image faded away, with the billions of screens returning to their previous programming or simply going black.

..............................................
​

As Valla was addressing the people across the globe, hundreds of vessels no larger than a railway box car disengaged from the Mother Ship and rocketed away in every direction. In the skies over the United States, Russia, China, and every other nuclear power; as well as over the seas in which hid submarines and ships carrying nuclear weapons, these attack craft used a unique weapon to laser atomic weapons, rendering their nuclear or plutonium cores as dangerous as plum pudding.

Most of the nuclear powers, fearful of suddenly finding themselves denied their most powerful weapons, sent missiles and aircraft into the air to stop the alien attack craft. They would fail in every circumstance ... except for one.

 

[desperado1089]

Major Alex Stewart, USAF, had been in the air almost constantly since the alien mothership appeared in orbit. Movies from 40 years prior about large alien vessels raining fire on LA, New York City and Washington DC, only to be defeated by Jeff Goldblum and a computer virus that defied logic as to its compatibility with the alien networks, was fresh in the minds of both those who had seen it for the first time when it came out and those who saw it on Blu-Ray. Alex was among the latter crowd, and the first film and its two subsequent sequels (the third film in the franchise had somehow brought back Will Smith's character, at which point Alex just turned it off and decided to return to it later) had been on Alex's shelf for a while.

But this wasn't a movie, and it wasn't gonna be solved with a computer virus, even though some of the eggheads were trying just such a thing. The Space Force had been disbanded just a year prior after Donald Trump was sentenced to life in prison, only for the FSB to poison him and several of his former Cabinet members and two Supreme Court justices a month later. The Space Force's former assets were folded back into the Air Force and NASA, where they belonged. The justices were replaced by liberal ones, and whatever damage wrought by the previous occupant of the Oval Office that had not already been repaired was quickly reversed. The brain drain in the American scientific community had been plugged and once again, the country was on a forward trajectory. Things were finally starting to settle down when aliens decided to visit.

He was flying over the Pacific, on a long patrol route off the California coast when the aliens sent a transmission. Like most of Earth's population, he listened to it and privately thought that we could do without so many people as well as so many nukes. His F-44 fighter-interceptor was leaps and bounds ahead of the F-22. It was technically an updated version, with the same airframe and general appearance. But enough had been altered internally, including engines that were capable of twice the speed and a one-and-a-half times tighter turning radius, AI-assisted targeting and ECM, and more, that the Air Force decided it merited being called an entirely new aircraft.

When the transmission ended, Alex's radar lit up just as his wingman, Captain Steve Duncan, came over the radio. "Bogey coming in from on high, Fairchild is saying it's from the mothership. We are cleared to engage, Sir. Its target is a Columbia-class a hundred miles from our twenty." Alex flipped his mic switch to respond. "Roger that, Captain," Alex said as the screen in his cockpit displayed a message from base confirming this. Suddenly a high-pitched whine could be heard as the alien craft shot between them on a steep dive, and Alex followed. The alien pulled out of the dive and executed a brazen series of maneuvers that Alex followed as best he could. "Damn, he's fast," his wingman gasped, the other aircraft keeping a wide perimeter in case Alex couldn't get the kill or other aliens showed up. "Who says...it's a he?", Alex grunted through the G-forces as he kept trying to get a lock, remembering vividly the striking image of the alien leader. "Good point," Duncan conceded. "Fuck this," Alex grunted as he opened fire with his Vulcan cannon, the rounds bouncing off of some kinda energy shield. "Where's Jeff Goldblum when ya need him?", Alex grunted as he finally got a lock and yelled, "Fox Two!", just before he launched the missile. But the alien ship executed a mind-bending turn and the missile exploded less than fifty feet from Alex's aircraft as the alien flew straight overhead towards his six. At that range, it was like his plane got a punch to the gut and it wasn't gonna recover in time. "Fuck! Back to base, Duncan! That's an order!", he shouted over the radio just before he ejected.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

A few minutes before the above post:

Valla was sitting in the Mothership's Command Center in what might be thought of as a throne. The Command Center resembled NASA's Houston Mission Control, with a massive monitoring screen on the wall surrounded by 100 other smaller ones.

Each screen represented the view from a Troyna attack vessels that was on its way toward the location of an atomic weapon, be it an ICBM in a silo or on a mobile trailer; a missile in a submerged boomer; or any other form of atomic weapon.

Spread throughout the Command Center were 100 Monitoring Stations, each manned by an Operator who was in direct contact with the crew of one of the Attack Vessels.

An Officer turned to Valla, bowed, rose again, and reported, "All vessels are in position, My Queen. May we proceed?"

"Proceed, Admiral," Valla responded without hesitation.

The Officer turned and gave the command: "Proceed!"

Almost immediately, the views on the screens altered, indicating the diving action of the Attack Vessels toward Earth's land or sea. In less than three minutes, the relative calm of the Command Center exploded in a din of Operators' voices as they conversed with the individual crews who were now using their weapons to eliminate atomic weapons from Earth.

The weapon the AV's deployed might be termed a laser by Humans, but it was actually far more technologically advanced than that. It instantly turned fissile material -- uranium and plutonium in particular -- into heavy balls of inert material; those cores essentially became little more than very heavy paper weights.

The weapon didn't require line of sight to work, so it destroyed atomic weapons beyond thick steel, under deep ocean waters, or even buried under hundreds of feet of the rock and dirt of mountains.

The Attack Vessels themselves were the most advanced fighting vehicles likely ever made anywhere in the galaxy, with better speed, maneuverability, shielding, and offensive capabilities than any aircraft the Human Race had ever dreamed of, let alone created.

Over the two-hour attack to come, not a single Troyna Attack Vessel would be shot down by a Human weapon. 3 of the 120 AVs would experience mechanical failure and subsequently crash, though; the crews of two of these would be rescued alive, though, the crew of the third would perish when their tumbling vessel struck the ground and exploded. Search and Rescue Squads -- 6 craft each, providing both rescue and defense -- would be dispatched to all three locations.

When the last known atomic weapon was thought to have been destroyed, 116 of the original 120 Attack Vessels began the trek back to the Mothership. Between them, they'd destroyed more than 15,000 nuclear warheads spread -- often hidden -- across the planet.

Valla had been monitoring the unfolding battle closely when she realized that one Monitoring Operator was indicating an issue. She called to the Command Center's most senior officer, "Admiral ... what is happening?"

The Admiral explained, "One of our AVs engaged with a Human aircraft and was damaged. The pilot is recommending that she scuttle the vessel in the Pacific Ocean and await Search and Rescue."

Valla didn't really need to give permission for such a mission, but the Admiral still sought her opinion. After she gave it -- "Scuttle the AV, and send Search and Rescue" -- and he gave orders, she asked, "Admiral, did this Human aircraft directly damage our AV?"

The Admiral confirmed, saying, "They engaged in aerial combat, My Queen. The Human aircraft released a missile, which seems to have damaged our Vessel.

Valla ordered, "Show it to me, Admiral."

The Admiral passed the order to the Monitoring Officer, who replayed the battle on the Main Viewer from the POV of the AV's many AI-supported cameras. The scene didn't begin with any excitement; the AV was simply diving toward the ocean below, starting its decent at more than 70,000 feet as indicated on the HUD feed from the AV to the Main Viewer.

Two small dark points seemed to quickly grow before the AV; by the time anyone in the Command Center realized that they were looking at Human fighter aircraft, their own Attack Vessel had passed directly between them at more than Mach 6. One of the AI-supported camera views shown on the monitors was from the rear of the AV; it showed the Human aircraft wobbling about dangerously from the shock wave of the alien craft.

The Human aircraft made chase, not that that could easily be seen with the distance between the aircraft so distant. But as the AV reduced speed and performed some maneuvers keeping it in a single area to conduct its attack on a submerged submarine, the American jets caught up and fired on the AV. The bullets harmlessly vaporized against the AV's electronic shield.

The excitement in the Command Center rose as an aerial battle erupted. The shifting views on the Main Viewer and other Monitors had some of the Troyna getting dizzy; staff begin cheering each time the Human aircraft got behind the AV for an offensive attack, only to be shed by the alien vessel's greater maneuverability.

Suddenly, a ball of fire began heading for the AV, a weapon that even Valla understood to be a rocket propelled missile. Without realizing she was doing it, she began calling out moves to the unhearing pilot, telling him to dive, climb, roll, and more. She'd never been a pilot, of course -- she was Royalty, after all, not Military -- but she knew enough about aerobatic maneuvering to at the least use the words right.

Suddenly, the alien craft performed what a Human would have called an Immelmann turn; it pulled up hard until it was heading back the direction from which had come, now upside down; it rolled to an upright orientation; and shot straight back toward the F-44 chasing it. The maneuver caused the pilot to experience a 12-G turn, something that would have killed a Human and yet --because of their highly advanced flight and bio-technology -- felt no worse to the Troyna pilot than a head rush from standing too quickly.

The missile that had been chasing the alien ship had turned as well, still following it ... also heading right back toward the aircraft that had fired it.

The AV zipped past the Human vehicle, missing it by less than 50 feet. At was at that same distance from the F-44's that its missile exploded, punching holes through its exterior, its motor, and some vital controls. Valla watched with great interest as the Human ejected from his plane, a parachute opening above him and dropping him slowly toward the ocean below.

"I want that Human!" Valla demanded before she even thought about what she was saying. The Admiral looked to her with surprise, confusing shock even. But she repeated with added emphasis, "I want that Human! Send our Search and Rescue to collect him from the sea!" She looked to the Admiral. "We're already sending an S&R Squad to collect our own people, yes? Get him, too!"

The Admiral hesitated a moment but then turned and passed on the order. Knowing now that the remaining 116 Attack Vessels were all inbound, she asked the General from the Intelligence Bureau, "Success? Did we get them all?"

"Indications are that we destroyed at least 98% of the Human's atomic weapons," the man said. "We'll get the rest after we refuel the AVs and get back out there." He smiled with pride, finishing, "Mission accomplished, My Queen."

Valla returned his smile, gave orders for her to be retrieved when the Human was aboard, and departed for her quarters. She thought to herself as she went, Now, on to Stage Two.

She was, of course, thinking of the emigration of 4 billion Human Beings to other habitable planets.

 

[desperado1089]

As Alex hit the icy waters of the Pacific and surfaced with a racking cough a few moments later thanks to his flotation device, he couldn't help but be somewhat relieved that the alien craft didn't immediately explode when the missile detonated. Orders to fight back notwithstanding, he thought that the Troyna were doing humanity a favor by ridding their little blue ball of rock of the specter of mutually-assured destruction, hopefully forever. So it was with concern that he saw the same craft drop towards the same waters he was bobbing about in, only to break the surface some hundred meters from his location. Heedless of whether or not the craft would sink, he waited for the brief swell of waves caused by the impact to pass over him before he began to swim towards the ship.

"Hello?", he shouted when he was close enough to reach out and touch the hull, instead using the butt of his pistol, which was waterlogged and likely useless anyway, to knock on the hull. "Are you all right?" He had no idea if the alien inside was capable of speaking English, or if any translator devices were working, but he couldn't just leave them there. He looked up at the sky, and just whispered, "Hurry up, Valla. We might end up freezing to death. Not a great first impression, eh?" He chuckled but it turned into a bone-shaking shiver. He released his handgun, letting it sink to the icy depths below him, before he pulled out his flare gun and fired it skyward, hoping that either human or alien rescue crews were able to see it.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

The Pacific Ocean, 600 miles west of the coast of Southern Washington:

It was several minutes after the Troyna Attack Vessel hit the surface of the Pacific before the Pilot, Dyah, regained consciousness. She was still safely buckled into her seat, but she was dangling upside down; the AV had nosed into the water when it hit and flipped onto it top.

Dyah called out to the other crew members but got no response. She grasped a safety handrail and unbuckled, dropping and dangling there in the air like a monkey on a tree branch. She dropped to the vessel's ceiling and hurried to check the others. She was horrified to learn that of the five crew members, she was the only one to survive.

She tried to contact the Mothership to no avail. The transponder was working, though, which meant that Search & Rescue could find her. The windows of the craft were mostly below the surface of the ocean; she only got quick glimpses of the sea, and all that she saw was water.

Then, there was a heavy knocking sound on the hull, followed by a Human calling out, "Hello?"

Dyah didn't speak any Human languages, of course; AV crews had never been intended to interact with Human Beings, let alone hold conversations with them.

He knocked hard on the hull again, asking, "Are you all right?"

Through the gentle splashing of the sea against the hull, Dyah thought maybe she heard the man talking to a second person; she couldn't know he was talking to himself. A moment later, she heard a pop sound and feared the man was trying to get inside.

Self-preservation kicked in suddenly. Dyah carefully walked about the cabin, searching; with the vessel upside down, the interior suddenly seemed strangely foreign to her. It took a while to find the cabinet for which she was searching and the item within it: a pistol. Once armed, Dyah took another long moment to consider her next move. Looking straight up, she saw the emergency escape hatch and smiled.

It took a bit of maneuvering with her world topsy turvy, but she managed to get up to the hatch, get it open, and get out through it. She moved slowly, cautiously; the Human was out here somewhere, and for all Dyah knew, he, too, was armed.

As she was looking for him, she began to find herself in awe of what surrounded her. As far as the eye could see was just water; the sea wasn't glassy nor was it rough, with small swells but only a few white caps. Dyah had seen still and moving images of Earth's oceans during her training, of course, but to see it firsthand like this was overwhelming.

A long moment passed with her just staring out over the water before Dyah caught movement close by to her left. She spun that way, raising the pistol and -- without meaning to -- pulled the trigger; it was the Troyna equivalent to a small caliber, semi-automatic Earth pistol. After the explosion, there was a metalic ding where the bullet hit the hull.

He reacted as was his nature. Dyah reacted by hers, panicking and holding the weapon out to her side in one hand as the other hand lifted in a sort of surrender gesture that, ironically, was common between the two races. She started rambling to the man in her own language, not really thinking about the fact that he wouldn't understand her: "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! You scared me! I'm sorry!"

Dyah looked to the gun again, then tossed it away as if it was on fire. It clanked across the hull of the overturned ship before splashing into the sea. She looked back to the Human again, simply staring at him silently. She began to feel a little lightheaded, believing it was shock from all that was happening about her. Then, looking down and pulling upon her jacket, Dyah found a red blotch of blood spreading across her uniform blouse; the bullet had fragmented when it hit the hull, and a portion of it had ricocheted back, striking her where -- like in humans, coincidentally -- her liver was located.

She became weak kneed, dropped to her knees, and then to her side. Dyah rolled to her back, looking up into the clear, blue sky, where she caught sight of the first of the six S&R Squad ships as it circled and prepared to hover over the AV for an air rescue.

 

[desperado1089]

Alex was unarmed as the alien pilot fired at him, and he instinctively ducked down below the water even though the round missed. When she started to talk in her language, he waved the flare gun, then pointed towards the bright distress signal above them, then opened the breech to show that the casing that was there was not going to do anything. He set the distress signaling device down gently on the hull, even though it slid into the water a moment later. "I'm not gonna hurt you," he said in a calm voice, even though he knew she couldn't understand him. Alex kept his arms up and palms facing the alien pilot, trusting his flotation device would keep him from sinking.

When the pilot realized she was bleeding, however, he scrambled up onto the hull and caught her before she could hit the metallic skin of the craft. "Welcome to Earth," he joked before detaching a small first-aid kit from his survival vest even as the alien rescue squad arrived. He applied bandages and tried to stop the bleeding, hoping that their biology was similar enough to that of humans that applying pressure would work. The bright red cross symbol on the pouch was facing upward as he worked on the alien's injury even as he was shivering violently and the first alien search and rescue team members were descending towards them.

They seemed to understand he was trying to help her, which explained why one of them gently laid a hand on his shoulder and said, through a translator, "Thank you, but we will take care of her now." Another draped a blanket across his shoulders that immediately siphoned the water from his clothing and gear before warming him through. The rest descended into the ship and retrieved the bodies of the remaining crew. Alex hung his head. "You were only trying to help us, save us from ourselves. If I had not followed my orders, others would have done the same, and not with as much regret." He reached out and touched the shoulder of one of the fallen aliens. "I am so sorry that relations between us have begun with death. What do you intend to do with me?"

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Dyah's view of the blue sky was replaced by the face of the alien ... the Human. She'd seen still images and moving recordings of them in her training, of course, but until now she'd never been in physical proximity of one.

She'd always been intrigued by how Human Beings varied so greatly in appearance. They came in different colors and even different shades of those colors; they were tall and short and skinny and fat; they had different eye and hair colors and sometimes even changed them with -- respectively -- lenses and dyes.

The Troyna, on the other hand, were all so very similar in appearance that Humans would find it hard to tell one from the other, gender set aside, of course. Dyah wouldn't be surprised if this Human pilot thought he was treating wounds of the Queen herself.

Queen Valla was considered a perfect example of Troyna femininity. She had perfect skin, perfect hair, and a perfect body shape. Dyah, on the other hand -- despite looking so similar to her Queen -- was considered quite average. She was half an inch shorter than Valla; half a pound heavier; and a shade lighter in skin color, something that would require a Human to use a Spectrometer to determine but which another Troyna could easily determine with one look.

There were more obvious differences, though. Dyah wore her hair very short as per military standards; it was the exact deep, luscious black, though. And Dyah wore no facial or temple decorations, as those were only for the Upper Class and Royalty.

And there were Dyah's neck tattoos. The three, thin, four-inch-long, black lines that ran parallel to each other on each side of her neck identified her as being from the Military Class. It was a designation of honor, inherited through her father's honorable service. Such markings demanded respect from the other classes; even the Upper Class and Royalty offered the appropriate level of honor and respect.

Again, the Human spoke without Dyah understanding him: "I'm not gonna hurt you."

There was something soft and soothing in his voice that caused Dyah to smile a bit. Or maybe it was just the incredible nature of the moment, combined with her spinning head. He began tending to her wound; pain shot through her torso, and although she grimaced and cried soft and short, she somehow knew that he was only trying to help her. He spoke again: "Welcome to Earth."

Meekly, Dyah repeated one of his words: "Earth..."

That was a word that she did understand in his language. English her brain reminded her. He speaks English. Her mission training had included knowledge of the primary languages of the nations near the West Coast of North America. The chief one was English, followed by Spanish. Russian had been mentioned, too, because some of the submarines hidden in the deep waters off the coast of North America were from the nation that spoke that language.

As he applied bandages and did what he could to stem the bleeding, the Troyna crew member struggled to lift a hand, tapped a fingertip on her chest, and murmured, "Dy ... ah. Dyah."

A moment later, she passed out.

Less than two minutes later, the Search & Rescue teams reached the pair. The first four ships that had arrived were there to secure the sight; they hovered at various distances, from a hundred yards to three miles. The other two, though, were specifically there to conduct the rescue. Hovering just 50 yards from the downed AV and 10 feet above the surface, they dropped boats that were very similar to the RHIBs -- Rigid Hull Inflatable Boats -- that many Earth militaries used. They weren't powered by outboard motors, though, instead having massive fan motors in the rear like seen in the swamp of the United States's southern states.

In no time at all, they had reached the downed vessel, and the crews were unloading onto it. They included both male and female Troyna. As with the females of their species, the males were all very similar in appearance. They had the same skin color as the females, with the same differences in shade of color that only they could easily discern; their hair was jet black and worn short and close, rather similar to how American soldiers or marines wore their own; the ones carrying guns bore the same neck tattoos as did Dyah, while the Medics' necks were bare. Again, they all had very similar body styles, though the gun-toting Military Troyna appeared to be more muscular in size, a result it might appear of training, not genetics.

The first men off the RIBs bore weapons, which they pointed at the Human as they took up positions around him. But like Dyah, they sensed that he was trying to help their comrade and didn't snatch or restrain him but instead simply took his place caring for the injured woman.

One of the S&R Medics -- Alex would later learn that his name was Pran Torka -- spoke in his language, the words translated from a speaker on his chest plate with just a second's delay: "Thank you, but we will take care of her now."

They took care of the Human, as well, drying him out and heating him up. As they loaded Dyah onto a stretcher, attaching fluid infusion devices to her arm and monitors to her forehead and neck, other Troyna descended into the ship to check for other survivors. They found none, instead only respectfully retrieving dead bodies.

"You were only trying to help us, save us from ourselves," the Human told Pran. "If I had not followed my orders, others would have done the same, and not with as much regret."

The Troyna who'd taken charge in watching over the Human listened to the translations in his helmet's earpiece and donned a confused expression. He didn't understand fully understand the meaning.

"I am so sorry that relations between us have begun with death," the Human continued.

That the Troyna officer did understand. Hoping to alleviate the Human's regret for having shot down the AV, he spoke in his own language again, the translation coming out: "The warrior is seldom responsible for the horrors he commits."

"What do you intend to do with me?" the Human asked.

"You have been invited to appear before My Queen," the Troyna Officer's translator passed on. He offered out a hand to the Human to help him to his feet. "Have no fear. You are not being taken into custody. You are not a hostage or prisoner of war. You are an honored guest, and you will be returned to your people at the time of your request."

By now, Dyah -- with the Medic Pran in charge of her -- was already being whisked off toward the nearest of the hovering ships. A third ship had come closer and dispatched a boat, this one with only the driver aboard. When it arrived, the Troyna still aboard the overturned AV would load the bodies for their return to the Mothership.

The Officer who'd been dealing with Alex jumped down into the remaining boat, his steadiness aided by another Troyna. Both men stretched out hands in offer to the Human, expecting him to come of his free will.

 

[desperado1089]

Alex gratefully accepted the offer to meet with the Queen. "My rank and name is Major Alex Stewart, and it would be my honor to meet your Queen. I regret not packing my dress uniform," he said, helplessly tugging at his flight suit with a sheepish sort of grin. "That's a more formal type of uniform, unlike what you see here, which is more designed for combat," he explained. "Will Dyah be all right?", he asked as he climbed into the boat. "And, if you wouldn't mind, please tell me how you disabled the nuclear weapons. Did it cause harm to anyone or anything near?" He hoped the answer was in the negative, as it would align with the aliens' apparently benevolent intentions. An affirmative answer would almost certainly put a damper on how he was beginning to appreciate their presence, as much as it shook things up.

Almost as if answering his question for him, the submarine that had been the target of the alien craft surfaced from the ocean and hatches opened where men with guns poured out and began to point them at the Troyna. "Stand down, you stupid squids! They're not forcing me to come with them!", Alex shouted, thankfully loud enough to hear. A confused murmur rose up among them as he said to the Troyna officer, "Please excuse them, they spend all their time underwater and lack appreciation for us surface folk." His grin faded when he saw the confused look on the officer's face. "It's a joke among my nation's military, I'll explain later." He turned towards the sub which was inching closer. "Get outta here, you're making them nervous, and you don't wanna try and fight them anyway. Plus, if they wanted us dead, we would be." That seemed to spur them to get back in the sub and depart.

"Right, then, they'll likely go and tell my superiors that I will not be headed back until my visit with your Queen has concluded. Shall we?", he asked the Troyna officer, gesturing towards the search and rescue craft.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

"My rank and name is Major Alex Stewart," the Human informed his rescuers, adding, "and it would be my honor to meet your Queen."

He continued with a grin, "I regret not packing my dress uniform."

As Alex spoke more about his meaning, the Troyna officer offered his hand, saying, "I am Pran Torka." He looked to his hand as Alex took it, asking via translator, "I am doing this correctly, yes...? Handshake?"

He listened to Alex's response, then continued, "My rank, as I understand your military hierarchy, is equivalent to a Lieutenant or perhaps a Captain." He laughed, continuing, "I'm sorry. I am not well educated in such things."

"Will Dyah be all right?" Alex asked, climbing into the hybrid RHIB/airboat.

"She will be fine," Pran said. He smiled to Alex, adding, "You may have saved her life ... prevented her from bleeding to death."

The driver of the boat, completed spinning it toward the hovering shuttle craft and accelerated. Over the nose of the motor and air blades, Alex asked, "And, if you wouldn't mind, please tell me how you disabled the nuclear weapons. Did it cause harm to anyone or anything near?"

"Few if any Human lives should have been lost during our operation to rid your planet of atomic weapons," Pran said; his response sounded as if it had been written by a Troyna from community relations or something equivalent. "We lost three Attack Vessels--" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the one floating a bit lower than originally in the ocean as it was ever so slowly filling with sea water. "That was the fourth, I believe. In all, 19 Troyna gave their lives for this worthy cause. They will be missed and honored--"

"Pran!" one of the Troyna on the boat hollered as he tapped his helmet, indicating incoming communications.

Pran turned his radio back on -- he'd turned if off during the first aid efforts -- and listened in on the voices of several Troyna, the voices sometimes talking over one another. The shuttle they'd been heading for suddenly shot almost entirely vertical, increasing its altitude from just 30 feet to 1,000 in seconds, while the shuttles providing defensive cover began moving all about, too, not wanting to be stationary targets.

The driver slowed the boat, then killed the engine as he searched the water before them for something. Suddenly, the nose of the Columbia class submarine that had been one of the targets of Dyah's Attack Vessel burst through the surface as it completed an emergency blow. Pran had studied submarines as part of his military training, of course, but he'd never seen moving images of something that was both so spectacular and so frightening at the same time.

Being part of the Medical Team, not the armed protection team, he had no standing in how the S&R Squad was supposed to respond to this event; all he could do was sit there and watch as the sub leveled out on the surface and the Troya Military Command decided if something was supposed to be done about it.

Just to make conversation, he leaned closer to Alex, tapped his helmet in the hopes that he would understand that he was indicating the voices in his ear, and said, "Central Command is telling our forces to stand down ... to remain peaceful. I believe Humans have a saying in their Militaries: Do not fire unless fired upon...? Only, Central is telling our craft to evacuate the area, not fire ... even if fired upon."

Soon, hatches opened on the sub and armed men emerged. Pran could feel his hearts -- yes, plural -- pounding hard; he'd never faced a real danger of death at the hands of an enemy before now, and he could only hope that he would return to the Mothership to see his wife and child again.

The men on the sub's deck -- Is it called a deck on a submarine? he wondered -- began calling toward the boat and, more likely, to the human sitting in it. Pran's translator couldn't pick up their voices good enough to do its work.

"Stand down, you stupid squids!" Alex hollered over the water. "They're not forcing me to come with them!"

Those words did translate, and Pran suddenly realized what the other Human's concerns were. More words were shared, between the men on the sub's top and the men and Alex. Alex tried to excuse the actions of the other Humans, only confusing Pran. He promised, "I'll explain later."

"I would like that, Alex," Pran said. From the moment he'd learned from Central Command that they were going to rescue a Human Being, Pran had been hopeful that he'd have an opportunity to meet and become familiar with this Human.

Alex continued warning the submarine's crew off, saying, "...if they wanted us dead, we would be."

Pran watched in silence as the men on the submarine conversed, and only when the men began to disappear back into the big metal tube, did he begin to relax.

Alex concluded the exciting and frightful event by looking at Pran and asking, "Shall we?"

The Troyna couldn't help but laugh as he raised both fists toward his chest and pounded it on softly; to the Human, it might have appeared like Tarzan beating his chest, but in reality it was just a comical way Troyna's indicated that their dual hearts were beating hard in their chest. The boat's pilot, receiving orders over his Comms, fired up the engine, heading toward the rendezvous with the slowly dropping S&R shuttle.

A few minutes later, they were loaded up and again rising into the air. The Shuttle was a rocket propelled, vertical lift vehicle, and after it had reached 2,000 feet, its nose dipped and it began shooting forward. Pran heard a comment in his ear and gestured for Alex to look out the window. Far below them, the overturned AV was just a shiny spot on the gray-blue sea until suddenly it became an explosive flash.

"It is our Military's policy not to permit other Peoples from gaining access to our technology," Pran explained. "One day soon, though ... when the Troyna and Humans have built a strong and lasting friendship..." He paused a moment, smiling, and added with an exciting smile, "Maybe one day you will be able to fly a Troyna Attack Fighter or Search and Rescue Shuttle."

The Shuttle suddenly shot forward, pushing all of its occupants back into their seats. For the next several minutes, hydrogen and oxygen were collected from the air passing through special ports in the front of the Shuttle until the holding tanks were filled. A Troyna male spoke over a speaker, leading Pran to smile again and say, "Hold onto your balls." He laughed, asking, "Is that right...? Did I say that right?"

Suddenly, the Shuttle shot forward with incredible acceleration, the G-forces pushing Troyna and Human alike back into their seats almost to the point of passing out. After a few minutes, the craft's nose rose upward, and a couple of minutes after that, the blue, then white of Earth's atmosphere outside the window to Alex's left disappeared as the Shuttle entered space.

A few more minutes passed before the powerful rockets went silent. Pran looked to Alex, smiled, and through his translator said, "Welcome to space." Around them, things that hadn't been properly stored began floating in the Zero G. Pran informed Alex, "We're not supposed to unbuckle ... but ... if you promised to be cautious, you could ... and you could float around." He laughed, somewhat nervously, and explained, "I'm sorry. I am presuming that you've never been in space before."

 

[desperado1089]

Alex did indeed shake the Pran's hand, adding, "My rank of major would put me above yours in the military of the United States and our allies, plus many of our adversaries use similar terms, when they are translated." He smiled and said, "Don't worry, I can probably tell you more than you ever wanted to know about what rank goes where and how they call it something completely different in the Navy and Coast Guard, and don't even get me started on how they break down their enlisted ranks." Torka might have noticed the oak leaf embroidered on the shoulders of his flight suit, visible when his survival vest shifted. He would love to spend hours talking to this man and to Dyah when she had recovered from her ordeal, about the similarities and differences between their respective militaries.

When the sub surfaced and broke the relative calm of the situation, Alex did handle things as he felt necessary, adding the branch-specific insult as an admonishment rather than anything overtly hostile. When Torka asked him about their military's policy regarding rules of engagement, he answered with, "Yes, I can safely say that the US and NATO follow that policy almost religiously. Russia, China and others...not so much. And keep in mind, we already sort of violated that policy when we intercepted your attack craft, so I understand your concern."

When the sub had departed and they were once again under way, Alex explained that other than the small arms the Sailors had brandished, the submarine had limited capability to harm them, except for torpedoes. "However," he had said, "subs can't launch torpedoes at such a short range." He didn't add that the greatest danger from the submarine was, in his opinion, to Dyah's crippled craft when the sub was still a fair distance away. Thanking the gods that nothing happened, he chuckled at the way Torka softly thumped his chest. "Yeah, that was tense," he agreed, thumping his own chest with one fist the same way. "Do Troyna have two hearts?", he asked, gesturing towards the Pran's chest as they boarded the shuttle at long last.

When they saw the attack craft explode, Alex nodded somberly. "A wise policy. As your actions today demonstrated you are aware of, we hardly know how to responsibly use our own technology." When Torka went on to suggest Alex could one day fly one of those things, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Are you serious? That would be amazing. But, some modifications might need to be made, depending on if the occupants are fully subjected to the G-forces or if there's some kind of inertial damper like in much of our science fiction. And if Dyah is still a pilot by then, I'd love for her to teach me."

When the shuttle began to shoot forward in earnest, Alex let out an excited whoop. "Yeah, you got it right, although don't say anything like that in the company of the President!", he chuckled. "But if you get to meet her husband, he'd love how you guys learned that all on your own." When they escaped the pull of Earth's gravity and Torka said he could unbuckle, he adopted an expression of mock indignation. "Such a preposterous presumption you make, sir!" But the grin he flashed a moment later would have taken care of any sarcasm the translator didn't pick up. Alex did indeed unbuckle and gently push off of the seat to float around the cabin. It took him some getting used to, but he eventually got the hang of it. "Too small for artificial gravity?", he asked, "or have you not invented it?" Torka gestured out the forward viewport, past the pilots who were talking quietly on their comms, towards the mothership. "Too small," he confirmed, "but our main ship is equipped with it on all decks. Perhaps one day we will be able to install it on our shuttles." Alex nodded as he braced himself against the edge of the pilot's compartment as he gazed upon the massive vessel. "She's a very, very impressive ship," he whispered. "We have a few others like it, ones we have employed when encountering worlds like yours. Teetering on the brink of self-annihilation, many of them are now strong allies of ours and of each other. Two civilizations decided that their weapons of mass destruction should be used to attempt to drive us off. I am sad to say that they succeeded. Up until that point, our dreadnoughts, for want of a better word, lacked defensive shields, as our goal was always to help those who required it. They had no chance against nuclear warheads. Later, when we responded in force, intending to neutralize those weapons no matter how many casualties occurred, we discovered that they had already nearly destroyed themselves. Those who remained, understandably, rejected our assistance in both cases."

(To Be Continued)

 

[desperado1089]

Alex nodded somberly at the Pran's story while simultaneously in awe at how there were multiple civilizations out there, in the galaxy, with the same problems as Humanity. And here were the Troyna, attempting to help with those problems. It was almost too good to be true, and the shadow that flickered across Torka's features all but confirmed there was another shoe that was about to drop. "On the homeworld," the Troyna said, looking about ten years older just by his countenance, "there is a minority, a very vocal minority, who believes that Troyna should use our gifts to rule over the other races of the galaxy. To expel their representatives from our central government. To subject non-Troyna to only the most meager, dangerous, unpleasant jobs." He regarded Alex with a rueful smile as the shuttle docked with the mothership. "Surely you have ultra-nationalists on Earth?" Alex nodded. "Yeah, we just got through a particularly disastrous President who at least claimed to be one. No idea what he actually believed in, and as far as I'm concerned, that's between him and the Devil now." Torka knew this, of course, he had been briefed on the various leaders of the nuclear powers, their systems of government, the differences, the similarities. But here they had a chance to hear about all of this from an actual Human, not from intercepted military communications, ordinary media, or, in the case of Russia and China, heavily sanitized propaganda. "I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the matter. But for now, we have arrived."

If he thought it looked impressive from the outside, Alex thought the ship was even more awesome on the inside. The shuttle with Dyah aboard was already surrounded by a swarm of Troyna in white coats, no doubt doctors and medics, as the pilot was loaded onto a gurney and wheeled through a door in the shuttle day's enormous bulkhead. "I'm glad I was able to save her. Please keep me advised on her condition," he asked Torka. He was momentarily stunned at the Human's level of concern for a relative stranger, but he figured it was not something he was capable of understanding. "I will arrange it," he promised as he gestured towards the exit hatch. Alex, now under the influence of the ship's artificial gravity, exited the shuttle a little unsteadily, but recovered quickly. He glanced over at what was a sadly ubiquitous sight no matter what race you were: a series of coffins whose numbers were added to with the arrival of the fallen Troyna from Dyah's AV.

Alex was pulled from his reverie by Torka laying a hand on his shoulder. "If all Humans are as compassionate as you, we will get along splendidly." Alex nodded, and said, "We aren't all like that. But I think enough of us are to make a difference." The two made their way into the ship proper, Alex's amazement increasing with every step he took. The Troyna could scarcely avoid stopping and staring as he walked by, with one of the marines from the S&R unit falling into step on Alex's other side, now divested of all his armaments save for a holstered sidearm that looked to be of a heavier caliber than the weapon that accidentally injured Dyah. They stopped beside a door which Torka opened.

"We have prepared guest quarters for you. We regrettably could not fashion an Air Force dress uniform in such short order, but I believe what we have provided will be sufficient. There is a panel in the main room and one in the restroom if you require assistance. You are not a prisoner here, but we do advise you to take care and allow either myself or Pran Jalla to ensure you remain unharmed," Torka said, gesturing towards the marine, who saluted Alex in a rather Earth-like fashion. He returned it smartly, and Alex said, "At ease, Marine," at which point Jalla took position opposite the door panel in the corridor, hands clasped behind his back. "Thanks, both of you. I shouldn't be long getting ready." Alex retreated behind the door, which hissed closed behind him much like a beloved sci-fi series with phasers, transporters and extremely logical, pointy-eared aliens.

Drawing a heavy sigh, he took off his survival vest first, hanging it on a hook that was mounted beside the door. The only weapon that remained on it was a combat knife, which he unclipped and regarded for a moment before he tossed it on the bed, where it landed next to a navy blue suit of some kind. Preferring to take a shower before he evaluated the efficacy of Troyna tailors any further, he started towards the head only to stop and stare out the window. They were currently orbiting over Asia, and it was one of the most impressive sights he had ever seen. At least, it was until he could just barely make out five objects that looked like tiny dots with slightly less tiny smoke trails inch slowly closer from the direction of Russia and China. Perhaps the Troyna didn't get them all, or perhaps the Russians and Chinese didn't believe their most destructive weapons were little more than extremely expensive paperweights now. At any rate, he considered warning the Troyna, but there was no way they didn't detect the launches.

Indeed, five attack vessels streaked towards the ICBMs a moment later. Three of them seemed to home in closer to three of the missiles, and then break off a moment later; the remaining two hung back. Presumably, two of the missiles were already inert, and the other three were still active. None of them were there a moment later as the mothership's gun batteries opened fire with soft thump noises that barely registered in Alex's ears. With the assurance that the Troyna would not fall victim to a nuclear attack while he was in the shower, he stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Emerging with a towel around his waist, he contemplated the clothing on offer. He quickly slipped into the provided undergarments, a form-fitting pair of what felt like Under Armor boxer briefs. The suit jacket was cut in a rather odd way, the white shirt sporting a collar that he'd seen in Chinese movies, he thought they were called Mao suits? Regardless, he slipped into the shirt, pants and shoes, all of which fit extremely well, and he was just contemplating whether or not he would need that dagger when a chime sounded from the door. "Come in!", he called, and the door opened to admit Torka. The medic came in and drew himself up to his full height and said, in a rather ceremonial way, "The Queen is ready for you, Major Stewart." He was no longer wearing combat armor, but he did wear an earpiece not unlike a Bluetooth headset and a small speaker was attached to his uniform. Pulling on the suit jacket and straightening it out, Alex said, "Lead the way," pointedly leaving the dagger where it lay.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Aboard the Mothership:

A soft tone sounded in Valla's private quarters. She called out, "Enter."

Her Personal Aide entered, reporting, "The Human has arrived, My Queen."

"Are his chambers arranged," Valla asked. The Aide answered in the positive. Valla followed up, "And appropriate clothing?"

The Aide pulled a device about the size of an iPhone from a holder on her hip and tapped upon it quickly. A hologram of the clothing awaiting Alex in his guest room appeared between them in full size, slowly turning for Valla's viewing.

"We chose a casual events Diplomatic Class jacket and pants with vest, My Queen," the Aide explained. "Diplomatic Class seemed appropriate seeing how this Human is somewhat of a representative of his race."

Valla studied the hologram, then nodded her approval. She returned to the Bed Chamber Attendees who were helping her prepare for her meeting with Alex. Another knock came at the door, after which an Officer entered. He reported that five still-functional ICBMs had launched toward the Mothership, only to easily be destroyed. He asked, "Shall we take action against those responsible, My Queen?"

"Not yet," Valla answered after a moment's thought. This might present an opportunity for her to punish those who didn't see the Troyna as a benefit, but such actions could wait for now. She excused the Officer and returned to her preparations. When the Attendees were done, Valla ordered, "Fetch the Human ... if he is ready."


At Alex's Quarters:

"Come in!" the Human called from inside his Chambers when Jalla knocked on the door.

The Troyna guard assigned to Alex entered, saying, "The Queen is ready for you, Major Stewart."

"Lead the way," Alex said.

Jalla escorted Alex down a series of passageways, some of which looked out upon a large open courtyard; it had the appearance of an large shopping center's food court, and as Jalla escorted his charge, one after another of the dozens of Troyna at tables or standing about looked up at the alien that had been brought aboard.

A final passageway with high ceilings looked upon a pair of tall doors at its end. A pair of Troyna soldiers in elegant dress uniforms stood on either side of the door; they seemed to provide the same purpose as the Swiss Guard of the Vatican or the King's Guard of England. They snapped to attention at the approach of Pran and the Human and performed an about face. A moment later, the doors swung slowly away until they were fully open.

The Guards marched forward, their boot falls echoing ahead of them as Pran gestured Alex to continue. Several paces inside, the Guards stopped and stepped aside. Before Alex and Pran was the woman who'd been with Valla earlier. Pran bowed to her, then rose to say to the Human, "Major Stewart, let me introduce you to Lady Ryna, Honored Aide to Our Queen."

Ryna had the same female appearance that Dyah and Valla shared: the black hair, the unblemished gray-silver skin, the pointy ears, the petite body with forward-thrusting bosom. She wore her hair long like Valla, but like Dyah, lacked the facial and temple decorations. Her gown was similar in style to that worn by the Queen, though, far less intricate and elaborate.

Looking to Ryna, Pran continued, "Lady Ryna, let me introduce you to Major Alex Stewart of the Armed Forces of the United States of America, Honored Guest of Our Queen."

"It is a pleasure," the Aide said as she lowered her eyes and performed a deep curtsy; she had been furnished a translator, allowing Alex to understand her greeting. Standing tall again, she turned and led the pair of males deeper into the room.

Valla's quarters were vast and spectacular: the anteroom in which they were now passing was a dome shape, a hundred feet in diameter, and more than 30 feet in height. The center of the anteroom -- perhaps half the square footage -- was open; the floor was covered by an assortment of rugs that appeared to have been randomly placed rather than laid out to provide a specific walkway this way or that.

Around the periphery, thought, were dozens and dozens of objects, small and large; some of them appeared to be artwork -- statues, paintings, fiber arts -- while others, many of them on pedestals, small or large, had the look of being unique pieces of equipment. Alex couldn't know -- although he might guess it -- that each of the items was from one of the many worlds on which the Troyna had played a part, as they now were on Earth.

At the far side of the dome, the walls that encircled them for roughly 2/3 of the shape were absent, the empty space instead opening into yet another dome. This one -- nearly as round and tall -- featured a fall wall that comprised of 20-foot-high windows, beyond which was the most spectacular view of Planet Earth. At over 1,000 miles above the planet -- four times the altitude of the International Space Station -- the room had a much fuller view of the planet below, which filled the windows from left to right, floor to ceiling.

And standing near that window, awaiting her guest, was Queen Valla, wearing a smile and an elegant dress that -- arranged by two Attendees -- had a trail that fanned out behind her as if a wedding gown placed for matrimonial photos. Pran led Alex forward but indicated for him to stop when there was still 30 feet to Valla's position. He whispered, "Please wait here until I gesture you forward."

Pran continued until there were just 10 feet between him and the female and bowed deeply. He'd disengaged the Translator as he walked, and as he was still bent over, he greeted Valla without Alex understanding the words. Valla studied him for a long moment, then looked past him to the Human for another long moment. She spoke further, and Pran rose to reply. They spoke for a minute or more before Pran gestured Alex forward.

"Major Stewart, let me introduce you to Queen Valla," Pran said; the translator was on again, allowing him to understand the Troyna's words. "My Queen, let me introduce you to Major Alex Stewart of the Armed Forces of the United States of America."

 

[desperado1089]

Alex was unsure if he should bow or salute. He compromised by placing a hand upon his chest and inclining his head forward. "It is an honor to meet you, Queen Valla. Forgive me for not bowing, monarchs do not play a significant part in many governments on Earth. And I would like to express my deepest regret for my part in the deaths of Dyah's comrades. My only consolation is that Dyah herself is all right. In all my years as a pilot, I have never seen such magnificent flying. If that is considered average in your military, I positively cannot wait to see what is considered exceptional...that is, if I am not languishing in one of your prisons for killing your people, people who were undertaking a humanitarian effort at great risk to themselves. A risk I unnecessarily compounded." Alex hung his head and there it remained, hands folded before him in a gesture of contrition.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Valla could see some hesitation in the Human's face, an emotion he explained regarding his uncertainty of how to act before royalty. She understood what he meant by monarchs do not play a significant part in many governments on Earth, even if it had been the opposite for for the Troyna for their entire existence as a civilized species.

While Valla wasn't holding or wearing a translator of her own, as she began speaking in a soft volume, her words were translated for the Human with an almost imperceptible delay, the AI voice transmitting from unseen speakers that sounded as if they were right before Alex.

"You have no reason to apologize, Major Stewart," she responded simply enough.

"And I would like to express my deepest regret," Alex continued, "for my part in the deaths of Dyah's comrades."

Again, Valla told him he had no reason to apologize. "If your people had come to my planet and attacked it, even if their long-term intentions were benevolent, my people would have responded in a similar fashion."

"My only consolation is that Dyah herself is all right," he told Valla. He complimented the Attack Vessel's crew on their dogfighting skills, then spoke about his own future: "...if I am not languishing in one of your prisons for killing your people..."

When he finished, Valla smile -- which had been polite but not overly friendly so far -- spread noticeably. "You are not a prisoner or hostage, Major Stewart. You are an honored guest. I ordered my Search & Rescue personnel to rescue you to that I could meet the Human Being ... the only Human Being ... who had been so skilled in his war machine to shoot one of mine down."

 

[desperado1089]

Alex couldn't help but to match her smile. "Then I appreciate your hospitality, Queen Valla. Although I will admit, it was a combination of skill and luck that caused your ship to go down. And let's not forget that mine went down as well. So it was something of a draw." He laughed softly and said, "I saw the missiles from the window in my quarters. They looked like they came from Russia and China. In case you are not aware, their governments are autocratic and dictatorial. The actions of their ruling elite and their military often do not reflect the will of their citizens. If it seems like it does, it's only because their governments have forbidden them from voicing any dissenting opinion, and enact harsh punishments for doing so anyway. If you retaliate, please keep this in mind." Regarding Valla with a curious look, he asked, "On the subject of democracy and autocracy, how is the Queen chosen? Mr. Jalla told me about non-Troyna representatives in your central government, so is there some sort of parliament or congress in addition to yourself and any other royals?" In his estimation, he suspected the Troyna governed similarly to Great Britain, if their Prime Minister was instead an elected King or Queen, much like the home planet of a certain emperor from a beloved Earth space opera with light and dark sides. Although, Alex recalled, Naboo didn't have a parliament, now did it?

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Alex spoke of the dogfight and how Valla should not forget that he, too, was shot out of the air. She smiled at his deprecating words and tone; most pilots -- Troyna or Human -- would have looked for an excuse rather than admitting that they'd failed.

Alex said, "I saw the missiles from the window in my quarters." He explained about Russia and China, suggesting that perhaps Valla shouldn't blame the people of those countries for their leaders' actions. "If you retaliate, please keep this in mind."

"We will retaliate, Major Stewart," Valla said firmly, adding quickly, "But not in a way that will result in harm to innocent citizens. That simply is not our way."

He had brought up autocratic and dictatorial governments, which led him to ask about the Troyna, "On the subject of democracy and autocracy, how is the Queen chosen? Mr. Jalla told me about non-Troyna representatives in your central government, so is there some sort of parliament or congress in addition to yourself and any other royals?"

Valla studied Alex for a moment, then glanced to Pran with a familiar expression. He jumped in, saying, "That is the conversation that would take some time to conduct and conclude, Major Stewart. Perhaps we could save that for another time...?"

Valla looked to Pran and -- without the translator turning her Troyna into English -- asked about a word Alex had used. Pran's translator, however, was still functioning, so Alex would realize that she'd asked about the word draw. Pran's explanation included the word tie, which caused Valla to say in English, "Football!"

Pran nodded, and then seeing the reaction from Alex explained through the help of his translator, "My Queen, during her education regarding all things Human and Earthly, developed a fondness for your athletics ... sports, I believe they are called, yes? She has a particular fondness for tennis, basketball, and football--"

"Chess!" Valla cut in.

Pran smiled, continuing, "And chess ... which, like football, I understand often results in a draw ... or a tie I believe it is called."

When talking about football, Pran was, of course, speaking of the football actually played with the foot, not the one played almost exclusively in Alex's home country. Valla repeated the word football, then did her best Andrés Cantor impression by saying, "Gooooooal...!"

Pran laughed; he wouldn't normally laugh in his Queen's presence, let alone at her, but in this moment, she wasn't his Queen; she was a person having fun with something -- or someone -- new, who excited her beyond explanation.

"Al-ex," Valla said, looking to the Human with a happy smile. She cleared her throat and slowly spoke in English, "Your ... name ... is ... Al-ex. Ma-jor Al-ex..."

She donned a lost expression and looked to Pran for help. He filled in, "Stewart. Alex Stewart"

Valla smiled to him, then to Alex, finishing, "Al-ex ... Stew-art. Yes...?"

 

[desperado1089]

When Valla said that she would retaliate, he briefly saw someone who was not to be trifled with, a powerful leader of a powerful civilization. When she said that she would not harm innocent civilians, he smiled. "The United States and her allies never intentionally cause civilian casualties when conducting military operations. I am glad we have this in common. If you have been paying attention to the geopolitical situation, you surely realize that Russia and China, or more specifically their ruling elite, are not our friends. Their leaders do not believe in the same things as the US and our allies, and I would personally put them forth as the primary reason why we, as a planet, have not begun a proper process of nuclear disarmament."

The topic of the Troyna government, particularly the way that explaining it would take a while, drew a soft chuckle from Alex. "Of course, I was merely curious. We can save it for another time." The prospect of visiting them again excited the hell out of him.

Then the conversation topic became much more casual. Through his confusion at Valla's blurting out of the word "Football!", he could see her undisguised joy, her excitement. Pran's explanation was unnecessary, as he could tell just by looking at her how much she enjoyed it. When she blurted out the word "chess" he actually laughed. "Chess is more of a game than a sport; Humans typically make a distinction between the two as a sport requiring some degree of athletic prowess, and a game being any sort of friendly competition or activity between two or more people. Some games can be played by yourself. Regardless, a sport is a subset of game."

He had, of course, watched football (or as America called it, soccer) many times in some of the base mess halls he had eaten in. Alex had taken to it and one of his favorite ways to watch it was on Univision (his AP Spanish teacher would be proud). Thus, when Valla shouted, "Gooooooal!", he joined in almost immediately, and joined Pran in laughing. Then she surprised him even further. She spoke English, no translator required. He smiled warmly and said, "Yes, that's my name. But 'Major' is my military rank. So my name is Alex Stewart. What is yours? Is Valla your first or last name?" He was speaking softly, as if it were just he and Valla in the room, enjoying a private, casual conversation between friends...or perhaps even lovers.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

They spoke more about the governments of Earth, and Alex commented on how -- in his own words -- The United States and her allies never intentionally cause civilian casualties when conducting military operations.

Valla knew from her extensive education on Earth history that that had not always been true of what many called the West; the USA, England, France, and other such States had in fact caused extensive death and mayhem amongst civilian populations over their histories. But when compared to other less civilized States, Alex was in fact true.

The Troyna had their own history of killing civilians during operations, too. Sometimes, it became necessary in their efforts to save planets facing runaway populations. Valla was not going to tell Alex this, of course. It was a past -- both ancient and recent -- of which Valla was regretful, even ashamed.

She enjoyed the conversation about sports and games more. She didn't say anything about it now -- time was limited -- but she was very interested in watching Human sports and even playing their games in the near future, perhaps with Alex Stewart himself.

Alex clarified the issue about his name for Valla, for which she thanked him with a smile. When he asked about her own full name, she laughed softly. Through the translator, Valla explained, "My full name includes no surname ... but it does include what I believe you would call a middle name. That middle name, though, is a compilation of the names of the female Queens -- my ancestors -- who ruled the Empire before me."

Pran's face donned a concerned expression at the word Empire, a word that often was not seen in a good light. To steer the conversation away from such a topic, Pran jumped in, saying with humor, "It would take longer than you have left to recite that list, Major."

Ryna approached Valla and -- after being gestured to engage -- got very close and whispered to the Queen before then returning to where she had been off to the side. Valla spoke to Pran for a moment without the aid if the translator, then looked to Alex.

"It would seem that your world's Press -- in addition to speaking about attacks on military assets across the globe -- is spreading propaganda claiming that the alien invaders are abducting Human Beings," Pran explained to Alex, adding, "Including an American pilot who, through great skill, managed to shoot down an alien spacecraft."

Valla smiled, adding, "The only such Human to do so,"

 

[desperado1089]

"While I appreciate the compliment, it may be prudent to note that the aforementioned adversaries of the US and her allies frequently utilize their total control of media and the internet to spread false or sanitized narratives. Up until nearly two of our years ago, our own government came dangerously close to following in the footsteps of some of history's worst regimes. A small but vocal majority of American privately-owned press outlets were little more than propaganda machines for our former president. So I would like to know if the whole world thinks you abducted me, or if there is a difference of opinion between nations and, indeed, media sources." Alex took on a serious demeanor, realizing that if this spun out of control, it could turn into a shooting war. "And it's rather convenient that these attacks have resulted in no loss of life for the men and women who man the missile silos and crew the submarines and bombers, yet I bet my pension these news stories don't mention that, do they?"

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Alex spoke more about propaganda and how governments used it. Valla understood him, of course; the Troyna used their own version of propaganda in most of their campaigns.

When he spoke about a former American President, Valla understood that, too. In transit toward Earth, the Troyna had been monitoring thousands of streams of intelligence from each and every country. The news from the United States of America had been, to be kind, intriguing when it came to the leadership of the country.

There had been hundreds of Troyna Investigators who'd been assigned to study a specific State or Nation of people; what with the USA being one of the most significant of States, it had been assigned four Investigators. They'd kept Valla updated on a daily basis regarding how the country was functioning, and over the last decade or more, she'd become concerned that their arrival might be too late to prevent a tragedy.

"...I would like to know if the whole world thinks you abducted me," Alex said, "or if there is a difference of opinion between nations and, indeed, media sources."

Valla looked to Pran, softly ordering, "Look into that, please."

"Yes, My Queen," he responded with a slight bow of his head.

"And it's rather convenient that these attacks have resulted in no loss of life for the men and women who man the missile silos and crew the submarines and bombers," Alex w"ent on, "yet I bet my pension these news stories don't mention that, do they?"

Valla considered his suggestion a moment. Then, she smiled and said, "I am due to address the people of Earth regarding the Troyna attack on the atomic arsenals of their world. I doubt that many people outside the military and political hierarchy of those two States know about the missile attack on my ship, let alone the failure of the effort."

For the first time, Valla moved, stepping to close the distance between her and Alex to just barely more than arms reach. She studied him a moment, taking in his eyes, his mouth, his body; from what she knew of Human Beings and what they liked in friends and mates, Major Alex Stewart would be considered a handsome, desirable male.

"I wonder..." she mused. "Would you be interested in appearing alongside me, Alex? I would like the people of Earth to see that you are neither harmed nor in danger. I will explain the attack on the atomic weapons, as well as the ... retaliation for the ICBM attack, which will begin shortly."

She paused a moment for his response to the retaliation comment, then continued, "If you would like, you can speak to the people of Earth. You are free to say anything you wish. I will not provide you with a text from which to read, like some hostage or prisoner touting their captor's benevolence."

 

[desperado1089]

"I would like nothing more than to speak to the people of Earth alongside you. And I am curious as to how you intend to retaliate. As I had said, those nations are led by despotic people who grind ordinary citizens into dust. I look forward to their comeuppance." Alex didn't know what Valla was thinking, but if he did, he would find himself in complete agreement regarding the previous administration as well as relief that the worst didn't come to pass. "I will caution you, however, that some may not believe that I am not a hostage or reading from a script. They have no idea if you are capable of creating some sort of holographic facsimile of me, made to say what needs to be said. They have no idea if you have mind control technology or ways of taking over my body completely. All that said, I know you mean us no harm. And those who I mentioned, can go stick their red hats...somewhere I shall not elaborate upon in such illustrious company," Alex finished with a smirk and a wink.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

"I would like nothing more than to speak to the people of Earth alongside you," Alex replied to Valla's invitation.

She didn't hesitate to put things in motion. Valla first gestured to her Aide, Ryla, who came to her side and manipulated some clips on her clothing. The long, elegant train lying behind her dropped to the floor. She thanked Ryla, looked to Alex, and asked, "Will you walk with me, please, Major Stewart?"

Together, with the two Guards leading the way, Valla and Alex, followed by Pran and Ryla, headed at a comfortable pace out of her quarters and down the central passageway. As they proceeded, Alex said, "And I am curious as to how you intend to retaliate."

He reminded Valla about the difference between despotic people and ordinary citizens. "I assure you, Major. I will do my utmost to prevent harm and death amongst the innocents."

As they boarded an elevator, Alex spoke of how the people of Earth might not believe that he wasn't a hostage, speaking Valla's words. "They will understand this when you return to the planet, to your command, and to your family."

The elevator began rising, giving Alex a view of a massive open area below them. It was similar to food plazas in any number of shopping malls across Earth; dozens of little shops and stands served food and drinks, sold goods for all needs and wants, or provided services of all types. Word had gotten around that a Human Being was aboard and meeting their Queen; the news had brought out dozens, even hundreds of Troyna who yearned for an opportunity to see the alien.

"You are popular, Major Stewart," the Queen said, looking down on the crowd that was looking up at them. She stepped forward enough that all those below caught sight of her. Across the plaza, males bowed forward, and females curtsied. They rose again, and while some maintained their attention on their ruler, most were eyeballing the strange being standing next to her.

 

[desperado1089]

Alex smiled at the Queen's repeated assurances. "I know you will, Queen Valla. I do not doubt you are already aware of the things I spoke of. I suppose I was giving voice to those that the governments of Russia and China do their utmost to render voiceless each and every day." He had no doubt his command, as she put it, would not be fully satisfied he was himself until he was fully poked, prodded, tested and examined, perhaps even probed. A part of him wanted to stay here forever, but his family indeed would love to see him. An aging father, a sister, a cousin who was like a brother, all would miss him.

When they ascended the elevator, he waved awkwardly at those who were watching them. "I don't mind the attention," he said. Something else struck him, and he looked guilty again as he said, "I hope the families of Dyah's crew don't hate me for what I did. I'd like to meet them at some point, tell them I'm sorry."

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Alex admitted that he didn't mind the attention, but then said, "I hope the families of Dyah's crew don't hate me for what I did."

"Hate is not an emotion often felt by the Troyna," Valla said, adding, "And if felt, even more seldom displayed. We are not an emotionless people. On the contrary. But hate is not often a helpful feeling."

Alex suggested, "I'd like to meet them at some point, tell them I'm sorry."

"It has already been arranged," Pran said. He looked to Alex for his reaction, hoping that the surprise wasn't unwelcomed. To clarify the situation, he added, "Just as you may feel regret for the deaths for which you feel responsible, the families also feel regret. Regret for their loved ones having put you in that situation. You were doing your duty, Major Stewart. The families know this. They do not hold you responsible."

The elevator reached its destination, the doors behind the occupants opening slowly to reveal a wide hall with just one other set of doors coming off of it, clear at the end more than 100 feet away. The honor guard led the way, with the others following as before. Reaching the end of the hall, the doors slid aside to reveal the Command Center. It was just as active now as it had been during the attack on Earth's atomic weapons earlier in the day.

The guards stepped aside, posting at the doors, which now slid slowly closed again. Valla continued onward, down a handful of steps toward the throne from which she could watch what was about to take place; Ryla followed and took a standing position to her right. Pran looked to Alex, gesturing him to follow him, and led him to a row of seats in front of and a few feet lower than the throne. "We'll sit here, Major Stewart."

A second Admiral was currently in charge of the operation about to take place. The continent of Asia filled most of the large Main Viewer in the middle of the wall of displays; the Pacific Ocean, Mediterranean Sea, the Middle East, and a portion of Africa were visible on the periphery. As if they were getting their imagery from Google Maps, State borders were indicated, accompanied by the names of States in English.

"The names are for you Major," Pran said. He pointed to a nearby Monitoring Station that featured the same map, but the names on the screen were in the Troyna language. Pran spoke to the Admiral, who then turned and talked to the Operator at the nearby Station. The Operator manipulated some controls, causing dozens of points of white light to appear on the Main Viewer. Pran explained, "These are the Attack Vessels dispatched to conduct the retaliation spoken of by My Queen."

The Mothership was currently over the Indian Ocean, and all of the dots -- Attack Vessels -- were moving north, east, and combinations thereof ... toward Russia and China. The AVs were moving fast, traveling over Mach 6 or nearly 5,000 mph. As the AVs entered Russian and Chinese air space, dozens, then hundreds of little red dots began filling the Main Viewer.

"Ground to Surface missiles," Pran explained. "They are trying their best to shoot down our AVs ... Attack Vessels."

The white lights began changing course here and there on the map, but it wasn't to avoid missiles; it was because they'd attacked their first targets and were redirecting to their next destinations. Behind them, Valla spoke in her own, untranslated language to the Admiral, who once again spoke to the Troyna at the nearby Monitoring station.

"Queen Valla wants you to see the results of one of our attacks," Pran explained, his words translated.

The Main Viewer filled with a view provided by an Attack Vessel speeding over the lightly forested lands of Central Siberia. As it dropped in altitude, the pilot was conversing with his Monitoring Station Operator; both sides of the conversation were audible in English to Alex. Valla looked down to the Human and imagined that the conversation likely sounded very much like those Alex had had with his own commanders when he was on an air mission.

The pilot began counting out measurements: "5,000 ... 4,000 ... 3,000 ... powering weapon ... targeting ... target locked..."

On the Main Viewer, as the AV shot quickly over the countryside, a military base filled the view beyond the targeting crosshairs. The pilot announced, "...firing weapon!"

The war bird shot over the top of the base and began immediately regaining altitude; nothing seemed to have happened, but perhaps the missile or bomb had hit after the AV passed...?

Again, Valla spoke to the Admiral, who spoke to the Monitoring Operator, who spoke to the Troyna pilot. The AV did a tight turn with massive G-forces that would have killed a Human pilot in even the most advanced Earth fighter jet. He continued speaking with his Operator, though, as if he'd felt no effect.

As the AV approached the base, it slowed dramatically and settled into a counterclockwise encirclement at a mere 200 mph. A camera view on the left side showed a base that appeared entirely intact and untouched. But as the AV continued circling, personnel on the base began acting strangely around equipment: trucks, tanks, helicopters, airplanes, radar dishes, missile batteries, and more. The soldiers, airmen, mechanics, and more inspected their equipment, none of which were moving and some of which appeared to be in awkward positions relative to how one would expect to see them.

"We call it the Welder," Pran explained. "It has a longer official name, but, honestly, I'm not even certain what it is anymore."

He spoke to the Admiral, who yet again passed the order down the chain. The camera view on the AV zoomed in until just one tank was in view. Its crew stood around the weapon staring; one man was beating a tread with a sledge hammer with no effect and no movement whatsoever.

"The weapon causes all metals, ferrous and non-ferrous alike, to begin a temporary dissolving-like effect," Pran explained, "followed by a welding-like effect. Essentially, it turns tanks, trucks, aircraft, and more into big blobs of useless metal. All those machines of war ... destroyed ... and with little or no loss of life since we attempt not to use it on moving vehicles or aircraft while they are in the air."

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

(OOC: Just a note for anyone who might be reading along with our story. The Mothership arrived "on the night of 25 August 2030" -- the time wasn't any more specific than that. Don't let this vagueness bother you much.)

St. Sebastian's Psychiatric Center
Upstate New York:

Almost midnight, 25 August 2030
(the night the Mothership arrived):

Doctor Elizabeth Wilson hurried through the darkness for the entrance of Building 4, grumbling at having to fill in for the On Call Doctor, who'd abandoned his post earlier in the day to be with his family when, in his own words, the invasion of Earth by the alien horde had begun.

Once through the doors, she was mobbed by other doctors and their nurses regarding both long term residents and brand-new nuts who been set off by the arrival of the alien ship. She triaged the needs of the patients, and in just over six hours, the hospital was back to a somewhat normal state of being.

"What about the Queen?" an Intern asked just after 6am.

Liz was told of Jane Doe 32, aka Jane or The Queen, a long-term patient with whom Liz had never had any personal interaction; Jane had been under the care of the now missing On Call Doctor, ironically. She read over the woman's medical history, finding each page more intriguing than the last. Liz said, "Take me to her."

It was almost 7am, and while Liz had expected to find the patient still soundly asleep, Jane was instead up and pacing slowly from one end of her little space to the other. Liz watched her via the monitor connected to a camera in the other side of the door, then -- pressing the intercom button -- began, "Jane ... I'm Doctor Wilson. We haven't met yet, but I'd like to speak to you ... if it isn't too early for you."

Jane stared at the door a moment, then -- knowing of the camera -- bowed her head a bit and made a welcoming gesture with a sweeping hand. Liz entered, invited Jane to a more comfortable room -- with couches, armchairs, and a table on which were pastries and milk -- and asked, "Jane ... are you aware of what's happening out there in the world right now?"

Liz had expected Jane to ask for the Doctor to clarify her question, but instead Jane said without hesitation, "My people have arrived to free me from my imprisonment and return me to my proper place ... the throne of the Troyna Empire."

Liz studied her patient for a moment, then looked to Paula; the Intern knew what question was coming and quickly said, "We know the rules, Doc. No one has said anything to her about ... you know ... them out there. She came up with this totally on her own earlier today. Started demanding that we release her ... to let her return to her people, these Trojans--"

"Troyna's," Jane corrected.

Liz spent almost an hour speaking with Jane before having the Orderly take her back to her room. She finished her notes, dealt with the last bits of upheaval in the hospital, and finally headed home.



Days later:

The alien craft simply idling in space above Earth had the world on edge, and if anyone knew anything about being on edge, it was a psychiatrist. Liz Wilson had made visits every other day to Jane Doe 32 -- the Queen -- and she'd finally decided that she needed to talk to someone outside the psychiatric arena about her.

She called a friend -- an on again, off again lover -- who was a NYPD detective; he had had some dealings with Federal Agencies in the past, and Liz thought that perhaps she needed to pass this on to people who could decide whether it was ... what was the word ... actionable.



Days after that:

Liz and Robert met for drinks and conversation about Jane Doe 32, after which they went back to Liz's house for more drinks and a night full of orgasms. The next morning, he told Liz that he was intrigued by the Queen's story, and although he didn't think there was anything to it, he would pass it along to an acquaintance of his who was attached to Homeland Security in one way or the other.



And yet more days after that:

Liz was exiting her house to head for St. Sebastian's when an MIB-type man flashed a badge and laminated ID at her, asking, "Can you come with me, Doctor Wilson?"

Soon, Liz was sitting in an office that featured a single table and two chairs, but which was otherwise empty and unoccupied. Another man -- this one less MIB but still intimidating in a sense, smiled to her and said, "Tell me all about Jane Doe 32 ... the Queen."

Liz studied the man a moment, then said, "I think it would be better if you just sat with her and talked. I think you should get this firsthand."



Days later ... just hours after Valla had revealed herself:

"Jane, I'd like to introduce you to Robert," Liz said to Jane as the three of them sat down together with more donuts, milk, and -- for the non-patients -- hot coffee. "Robert here is interested in--"

"My name is Anya Roysa Erroline Remiline Muur ... Queen of the Troyna People," ," Jane cut in. She paused for effect, then continued, "I arrived on Planet Earth in your year Nineteen hundred and twenty-nine, to study and investigate your planet and its dominant intelligent species ... Humans ... in preparation for the possibility that one day the Troyna people would need to intervene in Earthly affairs ... to correct the errors and shortcomings of the Humans who threatened the future of this wondrous world by bringing advanced technologies and forward-looking policies that would save both this planet and the Human Race."